#i stand by tommy caring for lizzie but he has always treated her like a property

[borgialucrezia]

the girl before france aka lizzie stark lookalike

[tommyspeakycap]

HF for how Tommy feels on his daughters wedding day please

first half is headcanons and the second half is a lil blurb!

tommy is quite literally distraught

like that’s no exaggeration he is literally heart broken

his baby, his whole world was getting married

for the past 20 years, you had been tommy shelby’s whole world

you were born when tommy was only 17

not even an adult yet himself

so it felt as though you had been with him most of his life

it had kind of just been you and him, in a sense

of course there was the rest of the clan too, and you were incredibly close to them as well

but your mother died in childbirth, so tommy was both mum and dad

he had to do it all alone in that sense

everyone tells him he should be so proud of how he raised you

because you’re sweet and kind

and you have that humour that the war took from tommy

you made people laugh like he had

and you were really the only person that could make him laugh

you were strong, like your mother tommy had always said

but you credit everything you are to him

he was the first man to love you, and teach you how you should be loved

he also taught you how you should be treated, generally a lot better than the average father would

tommy made sure that his daughter would be treated like a queen

you were his princess

so whomever you were to marry, you would be treated as their queen

he made absolutely sure of that

and that marrying was your choice

not something you were coerced into for money or business, but something you wanted

and it was

with a man who you had loved since 16

tommy liked him as much as he could like the man that was going to be taking his baby girls hand and changing her name

the thought of you not being (y/n) shelby, tommy shelby’s little princess, was earth shattering to him

although you had insisted you were keeping it in the middle

alas, tommy knew you were so loved by that man

be that as it may, all parties knew if he stepped a foot out of line or raised a finger in anything but gentility and love

then he would be struck down in a timely and violent fashion by tommy himself

tommy definitely cries that day too

“Tommy?” Grace’s voice immediately draws his attention towards her and away from his thoughts about the impending fact his little girl was getting married in half an hour. His eyes are that kind of wet that shows he’s fighting tears, that he won’t dare let them fall. Grace can see the lump he tries to swallow in his throat and a piece of her heart breaks for him as she sits down on the bench next to him outside the hall where the ceremony would take place. You were inside getting the dress on and getting your hair done with Polly and Ada and previously Grace before she had come out to see if her husband was okay.

He was not.

“Oh Tommy,” Her voice is so soft and caring as she wraps her arm around him and rubs his shoulder, hugging him to her slightly. “She looks so beautiful Tom, and god she’s so happy; can’t stop smiling at all. She still has that smile you talk about, the innocent one and it looks just like yours does sometimes.” Tommy clenches his jaw tightly, still refusing to let those tears go. She sees him clamp down his teeth over his bottom lip to stop it trembling. “It’s alright Tommy, this is good. She’s in love with a man who loves her so much. Almost as much as you do.”

Tommy shakes his head at that, one hand on his knee to brace himself as he tries to speak. “Not possible.” He snips, “And i loved her first.”

His voice breaks on that. The lip finally trembles and he hangs his head with a sharp inhale to let free that shoulder shaking sob. “She was my little baby. How is that my little girl in there? She used to-” Tommy had to pause again, roughly wiping his hand over his face to clear away the tears as he looks up at Grace, “She used to be this big,” he gestures with his hands in a way that she imagined was meant to be him cradling a baby. His voice sounds drastically different than she’s used to because it’s clouded by his tears and his agony.

“She used to ask me to brush her teeth and comb her hair and lift her up to wash her hands,” he bleats, images flashing through his mind of that short little girl who couldn’t reach the bathroom sink. He sees the little girl who stood on top of the toilet so he could brush those teeth and he can see the smile that little girl gave him all those nights when he asked to see to make sure he had brushed them right. “She used to climb into my bed every morning and she used to save up her tooth fairy money to buy us all gifts. She’d save food from her dinner for the dogs on the street and i swear on my life i don’t know how to live without her being my baby girl, Grace.” Tears continue to stream down his cheeks as Grace notices the black and white photograph that looked truly as though it had been through the war; as it had. it was stained and slightly run and it was crumpled. A little girl with a toothless grin and Tommy Shelby’s eyes, even with the lack of colour to the old photograph.

“It’s alright Tommy,” Grace hums, rubbing her husbands back soothingly, “She’s your little girl, she always will be.” She knew there was really nothing else she could say that would ease his pain. There was nothing anyone could do or say that would send you back to the little girl he would could throw over his shoulder and run around the house with. There was nothing that could ease the pain of a fathers aching heart when his baby girl becomes a woman who doesn’t need him like she used to.

“Thomas?”

He and Grace look up at Polly. The look in her eyes speaks for her . “She’s ready?” Tommy asks, prompting his aunt to nod her head with a smile. “Come on then, Tom!” Arthur calls from the grand doorway at the top of the steps to the hall. When Tommy and Grace reach him, Arthur wraps his arm roughly around his brothers shoulder and pulls Tommy into him. “Baby (y/n) getting fuckin’ married eh? Can’t fuckin’ believes she’s this fuckin grown up.” He shakes his head, taking his arm away from his brother when they reach the door of the dressing room where you were waiting. “Beautiful she is, Tom.” Arthur says, “Looks just like mum. In you go.” He ushers his younger brother in that door.

Nobody sees Tommy Shelby quite like you do, and he’s happy for it to stay that way. He’s known it since you were a tiny little girl wrapped up in his arms. He doesn't love anyone like he loves you, so it makes full sense that you are the only person in the world who he allows his vulnerability to fully leak through with. Although, he probably couldn't prevent it even if he tried.

Maybe that’s why he doesn't fight so hard to keep his eyes from welling up when he sees you standing there looking in the mirror, donned in the most beautiful white wedding gown that he’s ever seen. Placed in his hand is the stunning light veil that he had picked out for you. The headband was something like a tiara, because you were his princess and he truly believed that everything you had should be the best the world could offer. The dress too had been extortionate and you would never have gotten it had you known the price it had come to, but Tommy had never allowed you to know. He simply had the designers bring an array of dresses to his estate where you tried them all on with Polly, Ada, Lizzie, Grace, Linda and Esme to comment and complement each dress, as well ad aide you on picking the one that suited you the most with cost never a mention. Tommy had preached he ‘no expense spared’ approach the whole way through the planning of the wedding and any timenhe caught you trying to cut or manage costs, he simply shut you down and enforced the rule that the wedding planner was no longer allowed to discuss prices with you. 

He had truly created the most fantastical day for you, and he would have spent every single penny that he had if it meant giving you the most beautiful start to a new life that he could give. 

You had wanted him to be the one to place that veil on your head with the guidance of your hair dresser to ensure he didn't mess up the design of your hair. He had been the one to place little plastic tiaras on your head when you were merely a little girl who wanted to play princess dress up. He used to be the one to comb back your hair and twirl you around that Watery Lane kitchen with Arthur did the same with Ada and Polly laughed heartily from her seat at the table. 

It felt right to have him put a tiara on you one last time as baby Shelby. 

“You’re beautiful.” He breathes, his lips stretching into a wide and incredibly proud smile. “So, so very beautiful my darling.” Your cheeks blush ever so slightly and you lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, dad.” 

He wants to hug you tightly and never let you go. He wants to will and wish you back to the little girl that he used to twirl around all afternoon. He missed that little girl so much. He had so much love in his heart for you, so much that it overwhelmed him every time he had tried to acknowledge it over the course of your life. 

“I love you.” he says, his shaky voice conveying how much he actually means those words. “So much more than you can ever know. I’m going to miss you so much.” 

You breathe a short laugh, shaking your head at him. “I’m not going anywhere, dad. I’ll still be seeing you all the time. I’ll just have a different name.” You hold his hand tightly in yours as he leads you out of the dressing room and into the hall towards the large double doors that would take you to the isle. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “I suppose. You’ll understand what I mean someday. I just love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

“You two ready to go?” The wedding planner asks, watching as you turn to Tommy somewhat excitedly and nod. “You ready dad?” You ask, giving his had a reassuring squeeze. He sighs heavily, but nods his head too, removing his hand from yours and moving his arm so that you can link yours through his. His play on his mind before he says them, a small smile too playing on his lips as the nickname that he used to call you runs through his memory.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, my little love.” 

[blinder-secrets]

Between Palms

fem!reader x michael gray

warnings: power imbalance, role play, mild nsfw (its a slow burn but hang in there trust me)

wordcount: 4,125

It seemed silly really, a birthday meal at Arrow House, but here you were. Invite accepted and fulfilled, even though you were just there as a plus one. An almost family member. Michael had you living in his house, accompanying him to every event, and yet your finger was still empty of the ring you both knew would come eventually. He’s waiting for the right moment, you suppose. It doesn’t really matter. Everyone knows he’s yours, and you’re his. Even Polly is starting to treat you like a daughter.

‘Is it his actual birthday today?’ you ask Michael, as he takes your coat in the entry way.

‘Don’t know.’ He passes it to Mary, who you’ve only just been introduced to. 'Tomorrow I think.’

You hum. This was the family version then, they’d spend his birthday alone, just the two of them. ‘It’s quite sweet, isn’t it?’ you muse. You’d never have marked either Tommy or Lizzie as the sentimental sort.

Michael snorts. ‘Sweet, yeah.’ From his smirk, you know he doesn’t even remotely agree.

‘The meal is being served,’ Mary tells you, careful in her interruption. ‘If you’ll follow me?’

‘Oh, course, sorry.’ You nod and gesture for her to continue; you’d almost forgotten that the both of you were late. ‘Come on,’ you say to Michael, offering your hand.

He takes it readily, his palm warm and soft against yours. From the look of him, his sharp suits, his set hair and his square jaw, you’d always assumed he would shy away from touches like that. That he’d keep his hands in his pockets and his character professional, impenetrable. But, he never does with you. Whenever you give your hand, he takes it, locks his fingers around it. He’d let you pull him half way across the world, you think. If you tried.

In the main dining room, you’re met by the rest of the family. They’re seated already, talking and drinking around the platters of food, the plates already filled with some expensive cut of meat. The conversation stills as you enter, a few of them beginning to stand to greet you.

‘No, no don’t,’ you say quickly, waving them down again. ‘We’ve got time for that later.’

‘Tommy,’ Michael says, acknowledging him with a nod. ‘Happy Birthday.’

‘Yes,’ you add, ‘we left your gift with Mary.’ You’re sure he doesn’t care what it is, you don’t even know that he’ll ever open it. It’d had felt wrong to go to a birthday party without taking something.

Tommy almost matches your waiting smile. It’s as much of a response as you’ll get. ‘Please,’ he says, gesturing to the two empty chairs, ‘sit down. Get a drink.’

You take your seat which is, of course, next to Michael. Your Michael. He’s holding the chair out for you, ready to tuck it in as you sit. Always the gentleman like it’s second nature. Like he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it. You smile up at him in thanks, but he just touches your shoulder briefly before sitting himself. ‘Looks great,’ he comments, eyes down as he scans the lay of food and alcohol before him. His accent’s stronger when he’s with them, like he picks it up at the door. At home it almost disappears, melts into something softer, some remnant of his upbringing. You haven’t decided yet which it is that you prefer. It’s what he says that charms you.

‘It’s nice of you to have us, Tommy,’ you say, leaning around Michael to smile at him.

He’s sitting at the head of the table, as uninterested in the food as you’d expected him to be. His eyebrows raise in response to your comment, and he half-shakes his head, as if to say, oh it’s no problem, no trouble. From the way Lizzie’s smiling beside him, you know that it was all her really. Her idea, her planning. She wanted him and the family to have something nice for once and so here you were.

‘And Lizzie, of course,’ you add. ‘Thank-you.’

‘Our pleasure,’ she replies gently, lifting her glass. ‘Please, eat. Before it gets cold.’

You nod and bring your focus back to Michael, who’s lit a cigarette and is now resting between drags. It sits between his fingers on the table, smoke pulling up and over his plate, swirling his meal in grey. How he doesn’t mind, you have no idea. He may as well peel it open and eat the tobacco instead.

‘Michael,’ you scold quietly, knocking your elbow against his. ‘Put it out.’

He clears his throat and sits straighter, lifting the cigarette for a final taste. ‘Was in my head,’ he comments on the exhale, before taking another sharp, final drag. ‘Think we should do something like this.’

You watch him lean forward and stub the cigarette out, into the ashtray in the middle. ‘Do what?’

‘Have a dinner,’ he says, sitting back again. ‘For you, for your birthday.’

Snorting, you shake your head and turn to pick up your cutlery. The house you have together is nowhere near big enough to accommodate for the Shelby side, let alone your family too. Not that you would invite them anyway. They’d see Arthur and go running, hear Johnny Dogg’s jokes and flush red with shame.

‘Yeah? And who would arrange that?’ you ask. You take a bite and throw him a closed-lip smile between chews. ‘I’m not doing it.’

He shrugs. ‘Well, I will.’  

The beef is cooked perfectly, you cut another piece off as you reply. ‘You’re good with numbers, Michael, not parties.’

‘Alright.’ He picks up his fork limply, too focused on the side of your face to even consider eating something himself. ‘Mum will,’ he says to you, then, turning to her, ‘you’ll help, won’t you?’

Polly scoffs from opposite. You hadn’t realised she’d been paying attention, but of course she had. She never misses anything of interest. ‘Not bloody likely,’ she chides. ‘You’ll have to do something for yourself one day, Michael.’ She’s smiling, teasing with her lips soft and curling, but it still sours him.

‘Fine,’ he says, slouching. ‘No party, then. Christ.’

You almost roll your eyes, but it isn’t often that he suggests something like this. Something flashy. Normally, any gesture of affection he has for you is quiet, private. Tucked away just for the two of you. A big party like the one Lizzie’s thrown for Tommy is entirely new; you hadn’t meant to shoot him down so quickly. Sighing, you soften your voice and say, ‘We can have a party, baby.’ He hums. You put your hand to his face, thumb angled for his chin, but he tilts his head away in the last second.

Before you can complain, Polly catches your attention again. ‘Here, love,’ she says, ‘have some more potatoes.’ She holds the dish up for you, over the centre of the table and the glasses between.

‘Sure, thanks.’

You take the offering and when you pull the dish toward you, the bottom catches on your wine glass. It tips quickly, spilling red over the table, over you. You half expect it to shatter against the edge of your plate.

Cursing loudly, you abandon the dish into Michael’s waiting hands. ‘Sorry, fuck, sorry.’ You stand quickly and the commotion hushes every conversation that had been rolling within the room.

‘You’re meant to drink it, love,’ Arthur laughs, from whichever end he’s sat at — you’re too busy patting your napkin frantically onto the tablecloth to check.

‘God, sorry, sorry Lizzie.’ It’s stained, it’s definitely stained and ruined.

‘It’s on your dress,’ Michael comments, like you hadn’t noticed.

‘Never mind the dress,’ you snap back. ‘The sheet’s ruined.’

Tommy clears his throat. ‘Its just the tablecloth, [y/n], sit down.’

‘It’ll do more damage to your dress, love,’ Lizzie adds, sympathetically. ‘It’s alright.’

You pause, huffing slightly, then sit clumsily back into your chair. It’s always you, it seems, to stand out like this. To be un-calculated, accidental. Every Shelby is so precise, and so careful, and so in control of everything at once, somehow. Michael’s a Gray but he’s got it too, the grace. Lizzie isn’t even blood related and she holds herself the same. What is it about you? What do you lack?

‘Don’t worry,’ Michael says quietly, interrupting the thought by pouring words into your ear. ‘Don’t get yourself worked up.’

You don’t answer him, you just pout and dab at the stain on your lap. The wine’s sunk in deep already. It looks purple, not red, against the fabric.

‘Mary could help,’ he offers, after sighing at your silence. ‘She’ll be in the kitchen.’

You nod and stand, clutching the soggy napkin in your palm. ‘If you’ll excuse me,’ you say to the table. Your voice only catches the attention of Polly and Finn, but no-one else challenges you when you turn to leave. It’s just another of your quirks, they must think, just something you do. They either don’t care, or didn’t see.

You hurry from the room with your ears turning hot. Michael will tell you later that you were being silly, worrying over nothing, but right now it feels mortifying. Leaving the room to see a maid about a stain. In the middle of a dinner party, no less.

When you reach the kitchen, Mary startles. Her eyes widen at the sight of you, like your presence alone means she’s done something wrong, like she’s forgotten something and you’re here to chase her up on it.

‘Don’t worry,’ you tell her, gesturing to your dress. ‘I just wanted to see if you had something for this.’

Her expression softens. The gentle folds in her face fall slack and for a moment she reminds you of your grandmother, though she never had the gall to be a gangster’s housekeeper. ‘Is it wine, miss?’

You sigh. ‘Tragically, yes.’

‘There isn’t much we can do for that.’ She hums. ‘But I’ll try, please sit.’

She gestures to the table, and the chairs which are wooden, and bare, and much plainer than the dining set upstairs. It’s welcoming in a way elegance will never be. You sigh into the seat and watch her pull bottles from various cupboards, busying herself quickly. Her dress folds as she does, creasing at her waist, comfortable enough to not restrict her movements. If only yours was like that. The dress you’re wearing is too expensive, and too tight, to be any good for anyone. Now, it isn’t even pretty.

‘Mary,’ you start, stilling her as soon as the idea strikes, lighting itself as a match would. ‘Do you have any spare uniforms?’

Her brow arches slowly, like she’s unsure of your intention and even more unsure of asking for it. ‘Miss?’

‘That I can wear,’ you explain. The thought is rolling, piling up and catching speed in your head. It makes sense really, a worker’s fit for the working woman, an apron for the spills. If the Shelbys can’t find the humour in it, you certainly will.

‘Only the ones the maids wear,’ she says.

You smile. If Michael could see you now, he’d accuse you of plotting something. He’d be right. ‘Perfect,’ you tell her, ‘that’s perfect, Mary.’

If your exit was quiet, unnoticed, then your return may as well have been an explosion. A great tremor to the room and all its inhabitants. You’re barely through the doorway before Arthur’s laugh is bursting from his chest, barking over Johnny’s head toward you. From the noise of it, the rest turn in your direction. Conversation is tossed out the window and onto the lawn. Lizzie laughs, more out of shock than anything else, Polly mutters a ‘Christ’, and you’re sure you catch Finn swallowing his beer like it’s running out. How Tommy reacts, you don’t know, you don’t look.

‘Fucking hell, woman, almost lost me drink over that,’ Johnny says, speaking before anyone else has chance to.  

You reach the table and give a half-confident bow, with your gaze sitting easily on Michael. ‘Would you like a refill, mister?’ you ask falsely, twisting your voice high enough that it hardly sounds like you at all.

His eyebrows lift, eyes widening, and then they drop again, quickly, like nothing’s happened. His face hardens slightly. Then, he turns away, facing forward, and he goes very still, and very quiet, and you don’t quite know what he’s thinking. You thought he’d laugh, or at least make some snarky comment about not mingling with the help. Instead, his eyes sit on the whiskey in his hands like you aren’t even there.  

