#oc x john shelby

[novashelby]

Beg for It~TommyxReaderxJohn

Pairings: TommyxReader(3rd person)xJohn

MDNI.18+

Warnings: NON-CON, Degradation, humiliation, offensive language, spanking, and manipulation. PLEASE, PLEASE...take this warning seriously because I almost didn't post this. The vocal humiliation and degradation is ROUGH. Because it is, I just want to disclaim that, I, myself are against these actions in real life. However, this is purely fiction and for consenting ADULTS wishing to indulge.

Summary: When John Shelby goes to pick up the protection fee, he is met with the baker's sassy daughter. Not appreciating her attitude, Tommy and John teach her a little lesson.

Prompt: Beg for It

Word Count: 4,243

Please enjoy. I appreciate reblogs and comments. Likes are kind and thoughtful, and I appreciate you reading my work. However, reblogs really help writers out. So, please, considering rebloging.

It was a new bakery that many people in the city seemed to enjoy. Italian. Which always made the Shelby family slightly curious. But everyone assured them: a sweet family that always minded their own business. Even Tommy couldn’t find anything wrong about them-Italian mother, Italian father, American born daughter. Though, perhaps that was curious. But, really, the worst thing they have done was introduce the Brummies to this soft, decadent pastry. It was a fluffy bun stuffed to the brim with a soft, sweet cream. They sold out within thirty minutes every morning and by early afternoons most days, the shop was bare minimums with perhaps some breads and biscuits. 

The shop owners' daughter was left to clean after closing. That was her duty besides working the counter; clean the shop top to bottom. She'd just finished sweeping the floor when the door opened. Not realizing she had left it unlocked, she jumped to find a young man dressed well in a blue suit. Politely, he took off his flat cap and tucked it away under her arm, and bowed his head respectfully. Regrettably she winced, “I’m sorry, sir, but we are closed. But we have some leftover bread if you want to just take it.” She started to walk around the counter, leaving her broom leaning on the wall. He grinned, walking around the shop, looking around at everything. He took note of the small things and the big things. It was a nice place, he admitted to himself. Perhaps his aunt was right in praising it. 

She was packing up some bread when he finally paused and turned to her, toothpick twirling about in his mouth. He grinned and walked to the counter, leaning on it. Teasingly, he pulled the bag closer to him by his index finger before lifting it to his face. Almost mockingly, he closed his eyes and took a deep inhale, holding it before letting out a long, exaggerated, “mmmmmmm.” His eyes fluttered open and he gave a toothy grin. “Do you bake?”

She smiled, taking the bag back and taping it shut for him. “No. My father and mother…I do everything else. Cleaning, the counter, the money, the organizing. Keeps me busy. Out of trouble, they say.” 

That’s when he leaned in a bit closer wearing a grin that made her drop her smile. Despite being modest, his eyes still moved to her blouse as he said, “and are you trouble?”

“No.” She was a bit more curt with him, lips pursed. “But I heard you Brummie boys were a lot of trouble. What are you looking for? Something tells me you aren’t exactly looking for bread.” That’s when he chuckled to himself. Always the girls with the big mouths, he thought, looking back up to her before digging out a piece of paper. It had a money amount written on it. 

“Actually, it is I that has something for your father. Is he around?”

She grabbed the paper from his fingers, tearing it at the edge before her eyes skimmed over it. She had to lie. “No, you just missed him. He’s gone away to visit some family for the weekend. What is this?” 

“A little fee that businesses around here pay,” he explained, tone changing a bit. Sitting up, he straightened his jacket. “I’m John Shelby.”

She glared at him, jaw stiff a bit. “A fee? Pizzo. It’s fuckin’ pizzo!” She ripped it up in tiny little pieces. John watched her, amused. What a fighter, eh? In her hand was a pile of white flakes. She leaned down and blew. “Now, it’s fuckin’ snow! Merry fuckin’ Christmas, John Shelby, and you can go fuck yourself and your Pizzo….” John Shelby looked down at his jacket, flicking off the white specks, nodding his head. 

“Do you normally have such a mouth?” he asked, arching a brow. “Hm? Did your daddy ever tell you that you shouldn’t talk to others like that, eh?”

“And did yours ever tell you that you shouldn’t extort innocent businesses?” she mocked. “It's extortion. That is the actual term, asshole.”

“Extortion, fee, pizzo,” he shrugged. “All the same fookin’ outcome if you don’t pay it-”

“Oh!?” She laughed, amused. She grabbed a rum bottle from under the counter. The same type her father both drank from and used for baking. “What will happen? Hmm?” She started to walk around the counter. “Burn it down?” she mocked. “Oh, no! The big scary man is going to burn down my bakery cause he didn’t get his way.” She was walking towards him, finger poking at his vest-covered chest. Slowly, he backed up, eying her.

“It’s a protection fee,” he said. “Protect you and your family and business from-”

“From what? You? Please, you can’t fool me. I’m fuckin’ Italian. I know what pizzo is. I pay it, I keep my business. I don’t…you burn it down. But you know what, burn it right now, Mr. Shelby. Go ahead, hm? Be that big, scary gangster you are and burn it.” John was not going to entertain this. Crazy girl. He rolled his eyes and nodded for her to have a good day, but when he turned his back, he heard the rum spill to the ground and splash to him. In her pocket was a book of matches and she lit one. “Hmm? I’ll do it.” 

John cursed under his breath, rubbing his temple. Putting his hand up, he said, “okay, look…just put the fookin’ match down, alright. No pizzo…no pizzo!” Breathing got a bit heavier, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuckin’ ell, you crazy bitch! What is wrong with you?”  That is when she smirked and started to lower the match, throwing it to the ground. He jumped back, hollering. “What the fuck!?” But she laughed as the match sizzled and went out. It was water in the rum bottle. 

“What is wrong with me? Ha!” She dropped her smile and glared. “I’m fucking crazy and if you don’t leave my bakery, I will show you just how fucking crazy I can be, John Shelby.” He scoffed and put his hat on his head, leaving. The bakery shook as he was not shy about slamming the door. 

That night when she explained to her father about the predicament she was sure she handled it, but he was less than impressed. The next day, a few shillings in hand and a bag of bread, she was forced to go to the Garrison. “Apologize sincerely,” her father had warned. But she simply rolled her eyes. There was no way an apology was going to slip from her stubborn lips. 

She walked in, the pub empty except a familiar man at the counter, sipping a whiskey, writing some numbers in a book. She cleared her throat, and he paused, turning around. Snorting, he looked at her and continued writing. “Come here to burn the pub?” he asked in a mumble. 

“No.” She walked forward and slammed the bread on the counter before reaching in her little coin satchel. “Here. Though I don’t see it, my father is scared of you. Pathetic, really.” She put the fee on the counter and pushed it to him. He was about to say something when another man walked through double wooden doors, pausing.  

“You’re that baker’s girl, eh?” he asked, lighting a smoke and walking forward. “Called me this morning. Said you’d be here by nine.” Mockingly, he pulled out his gold watch and said, “ah, but it’s ten.” She scoffed, eyes about to roll, but he tapped on the counter. “Oi! Don’t look at me like that, girl.” He said ‘girl’ as if she was below him, condescendingly. His finger pointed at her. “You have a fuckin’ mouth on you, y’know? Talkin’ to me brother like that, eh.”

She grinned and looked down at John. “Told your brother? Aw, you must be the baby. Telling his older brother…oh, the mean little baker girl scared-” She jumped and yelped when Tommy hit the wooden counter again. That time was harder and louder. Her eyes slowly looked up at him as he made his way to her. 

“How old are you?” he asked, perching the cigarette between his lips. The smoke blew in her face, causing her to choke a bit.

Admittedly, she was a little scared when she noticed the gun in the holster. But she kept her attitude. “Seeing the wrinkles under your eyes, I’m a lot younger than you.” John paused, taking a deep breath, mouthing fuckin’ ‘ell. Little did she know her stubborn mouth was going to get her in trouble. 

Tommy took the smoke from his lips and stared at her in disbelief. He reached out and grabbed her cheeks, fingers pressing harshly into her skin. John watched, feeling his stomach drop when she pushed away and slapped him. Tommy laughed, head still turned and rubbing his cheek. “Fuckin’ ‘ell.” Looking back at her, he asked, “Daddy never taught you any manners, eh? Just walk around thinking you can act like a little cunt, hm?”

She spat at his feet and said, “definitely taught me not to let men put their fuckin’ hands on me. You got your money, I’m going to leave.” When she attempted to push past him, unapologetically bumping into his arm, he turned and gripped a handful of her hair. “Shit!” She hissed, struggling to regain herself, pushing at him. “Let go-!” With his free hand, he wrapped it around her throat just enough to make her panic. 

