#lizzie stark fanfic

[novashelby]

"Bike Adventures"- Lizzie Stark x Fem!Reader Drabble

Pairing: Lizze Stark x Fem!reader Warning: none-pure fluffy fun Word Count: 295 Summary: Lizzie and her friend go on a bike adventure. Thank you @starklizzie. I hope you enjoy it and I'm so happy you got your wifey.

Lizzie was a city girl, not having much experience in the countryside. So, when her friend offered her a seat on the front of her bike, Lizzie hesitated. The young Lizzie looked at it, then looked at the surrounding space. City streets and she was going to ride this bike to where? It was just the close outskirts. Technically still the city. Nothing far, she assured. “Alright,” she sighed, climbing on front bars. She hung on tightly. “Shit,” she cursed, slipping slightly. 

Her friend chuckled, “just calmed down-hold tight, but not so tight! I can’t move the wheel-”

“Well, I don’t know! How would I know!?”

“Just relax!” she laughed, starting to ride in the opposite way of the city center. Lizzie was tense the entire way, yelping and cursing every turn, bum, and hill. After a while, she was asked, “you really don’t know how to ride a bike?”

“No,” Lizzie said, jaw slightly tight. “Please slow down-oh, dear!”

Her friend chuckled and laughed the whole way until they hit some greenery. The ride started to become more relaxing until she turned towards the left, not paying much mind to the mud. Before both girls knew it, the bike kept tilting left, left, left until both were in a pile of wet grass. Her friend cried out in an ahhhhh! While landing with a laugh. But Lizzie took some time to ease, glaring just slightly. “My skirts!”

Her friend grinned and leaned in. “My skirts!” she mocked, sticking her tongue out.

Pouting, Lizzie whacked her. “That’s not funny!” But her pout eased into a soft smile. “Okay, maybe a little funny-but you shouldn’t laugh at me.”

Her friend rolled her eyes playfully before leaning it. “But it was funny,” she said, kissing Lizzie’s nose.

[starklizzie]

finally published my baby! please be kind to her. she's having a hard time.

(i probably shouldve published it at christmas. it's set at christmas. whatever, suspend your belief I guess.)

[graveyard---dolly]

I love here

[saintsir4n]

BROKEN HOPE

where eden shelby learns that she cannot have everything

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE, ANGST

——

1924

TOMMY Shelby had done a lot with his life. He had won, he had lost, he had killed and he had saved lives. All with the knowledge that he would have his family to turn to. Over the last few months; he had finally married the love of his life, she had been shot, he had an aneurysm, his eldest daughter had been kidnapped, Michael had taken a life and more turmoil and pain had erupted through the family.

And now he had to make more decisions, more consequential choices that would rupture more than just the family, but him. What he had to do wasn’t easy, it never fucking was.

He thought of it and tried drowning the growing guilt with whiskey. Even his brothers attempted to steer him away from the bottle but they couldn’t.

It was breaking their brother.

And more importantly, it would break his wife.

Eden Shelby.

The very woman who rushed into the room, with a stack of papers in her grip and an excited smile on her face. Lizzie was behind her, as was Polly.

“Sorry love for bursting in,” She rushed out, “but Tommy look. It’s done. Thank fuck. Look love, two years and it’s done. I was just telling…” she rambled when she settled down the pages in front of him, shooting smiles to her in-laws who couldn’t look at her. She tilted her head to the side when she noticed her husband’s vacant stare and hand his hand gripping onto his glass, “what’s wrong?”

“Pol shut the door,” Tommy instructed.

The woman made no effort to do so.

Eden’s brow arched, “Thomas?”

“Shut the door, Aunt Pol.” John begrudgingly urged.

Eden huffed, “What’s the matter? I know two years is quite some time but I was busy. We all are all the fuckin’ time —“

“Two years, Tom,” John stated, heatedly staring at his brother.

Tommy shot him a glare, “Shut up John.”

“That’s great Edie. Really great.” Arthur weakly praised his sister in law.

Polly stood, arms folded as she looked between her nephews, all appeared to be concealing something. But what, she didn’t know. But boy was she determined to find out.

Eden’s excitement faltered, “Thank you Arthur, at least one of you appreciates it.” She paused, “Thomas?”

Tommy’s gaze snapped toward her, he swallowed more of his drink as he did. Eden had already been shot because of the Italians. In the arm which affected her being unable to type let alone pick up a pen. And she caught an infection briefly. Which caused her mind to play tricks on her, yet writing brought her back. It made everything make sense to her. Especially her role in the family, as mother two pretty girls. They’re pretty girls. His wife.

His fucking wife.

Tommy’s eyes darted over to his aunt, “I said shut the door, Pol. And Lizzie get out.”

The women were startled.

“Thomas,” Eden said warningly.

“It’s alright,” Lizzie let the door shut behind her.

Tommy cleared his throat, and stood from his seat, “I need to talk to my wife.”

“Then talk.” Eden stiffly motioned. “Why do you look like that? What’s wrong? Is it those coppers again? We sorted things with the Russians, why does everyone look like someone shot a horse?”

Tommy leaned over the table, his eyes didn’t leave hers, “Listen Edie, it was out my hands.”

His brothers shifted in their seats, earning a sceptical look from their aunt.

“What was?” Eden asked.

Tommy continued, “I couldn’t get out of it.”

“Couldn’t get out of what Thomas?” Eden’s tone was more impatient.

He repeated, “It was out of my hands.”

“What fucking was?!” She raised her voice.

Arthur fumbled his hands and muttered, “She might need a drink.”

“So what, she can smash it over his face?” John sounded almost excited about the prospect. "I know I fuckin' wood."

“Will someone just tell me what’s wrong?!” Eden snapped, glancing between the men.

Polly moved forward, “Yes, just spit it out.”

“I made a deal.” Tommy declared, his palms grew sweaty on the table.

So he pulled them back. He stood, not tall, only stiff under his wife’s uncertain gaze.

Eden shrugged, “So?”

“You and your fucking deals Thomas. More Russian’s?” Polly had to ask.

Tommy answered, “Nor the Russians. The Calvary.”

“Coppers? What deal did you make with the coppers.” Eden felt a wave of nausea wash over her. “What fucking deal?”

“I need to protect my family. I need to protect you but I had to make a choice and I chose.” Tommy said, rounding the table. “To protect you because I swore to always protect you. To protect Inara and little Ines. I had to do what I did or I’d lose you. And I can’t lose you.” Not like I almost did.

Eden’s desperate gaze darted over his nearly stoic face. He was breaking down. The truth was peeking through the cracks and it drove her a few steps backwards.

“What… what did you do? Just say it.” Her voice pleaded. “Please you’re scaring me.”

Tommy averted his eyes, they trailed away from her confusion and his aunt’s dread. They landed on the piles of paper stacking on the corner of his desk. The piles and piles of paper. All the stories and metaphors between the words, the sentences that told more than they should. They spoke too much and had to go.

It had to go… to protect the family.

“It was you or your book and I chose you.” He uttered, confusing her further.

Eden was unsure if she misheard, “What? My book. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Words have power Edie, you know that. You even taught me that.” Tommy murmured, not daring to look at her.

“Holy Jesus,” Polly whispered to herself when she realised what had to happen.

He continued, “They know your pseudonym, they know who you are. And they know they can’t have a black woman have the reach you have. They can’t let your light shine through this fuckin’ fog.”

Eden blinked rapidly, “What are you saying, Tommy?”

“I’m sorry.” Only then did he stare at her, eyes softening and face tightening.

She shook her head in disbelief, “You’re what?”

“That book needs to go,” Tommy said, more firmly.

She scoffed. “No, it doesn’t.”

Eden stumbled forward.

Guilt settled on Arthur and John’s faces, when they rose to their feet, blocking the path of the book and ceasing the arguments from Eden’s mouth. Polly stood to the side, with her hand covering her mouth, as she watched on.

Tears stung in Eden’s eyes.

Writing was her passion. It was her voice, her power. Outside of this family, she had something that was for her. A sense of agency regardless of the name she had to use to gain traction. It was hers.

It was her voice.

Tommy knew that.

But their enemies knew that too.

And so her voice got lodged in her throat when her husband picked up her book. Her mouth opened but screams couldn’t be heard when John and Arthur gently yet firmly tugged her back.

Tugged her so she could reach out, not when Tommy scrambled to pick up her pages and pages of work. Not even in when his feet stomped over to the mantle piece where the fire simmered. Not when she clawed at their arms when her husband allowed two years were of passion being burnt to a crisp.

Polly stood in shock, frozen she was. She couldn’t have predicted this. She knew from the beginning Tommy could potentially hurt Eden. But there would be ways back from his discrepancies. But this… he had truly fucked up.

Her eyes briefly shut at the wail ripping through Eden’s mouth.

And with her remaining strength, Eden tugged out of the men’s grip and fell to the floor, eyes filled with pain and tears as they watched each piece of paper curl and turn to ashes.

“Two years Tom.” John accused his brother who turned away and picked up another glass of whiskey. “Look what you’ve done!” He screamed as if to relieve himself of the guilt he felt.

Arthur conflicted on whether to help Eden up but Polly’s scolding gaze forced him to back away. His aunt attempted to aid Eden but she couldn’t move.

There was no helping her. Not like this.

“Look at her!” John’s yell drew Tommy’s attention. “Writing was all she knew, all she had and look what you’ve done!”

“I think that’s enough,” it was far from it, Polly knew, sending Tommy a withering glare when Eden’s throat grew hoarse and hallow. “I need to get her out of here. Away from the three of you and your foolish deals and callousness.”

“It was her or the book,” Tommy whispered.

Polly scoffed, “Sod off Thomas.”

“It was her or the book!” He screamed, watching as his aunt forced his wife off of the floor.

“C’mon love.” Polly ushered her toward the door.

“It was you or the book Edie, I know what I’m picking every time.” Tommy stumbled forward.

Eden didn’t turn to look at him, she could hardly process everything around her. She could just recall the stench of burnt paper.

Polly pulled open the door and called out.

“Francis, take her back to her room.”

“Yes Mrs Grey,” the maid quickly complied, keeping a from yet gentle grip on the fragile woman.

Tommy called out “Edie, love.”

Polly forced the office door shut and fiercely turned to her nephew.

Johnny humourless laughed, “You’ve really lost the plot.”

“Fuck off.” Tommy lunged at him.

“You fuckin’ what?!”

Arthur targeted to break them up. “Enough, enough.”

“She was comin’ in her to tell you more than just about that fuckin’ book.” Polly’s voice pierced through their angst. “You may have one way to salvage this. You’ve taken her livelihood but given her somethin’ else. Another Shelby.”

And just like the brother’s, lost it all of again.

a/n:

guys this took place before the big arrest, at least a few hours before.

yes, this led to the deterioration of eden’s mind.

[staiyn]

Small peaky thought

About that whole Lizzie vs Grace drama, on who he really loved and whatsoever...

Most people forget the ORIGINAL DIVA and that makes me sad..

I fully believe this QUEEN had that man on a leash.

Also her Fashion sense is what Grace wanted to be. But you can not out-do the OG!

[evita-shelby]

Beware the Ides of March!

Grab your knives and togas and join me on this Tumblr Holiday where we celebrate the murder of Julius Caeser.

🥖send a prompt for a moodboard or a fic where the only requirements are: must have a murder, a knife, and/or a party

🍷 write a fic or a moodboard with the same requirements from the list above

🫒 let's play Caption This! Send a gif or picture of a character(ocs welcome!) And I'll supply the caption. You can also send the caption and i will find the gif or picture

🗡 the Gladiator Arena: send me a poll and the participants and let's see who wins the fight!

Won't be restricting myself to just peaky characters, every character I've written for be it a cillian murphy character, BBC's World on Fire and now, Masters of the Air

Masterlist

[mxpseudonym]

The Worshipping at Greenwood

Pairing: Lizzie Shelby x OC (Maggie)

Summary: Lizzie and her lover, an Arrow House maid, christen the bedroom of one of the new Shelby properties.

Length: 3.9k words

Warnings: NSFW, Infidelity (sorry-ish Tommy)

A/N: I really enjoyed this one. 🤭 Sapphic Lizzie Shelby has been on my list for so long, and I'm so glad I got to write this. Also, Natasha O'Keeffe is so beautiful it's crazy.