‘What the hell you got that on for?’ Arthur asks, amusement in the crinkles by his eye. ‘Eh?’

You force a smile at him. ‘Thought I’d give you something to dream about, Arthur.’

There’s few snorts in response and then Tommy puts them to rest. ‘Alright, alright, sit down,’ he says, lighter than you’d expected, ‘unless you’d like to help serve pudding.’

‘If it gets me on the payslip, I’ll consider it,’ you reply, pulling your chair out to sit.

Michael doesn’t acknowledge you still. The plates are cleared, your wine glass is upright again, refilled, and then dessert is brought out. Everything in order as Lizzie’s itinerary no doubt demanded. By the time everyone’s eating again, your outfit is entirely forgotten about. There’s no comment on the plain black dress, no jokes on the white apron that pulls it tight to your waist, no awareness of it at all. You almost regret not wearing the matching hair-band, maybe if you did Michael would have had something more interesting to say.

When the other guests are suitably distracted, he finally leans into you, whispering harshly by your ear. ‘What’re you wearing?’ he asks. You don’t have to see his face to know he’s frowning.

Your eyebrows pinch, gaze on the spoonful of tart that you’re chasing around the plate. It’s very obvious that you’re wearing what the maids wear. It’s a joke, Michael, ever heard of that? ‘My dress is ruined,’ you answer. ‘I’ve left it with Mary to work on the stain.’

‘And you couldn’t find anything else to wear?’

‘No,’ you say firmly. ‘I couldn’t.’

His jaw flexes. He downs the last of his whiskey like it’s laudanum and you’re the ache. He wants to say something, you can see it, but he holds himself back. He shakes his head like he’s knocking it down, forcing it into his throat with the liquor.

After that, the pair of you eat in silence, and when Tommy invites the party to move into one of the more comfortable rooms, you stand in silence too. You let the rest of them go ahead of you. When Polly passes on her way out, she says, ‘That’s something I’d have done when I was your age,’ and even though she’s being friendly, you wish she hadn’t. The last thing you needed now, was to be told that you were acting like your boyfriend’s mother.

You follow the crowd out of the dining room with Michael behind you. Before you can get much further, he catches your wrist, tugging you back and sideways into one of the shorter hallways. It’s dimly lit, a hardly used corridor between rooms that you’d never been to, never even noticed. He sets you against the wall, careful despite the firmness of his grip, and then his hand lifts from your arm to sit flat on the wallpaper by your head.

‘Are you trying to embarrass me?’ he says sourly, words forced over sharp teeth.  

You frown. ‘No? Why would I?’

‘This.’ His chin dips and lifts again, gesturing to the uniform. He isn’t sneering but it’s implied.

‘I had to wear something, Michael.’ You had no idea it would offend him so much. You hadn’t even considered that it’d upset him, embarrass him. It was a stupid joke and a way out of a wine-stained dress.

He breathes heavily through his nose. He’s close, very close. The heat coming off him is warming you too, making the skin beneath your collar sticky with sweat. He lets his gaze sink down your body, then drags it up again, slowly.

‘What’s the problem?’ you ask.

He doesn’t answer. His eyes find yours and harden, the angles of his jaw setting like he’s forcing it to. Oh. Oh, you think, oh, that’s what this is. It doesn’t offend him, he isn’t insulted. He’s embarrassed because you’ve found something out about him, you’ve brought something to the surface that he hadn’t even known himself, and you’d done it in front of his family, without warning.

You smile. It stretches slowly across your cheeks as the realisation solidifies. ‘Does this turn you on, Michael?’ you tease. ‘It that what it is?’

His eyes squint slightly but he says nothing. That’s a mistake — his silence just encourages you, dares you to push it further. You’re right. Now you know you are. You see it in the sharpness behind his expression, in the weighted breaths against your skin. In the way he steels himself before you.

‘Who would have thought?’ you purr, tilting your hips forward.

You catch the material of your dress at the waist, pinching it, so that your movement pulls the hem up your legs. His chin drops. The dress is bunched enough to reveal your thighs, just high enough to show the top seam of your stockings. With his free hand, he pushes carelessly under the apron and lifts, scrunching it by your hip to give him a better view. The air puffs out of his nose like he’s breathing manually, like if he doesn’t force it he’ll stop all together.

‘Have I embarrassed you, Mr. Gray?’ you drip, honey pouring from your mouth, sinking into him like an opiate. It’s new, but it’s easy. It comes naturally. Perhaps it’s always been like this; without you realising, without you caring. A power imbalance that you both liked.

You’re looking at his lashes when his eyes dart back to you. ‘Stop it,’ he warns. The apron falls down again, his hand pulls away from the wall. ‘Don’t.’

‘Why?’ You’re enjoying it too much to pay any attention to his order. ‘Would you prefer I call you Sir?’

He swallows. You bite down on your lip as you wait for a response, half-convinced that he’s about to storm away and leave you there. Then, slowly, slowly like he’s fighting and losing, letting it flood the cracks, letting it pull him under, he leans into you. His palm cups your cheek. His head drops to put his mouth just below your chin, angled and ready by your neck.

‘Say it again,’ he coaxes, voice rough over your throat.

Your breath shakes, quiet, fragile from your mouth. ‘Say what, sir?’

He exhales sharply but it catches, and for a moment it sounds like he’s growled. Your Michael, growling, with his breath hot and heavy against you. If you took drugs, this would be yours, this would be your fix. You run your hand up his side, under the jacket and over the waistcoat.

‘Do you like it, sir?’ you ask.

‘Fuck.’ The words drags out of him, scrapes through his teeth like he hasn’t realised. ‘Bring it home,’ he says, pulling his face up to look at you. He looks serious, so serious, and so desperate that it should be ridiculous.

‘What?’

‘The dress,’ he answers tightly, ‘the outfit. Bring it home with you.’

You’ve won. Somehow, you’ve won. You’d put on a uniform you had no right to wear, and now Michael was begging for you to bring it home. Desperate to have you like this, again, just for him. And you would, of course you would, you’d be an idiot to deny him something like that. To deny something so mutually beneficial. You’d get your dress back from Mary, and thank her kindly, and then take the maid’s clothes home without saying anything else. But, that was no fun now, that didn’t see to the ache that had started to build between your legs. That didn’t feed the hunger. You had Michael alone, in a darkened corridor, needy and tightroping between disciplines, teetering on the edge of his restraint. That’s too rare, too good to lose. You won’t let it end yet.

Instead, you pout your bottom lip and say, ‘Don’t you want me now? Did I do something wrong, sir?’

He groans, eyes rolling to the ceiling.

You’re impatient so, tiring of the gap, you pull him forward so that your hips are together. He’s hard, you realise, taut against his trousers. You’ve barely touched him and already he wants you, his body craves the way yours does. ‘Kiss me,’ you say messily, quickly, forgetting all about the persona you’d adopted. ‘Kiss me, Mikey.’

‘Hm?’ he hums, putting his other hand to your face, holding you still as he settles his attention on you again. He pushes back until your spine is straightened along the wall. ‘What was that?’

The slip in character hadn’t gone unnoticed. It’d broken the tension enough to give him the upper hand, to finally let him make his play.

‘You don’t talk to me like that,’ he says. ‘Do you?’ The words pour out of him thickly, whiskey and languid control melting across your cheeks, over your lips.

‘Sorry, sir,’ you reply.

Now, it was your own breath that came stiffly, unwilling to move of its own accord. Your chest rises against his because you tell it to. The pressure from his crotch grows, firm and wanting against the dip in your hip.

His tongue runs between his lips once. He’s following your expression carefully, noting each shift, each hesitation. He can see you’re cracking, you’re sure of that. The look he has is the look of a man who’s already won. One that has want he wants, but enjoys the sport of taking it. He puts his nose to the hair by your ear and breathes in deeply, sending goosebumps along your skin. ‘Ask properly,’ he says, his voice low, rumbling.

You swallow quickly. You’re flushing hot. There’s fire in you, flames curling and rising, pulling upwards from your thighs, your stomach, swallowing your heart before it can stutter a beat. ‘Please,’ you start, ‘please kiss me, sir.’

‘Better.’

His eyelids flutter once, as he looks to your lips, and then he’s kissing you. Hard. Harder than he has for a while.

Your hands go to his wrists, hanging onto him as he holds you, as he kisses you into the wall, into the house, through the brickwork and into Elysium. You moan against him and he pushes his tongue into your mouth, wanting more. Needing more.

‘Not a sound,’ he pants as he pulls away. His grip on your face disappears and then his hands are on your thighs, roughly, desperately. His palms settle behind your knees and tug them up, lifting your legs off the ground and putting them around his waist instead. He takes your weight like it’s nothing; uses his hips and his own body against you to keep you upright, between him and the wall. ‘Not a fucking sound, right?’

You nod, frantic, already reaching for him again, already pushing your mouth to his for the taste. For the whiskey. For the heat and the need, and the tongue between your teeth, for his cock, hard and ready against the softest part of you.

He pushes the dress up abruptly, piling it and the apron over your stomach. ‘I want to hear you say it,’ he breathes, forcing it between kisses. ‘Say you’ll keep quiet.’ His touch is searing, alight with something so untapped, it’s raw. Primal.

‘I’ll be quiet, sir,’ you answer pliantly. Willingly. He could ask anything of you now and you’d give it to him, you’d bleed it into his palm like molten silver. ‘Please fuck me,’ you beg. ‘Please, sir.’

He growls again and this time it’s on purpose. His face buries into your neck, into the base of your throat. He kisses the skin hungrily, wet and biting, lustful. He takes you and you let him, you invite him to, because you always have wanted it, the imbalance. The game was fake but the power is real, the submission is honest. Cultivated. It was him over you, always, and you liked that. You wanted that more than anything and now you had it, scorching between your fingers. Burning you into the wallpaper.

You moan; his hand goes to your mouth firmly, flat palm against your lips. An order without words. Quiet, he says, stay quiet. All you have to do is oblige.

[murderousginger]

She’s A God - Part 2

Peaky blinder fic (Part 1 here)

Masterlist

Warnings: Sass. Alcohol. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.

Word count: 3,954

Finn was standing at your desk, shyly smiling down on you exactly ten minutes after your shift ended on Monday. Most of the women had packed up and left quickly, shooting odd glances at you as you continued working past the bell. You might as well do more work as you waited for the boy.

Finn's face was flushed and he looked like he had just ran there -- probably from whatever errands his brothers had him on. His clothes were slightly baggy, probably to give him room to grow in, and his hat hung off his head at an angle that gleamed the razor sewn into the cap. Your face broke into a warm smile as you stood up from your desk. 

"Hello Finn, I'm (Y/N)," you said as you extended your hand to him. 

He smiled and shook it, surprise etched on his face you even offered. 

"Hello Miss (Y/N), Tommy told me to meet you here for lessons?" Finn fidgeted as you took his shoulder and guided him into Tommy's office, grabbing a book from your desk at the last moment. Tommy had been elsewhere most of the afternoon, so there was no awkward passing after his housewarming, thankfully.

"Shelly told him a woman had snuck into his study," Lizzie whispered to you at lunch, her face a mix of amusement and annoyance. "He had bought a London whore for the occasion and thought it might have been her. Imagine his surprise to find you there. Shelly knew it was you, of course. Jealousy looks ugly on all women."

"Yes," you said, trying to keep a kind tone. The poor boy seemed nervous and out of place. "Your brother said you had trouble with reading and asked if I could help. Is that alright with you, Finn?"

Finn looked at the floor and shuffled his feet. 

"I don't have no issues with reading," he grumbled. "The letters and words rearrange and get all weird sometimes. I can read."

"I have no doubts you can, Finn," you reassured as you motioned to one of the two chairs in front of Tommy's desk. "You seem like a bright boy. Maybe you can just read some of this book to me, then? You'll be doing me a favor, really. Tommy said he would pay me to help you out. And I brought candy, so any page you read, I can give you some."

You pulled a handful of hard candies from your pocket as you sat down next to Finn. He eyed you cautiously. 

"They treat me like a baby," he said. "I'm not. You shouldn't treat me like a baby, either. I'm 16. I've cut people. I'm a Blinder."

"I have no intention of treating you like a child," you said solemnly as you looked out the door and leaned into Finn conspiratorially. "I just thought, since you have no issues with reading, we could sit here and read together, eating sweets, and tricking that brother of yours out of money. You help me with this, and I'll happily bring you cookies tomorrow."

Finn leaned in with his brows raised. 

"Cookies?"

"Any kind you like," you said as you handed him a candy before popping one in your mouth. "Now read me a page or two, please."

Finn put the candy in his mouth as he squinted at you much like his brother had at the party days before. You held your gaze to his and pushed the book closer to him.

"It's about pirates," you lilted as you nudged him with your shoulder. "They have even better adventures than your brothers do."

He ran his hand over the front before he opened it. 

"Treasure Island," he read slowly, "by Robert Louis Stevenson." 

You nodded for him to go on and he began reading slowly. You let him read at his own pace, only helping him sound words out after he could not get them figured out himself. You praised him, handing him another candy after a particularly hard word or completed page. It was slow going, and you had only finished a chapter or two in an hour, but Finn was looking more and more confident in his reading and he was quickly becoming interested in the story. 

"I think that's enough today, Finn," you said as you reached for the book and dogged the ear of the page and closed it. "Tomorrow we'll start chapter three."

"But I want to find out why Billy Bones attacked Black Dog!" He said excitedly. "That fight was legendary. And why do these people like rum so much? Everyone knows whiskey is better."

"And how would you know that?" You raised a brow as Finn blushed. 

"Everyone knows it, (Y/N)," he said. "That's why all my brothers drink it."

"Maybe it's only pirates that appreciate rum," you mused as you nudged him. "Rum is for mischief."

"Whiskey is for business, and we are businessmen."

The low rumble reverberated, making both of you jump and look at the man in the doorway. Tommy leaned against it, watching you with a small smirk on his face. 

"Just thought I'd check to see how you two fared," Tommy said. "Finn, how do you like her, eh?"

Finn slowly looked between Tommy and you, giving you a mischievous curl of his lip before he grinned and nodded at Tommy. 

"(Y/N)'s a good tutor, Tommy," he said as he stood from his seat. "I think I'm getting better already."

"Good good," Tommy nodded before he jerked his head to the side. "Off you go."

Finn looked back at you to be met with your grin and nod goodbye. He bound for the door and his brother, only to spin and take his hat off to look down at it in his hand. 

"Can you make lemon bars for tomorrow, miss (Y/N)?" 

You chuckled at the boy's attempt at propriety in front of Tommy. 

"Yes, Finn," you said smiling. "Read me chapter three and four tomorrow best you can and I'll send you home with the whole pan."

"Promise?" He said excitedly before elbowing Tommy. "We never get lemon bars at home."

You nodded and Finn spun around Tommy and ran out of the room, excited for the next chapters and his reward. Tommy stood like a statue leaning against the frame. 

"Did he mind well?" He asked, searching his pockets for a cigarette and light. He took his eyes off you to light the end, shuffling the lighter back into his pockets and blowing the smoke above his head. He quirked his head to the side as his eyes found yours again and he waited for your answer. 

"Finn was darling, Mr. Shelby," you said stiffly as you gripped your chair. "He will be an avid reader with wonderful comprehension in no time. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll leave for my own home."

He didn't move, so neither did you. 

"I've talked to my brothers, (Y/N)," he said. "Arthur couldn't pick you out of a crowd and John said you've only ever been professional with him despite his normal comments. Michael works in the office ten feet away and he says you are the only woman in the office that doesn't gossip and keeps to your work when the bosses aren't looking. I'm convinced the lot of them only heard you say 'Yes Mr. Shelby' or 'No Mr. Shelby.'"

You mirrored the tilt of his head with yours.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," you said with a raised eyebrow.

"Is there a reason you hate my family?" He said as he squinted his eyes. "Have we killed someone you love? Are you related to someone I'm not aware of? Or is it just me you actively despise?"

"Have you ever seen locusts swallow a field, Mr. Shelby?" You asked, meeting his eyes with the same intensity of a forest fire. "Without the right checks and balances, they'll decimate a field in a blink. You've swallowed Birmingham and you're already moving on to London."

"We've always made sure families were taken care of," he started. "Especially Birmingham families. And I've said to call me Tommy."

"In the aftermath, Tommy," you said as you stood up and went to grab your coat. "It's an afterthought. A reaction after your family hurts others. After your plans have consequences."

"And Finn is the only Shelby without blood on his hands, is that it?" He said as he kicked off of the doorway, taking up the exit as you stood under his gaze. 

You refused to flinch. You had been under a Shelby's nose your entire life, this wasn't new, just more literal than usual.

"Finn is a sweet boy that is willing to learn," you huffed. "I can find traits in all of you that I find admirable, but together you care for nothing but yourselves."

"Admirable traits, is it?" He said as he crossed his arms and raised his brow. "Do tell me. You've read enough books from the library I'm sure. Tell me about my family."

You faltered as your eyes went back to the ground and your tongue rushed to press against your teeth. 

"No," he stated simply as his hand tapped your chin to raise your eyes back to his. "I want to know. From a self-learned outsider, tell me about my family."

You sighed and rolled your eyes before you took a deep breath and straightened your back.

"Polly is strong but impulsive," you said quickly, as if reciting notes. "Arthur is obviously a sweet-hearted empathetic man that's been broken by his leaders and his vices to become the erratic explosive man he is today--"

Tommy scoffed as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. 

"Obviously," he said somewhere between a statement and a question. He waved his hand. "Go on."

"John wants the world handed to him on a platter and knows his charms and smile are the best way to get it. His aspirations barely go above women and drink. Ada, who I've seen rarely, is smart for wanting nothing to do with this operation. She tries to help those around her, from what I've heard of her in London. Michael was raised a nice village boy but has your ambition. I fear the day he actually gains power. And Finn is sweet and wants so badly for you to include him that he's willing to do anything. Dangerous for a young man his age."

"And?"

"And you," you exhaled tiredly. "Are very smart but your ego could suffocate anyone else in the room with you. Are you happy now? May I go?"

"No," he said as his arms dropped to his sides and he eyed you. His tone gentled to the point of startling you and you eyed him back. "You've noticed us, our strengths -- what you consider weaknesses--"

"Are weaknesses," you corrected as you crossed your arms and leaned on one hip to better look up at him. 

"Our weaknesses," he ground out. "Why?"

"You can't walk three steps in this town without hearing about a Shelby," you sighed. "You may not have noticed me but your family is impossible to avoid. Why do you think I work here? Better to work for the wolves than be preyed upon by them." 

"Is that some other latin phrase I should know?" 

Your smile held no joy as you watched Tommy Shelby finally remove himself from the doorway to let you pass. 

"No," you said as you stopped beside him and looked into his eyes one last time. "But here's one your family should learn if you ever want to stop ruling this town in fear: Ut ameris, amabilis esto."

"And that means?"

Your smile finally reached your eyes and you stepped out of the doorway. 

"You're a smart man," your mouth held in a tight line. "Look it up."