“You’re a fuckin’ brat,” he said, amused walking her to the back office. She kept telling him in a mix of grunts and pleads to let go of her, but he easily shut her up. He gripped her neck in a way that his thumb, pinky, and ring finger were pressing against her flesh, but his middle and index were shoved in her mouth. “There you go, shut up, hm?” He laughed as her tongue tried to pry his fingers out of her mouth. It was even more cute when she tried to speak and her words were just a string of gurgles. “Hmm? What is it, baby?” He moved his fingers around in her mouth and cooed. “I know, sweety. It doesn’t feel so nice being humiliated, does it? It’s okay, though. Mr. Shelby is going to be so kind, hmm? Okay? He’s going to teach you a little lesson so this doesn’t happen again.” He kicked the door to his office shut and moved her to the wooden desk. She fought against him, trying to push her body against his to throw him off. 

John could hear the commotion from the bar and slid off his stool, walking in and pausing at the door frame. Brow arched, he asked, “is this really necessary?” Tommy, tired, threw her on the ground and put his foot on the back on her left leg, telling her to stay. John shook his head. “She paid the money, let ‘er go, Tommy.”

Tommy, out of breath, gave his brother a look that was familiar. The one look that John couldn’t fight with. “What?” he asked, arching his brow. “John, lock fucking door and come…stop fuckin’ moving…and come here, eh?” John let out a long sigh and shut the double doors, locking them. When he walked over, Tommy took a seat back and grabbed his bottle of rum. “Get her over the desk-”

“Tommy,” John said, slumping his shoulders a bit. “What the fuck are you going to? Spank her?” When Tommy didn’t answer, John froze before cursing. “You aren’t-”

“You’re right,” he said. “I’m not, John, you are.” 

She sat up and backed herself up against the desk, swallowing as she looked up at John. When their eyes connected, she said, “I’m sorry…please don’t. I just want to go home.”  But John had to listen to his older brother. Kneeling, he gave her a sympathetic frown before hoisting her up. She struggled a bit, but gave up seeing that the doors were locked by a key. 

“Face her towards me, John,” he said, reaching for another smoke. John rested her body over the wooden desk, and when she looked at Tommy, he smiled at her. She flinched when he reached out and gently caressed her cheek, thumb teasing at her lips. “What a fuckin’ mouth on you, eh? Such a messy girl, hm? Open.” She sucked her lips in, in protest, shaking her head, but he simply pinched her nose. Struggling she kept her lips sealed until she had to suck in air. “Good girl,” he praised. “See?” Tommy shoved his two fingers in her mouth again, pushing them to the back of her throat. Gagging and drooling, she made a pool of mess on the desk. “See, John? She’s a good girl. Just only shuts her mouth at the wrong times.” John looked down at her in pity, but he would be lying if he said it wasn’t turning him on just a bit. “You never had anything in this pretty mouth before, huh? I can tell. That’s a good girl. Practice on my fingers.” That’s when she fought back, pushing away and spitting them out. Catching John off guard, she slipped from the desk, accidentally falling into the seat.

“You’re disgusting,” she said, wiping her mouth. 

Tommy slid back in his chair and got up, walking to his brother and gripping his face. The two had a short stair down before Tommy said, “can’t keep a fuckin’ girl half your fuckin’ size in place?” John looked off to the side, but Tommy forced him to look at him, slapping his cheek. “Oi! Listen to me, eh? You fuckin’ keep her in place or I’ll do it! Understand me, John?” John nodded and mumbled alright, Tommy.  “Good.” He turned to her and kneeled to her height, lifting up her chin. “You better hope he does what I tell him because you’ll not like what I do to you.” Those words sent a chill up her spine that caused her to be slightly more compliant. She allowed him to easily place her over the desk. “Look at me, sweetheart. I want to see those beautiful eyes…ah, good girl. Now open your mouth.” John pressed his lower half against her legs so she couldn’t move. She opened her mouth and took in his fingers. “Go on, practice. How would you suck my cock?” The way he said ‘my’ and not ‘a’ made her stomach curl. Was he going to make her do it? She obediently bobbed her head back and forth, not breaking eye contact. “You can do better…try harder.” His eyes fluttered up to John, amused. “Fuckin’ just gonna stand there?” She bobbed harder, sucking on them and swirling her tongue around his fingers. Drool was pooling from her lips. 

John rolled his eyes. “What would you like me to do, Tommy?”

“What are you, a fuckin’ virgin? Got to show you what to do? Take off your fuckin’ belt for one,” he said looking back at her, smiling. “Cause someone still needs her little arse spanked, huh? Cause someone’s father didn’t fucking do it. Huh? It’s okay…don’t be scared. Some girls like having their body abused like that. I think you may be one of them.” John’s hands slid up her quivering legs. She whimpered on his fingers, feeling John tickle her skin. His fingers hooked around the waist band and pulled south until he slipped them from her legs. John looked over the pink silk, thumb rubbing against the oval wet spot, a small grin on his face before he showed Tommy. Tommy pulled his fingers out of her mouth, a string of spit following. Her lips were a beautiful bruised red that made his cock twitch in his trousers. When he noticed her eyes drift down, he gently tickled her chin. “Don’t worry, sweety. You’ll get that soon enough when I’m sure you won’t bite.” He grabbed the panties and looked at the wet spot before showing her. “Look at this,” he said, smiling as if he was proud of her. “What is this? You either tinkled yourself or your little cunt is getting excited.” He brought it up his face and to her disgust, he licked it before grinning. “Such a dirty slut.”

Meanwhile, John was rolling her skirt over her ass, resting it on her back. It gave him a full, beautiful view of her ass and pussy. John grinned and looked up at Tommy, “I think someone enjoys being degraded.” His hands worked at his belt, sliding it off through the loops. It was pure leather. When his hand rested on her ass, massaging the soft, untouched skin, her body jolted. His hands were cold. John sighed. “I didn’t even start yet, babygirl.” 

“I think twenty would do her good,” Tommy said, balling up her panties. “C’mon, sweetheart, open your mouth up again…let me put these in.” 

“It’s going to hurt,” she whimpered, but didn’t protest, opening her mouth for him to gag her with her own panties. 

“That’s the point, babygirl,” John said, looking up at Tommy with a grin. He was starting to enjoy it a bit himself, remembering how much the girl pissed him off the day before. “Twenty?” Tommy nodded and looked back at her. 

“Yes, twenty,” he said. “Are you scared?” 

She nodded, unable to speak properly.

“Think of just how much more scared you would be if you didn’t pay that fuckin’ fee,” he said, touching her cheek, sliding it up to her hair. “Without me protecting you. Hm? Aren’t you happy you are here with Mr. Shelby and not getting your little cunt raped by some savage fucking Italian.” Her eyes started to well a bit and he pouted, mockingly. “Oh, sweetheart, I forgot…you’re Italian. Sorry, you kind of just look like a dirty little girl to me right now. You want me to stop? Yeah? You do?” She nodded, crying into the rag. He chuckled. “Then beg for it. Beg for me to stop.” She tried to yell the words through her underwear, but it didn’t come out. “Aww, you can’t, can you. John, go on. Twenty spanks…soft at first. We’ll at least be nice in that regard.”

John nodded. “Alright.” He gave her round ass once last rub and a love tap before spitting on her. His eyes studied the hand crafted leather belt, feeling it in his hands before raising it and bringing it down against her skin. It was a soft tap, and she jolted for the surprise more than anything. It was a little sting, nothing more. “One.” He waited a second before bringing it down again. “Oi!” He shouted. “Two! C’mon…count.” Through the fabric, she tried to count, but he was always one ahead of her. Sometimes he’d land one at a time then others, two. With each spank, he went harder as if he was getting angrier, hating her. But John just loved the sound of leather hitting her bare skin. Especially the way it looked. “Your arse is so fuckin’ red,” he moaned out, one handly unbuttoning his trousers, allowing his cock out. “Tommy,” he said, looking over to his brother. “After…after I’m done-”

“You still have ten more spanks,” he said, hand still cradling her cheek, wiping away her tears with a swipe of his thumb. “Doesn’t he, sweetheart? It’s okay. You’re taking them so well. Daddy is very proud of you.” The way he said daddy nearly made her toes curl. She moaned in the rag, eyes getting heavy. “I’m going to take such good care of you,” he whispered.

John sighed as his hand gently tugged eagerly at his cock. Her cunt was there and all he wanted was to rub it against her. But he raised the belt and from frustration, slammed it down hard. In pain, she screamed into the rag, fingers white knuckled gripping at the wood. There was a knock at his office, and through the wood, someone said, “Jesus, Tommy, what the fuck are you doin’ in there?”

Tommy sighed, but John answered for him, “fuck off, Arthur!” 

Tommy laughed and pinched her cheek. “Screaming a little too loud, princess. Did Johnny boy hit you too hard, hm?” She nodded and he frowned. “Alright, but it’s your job to keep quiet, eh?” She nodded, feeling completely submitted to him. If she wasn’t gagged, she would have said, with ease, yes, sir. “Good girl.” 