“Elizabeth. Like the queen.”

“Not like the queen.”

Lizzie chuckled and pulled the cigarette from between my fingers. “Not like the queen,” she said again before placing it between her lips.

“Alright, like the goddess,” I settled. “Lizzie, the Goddess.”

Lizzie shook her head at me like she always did when I talked like that, her black bob shaking softly. These days, she didn’t go on about not understanding me, though, and she stopped saying I thought she was someone she wasn’t. Her husband was the one who hired me and knew her longer, but I would reckon I knew her better.

“Alright, you sit there. I’ll put these away,” she ordered.

It had been six years since I started at Arrow House. Five since I began frequenting Lizzie Shelby’s bedroom on nights when her husband was away, which was often. It began as helping her nightly routine. She had trouble sleeping, so she started trying tea by the fire. Then she started having midnight baths. The other maids were sick of it and thought she was too low-born to make a fuss. I didn’t see the issue, however. It was our job, first and foremost. But I’d also been having trouble sleeping in the large, creepy mansion. At least I was paid and made friends, however. Lizzie was alone unless she was with Ruby or Charlie.

Eventually, Mr. Shelby allowed her to move to a room with a better view under the prescription of his aunt, a gypsy witch. But after nights spent dressing and undressing her and boiling tea again and again, eventually, I cracked. I crawled into bed beside her and held her until she dozed. It went on like this until hands began to brush against, wander over, and hold each other. Then lips, and then—

“Are you listening?” Lizzie asked, taking me out of my reminiscent thoughts. She was placing items in the cupboards I’d just cleaned earlier that week. It was the spring now, and Charlie and Ruby were still weeks away from coming home from boarding school. Mr. Shelby was busier than ever, even taking a wayward trip to America here and there. Most importantly, there has been tension between them lately. The maids were guessing an affair… again.

But really, Mr. Shelby was expanding again and doing even more dangerous things. Without the children, Lizzie felt shut in. So the all-knowing Shelby aunt suggested Lizzie break in a new property in the country called Greenwood. The main house was large. It has six bedrooms, three stories, and an attic and basement. But most importantly, it had 100 acres of land. A small staff worked the farm and kept the house together. There was a boarding house on the land for the farmers and a smaller cottage for the older couple who managed it all.

“Yes, I am,” I lied.

“I don’t believe you, so here it is again. I told the old woman, Mrs. Humphrey, that we’d do most of the cooking, but she bloody insisted, so she’ll come around noon and leave after making dinner. She said to keep the dishes in the basin, but we can do that,” Lizzie said. She wanted to be domestic, she’d said as we drove up here. Otherwise, I would fight her on trying to do chores when I would rather her not lift a finger.

“And when does this start?”

“Tomorrow. She’s already made dinner for us. It’s in the stove.”

Lizzie closed the cupboard and wiped her hands on a dishcloth. Neither of us spoke. The quiet was foreign and fragile. We couldn’t take it for granted for even a second.

“I’m glad we’re here. And I’m glad you agreed,” she thanked me.

“I go where you go, Madam.”

“Well, I think I’m going upstairs to try out the bed next. We have all night, but I want it right now,” she mused. The cheeky woman sauntered out of the kitchen towards the stairs. I sighed happily.

“What a woman.”

She wasn’t sensitive at first. Lizzie was familiar with groping and even liked it. But she made the best sounds when I kissed her first and talked to her.

“Open your mouth,” I told her. My fingertips pressed her cheek gently until her lips parted. I placed mine over hers. They were soft and silky from where she licked them. My tongue traced them, then slid past them. Lizzie was stubborn about showing her desire so freely, but she let a hand wound its way into my hair, and the other slid up my arm. I cupped her cheek, kissing her deeper until her calf rubbed against mine. She whimpered, frustrated that there was no pressing her thighs together to create friction for the pretty thing between. I only moved to her cheeks and jaw to catch my breath. She panted softly in my ear. If I lowered my hand, I wouldn’t even have to remove her lingerie to hear her say my name— gently cupping her would be enough. But I would save that for later.

Instead, I kissed her again, firmer this time, and slid up her waist to her breasts. Humbly sized and full from motherhood. She said she wasn’t sensitive there when I started dressing her in the mornings. That she never had been, even before when she “did most of her work lying down.” If she was ashamed of her past, she didn’t show it. She was comfortable in her body and knew it well. But I’d been on a mission to change her there. I stroked the swells as my tongue slid against hers. Her hand gingerly clenched the sleeve of my robe. I brushed over her nipple, and she hummed. Too distracted to be determined that it wouldn’t work on her. I shifted to lay fully between her legs and cup both at once. Her head tilted, and it was her turn to deepen the kiss. My thumbs steadily rolled her nipples while I massaged her. I would tease her later for the way her hips rolled once I finally pulled at them. She fidgeted under me, her knees pressing against my waist as I toyed with the strengths of my pulls. By the time I moved my kisses to her jaw to give us air, she was swearing.

“What’s the word?” She whimpered. I raised an eyebrow but only hummed as I licked over the places I bit on the column of her graceful neck. “Persistent. You’re fucking persistent about this.”

I could only laugh. She was right about that.

“Because they’re so perfect,” I explained as I reached her décolletage. My fingers slid under the thin straps of her top and sat back to shuffle it down to her waist. The angle gave me a breathtaking view. Lizzie’s face was beet red, with lips swollen and soft pants passing through them. My marks trailed down to her rising and falling chest. I didn’t dare look beyond her bare tummy, or I’d get ahead of myself.

“Take this off,” she told me, tugging at my robe. I did as I was told and then got back to work. My tongue circled her left nipple, exploring on its own accord. I kissed my way to the right side, leaving my hand to continue on the left, massaging and tugging. On the right, I licked and sucked and grazed my teeth over her tender bud. Lizzie gasped, and her hips jolted against mine.

“She likes it,” I whispered with a chuckle.

“Maggie,” she moaned. Lizzie kept surprising me today. She was early. But I wasn’t done. I moved my leg over hers, leaving one of my thighs pressed between hers. I kissed my way up again, meeting her lips again. She kissed fervently now. She would be needy soon and only able to be talked through it all. There were pros and cons to her in that state. The biggest con was that she would be too far gone to tell me when she was overstimulated, in which our time would be over. The pros were… everything else.

My hands moved to her hips and were starting to search for an outlet of any kind using the smallest thrusts. I pressed my thigh in further, parting her legs until I felt damp, warm silk against my skin. I didn’t have to say a word, only pressed her hips down, guiding her to grind against me. It was something she could play with while I had my fill, and play she did. I decorated the beauty before me with kisses. The slopes of her breasts were perfect for faint bite marks, soothed by a lapping tongue. I’d worked too hard not to enjoy the fruits of my labor. Lizzie made new sounds, rich sounds, wanton sounds with every alternation. Her face screwed up, went slack, turned unseemingly red, and was everything I’d hoped for. I snatched her hand away when she moved to cover her mouth. Never.

She found a rhythm against my thigh but disrupted it time and again when she was in a frenzy. I moved back to her left breast and generously helped her keep the rhythm by guiding her hips again. Lizzie’s gaze, glossy and desperate, turned down to watch me. Our stares locked just as I circled her nipple once more, then took it between my teeth, a bit rougher now. Her eyes rolled, and with her thighs wrapping around mine, keeping me pressed right against her, she came undone. The most precious gasps left her lips while her back arched. She was a thing of beauty. A goddess amongst man.

I wasted no time giving her a knowing kiss but once again decided to save my teasing for later. I was too interested in ridding her of her pajamas. Naked before me, she stretched and then ran her fingers lightly over her tender body.

“What are you doing to me, Mags?”

“Worshipping, I think they call it,” I whispered, fully enthralled by Lizzie’s hands, never ceasing until they stroked the soft curls leading to her center. She was nearly dripping, all shiny and slick, even on the insides of her thighs. Her hands were those of a housewife— manicured and soft but just as alluring.

“You’re still on about that?”

“What else would I call kneeling before you and giving you my all?” I questioned as I crawled between her spread legs. Refusing to leave an inch untouched, I kissed the softness of her belly. I was in awe that she’d held a child, creating it and bringing it to life in this very body. My life-giver sighed when I reached the crevices of her thighs, the creases inviting me to run my fingers over them and later use them as anchors to hold Lizzie in place.

I started at the insides of her knees, earning a groan because I was surely taking too long for her liking. But she was much more patient with one undoing under her belt. I loved the dimples of her thighs, the stretch colors of her stretch marks, the evidence that she was living fully. The closer I got, the warmer she was. Lizzie’s legs went over my shoulders habitually, and her calves caressed my back. When I licked the essence that was slathered across her inner thighs, just a head tilt away from the folds of her pussy, I took a moment to appreciate how she consumed me just as I consumed her. Her thighs covered my ears, my nose pressed against her skin, and, in a few minutes, her hands would be in my hair, holding me there. I smiled at the thought and accidentally let my lips brush against her folds, and I turned to clean her left thigh. Lizzie gasped, and her hands reached. I forgot that she was early today, and I didn’t have it in me to keep her waiting much longer.

I didn’t understand the disdain some men had for tasting a woman here and understood the confusion around it even less. Does one not want delicious fruit? When you bite into a peach, ripe and waiting, does one fear the juice that dribbles down their chin? No. They take it eagerly and drink as they eat it.

“Maggie,” Lizzie sighed, back arching. I lapped between her folds, tasting the creamy evidence of her earlier release. Then, up around her hooded bud, I traced, careful not to rush. She was always generous with her juices, giving me more every single second she enjoyed herself. Her hips moved against my tongue, becoming greedier by the second. “Don’t you think you have as much as you can handle?” I wanted to ask them. But she would cry out “Yes” like a chant sung in the most delicious tone, and I conceded. I didn’t know a thing.

Keeping her waist still was a special challenge. The act in itself worked her up and caused them to move even more. Once, I pinched her and told her to stop that. I may as well have rewarded naughty behavior because she came right away. She was too far gone to put two and two together, but I kept the act of pinching in my back pocket ever since. She didn’t need it today. She was feeling it more than usual, after all. One hand stroked my hair, all her restraint going to not tugging on it, and the other letting it all out on the bed sheets.

I glanced up as I began prodding her entrance with a stiff tongue. She whimpered again, then gradually moved a hand to her undoubtedly tender breast. She hissed with gritted teeth when her palm brushed her nipple, but she invited the feeling, still massaging with gentle pressure. Her wetness flowed, and I would swear nectar poured down my throat as if I were drinking water from a spring. I would save the pinching for another day, but I still moved my tongue to her sensitive bud to make way for my finger.

“Fucking hell,” Lizzie gasped. My lips wrapped around her clit while my tongue did steady work. Slowly pressing into her simultaneously left her quiet and slack-jawed. It was too amusing and caused me to hum against her. Her hips jerked beneath my hand. A second undoing when I was only a knuckle deep? She was in rare form.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t bring myself to wait for her to calm down. I pressed my full finger, feeling her fluttering walls give me more of her wetness. I decided to add a second, and by her sob, I believe she found it agreeable. Lizzie did like to go on for some time. One undoing was never as good as four or five. Or perhaps it was me who didn’t know how to stop at just one. The more she came, the prettier her face. I liked the look she was giving now— eyes closed, lip between her teeth, face flushed like a rose. I knew she wasn’t thinking of anything. Not the past, not the present, not home, not a man. She was this body, in her bed, with me. My fingers curled within her, but she didn’t cry my name. I slowed and turned to kiss her thigh.

“Breathe, my love,” I told her. She took a shaky breath in, then another.

“Maggie,” she finally said, looking down at me. “It’s unbelievable.”

I could only smirk and continue my work. Two could become three with how wet Lizzie was, but she was reaching satisfaction. She wasn’t as greedy as I was and not as selfish as I’d like. She would reach for me soon.

Her third undoing was strong. Her thighs threatened to close around me, but I stubbornly caught every drop that came from her, memorizing her taste, temperature, and scent. As expected, she shifted away from me, pulling me up until we were kneeling in front of each other. Then, she kissed me this time, with some being a ruse to lick her essence from my chin.