----

Tommy rolled his eyes and closed the door to his office behind her before he walked to his desk to put out his cigarette. He rummaged for another in his pocket and lit it. He inhaled slowly with his eyes closed before he sank into his chair and started shuffling the paperwork he needed to finish before he headed home. 

He looked at the door for a moment, knowing she would have been out the front door and walking through the city to get back to her place by now. He smiled softly as he leaned back and scoffed at the ceiling. He took another long drag of his cigarette and watched the smoke above him disappear. After a moment he finally leaned forward to work on his papers, pushing her and her words from his head. 

Once he got home, he nodded to the maid that greeted him and declined her offer for tea. 

"Not tonight, no thank you," he murmured as he moved silently through the house. 

He went into the study and poured himself a drink before he leaned on the shelf and looked back at his desk. The image of her leaning on it floated into his mind and he scoffed again, rolling his eyes at himself as if to shake her image away. 

Walking to the bookshelf that she had been looking through, he fingered a book out and sat down at his desk, taking a drink of his whiskey before he leafed through the pages. After quite some time, he chuckled and leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. He closed the book, chuckling to himself as he finished the whiskey he had forgotten about. 

"If you want to be loved, be loveable," he said softly.

----

The next few weeks went as they ever did. Other than the addition of working with Finn for an hour after work and the extra roll of money once a week at your desk, nothing seemed to have changed. You did your work, kept your head down, and thankfully the other Shelby's returned to ignoring you. 

You enjoyed your afternoons with Finn, and had easily made enough baked goods to fatten the boy up had he not been so active otherwise. He was always hungry and you had no problem feeding him as a reward as he progressed. He was quickly devouring the first book -- reading faster and more pages every day -- and you had happily picked out a few more books you thought he would enjoy that now waited in your desk drawer.

Tommy had been polite and distant, always out of his office before Finn appeared. One afternoon, you had walked into his empty office to see a note folded with your name on it. You looked at it, frozen for a moment, before you picked it up and opened it. It was a simple phrase, printed carefully. 

Amore et melle et felle es fecundissimus.

"Love is rich with honey and venom," you murmur with a smile. 

You slipped the paper into your pocket before you picked up a blank piece of paper and wrote your reply, Vincit qui se vincit. He conquers who conquers himself. You folded the paper and placed it on top of his seat as Finn came in. 

"Ready for today?" Finn asked, sitting down in his seat. "I bet we finish the book."

"I think you can," you answered with a smile as you rounded the desk to take your seat. "I have another I think you'll enjoy for after."

Finn opened the book to his marker and started reading. You allowed yourself a moment as you bit your lip, looking across the desk to Tommy's chair. Were you smart to play this game?

After that, a note appeared on your typewriter. You smiled when you opened the paper to read 'Aut viam inveniam aut faciam,' I will either find a way or make one. You scribbled your response, 'Malum consilium quod mutari non potest,' Bad is the plan that cannot change, and left it on his desk after your lesson with Finn. 

You continued passing Latin phrases back and forth every few days. Some of them were silly, others were motivational, but all of them had an undercurrent of a double meaning that you couldn't quite place. You both continued to be proper and professional with each other in person, but the cheeky Latin notes felt like they should be between two people far more close.

One afternoon, Finn showed up with a lopsided grin on his face. 

"Tommy told me to give you this," he said as he shoved the paper at you. "I tried to read it but that's not English, innit?"

You opened it carefully to read a scribbled 'Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.'

If I cannot move Heaven, I will raise Hell.

You smiled. 

"No, it's not English," you said before playfully glaring at him. "What are you reading other people's notes for anyhow?"

Finn smiled sheepishly. 

"They never tell me nothin'," he said. "I wanted to know if it was about me."

You laughed. 

"It's not about you, Finn," you reassured. "Now, let's start your book."

An hour later, you hugged Finn bye. 

"Finn!" You called as you finished writing and folded the paper. "Give Tommy this."

"Tommy?" He questioned with a smile. "I think that's the first I haven't heard 'Mr. Shelby.'"

"Just give him the note, cheeky brat," you laughed. 

Finn stuck his tongue out at you and opened the note. 

"Desti-" he read and knotted his face, "destitutes vent--"

"Destitutus ventis, remos adhibe," you laughed. "It means 'if the winds fail you, use the oars.'"

"What's that even mean?"

"It's not your note, is it?" You taunted. "You don't need to know."

Days later, you found a note stuck under a bottle of wine in front of your door. You opened it, immediately recognizing the messy writing that had replaced the clean letters of the first few notes as time passed. 'Audentes fortuna iuvat,' Fortune favors the bold. You smiled and looked around to find no one. You brought the bottle in and locked the door behind you. 

You wrote your response, unsure of how to give it to him after the bottle of wine on your door. You held onto it, hoping you would find a perfect opportunity. 

----

"I don't think you'll need me anymore after today, Finn," you said as you hugged the boy one Friday months later. "You've read through that last book with no problems. Just keep reading and you'll be great."

"If I woulda known that, I wouldn't have read so fast," he frowned as he closed the book he just finished. "I liked seeing you in the afternoons. I even looked forward to it after the weekends."

You laughed. 

"You can still see me around and we can talk books if you like," you smiled. "Tell you what, you can come around on Sundays. I'll feed you lunch and you can tell me what you're reading, how's that sound?"

"You promise?" Finn asked as his eyes lit up. "Deal."

"Inviting Shelby's into your home now?" Tommy called from behind them at the doorway. "Did Finn break the Shelby curse and warm your heart?"

"Tommy," you said evenly. "I was just telling our Finn that he won't need me anymore, but he was welcome to talk books with me anytime."

"If you think he's done, I suppose it's done," he said. "Our Finn, run on home and we can talk about your future once I get there. I'll need a word with (Y/N)."

"Yessir," Finn said as he looked at Tommy's serious expression. He gave you a friendly smile and was out in a flash. 

"Thank you for the wine," you said quietly once Finn was gone.

"Thank you for getting my brother's reading up to speed," he said. "In only a few months, too. I should make my other brothers see you."

"I don't think they would be as receptive," you laughed and he smiled. 

"Probably not," he chuckled. 

"I haven't found a note knocking around my desk," he said, taking a step forward from the doorway as you stood from your chair. "Did I lose it?"

You watched him carefully, but couldn't help but smile. 

"No, Tommy," you said. "You haven't lost it."

"Tommy, you say," he teased as he stepped in front of you. "I've finally lost the chill of using proper names."

"Tends to happen when you trade notes like children. Or spies."

"Well?" He said as he smiled and raised his eyebrows. "Where's my note?"

You tilted your head to look up at him to properly meet his eyes. 

"Do you pour over them by candlelight, trying to decipher them with your books you hadn't read until I upset you in your study?" You teased, smiling up at him. "Do you look forward to my responses, desperate for the challenge?"

"I've not been desperate in a long time," Tommy said, looking over your face as he leaned closer. "But I do look forward to a challenge."

"Happy to give you one, then," you said, looking down to his soft lips before meeting his bright blue eyes. 

"Are you talking about yourself or my next latin phrase, (Y/N)?" He growled as his own eyes dipped to your lips, causing you to smirk. 

"Acta non verba, Tommy," you said as you circled around him and out the door. "Goodnight and have a good weekend, Mr. Shelby," you called as you walked away. "I'm sure it will be filled with dubious adventures and women who find criminal activity all too attractive."

----

One afternoon a few days later, Tommy called for you and Lizzie from his doorway, leaving the other ladies in fits of whispers as to what was going on. Lizzie and you both shared a look, cautiously walking together into Tommy's office. 

"Close the door," he waved at you as he sat down, "I need to speak with both of you."

You closed the door quietly and turned as Tommy sat behind his desk. He shuffled some paperwork and motioned for you both to sit. 

"Now," he said as he cleared his throat. "I've been thinking about investing, or rather creating, a foundation for the orphan children of Birmingham."

Lizzie immediately stiffened before she went to say something. 

"Now Lizzie is already bogged down with my other ventures," Tommy said as he spoke over her before looking at you. "And you have a good head on your shoulders as well as an eye for bullshit. This foundation is to be above board and not to be mixed with my other operations, and I'd like you to set it up and run it." 

"Me?" You stammered, "I don't--"

"Lizzie will help teach you the paperwork and such," he said as he leaned back with his hands on the desk. "I'll trust you to set it up and keep it running. You'll report directly to me about it, and hopefully it will do some good around our city. What do you say, (Y/N)?"

"I don't-- I'm speechless," you said, looking between Lizzie's shocked face and Tommy's cool expression. "I'm not sure I'm fit for the job."

"You're fit as much as anyone else," he said evenly. "I trust you'll make yourself an expert overnight with that brain of yours. That'll be all, ladies, I'll fill you in more as I gather the pieces."

Lizzie stood up and went to walk back out the door but you sat shocked, still looking at Tommy's placid face. 

"Why me?" You asked barely above a whisper. "Why not Polly or Ada or Lizzie?"

"Someone once told me 'deeds not words,'" he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I fully intend on living by that."

[multifandomwriter56]

Filling in His Place

A/N: This was a request. Also it’s for @sdavid09​ Tale Teller’s 2020 Bingo Challenge.

Square Filled: Follower Prompt

Request by anon: Hey hun! I was wondering if I could request a Shelby!reader where she is Finn’s twin but she is treated the same way as him and she gets in trouble???? Xxxx (I hope this meets your expectations, love)

Summary: Tommy’s done with his sister’s antics and Y/n’s done with pretending her brother will ever be the same.

Characters: Tommy Shelby x Sister!Reader

Warnings: language, angst, spoilers for S4 and S5 (barely)

Word Count: 1,488

(Gif is by @el-cheung​)

Y/n loves being a twin. Always having someone the same age as her growing up has made being a Shelby much easier. Finn and her have always been troublemakers; and as they get older, they got into even more trouble.

Tommy used to be able to control the twins, but since he started playing politician, the responsibility fell onto their aunt.

Y/n does feel guilty for stressing their aunt out as much as they do.

The last time they trashed the Garrison, Polly had decided enough was enough and split them up for the time being.

Y/n, unfortunately, drew the short straw so to speak and was sent to the Arrow House.

She had only been there five minutes when Tommy had call her into his office and gave her a lengthy lecture on acting like an adult.

She almost left right then, but she decided spending some time with her niece and nephew would be good. Besides Lizzie, the two children hardly ever saw family;especially Charlie. When her brother and Lizzie would fight, Lizzie would take her and Ruby to Arthur’s place; leaving Charlie behind. 

***

One morning she decided she was done with staying in her brother’s mansion and decided to head back to Small Heath.

She stole Tommy's car and was planning on picking up her twin; but when she arrived, he was gone.

Apparently Finn was in London with Arthur for the day.

She thought about going back to the house, but she figured she might as well enjoy her freedom while she still can. She has a feeling, Tommy won't be so forgiving this time.

So she heads to the Garrison for a few drinks. Since John died, it seems like none of her family really goes to the pub anymore besides Finn. Even now, Y/n feels a sadness flow over her as she makes her way to the bar.

“Y/n?”

“Hey Harry, give me bottle of rum.”

“Sorry Y/n, I can’t. Tommy said-”

“Fuck my brother, give me the damn bottle or I’ll get two, and I’ll smash one over your fucking skull.”

Harry weighs in his options. Deal with an angry Shelby now or later. He decides to go with the former. He turns his back on the young woman before turning back to face her with the bottle in his hand. 

Y/n smiles sweetly but the man easily sees the sadistic nature in her eyes. Just like her brothers.

“Thanks, Harry.” 

Harry waits about ten minutes after Y/n left before picking up the phone. When he receives no answer, he tries the next best. 

“Hello.”

“Hey Arthur, I need you to give Tommy a message.”

***

“You’re fucking crazy, Y/n Shelby.”

Johnny Dogs’ words has the youngest Shelby giggling loudly, almost falling off the black stallion Tommy gave Johnny years ago. 

“I rather be crazy than fucking normal.” She tips the bottle back, frowning when she barely gets a drop. She slides down off the stallion. “We need more rum.” She announces as she throws the bottle in the air, smiling when it crashes to the ground, shattering into pieces. 

“Y/n Shelby!”

“Fuck.” Y/n whispers. She searches around the wooded area with her eyes to try and find the best place to hide. Her gaze lands on an amused Johnny and her eyes instantly narrow. “Did you fucking snitch?”

Johnny’s eyes widen as he shakes his head. “I-I’ve been with you the whole time.”

“Huh, that’s true.” Hearing footsteps getting closer, Y/n remembers she was trying to escape. 

She takes about two steps before a strong hand grips around her forearm. “Just remember I’m drunk, you can’t yell at me.” She giggles but immediately stops when her eyes finally meet her brother’s. 

Tommy grins at his little sister, the same sadistic nature clouding his own eyes. “You want me to wait until you’re fucking sober, eh?”

Y/n is regretting her words. “No, Tommy, wait!” She tries to pull out of her brother’s grasp as he pulls her towards the pond. “Don’t you fucking dare!” She shouts when Tommy pulls her up into his arms. She tries to grip his coat, but being in the drunken state that she is, she’s not able to grip the material tight enough.

The sadistic grin stays until Y/n stops cursing and calms down. Once he has her attention, he drops any sign of amusement and his eyes narrow. “Feel better?”

“No.” Y/n sasses before pulling herself out of the water. 

Tommy points in the general direction he came from. “Go to the fucking car.”

“Which one?” She taunts.

“Mine. The one you stole.”

“Borrowed.” She mumbles, but scurries away when Tommy takes two threatening steps towards her. She gets lost twice; the alcohol still running through her veins is making her brain fuzzy. 

She screams when someone taps her shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Y/n.” Tommy snaps as he motions for her to follow him.

***

The ride to her brother’s house is dead silent. 

Y/n tries to flee up the stairs, but Tommy quickly snatches her arm in a firm grip.

"Not so fucking fast, young lady." He growls in her ear as he pulls her into his office, pushing her just enough to force her to sit on the couch.

"Stop fucking pushing me around!" She snaps.

Tommy points a warning finger mere inches from her face. "Watch the tone."

Y/n bites her lip to keep herself from pissing her brother off even more.

Slightly mollified with her silence, Tommy drops the pointed finger. "If you keep on like this, Y/n, I'm locking you in your fucking room until I find a man to marry you off to."

Y/n's jaw slacks open, hoping she heard her brother wrong. "You're not picking who I marry, asshole. Yes, I would love your blessing when I want to get married; but, as of now, I'm happy being alone. I'm barely of age, still have a few years before I even think about crossing that bridge."

Tommy had instantly regretted his words. He didn't really mean them... well, he didn't mean the part of marrying his baby sister off. Locking her in her room seems to be his only option right now.

"I'm not a child, Tom."

"Then stop fucking acting like one!" He roars, the last string holding his temper snaps. "Fuck, Y/n, every time I see you now, you're in some kind of trouble. You and Finn aren't kids anymore."

"It's not my fault that the only time you want to see your kid siblings is when they're making you look bad!" Y/n snaps back; her hurt and anger from being ignore for so long spilling from her mouth. "You used to want to be around Finn and I. Now you only see us when Arthur calls about our behavior; or Aunt Polly threatens to send us to live with you." She huffs out a humorless laugh. "I thought the older I would get, the more I could be with you, helping you with the business. But I guess I was fucking wrong. I guess there's not much Finn and I can do for you except run errands and be your little messengers."

“So are you done with the childish acts?”

Y/n swallows the sob threaten to escape. She finally sees Tommy; the new Tommy. The one who only cares about getting to the top and proving he’s worthy to sit at the adult table. 

He wants her to pretend they solved the issue so he can focus on something more important than her. “Yeah, I’ll behave.” She stands to her feet. “I’m guessing you don’t want me leaving the house anytime soon?”

Tommy nods his head, glad his sister isn’t arguing with him anymore. “You can leave when Pol says you can come back to her place.”

Y/n nods, quickly making her exit from his office so he won’t see the tears freely flowing down her face. 

Tommy drops his head, fighting with himself on whether he should stop her. He knows they didn’t make amends, but he has other business in London to tend to.

And if she keeps her word and behaves; he won’t have to worry about her, or Finn for that matter, every second of the day. He needs to stay sharp; his mind can’t be wandering back to his siblings’ whereabouts. 

Y/n wipes away the tears as she hears children laughing. She smiles when two kids run to greet her.

“Aunt Y/n, we missed you!”

She hugs them both. “Oh, I missed you too.”

She silently promises to her niece and nephew that she will do what her brother wishes as long as she can; just so she can be near them. They need a father; but she’ll do her best to fill in his spot. 

Forevers: @beautycinders​ @desiredposion​

[poge-life]

The Cut } Finn Shelby chap. 1

introduction  prologue chapter 2

Never in a million years did anyone think Tommy Shelby, notorious gang leader, would be getting married. But here Penelope was, getting ready with Willow, Lizzie Stark, Ada Thorne, Polly Grey, and her mother.

"Willow, I swear if you pull my hair one more time, I'll cut you." Penelope threatened as her best friend was doing her hair.

The four older women let out a laugh at the two girls, used to their threats. Penelope and Willow had met after the boys came home from the war and had been best friends' sense; along with Finn and Isaiah. You never saw one without the other these days.

"I wouldn't have to pull so hard if you actually brushed your hair everyday." Willow defended, tugging on the blonde's hair again.

"Willow!" Penelope groaned, moving her head away from the girl. Audrey let out a chuckle, moving to stand behind her daughter, "Alright, Willow finish getting dressed. I'll do her hair."

Willow gave a final tug on Penelope's hair, quickly moving out of the way to avoid getting hit by her best friend. Audrey had gently brushed through Penelope's hair before pinning the front pieces back and bringing them together with a braid in the back. Audrey added a few hair pieces that Grace had loaned them and placed a kiss on top of her daughter's head.

Penelope looked at her mom in the mirror as Audrey wrapped her arms around her shoulders, "Had Finn seen your dress yet?"

Penelope let a smile make its way across her face at the mention of the red-haired boy. Her and the youngest Shelby were 6 months apart, the latter being older. They were thick as thieves growing up; as John and James went to school together and Tommy and Camden being the same age. Finn took pride in the fact Penelope chose him. Out of all the boys in Birmingham, she chose him.

"Not yet," She replied, "I've managed to hide it from him."

"I know he'll be speechless when he sees you." Audrey smiled at her daughter.

Audrey absolutely loved her daughter and Finn being together. Everyone often joked that Audrey preferred Finn over Penelope and Audrey has yet to deny it.

It was no secret to anyone that Penelope was Audrey and David's pride and joy. But that didn't mean they loved James and Camden any less. They knew it was because she was their little girl. Penelope got her mothers looks and her fathers brains. A dangerous combination. Penelope was often used as bait to get men to pay the money they owed her father and the Shelby's. She knew her father nor Tommy would let any guy touch her. And if they did, the would have to deal with not only her father, but her brothers and the Peaky Blinders as well.

A knock sounded throughout the room and Lizzie moved to answer the door, "Audrey. It's David and your sons."

Audrey motioned for them to be let in and Lizzie moved off to the side as they entered. David was followed by James and Camden as they greeted each lady with a kiss on the cheek before making their way to Audrey and Penelope.