“What is going on in there, eh?” The door jiggled and John glared at him. “Why is the door locked, hm?” 

“I said, fuck off!” he hollered, spanking another skin splitting hit. Her eyes nearly bulged from her head as she tried not to scream. Tommy looked at John and put his hand up, silently telling him to calm down just a tad. The poor girl’s ass was blistering red and on fire. Tommy hadn’t expected his brother to get so worked up. 

“Arthur,” Tommy yelled, standing up and leaning into the girl. “It’s my other brother. I’ll be back, sweetheart. Be good to John, eh? Can you do that?” And she nodded, which made him smile. Sweetly, and surprisingly, he kissed her forehead, lingering there. Waltzing around the desk, he paused at John, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Just seven more.” John nodded. Something about spanking her made him feral. Made him want to shove her body against his bed, face pushed in the pillow. Tommy unlocked the door and slid out. 

When he left, John dropped his belt and leaned over her, hand around her throat. “You really fuckin’ pissed me off yesterday…. Ripping up my shite like that.” He pushed his cock between her legs, allowing it to tease at her lips. Feeling it there felt like hell. She tried to shimmy herself from his grasp, whimpering, but he was far too heavy. “What the fuck you think you’re doing, huh? Coming here with your smart mouth…not so smart now, huh? Your dirty panties shoved down your throat. You can’t even ask me to stop right now. I could do it, you know? Pissed me off so, so fucking bad…I could do it.” He started to move his hips up, his cock slipping between her lips, pushing up and rubbing against her clit. His breath shuddered. “Then you come in here like you fuckin’ own everywhere you step…And you didn’t even apologize. Get this fuckin’ rag out of your mouth!” He pulled it out and grabbed a fist of her hair, and made her sit up a bit. Immediately, she started choking and gasping for all the air she could. “Say you’re fuckin’ sorry.”

Choking on her tears, she cried out, “I’m sorry!”

“Say it again…say you’re fucking sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt.”

She had to pause, squeezing her eyes shut in shame. “I-I’m-”

“Get it the fuck out!” he yelled in her ear.

“I’m sorry for being such a disgusting little cunt!”

“Good,” he said, about to position himself when the door opened and locked behind him. He closed his eyes, cursing. Tommy walked around the desk, looking at his brother. “I finished the spanking….”

“Did you?” he asked, and John nodded. Tommy looked at the girl. “Did he?” She nodded. Tommy tsked and shook his head. “Are you lying to me, sweetheart?” When she nodded again, Tommy looked up at John. “Got a fuckin’ wife at home and you’re that horny? Get a new fuckin’ wife, eh? Take your cock and put it away.” John groaned, pushing away from the girl, fixing himself.

“Really, Tommy? You made me do this and you won’t let me finish?” he asked.

Tommy lit another smoke and said,  “no, your job was to spank her…never said to fuck the girl. You can leave. Arthur is outside waiting. You two need to go run some errands for me.” John rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath before heading out the door. When it slammed shut and locked, Tommy looked down at her. “Did he fuck you?” She shook her head. “Use your words.”

“No, sir,” she choked. 

He gave a quick nod, “good.” Tommy sat back in his chair and leaned back. “C’mere.” The girl paused for a second watching as he patted his lap before slowly climbing off the desk and into his lap. “Good girl,” he cooed, bringing her into his chest. “Rest against me. Don’t worry, we’re done with our little lesson. Did you learn anything?”

“Yes, sir.’

“And what did you learn?”

“To be a good girl.” Tommy smiled at that answer, cradling her in his arms. His hand danced in circles around her back while her head rested against his chest. “Can I go home soon?” she asked, feeling worn out and filthy from what had happened. Nevermind emotionally and mentally fucked.

Tommy looked down at her before he said, “no. I think you and Mr. Shelby will spend some more time together. Perhaps for the evening. How does that sound, eh?” He placed a kiss on her head and called her a, “pretty girl.” She couldn’t fight him. It was no use. Submitting, she snuggled into his lap, yawning. “And I think you and I can make a new arrangement in regards to the protection fee.” With that, he stood, holding her in his arms. “C’mon,” he whispered. “I’ll take you to my home and we’ll have a bath.”

[wonderlanddreamer]

Reader POV Masterlist

Main Lydia Masterlist

Edits, Drabbles & More

Multi-Chapter Fics.

Queen Of Kings - Nellie Ensor never expected to return to Small Heath, but fate had other plans. After her father's brutal murder at the hands of a ruthless gang, Nellie inherits the family business—a prize many would kill for. Torn between selling it off for safety and honouring her father's legacy, Nellie decides to stand her ground. Navigating a world steeped in danger, she finds herself entangled with the notorious Peaky Blinders. As threats loom and loyalties are tested, Nellie must find courage to protect her father's dream and carve out a place for herself in a world where survival is never guaranteed. In the heart of Birmingham, amidst the smoke and shadows, a legacy is about to be reborn.

Behind Enemy Lines - Fearless journalist Florence Fletcher is on a mission to expose the Peaky Blinders, but her relentless pursuit pits her against the dangerous and captivating John Shelby. When a greater threat looms, they must join forces, turning enemies into uneasy allies. Amidst the chaos and intrigue, sparks fly and forbidden passion ignites. Can they survive the shadows of Birmingham's underworld and find love, or will their secrets destroy them?

Blurred Lines - Florence Fletcher has always been a thorn in John Shelby's side, but when he finds her drunk and vulnerable on a night out, his protective instincts take over. As he steps in to help her, the hard edges of their contentious relationship start to blur, uncovering unexpected depths and hidden feelings.

[A modern spin-off of Behind Enemy Lines]

The Rook - Seeking refuge from his turbulent life, Tommy Shelby finds solace in The Rook, a quiet pub on Birmingham's outskirts. There, he meets Rosemary King, a barmaid whose sunny disposition offers him an unexpected sanctuary. Her kindness and warmth begin to thaw his hardened heart, creating a bond that takes the gangster by surprise. But peace is short-lived when Tommy's enemies track him to his hidden refuge, putting both The Rook and Rosemary in jeopardy. As danger looms, they must navigate the threats together, testing the strength of their growing connection. Can Tommy protect his newfound sanctuary, or will his criminal life shatter the fragile peace he's found?

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.”  Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips. 

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.”  Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.  

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face… 

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband.  “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

 “I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.” 

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.  

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

The three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and pungent scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses saturated with one unique sound: a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature

[aias-fxtns]

Recommended Authors༒︎ (Part 1)

Show them some love and support💋. Reblog, comment, and heart their posts/stories. (Drop other creators/authors down below so I can read them)

Cillian Murphy/Tommy Shelby or anything Peaky Blinders:

@garrison-girl-08 @brummiereader @ithebookhoarder @strayrockette @calummss @writeroutoftime @sneakyblinders @peakyltd @peakyscillian @zablife @shelbydelrey @blinder-secrets @moral-terpitude @little-diable @peakyswritings @look-at-the-soul @raincoffeeandfandoms @runnning-outof-time @wonderlanddreamer @mayfieldss @theshelbyclan @toms-cherry-trees @pherelesytsia @zodiyack @cillmequick @tommyspeakycap @multifandomwriter56 @disasterofastory

Credits to the creator of the divider: @bernardsbendystraws

[shelbystales]

Stay - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Word count: 4532

Requested by: @morrigan-crowmwell

Summary: Tommy realizes that despite him trying to avoid it, he loves and needs you.

Warning: angst, fluff and rough smut with dirty talk?

A/N: This was inspired by a brazilian song called "evidências", as requesteted. I hope you like it😘 .

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

He entered forcefully, pushing the door of your room open like a hurricane.

"Stop it," he ordered, pointing his finger at you.

You glanced at him, but your hands kept busy, packing your bags, shoving clothes into a bag that was clearly struggling to fit even half your dresses.

"I told you to stop," he said, approaching you and closing shut the door of your small wardrobe.

"Make me," you said irritably, trying to force the door open, but his hand on top of it prevented the process.

You rolled your eyes and carried on, your determined hands struggling with the stubborn zipper. You tried to wrestle the wardrobe open once again, a frown deepening on your face, but just as before, his hand on it prevented your success.

You sighed loudly, grabbing your bag from the bed and headed toward the door, ready to leave the scene.

He grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you from reaching the door, stopping you from leaving.

"Let me go!" you shout and struggle against his grip, but he doesn't let go of your wrist. His gaze seemed disturbed like he was out of himself. "Are you drunk?" you ask, pulling your hand, hating the fact that he's stronger than you.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, and you clearly notice the knot in his throat.

"Tommy, you're hurting me," you say as the strength of his grip on your wrist becomes stronger.

"You can't do this. You can’t leave me" he says.