“Don’t think I don’t know you’re dripping, love. I can almost hear it,” she said in my ear. My face flushed hot, and my lips rubbed together. A benevolent goddess gives as well as she receives. For all I knew, Lizzie knew me better than I knew myself, and she was ruthless. She let her fingers stroke the insides of my thighs while she kissed my neck. I was already on fire. Every touch felt like the one that could push me over the edge.

She moved behind me, her hands reaching around to grasp the fullness of my chest. My breasts were larger than hers, and she always mentioned that she loved that.

“You’re incredibly sexy, Maggie,” she said sweetly. “Do I get all of you?”

“Every bit,” I confirmed.

Lizzie was much more skilled with her fingers than I could ever hope to be. She pushed me forward so my chest pressed against the bed and she could kiss down my back. She was less patient than I was, as well. But it was likely out of necessity. She languidly tongued my folds from behind. I tried to imagine what she was doing, but my mind was muddled in seconds.

“You come so quickly,” she said, both amused and in awe. “You get yourself all worked up when you’re messing with me. I’ll have to start with two, just so you can feel it.”

“Lizzie,” I cried out. She made me feel full every time. Her two fingers, long and nimble, reached farther within me than I ever could on my own. I could hear my own slickness squelching in the room, and my thighs trembled.

“Ah, ah, don’t. Not yet. Not until your goddess says, yeah?”

I blinked at the order. She kept surprising me. My eyes were clenched, and whimpers spilled from my lips as I pushed back against her hand. She said that meant I wanted it deeper and began meeting the rhythm of my hips. Lizzie pressed kisses against my lower back, my thighs, and my perched ass while telling me how erotic this was. How erotic I looked.

The begging began when Lizzie announced I was truly dripping only her sheets and slid in a third finger. She never said the consequence for going against her order, but nothing was better than being obedient to her. Stars appeared behind my eyelids before she finally said it was okay. Lizzie’s voice talked me through the jolting and trembling. Her arm looped around my waist, pressing me against her so I was still enough to keep receiving her fingers. She pulled out her fingers only to use her thumb to firmly circle my pussy. She stimulated my sensitive bud and folds and freshly stretched hole. I sobbed into the bed when she leaned down for a taste.

“You’re sweet,” she mused. She lapped at me until one release melded into another, and I had to push her away. We stayed in bed for a while longer.

There was no one in Greenwood, and there wouldn’t be for the whole summer. I propped my head up on my hand as she said it again and again while rolling around. No smoke. No mud. No Birmingham.

She rolled onto me, making me laugh and wrap my arms around her.

“Just us,” she said, finally. I nodded.

“Just us.”

[katebishopofearth]

Feel free to ignore….

How do you think tony would react to nats death? (In an ironwidow world ofc)!

Anon you've caught me in an ironwidow mood, and also a writing mood, and also an Endgame mood thanks to @queeenpersephone's excellent scene rewrite. So, it seems like the stars have aligned to make me answer this ask ;)

----

"See you in a minute." Natasha had smirked and brushed her lips against the corner of his mouth, a quick goodbye like she was going to to pick up cat food from the store down the road. Tony had barely laid a hand on her waist, hadn't even begun to hold her close for a lingering goodbye before they went off to different corners of space and time, when she stepped back lithely and slipped out of his reach.

He'll see her before too long.

But a minute later – after he took a life-changing trip to the past and laid some daddy issues to rest – Clint returns alone to the here and now. Drenched and weaponless, he collapses onto all fours, an orange jewel clutched in his hand.

The Avengers stare at him in trepidation, waiting for an explanation, when all he can offer is a grief-stricken look on his face. A black holes opens up in Tony's stomach and swallows his pounding heart.

"Where is she?" he demands, his voice shaking.

The bow-less archer turns his eyes to him. A look of profound sorrow carved into the lines on his face.

No. Tony swallows the despair that threatens to swallow him whole. "Where is she?!" He repeats, using anger to mask the immense fear that yawns inside him. He steps forward and kneels down to grabs Clint by the shoulders. "Tell me, you coward!" he snarls, at once a demand and a plea. Tell me she's right behind you. Tell me she got left behind. Tell me there's still time to save her. Tell me… tell me… anything except –

Clint shakes his head, unshed tears in his eyes like the alien stars he has just witnessed. "She's gone." His voice cracks.

"No – you're lying." Tony's voice comes out far harsher than he intends. "Tell me you're lying, Barton. Tell me where she is." He's pleading now, all desperation.

"Clint?" Steve prompts, his voice even and calm and Tony hates it, hates how he can be so fucking composed when Natasha isn't here. "Tell us what happened."

"The stone demanded a sacrifice," Clint says. "I tried to stop her, I really did." A sob wrenches its way out of his throat. "I fought her so that she wouldn't jump but she…" His laugh is a broken thing. Something inside Tony – the last remaining shard of hope – shatters at the sound. "She was too fast, too strong for me." He sinks his forehead onto Tony's shoulder despite the other man's aggressive hold. "It should have been me."

"No. No, that's not true, that's not…" Tony stumbles over the words. His head spins, light particles and dust molecules and oxygen swirl around him, taking no shape. His lungs don't work properly anymore. He sees her in his mind's eye, on some barren cliff on an alien planet, and the image doesn't make sense, it simply isn't possible. That she no longer exists somewhere in the world, that the universe isn't warmer for her presence, living and breathing, as certain as the Earth spinning on its axis. Tony wants to look out the windows because surely, surely without her the sun would crumble into ash and the atmosphere disappear and the world fall into smothering darkness because a world without Natasha – is not a world that can exist at all.

Clint raises his head and the grief in his eyes is as fathomless as the pit that yawns within Tony. A black hole to swallow them both and the world with them. Part of Tony wants to put his arms around Clint, hold onto the only person who can possibly understand this terrible, apocalyptic grief and emptiness. But the other part of him wants to push him away, to curse and scream, to fight time and fate and the universe itself.

That angry, resentful part wins out. He shoves Clint off and gets to his feet. "You're right," he snarls. "She's not the one who deserved to die."

"Tony!" Steve gasps in reproach, grabbing Tony's shoulder. But Clint only hangs his head in shame. "That was out of line," Steve reprimands.

"Out of line?" Tony echoes angrily. "Natasha is –" /dead/. He can't bring himself to say the word, to make it unbearably true and final. If he doesn't say it, he can pretend that maybe, maybe in another minute he'll see her again, and this time he'll wrap his arms around her, holding her properly so that she can't slip away again.

"She's gone," Steve says with sombre finality. The lines between his brows betray that he's already admitted defeat, and it makes Tony want to punch him in the face. "We've got to move on." The look of sympathy in his eyes, that implies I know how you feel, makes Tony sick to the stomach.

Tony's voice is freezing cold. "With all due respect, Cap," which is none, he adds silently, "Natasha isn't Peggy Carter. She didn't get to live a full life and achieve great things, and grow old, and die in her own bed surrounded by her children and grandchildren. She has so much life left to live!" He's vibrating with rage, and it's all he can do to stop himself from throwing hands with Captain America.

"She did," Steve agrees, squeezing Tony's shoulder in a way that's meant to be comforting but comes across as a pressure. "But she sacrificed herself for a cause, and we'll honour that. Make the price she paid worth it. We'll save the world. It's what she would want."

Tony glares, his anger freezes his veins and burns him from the inside out. "You don't get to tell me what Natasha would want." He pushes Steve's hand from his shoulder. "For someone who says he wants to save the world, you're awfully quick to give up on the people you love."

"You can't change the past, Tony," Steve urges, but Tony brushes past him roughly.

"No," he says with icy conviction. "I refuse to believe that. I didn't figure out time travel by admitting defeat. You might be able to move on, Steve," he adds scathingly. "But not me."

He marches to the console of the time travel machine. A cold fire burns at the edges of the black hole inside him, the only thing keeping it from engulfing him in despair. He's figured out time travel once, he can do it again. Especially when it's the life of the one person he loves more than anything else that's on the line.

He looks around the tense, grief-stricken faces of the gathered Avengers. Everyone Natasha loves – everyone who loves Natasha – in one room. Steve's arms are crossed and he frowns in disapproval, but Tony can't give a rat's ass what Captain America thought. "We want to save the world?" He puts it to the team. Bruce and Thor offer tentative nods, and that's good enough for him. "Good. We start by saving one of our own. It's only a victory if we all win together."

A spark lights up behind Clint's eyes. A glimmer of hope. Wordlessly, he gets to his feet and offers Tony the orange gem that sits in the palm of his hand. The Infinity Stone that Natasha gave her life for. A singularity of the birth of the universe, but a trinket compared to the singularity, the complexity, the paradox that is Natasha Romanoff.

As Tony takes the Stone from Clint's hand, a silent understanding passes between the two of them. They would trade all six Infinity Stones, a hundred times over, for Natasha's life and think it a bargain.

"New mission, team," he announces. It's a side quest in the grand scheme of the fate of the world, but it's also the only quest that's ever mattered. Because what good is saving the world if Natasha isn't in it? He adjusts the coordinates on the time travel machine and sets a course to Vormir. "We're gonna get Natasha back." Or he would die trying. Either way, he promises silently, I'll see you soon, honey.

[tommyxgrace-always]

The sparks with these two🔥🔥🔥

…and then there was Lizzie,

the only spark she got was on her cigarette. Must say, she had far more chemistry with her cigarettes than him!!

[cosmic-crybaby]

Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby

Chapter 18: 'Like Real People Do'

Warnings: Mentions of blood, childbirth, last chapter

Masterlist:

---

Months had passed since your relationship with Thomas Shelby had come to an end.

You had someone by your side with every step of the way. Now just a few weeks away from your predicted due date, Ada, Polly, and Esme were there to help you when you needed them. Even Alfie and John had stopped by a few times when you needed them to. But the Shelby women were there through it all. Esme had made an effort to be with you almost every day, even while she was expecting her first child herself.

Esme also kept Thomas' name to a minimum when it came to conversations with you, although she had wished she could gossip about the recent things he had done. Your mind had drifted back to him from time to time, wondering what he had gotten himself into now or how he was doing in that big mansion all alone. You stayed strong and refrained from reaching out to him for your own sanity.

Esme wore she would never give Tommy any kind of update on how you were doing, but Polly and Ada gave him some peace of mind after answering his burning and persistent questions.

“She’s doing just fine,” 

“Her and the baby are healthy,” 

“Yes, she’s still working,” 

But that was the extent of it all.

Tommy really had no idea how you were really doing, and even though you wanted to keep it that way, he still refrained from stopping by your bakery, or sending a peaky boy or two to keep watch on you and the kids. An extra measure to make sure you were safe. He knew you were smart, and would have spotted them right away, but again part of him wished that was the case so you could talk to him again.

But it was better this way, it kept him up at night, thinking you were all alone now. He stayed awake at night with the regret of ever hurting you and jeopardizing your relationship. The one night with Lizzie Stark caused his heart to shatter every night he went without you in his arms.

You, on the other hand, continued to care for your two children and work on your own for the most part, even if you slowed down the further you grew into your pregnancy. You eventually gave into Esme’s request to help you out when the days got busy or when you simply needed to rest. 

Tonight was Henry’s first orchestra concert. You were adamant on attending, no matter what. You sat in the front row with Elizabeth in the middle between you and her Aunt Esme. Watching him on stage along with the other kids of all ages. You gushed to Esme about how cute he looked in his suit, but went silent as they began to play. Listening to the beautiful symphony of classical music. You proudly gazed up at him on the stage as he focused on the sheet music and the movements of the bow on the strings. It was times like this where you were thankful that Thomas paid for violin lessons so he could perfect his skills on time for the show. Your smile dropped as you felt a sharp cramp to your side, inhaling quickly. Your hand quickly flew to your stomach for a moment until the pain quickly subsided. You managed to sit through the concert in uncomfortable silence, not wanting to miss a second of Henry’s performance. You shift in your seat as you take slow and deep breaths while rubbing your side to calm down. 

Once the curtains close and everyone applauds, you turn to Elizabeth. 

“Why don't you meet your brother backstage when he’s done?” You asked her. 

“Okay mum,” She nods, watching her stand from her seat and skip off to the side of the stage. Esme looked over at you, worried.

“What’s wrong, love?” She asked, moving to sit in Elizabeth's empty seat. You groan a bit, attempting to stand up but sit back down with a shocked gasp. You feel around your dress, as the clear liquid spilled down to your knees and into the floor. 