"I do believe I am the luckiest man in the world." David smiled, wrapping his arms around his wife as Penelope turned to face her parents.

The Longfield siblings idolized their parents and the love they had for each other. Audrey and David met when Audrey's family moved from London to Small Heath and David had been the one to show her around the little town. Most women were expected to leave their jobs when they fell pregnant but not hers. David respected his wife. Treated her as an equal and higher. With him having many flourishing businesses, he stayed home for a while after Audrey went back to work after every child was born and he would stay home for as long as Audrey needed.

"We had to pay Isaiah and Michael to keep Finn away from here." James laughed, taking a seat next to Polly on the couch, sending her a cheeky smile as he wrapped his arm around her, "Boy is nearly going mental without you."

"They're in love," Polly smiled, nudging the blonde, "Leave them be."

"Besides, this is the longest they've been away from each other since they were born." Ada added as Polly and Audrey agreed.

"Oh come off it." Penelope groaned, walking over to the divider where her dress was. She signaled for Willow to come help her, as she wouldn't be able to do the buttons on her dress.

"I think it's adorable how much you two love each other." Willow smiled, nudging her best friend as she helped Penelope into her dress. The dress she would be wearing was from her mothers collection that wasn't out yet and Penelope was in love with it.

It was a velvet green dress that fell to just under her knees. It had a pink flower sheer lace over the entire dress and had slits filled in with green lace all around the dress and she paired it with white heels.

Willow and all the ladies were wearing something made by Audrey. Grace had even come to Audrey about making her wedding dress and Penelope was excited to see what her mother had come up with.

Despite everything that Grace had done to the Shelby family a few years back, they had all learned that Grace was pregnant and it was Tommy's. And two years later, Charles Michael Shelby was born and he was a beautiful little boy.

Willow helped Penelope fix her hair and her jewelry before they stepped out from behind the divider. The room had gone quiet, causing Penelope to look down at the ground.

"You look absolutely gorgeous, Penny." Lizzie smiled causing Penelope to lift her head. The other ladies agreed as David made his way over to the blonde, "Absolutely stunning, my shiny Penny."

David pulled Penelope into him as she wrapped her arms around her father. David Longfield was an exceptional man and an amazing father. He always gave to those who weren't as fortunate, offered hot meals and a place to stay for anyone who needed it. He played the father figure to the Shelby's after their father took off and David considered them his honorary kids. He was there when the three eldest Shelby boys and his boys were drafted for war and he was there to help them all find their way out of the dark.

"Alright," Audrey clapped, "the wedding starts in 15 minutes so we need to leave."

David placed a kiss on Penelope's head, pulling away from her as Penelope linked arms with Willow and Ada, making their way out of the room.

"I can tell you're nervous and there's nothing to be nervous about," Ada spoke, "Finn absolutely loves you. You could be wearing a sack and he'd still think you look stunning."

Penelope felt her face heat up at the older girls words. It was no secret to anyone on how much the two teenagers cared for each other. Even at a young age, the two were head over heels for each other. Penelope had made the first move, considering Finn was shy, but he was slowly breaking out of his shell.

They made quick small talk as they made their way to the front of Tommy's house, where the rest of the family was. Willow sent Penelope a wink and a smile before making her way over to her brother and father. Ada gave her arm a squeeze before making her way towards her brothers, turning Finn around to face his girlfriend.

Penelope took small steps as Finn did the same. He moved some hair out of her face, placing his hand on the side of her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek, "You look...wow. You are so gorgeous."

Penelope let her eyes trail over his figure; he was wearing a dark brown suit under his coat with his peaky cap in his pocket. He had a red flower pinned to his lapel and she noticed he left his hair natural, his wild red curls were styled up with some gel, "You clean up well, Mr Shelby."

Finn smiled before leaning down to place a kiss on her lips. They pulled away with a smile and Penelope noticed the nervous look on his face, "What's wrong?"

Finn looked over her shoulder before looking back at her, "Your dad 'nd brothers have been watchin' me since I walked over 'ere."

Penelope groaned before turning around to throw a glare at her brothers, causing them and her father to walk over to the couple, "Any reason why you lot are terrifying my boyfriend?"

Camden shrugged, throwing his arm around Finn's shoulders, "Just making sure Finny Boy is being a gentleman."

Everyone knew Finn was terrified of Penelope's dad and brothers. Hell, so were the Shelby boys, well, they were scared of her father. Tommy looked up to David, as did his brothers. He had a beautiful wife, three wonderful children, and many successful businesses.

"Please," Penelope scoffed, glaring at her oldest brother, "You know Finn's a gentlemen."

Finn was the favorite Shelby, besides Ada, to the Longfield's. He was innocent compared to his brothers. He hadn't seen the troubles of war and he hadn't killed anyone. He always, well most of the time, used his manners and treated Audrey and Penelope with respect. But, there was a part of Finn that wished he could be like his brothers. Yes, he got respect only because of his last name but his brothers got respect because of the type of men they were.

"He better," James smirked, "because he knows what'll happen if he isn't."

Finn paled at his words and looked at Penelope, who elbowed her brother in the stomach, causing him to double-over, before looking over at her father, who was looking quite amused at his children. David chuckled before grabbing both of his sons, "Alright. Leave your sister alone. She can handle it."

Penelope stepped forward to straighten Finn's coat before pulling him down so she could kiss him. She pulled away when she realized he was stiff and shook her head, "At least act like you like me, Finn."

He placed a kiss on her forehead before offering her his arm. He led them over to the rest of the group before they all made their way to the church. Tommy and Arthur were already at the end of the aisle and Penelope smiled at the content look on Tommy's face. The same couldn't be said about Arthur's.

Penelope noticed the many red coats on Grace's side of the church and she quickly looked for her brother's and John. John, James, Camden, Arthur, and Tommy all held the same distaste for the red coats. When they went off to war, they were to dig tunnels to get into the enemies camp. The tunnels had collapsed and they waited for three days for the Calvary. For three days, they suffered in the dark, only with each other, waiting for the bloody red coats to help them.

Penelope made eye contact with her mother and motioned to the left side of the church, causing Audrey to look over before whispering to her husband. David looked around for his two kids before quickly grabbing them before they could leave the church.

Finn and Penelope made their way through the pew and Penelope stopped in her tracks when she noticed she would be sitting next to Linda. Arthur's very religious wife. She turned to look at Finn, who just sent her a cheeky smile. She quickly elbowed him before sitting next to her. Her parents were behind them with Isaiah, Willow, and her brothers sitting next to them.

Penelope put a little bit of space between her and Linda, sending her a smile. It's not that Penelope didn't like Linda, it's just that Linda had a very...strong opinion about the Shelby and     Longfield's lifestyle. Yes, David's businesses were 100% legal but he did start sending some of his whiskey out with Tommy's when they did business with Alfie Soloman's. And Linda had a very strong opinion about all of it.

John and Esme were sat with one of their kids next to Finn with Ada, Karl, and Michael at the end. John was staring at the red coats and Finn was mouthing off to them. Penelope rolled her eyes and turned to look at her brothers who were in the same state as John.

She turned her attention back to Grace's side of the church and narrowed her eyes at the blonde who was making heart eyes at Finn. Penelope put her hand on his jaw, turning him to look at her before she pulled him into a deep kiss.

They pulled away after a bit and Penelope wiped her lipstick off his lips as Finn stared at her. She heard her mother and Polly chuckle at her action as Isaiah and Willow let out loud laughs, no doubt noticing the blonde staring at Finn.

"What was that about," Finn asked, "Not that I'm upset about it."

Penelope pecked his lips before smiling, "Just letting them know neither of us are available."

Finn smirked at his girlfriend before setting his hand on her thigh. Jeremiah, Isaiah and Willow's father, made his way up to where Tommy and Arthur were and she noticed how appalled Grace's family looked.

Her and Finn turned to look at their best friends, knowing that was something that they dealt with more than they liked. The twins sent the couple a reassuring look, letting them know they were okay.

Penelope met Isaiah and Willow after her brothers came home from the war. Audrey, Polly, and David had thrown a dinner for the return of their families. Finn had dragged Penelope with him to introduce her to his new friends; the four being inseparable since.

The Wedding March played throughout the church as all the guests stood up. Grace was wearing a beautiful purple silk dress with a dark purple veil that went over her head. She looked absolutely stunning. Audrey really out did herself.

"Here comes the fucking calvary. Late as usual." John mumbled, causing Penelope to bury her mouth on Finn's shoulder to hide her laughs. Penelope had smiled at the sight of Tommy and Grace and she wondered if that's how her and Finn looked at each other.

The ceremony was beautiful and none of them cared at the looks they received from Grace's family at the loud cheers they let out as Tommy and Grace kissed.

They all made their way outside for the pictures and Penelope let out a loud laugh as Finn twirled her around before setting her down. She noticed that all the boys, including James and Camden, had their peaky caps on and she rolled her eyes at the sight.

A few of the girls from Grace's family were fighting over the bouquet and Penelope and Willow shared a look before laughing. Arthur ushered the girls away so that they could take the picture. Finn wrapped his arm around her waist as she placed one of hers on his chest as she looked up at him.

Finn had grown up in the last two years. His freckles had darkened and he had grown considerably taller than her. He filled out in muscle and was close to catching up with Arthur and her father in height. Penelope realized how handsome he was and how she was lucky to have him.

"What?" Finn asked, pulling her from her thoughts as she smiled, "You're just so handsome."

Finn smiled at her before placing a kiss on her forehead before turning to face the photographer. She blinked a few times as the flash went off twice, causing her to blink rapidly.

"Sorry Finn," Willow called, tugging the blonde away from said boy, "I'm stealing your girlfriend."

Willow and Penelope quickly made their way through the crowd as Finn chased after them. The girls let out giggles as they ran through the grass, hand in hand, holding up their dresses with their free hand. They slowed to a stop as they neared Tommy's drive way, waiting for everyone to catch up.

"What was that?" Penelope panted, looking at her best friend. Willow looked at the group of people before looking back at the blonde," Michael was walking towards me and I don't want to talk to him."

"I thought you two were together?" Penelope furrowed her eyebrows at Willow who just shook her head, "We are. I think. We argued the other day and we haven't talked since."

"What did you guys fight about?"

"I told him I loved him but he didn't say it back." Willow whispered. Penelope pulled her into a hug. Ever since Michael came to Birmingham, he was infatuated with Willow. She happened to be the only girl besides Penelope that didn't fall for him. But once Isaiah took Michael under his wing to show him the ropes, Willow started feeling something for the boy.

"I'm sorry, Will."

Willow let out a few sniffles before pulling away, " 'Saiah's been trying to get me to talk to him but I don't think I'm ready."

"You can be my date for the rest of the night. Finn can put his big boy pants on and deal with it."

Willow giggled at the blonde's word and intertwined their hands, leaning her head on her shoulder. The two were often seen holding hands and touching in someway but no one ever dared to say anything about it due to their connections to the Peaky Blinders and because of Penelope's family.

Tommy and Grace were the first to arrive and Penelope and Willow pulled the two newly weds into a hug. The two girls were the only people that Tommy would hug besides his family but he rarely did it in public. The newly married couple made their way onto their house as the rest of the guests arrived.

Finn was walking with Isaiah and John before he spotted his girlfriend and his best friends sister. Penelope and Willow gave him a big smile before they made their way into the house, ignoring the looks from Grace's family at the sight of the two holding hands.

Penelope was halfway through her first glass of champagne when arms wrapped around her waist, "You're hiding from me."

She placed her glass on a tray before turning to wrap her arms around Finn's neck, looking up at him, "And you found me."

"This mean I get a reward." Finn smirked, giving her waist a squeeze. Penelope lightly ran her nails over the back of Finn's head, causing him to close his eyes, "Mm, come find me at the end of the night and we'll see."

Before Finn could respond, the two were pulled away from each other by Willow and James, "Tommy's called a meeting in the kitchen."

The four made their way to the kitchens, taking a few wrong turns but eventually finding it. Finn and her brother made a beeline for the food while the two girls made their way over to Tommy.

"Where are they?" Tommy asked as Johnny Dogs came through the side door, "Where's John and Arthur?"

Finn made his way over to Penelope with Arthur, Michael, and her brothers in tow as John and her father came through the servants entrance. Finn moved to stand by Penelope but Camden put him in a headlock, pulling him in between him and Johnny Dogs as James stood next to Camden. Penelope shot her oldest brother a glare as she moved to stand between Isaiah and Willow, Arthur and her father sitting on the end of the table as Tom stood in the middle of the room.

"Alright, boys, Penny, Willow, you're all here," Tommy started, "Today is my fucking wedding day."

"Yeah," John spoke, "And you said there'd be no bloody uniforms."

David sent his two sons a look as they went to agree but quickly shut their mouths.

"Nevertheless," Tommy said, "Nevertheless, John, James, Camden. Despite the bad blood, I'll 'ave none of it on my carpet. Now, for Grace's sake, nothing will go wrong."

"Those bastards, out there, are her family," he continued, "and if you fuckers, do anything to embarrass 'er, your kin, your cousins, your horses, you fucking do anything-"

"Tom." Isaiah spoke, causing Penelope to groan

"What?!?!"

"What about snow?" Isaiah asked

"Oh bloody hell." Willow groaned as John grabbed Isaiah by the back of the head, "yeah, their women are sport, I'll give them that."

"No, no," Tommy spoke, "No cocaine."

"No sport. No telling fortunes." He pointed to John

"No racing." Next was Arthur. Tommy moved to grab Finn's face, "No fucking sucking petrol out of their fucking cars."

With a smack, he turned to face the two girls, "No gambling with them to get their money." The two girls shared a smirk before agreeing. The two girls were often sent into David's casino's to try and get money out of potential dealers for David and Tommy.

Penelope noticed the dazed look on Willow's face and followed her line of vision to see her staring at Michael, who was staring back at her with a smirk. Penelope just raised her eyebrows at him before nudging Willow, snapping her back into reality.

"And you, Charlie," Tommy had turned to face his uncle, "quit telling yearns about me, eh?"

"I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom."

Tommy rubbed his eyes in frustration and Penelope leaned forward to look at her dad, signaling for him to say something. David moved next to Tommy and patted him on the back, "If Tommy or myself hear that any of you bastards did anything to make Grace or her family upset, I'll personally see to that you are dealt with."

Now everyone didn't even think about fucking the night up for Tommy and Grace. David Longfield wasn't someone you wanted to cross.

"Thank you, David." Tommy nodded his head in appreciation at the older man before looking around the room again, "But, the main thing is, that the bunch of you fuckers, despite the provocation from the calvary, no fighting."

Tommy immediately looked towards the eldest Jesus sibling and Willow snorted in amusement as their father covered his mouth.

"No fighting." He pointed to Isaiah, "No fucking fighting." John was next, "No fighting." Arthur raised his hands in surrender as Tommy just pointed at Michael as he always kept his clean since he dealt with the legal side of the business. Tommy then turned to look at Finn and Penelope's brother, "No. Fucking. Fighting!"

They all let out sounds of agreement as Tommy nodded. David handed Tommy his as jacket as a waiter made the mistake of bumped into him, "Get the fuck off me!"

With that, the waiter was on the ground, the wine bottle shattered and Arthur threw his half eaten carrot at him. David placed his hands on Tommy's shoulders and led him out of the room before he actually killed one of them.

Finn threw his arm around Penelope's shoulder as they made their way up to the dining room, "is that what you and Isaiah do when you two go out?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, Penny." Finn answered, giving her a smile.

Penelope was sat between Lizzie and Finn with Michael on the other side of him. Tommy and Grace were at one end of the table with Penelope's parents at the other.

Finn had one hand on her thigh and the other was holding his whiskey while Penelope had one hand around Finn's neck, lightly dragging her nails over the short hairs. Penelope often cursed Tommy for their ridiculous haircut as she loved Finn's wild curls. Up until this year, he used to try and tame his curls by gelling them down but ever since he, Isaiah, and Michael were no longer 'junior peakey's' he opted cutting his hair shorter, losing almost all his curls. Most days he just styled his curls up and on days he attended events with his brothers, he would gel them down.

"There's a blonde girl who keeps undressing Finn with her eyes sitting across from you." Lizzie mumbled, bringing her glass up to her lips. Penelope turned to see the same blonde from the church doing exactly what Lizzie said she was doing.

She threw the rest of her drink back, turning to face the women, "She was doing the same thing in the church and I practically made out with Finn to prove he wasn't available."

"Girls like her are used to getting what they want," Lizzie spoke, "And since she knows Finn is with you, she'll try everything to get him."

"Not if I have something to do about it. She can try but she won't get very far." Penelope mumbled causing Lizzie to laugh. Penelope turned her attention back to Finn as he seemed bored and would rather be anywhere else. She grabbed his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers, "What's on your mind, love?"

"Just thinking about my reward later." He smirked, giving her hand a squeeze as she rolled her eyes. She leaned her head on his shoulder, looking at the blonde sitting across from them, "That girl is making it really hard for me to listen to my dad 'nd Tommy."

Finn looked up to see what girl she was talking about and the girl winked at him and Finn felt Penelope's grip tighten on his hand, causing him to look back at her.

After the most weird toast given by Arthur, the guests made their way into the ballroom.

Penelope had her arm linked with Finn's as they made their way through the crowd; trying to find someone their own age. Willow pushed people out of her way as she stepped in front of the couple, "Who's the whore with Michael?"

Penelope and Finn both looked over to see a girl with short brown hair in a white flapper dress standing very close to the boy.

"She tried getting snow off Isaiah when we got 'ere," Finn explained, turning to face the girl, "she's very eager to get it off someone."

"She's never done it," Penelope smirked, looking between the two, "If she had, she wouldn't be so obvious about getting some. Let alone being obvious about it at Tommy Shelby's wedding."

The two just looked at her in wonder, causing her to roll her eyes, "My dad owns casino's and pubs. I know snow and peoples behavior."

Finn and Willow both nodded in realization. Penelope knew when people were using snow; considering her and Finn had done it a few times. But being at her father's establishments, she knew when people had never done it and when they had. And this girl had definitely never done it before; being so obvious about it.

John and James had walked up to the trio, John whispering in Finn's ear as the boy nodded. Finn pulled Penelope with him as she grabbed Willow, following the two older boys.

"What's going on?" Penelope asked as they walked through the house

"There's something going on and Tommy wants us to make noise. So, Arthur and meself rallied together the fucking calvary to some racing and Finn boy will be riding."

Penelope perked up at the sound of Finn getting to race. She knew how much he loved horses and he took care of Tommy's and her father's any chance he got. Finn was an excellent rider and almost never lost a race. She loved watching him race and everyone knew it.

"What's that got to do with me?" Penelope questioned

Finn, who somehow ended up with his peaky cap, shrugged off his coat, putting it around his girlfriend's shoulders. He pulled off his jacket and handed it to her, quickly followed by his waist coat and his button up. Leaving him in his suspenders and undershirt. He pulled Penelope to him by her waist and tilted her head up to look at him, "Yer dad doesn't want you near the house when it's happening, so, you're going to stand there and cheer for me, while I show the fucking calvary, you don't fuck with the peaky blinders."