"Why do you care?" you ask angrily, pulling your wrist as you feel he loosened his grip on it and took a step back.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of frustration and desperation. He runs his fingers through his hair, a sign of his internal struggle.

“Tommy, what the fuck? You can't just barge in like this and do this” you said angrily

he swallowed harshly and looked around the room, the same room he had been with you many many nights before. The same room where he sleep nestled against your neck, smelling your scent to prevent his fucking nightmares. The same room he told you he couldn’t be with you, that he didn't want to be with you. The same room he broke your fucking heart. 

“It’s not fair,” you added, letting go of your bag to fall loudly to the floor. 

“Fair?” he chuckled “life isn’t fair” he said frustrated. 

His response only fueled your anger.

It felt like he was dismissing your feelings, brushing them aside with his cynicism. You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him with a mixture of irritation and hurt.

"Life isn't fair? Is that all you have?" you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tommy clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides. His eyes held a storm of conflicting emotions – regret, anger, and an undeniable pain that seemed to cut through his tough exterior.

"It's not like that, ey" he said, his voice strained. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

"Oh, so it's not your fault then?" you retorted, your tone dripping with bitterness “you stood right there” you pointed at one side of the room “and you told me you couldn’t fucking love me anymore! Like, what the fuck! Poor misunderstood Tommy Shelby… you wanted me to beg? to do what?! To run after you like a fucking dog. To beg for your love. Was that it? Tell me, what did you want?”, you couldn't restrain the anger in your voice

He winced, as if your words were a physical blow. You could see the pain in his eyes, a flicker of regret that he was desperately trying to hide. But it was too late for that – the dam had broken, and the flood of pent-up emotions was pouring out

“That’s because I love you” he said, making you laugh in disbelief 

“Fuck you!” you barked at him

“When I said i didn’t want you anymore, thats because I still fucking do” he spat out.

“What? Are you bloody high?” you shook your head 

He seemed to search inside for the right words. It was clear he was struggling.

“I can't let you leave” he stated

“Its not up to you” you answered coldly

“I will blow every road out of this damn city if I have to, drown every boat. But you are not leaving, eh” he warned, his finger raised, pointing at you as a warning sign

“I hate you so much right now” you whispered, your words seeming to have an effect on him. He breathed deeply and looked at the ceiling of your room

"Look, I know I messed up," he admitted, his voice quieter now.

"You damn right you did," you said, your anger still burning hot.

His frustration crackled in the air like an electric current. Everything was spiraling out of control, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He watched as you challenged him, your voice a mix of irritation and hurt. It was a pain he was intimately familiar with, one he had tried to distance himself from.

He knew he was the architect of his own misery. The moment he let himself care, truly care for you, he had opened the door to chaos. His heart, so carefully guarded, now laid exposed and vulnerable.

He took a step closer to you, his gaze intense, burning with a mixture of what you assumed to be anger and fear.

His heart raced in his chest, each beat a reminder of what he stood to lose. He wanted to grab you, to shake some sense into you, to break down the walls he had built between you.

But his hand remained at his side, clenched into a fist. He could feel the heat of his anger pulsating through him, but it was masked by an even greater terror - the terror of losing you.

"You think I wanted this?" he finally spat out, his voice raw. "You think I wanted to hurt you?"

You didn't answer, your eyes locked onto his, a mixture of defiance and something deeper.

He ran a hand through his hair, the usually impeccable locks now disheveled, mirroring the chaos inside him. Every step he took seemed to carry the weight of his uncertainty, his fear of losing something he hadn't realized he'd grown so dependent on.

"This is bloody ridiculous. I can't do this, alright? I can't bloody bear the thought of you walking away," he muttered to himself, his voice taut with frustration.

His gaze flickered to the door, as if half-expecting you to disappear beyond it any second. The very idea seemed to send a jolt of panic through him.

"You drive me mad!" he said, his voice rising in agitation.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing uneven as his gaze darted around the room, searching for some form of escape from the vulnerability clawing at him.

"I've denied it, tried to pretend I didn't need you, that I could bloody well do without you," he admitted, "but I need you," he practically spat out, the words almost foreign on his tongue. "More than I care to fucking admit. You're under me skin, in me bloody bones, and I'm terrified of what that means. I’ve tried but I can't fool me heart, I can't keep lying to meself” 

His voice cracked, the dam of his emotions threatening to break completely.

The room felt stifling, a cage that held him captive with his own fears. Tears welled up in your eyes, the battle between your anger and your love for him raging within you. You took a shaky breath, your own vulnerability exposed.

"You can't leave," he said, his voice low but laced with a desperation that belied his usual composure. "I won't let you. I can't." His admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.

Tommy's agitation reached a fever pitch, his body tense, his eyes wide with a mix of anger, fear, and something deeper that he struggled to name.

He couldn't let you go – not now, not ever. The very idea of you slipping through his fingers was enough to shatter his carefully constructed world.

You stared back at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

A mixture of anger and hurt still lingered within you, the wounds of his past actions still fresh. But now, in this charged moment, you could see that he was baring his soul to you.

You didn’t know what to do, what to say. part of you wanted to shout at him, to slap him to push him to the floor and kick his guts… but at the same time, part of you wanted to run to his arms, to kiss him, hold him strongly… truthfully, Your heart ached as you watched him struggle

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His eyes followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and apprehension in his gaze.

Your hand reached out, your fingers gently uncurling his clenched fist, the gesture a silent reassurance.

"I can't lose you," he choked out, his voice a mere whisper, his eyes searching yours for some form of understanding.

"I don't want to leave," you admitted softly, your voice breaking “but… you can't just come in here and say all of that after causing me so much pain. The past won't just disappear, Tommy. You can't just expect me to forget everything and come running back."

He shook his head, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. "I'm not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle but urgent. "I'm asking for a chance. A chance to make things right, eh? to show you how much you mean to me. I know I fucked up. But I need you, I need your lips on mine." His thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip. "I’ll give you my life, you can do whatever you want with it. I just want to hear you say yes, that you'll give me a chance to fix it. To fix us."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, torn between the memories of pain and the yearning for something more.

His thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped your eye, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Tommy… I…," you whispered, losing your words. 

His gaze bore into yours, his thumb now tracing a path from your cheek to your lips, a feather-light touch that ignited a spark within you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often presented to the world.

"Say you'll give us a chance," he murmured, his words hanging in the air like a fragile plea.

His hands still cupped your face, his touch warm against your skin. His eyes danced between your lips and your eyes, a silent request for permission.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the battle between your head and your heart reaching its peak.

His touch, his words, they were like a balm to your wounded soul. And in that moment, you found yourself leaning in, your lips just a breath away from his.

"Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I want to believe you."

His eyes held yours, a mixture of relief and longing in his gaze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.

The kiss was short and when his eyes locked on yours again. his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb tracing light patterns on your skin as if he didn't want to let go.

You took a deep breath, embracing your own vulnerability. "Tommy, I…I can't go through the same pain again. I won’t forgive you again"

“You won’t need to” he reaffirmed, his voice unwavering. His thumb kept brushing your cheek.

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope you gave him a small smile, trying to give him some comfort. As response, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace, His heartbeat thudded against you. 

It was like a weight lifted off both your shoulders, replaced by a warm sense of security. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

His fingers played with your hair, his touch gentle and soothing.

There, in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe in the possibility of healing.

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and breathed deeply your scent, a scent that soothed him as a reminder of home.

“I love you” he whispered in your ears

“Fuck… I love you too” you said holding stronger onto him.

He pulled even estronger, his arms pressed strongly against you as if he was afraid you would slip away

As his arms held you close, his aftershave and Cologne mixture scent mingled with the warmth of his skin, enveloping your senses in a heady combination. Your fingers traced the contours of his chest, feeling the texture of his skin under your touch.

His fingers, which had been tracing patterns on your back, now ventured lower, roaming over your ass, his touch light and teasing.

His lips brushed against your forehead, a soft and lingering kiss that held a promise of more.

Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed along your spine, sending a trail of tingling sensations.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of anticipation and a touch of apprehension.

"Tommy," you murmured, your voice barely audible, but laden with unspoken desire.

He swallowed audibly, his eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored your own. His fingers moved from your back to gently lift your chin, tilting your face up towards his and then his lips were on yours, a kiss that ignited a fire within you.

His lips moved against yours with a fervent passion, his hands sliding down to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair as you responded to his kiss with equal fervor.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses along the way. Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of sensation straight to your core. Every touch, every brush of his lips, was a delicious torment that fueled the growing heat between you.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he breathed against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of his words adding fuel to the fire burning within you. Your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a sense of urgency. His hands mirrored your actions, working together, desperately to rid each other of the barriers that separated your bodies.

As the last button came undone, his shirt, suit and gunholster slipped from his shoulders, revealing his bare chest.