"I-I think my water just broke," 

You knew your due date was nearing quickly but you didn’t think the baby would come this early. Esme rushes to help you stand, grabbing your arm as you hissed at the aching pain in your back. 

“Come on love, not much time now,” She guides you to stand up. Just as you pass the stage, Elizabeth and Henry walk out. Henry held his violin case as he looked at you. You halt your steps. 

"Oh, you did amazing sweetheart," You smiled at him as he gave you a tight hug. 

"Thanks mum," As he let you go, you reached out for their hands. You glanced at Esme as she nods once to make a call to John.

"Okay, listen..." You paused, taking a deep breath. "We will drop you off at Aunt Adas and then we will come pick you up in the morning when-" 

"Rather than staying with their own father?" A strong voice said from behind. 

"Dad!" The two shouted happily as they ran to him and hugged him tightly. 

"Alfie?" You stood up straight with a groan. After he greeted the kids he approached you.

“No way in hell you’re gonna let my kids be watched over by a Shelby,” 

"Alfie I-”

" Right, I will be taking them for the night, I insist…" He dismissively told you. 

"You really never miss their performances," You told him quietly with a small smile. 

"Of course not, I fuckin' love my family," Even past his burley exterior, you could still see the love in his eyes.

"Mum?" Elizabeth looked up at you. You glance down at her. 

"Right! We'll get you in the morning when the baby gets here. okay?" 

Their eyes brightened up. 

"Okay mum," They said. You slightly bend down to pull them into hug them and give them quick kisses on their cheeks. 

"Stay safe, mum" Henry whispered in your ear. You nodded. 

"I love you, I will see you in the morning," You handed your children off to their father. Just then Esme had returned, rushing to your side.

"Thank you, Alfie," You smiled at him, wanting to just reach to hold his hand, but Esme grabbed your hand first after seeing the sweat beading on your forehead. 

"(Y/n)," She whispered. 

"I wish you well (Y/n), may God protect you, Love...stay safe," 

That was the first time you had seen him show real concern for you in a very long time. 

"Love, the car's here we've got to go," Esme rushed.

In the car, Esme sat in the backseat with you, helping you breathe through the sudden increase of pain as John drove like a madman back to your flat. As planned, you had arrived home and John helped you out of the car and into your bedroom. Esme was quick to call Polly and had her rushed over, since she was the only person you had trusted to help you deliver the baby and she lived only a few streets away. As you sat on the bed, hunched over and panting, John rubbed your back. Even though he had seen this many times before and witnessed the birth of his many kids and siblings, he still felt anxious for you as his hands shook.

"(Y/n) Polly is on her way but we need to get you ready," Esme hurried into the room, holding clean sheets and a large, thin night dress. She had ushered John out of the room, sending him to gather blankets, towels, and water. She helped you undress and put on your nightgown as you finally were able to catch your breath for just a minute before the cramping started up again, this time a loud cry erupting from your throat as you gripped onto the bed sheets. 

"Fucking Christ!" You shouted.

"You're doing great love just keep breathing," Esme calmed you, trying to keep your breathing regulated. She moved your hair out of your face as it stuck to your face the more you began to sweat. 

"Esme, it hurts! I can't do this!" You cried. 

"Yes you can! Just hold on, Polly's almost here," She comforted you. You whine as John entered the room, bringing the things Esme ordered. 

"She's here," 

It was like everything was a huge blur, you had no idea what was going on until Polly greeted you. Hasty, and trying to stay calm as she ordered John to get more water. 

"(Y/n), you've got a fever, you need to stay awake so we can get the baby out, okay?" She spoke clearly. You tiredly nodded. She helped you onto the bed, sitting up as she rubbed your back gently. In the midst of your next contraction you held Esme's hand tightly as Polly checked your dilatation. 

"You'll need to start pushing soon okay?" Polly asked, standing up to wash her hands and grab the pile of linens and towels.

"N-No, I can't, it hurts," You cried, your words coming out like slurs and your eyelids getting heavier. 

"Shit, John! Where is the fuckin' water?!" Polly shouted. The room began to spin as everyone in the room began shouting and yelling at each other. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. Not until you heard him call your name. 

"He just turned up, I couldn't tell him to leave, Aunt Pol he has every right to be here!" John argued. 

"I don't give a shit, he's hurt her in more ways than one and right now she needs help not a fucking reminder of the man who put her in this situation!" She argued. 

"She doesn't even want to hear your name, what makes you think she wants you here?!" Esme spit. 

"(Y/n)," He called. "I need to see her, please," He begged as he tried to push past Polly. She glared at him, refusing to let him through. 

"Only if she agrees," She noted. 

"She's delusional, she can barely speak!" Esme shouted. 

"Tommy?" You mumbled. A whimper left your throat as you looked towards the door. A moment of silence filled the room as he was let in, much to Polly and Esme's dismay. Thomas stood by you and held your hand as you looked at him with a dazed look in your eyes. Your face was pale, your pupils wide, as the sweat drips down your temples and neck.

"Hi love...I'm here now, I'm here for you," He nodded. 

"Polly-" You quickly turned away from Thomas as you called for his aunt. She walked to the bed once again, lifting the sheet to check your dilatation. With a focused face she ordered Esme to help. 

"Give her water, try to keep her cool because this baby is coming now," She hurried. Drinking the water quickly and shutting your eyes as you felt the need to push. 

"You're doing great, (Y/n) just keep breathing," Esme encouraged you as she dabbed your forehead with a damp towel. You nod once as you try to focus on your breathing. The impending pain made you open your eyes as you frantically reached for Esme's hand. Esme held you close, looking up at Thomas to step up and do the same. He was almost frozen in his place as he stared at her.

"Tommy," You called for him again, holding your hand out as he tightly squeezed. You cried out in pain

"It'll be okay, keep going," He looked at you with wide eyes. 

"Fuck!" You cursed loudly as you threw your head back. 

"Almost there (y/n) almost there! One more!" Polly affirmed. It seemed like everything had gone by within the blink of an eye. One last push and one last cry from you and it was all over. The pain became numb as your legs trembled. The warmth of the blood drenched your sheets as Polly gasps in relief. Far too exhausted to lift yourself up to get a proper look at the little bundle as Polly cleaned them up. Your vision begins to double as you sink back into the pillows. The muffled sound of Esme and Tommy calling your name was almost deafened when you heard the coos and crying of the baby. You felt your eyes get heavier and heavier as the sweat and heat began to get too much for you. And with that, you were out. The room was worried for you. Trying to wake you up but the fever, the pain, and the blood loss had all hit you at once. 

That summer, Elizabeth and Henry were sitting on an old blanket on the grassy hills under the trees. The very same spot Thomas had taken them, chasing the ducks and flying paper airplanes over a year ago. The sun was warm and bright as the birds sang and the children laughed. A basket full of food and sweets sat beside them, Henry was restraining himself from sneaking a taste of the apple dumplings. You had approached behind them, the small baby in your arms as you set the small bag of necessities for the baby on the grass before you sat down. 

"Can we take Evelyn to look at the ducks, mum?" Elizabeth asked, the baby cooed and giggled as she grasped onto your fingers. 

"Yeah, let's go before Aunt Esme arrives," You nod as you stand up, and approach the small pond. She was still small, but her chubby hands grasped at the water, giggling as the little gold fish scattered whenever she wiggled her fingers. You chuckled as Elizabeth and Henry fed bread to the ducks, screaming and laughing as the ducks quacked and chased them around if they held the bread for too long. 

"(Y/n)!" Esme had called. You stood up, looking at the top of the hill, holding your hand over your brow to shade your eyes from the sun. She waved happily, the baby in her arms bundled close to her chest. John's kids greeted Henry and Elizabeth before they gathered to run about the hill. The two of you sat on the blanket, watching the kids kick a ball around, their laughs were carried with the wind. Behind you, in the car, John stood. Smoking a cigarette. 

"You alright, brother?" John turned to his older brother. Thomas leaned against the car. You didn't know he was there, and he didn't want to be known. He held the cigarette in his mouth as his hands were shoved in his pockets. He heavily sighs. 

"Yeah..." He mumbled. He hoped to get a glimpse of your new life. You looked happy, laughing with Esme as you held the baby by the hands as she took wobbly steps. The small glance he got at her, in her bright blue eyes. She looked just like a perfect combination of the both of you. It ached him that he had to keep his distance when all he wanted was to be next to you, holding the babe in his arms just as you were now. 

"Why don't you go talk to her?" John asked. He didn't completely understand why Thomas couldn't just man up and talk to you again. But it was more complicated than that. 

"I can't John," 

"Why not? Tom, you were meant to be, just give it a try," 

The days after Evelyn was born, Thomas tried to reignite that spark in you. And as much as it saddened you, you declined.  Your heart wanted you to go back to him, but every other part of you didn’t want to get hurt again. It just wasn't going to work. The amount of times he had hurt you was just too much to overlook the times he cherished you.

"Perhaps meant to be just wasn't for us, John..." 

You picked Evelyn up, lifting her up in your arms before bringing her down to give her a kiss. She squeals as you do it again and again. 

"That's bullshit," John muttered, flicking the end of his burnt out cigarette onto the gravel road. Thomas only took his hand out of his pocket to do the same. Shaking his head, swallowing thickly as he felt the lump in his throat grow the more he watched you. 

And you smiled, maybe not at him, but after all this time you still smiled, so he smiled too. He quickly looks down, licking his lips before pushing himself off of the car. 

"Let's go," He mumbled as he got into the driver's side. He gave you one last glance. Evelyn looked at you before turning her head to Thomas. Locking eyes with him. It was like he lost his breath at just how beautiful she was. Making him think, just how could someone as cold and deadly as himself make something so warm and beautiful. 

"What are you looking at, love?" You asked Evelyn, she looked at you then back to the road. Pointing a chubby finger in that direction. Confusion washed over your face as you looked over your shoulder. You both stared at each other, doing and saying nothing until you lifted your hand to give him a small wave, as a comforting smile formed on your face. Thomas returned the gesture before driving off. Your eyes followed the car until you couldn't see it anymore. 

"You still love him, don't you?" Esme calmly asked. You looked down, swallowing a bit before silently nodding. 

"That's okay...You made the right choice," She scooted closer to you, putting a comforting hand over yours. You nod again, your breath shuttering as you look up. The golden sun casting a glow on your skin as you wiped your tears. 

"We were always made for each other, just never made to last,"

---

This was the final chapter of 'Blue Skies' I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have another Tommy Shelby story in the works that will be posted soon! In the mean time if you would like a bonus chapter with Tommy x (yn) or Alfie x (yn), feel free to let me know.

Tag List:

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[dbnightingale24]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I don’t like Lizzie Stark. She’s always had an heir of entitlement and it pisses me off. We all know that Thomas (while no angel) is secretly a broken and soft man. Hell, the broken part isn’t a secret. Lizzie feels like she’s owed something because she’s stuck by the Shelby family all this time, but that’s a choice she made-she isn’t owed shit. She’s always known the type of man that Thomas is, and she made excuses because she’s in love with him. That’s on her, NOT him. She berates him when he’s laying in the mud after seriously contemplating suicide, she always calls his house HER house even though that was the house that he and Grace shared…after everyone believed that Arthur had been killed, she yelled at him for not being home for days. I’m sorry…but Lizzie just sucks. I think all of the Shelby men pick horrible women, but I just really can’t stand Lizzie or Grace. They’re both awful.

[novashelby]

I'm Not Your Wife, I'm Your Daughter-Father!Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC-Angst

Pairing: Father!Tommy Shelby x Daughter!OC-Evelyn (but honestly, Evie has a little bit of everyone. So, you are welcomed to be Evie...we are all Evie)

Warning: Death, swearing, violence, mentions of sex, very sad

Word Count: 2,761

Summary: Evelyn comforts Lizzie as Ruby gets sick in the hospital. When Tommy neglects his family, his daughter has some choice words for him

I am so proud of this. For the first time in a while, I feel really happy with something I wrote. So, please please please consider commenting and letting me know what you think. I know likes are easier, but I'd really appreciate some comments.

The childrens’ tuberculosis wing was a dark road. In fear of contraction, no one was allowed past a certain point. It reminded Evelyn of the road to hell, but she was older then. She knew better to speak the words in her head. So instead, she said nothing as Lizzie and her stared down the corridor that only seemed to get darker. A simple hand on the shoulder was good enough, whatever that was…good enough. They knew nothing was good. So, perhaps, it was just enough.