He placed a deep kiss on her lips and pulled away, following after his brothers.

Penelope blinked a few times, trying to process the last 30 seconds as she turned to face Willow walked up to her, "What?

Penelope pulled Finn's coat tighter against her, looking over at Willow, "I think Finn turned me on without touching me."

[floatinginwords]

Saved by the Devil (10/?) - Tommy Shelby

Summary: You spend a little time with Tommy (Again sorry about my summaries i suck at them)

Paring: Tommy Shelby x Fem!reader (not romantic..but we are getting there slowly but surely) 

A/n: Hi everyone. this chapter maybe a bit shorter than what i usually write and i didnt proof read this one so apologizes for that. This semester is just annoying. Too much going on for stupid online courses. Anyway this chapter is bit more in Tommys p.o.v, i mean we get a bit of readers in the end but yea...if you dont like that tell me or if you do tell me. If you guys have any questions or anything like that just tell me. And of course and always have a lovely day. 

Thomas Shelby leads you to a little apartment near his office. He knew he could have driven you to the train station, given you some fare as you went on your way. He could have driven you to London. Hell, he could have paid someone to do it. But there was part of him deep down within that didn’t want you to go yet. It was a surprise for him to see you in the office. He hadn’t been avoiding you, things were just getting hectic around with the business. And with the constant pressure from the inspector and the sudden charges on Arthur and Michael, his focus needed to be sharp. And then he exits his office and see you standing with Lizzie, Polly, and Esme. For the first since he’s known you, he actually detected a little bit of nervousness from you.

At first he didn’t understand why you wanted to help in his little plan. It didn’t make sense for you to put yourself in harms way with all the shit you’ve already been through. He notices that when he asks about your father the way you tense up. He doesn’t know why he asks, its something he rather not talk about either. But it was a question that bothered him for awhile. He could of asked your father, in that last meeting when…

Thomas shakes his head from his thoughts turning to look at you who seemed just as dazed and muddled in their own thoughts. You were definitely an enigma to him. He doesn’t even remember what he said to make you laugh. All he remembers is that he did.

To him you laugh was like a canary singing a song of hope in the middle of brutal winter. Thomas doesn’t think he ever heard a sound so sweet. He feels his lips stretch into a smile, something that felt foreign on his face. It was definitely something he hadn’t done in awhile. So as he walks you to his place, keeping a gentle hand on your elbow to keep your balance. He couldn’t help but to think to himself ‘how can I hear that sound again?’

So he leads you in the apartment, setting you down on his couch. You flop down like a child and he cant help but be amused at your drunken state.

 “Mr.Shelby, I believe I drank too much.” You hiccup.

 “Thats alright,” Thomas says, “Listen you can rest here and we’ll talk more in the morning.” He doesn’t really want to end the night yet but he can see the fatigue in your face.

 You shake you head at him, “We can talk now. I don’t sleep very much.” You don’t look into his eyes as you speak which he finds odd. A detail he’s always noticed was the eye contact you gave. He couldn’t tell what you were searching but he appreciated it, not many people could look him in the eye.

Hes suddenly reminded of a conversation you had awhile ago. When you had bluntly asked him your father was dead. He had expected you to say nothing for that entire ride. But you didn’t. He remembers your question.

“Do your nightmares ever stay with you longer that you would like?”

He had answered honestly. The nightmares often lingered around him for days sometimes weeks. It wasn’t often he got a good nights sleep. He could see the sleep in your eyes wanting to take over. You were fighting it though quite easily like you’ve done it before.  He didn’t want to be overstepping any line and he also didn’t want to seem creepy remembering a conversation, a small detail from weeks ago. He wasn’t sure at all how you’d react to it. So he decided to say nothing, wait for you to take the lead. Which you did, mostly because your mouth seemed to have a mind of its own sometimes.

 “You get nightmares too Mr. Shelby, I remember you agreeing with me this one time…”You trail off slurring your word, “Sometimes they can be so much…”

 “What do you dream about?” He asks.

 You don’t answer. Thomas doesn’t pressure you for answer, you look to be searching for one. Your mouth open and eyes wandering around the room. But you give no answer.

 Thomas decides to speak, lighting a cigarette as he does, “I dream about France sometimes.” The answer surprise him. Hes not one for opening up.

 You don’t say anything so he continues, “I can hear the shovels at night. That’s when their the loudest.” He blows the smoke as he talks.

“I sometimes dream of the hospital…they didn’t exactly treat me great there. Sometimes its my father…” You say the word ‘father’ quietly as if it was like a little curse falling off your lips.

 Thomas wants to ask you what that man had done to you, why it seemed you feared and hated him so much. He wished he asked you in that first meeting with you. When he promised to kill him for you…..he knew then it was something you wanted, he didn’t know how badly…maybe if he had known he would have done things differently.

 “Sometime he’s not even doing anything…he’s just watching me. And smiling,” You say pulling him away from his thoughts, “It takes a moment for me to realize he’s not there. He’s not watching.” You stop talking suddenly, certainly not meaning to get that honest.

 Thomas clenches his jaw, “well it’s a good thing hes not around anymore.”

 You look up at him for the first time the whole night, meeting his eyes. Your stare sends shivers up his arms.

 “Right…” you trail off, looking uncertain. “Mr Shelby I-“

 “You know,” He cuts you off wanting to change the subject, “I don’t think this is very business like.”

“Excuse me.” You blink confused with the sudden statement.

 “I mean you won’t’ call me by my name because this is business but here you are at my place, drunk, talking to me about stuff that not business.”

 You scoff at him. “Are you really that bothered by it?” you tease

 “I just think in settings like this, you can let go a little bit.”

 “I think you should get used to disappointment, Mr.Shelby.” You emphasize his name a bit.

 “You must admit that we aren’t doing anything related to business.”

 “Then what would you call it?” You challenge.

 And he didn’t know what to call it. But he just felt more. Maybe it was friendship. He definitely enjoyed your company. He wasn’t afraid to admit that to himself. Hes reminded of the feelings of when you got hurt at the horse auction and went missing those three days. He didn’t want to admit that there was apart of him that cared for you. That part has been locked away ever since Grace. He had trusted her and loved her. And then she betrayed him. And there was just a part of him that just didn’t want to go through that again.

“Are you okay,” you ask, “you went quiet for a minute.”

 “ Yea just thinking.”

 “Do you wanna keep talking?” you say shyly.

 And he couldn’t say no to you. That night the two of you spend you time just talking. It’s the first time Tommy’s ever done something like that. Take a woman home and not bed her. He wasn’t thinking about doing that with you but it had dawned on him later that small fact. You listened to his stories about his family. You were an only child and had no stories nearly s fun as his. You tell him you wish you grew up in a big family. You list all the places you wanted to travel to and he watches you ramble about them. The two of you laugh and smile. Both feeling lighter in each others presence. He can see you loosening up a bit and he just wonders what your like when you aren’t fully on guard. He can fee himself doing the same. He doesn’t mind but he knews that hes going to berate himself later. Hours pass and You both fall asleep on the couch, neither of you remembering what the other was talking about as you do. It was the first time in a long time that either of you had fallen asleep peacefully.

 You wake up first, feeling an awful pudding within your head. Why was it that you never could know your limit. You attempt to get up when you sense an arm around you. A unwelcomed flutter of butterflies erupt in your stomach as you realize who the arm belongs to.

 ‘Fuck’ you think to yourself trying to untangle yourself from his arm, trying to understand how you even got roped up in him.

 Successfully you manage to unwrap your self from him, the warmth of his body leaving your side making you feel cold. You’re tempted to roll back but think against it. You stretch up from the couch and walk around the apartment quietly. It wasn’t very big. The living room connected to the kitchen. And his room connected to the bathroom. You wonder around trying to wake your creaky bones. You see a bundle of letters on his, dresser with very neat and lovely writing, addressed to him. You see a pipe beside his bed and pick it up wondering if he used this on himself last night. You walk backwards trying to take it all in. He didnt have much. A few pictures of him and his siblings. And that woman from before. The older one who gave you chills with her stare. Pol-polly you think her name was. You continue walking backward before bumping into his dresser. The letters falling down. You bend down picking them up not without looking more closely at the beautiful stationary. You see at corner of the envelope

From Grace

 For a minute  you’re really disappointed. And you don’t know why. And then the pieces fall together. When you remember Mr.shelbys horses name, “Graces secret,” And when Ada told you ‘he had someone last year.” You don’t know why you feel uncomfortable all of a sudden. You don’t feel right hanging around his apartment. Unless their not together? Wait why do you even care? You neatly stack the envelopes back to their place and calmly walk away, needing to distract yourself from the sudden intrusion of thoughts you would very much like to get rid of.

 You pass by Thomas sleeping body. You pause to look at him. Admiring the way his feature seem to soften up as he slept. You almost compare him to an angel. A knock on the door alerts you as you sit up straight. Thomas shoots up in a panic. He looks at you confused before getting up.

 “How long have you been up?” he asks you, heading for the door.

 You don’t answer. Watching him go to get the door. A small boy is behind the door, you cant hear what either of them say as they talk in hushed voices.

 “(y/n),,” he calls you over, “my brother finn here is gonna lead you to the garrison I have a meeting I have to attend to.” He says not leaving you any room to argue to deny his request as he grabs his jacket and locks the door before the two of you.

 “Ill be back soon, try not to run into trouble.” He says.

 You nod and go your separate ways, following the young boy through the streets of Birmingham.

Read pt.11

Tags

@babylooneytoonz @captivatedbycillianmurphy @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @evelyn-4034  @ms-dont-care @owenniasstars

[urimaginespimp]

Michael Gray: Better Man pt 1

Hi all! This is a Michael Gray fic I originially posted on Wattpad, but I’ve decided to also share it now on Tumblr just in case anything would happen to my wattpad account, and to also share it with those who don’t use wattpad. I’ve been on this platform for years but have never made a post of my own so please bear with me. Enjoy! 

Pairing: Michael Gray x Olivia Peterson

--------

It was Thomas and Grace's wedding reception.

The band was playing a tune everyone was familiar with, making most of everybody to go on the dance floor.

Olivia stood on a corner, sipping on a drink while Ada was beside her, rambling about politics. While on other days she does listen with much interest with what the she had to discuss, tonight just didn't feel like an  appropriate place for it, she thought. But nevertheless she didn't stop her dear friend as this was the first time they have seen each other in a while.

The members of the Peaky Blinders came out from wherever Tommy called them in from for a brief meeting.

Olivia scanned through the men, and after a few seconds, there emerged Michael, already looking at her with a smirk on his lips, heading straight towards them.

"Ada! I've missed you." He greeted his cousin with a side hug.

"I've missed you too, Michael. Now do us both a favor and take your girl for a dance before I talk her ear off." Ada replied with a laugh.

Michael chuckled, turning to Olivia, and offered his hand.

They were now both dancing to a slow tune, just looking at each other with a small smile.

Everybody who knew the both of them had an inkling that they'd get together soon enough after weeks of constant flirting and bickering ever since they've met.

And it did happen. The past few months that they've been dating has been nothing but bliss to both of them.

"What did Tommy meet you all for?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"Honestly Livy, I wasn't paying much attention. All I heard was him telling everybody 'No fighting' over and over again, and next thing I knew, a waiter was on the ground, and Arthur threw a carrot on the poor guy."

She let out a laugh. Michael hasn't been a member that long, but he was slowly getting used to everybody. And although he was working only on the legal side of the family business, much to Polly's relief, Olivia knew he wanted to venture more on the side he wasn't allowed in. And Tommy had no problem in welcoming him if he wanted to.

"What do you think of the wedding?" He asked her, sliding his hand from her waist to just above her bottom.

"Honestly, I really like it. This has been the only occasion I've ever been to where we're celebrating something other than business."

Michael smiled sweetly at her. "Meh. I think we can top it.  And we'd appear even later than Tommy and Grace." He teased.

"Well duh, Michael. And knowing you, the guest might even start to wonder if we'd ever show up." She chuckled.

"They can't blame me, Livy. I love you too much." He gave her a long, swooning kiss in the middle of the dance floor.

When they broke off from it, Angel spotted Polly sitting on the dining table next to Lizzie, with a grin on her face.

"Aren't you gonna argue that you love me more?" Michael teased.

And just as she was just about to, she realized that she couldn't move her lips. It felt as though it was sewn shut. Michael was still looking at her expectantly.

She tried and tried and tried but her mouth just wouldn't move.

Michael started looking like he was getting irritated. And it suddenly felt all too familiar. It was the face Michael constantly made during the last few months where she was on the edge of breaking everything off with him. The Michael that started taking her for granted.

And with all her might she tried one last time.

She jolts awake.

Looking at the clock on her bedside table, it was only 4 in the morning. She gets up from her bed and stands in front of her mirror.

She looks better now compared to how she did when she first got here in America two years ago. She's not as skinny, not as pale, and not as stressed. She touched the ends of her hair. It's long again. The first week she got here, in a moment of just pure yearn for self reinvention, she took a pair of scissors and cut it all uneven to a length by her shoulders.

It's been a while since she had dreamt of him. And when she did, it would always start with a happier memory of them and end with Michael just either walking away, ignoring her, them fighting, or him just saying the worst of things.

Just like how it was before she left him.

The last contact she's had with a Shelby was with Thomas. She had called him after hearing about the passing of his wife Grace.

"Where are you, Olivia?" He asked her. She called to send her deepest sympathy but it seemed like he'd rather not talk about it with someone just yet and so she just let it be.

She sighed.

"I'm in America, Tommy."

"And do you have a roof on your head? A job?" Tommy always treated her like a sister, an equal to Ada. They did grow up together under Pol's care.

"I-I'm trying to make ends meet." Her voice was shaking. "I've been renting this small room, although I'm a bit late in paying. But don't worry. I just landed a waitressing job in a small restaurant about a few blocks away."

The other line was silent for a second.

"I know you don't want anyone knowing where you exactly are, but please Livy, let me send you help. I swear never to tell another soul."

She was about to protest when he cut her off.

"Not even Michael."

She was still contemplating.

"Please?" Tommy insisted.

"Okay, Tommy." There was no use in arguing with Thomas Shelby. If she'd refused, he'll probably still end up finding her on his own, anyway.

"Before Grace and I got together again, she stayed in New York. She still has an apartment to her name there. I'll send you the keys and the papers. And quit your job, okay? I'll send you enough to get by for a few months, and another to help you start whatever business you'd like."

And with that, she gave him is address.

Grace's apartment has been what she called home for the past two years. And just a block away from it was where she had her small office. She's become an accounting consultant. With her background in helping in numbers for the Shelby business with Michael, she easily got clients.

"You've gotten a lot better, Olivia." She told herself with a small smile. Sighing, she went back to bed for a few more hours of sleep.

[merakiaes]

All Grown Up - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Sorry if this is really bad, I had a hard time coming up with something good for this request for some reason. It’s not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. I really hope you like it, let me know what you think xx

Wordcount: 2367

Summary: You’re pregnant with Finn’s baby and you’re both very happy with it. The only problem is that he’s still treated as a child by his family and that no one takes your relationship seriously. The only one who does is your best friend, Michael, but he turns out not being such a good secret-keeper as you would have thought.

Exactly one week had passed since you found out that you were pregnant with Finn’s baby.

You had known each other your entire lives and been together romantically from the second you reached your teenage years.

You had lived with your mother for the first thirteen years of your life, right next door to the Shelbys, and had been taken in by them when she passed away in influenza.

Finn and yourself were now twenty years of age and in no way too young to become parents, at least not in theory.

The problem, however? Everyone treated Finn like a literal child and no one took your relationship seriously, only waving it off as a teenage puppy love despite the fact that you had been together since you were twelve, had only been romantic and intimate with each other that entire time and were engaged since three weeks back.

Out of everyone in the entire Shelby clan, Michael was the only one who didn’t treat Finn like a baby and saw that you were both serious about loving each other to the point where you would live the rest of your lives together.

Michael had only stepped into your lives a few years ago, but you had clicked immediately, and grown really close since then.

You were best friends. You told each other everything and whenever one of you would have a problem, you would always confide in the other before talking to anyone else.

And this time was no different, even if it had taken an entire week to gather the courage to speak to him about the matter at hand, with Finn’s approval of course.

You were gathered in the Shelby household for a family meeting. Usually, Esme, Linda, and Lizzie would be present as well, but today it would only be you, Polly, Michael and the Shelby brothers.

While Finn left your side to file into the betting shop with the rest of them, you grabbed a hold of Michael’s arm when he was about to follow, pulling him back slightly.

He looked down at you at that, his eyes instantly filling with worry at the sullen look on your face, practically being able to feel the anxiety radiating off of you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, being sure to keep his voice down so that he wouldn’t alert the others of your conversation in case it was something private, which, in this case, it was.

“I need to talk to you.” You answered quietly, your grip on his arm tightening slightly.

He said nothing more, only nodding his head and leading you into the kitchen for some more privacy. 

Once inside, you sank down in a chair and he followed your example, pulling out a chair in front of you and sitting down, taking your hand in his in an act of comfort.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, staring at you with worry. “Has something happened?”

You could only nod your head, feeling how your hand started clamming up with nervousness. 

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you took a few seconds to think, trying to figure out how you were going to tell him, but soon realized it would just be for the best to come out with it straight away.

You looked up at him, answering quietly. “I’m pregnant.”

“You’re-“ His eyes grew wide with shock and he straightened himself up slightly before a huge smile overcame his boyish features. “That’s great! Congratulations!” He laughed, but his smile soon fell when he realized you weren’t smiling with him.

“Isn’t it great? Does he know?” He asked, turning hesitant, to which your lips tugged into a smile.

“He knows, yes. He was so happy when he found out. It’s amazing. Unbelievable, even.” You told him, shaking your head with a small laugh before turning serious again. “I just… I worry about what your mum and cousins are going to say. You know how they are, and we’ve already decided to keep it, there was no doubt in our minds about it. But their opinion and support still mean the world to us. To him, especially.”

Michael looked at you in understanding. “I’m honored you trusted me enough to tell me. I’ll support you in any way I can. Your secret is safe with me until you feel ready to tell them and when that time comes, I’ll be there and back you up if you need me.”

Your lips tugged into a smile, tears out of a mixture of happiness, gratitude, and anxiety stinging your eyes. You nodded your head. “Thank you, Michael. I’m lucky to have you as my friend.”

He smiled, squeezed your hand and then stood up, wordlessly leading you into the room where the rest of them were gathered, their heads looking up at the sight of you.

“There you are.” Polly spoke from her seat.

Michael wasted no time in leaving your side and going over to where his mom was sitting, sliding into the seat next to her and grabbing the glass of whiskey she had saved for him, while you moved over to where Finn was sitting, getting into the chair next to him.

He instantly put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side.

“Alright, now that everyone that should be here is here, let’s get down to business,” Tommy said, bringing out the last empty glass and giving you a questioning look. “(Y/N)? Whiskey?”