Your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each ragged breath.

Your dress was eventually discarded to the floor along with his clothes. You felt so desperate for him, both almost ripping each other's clothes off like animals.

Leaning against the wall across him there was a full-body-length mirror giving him a perfect vision of your ass, and back as he moved his kisses around your neck and shoulders.

He put a hand on your ass and caressed it softly before drawing his hand back and spanking it hard. The slap was sharp and loud in the small bedroom and it mixed with your moan. You dug your nails on his back.

“You're so fucking hot,” he said, noticing the skin of your ass becoming pinkish forming his handprint, moving to the other cheek, he squeezed it once, before slapping it just as hard.

He didn’t lose time, his lips met yours, sliding desperately.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to express all the longing you had held back. The taste of him, the pressure of his lips moving against yours, were like fuel.

With a swift and confident movement, he scooped you up in his arms. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his lower back as he carried you effortlessly towards the bed, where he gently placed you against the sheets. His lips never leaving yours.

He pinning you to the bed, kissing you with even more passion as he pressed his aching dick into your body through fhe fabric of his pants and briefs.

With your arms pinned against the bed, he started kissing your neck and kissing his way down to your breasts, and began to circle one of your nipples with his tongue.

“oh, Tommy. Fuck” you moaned as he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it firmly.

He kissed your collar bone and moved to your earlobe, biting it playfully. 

“Tell me how bad do you want it” he whispered, his voice hoarse

“I want it so fucking bad. Fuck, i need it” you moaned

Tommy slid his pants off as if his life depended on it, his briefs slipping off along with it.

He flipped your body so that your stomach was pressing against the mattress. A movement that he did so effortlessly. Giving him the perfect view of your ass, which, according to him, was the most beautiful part of your body. 

He took his hand and gave your ass another firm slap, before firmly grabbing both yout asscheeks and spreading them apart. 

“So fucking beautifull” he praised. 

he leaned over you, his face now close to yours, where he left a few kisses on your cheek. his mouth right next to your ear again, just because he knew that turned you on. 

“I going to fuck you real good, ey” he said, his hands sliding between your legs, a finger sliding inside of you.

“Please” you moaned, spreading your legs a bit more apart

He stood back up, so that he could rub his dick against your asscheeks a few times before positioning it against your wet folds, leaning slightly, applying more and more pressure as he adjusted his posture before completely sliding inside of you. 

“Fuck, yes” you moaned as you felt him  inside of you. 

He reached one of his hands to hold at your shoulders, while the other reached one of your arms, pulling it to your back, holding you firmly as he started pounding nice and hard against you.

With every stroke you felt him deeper, moans left your lips involuntarily. His name eventually mixed with the sensual sounds leaving your lips, making Tommy wish you’d never stop. Every moan serving as a fuel for his hard thrusts to get harder and deeper

“Fuck, fuck… Tommy. Oh fuck” you moaned and felt the same strong slap on your left asscheek, then on your right “yes! just like that” you told him

Everytime your perfectly red ass pressed against his hip bones his mind took mental pictures, he would be daydreaming about you like this for the next few days. This, you… was exactly what he needed. The only one he needed. 

“You like it, hm?” he asked breathlessly as he slapped your ass one more time

“Yes, yes I do” you told him, biting your lower lip. 

“Fuck you feel so good” he let his head fall back, momentarily taking his eyes off you. “Tell me, y/n. Tell me you love it”

“I love it Tommy. God, I love your fucking cock so so much. Fuck just like that” your words spit out so quickly, desperate for him not to stop.

He held at your hips pulling them against him everytime he thrusted, making the movement rougher by the minute. 

You were feeling so overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you that the orgasm that washed over you was inevitable. It wasn't common but vaginal orgasms happened once in a while with you, making you impressed everytime it did. 

“Fuck! I coming, i’m coming” you told him, as the orgasm washed over you, your face buried on the duvets

Without letting you recover from it, he pulled out and rolled you over to your back, your tits now reaching up, hard for him. He leaned over to kiss one of them as he pinched the other one hard.

“Fuck!” you cried at the feeling 

He then laid beside you, pulling your hips to him as he did “Get up here and sit on me”, he said and you slowly stumbled upwards to mount him. 

Your head spinning slightly, out of breath as you were still feeling the effects of pleasure course through your veins. As you got on top of him you held his cock, stroking it a few times before directing it to your entrance and slowly lowering your hip, sliding his cock back inside of you, where it belonged. 

“Fuck yes, ride that cock, real nice” he said as your hips moved back and forward. Tommys eyes were a combination of lust and admiration as he looked up to your bouncing tits and moaning lips. 

Both your moans filled the room and you could feel his body shake slight from the pleasure building up at every hip movement. He reached to hold both your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making the pleasure harder to handle as your legs started to feel weaker. 

Tommy leaned upwards pushing your hips against him, dictating the intensity of the moves as he was now working with you, his hips moving up, as yours pressed down on his. 

“Fuck, i’m getting close” He muttered 

“Me too, oh god. me too” you told him and took your fingers to start caressing your clit as you continued the movements, feeling the knot in your stomach starting to grow stronger. 

“Yeah, Just like that, ride that, fucking, cock” he said pausing between words everytime his hips pressed up. 

His grip tighter on your hips, his eyes fucking you as the most lustfull moan escaped his lips, his primal instincs taking over as he moved up, throwing your back against the bed as he started to fuck you faster and harder than ever before. His grunts, getting deeper and louder. 

“Fuck! Don’t stop, don't stop! Fuuuck” You cried surprised at the new feeling. Your nails digging at whatever piece of flesh of his you could grab hold, scratching his skin. 

You were already so close and his attack just made everything more intense, the knot that was forming before, was already strong and ready to explode. But for some reason it didn't, it just kept growing and growing.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good” he told you out of breath, his atack on your nipples returning as one of his hands pinchend and twisted them. 

All you could do at this point was moan the words fuck repeatedly, your body starting to shiver. Your moans were turning him on so hard you knew he wouldn't last longer.

“Fuck, so close, so close. Don’t stop” you warned him,seconds before your body freezing as the best orgasm washed over you, your head spinning, a burning feeling washed over around your entire body as your skin felt hotter.

The sexiest moans leaving your lips followed by Tommys name, and that combined with your shivering state, was enough to push him over the edge. He couldn't hold anymore, a primal grunt escaped his lips and his moves got uncoordinated as he emptied himself inside of you, coming so hard he thought he would pass out, his vision getting blurred. After a few more strokes, he allowed himself to collapse on the bed beside you. 

"Holy shit," he whispered, his voice still tinged with disbelief and desire as he caught his breath.

The room was silent now, just the sound of your labored breathing filling it as you both recovered. Your labored breaths began to synchronize, creating a rhythm that seemed to echo the connection between you. 

Tommy's fingers brushed against your skin, as he moved to kiss your neck and collarbone. His touch, now gentle and caring.

His hand cupped your face, his fingers caressing your hair as he gazed into your eyes. You smiled at him and he smiled back, a small smile, but a huge one for a man like him.

“That was something” your voice laced with a mixture of amazement and satisfaction.

His chuckle resonated in the room, a sound that felt like a secret shared between the two of you, since not many would ever hear the sound of a Tommy’s Shelby chuckle

“Yes it was… Want a cigarette?” he asked and you nodded, watching him stand up and grab his overcoat, searching for his pack of cigarettes. 

He found his pack and lit one cigarette. The sight of him, half hard as he slid the cigarette over his lips before lighting it felt like the sexiest thing you’ve seen. The flicker of the cigarette illuminated his features in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across his face.

Slowly, he began to approach you, his eyes fixed on yours. He held your chin gently, making you sit, his fingers warm against your skin, as he took a drag from the cigarette. The smoke curled between his lips before he leaned in, exhaling the smoke into your mouth. The act was surprisingly intimate, making your core tinkle. 

He took another drag from the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours as he sat beside you. The air seemed charged with electricity as he exhaled, the smoke curling around you both like a fragile veil. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from yours.

"You're something else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice husky with a mixture of arousal and admiration as he held your face and kissed you, feeling the taste of the smoke on his lips.

"You're not so bad yourself," you replied, your voice a low murmur .

His lips curved into a half-smile, the playfulness in his eyes contrasting with the intensity of his gaze. The cigarette rested between his fingers, forgotten for the moment as his focus remained solely on you.

the intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, he was fucking you with his eyes. your lips finally met in a hungry, passionate kiss, his lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, a craving for each other almost as if you hadn’t spent the last minutes fucking eachother senseless. 

As the kiss deepened, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. 

When your lips finally parted, breathless and flushed, his words reached your ears like a plea. "Don't you ever think of leaving again."

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his fear and desire. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, the intensity of the moment a testament to the connection you shared.