No longer able to bear looking down where they took her, Evelyn turned, letting out a large exhale. Out of everyone, she had to be the strong one, the present one, the mature one. There was no room to lose herself. Without looking at Lizzie, her hand searched behind her until she felt the ridges of her checkered coat. Her fingers hooked around the sleeve and tugged. But she was stubborn. If anything at all were to change from then until the end, Lizzie was determined to be there. 

“Go home,” she told Evelyn, not unkindly. More so lack of any emotion. But she’d be damned if she left. Evelyn looked at her step-mother, or mother, she was never really sure what any of them were. The woman was young-only eleven years older than she, but her eyes were sunken in and her cheeks lost all and any color. It would have been nice and too easy to blame it all on grief. Evelyn knew better. Her father sent everyone to an early grave. 

She shook her head. “No way home at this time.” 

Lizzie softened a bit, giving a short head nod. “Very well-”

“Can I get you anything?” she asked. There was nothing left to get. Lizzie needed no more coffee. The two women shared a look of understanding. Lizzie stepped forward and hugged Evelyn; her arms squeezed around her, head tangled in her hair. Stiff at first, Evelyn was taken aback. Her own arms slowly wrapped around, hands hovering for a moment over the woman’s back. While neither were ever affectionate as mother and daughter, Evelyn was bonded to Lizzie by one mutual understanding. One was birthed by a whore and one was a whore. “It’s not going to be okay,” Evelyn said, resting her hands against her back. “It’s going to be horrible.” She could tell the woman was crying from how her shoulders twitched and chest heaved.

“I know,” she said, furiously nodding. “I know, I-I know….” Lizzie did her best sniffing, and wiping the wetness from her face, but Evelyn grabbed her hands. It was okay to cry. Everyone did it. Especially when life handed you a reason with no explanation. “I’m, I’m fine-”

“Let’s sit.” Evelyn walked Lizzie to an empty waiting area that was just as gloomy as the corridor. They were quiet for a while, studying everything there was to study; paint chipped wall, door frame, the chairs, and a lopsided painting of the Dover cliffs. But when Evelyn turned her head, eerily sat next to her was a teddy bear. It was a faded brown with a worn out face. Dried tears left specks of crusty, hard fur. It and her stared at one another for far too long until she turned and found something else to get lost in. “He’ll come-”

“He loves you,” she commented, slowly looking at her. “Out of everything in the world, he loves you more than anything-”

“No.” Perhaps it was true, but Evelyn couldn’t afford Lizzie going down that direction. “No, he loves everything the same, Lizzie. If it was me in that room, he would have been just as conveniently occupied-”

“He’s affectionate with you-”

“My father’s affections are spread thin.” Evelyn looked at Lizzie, forcing a small, thin smile…lips pressed and face tight. She shook her head. “We all fight for what isn’t there. You, me, Charlie. If I was older and wiser, I would have told you none of it was worth it. Him, it, us…none of it.”

Lizzie for the first time allowed herself to laugh. It was awkwardly placed among the hospital grounds, but nonetheless, it was a laugh of sorts. “I would have been just as stupid-”

“Well, if you look at it this way,” Evelyn snorted. “Married John and you still would be without a husband.” As the words came out of her mouth, she regretted it, but Lizzie laughed trying to soak up any humor she could in distraction. Shortly after, they went back to sitting in silence, soaking up their thoughts. Perhaps trying to numb themselves in the midst of it. Evelyn felt so much she was numb. 

Sometime around midnight, Ruby had been moved to a different room. One where the family can see her under precautions. Lucky for Evelyn, she had received the vaccine as a child unlike Ruby. They had come out just in 1921 and just a short year later, made their rounds. Lizzie had fallen asleep, slumped in the waiting room chair. She almost woke her up, but decided against it, wanting to slip into the little girl’s room herself for a short moment.

And it was a short moment because Evelyn couldn’t bear to look at such a small life withering away. She slid in the room. It was the first time she saw Ruby for a few days and even then, she’d been thinner looking. Her feet stopped under the threshold, feeling her heart sink down to her stomach. “Ruby,” she whispered, not knowing what she could expect back. The last time the two sisters chatted freely, it’d been about fairies. 

First, it was a sneeze and Evelyn helped her blow her nose. Then it was a cough and Evelyn went into her little room with some water. Finally, it was the fever and after the fever, the infection spread over her little body. Both were too busy. Evelyn would never tell a grieving mother, you were also too busy. Her father was too busy neglecting family for work and Lizzie was too busy caring for a man who neglected her. When the fever got too high, she called the doctor. Funny enough, they were home. Both of them in their own world. Own repeating cycle. Tommy had asked why didn’t you tell us? Who could between all the drinking and yelling? But that was then when they were naive of it all.

Evelyn pressed by the threshold and quietly sat down on the edge of the bed. The young girl slept still, head lifted. She’d never seen a child so drained of life; pale and almost tinted blue. Her breaths were spread out and wheezing. Sometimes they’d be like little gasps for air, trying to cling onto whatever was left. Affectionately, Evelyn rubbed the girl's legs to get some circulation moving and propped her up better. She was still fashioning the braids from a few days ago. “You look so pretty, Ruby,” she whispered, sliding to the floor to kneel at the bedside. “I wish I brought a blue bow…I’ll put one in your hair for you’ll always be wearing a blue bow.” 

Evelyn thought back to the time she took her shopping in Birmingham. Ruby had just turned five. Look, they have a pink one for your hair. She would have looked so cute with pink. Ruby had taken one look at the pink satin ribbon and turned, pointing to the blue one, I want the blue one. “I’ll always get you the blue one,” Evelyn said when the memory ended and she was left staring at the still girl. Tears leaned heavy on her eyes waiting to fall down her cheeks. It would be the first time Evelyn would have allowed herself to cry, but not for long. She placed a lingering kiss on the girl’s cheek before leaving. When she opened the door, Lizzie had just reached for the door knob. But they only shared a quick glance before Evelyn went back to the seating area.

The bear had seemed to been moved, so when she walked back in, it’d been staring at her like the devil. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” she groaned, swiping it off the chair before sitting down. 

Sometime between then and whenever Tommy came, she fell asleep. He peeked in before sliding into the waiting area, kneeling by her sleeping side. Despite being twenty-four years old, Evelyn was still short and able to make a makeshift bed out of chairs, curling up. He was his girl. His baby still. After everything, Tommy still looked at her as he did when she was eight. His calloused, shaking hand rested against her cheek for a moment, his thumb making circles. “Love,” he whispered, placing kisses on her forehead. 

Evelyn jumped awake a bit, propping herself up with her elbow. In a tired voice, she said, “you should have been here-”

“I know-”

“No, dad.” Dad. Tommy felt that knife go through him. It had always been daddy, but never dad. “You should have been here!” The words came out like hisses through clenched teeth. She sat up, ignoring the cushion imprint on her cheek. Tommy couldn’t argue with that. He knew. Tommy looked down, swallowing, nodding.

“I had work-”

“Work,” she scoffed. “Ruby is in the hospital…she’s-.” Evelyn stopped talking, noticing the red puffiness around her father’s eyes. She knew then. “Why are you here with me? You should be with your wife-”

“You should go home-”

“You’re deflecting-”

“You should go home,” he repeated, tone a bit more serious. “I’ve called Isaiah to pick you. If you want to have a fight, we’ll have a row when I come home later. Alright?”

Evelyn shook her head. “No.” She was incredibly tired of his shit. “No, dad, nothing is alright.” She slid from the chair and draped her coat around her shoulders, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Tommy looked over at her. “Remember when you were eight, and you told me something.” Evelyn paused at the door, rolling her eyes to herself before tiredly turning to her father. He was still kneeling at the chair. “You said…you said to me, do you remember? We were laying in the field and it was the first time I had taken you on the caravan-”

“What are you getting at? Huh?” she rushed him, fixing her bag on her shoulder. “I know, we went up north…it was the edge of the season and the mist…we got really wet laying in the grass. But I don’t understand what any of it has to do with you not being here!”

He got up, striding over to her, pointing, “you said…daddy, it’s me and you-”

“Because at that point, you were all I had,” she snipped back. “But guess what, I’m older now and my circle is bigger. I have other people, and in fact, out of everyone…it seems I have you less.”

Tommy cocked a brow. “No, no…you said, in some shape and form with your little girl words…daddy, it’s me and you, and no matter what you do, I will always be by your side.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“You did,” he said, pointing. “You said that…it was misty and in September of 1918…In fact, I had adopted you just a month later. Shortly before that, I had came home from France-”

“I was eight,” she sighed. “You can’t hold something against me from when I was eight-”

His hand reached up and massaged her cheek. “I’ve held people for less-”

“Well, you fucking know what, dad.” She swatted his hand away. “That promise wears off when you start to neglect the only people who still love you. And quite frankly, loving you, it’s hard…it’s fucking tiring. Exhausting. You never know the meaning of accountability. You know what you do?” Tommy swallowed, his hand instinctively gripping her wrist. Perhaps deep down he was afraid she was going to leave. Go somewhere further than home. Somewhere he could no longer grab her. 

Tommy closed his eyes and sighed. “You don’t understand…no one hates me more than-”

“No one hates you, daddy,” she said. “We're just tired. Everything we have was not worth the cost of what it took. Everyone else is gone.” In one way or another, everyone else was gone. She slipped from his wrist and started to leave.

That is when he said, “I’m glad it wasn’t you-”

“That's an awful thing to say right now,” she whispered. “That was my sister-”

“I loved her…love…and my heart hurts so much right now,” he explained. “But if it was you, I’d be better off dead-”

“And that’s why I mean.” Evelyn had to choke down the tears. It was years of stress and trauma coming forth. Discreetly, she held onto the door frame. “You don’t understand…it’s too much! Daddy, it’s too much…I’m your fucking daughter! But after Grace died, I became everything! I became Charlie’s mother, your wife, your sister, your fucking mother! I became your nurse, your caretaker, your therapist, your fucking everything. It’s been ten fucking years, daddy, and I’m tired…I’m so fucking exhausted!” She walked over to, her hands gripping his arms. “I’ve lived through every stage of life for everyone, but myself…”

Tommy was hardly impressed. He knew what she was saying, but couldn’t accept it. Because he was selfish. “Have I not given you everything you’ve ever wanted? That is your problem, Evelyn, I raised you spoiled…and I will continue to fuckin’ spoil you because it’s too fuckin’ late. So what? I asked you when my wife died to help with your brother? Huh? Is that it?” He pinched her chin. “Do you not remember how you’d sneak out all the time? Get in trouble? Party and drink? I’d have to come pick you up from some random fucking house at three o’clock in the morning! So, don’t give me that bullshit, Evelyn…you lived your youth just fine. You know what I did with mine? Worked and then I went to fuckin’ war…So, I’m sorry, out of all your fun times, I asked you to hold a tad bit of responsibility. Go home-”

“Aunty Polly was always right about you,” she scoffed in disbelief. “You lack all sense of accountability. I had to sneak out because that was only time I was free-”

“And I never once punished you for it,” he interjected. “Never striked you, grounded you, hardly ever yelled at you…Out of everyone in my life, you are the only fucking person I’ve forgiven without consequence.”

Evelyn pushed away. “That’s because everything else has been a punishment. My friends from school are married…I was supposed to go to university, but you needed me home. All the men who wanted to marry have found other wives. Daddy, I am left behind because I’ve devoted my whole life to being your emotional lap dog, and what's sad is, you don’t even understand!” She paused to swallow, taking deep breaths. Tears had dripped down her cheeks, falling to the ground. “Daddy, you only have three people left…me, Uncle Arthur, and Aunty Ada…and some of us already have one foot out the door.” 

Tommy nodded, rolling his eyes slightly. He dug into his pocket for a cigarette. “Maybe my curse is my ambition.”

“And mine is that I love you too much,” she replied. “I love you so much that I’ve never left and I probably never will. So I will suffer until you die…I will watch you kill yourself little by little, drink and smoke, and sleep with women you can never afford to love. I will stand by and watch you wear people down until they die, and then have to put you back together because you realize your guilt. It’s a fuckin’ cycle.” Evelyn took a deep breath, fixing her coat before turning away. “Daddy, I love you, but I promised you that when you were making illegal bets on horse races. Not neglecting us for politicians.”