You glanced around the table, seeing that everyone but you, Finn included, had a glass either in their hand or in front of them, and nodded with a small smile, getting comfortable under Finn’s arm. “Sure, thank you.” You accepted.

He started pouring the golden liquid into the crystal glass, but before he had even filled it up halfway, Michael’s voice cut through the air.

“You shouldn’t. I’ve read that alcohol isn’t good for the baby.”

Your blood turned cold in your veins at his words and Finn froze beside you. Your head snapped towards Michael, seeing his eyes growing wide with realization and regret the second the words passed his lips.

“God damn it, Michael!” You exclaimed loudly, frustration and anxiety bubbling up inside of you as everyone had now frozen in their spots and turned to look at you and Finn.

“Baby?” John was the first to ask after a moment of silence. “What fookin’ baby?”

Tommy sat up straighter in his chair, looking at you from across the table. “What’s he talking about, (Y/N)?” He turned to Finn, now having forgotten all about your drink. “Finn?”

Neither of you said anything, only exchanging a hesitant glance.

“Are you pregnant?” Polly demanded from where she sat, eyes hard and stern, and causing you to swallow thickly as you nodded.

“We were hoping to find a more convenient time and way to tell you but yes, I’m pregnant.” You confirmed, and almost immediately, they all started showing their disappointment in one way or another.

“How long have you known?”

You shared a glance with Finn before answering. “A week.”

“A week?” Polly scoffed in disappointment. “And you haven’t told us?”

“We didn’t know how to.” Finn finally joined the conversation, holding your hand comfortingly in your lap, away from everyone’s eyes, and glaring at pretty much everyone around the table. “We knew you would disapprove.”

Arthur snorted, speaking up for the first time. “Of course we fookin’ disapprove. You’re not old enough to have a baby.”

Finn turned his glare to him, eyes squinting in anger. “John was seventeen when he got Martha knocked up for the first time.” He pointed out, but Arthur only glared back.

“He was ready. You’re not.”

You could feel the anger getting more intense by the second inside of you. “How is that fair?” You exclaimed, Finn exclaiming right afterward.

“I’m tired of you always treating me like I’m still a child!”

“You are still a child.” John pointed out, and that really got you going, having you standing up from your chair with such force it fell to the floor behind you.

“Okay, so Finn didn’t go to war!” You exclaimed, throwing your arms out in exasperation, glaring at all of them – but most of all his brothers. “He hasn’t seen the things you’ve seen. But just because you have a different outlook on life and things, in general, doesn’t make him immature. I know for a fact that you don’t want him to be like you, that you want him to be better, so why are you always treating him like he’s ten years old when he’s doing just that?”

Finn grabbed your hand in thanks and in an attempt to calm you down but remained seated, too angry to move a muscle. Michael, however, much to everyone’s surprise, took a stand, nodding his head in agreement with you.

“She’s right, Tommy.” He said, looking at his cousin before looking around the table. “It’s time you start treating them like adults. Because that’s what they are. If they weren’t, they wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place.”

Only when Michael came to your defense did Polly actually realize that he was right, her stern facial expression slowly softening as she turned to look at you, eyes now much gentler. “No matter what anyone thinks, no one can make the decision but the two of you.”

“We’re not getting rid of it if that’s the decision you’re referring to.” Finn instantly spoke back in a defensive tone, glaring at his aunt in all his angry glory. “We’re keeping it, with or without your support.”

Polly remained calm, nodding her head and taking a drag out of the cigarette hanging from in between her fingers. “We will support you, whatever you do.” She said. “We’re so used to taking care of you I guess we just haven’t wanted to admit to ourselves that you’ve grown up and become your own man.”

She was talking to only Finn now and you knew her well enough to know she considered Finn as her own child as she had been the one to raise him from the very same day he was born, and that she understood quicker than the others because she, herself, had been in the exact same position that you were in right now – pregnant, scared and with everyone she loved against her.

Her words seemed to have gotten everyone’s brain gears spinning and when they all turned quiet, deep in their own thoughts, you allowed yourself to sit back down, Finn now having brought your chair back up from the floor.

When you sat down, so did Michael, and as no one was arguing or going against you anymore, you felt Finn relax significantly beside you.

For a good minute, the only sound that could be heard was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint sound of the crackling fire from the room next doors.

But soon enough, Tommy broke out of his thoughtful state and raised his glass of whiskey to his lips, tossing the rest of his drink back before slamming the glass back down and speaking, now with a much softer voice.

“If you say you’re ready to be parents, then I take your word for it.” He spoke slowly. “We will help you in any way we can. We’ll stick together like we always do.”

He clearly still wasn’t happy about the fact that you were pregnant, but he seemed to have accepted it now after Polly had given her opinion on it.

You and Finn nodded your head in thanks at him and another thick silence fell over you, this time almost unbearable. But you didn’t seem to be the only one who couldn’t stand it, as Arthur soon stood up from his seat, cutting the silence short.

He threw his arms out and started approaching you. 

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.” He laughed, and you and Finn stood up to accept his embrace, a smile automatically rising to your face as you realized the worst part was over and that everyone would be able to be happy and get along again.

Once Arthur had hugged you, everyone else got to their feet too, all getting their turn at hugging and congratulating you.

Michael was last, coming over and hugging you in congratulations despite the fact that he had already known. 

He squeezed you tight and you squeezed him back. “I’m sorry I ruined it.” He mumbled into your hair, clearly guilty that he had let it slip.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. You had been to a start, yes, but now you knew he had only been looking out for you and your unborn baby’s best interest.

“That’s alright.” You assured him. “You didn’t ruin anything. It would have come out eventually, anyway. It was probably for the best it happened like this.”

You pulled apart and he gave you a wide smile, one that reached all the way up to his eyes, that held nothing but sincerity. “You’ll make an amazing mother, (Y/N).” He said, and your smile instantly widened.

“Thank you, Michael.” You answered, nodding in gratitude.

He then turned to Finn, his youngest cousin, and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. 

“And you as well, Finn.” He nodded, looking between the two of you. “You’ll be great parents. I know you will. And so do they, they just have to come to terms with the fact that you aren’t children yourselves, anymore.”

He nodded his head towards the others who were now conversing among themselves at the table again, having gone back to the business at hand that had been forgotten during the conflict. 

And true to Michael’s words, they did.

It took a while for them to wrap their heads around the fact that their soft little brother was going to be a father, but eventually, they did, and when the day of your daughter’s birth came around, they finally came to the realization when they got to see it with their own eyes, that you were both all grown up and ready to go live your own lives. As adults.

[nightwingshero]

👊 + Wren? and 👊 + Dahlia?

Under the cut because Dahlia’s got long....I’m so sorry

⤐ More Here

⤐ Joseph Seed: Wren doesn’t fully agree, or even believe, in what he’s doing. That’s not at all why she even joins. He’s manipulative, treats Whitney like shit, and is just...creepy and passive aggressive. If it wasn’t for what happened between her and John, she wouldn’t have hesitated in taking his ass down, but it just...became complicated. Also, Joseph killed his own daughter, and had the audacity to claim him and Wren were the same, so...yeah, there’s major hatred there for him. 

⤐ Jacob Seed: She hates being in enclosed spaces, she’s claustrophobic, and she absolutely despises cages and brainwashing. Him also killing and eating someone totally puts her off, she doesn’t ever forget that. And him doing that to her and Rowan? Hell no. She’s not about that life. 

⤐ Tracey: She just doesn’t like the chip on her shoulder, is all. Wren doesn’t appreciate the attitude, and with her being exhausted, stressed, and completely filled with the panic and anxiety from being thrown headfirst into a fucking warzone...she has zero patience and was tempted to swing. But she didn’t and she got over it since Tracey got a bit better after that. 

⤐ Fuckin’ Linda: Dahlia...can’t...fucking...stand her. AT ALL. Think Grace and Polly, and that’s Dahlia and Linda, except its worse. Dahlia has actually threatened Linda, and being married to Arthur (with Tommy being Tommy) is the only reason she hasn’t had her ass handed to her. 

⤐ Grace; She honestly liked her in the beginning, although she knew that Grace was lying about her past. She didn’t care about that though, Dahlia understands what it’s like to not want any part of your past. It was giving Tommy up that burned that bridge. Dahlia is very much like Polly, having her as a mom figure after hers died when she was young. So it’s not shocking that she’s just as protective and cutthroat. 

⤐ Esme Shelby: So...I know this looks bad because it’s literally the three wives...listen, she absolutely adores Lizzie, okay? This only happened once or twice, she normally gets along great with Esme. But when Esme was wanting to leave and run, and attempted to talk Tommy into it, Dahlia didn’t appreciate it. She also kinda laughed about the chickens thing during a family meeting. But the biggest one was when John died, with how she treated Arthur and Tommy. But despite that, she helped Esme leave with the kids, understanding that she’s a mother and Dahlia didn’t want anything to happen to the kids either. 

⤐ Tatiana: Dahlia doesn’t trust her and she didn’t like her influence on Tommy, but it was the interactions with Alfie that really fucking pushed it. The disrespect towards him and the little exchange Tatiana has in front of Dahlia when they were leaving had Dahlia actually grab Tatiana by the face. Dahlia can be catty (as I’m sure you’ve picked up on), but honestly...she’s very protective and isn’t afraid to throw hands. The girl can fight, look who she grew up with. Tatiana crossed a line, and she makes damn sure Tatiana is aware of it.  

⤐ Luca Changretta: Not only did he kill her cousin, but he had the audacity to snatch her and use her as leverage to convince Alfie to help him kill Tommy. Which, she believed that Alfie wouldn’t go through with it, not really. She thought he had done it just to get Luca off his back and that maybe his love for her would be enough to spare her family. It wasn’t, but her anger and grief is more focused towards Luca because that’s the immediate threat. (She thinks that she’ll deal with the fallout of her new husband after....yikes). 

⤐ Tommy Shelby: Dahlia is loyal to Tommy, she has always stood by Tomy even when she didn’t agree with him (and it made things hard with her and Alfie), and she pleads for Alfie’s life after Luca is dealt with. When he pays no mind, Dahlia is distraught, heartbroken, and furious. She never asked Tommy for anything, and the one thing she does ask for...he ignores. It’s worse when she finds out she’s pregnant, and she gets caught up in blaming him for Rosie having to grow up without a father. They do make up, and she lives with him and Lizzie to help around the house, but that becomes strained when Mosley enters the picture.

⤐ Alfie Solomons: He betrayed Tommy one too many times and then has the audacity to fake his death and never let her know he’s still alive. Granted, he didn’t know about Rosie until a few months before Dahlia finds out Alfie is alive. But she’s so upset, she’s tempted to punch him on his blindside, just to be a dick, but in all honesty, she’s just happy to have him back. 

[psycheswritings]

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Eleven

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, angst and mentions of death and war.

Word Count: 6018 (I know and I am sorry)

Author’s Note: Here we go again with another update. Hope you are all well and safe with this whole pandemic thing. Take care of yourselves and the people around you.

Not much to say about this chapter, so I am just going to show my gratitude towards @internalmess3​ for being so kind and sweet and supporting me through the process of writing this chapter - you're incredible and I am so grateful to you! Thanks for everyone, EVERY SINGLE SOUL, who has been reading this fic and commenting/leaving likes. Seriously, that's what makes me keep writing and I LOVE to read your thougths about the plot and the characthers. Don't feel shy in coming talk to me.

You know the drill, if you find any mistakes feel free to report it back to me. Tags are at the end of the post and if you want to be added, let me know. Your feedback is highly appreciated. Happy reading.

WARNING: this fic (as most part of my works) is also been posted on FF and AO3.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy meets Campbell to talk about the plans to kill the Field Marshall while Daphne is trying to adpat herself to living alone. She and William take a walk down memory lane, rememoring how they met and Tommy pays her a visit. The Brummie gangster negotiates with Alfie and they both end up discussing their feelings for Daphne.

Eleven

Tommy had told Lizzie to let Campbell into his office at the pretense that he was parking his car. It was the first time they would meet after his plan to make the Field Marshall leave his house got into work and he wanted to take the Irishman out of guard - and so he did.

“I keep everything locked up, Mr. Campbell. Everything of value.” Campbell looked up at him as he closed the door, a little more forcibly than necessary, on purpose. The man was rummaging through his desk and by the look on his face he certainly wasn’t expecting being caught. Tommy hang his coat, clearing his throat before walking towards the desk. “Take a seat.”

“How is your company treasurer, Polly?” The Irishman asked as he bypasses the desk to stand in the opposite side from Tommy.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh. Just give her my regards.” Tommy finds the questioning odd but decides to brush it off as he searches for his cigar case, taking one and lightening it. “Ah! You like to play with fire, don't you, Mr. Shelby? Yesterday, in Belgravia, Field Marshall Russell's house was burnt out. An incendiary device was put through his letter box. Which means that he will have to find somewhere else to live for at least the next three months.”

“Which also means that your plan for me to break in and shoot him in his bed is no longer an operational possibility.” Tommy states what they both already know, calmly, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Indeed, but if you think a wee burn frees you from your obligations, think again…”

“I will keep my side of the bargain.”

“Oh, by God, you will.”

“I will shoot your Field Marshal. But I will do it in a way that serves my purpose.” Campbell is still standing in front of him, both hands holding the cane, clearly riled up by the change of plans.

“The only purpose is my purpose.”

“I will carry out the assassination at a place of my choosing.” The Irishman takes a step towards the desk as he speaks.

“Listen to me. All operational detail must be mutually agreed…”

“I am a soldier of experience and I will determine where and when…”

“Now, that man has twenty-four-hour armed police protection…”

“Your plan was full of holes, Mr. Campbell.”

“My plan was mutually agreed!”

“And now your plan is up in smoke! And I have formulated the only viable alternative.”

“For God's sake. What do you mean? How would you get to him?” Tommy takes a drag from his cigarette, taking his time to answer.

“I won't. He'll come to me.”

“Now listen to me, Mr. Shelby. When this meeting is concluded I must report directly to Mr. Winston Churchill.”

“Your relationship with Mr. Churchill is not my concern.” The Brummie answers nonchalantly.

“And Mr. Winston Churchill will need to hear details.”

“Well, you tell him he'll have to trust me.” They glare at each other for a second, then Tommy speaks again. “Look, Mr. Campbell, I will carry out my mission.”

“Good.”

“Good. But I will do it in a place where it will be impossible for you or your men to have me shot afterwards.” Campbell shifts in his place. “Because that was your plan, eh? Coopers front and back. No way out. Me shot dead, dumped in the Thames. I will do the killing, but in a place where that will not be an option.”

“Where and when?”

“Epsom. Derby day.”

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After one week of living in the hotel Daphne decides to rent a flat. It’s the logical thing to do, she thinks to herself, so she can have more privacy and start doing things her way. Her relationship with Alfie was still strained and they were sticking to talk just about business because every time the topic changed they ended up fighting and it seemed that the both of them were tired of it. William and Harriet helped her accommodate in the new place.

She had been avoiding to talk about certain topics with Harriet because she knew how the woman was caught in the crossfire and a part of her, the one who still cared for Alfie, wanted him to have some sort of support system because if she knew him well enough, he was most certainly trying to pretend that everything was fine. Ada was out of town - they have talked over the phone and the Shelby sister assured Daphne that everything was alright between them - so she was relaying on the last person she had left - William.

Since their conversation at the hotel, their first one after she had left Alfie’s house, Daphne had been thinking about the things he said to her. She had been able to avoid the specific topic of her relationship with Tommy on the occasion but she was sure that it was just a matter of time until it come up again. Truth be told, she wasn’t even sure if they had a relationship of any sort because they never really talked about it. Actually, the last time they had seen each other the last thing they did was talk about anything.

“How’s Jane?” She was facing away from him, making tea for the both of them as he adjusted himself on the spare armchair by the fireplace. The flat was not big, everything was in the same room basically - her bed near the window, a little bedside table, a modest wardrobe and a dresser near the fireplace, two armchairs and a center table. There was a nice bathroom and a small kitchen just beside.

“Fine. They are getting used to things there but are happy together. She send you lots of love.” Daphne gave him the teacup and goes back to take her own before getting comfortable on her own armchair.

“Send my love to her when you write to her again.” They fell into a comfortable silence until he asked her.

“Have you talked to Thomas?” She averted his gaze, sinking into the chair.

“Will…”

“You've been avoiding the topic since the night we talked in the hotel.” Daphne was really hoping that her acting had been on point for him not to notice, but she was just so tired that it wasn’t all that surprising that she slipped onto her act. “He likes you.” Her hazel eyes searched for his blue ones and he laughed at her expression. “What? Did you really think I wouldn't notice?”

“I really hoped I wouldn’t have to talk to you about it.” She exhaled loudly, taking a sip of her tea and William takes a moment to observe her: she is looking to the fire, he knows it is because she doesn't want to look at him, her cheeks are still rosy from the cold, her fingers playing mindlessly with the hem of her dress, her legs tucked under her. It was easy to fall in love with her, he knew that more than anyone.

“Well, unfortunately for you, I am your better option right now.” Daphne looks at him again, sees his playful smile and sighs.

“We could always not talk about it.” William raises an eyebrow at her.

“Not an option.” He waits, patiently, as he always does, for her to get comfortable enough to talk. Sometimes, William wonders why she always seemed more willing to share things with him than with Harriet, for example, or even with his sister. Most women didn’t like to confide in a man like that. He should know better though, because Daphne was nothing but unusual in a lot of things.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You're redirecting.” He scolded her and she laughed, sitting up straighter to face him better.

“I am not, I promise.” Daphne had already accepted her defeat because she knew he wasn’t going to give up, but she wanted to make him understand somethings that had been on her mind lately. Somethings that were very important for their relationship. William drank the rest of his tea, putting the teacup into the table and getting comfortable on his chair as he took a deep breath.

“I remember that you gave me quite a scold.” He smiled looking at her to see that she was doing the same. “We fought over what was the best way to treat a patient and you were so damn stubborn, standing there, hands on your hips, holding your ground and defending your opinion so fiercely.”

“I was right.” There was a smug look on her face and he just shook his head in annoyance.

“You were and even so Dr. Lewis choose to believe in me.” Daphne rolled her eyes and William smiled. He knew that she never really liked the old doctor.

“Of course he did. The man worshiped the ground you walked on just because you are a man.” She rolled her eyes before continuing. “And you were a prick just alright.”

“I was. Smug little thing, fresh out of college, I thought I knew better about everything and I certainly wasn’t looking for being proven wrong by a young nurse on my first day.” She remembered that, he was the talk of the hospital that morning and for the following days - the young hot doctor who had just arrived to help Dr. Lewis. Daphne had been there for almost a month, things had been going as smoothly as they could be but her mood was sour due to being away from her brother for so long.

At first, she had been excited about the new addition to the personnel, after all, all help was welcome - that is until she actually met William. She was treating a soldier with a severe injury and Dr. Lewis brought him to give his opinion on it. The first thing she noticed was how handsome he was and how young he looked but the niceties stopped there, because next thing they were arguing about the right treatment to apply and things just went down after that.