"I won't," you whispered, your voice laced with determination. "But you have to promise me something too." His brow furrowed slightly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he waited for your words. "Promise me that you won’t shut me out again," you said, your voice soft but firm. "No more pushing me away, Tommy. If we're going to do this, to really make it work, you have to be all in."

He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if trying to decipher every emotion you were feeling. And then, with a nod, he gave you a small, genuine smile.

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[ljz002-world]

Verdun and Somme, Part 6

“Finn, I want you to be careful around that barmaid.” Thomas spoke rather coldly as he put his cigarette out in an ashtray which stood on the desk in his office. “Why?”, the youngest Shelby asked with scrunched up eyebrows, “Arthur, John, you and even aunt Polly keep on telling me I should go out and meet girls. Now that I’ve found a girl I like you tell me to stay away from her?” “I’m telling you to stay away from her for a reason”, Thomas stated still unbothered as he looked at his youngest brother, “I told you what was done to her, eh?” “Yes, that’s why I want to treat her right, and not fucking abandon her!” “Calm down Finn. Calm down and listen to me.”

The youngest Shelby rolled his eyes at the second oldest as he let out an annoyed huff. “You know there’s some girl here talking about wanting to kill me, right?” Finn nodded and Thomas continued speaking, “I think it’s her.” “Why?” “Because, when she stayed over that night I think she snuck into my room and tried to kill me.” “How’d you get to that conclusion? She was with me the entire night.” “Because, my gun wasn’t how I left it, and I remember how I leave it before going to bed.” Finn just shook his head, “No. She was with me the entire time!” “Don’t raise your voice at me Finn. I just don’t want you to get false hopes about her being serious about you. If she really is the one wanting to kill me, she might just use you to get close to us-“ “Well if she did, she would’ve killed you that night, no?”

“Whiskey, Scotch, and get in the snub as well”, Thomas ordered Y/N who nodded, glancing at Harry who gave her a tight smile. “Is everything alright?”, Y/N asked, noting how except for Thomas only Michael was present in the snub. Michael and an array of pictures. Pictures of men in uniforms, military uniforms.

“Point them out”, Thomas said as he lit himself a cigarette after gesturing to the pictures, “Go on. Point the men out who hurt you.” Y/N looked at Michael who had lit himself a cigarette as well as he watched her with curious eyes. The girl took a deep breath as she walked closer to the table, looking over the pictures, removing some of them and stacking them atop each other. By the end quite a large amount of the men were still left, Y/N now holding the picture of Thomas in her hand, debating whether to put it with the stack of those she didn’t recognize to have hurt her or with those who had. In the end she pocketed the picture of Thomas when he and Michael weren’t looking. He had not raped her but he was no saint.

“Mr. Shelby?”, Y/N asked as she had answered the door to expose the second oldest Shelby, him not giving her an explanation and just barging into her home with his brothers and cousin accompanying him, but the youngest Shelby brother was missing. “Where’s Finn? Is he alright?”, the girl asked with real worry in her tone as she followed the men who walked into her living room, having removed their caps and coats before sitting down by the couch and lounging chair that stood in front of the small fire-place. “Finn’s fine”, Arthur reassured the girl, “He’s just emotional currently. Thought it best to leave him home for this.” “What do you mean Arthur?”, Y/N asked as she looked up at the oldest Shelby who took the whiskey from the girl’s liquor cabinet before he sat back down besides his brothers, filling five glasses of whiskey. “What des he mean Mr. Shelby?”, Y/N asked now her words being directed at Thomas who had downed his whiskey, Arthur refilling the glass. Thomas didn’t look at Y/N as he took his gun out of it’s halter and pointing it at Y/N. Her heart dropped. “You know this gun, right?”

“It’s yours. You always have it on you”, Y/N stammered out, her eyes looking from Thomas to his gun then at Arthur for help before looking at John and then at Michael. None of the men saying anything. “But you’ve seen it up close as well, eh?” “How would I?” “I woke up today and haven’t touched my gun since putting it in my halter. You know what it means right?”

Thomas pulled the trigger.

But Y/N didn’t flinch, “And that confirms my suspicion”, Thomas spoke calmly as he put the gun down. “What do you mean?”, Y/N asked and the leader of the Peaky Blinders just let out a laugh as he looked at Michael, “You see that Michael? You were right. Feels good, eh?” “What do you mean?”, Y/N asked as she looked at Michael, a dark gloom taking over his eyes. “You didn’t move an inch”, John spoke nonchalantly, “Now, nobody except for us Shelbys know that Tommy doesn’t sleep with a loaded gun. Everyone else thinks he does. Now he told you he hadn’t used the gun since he woke up. You’d think he’d have it loaded, but you didn’t flinch. You knew it wasn’t loaded.” “And the only way you’d know was if you had tried to shoot me with it. The night you stayed over in Finn’s room.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as she looked form John to Thomas, her eyes staying on the man with icy blue eyes. “And now?” “You tell me why you tried to shoot me.” “Do I have to? I’m sure you already know”, Y/N spoke as she leant against the wall, looking down at her hands, “Didn’t take a man like you to be one who wanted to know why someone wants him dead.” “I don’t care if a man wants me dead. I have many enemies amongst men. But women? I’m usually loved by them. I want to know why you’d want me dead. I got rid of all the men who hurt you-”

“Not all. 1916. France.”

At this all three of the Shelby brothers looked up at Y/N whose eyes looked at Michael before back at Thomas, “Verdun and Somme.” The girl removed the ribbon from her hair and moved it to the left, exposing the two metal studs in her upper right ear, “You already know what happened to me.” “Why do you want to kill me? I never took a war trophy.” Thomas spoke.

“But you let your men take one. Let them take me. You don’t remember me?”

Y/N walked towards Thomas, her hand gently taking ahold of the man’s chin, tipping it up to look into her eyes. “Bitte Herr, lasst sie mich nicht anfassen. Ich muss nachhause. Zu meinem Onkel und meiner Tante. Ich darf nicht zu spät kommen. Bitte. Bitte Herr.“ (Please Sir, don’t let them touch me. I need to go home. To my uncle and aunt. I can’t be late. Please. Please Sir.)

At the girl’s words Thomas eyes widened, “It’s you.” “It’s me.”

The memories came back to Thomas in an instant. How could he have forgotten her? How could he have forgotten what had been done to her. Y/N just took the picture she had taken out and handed it to Thomas, “If you want to get rid of all the men who hurt me, kill yourself.”

“What do you want from Finn? Wanted to use him to get close to Tommy and kill him?”, John asked and Y/N looked down, “He’s a sweet boy. I wouldn’t use him. I’m willing to be a killer, not a heartbreaker.”

Thomas was still at a loss for words, “You changed since then.” “Yes I did.  Wanted to kill the old me that you and your men took a liking to.” “You still look beautiful.” “Don’t flatter me now”, Y/N said as she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “What now? You know I want you dead.” “I like living.” “Then we’ll have a problem”, Y/N said with a tight smile. “How about this”, Thomas began as he handed Y/N the fifth glass of whiskey, “You drop this little idea of wanting me dead and I let you be with Finn. He cares about you. He might even love you.” “You think I’ll let love stop me from getting my deserved revenge? I care about your brother, really, but I will not stop everything I’ve worked for, for it.” “Then you’re dumb”, Michael finally spoke up, “Finn is a Shelby, he can provide for you. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger. In fact, you’d have a more than comfortable life with any of us. No man in Birmingham or even England would dare to speak about your past anymore.”

Y/N scoffed, “You’re saying I should be with you? Finn has been nothing but a sweetheart to me, you on the other hand? Haven’t even gone out of your way to be nice to me.” Michael just smiled as he looked at Thomas, “And Thomas?” “I want him dead. Why the fuck would I get with him?” “He’s a Shelby, the leader, and if you two were married you could make his life living hell. You could somewhat get your revenge and Thomas could keep his life.”

Tagged ppl: @hollyluvseveryone4ever13 ,

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Take It on the Run Pt. 2 | Thomas Shelby x Fem!OC

summary: Tommy keeps coming back to the cabaret but you never know why. Sometimes he stays but usually he doesn't, leaving his cigarette still smoking on the table. His flighty behavior and emotional unavailability starts to rub you the wrong way, but you can't bring yourself to hate him... but maybe you should.

warnings: outdated language concerning sex-workers; smut

word count: 4142k

Do I Move You?- Nina Simone 🎵

Daylight- David Kushner 🎶

Tommy Shelby told you that the cabaret “wasn’t his… thing” just a week ago and yet, when you begin your solo routine in a cream and sheer bodysuit, guess who’s sitting at that familiar table? You’re singing your song when you notice him, leaning back in his chair and holding a lit cigarette between his knuckles. His cheekbones are cast in an aggressive shadow but you can still make out his icy blue eyes looking back at you. 