“What do you want me to say, Evelyn?” he asked. 

“Nothing. I want you to say nothing,” she said. “But I fucking swear to God, if you bring that blonde headed bitch back to our home and fuck her like you did the night Ruby went into the hospital, you’ll see a side of me you’ve never seen-”

“Daughters don’t get in their father’s-”

She looked at him once more. “I’ll fucking cut her head and stick it on the pillars of the bridge in London like 1600. And with her blood, I will write your fucking name….”

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi! How are you doing?

I've never made inquiries before. Could you write about the Thomas' daughter's allergy to tobacco? A strong cough and watery eyes when someone nearby smokes, which began from the first days of her life

I hope it won't bother you. Love your writing💗

Dear Anon,

You could never bother me love! Thank you for saying you love my stuff <3 hopefully, you enjoy this too! Thanks for writing in and for waiting!

Warnings: Mentions of difficult birth, Lizzie being ill, lots of tension, happy ending peaky related themes.

Allergies

He looked down at the little bundle of blankets. A small pudgy ball protruded from the top of it and Thomas wondered how something could look so new and yet so old at the same time. She was a darling little girl who had a shocking resemblance to a red, puffy, Whinston Churchill. Then he remembered what John, Ada, and Finn had looked like when they were born. Just as small and wrinkled. Thinking of where she had just come from it made sense.

Panic shot through him as he thought about Lizzie. He pushed those emotions down and tried to focus on his daughter. Again the fear of knowing she might be the only thing left of his family caused his stomach to lurch. Her eyes opened and she glared up at him. 

“You look squished, but you're still the prettiest girl I have ever seen.” He whispered. She seemed to take comfort in his voice and he realized he should probably pick her up and hold her. Poor thing should be stuck to her mother’s side. He picked her up and enjoyed the way she wiggled against him. 

She had no idea who her father was, only that he was her father and that she was safe there. For a moment Thomas was grateful he had been one of the older boys in the family. Being with children was not difficult for him. 

He walked over the windows and looked out at the dark sky. 

“Your mum is a tough lady, eh? Don't have to worry, she’ll come back.” He said in a low voice, was it to comfort the baby or himself, he wasn't sure. Feeling the heaviness in his heart threaten to take over he reached into his pocket and lit a cigarette with his free hand. 

He took a long drag feeling the smoke pull him together. He blew the smoke over his shoulder away from the baby. 

Looking back outside he heard a little cough. He looked down at her and was engulfed with that mixed feeling of pity and the urge to laugh. 

Her little red face was even redder and her eyes were glassy as she started to cough. Thomas wasn't sure what had caused it for a half second till he brought the cigarette back to his lips to hold her with both hands. 

“Fuck.” He said in a defeated tone. To confirm his suspicion he blew a small puff closer to her only for her to erupt into a coughing fit which she started to fight to breathe. Panic shot through him knowing all too well what that feeling felt like. Before flashes of the war could break into his mind he quickly put the cigarette out and brought her over to the window opening it. He rocked her back and forth and eventually, she settled against his chest. 

No smoke. He thought about how often a cloud of smoke followed him. It was as apart of him as his own shadow. How on earth was he to manage this? Remembering how scary the sound of her breathing was he have to figure it out. 

He’d promised Lizzie and Pol no more liquor but now he’d have to ditch smoking too. A flare of frustration ran through him. The whole situation was a big mess from day one. His thoughts became harsh and only broke when he looked down at the center of all his problems. 

The center of all his problems, and his entire universe. Guilt poured over him like cold water. It had been a long and uncertain birth, and now Lizzie was somewhere broken. 

Broken and unreachable. She was in the hands of the doctors now. He held his little daughter closely and watched her eyes flutter as he said a prayer for his new wife. 

______________________

Polly was irritated. She wasn't asked to attend the birth which was fine, but she wasn't sure how much support Lizzie would have gotten from Thomas and the hospital staff. 

Hospitals were places for death and sickness, not for bringing life into the world. Too many lost souls wandering around. She sighed and gave up waiting. Picking up the phone she dialed the hospital. 

The news she expected came through clearly over the receiver. Close family was now able to come and visit, except they clearly didn't think to call her to tell her everyone was okay. 

Polly threw on her coat and stepped out in the brisk early morning air. Arriving at the room and looking around she could see that everything was certainly not okay. 

Thomas’s hair was striking up from his fingers running through it. He was pacing the messy room with a small bundle attached to his shoulder. Coming into the room she walked up behind him and saw the dark blue eyes of her niece peering over his shoulder. 

Thomas turned and almost walked right into her jumping out of his skin. No one had ever been able to sneak up on him before. She wasn't sure what to say till she realized that Lizzie, nor her things, were in the room. Her heart wrenched but seeing the fright in Tom’s eyes she pulled herself together. 

“Fuck sake scared the life out of me.” He grumbled quietly.

“Sorry, love.” She said kindly, in a tone she hadn't used since he was small. “Do you want me to take her for a moment? Have you eaten?” She started fussing over him and was grateful that he had accepted her help. 

She took her niece and tears prickled in her eyes. 

“Lizzie is going to be alright.” His voice was tight. “She’s going to be in recovery for a few days though. When she wakes up we can take her over.” He looked out the window to avoid Polly’s gaze. 

“Are you alright?” She asked hesitantly not wanting him to snap in front of the baby. 

“She’s too small, she won't take a bottle but she’s hungry, and she’s allergic to smoke.” The last part caused the edges of her mouth to curl. The image of Thomas being up all night without drinking or smoking was not something she thought would ever be a reality. 

“Pol Im serious she gets really ill - her lungs just” His voice caught again and he went back to staring out the window. 

“I’m not laughing.” She said calmly. “I’ll have some people go the house to air the place out.” This seemed to make him relax a little. 

Just then she started to cry out, Thomas automatically reached out for her and then relaxed when Polly waved him off. Poor thing was hungry and Pol was grateful she came out as round as she did. She had enough on her to wait a while for Lizzie’s milk to come in. 

She brought the bottle to her lip and laughed as she stopped crying to glare up at her. 

“You look just like your da.” The baby’s face stayed just as stony when a nurse came through to tell them that Lizzie was up and requesting them. 

She followed Thomas anxious to look over Lizzie and make sure they had done a good job with her. 

Her dark eyes greeted them. Her face was puckered from an argument and Thomas had never been happier to see someone in his life, this Polly was sure of. 

She looked shocked, eyes wide as Thomas bent down to hold her tightly. She gave Polly a look and it took a lot to keep from laughing again. 

“Here she is now.” Pol brought the babe over and moved to the chair in the far corner of the room. She said a prayer thankful that their little family had made it through the night. Her prayer was interrupted by Lizzie's voice.

“What do you mean I can’t smoke?!” Lizzie hissed at Thomas and Pol got worried they would scare the babe. “Bring the doctor in I’m going to cut him myself.” 

“It’s not you, it’s her. She’s allergic. Gets really sick - Her lungs - You can’t - she just-” His voice was wavering again and Pol was relieved that Lizzie registered that he was scared for the little girl. 

“Oh, she was ill?” Now Lizzie’s voice was worried.  

“Yeah, but I caught it quickly.” He reassured her. “Pol is going to get people to clean the house and air it out.” 

“Oh, no. Tom.” Her voice got high and she clutched the little girl tightly. “It must have been a horrible night.” 

“No, no it was nice. She’s excellent company. Just glad you are alright.” He put on a brave face and Pol had hope that this experience would only bring them closer. 

She had cleaners go through the house and brought them food. Surprised that Thomas took the time off work to stay by Lizzie for her recovery. The family struggled at first but adapted to smoking outside. 

It was a curse till she was a teenager, in which Tommy rejoiced knowing it kept her far away from pubs, parties, and nightlife. Not to mention if she had friends over to play or for sleepovers they had to come to their smoke-free house. If a boy wanted to take her out for dinner, they ended up eating alone in the kitchen at the house as restaurants were no better than pubs. 

(Unfortunately, the only boy in all of England that didn’t smoke happened to be the son of Alfie Solomons)

(Hehehehe can’t help but sneak that pairing into everything I write)

Hope you enjoyed it love! <3

[sl-newsie]

Attention fans of American Woman!

I need your input! Should I write the ending I originally had planned for Verena and Thomas, or should I wait to write a more accurate one when the movie comes out?

Please let me know!

@meadows5

[kmhappybunny240]

The French Nurse

Chapter 3

Tommy finally went home close to midnight after crying in Polly arms. It felt like a weight has been lifted off his chest. He thought seriously about what Polly said and decided to start with a letter. He didn't think he would send it but if writing down years worth of pain, anger, and heart break would help then he would do it. It might even stop the dreams.

When he entered the house most of the lights were off. Only a few dim lights lit the hallways so he could see. Tommy decided to sleep downstairs on the other side of the house in a small guest room. It was more for the servants but he didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone and didn't want to talk to Grace till the morning. He stripped down to his boxers and undershirt and got under the covers. Tommy just laid their trying to turn off his brain. All he wanted was sleep. As he was drifting off he could hear the floor creek and faint humming. Tommy froze and kept his eyes closed. It could be Grace but she didn't know that song. Only one person knew that song.

He felt the bed dip on the left side and a warm hand touch his.

"Mon amour pourquoi es-tu si tendu? "

(My love why are you so tense)

He felt her hand caressed his face. Her thumb rubbed his bottom lip. It felt wonderful. He hasn't had this experience since he stopped smoking opium . He missed this so much. He never wanted it to end. Tommy opened his eyes and there she was illuminated by the moonlight shining through the window. She was beautiful. Her long hair was down to the middle of her back. He had always loved it that way. She had a white silk night gown on that accentuated her breasts. She just smiled at him. There was worry in those brown eyes of hers. She knew something wasn't right with him.

"Its been so long since you've conjured me up. Why now?"

It was an obvious question with an obvious answer but he couldn't speak. He just stared at her.

" If you want me Tom then come and get me. You know where I am. Nothing can stop you. Thomas Shelby can take whatever he wants. "

"I didn't get you." was all Tommy could say.

"S’il vous plaît mon amour venez me trouver, j’ai besoin de vous tout autant que vous avez besoin de moi"

(Please my love come and find me. I need you just as much as you need me)

Olivia leaned in and gave Tommy a passionate kiss. Tommy leaned back so he could breath. She had the biggest smile on her face. He just held her.

"Go to sleep my love. "

Tommy just held her and fell asleep. It was so relaxing. He dreamt of Olivia and him in an old cottage on the country side. Sitting in front of a fire with a few kids running around the room. This was the life he wanted. This was the woman he really wanted. When Tommy woke the sun was up . He slept all through the night, which was a first in a very long time. No nightmares no night sweats. He actually felt refreshed. He got out of bed and dressed himself. He didn't want to see Grace right now but he had to shower and get clean clothes. He went to their bedroom and slowly opened their door. Thankfully it was just the maid in the room changing the sheets.

"Good morning Mr. Shelby. Ms Burgess just went down for breakfast."

That's good. Tommy could ignore her for just a little while longer.

"Thank you May. Please bring some breakfast to my office. I will be in there in about thirty minutes."

" yes Mr.Shelby. "

Tommy got into the steaming shower and washed the previous night away. Olivia was so real. He could feel her smooth soft skin. He could smell the faint lavender she always smelled like. Her lips were the same as he remembered. He held her while he fell asleep and the dream was so real too. That was the life he wanted. Those thoughts were very dangerous for Tommy. He had Grace and was going to build a very long life with but Olivia was also right. He could have what ever he wanted. He felt that urge to call Peter and ask for Olivia number. He felt like she needed him even after all these years. Tommy got out of the shower and dried off. He went to the sink and prepared to shave. He looked at himself in the mirror.

"Get it together you fool. She is in France and doesn't need you. She wasn't real . Stop this and move on." Tommy told himself. If he had to look into the mirror every morning and tell himself that than he would. He has to move on with Grace. If he didn't then all of this would be a waste of time. He didn't want to admit that Polly was still right about Grace. He put so much on the line for her, he didn't want to fail. Tommy made his way to his office and locked the door. He didn't care how long it took he was going to write that letter .