“You actually searched for me to try and convince me that your plan was better than mine.”

“And you snapped at me right away. I don’t think I had ever fought with a nurse before but you were having none of my shit.”

“You were used to just bat those eyelashes at them and have your way out of the discussion, weren’t you?” She smirked at him and William put his hand in front of his face, sighing. “Oh, sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me that. I am pretty sure that all the nurses thought I was crazy for fighting you that day. I certainly received lots of death glares on the corridors for weeks.”

“Matron certainly didn’t agreed with that because she gave me a hard time until we made amends.” William still remembers how much the older woman made his life difficult on the weeks right after his arrival.

“Harriet wouldn’t shut up about you and how I should give you a chance because you were ‘oh, so nice and gentle’.” She feigned an affected voice, then paused for a second looking directly at him. “And how I was going to fall for you if I did open up. I think I did, for a while.”

“Daph…”

“No, I have to say it for both our sakes.” They looked at each other for a long moment before she continued. “We never really talked about why I couldn’t stay with you and sometimes I feel selfish for keeping you around.”

“Then we both are being selfish because I didn’t wanted to lose you either.” She takes a deep breath, gets up from her seat collecting the teacups and walks to the kitchen, gets the bottle of whiskey from the counter along with two glasses and goes back to where he is, pouring them both a dose, offering one of the glasses to him and then getting comfortable on the armchair again. Daphne took a sip of the amber liquid, relishing on the way it burned her throat as she observed the fire crackling.

“I really fell for you at the time, you know.” Her voice was firm, as if she was trying to reassure herself and him at the same time.

“I know. You are good at pretending but not that much.” They smiled at each other and stayed in silence for a moment.

“And I really wish that things could have been different, that we could have gotten a better chance but you were right when you said that I didn’t wanted to live after Benjamin died. I just never let myself acknowledge that.”

“Nobody can blame you for that. I don’t blame you for that. After we came back, every time I saw Jane I thanked God for her being safe and remembered how you must feel everyday because of him.”

“I’m sorry for shutting you out and not giving us a chance. Most part of the time I am sorry for not letting you go.”

“It wasn’t your choice. Not entirely at least. I stayed because I love you and between being in your life as a friend or nothing at all I would always choose to stay. We already talked about that.” They did, in fact, when Daphne told him they couldn’t be together anymore, not as a couple, he had asked her if she wanted him to leave her life completely even if it would’ve been impossible at the time because they were serving at the same place. But she haven’t wanted him gone back then and she still didn’t want him gone now.

“I just don’t understand how I couldn’t love you the way you loved me back then but I can fall in love with another person now. It just doesn’t make sense and…”

“Hey, hey, hey. Stop that!” He kneeled in front of her, taking the glass of whiskey half drank from her hands and resting it on the table, holding both her hands in his, forcing her to look at him. “Love is not rational, Daph. I know we try to find some explanation, a reason for it but it doesn’t exist. We don’t choose who we love or in what moment we love them.”

“We could have been good together.”

“We are good together.” He smiled at her and squeezed her hand. “Just because we are not together as a couple it doesn't mean we don’t have a good relationship. We’ve been supporting each other all these years, you can’t say to me that this is not a good thing.”

“It is. You’re one of my best friends, always will be.” She smiled at him, remembering all the times he had been there for her. There was no denying how important he was in her life. William would always be a huge part of her history.

“Then talk to me. Don’t push me out because you think you’ll hurt me. I will say to you if something is too much but let me help you.”

“I don’t know what to say. Really.” Daphne sighed as she sank into the chair and William adjusted himself on the ground right in front of her. “The way I feel about Tommy is… different. He makes me feel things that I had never felt before. Things I didn’t wanted to know about.”

“Well, you’ve been avoiding it for years now, I really wouldn’t expect nothing less.”

“He’s everything I didn’t wanted for my life.” Problem, that’s what he was. A big, huge problem. William laughed and Daphne gave him a not so playful slap on the arm.

“Maybe he is exactly what you need him to be even if you haven’t realized it yet.” She looked at him, half closed eyes, a smirk on her lips.

“When did you got this wise?”

“You’ve been rubbing off on me.” William smiled at her and Daphne felt the urge to hug him, so she did, sliping from the armchair to sit on the ground with him.

“Why couldn’t I have stayed in love with you? Life would be a lot simpler.”

“That’s the thing, life is never simple.” The moment is interrupted by a knock on the door, so Daphne gets up to answer it and she has a hard time coming into terms with the person standing in front of her.

“Thomas?” William looks at the door after hearing the name, his eyes meting Tommy’s for a moment before he got up from the ground.

“Hope I am not interrupting anything.” His voice was devoid of emotion but Daphne notices the hint of displeasure on his face. William was faster than her to answer.

“No. I was heading out, already.” He was putting his coat on and heading to the door. “Mr. Shelby.” They shook hands briefly and the doctor turned to face her. “You’ll gonna be alright?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and he got closer, giving her a kiss on the check before heading out.

“See you tomorrow then.” Tommy takes a step to the side, giving space for him to get out of the flat. “Mr. Shelby.” The two men nod at each other and the gangster observes as William walks down the stairs before looking up at Daphne, who was observing him. After a moment of silence he asked.

“May I come in?” She stepped out of his way, opening the door more for him to enter. Tommy looked around, analysing the small space, noticing how it looked cozy, much like her. Daphne closed the door and walked towards the little table near the fireplace, taking both glasses laying there and walking to the small kitchen.

“Do you want tea? Or whiskey?” She turned to look at him and he just shook his head, denying her offer, stuffing his cap on one of his pockets.

“No, I am fine.” Neither of them said nothing for a long while. “Did you knew?” They both knew the answer to that and Tommy didn’t fail to notice the offended look on her face.

“Of course not.”

“Then that night, at Charles’s wedding, it wasn't just a way to distract me.” The look she gave him hit him harder than any slap he ever received and, for a moment, he almost regrets asking it, but after Grace he just had to be sure that what he was feeling for her wasn’t just one more thing that Solomons’s could use against him and his family.

“If you thought even for a moment that I would sell myself for something as simple as a decoy you’re clearly underestimating me.” Tommy isn’t accustomed to being held accountable by the things he says and when he does, he usually doesn’t care about what people feel about it. So it actually gets him by surprise how he always seems to find enticing the way Daphne always gets back at him for the things he says.

“You can’t really blame me, can you?” He walks to her, slow and deliberate, leaving her time to back off, which she doesn’t. When they are a breath apart, his cold fingers trace the skin below her neck and then lower, getting hold of the ever present pendant hanging on her neck. He pulls the locket out of the chancel of her dress, feeling the metal against his fingers and this time, different from the night of her birthday, he opens it. As he expected, there are two photographs there - a girl and a boy. “You’ve been hiding a lot of secrets, Senior Sister Scott.”

“Am not the only one, Sergeant Major Shelby.” All he wants to do is to close the distance between them and kiss her, like he had done at the library of the Weston’s house. Give in to desire and press her against the wall, have her right there, but there is something that holds him back. “My past is none of your concern.”

“Your past, your present, your future… I want them all to be of my concern.” The way she looks at him with half closed eyelids should be illegal and Tommy has to take a moment to put his thoughts on check again. “He is the reason why you said I couldn’t make you want things you can’t have?”

“Thomas…” Daphne closes her eyes, feeling trapped in his presence, she doesn’t think that she can talk about Benjamim with him, not yet.

“Because you don’t want to live without him.”

“Tom…”

“You think you don’t deserve to have a life without your twin.” Her hazel eyes focus on his blue ones, hands searching for support on his chest as Tommy holds her to him with his free hand.

“You know nothing about that.”

“I know enough.” She tries to walk away from him, but he is faster than her, releasing the open locket and holding her by the arms, keeping her close, forcing her to face him. “‘Can’t imagine the pain you feel.” Daphne’s resolution falters for a moment, her breath coming fast as if she had runned a mile, she feels her chest tightens as she tries to remembers the last time that she had let herself really feel the grieve.

“He was more than my brother, he was everything.” Her eyes close for a moment and the memories cloud her mind and she relieves all the times they skipped the music classes so they could run through the gardens, searching for a good spot to hide between the trees. How they always sneaked into each others rooms at night so they didn’t had to sleep alone. The way he always seemed to know what she was thinking before herself. Daphne searches for the locket, closing it and holding it between her fingers as she rests her forehead into Tommy’s shoulder, his hands travelling to her waist as they sway from side to side for a long moment.

“Why did you stayed with Alfie?” Daphne thinks for a moment but she already knows the answer, she has knew it for a long time.

“Because it was comfortable.”

“And I am not, so that’s why you’re fighting this.” She doesn’t answer, it’s not needed, they both know it’s the truth. The woman raises her head, looking at him again.

“Why are you fighting this?” There is a long pause where the only thing they hear is the crackling of the fire and the noises of the city outside.

“Because you deserve better than me.” Daphne sees nothing but truth in his ice cold blues.

“I think that is for me to decide.” And decide she does, standing on her tiptoes and closing the gap between them in a gentle kiss. As their lips move together all that Tommy can think about is how much he doesn’t deserve the woman in his arms. In that moment he too makes a decision, a decision that could change everything.

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“Did you one anyway, you ignorant git.” He doesn’t notice that Ada had entered the room until she places the cup of tea almost in front of him, turning to leave. That is the moment that Tommy raises his eyes from the paper in front of him.

“Ada, sit down here for a minute.” She does as he asks while he folds the letter and puts it on the envelope, linking it to seal. “Ada, if anything happens to me today, I need you to post this letter. The stamps already on. Don't ask any questions. It's…” He pauses for a moment as he takes the cigarette from the ashtray. “...to do with insurance.” Ada looks at him, a little disturbed by the information, picking the envelope from the table.

“Look, Tommy? Whatever it is you're involved in, just tell us. God, you never let anybody in. We love you, Tom.” His eyes search for hers in the moment and Ada seems to be in an internal battle to choose her next words so he picks the other envelope and holds it between them.

“This one you can hand over yourself.” Tommy sees the curiosity in her eyes turn into worry when she sees the name outside the envelope.

“What are you going to do, Tommy?” James enters the room and Tommy gets up, walking to the couch to pick his coat. “What are you doing up at six o'clock in the morning?”

“Ready?” He asks the young writer that nods at him.

“What the bloody hell's going on?” Ada asks, voice an octave higher.

“Little errand.” James answers her.

“What errand?”

“He just has to stand there, Ada.” Tommy adds as he picks his things..

“Stand where?”

“Let's go. Come on.” The older Shelby calls and James follows him out of the room, Ada a little behind them, talking exasperatedly.

��James, what's going on? Don't listen to him, James, he'll get you killed! What errand?”

“For the cause, Ada. The good old cause.” The young writer tells her as he and Tommy walk out the door. The two men walk the streets towards Camden Town and when they are approaching Alfie’s bakery Tommy says. 

“For the next ten minutes, you don't do or say anything I haven't told you. All right?” Met with silence he asks again. “All right?” James confirms it just before they reach the doors.

“Hello, Ollie.” Tommy greets the young man as he heads to the door.

“Hang on. Just you, yeah? He stays out here.” Ollie admonishes and Tommy turns to James, pointing at him with his index finger and then at the ground, throwing his cigarette away as he does.

“You stay here.” The young writer stands there, looking around a little apprehensive, as Tommy follows Ollie inside. He stops, pretending to tie his shoe much to the annoyance of the young man, before they continue to Alfie’s office. The Jew barely acknowledges him as they enter the room - feet propped up on the desk, leaning back on his chair reading the paper - and Tommy takes a seat in front of him. He just talks when the phone starts ringing.

“That'll probably be for you, won't it?” Tommy gets up to answer the call.

“Hello? Arthur. You're out?” When the call is finished and Tommy sits back on the chair, Alfie straightens himself to look at the Brummie.

“Right, so that'll be your side of the street swept up, won't it? Where's mine? What you got for me?” Tommy takes the license from his suitcase and hands 

“Signed by the Minister of the Empire himself.”

“Yeah?”

“Which means that you can put your rum in our shipments and no-one at Poplar Docks will lift a canvas.”

“You know what? I'm not even going to have my lawyer look at that.”

“No, no, it is all legal.”

“You know what, mate? I trust you. That is that. Done.” He straightens his hat and then turns to pick a bottle of whiskey. “So, whisky. There is one thing, though, however, that we do need to discuss.”

“What would that be?” Tommy asks, taking a drag of his cigarette as Alfie places the bottle on the desk, holding his glasses to his eyes and analysing the contract.

“It says here twenty percent paid to me of your export business.”

“As we agreed on the telephone.”

“No, no, no, no. See, I had my lawyer draw this up for us, just in case.” He places the new contract, that he just got from the drawer, right in front of Tommy, leaning on the desk to show it to the other man. “It says that here, that a hundred percent of your business goes to me.” 

“I see.”

“Just there Don't worry about it, right. Cos it is totally legal, binding. All you have to do is sign the document and transfer the whole lot over to me.” Alfie reclines himself back on his chair, waiting for Tommy to sign the contract.

“Sign just here, is it?” The Brummie asks, calmly.

“Yeah.”

“I see. That's funny, that is.” Tommy says, taking a drag from his cigarette and pointing at the paper in front of him.

“What?” The Jew asks, confused.

“No, that's funny. I'll give you a hundred percent of my business?” 

“Yeah!”

“Why?” Ollie, who had been standing there, fidgeting more than usual, points a gun towards Tommy, who looks at him unamused.

“Ollie, no. No. No. Ollie, no. Put that down.” Alfie takes the gun from Ollie’s hands and places it on the desk, as the younger man retreats to the background. “He understands. He understands. He's a big boy, he knows the road. Now, look, it's just non-fucking-negotiable. That is all you need to know, so all you have to do is sign the fucking contract. Right there.” The Jewish gangster taps with his finger where Tommy is supposed to sign.

“Just sign here.” Tommy says, before stubbing the cigarette on the ashtray.

“With your pen.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Get on with it.” Alfie encourages when the other gangster does nothing.

“I have an associate waiting for me at the door. I know, he looks like a choirboy but he is actually an anarchist from Kentish Town.”

“Tommy, I am going to fucking shoot you.”

“Right? Now, when I came in here, Mr. Solomons, I stopped to tie my shoelace Isn't that a fact, Ollie?” He looks at the younger man and then at Alfie again. “I stopped to tie my shoelace. And while I was doing it, I laid a hand grenade under one of your barrels. A mark fifteen with wire trip. My friend upstairs is like one of those anarchists that blew up Wall Street, you know? He's a professional. And he's in charge of the wire. If I don't walk out of that door by the stroke of seven, he's going to trigger the grenade and your very combustible rum will blow us all to hell. And I don't care ‘cos I am already dead.” Alfie scratches his beard, holding his glasses and analysing Tommy for a moment.

“He tied his lace, Alfie. And there is a kid at the door.” Ollie confirms.

“From a good family, too. Ollie, it is shocking what they become.” The Brummie remarks.

“What were you doing when this happened?” Alfie turns to face Ollie.

“He tied his lace. Nothing else.”

“Yeah. But what were you doing?”

“Marking the runners in the paper.” The young man seems embarrassed. There is a little noise of metal and Alfie turns to see Tommy with his pocket watch in hand.

“What are you doing?”

“Just checking the time. Carry on.” The Brummie show a hint of a smirk on his face. The Jew gangster takes the gun from the desk and hands it to his associate.

“Ollie, I want you to go outside and shoot that boy in the face from the good family.”

“Anyone walks through that door except me, he blows the grenade.” Tommy explains.

“He tied his fucking lace, Alfie.” Ollie becomes nervous by the second.

“I did tie my lace.”

“I bet hundred to one that you're fucking lying, mate. That's my money.” Alfie plays with the gun that he took away from Ollie’s hand.

“Well, you see, you have failed to consider the form. I did blow up my own pub for the insurance.”

“OK, right, well, considering the form, I would say, sixty five to one. Very good odds. And I would be more than happy and agree for you to sign over sixty five percent of your business to me. Thank you.”

“Sixty five? No deal.” Tommy looks at the younger man. “Ollie, what do you say?”

“Jesus Christ, Alfie. He tied his fucking lace. I saw him. Look, he planted a grenade. I know he did. Alfie, it is Tommy fucking Shelby.” Alfie gets up and hits Ollie in the face, holding him by the collar of his shirt.

“You are behaving like a fucking child. This is a man's world. Now, get that apron off and sit in the corner like a little boy. Fuck off. Now!” As Ollie does what he is told, Alfie checks his pocket watch and sits again.

“Four minutes.” Tommy says

“Right, four minutes. Talk to me about hand grenades.”

“The chalk mark on the barrel at knee height said, "Hamilton Christmas". I took out the pin and put it on the wire.” Tommy spins the pin between his fingers before putting it on the empty glass sitting on the desk. Alfie takes it to inspect.

“Based on this…” The Jew shows the pin to Tommy. “...forty five percent.”

“Thirty.”

“Aw, fuck off, Tommy. That's far too little.” He throws the pin at Tommy, who picks it up and starts to play with it.

“In France, Mr Solomons, when I was a tunneller. A clay kicker. A 1-7-9. I blew up Schwaben Hohe. Same kit I'm using today.”

“Funny that. I do know the 1-7-9 and I heard they all got buried.”

“Three of us dug ourselves out.”

“Like you're digging yourself out now.”

“Like I'm digging now.”

“Fuck me!” Alfie whispers, leaning into his chair. “Listen, I'll give you thirty five. That's your lot.” Tommy thinks for a moment.

“Thirty five.” Alfie spits on his hand, gettin up and offering it to Tommy, who does the same.

“Now you go out there, send the good boy from the good family home, and come back here, because we have other business to discuss.” Tommy nods, goes outside and sends James back home, when he comes back Alfie is alone in the office. He closes the door behind him, sitting down on the same chair he was some minutes ago. The both men contemplate the silence for a few minutes, the Jew is looking out to the window. “You probably already know about Benjamin, don’t you? ‘Know you’ve been doing your research on us for a while.”

“I do.”

“Do you know what he meant to her?” Alfie turns to face Tommy, elbows resting on the desk as he intertwined his fingers in front of him.

“I know he was her twin, yes.”

“He was more than that. They were everything for each other. I knew him. The boy served under my command til the day he died. Wouldn’t fucking shut up about her any chance he got. When I finally met Daphne it was as if I already knew her.” He remembers, clear as day, her hazel eyes looking back at him, fighting to hold back the tears, blood all over her nurse uniform. “I fucking promised him I would protect her. Now, we both know that neither of us are men of keeping their promises but this one, this one I intend to keep, because everytime I look into her eyes I believe, even for just a moment, that there is something good in this world. She suffered enough, deserves some happiness and I am not letting you ruin her chances at it. I am not letting you ruin her, Thomas.”

“I don’t plan on it.” Alfie scoffs at him.

“As you didn’t planned to fuck the beautiful blonde who came all the way from New York with her posh husband.” Tommy doesn’t show any signs of emotion but the Jew knows better. “Yeah, I know about her. The woman who betrayed you and then fucked off to America. Beautiful thing she is.”