You meet his gaze and match his neutral expression. You hadn’t expected to see him again after that night, maybe once or twice in passing but not here. You curse silently in your head and continue singing, feeling more self-conscious than usual beneath the hot stage lights. You can see his eyes pass over you though he makes no show of his thoughts when he takes another drag of his cigarette. 

Your song finally comes to an end and the crowd cheers with wolf whistles. Tommy doesn’t even clap, he stares at you for another moment and then stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray. He downs the rest of his whiskey and stands, and leaves. You watch his back as he walks through the doors of the cabaret and doesn’t look back. Suddenly, you feel like a little girl, standing alone on the stage in a room full of strangers. 

…

After the cabaret closes, you go back onstage to grab your jar of tips. The house lights are dimmed, practically off. The rudimentary electricity flickers every few seconds, stimulating a migraine the longer you look. Your bare feet make no noise as you walk across the sticky stage. The sound of a lighter flicking open sounds from somewhere in the audience, revealing a cut-angular face and a peaky cap. The lighter snaps shut and a cigarette ends burns red in the dark. 

“Sorry I didn’t stay- had important business to attend to,” Tommy stands from his seat and drops his lighter into his breast pocket. He looks you up and down, smirking slightly at what you look like after the show. 

“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, not sure whether to be flattered or afraid. 

“I thought I’d congratulate you on a good performance,” Tommy shrugs and weaves between the tables with the chairs upturned on their tops. 

“You didn’t look like you enjoyed it,” you banter back and move closer to the lip of the stage. Tommy waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, scoffing. 

“I told you, cabaret’s not really my thing.” 

“Right,” you nod and come to the edge of the stage. Tommy stands just below you, his face coming up to your hips from his position on the floor. He looks up at you, tilting his head to the side as he looks you over. Your bodysuit is revealing, barely covering your tits and cunt. He twists his mouth slightly in an expression that almost looks like anger- jealousy. 

“Nice costume,” Tommy mutters and takes a long drag from his cigarette. You don’t respond so you both fall into a tense silence until he speaks again. “So you said you live here. Is that right?” 

You nod and point backstage. “Back there. Just me and the other girls. We all have rooms back there.” 

“Is that where you take all the men?” Tommy asks, gesturing with his cigarette. 

“Jealous are we?” You tease. Tommy looks away and shakes his head once. 

“Don’t.” His voice is stern and sharp. You know you’ve touched a nerve and you smile softly, biting your lip and looking down at your feet. 

“It’s affordable and safe here with the other girls… that’s why I live here.” You answer finally and Tommy looks back at your face, studying you. 

“Safe?” He asks softly, his judgmental brow raised. 

“It’s safer than walking home alone every night after the cabaret closes.” You elaborate, gesturing loosely to the streets of Birmingham right outside the cabaret walls. “Anyway, I’ve been here for five years now- I started sometime after the war. You get used to it pretty quickly.” 

Tommy clenches his jaw, silently counting the number of male clients you might have entertained in your time here. He takes off his cap and runs a hand through his hair, exhaling tightly. 

“Sounds like a lonely life,” he says at last and you shrug. 

“So does yours.” 

Tommy looks back up at you with cold, annoyed eyes. He sets his cap back on his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah? And what do you know about my life?” 

“Nothing, I can just tell.” You tilt your head to the side, looking at him intently. Tommy falters beneath your direct eye contact and bristles. 

“Really?” He asks, his tone hard, “how?” 

You crouch down on the lip of the stage so that you’re face to face with Tommy. You take his left hand and hold it with his palm facing you. 

“No wedding ring, so you’re not married. You’re a criminal, so you struggle to trust others which is why you usually work alone. And… you came here. What were you looking for if not for a distraction?” Your eyes look between his. He scowls, pissed that you can see through him- or at least that you’re saying it aloud. 

“Very observant,” Tommy says coldly. 

“It’s part of the job, you have to know what the men need from you…” 

Tommy keeps his face neutral but his eyes leave your face, flicking to the side before going back to your face. His jaw is tight.

“And what is it that I need?” He asks slowly, dangerously. You look at him for a little while longer and then shake your head. 

“I don’t know…” you admit. You look down at his hand and turn it around in your hands. Tommy looks down at you, his brow furrows and he scoffs sarcastically. 

“Why are you holding my hand like that?” 

You look up at him and roll your eyes. “You’re mean, you know that?” 

“I’m aware,” he scoffs again and pulls his hand away. He clenches his fist and relaxes it. You laugh softly at his attitude and lean closer. 

“Why are you so mean?” 

Tommy looks you up and down, his eyes stopping briefly on your chest. Slowly, he raises his hand to your cheek and slides his thumb across your bottom lip. 

“Why do you try to get so close?” Tommy asks, his lip curled. 

“Does it scare you?” You ask softly against his thumb. 

“No, it doesn’t scare me.” His words brush against your lips like a slap. He smells richly like tobacco, and it almost makes your knees weak. You sigh and stand, stepping away from the lip of the stage. Tommy’s hand falls to his side again and he watches after you with a tilt to his head.

“Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” You whisper and grab your jar of tips. You can’t help but almost storm off the stage. Whenever you try to get closer to him, he has a way of ridiculing your feelings and affections. You don’t look back as you leave him standing in the dark cabaret. 

…

Then a few nights later, you see him again. And then again a few nights later. Those two nights he didn’t stay after or try in any way to speak to you. He’d started to just become another patron, another man that liked to watch you- fuck you, but nothing more. You couldn’t tell what he wanted or what he was thinking anymore and it started to really bother you. It’s not like you really had feelings for Thomas Shelby but you couldn’t deny how beautiful he was. As much as you hated the way he showed up and said nothing, you still loved seeing him in the audience surrounded by smoke like a veil. You knew he was there to watch you so you always tried to put on a good show in the hope that he would wait for you after. But he never did. 

Tommy was trying to avoid the Cabaret. He didn’t even have any feelings for you, not really. He was still grieving his true love and first wife, and didn’t have the ability to feel anything for anyone else. It wasn’t love that he felt for you- it was something else that he couldn’t quite put into words. He felt that you were really similar to him, that you could deeply understand one another and maybe even benefit from helping one another. But at the end of the day, you were just a cabaret dancer and Tommy didn’t need another cabaret dancer. But each time he forced himself to forget about you, he thought about your situation and the way you had spoken to him the first time he’d met you. You’d said that you wanted to be a “normal woman,” and while Tommy certainly wasn’t a normal man- maybe he could provide you with a more “normal” life. He knew he was capable of doing that, of giving you an escape from the cabaret into a life of safety, stability, and normalcy but wasn’t the idea too ridiculous to pursue? He didn’t even know you but he kept going back to the cabaret and seeing you. It made him angry to see you onstage, maybe it was jealousy but it was also knowing how much you hated the work. He knew he wasn’t a good man, but the boy he used to be was. He could do something right, something good but could he bring himself to do it?

So Tommy finds himself at the Cabaret again, sitting at his usual table, a cigarette dangling between his lips. This time when you see him sitting in the dim light of the bar, you stare him down. Tommy swallows tightly and taps his cigarette over his ashtray, watching you still. He knows what you’re trying to do. He doesn’t tear his eyes away from yours, his expression one of subtle challenge. You trail your fingers over your body starting from your pelvis up to your breasts. The whistles of the audience are lost on you, only capturing Tommy’s attention matters at that moment. His eyes follow your hands as they curve over your body and his jaw tightens. When your routine ends, he doesn’t leave, just blows out a cloud of smoke slowly. You bow and disappear backstage, a twitch of annoyance on your lip. 

Tommy flags down a waiter, one of his fists clenched at his side.

“I need you to pass a message to Diana, tell her to meet me backstage after the show tonight. Understand?” He mutters darkly and takes another drag. The young waiter, realizing who the patron is, swallows tightly and stutters. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Shelby. Anything else?” 

“No, that’ll be all.” Tommy exhales and returns his attention back to the stage. More dancers come on stage and perform but you aren’t among them this time. He downs another glass of whisky and checks his watch, the time is nearing midnight and the cabaret will be closing soon. Tommy watches from beneath his cap as patrons start to leave and waiters start busing the filthy tables. As the cabaret closes down around him, Tommy puts his cigarette between his lips and stands, sliding on his jacket. The waiter hurries over and ducks his head. 

“She’s ready for you backstage, Mr. Shelby.” 

“Alright, thank you.” He says around his cigarette and follows the man backstage through a greasy side door. 

“She’s in ‘er dressing room through there.” The waiter points to one of the doors along the thin, dim hallway. Tommy nods once again and waits for the man to leave before opening the door. 

When the door to your dressing room opens, you can’t help but jump a little. You turn around quickly, already ready for a fight. 

 “Tommy-” You start but he waves his hand through the hair, silencing you. 