"Tu es sûr e de vouloir me laisser partir ?"

(You're sure you want to let me go)

Tommy looked up and saw Olivia. She looked just like she did in the picture Peter took. Simply beautiful .

" I have no choice. I have to let you go. I'm starting to lose my mind. It hurts to much to think or see you. "

"tu as toujours le choix il suffit de suivre votre coeur."

(You always have a choice just follow your heart.)

Tommy just ignored her and wrote . He wrote till sundown. His hand hurt and so did his eyes. He felt better when he finished the letter. It was five pages. He would be going to london soon with Grace and his family. He would hand the letter over to Peter to mail and then be done with his past . He could just move on .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grace was relieved to get the call from Polly that Tommy was all right and on the way home. Her relief quickly turned to anger. How dare he just get up and leave her like that. She desperately needed to find out what triggered Tommy. She went to his office and looked around. She opened drawers, looked through all of his papers on the desk. She had to know. She got to the bottom drawer when headlights flashed through the windows. She quickly put everything back into place and ran upstairs to their bedroom. She listened and faintly heard the front door slam shut and nothing else. Grace opened the bedroom door and tip toe to the staircase to see Tommy walking towards the other side of the house. Of course he was sleeping down there and ignoring her once again. She wasn't gonna put up with his shit. In the morning she would confront him and get to the bottom of his behavior. She had gotten this far and she was so close to the finish line . She wasn't going to fail. She had to marry Tommy it's what she deserved.

It was breakfast time and still no Tommy. She held on her fork so tight she almost bent it. That's it she was done. She got up and stormed out of the dinning room. She noticed one of the kitchen girls taking a tray towards Tommy office.

"What are you doing with that tray." Grace snapped at the poor girl. She was startled and almost dropped the it.

"Mr. Shelby requested to eat his breakfast in his office ma'am."

"Do you know where he is now?"

" Upstairs ma'am "

Grace rolled her eyes and quickly hurried upstairs to their bedroom. She opened the door and heard the shower turning off. She took a minute to compose herself and put on her best worried look. As she went to open the bathroom door she heard him talking. It was muffled but she could make out she is in France and doesn't need you. What in the hell did that mean. Who was in France and who is she. Grace went to her side of the room where her closet is and hid while Tommy came out of the bathroom to his closet. She watched through the crack of the door while Tommy went back into the bathroom with his clothes. She quickly got out of there and headed back to her breakfast. Grace was seething on what she heard. How could this be happening . She honestly didn't think Tommy would cheat on her but now she had major doubt. The only women she knew of was Lizzie and May but they aren't in France. This all happened after his meeting with that Peter guy.