“She is in the past.”

“Is she? Really?” Alfie restes his arms on the desk, leaning closer to the other man. “Because you’re sitting there telling me that you don’t plan on ruining Daphne but you are lying to her, ‘cause you were with the posh blonde some weeks ago.”

“It’s done. What I had with her is done now.” He pauses for a moment and Alfie just observes him without saying anything. “I know how much you care about Daphne and you have my word that I don’t intend to hurt her.”

“That’s the thing, mate, sometimes the things we don’t intend to find a way of happening.”

Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771​

[angelaiswriting]

Silence | Tommy Shelby x reader

[original picture: pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader + mentions of Tommy x Lizzie

✏️ Summary: Some things are just not bound to last. (Requested by two anons, whose requests I combined)

✏️ A/N: here, suffer with me 💛 As always, to be tagged in what I write, inbox me here.

✏️ Beta-read by @sweetvengeancee (I got her stamp of approval, so this angst should be good)

✏️ Warnings: angst + mentions of death

✏️ Word-count: 2,159

Oftentimes things go according to plan. Tommy’s well-calculated projects and schemes follow all the points they should touch – they start where they should and end where they have to. Setbacks might come up, but the second-oldest Shelby brother knows how to react, how to get rid of each and every obstacle blocking his road to success.

But sometimes, not even all his calculations are enough. The plan breaks, shit happens, and the happy ending he has spent days and weeks and even months hoping for just… vanishes – slips through his fingers like smoke – curls around his skin before disappearing into thin air.

He knows what’s going to happen even before she opens her mouth to speak. He reads it in her eyes, sees it in the slight tremor shaking her hands.

She is leaving.

The cigarette burns between his lips but he has forgotten all about it. It’s there, perched and on the brink of the abyss as ashes twirl down towards the ground – and his expensive shoes.

If there’s one thing Tommy Shelby has never thought of, it’s the possibility that she might say one last farewell to him before exiting his life like she has entered it – a ballerina on a stage. She’s always been a constant. For two long years, she’s been the one constant in his life apart from his family. She was there when he needed her and he was there when she needed him.

He still is there, but he knows she doesn’t care. He knows it doesn’t matter anymore.

He’s been through it, he’s done this to May. He knows the torments of a conflicted heart, knows the constant pangs of pain in-between the ribs when the memories overwhelm you like a wave, slap your face with their force of stone.

“Tommy.”

Fucking Christ, her voice is dripping. Big, fat droplets of feelings of circumstance roll down the curve of her lower lip as she readies herself to tell him she’s out of his life. And for good, this time.

If he could stop time, he would. He’d press a button, freeze the world, go back and understand where he went wrong, what he did wrong so that he can do better – be better. More present, for one. More caring, for two. She’s always been as precious as Grace in his eyes – as valuable – but he’s never showed it, not to her, not to anyone else, probably not even to himself. And he’s still repeated the mistake and he has wronged her tenfold this time.

He wants to choke on the smoke of his cigarette.

“Hi.”

They stand there, awkwardly, right outside the door of his mansion. And while she has a storm inside, he’s calm – this is the word he’d like to use, but the more-fitting one would be empty. He looks at her and he feels nothing inside – the reality of the words he reads on her face has robbed him of all he previously had.

“I don’t know how to approach this.”

And he knows it’s the truth. He knows she doesn’t want to say this, doesn’t want to leave him. The conflict of her heart and of her mind is right there, behind her eyes, and it curves her shoulders down, furrows her eyebrows as a light expression wrinkle cuts her forehead vertically.

“I’ve studied a speech,” and she curtly nods in the direction of the car she has arrived with to let him know where, exactly, she has rehearsed words she cannot remember, not now. “But nothing ever sounds right.”

“Then don’t do it.”

His voice is pleading – not because he wants it to be, but because there’s no stopping it. There’s no stopping the destructing extinction of what he has inside. It’s taken him so long to love her like he should and now that he has finally succeeded, now that he has opened his heart to someone else, it’s too late.

“I have to.”

She looks at him like she is the murderer. Like she has the smoking gun in her hand – like she’s always had it. And he looks at her and he sees what he could have had had he not been so adamant on being made of stone.

“This is not working.”

Four words – four stabs to his stomach. They’re quick, fast, more similar to bullets than to a blade.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I…”

The wind picks up and swallows her courage down its chilly throat.

“I’m not enough. I don’t come from your world, and this is probably why I don’t understand. Why I don’t know how to change.”

He wants to scream. And the voice is there, burning in the pit of his stomach with the blood squirting from his wounds, but his throat is clogged, his lips are sealed.

There’s a voice inside him that tells him he should tell her to stay. That this is not on her – it’s on him. On him and on the horrors of his past he’s so desperately holding on to. It’s self-harm but he can’t help it – he knows nothing else. War came and erased the world he knew and now, this Birmingham he’s ruling is still a blank slate he hasn’t managed to paint with his own colours.

“You don’t have to come from my world.” His voice breaks – it shatters like a crystal glass, and shards fly everywhere. He doesn’t remember the last time he sounded like this, doesn’t know if it were during his childhood or when he had had to leave for war. “You don’t have to change.”

“We knew this wasn’t bound to last,” she continues, undaunted. She squirms under his gaze, and he knows this isn’t fully her will, that this is not exactly what she wants. But she’s doing it anyway, she’s going down that dirt road that will leave both emptier than they were that morning. “We’ve known this from the start.”

She’s like a horse wearing blinders – she doesn’t stop, she sees nothing else but her end goal. And it scares him. It scares him because most of the time, that’s him, too. He fixes a goal for himself and does what he must to reach it.

He doesn’t like this, doesn’t like standing at the other end of the gun barrel, staring right into its black mouth as it readies itself to fire.

“So, it’s over,” he says, voice flat and empty, emotionless. The cigarette bounces between his lips and the ash falls, and that’s the only movement on his part as his body feels like it’s turning to stone.

She swallows and the early April sun glows on her skin like she were part of a painting. Imperfectly perfect, perfectly imperfect. And she’s even more unreachable than she had been the day he met her – the day he saw her at the Garrison, sipping on his gin, chatting with a friend.

“Leave, then.”

*

It’s only the week later that he realises what has happened. It’s when he wakes up one morning, groggy after a night spent on his books, a cigar between his fingers, a full tumbler of whiskey on his desk, that he realises she’s not there next to him under fluffy blankets.

Just a dream.

He had her in a dream – his lips on her body and her lips on his body. His hands in hers when she knelt between his legs, and then her eyes focused on him when he settled her thighs on his shoulders. He’s still warm – and hard – and it’s difficult to come back to reality – and to come to terms with it.

She’s not there and she never will be. The other side of his bed is empty. And cold. And that tiny corner of his heart that used to belong to her alone is now empty and abandoned – dusty. It feels like a stone in his chest and its weight is heavier the more he carries on with his days.

He knows where she is, and the knowledge doesn’t make his anguish lighter.

Boston first, but rumors have it, she’ll be in San Francisco really soon. October, November at most, and she’ll be celebrating Christmas day somewhere else – with someone else – someone that treats her like she should be treated, someone that loves her like she should be loved. Someone that doesn’t call her like one would a whore.

There is a man, and his name is Charles. He’s tall and broad, and while his wallet is not as big as Tommy’s, while his bank account is not as fat, he’s a good man. A hard-working man, but in a field where he’s not required to kill and cut and cheat. He lives under the sun, while Tommy crawls in the shadows – it doesn’t matter that he’s MP now, because his status didn’t manage to keep the woman he had ended up falling for.

Charles is like Michael, but a thousand times better. Tommy knows he’s been called to California to work as an accountant for the employer he’s worked seven years for in London. He’s been called to California and all he’ll have to deal with, is plain and boring legal business. There’s no need for someone like her to change for someone like him. She’s the whiskey to his cigarette, the bullet to his revolver, and there’s no denying that – there’s no filling his head with lies, not for Tommy.

It seeps into his every cell little by little, and it’s the everyday things that hurt the most.

She’s not calling into his office, telling him she’s waiting for him for dinner in some fancy restaurant he had never dreamed of looking twice at before money came into his pockets.

And he’s not warning the maids to cook for one more person.

His wife’s vanity, that same vanity he never found the courage to touch, will remain untouched once again. It’ll stand there, against the wall, collecting dust and memories as it gets old and the wood gets eaten to the bone by woodworms.

He can’t tell his family he’s missing something he had always given for granted when he hadn’t even made the effort to truly welcome into his life. And there’s also no telling Charlie that she’s not coming back, because it’ll hurt the child even more.

Still, probably not as much as it hurts him.

He sits there, in his office, and he’s staring out of the window. He doesn’t see his lands, though, doesn’t see the car that has just entered his property.

*

When the news come and tell her sad story, he doesn’t believe it at first. There’s no way he can bring himself to truly buy it that she’s died in a train wreck.

It’s the twentieth century and people don’t die in train accidents.

But she did. And Charles did. And apparently, she had been a couple of months pregnant, too.

The news come in April, a year after she bid him her last farewell, four months after getting married, after becoming Mrs. Jones.

It stings like a slap – and the tears in his eyes prickle even more.

It feels surreal. All the plans of going on with his life – of trying to get her back – suddenly vaporise. They’re there one moment and the next, they’re not anymore.

It’s like waking up – he always has those first few minutes when he opens his eyes where dream and reality just clash and fight like lions in the arena. Nothing ever feels real then, everything’s nebulous and fogged as his mind adjusts to the real world.

And he’s lying next to Lizzie. Dear, sweet Lizzie that never belonged in a brothel, that never deserved the life she had before he became her employer.

He’s lying next to her and he feels like he’s committing the same mistake he’s always – always – made in his life. He opens up, but it’s just a tiny fracture and from there, they can’t look into his soul, into what he carries inside – what eats away at his mind.

For a moment, he thinks he should tell her – tell her about Y/N, about what he had with her, what he would have loved to have with her. And about her death – above all about her death. And how her death makes him feel even a year after she exited his life. Shattered and broken and just… empty. So empty inside he fears he’ll never be able to be filled again.

But Lizzie’s expression as she sleeps is peaceful.

He sees no reason why he should burden her with his grief and the vacuum he has inside.

Even now, even after having witnessed its destructive effects, silence is still better than opening up.

Feedback and PB requests are welcome! ❤️

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[peakyxshelby]

Intertwined

Arthur Shelby x reader (x some Tommy too)

Requests: Hello. Love your writing, can I request ? I would love one with Arthur. Maybe one where He and the reader are long time friends and one night he gets too drunk and ends in her house and confess his love for her ? (Bonus point if the readers has a god or something that likes Arthur as well).

No problem 😉 So, Tommy is completely in love with reader but she is taken by one of his brothers. He getsmad when his brother and the rest of the family treats you bad, he cheers you up when you are sad...he can’t have you but he always tries to make you happy.

The Shelby’s had been in your life as long as you could remember. You and Arthur had been best friends since you could walk, both of your families would talk about how you two were destined to get married. That, however, didn’t happen and you both married to respected others. There was another Shelby always lurking around, Tommy. He barely let you out of his sight these days, this caused a lot of difficult arguments with your husband. He was a peaky blinder himself who felt he couldn’t compete with the infamous Shelby brother, in all honesty, he couldn’t. One night you had a massive argument again because Tommy walked you home from the Garrison.

“It’s getting fucking ridiculous!” Your husband, Robert, shouted at you.

“Aw fuck off, I’m going out,” You say grabbing your jacket and heading to the door.

“Don’t walk away from me!” He screamed back as you slammed the door behind you. This was beyond a joke, you know you didn’t love your husband but you didn’t  love Tommy either. It seemed like Tommy was trying to scare your husband off and you couldn’t be bothered with it anymore.

You marched into Tommy’s house making an entrance when you saw him standing behind Lizzie Stark who was bent over the kitchen table.

“Sorry to interupt but Tommy a word please,” You say not caring that you had just ruined the moment for them as you marched through to his office. You took a seat on his desk swinging your legs as you waited, it didn’t take long for him to enter in after you.

“Really (Y/N)? It couldn’t have waited?” He says sounding a little annoyed as he tied up his trousers.

“Well, I could’ve waited,” You snap back.

“Couldn’t be in there with her knowing you were in here. Wouldn’t be able to concentrate,” He flirted winking at you.

See this!” You shout standing up from the desk and starting towards him. “You can’t flirt with me, or speak about me in a suggestive way. My husbands at home losing his hair and shouting at me when you’re the one winding him up!”

“Oh come on (Y/N) it’s harmless. Besides you don’t love him, you never did love him. It’s not hard to see.”

“My marriage is none of your bloody business, Tommy. I swear you’re out to ruin it for me, I’m here to ask you to stop not for you to insult me.”

“I’m not insulting you, I’m just pointing out what everyone knows is true. I don’t know why you’re with him you deserve so much better.”

“Oh, and are you so much better Tommy?” You spat these words at him harshly. He didn’t say anything just poured himself a glass of whiskey and shrugged his shoulders. You sighed and stormed out of his office seeing Lizzie still sat there in the kitchen, you gave her a small smile and continued out the door slamming it behind you.

“Tommy,” Lizzie called for Tommy as she put on her coat.

“Hmm yeah sorry about that,” he said unsincerely as he made his way out his office.

“You love her,” He stopped in his tracks at this one. “Just tell her.” And with that, she disappeared out the front door.

As you stormed down the street you hadn’t even noticed the figure coming towards you until you had collided with them.

“I’m so so… Oh, Arthur? Thank fuck that’s you,” you moan as he gives you a hand up.

“Nice to see you too,” he laughs giving you a hug.

“I never thought I'd say it but I missed you, Shelby. Your brother has been driving me fucking insane I did wonder when my best friend would come back,” You giggled taking his arm as he walked you down the street. You hadn’t seen much of him since he married Linda, he got sober and boring all of a sudden. Talked to god more than he talked to you. It bothered you that you didn’t see him as much and you couldn’t drink like a fish with you anymore, you were happy for him. Happy he had settled down and cleaned up his act.

“Ah Tommy, he always was in love with you as I recall,” He laughed as you smack his arm.

“He isn’t in love with me just winds me up that's all.” Arthur just rolled his eyes at that one. “How are you, Arthur? And how is Linda? Tell me everything it’s been so long.” You and Arthur walked around Small heath for hours just talking and catching up. It was like nothing had changed from the times you were inseparable. As you approached your door you sighed hugging him tightly and not really wanting to let go. “I’ll see you around Artie.” You say giving him a sweet smile before heading inside.

You had another huge argument with your husband the next day, both shouting harsh words at each other. You didn’t necessarily mean what you said but it hurt nonetheless. He left the house in rage to go and stay with his parents for the night so you headed to the Garrison to drown your sorrows. The place was heaving, extremely busy for a friday night. While you pushed your way through the crowd, you locked eyes with Arthur. He hadn’t stepped foot in this place in months. You made your way straight to him practically running into his arms. Straight past Tommy who’s smile dropped into a frown when you ran past him to his brother.

“Arthur fucking Shelby, the soberest man in Small Heath and you’ve made your way back to the Garrison,” You call to him. He and everyone around him laughed at you snarky comment as you swung your arm round his shoulder. “Come on Artie. Let’s see if you can out drink me tonight, I’ve been practicing.” It took some light pushing to get Arthur to drink with you, you knew how good he had been sobering up and all. You didn’t want him to do it if he thought he would spiral.

“Just a few, I deserve it don’t I,” He chuckled as you took led him to the bar.

A few had turned into a lot in a couple of hours and the pair of you were like uncontrollable teenagers again, laughing at anything and everything. Tommy’s eyes were glued to you all night, you hadn’t realised but everyone else did. He was uncomfortable and fidgety as he watched your hand fall on arthur's shoulder or when you laughed and your faces would get closer together.

“Alright, you two?” John said patting his brother on the back.

“John! Come drink with us!” You shout not even realizing how loud your being and sliding the opened bottle of whiskey down the bar.

“I think if I joined in Tommy’s head would explode,” he joked sliding the bottle back towards you.

“What are you on about?” Arthur asks as you both turn around to look at tommy. Tommy’s eyes darted to the floor and he quickly turned his back to the two of you. “Ah, I see.”

“Am I missing something?” You ask confused.

“You seriously don’t know,” John asked an amused look on his face. You shake your head still confused as to what was going. “Tommy has the biggest schoolboy crush on you (Y/N).”

“Yeah a school boy one, he’ll get over it.” John shrugged his shoulders and left you and Arthur to it.

After another hour or so later you and arthur started to head home. You reached your house and opened the door and held it open for him.

“You coming in?”

“I don’t know, was meant to just stay at Johns.”

“It’s fine. It’s late and in that state, you’ll wake the kids up. I’ll make up the couch.”

“What about robert?”

“Oh, he isn’t in.” You threw a couple blankets and pillow on to the couch and then joined arthur at the table. He had got out two glasses and another bottle of whiskey already and set them out on the table.

“So what’s really going on with you and Tommy?”

“Nothing at all,” you laughed hysterically at the thought. “He’s lonely and I’m around a lot, he doesn’t actually like me it’s just a little crush.”

“John says he’s in love. Tommy speaks about you a lot you know.”

“John knows nothing. I know he cheers me up when I’m sad and helps me through tough times, we both know what he’s like protective over the ones he keeps close.”

“Almost took my head off when I didn’t speak to you for a while there. You know the whole sober thing, said I didn’t know how good I got it. Was really mad. Sure there’s nothing going on?

“That’s just tommy isn’t it. Nope, nothing.”

“Well good.”

“Good?”

“Mmm. Yeah, it doesn’t matter.” You didn’t push him any more than that. You didn’t know what he meant but you thought it might have been the whiskey clouding your judgment. You stayed up until the bottle was finished, not either of your best moves.

“Right then Artie,” you yawn. “I’m off to bed.” You try to stand up from the chair but fall right back over.

“Shit (Y/N), you alright?” Arthur asked rushing over to your side. You lay laughing with your legs in the air finding it hysterical. He let out a sigh of relief seeing you giggle on the ground as he held out a hand to help you up. As you grabbed it you pulled him down to the floor with you.

“Sorry!” You try to say through the fits of laughter. He joined you, tears streaming down your face as you try to control your laughter. You both eventually calm down, laughing subsides and your breathing returns to normal. He lay looking at you staring at every feature of your face he had missed for so long. You’re smile making his heart melt.

“I love you, you know.”

“Yeah you too, Artie.”

“No I mean I really love you.” You stopped laughing. You couldn’t process what he was saying.

“What?” You asked slowly, almost dreading the answer.

“I loved you since I was 10. Really loved you since I was 17 but there was never any time, Our lives moved at different paces. I loved you, but you moved slower. We couldn’t be in love. I just wanted you to know, I loved you then and I love you know.” You were speechless you didn’t know what to say or do but stare. You knew you loved him too. Just like he said you loved him then and you loved him now. You couldn’t think of anything else but your hearts finally intertwining as you lay a kiss on his lips. Your first, perfect, forbidden kiss.