It was like a cold bucket of water was dumped on Grace. It suddenly hit her . Only one woman from France Tommy knew and it was Olivia. The woman who Tommy called out for during the night. The woman who was just a friend during the war. He supposedly hasn't seen her in years. This was bad. Tommy was dreaming and calling out to her. That meant she meant and still means more to him than a friend. Dear Lord what is she gonna do now. That woman is out there and poses a threat to her relationship to Tommy. There is absolutely no way she was going to let some past love ruin her happy life. Grace just sat at the table and tried to form a plan. When they go to London she would get Peter alone and ask about Olivia. She was also going to contact some old friends in Ireland to dig into the woman past. She didn't want to return to her spy ways but she was left with no choice. She had to be very careful in case Tommy or any other family member found out. If they did then surely she would be cast out of England and never see Tommy again. She also had to get pregnant before the wedding. Grace didn't care if she had to get him drunk and tie him to the bed. She was going to be all over him all the time. This was her future and no one was going to fuck with it.

~~~~~~~~ LONDON~~~~~~~~

It was a sunny Saturday morning and Olivia just laid in bed. She was waiting for her usual wake up call. She was bone tired by the time Friday rolled around and was excited to have a relaxing day with oscar. She had to work in almost all of the departments . Monday and Tuesday she helped deliver babies. Wednesday was spent in the operating room, which was a highlight of the week. Thursday she spend in the children's ward. Friday was very interesting. Olivia was asked to stitch up a man. She was a little annoyed that she was pulled away from going home early just to put stiches in until she met the patient. When Olivia entered the room the junior nurse was cowering in the corner and on the verge of tears. The girl ran out of the room and Olivia quickly introduced herself to the man and got to work. Right as she was threading the needle she heard the man grumble in a different language. Yiddish from what little she understood. He called her something that sounded like French tramp and that really ticked her off.

She looked up and fully took him in. This man looked and grumbled like a bear. He had a scruffy beard and blue eyes. He was well built and his hands looked rough. He had several rings on and a small tattoo near his thumb. It was a black crown. She didn't know what it stood for but it was obvious he was a criminal , most likely in a gang. She looked him directly in the eyes and told him off.

"If you have a problem sir let me know. I can stop the stitching and you can walk right out." She poked the cheek wound for emphasis. He growled.

" Or I can fix you right up and have you on your way in no time. It's your choice. "

He stared at her like he was dumbfounded. He apparently hasn't had many people stand up especially a woman.

"You speak yiddish?"

" I understand some. Enough to know an insult. I suggest you shouldn'tcall me a French tramp when I'm about to close your facial wound with a very sharp needle. If I'm not careful you could have a very ugly scar. "

"Mmhhhmm." Was all he said. That was Olivia's cue to get to work. She was half way done when he spoke again.

" The only French women I have known were whores. "

"Well I'm not one. I've have worked very hard to get where I am. I'm assuming you fought in the war. That's why you know French women as only whores."

" Yea I fought. All of England did. I was in Paris once. Beautiful city and wonderful brothels too. "

She tugged on the thread a little to sharply after the comment. She quickly finished and put a small bandage on it.

" I'm all done. Keep the bandage on for twenty-four hours and keep dry for the next week. If any problems please get medical attention. An infection can get nasty very fast. "

As Olivia cleaned up she heard the man clear his throat. She turned around and he looked like he wanted to say something.

"You were a nurse over there weren't you."

Olive took a breathe. She didn't think he would take the moment to observe that. His face was very solemn and remorseful.

" Yes I was. My brother and parents also served in the medical field. "

He stuck his hand out.

"Thank you for helping me . I do apologize for insulting you miss."

Olivia was a little stunned by this. She stuck her hand out to shake his.

"You're welcome. I was just doing my job and thank you for apologizing Mr?"

" It's Alfie Solomon's but you can just call me alfie. "

"Alright Alfie. I'm Olivia. Now remember what I said. If anything goes wrong please see someone. I work week days so I can help if you want."

Alfie smiled at her and tipped his hat at her.

"Shalom miss Olivia ."

She smiled back and cleaned up. He was an odd fellow but for some reason she wanted to get to know him. He seemed like a man who was full of stories. He was obviously a gangster and she shouldn't want to be friends with him but she couldn't help it. Olivia chalked it up to being lonely. She had only been in London for two months now and hadn't made very many friends. She was friendly with her fellow nurses and her neighbors but the only real constant friend she had in the city was Peter. She was grateful and loved him dearly but she wished that she knew more people. There was a small part of her that wanted to hop on a train and visit Birmingham but was not ready for that at all .

Olivia rolled over and saw eight- fifteen on the clock. The alarm was running a bit late. She finally heard the hall floorboards creek and the door open. She closed her eyes and tried not to smile when she felt the bed dip. She felt a tiny hand on her shoulder and hot breathe in her ear.

"I know you're up mama."

Olivia jolted up and grabbed Oscar. He was howling with giggles as she covered his face with kisses and set him in her lap. He put his arms around her neck and gave a few kisses back.

"How could you know I was up? I was under the covers with my eyes closed."

" You are always up before me mama. " Oscar was starting to wiggle out of Olivia lap and started towards the door.

" We have to get ready mama it's a big day. We get to see horses with uncle Peter. "

Olivia grinned at how excited he was. Peter was taking them to a stable at the edge of town. It was hard leaving her horses back home in France but she really had no where to put them. She could put them up in a stable but the transportation and weekly coverage of their stay would cost too much. She was also worried they wouldn't be treated kindly. The horses always made Olivia calm and peaceful. It made her feel close to Tommy too. She knew Oscar would take to them instantly since it was in his blood. She remembers the stories Tommy told her of him traveling with his romani side. How much his eyes lit up talking about the fairs he went to as a kid. The horse races he had with his brothers and cousins. He felt truly free traveling. She can see that in Oscar. He was always on the run from dawn till dusk. He threw tantrums when he was made to go back inside. When one of the mares gave birth Oscar stayed with her all day. He cried when the new foal was born. He personally over saw the care of the new horse and had so much love and pride in his eyes. She knew that was all Tommy. Hopefully one day Oscar will meet Tommy and his family. It would be a wonderful thing to see him in his true identity. A Shelby .

Olivia got ready quickly. She wore trousers and a white shirt. Wearing trousers wasn't consider lady like but she didn't care much. There was no way she was going to ride a horse in a dress. She wasn't going to sit side saddle either. Olivia tried a few times as a child but slipped out of the saddle and was almost trampled by the horse. She thought is was ridiculous that society saw women as inferior fragile creatures who should only stay home. She knew not many men could stomach her job as a nurse. They couldn't stomach having to bleed every month. They certainly couldn't handle giving birth. She wanted to change her male pier minds but most of them were stuck in their ways. She vowed to teach her son differently. She wanted to make sure Oscar felt that women were very much equal to men. She held done a job while being a single mother. That was something she wanted her son to be proud of.

Within the hour they were off to Peter's. Oscar was bouncing in the backseat of the car. Thankfully when they arrived Peter was waiting for them outside.

"Good morning . I hope you are excited for today's activities."

" IT'S HORSE RIDING DAY!!!! " Oscar exclaimed at the top of his lungs.

"Pas si fort mon ange."

(Not so loud sweetheart.)

"Désolé maman , mais je suis si heureuse."

( Sorry mama, but I am just so happy .)

Olivia looked in the rear view mirror and smiled at how happy he was.

"Du solltest den Jungen leicht machen. Du weißt, dass Pferde in seinem Blut sind. Genau wie sein Vater.

(You should go easy on the boy. You know horses are in his blood. Just like his father.) Peter said with a little wickedness in his eyes. He knew he was pushing olivia's buttons with mentioning Tommy. He kinda had to now since his meeting with him. Peter knew the secret would be out soon. He could feel it.

Olivia rolled her eyes as hard as she could. Peter always encouraged the Shelby traits in Oscar when they came out. She had to curve it because he still had to have manners. She knew his stubbornness came from Tommy. Oscar was also getting smarter everyday. That came from both parents but his sneaky cleverness came from his father. That scared her. She didn't want him to be to smart for his own good.

"Er muss sich um seine Manieren kümmern. Sprich auch nicht vor ihm über Tommy . Nicht in irgendeiner Sprache."

(He needs to mind his manners. Also don't talk about Tommy in from of him. Not in any language.)

"Es ist wahr und du weißt es"

(Its true and you know it.)

"Maman, tu as dit que ćétait grossier de parler derrière quelqu'un dans une autre langue."

(Mama, you said it was rude to talk behind someone's back in another language.)

Peter laughed loudly but tried to cover it with a cough. That boy was certainly a Shelby.

"Alright everyone speaks English from now on. No more secret conversations." Olivia said sternly . Thankfully Oscar began to prattle on about the week he had. Peter enjoyed the conversation with Oscar because he had to tell Olivia about his meeting with Tommy a few weeks ago. He was saving that towards the end of the trip. He prayed that she would flip out.

After an hour of driving they arrived at the estate. It was a very classy yet homie place. It was owned by some Lord and had been in his family for many generations. There was a manor you could stay at over night and a lovely restaurant that over looked a magnificent garden and green house. The stables housed some of the world's top racing horses. It was an exclusive place to get into and a person could be in the waiting list for years. Of course it was Peter who got them in. It helps to befriend a judge and a few parliament members to get in.

Oscar flew out of the car once they stopped. Olivia went to grab him. She turned him around to face him.

"I know you're excited but you can't run off like that . Now stay with me and uncle Peter . We are going to eat a little breakfast before we ride."

" But we already ate some biscuits at the house. I want to ride now ! " Oscar made his displeasure known with a stomp and a pout. Oscar knew better than to throw a fit but he couldn't help it. He was only five years old. He wanted to ride now.

Olivia knelt down to his eye level.

"We will be here most of the day and I know you petit ami. You will ignore your grumbling tummy just to keep ridding as long as possible. Now we don't want you to go hungry now do we?"

" No I guess not. " Oscar said with a long sigh. Olivia and Peter couldn't hold back their smiles. The little guy was truly his father. She stood up and grabbed Oscar 's hand to walk into the manor. They were quickly greeted by the concierge and escorted to the sunroom for breakfast.

They ate a proper English breakfast. Olivia had to tell Oscar to slow down a few times so he wouldn't choke. He was practically vibrating with excitement when they finished and went towards the stables.

"Its good to see you Mr. DuBois." Alfred Pennyworth said to the little boy. Alfred ran the stables . He enjoyed the little boy's company . Alfred had been in charge of the Wayne manor stables for over 20 years and Oscar was truly his favorite child to of worked with. He wouldn't be surprised if he ended up working at the manor when he was older. "Hello Alfred . It's a wonderful day to ride isn't it."

All the adults smiled and laughed a bit.

" We have your usual horses ready to go. " Alfred said as they walked into the stables. Olivia hung back a little watching Oscar talk the men's ears off. She was startled by a kick in a stall door. She paused and saw a true beauty. A large black horse was huffing at her. She walked towards him and put out her hand. It walked forward and sniffed her. That brought a smile to Olivia's lips. Something in the horse's eyes felt familiar and calming. It was odd to her that she instantly thought of Tommy. She stroked his muzzle when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"He is a beaut isn't he?" Alfred said.

" He most certainly is. What is his name? "

"Mahogany boy. He is a retired race horse from Birmingham. His owner donated him. We are training him to work with disabled children and veterans and It's not just horses. They provide dogs for the blind and also send in dogs to visit sick children in the hospital. It's a wonderful charity that Lord Wayne started. "

It warmed her heart to hear that someone with Lord Wayne's money and status put it to good use and helped people in need. Olivia also got the urge to volunteer in the charity. What ever she could help with she wanted to.

"Alfred is there any chance I could ride him instead of mercy." She gave him the biggest smile and puppy eyes she could. There was just something about the horse.

"If you are sure. I can have him saddled up in a few minutes." Alfred wasn't to sure about taking him out but he had done well the last few times . Alfred couldn't say no to Olivia either. She looked like she was in love with him. He was quickly saddled and the group was off. Oscar was riding an older docile horse named lemon drop. She was an Appaloosa and Oscar adored her. Peter was riding Lemon drop sister Athena. He really wasn't a horse person and wasn't a very good rider but he decided to bite the bullet a while ago because it ment spending time with Olivia and Oscar. Peter didn't have much family left so he adopted Olivia as a sister and her son as a nephew. All he needed was for Tommy to marry Olivia and then he would have a brother in law.

Olivia was amazed at how powerful she felt on top of Mahogany boy. It was a calm power. Like she could ride into a city and take it over. All she needed was armour and a sword. Then she would be a warrior queen from the bed time stories Oscar loves so much. When the group started to pick up speed on the horse trail she could feel he wanted to run. There was a quiet ferociousness to him that was just like Tommy. A dangerous beauty. A large field came into view and Olivia made mahogany boy speed up. She could hear Oscar giggles and Peter whistle. Soon they were all racing to the end of the field. It was a major rush of adrenaline and felt incredible. She was disappointed to reach the end of the field. All she wanted was to keep running. Peter stopped next to her and then under the watchful eye of Alfred , Oscar trotted along with a giant grin on his face. What would make this moment perfect is Tommy being here .

"Oh mama that was so much fun. Can I ride with you mama. Please please please." Oscar pouted his lips as he begged his mother. He wanted so badly to ride with her. That would be the biggest horse he has ever ridden. Olivia wasn't too sure about it but since he would be in front of her she didn't see why not.

"Alright sweet heart come here." She grabbed him to sit in front and made sure he was secure . Alfred held on to lemon drop reigns and they slowly headed back to the stables. It was a leisurely stroll that had Oscar asking to go faster every few minutes. Once the stables were in view , mahogany boy sped up a little. Oscar was having the time of his life . They reached the stables and dismounted. When Olivia reached for her son she could tell he was a little disappointed that the ride was over. Back in France she would let him stay outside with the horses all day but here in England that wasn't possible. Olivia planned to look for country home soon. She wanted to wait a year of being in London before she bought anything. She didn't plan on moving them there permanently but it would be nice for a weekend home. Olivia had a nice nest egg saved up and felt ok with splurging a bit for a good home.

"Do I have to get down ? I really don't want to." Oscar pleaded with his mother. Before she could answer the stables hand Billy did.

"I can take him in the rink ma'am. He will be safe with me" Billy told her. Olivia wasn't sure but she had seen Billy ride and it looked like he knew what he was doing. Peter came up to Olivia , grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her to the fences area.

"Come on mum let the boy have some. We can watch from here." Peter wanted Olivia to loosen up a little and this would also be a good time to tell her about Tommy .

"Alright but sweet heart you listen and pay attention to Billy." She was worried but they not on her son's face was worth it. They entered the rink and and were galloping . Olivia and Peter leaned against the fence and just watch.

"He should be here. He should be the one up there with his little boy." A wave of melancholy hit Olivia . They were so close to Tommy and yet so far away at the same time.

"Do you think he would hate me ? I didn't go to Birmingham like I promised. I've kept his son from him. I've made such a mess of this." Olivia bowed her against the fence and held back the tears. If she did seek out Tommy would he even want to see her?

Peter hated seeing Olivia beat herself up. He had to tell her.

"Tommy still loves you Liv. Yes he would be hurt and angry but he would understand. That's his flesh and blood. One thing I know about the Shelby's is that they would never hate Oscar or turn him away." Peter turned to look at Oscar laughing and having the time of his life. He sighed and decided to tell her.

" Tommy hired me a few weeks ago to find you. "

Olivia eyes went wide and her face went pale.

" Oh dear God " Olivia whispered in horror. Peter grabbed her by the shoulders so she would face him.

"All Tommy knows is that you have become successful in your career and that you still live in France with your family. I didn't tell him about Oscar or that you are now in England."

It was hard for Olivia to focus on what Peter was saying. All she was thinking about was that Tommy now knew about them and could take her son away from her.

"Alright Liv focus on me. Take deep breathes and focus on me." She did what he said and took deep breathes to calm down. She settled after a few minutes.

" Tommy doesn't know you had his child and he doesn't know you are here in England. He just wanted to know if you were still alive. Ok . I never told him. " Peter held her face in both hands. He saw how scared she was. He could read her just like he could Tommy.

"He still loves you Liv. I could see it. You will always have a place in his heart. I know you're scared but nothing is going to happen unless you wanted it to ."

Olivia gently removed his hands from her face and wiped the few tears that ran down her cheeks. Her emotions were all over the place. She knows he would never sell her out or out her into harms way. But there was something nagging in the back of her mind. What if Tommy didn't believe Peter. What if he showed up on her door step or at her work. Olivia didn't think she could ever face him but maybe this was the push she needed.

"Is Tommy happy with his fiance?" It was a question she didn't want to ask but had to.

" Yes he seems to be but I'm not very sure about her something is off. Why do you ask? " Peter didn't know where this was going.

"If he is truly happy I don't want to blow up his life. I know that it's the right thing to tell him but what if he doesn't want us. I'm so scared that he wouldn't want anything to do with Oscar or he would be in his life out of obligation. They don't deserve to go through life being father and son simply because they have too. Oscar deserves a father's love."

"He will love Oscar with his whole heart I can promise you that. As for Grace , I can also promise that if she isn't accepting of Oscar then Tommy won't put up with that. You won't be blowing up his life. You would be bringing him joy. Tommy has been so broken since coming back. Well all have. I know that he would cherish every day he was able to have with his son." Peter took a breathe and realized where this was going.

" You want to tell Tommy don't you. "

"I have moved to London at the same time Tommy has decided to find me. Maybe it's God way of telling me I need to see him again and for Tommy and Oscar to me." Olivia felt like a brick was lifted off her chest. It was time for them to meet. She couldn't deprive any more time from her son. If Tommy rejected him then she would simply run his ass over . As much as she loves Tommy her son comes first and she would do anything to protect him.

"Would you set a meeting up for me and be there please?"

" of course I will help in any way you want me to. " Peter was so happy. Tommy was going to have the family he always wanted with Olivia after all these years. Peter grabbed Olivia in a tight bear hug. As they were holding each other there was a sound off to the side. Olivia looked into the rink and it happened so suddenly and yet it was also slow motion. Mahogany boy was in distress. He was making terrible noises like he was scared and started rising in his back legs. Billy was the first to fall off with a loud yell. Then it was just little Oscar on the horse. He was screaming and holding on for dear life. Mahogany boy ran to the other side still bucking and then there was a loud thump. Oscar fell off and under the horse. There was a another loud guttural scream. Olivia didn't realize it came from her.

Olivia was in a complete haze when they got to the hospital. She doesn't remember picking up Oscar little unconscious body of putting him in the car. She doesn't remember running into the hospital for help. They made it there in record time and thankfully they went to her hospital. She knew he would be in good hands. By a miracle Oscar only had a dislocated shoulder , bruised ribs, and a bump on the back of his head. He had to stay in the hospital under observation for twenty-four hours. They gave him some pain medication which knocked him right out. That's why Olivia was kneeling next to his bed praying. Praying that her baby would remain in this state and no other injury would pop up over night.

Olivia had felt fear during the war and when she gave birth but what she felt today was a new feeling. It was pure and raw terror. When he went under the horse she thought he was going to be trampled. Olivia didn't know if she could survive something bad happening to him. He was her whole world. When she went into labor she almost bled to death. When she thinks back to that day it breaks her heart to think she might of not gotten a chance to be a mother. He truly saved her life. Oscar was her purpose. He gave her so much hope .

Olivia got up with a grunt. Her knees hurt from kneeling but didn't care. Oscar was sleeping soundly and alive. That's all she cares about. He was going to be just fine. She sat on the bed and stroked his hair. He looked so much like his father. If she hadn't decided earlier than she would have now. Life was short and Tommy needed to know his son.

"Quand je marche dans la rue

La rue vers le Sacré-Cœur

Je me souviens de promesses

Au nom de l'amour

Je,je vais t'attendre lá

Viendras -tu pour moi?

Je vais t'attendre lá

Seulement toi

Olivia was singing her favorite song. The she used to sing to Tommy. When they got some time alone at night he would lay his head on her chest. Olivia would sub her fingers through his hair. It helped him sleep. He said her voice and heart beat was the only thing that kept the noises out. He didn't fear Germans were in the other side of the wall when he was in her arms. Olivia wanted to keep him in his arms and protect him forever. She knows she is not able to do that for Tommy but she is for Oscar.

" Les ombres grandissent

Et les foules s'effacent

Je,je vais t'attendre lá

Viendras-tu pour moi?

Je vais t'attendre lá

Seulement toi

Seulement toi"

"Olivia?"

she was still singing and watching her boy. That's when she heard the voice again. Calling to her.

"Olivia Du Bois? " The voice said louder. She froze for a moment. That voice sounded familiar but it has been years. She stood and turned towards the door. The sun was starting to set and the light hit his face like a portrait. It felt like a fist was squeezing her heart. He looked different but she knew it was him. He had those damn blue eyes. Only one other person had them and he was laying in the bed asleep. She saw an older woman come in the room calling his name. Her feet started to move and was suddenly in front of him. She could tell he thought she was a ghost. She raised her hand to his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. All she wanted was to kiss him.

"Yes Tommy it's me." Tears started to fall down her cheeks and he smiled. Then the older woman popped their bubble.

" Oh sweet jesus. This is the last fucking thing I need to deal with right now. "

[divinekangaroo]

drumfire - divinekangaroo - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | COMPLETE

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A Lizzie Stark modern AU origin story.

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Lizzie Stark/Original Character, Tommy Shelby Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, Freddie Thorne, Johnny Dogs, Ada Shelby, Mrs Stark (Mum), Catherine Stark (Sister), Euan Stark (Dad), William Stark (Cousin) | Modern AU (1990s), High School, Coming of Age, Exploitation, Racism, Class Issues, Sexual Content

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