“Don’t.” He says calmly and slams the door behind him. “Sit.” He points to the chair behind you. You look back at the chair, your brow furrowed. Slowly, you do as you’re told, looking up at Tommy with a hint of resentment in your eyes. 

“Why the hell are you looking at me like that?” Tommy steps closer and rubs his hands over his face, stretching the skin. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask, ignoring his question. Tommy steps closer, his brow raised. He can’t exactly explain why he’s so pissed off at you and because he can’t, it makes him angrier. 

“You know damn well why I’m here,” his voice is strained and tired.

“You keep showing up, just watch me perform and leave without speaking to me. What am I supposed to think?” You protest, your voice steady in its frustration. 

Tommy smiles and laughs, shaking his head like he’s laughing at his own joke. He sniffs and clears his throat. 

“You’re a smart woman, you can figure it out.”

You narrow your eyes at him. The truth is, you don’t know why he came back this time. You assume it’s for sex and that makes you even angrier. 

“Fuck you,” you snap and Tommy chuckles, his lips curving into a smirk. He closes the distance and leans his hands on the armrests of the chair, boxing you in. His face is just above yours, his eyes more vibrant in their emotion. 

“What that mouth of yours,” he says lowly, evenly. 

“Or what?” You start, “we fucked once and then you practically disappeared. You don’t have the right to tell me what to do.” You growl. 

Tommy’s grip on the armrests tightens as he tries to swallow down the mixture of anger and lust rising in his chest. Exhaling, he grabs your chin and holds it roughly in place. 

“I said watch your mouth. I’m not some random man you can just push around.” His voice is low and dark, like a threat. 

“No,” you mock unapologetically, “your’re Thomas fucking Shelby.” As if his name even means much to you. It certainly carried some weight in and around the cabaret but you’d told him before, you don’t concern yourself with business outside of the cabaret. 

Something snaps in Tommy’s eyes and he grits his teeth. “Listen to me. I won’t tell you again. Watch your fucking mouth,” he nearly spits. 

And before you can think it through, you respond. 

“Make me.” 

With a quick movement, Tommy suddenly pulls you to your feet by your arms and pins you against the wall, your face just beneath his. He doesn’t worry about being gentle with you, in fact he hopes it hurts you a little when he does this. You gasp out a breath of air when he shoves you against the wall and holds you by your shoulders. Your eyes widen and your lips fall open in surprise. 

“Is this what you wanted?” Tommy pants, his hand coming up to hold your throat. He stares directly into your eyes as you take a breath and struggle against him, your palms beating his chest. 

“Let me go, Tommy.” You ignore his question again, pissed. 

He grabs your wrists to keep you from hitting him and pushes his weight against you. He looks down into your eyes, his gaze changing from anger into one of passion. 

“You don’t really want me to do that, do you?”

You stop thrashing and take a breath, your eyes looking between his. As much as you hate him right now, god damn his eyes are beautiful. Remembering your frustration, however, you try to speak. 

“Tommy-” 

Tommy interrupts you, seeing the look of defiance in your eyes. He leans in, his lips close enough to brush against your neck. 

“Say my name again,” he orders softly. 

You take a deep breath, your heart racing. You can feel his breath against your neck and it sends shivers down your body into your cunt. Taking a second deep breath, you exhale. 

“Tommy…”

He smiles against your neck and starts to nip the sensitive skin beneath your ear. Then he moves his lips to rest against your ear. 

“I want you, Diana.” 

You close your eyes, sighing, your body starting to give in. But in the next moment you remember yourself and push him away. You move across the room, your legs weak and shaky. When you turn around, you’re both breathing heavily. Tommy removes his heavy coat and tosses it over a clothing rack. 

“For God’s sake, woman,” he grits out and runs his hand over his mouth. You exhale tightly, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the throbbing in your cunt. Instead of responding, you start to pull off your shoes and accessories, dropping them aggressively on the floor and makeup counter. You can’t even look at him without wanting to go back to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Tommy scoffs as he watches you discard parts of your costume and ignore him. 

“Are you gonna keep acting like a child?” Tommy grumbles and leans against the wall with his arms across over his chest. You spin around, your arms gesturing wildly and your eyes flaming. 

“Jesus, Tommy! What do you want from me? Why do you keep coming back here just to never speak to me?” You rip off your feathered headband and toss it to the side angrily. Tommy watches you discard parts of your sheer costume. His eyes roam over your body, his lust once again starting to rule over his frustration. He sighs and passes a hand through his dark hair. He takes a breath, looking away from you, then finally turns back, his eyes jumping from your body to your eyes.

“I can’t get you out of my mind,” he says softly, as if he’s exhausted. 

You freeze, never expecting him to say something like that. Tommy shakes his head, frustrated at himself now for giving you and your situation so much power over him. Though he won’t say it, he might be obsessed with you. He suddenly feels ashamed and his eyes go cold again. 

“Is that not what you wanted to hear?” He asks, his eyes turning away from you. In the harsh dressing room light, his cheekbones cast dark shadows on his face in profile. You wet your lips and shake your head, not able to believe him. 

“I’m not a whore, Tommy. You can’t just come back whenever you want to fuck me,” you mutter, suddenly exhausted too. Tommy looks back, his brow immediately furrows. He jumps off from the wall and closes the distance once again between you. He places his hands on your shoulders, holding you still. 

“That’s not what this is,” his voice is low but clear- direct. He’s becoming more impatient by the minute. It’s like you’re refusing to see sense, to understand what he’s trying to tell you. He doesn’t understand why you’re the only thing he can think about and why he wants more of you, in all senses, now. His hands travel up your shoulders to the sides of your neck before they come to rest on either side of your face. His pointer fingers rest behind your ears, tucked beneath your flapper’s bob. 

You finally look up into his eyes, your heart falling into your stomach at what you see. You start to believe him, god-damn it. You do. Tommy lets out a gruff sigh and caresses your cheek with his thumb, his eyes traveling over your face as if he has all the time in the world to do so. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want me just as bad,” he mutters, his voice quieter than before. And when he says it, it doesn’t sound like he just means sex anymore. But what more do you want from Tommy Shelby than just sex? 

Your hands move to his lapels, gripping the button holes. You close your eyes for a moment as Tommy’s thumb passes over your bottom lip. He sighs when you close your eyes, his head immediately tilting down to get closer to your lips. 

“You drive me fucking mad, you know?” Tommy mutters so close to your lips that you can feel the sound of his words. His mouth dodges your lips and finds your neck, kissing below your jaw. 

“I hate you sometimes,” you whisper back, your breath jumping when you feel his hand slip down to your waist. He nods against your skin and moves his mouth slowly up to yours. 

“I know.” 

As he says this, you break and pull your chemise over your hips so you can undo your garters. Tommy groans softly against your mouth as he feels your garters snap as they fall away. Tommy runs his hands up your thigh as you unbutton his trousers, both panting softly between kisses. Tommy unbuttons his shirt and lets it hang open as he picks you up and sits back in the chair. He sets you down on his lap where you’re straddling him. His hands roam over your thighs as you take his face in your hands. The straps of your chemise roll off your shoulders but the fabric still covers your chest.  

“I want to see you, Diana.” Tommy slides his hands up your sides. You look down at him, your eyes meeting and holding contact.

“Not yet,” you whisper. 

Tommy’s hands slide back down your sides to rest on your hips. One of his hands starts to rub circles on the small of your back over your chemise. He smirks softly and tilts his head to the side. 

“Why not?” 

You smile back and lean down, brushing your nose against his. “You have to earn it,” you whisper. You kiss Tommy gently and he sighs against your lips, pulling you closer by your hips. 

“Earn it,” he asks, his eyes still closed, “how the hell do I earn it then?” He smiles and looks back up at you. You kiss him briefly, adding to his sexual frustration. 

“You have to be good to me.”

“Good to you?” He repeats, groaning when you start to taunt him with short kisses. 

“Be good to me,” you whisper again and begin to kiss him harder. 

He slips his arms around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest. He kisses you passionately and deeply. You moan softly against his lips and Tommy moves one hand to slide up and down your thigh, holding you securely on his lap. 

“Is this good?” Tommy mutters, smiling. You giggle and shake your head, breaking the kiss. 

“You can touch me… but you can’t look- not yet.”

Tommy leans his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, trying to contain himself. He sighs tightly and opens his eyes, his head still leaning back. His hands roam up your body to your waist and up to your chest. His hands are open and flat as he passes his palms over your breasts, still veiled in silky fabric. He watches your reaction as you gasp softly, your nipples hardening beneath his light touch. 

Your hands trail down his bare stomach to his unbuttoned trousers. You reach into his pants and pull out his erection. Tommy groans, his eyes not leaving yours as he continues to feel you up over your chemise. You rise up on your knees and align his cock between your thighs. You sit down slowly and sigh tightly as you feel him fill you up. You move slowly, rocking your hips back and forth. Tommy holds onto your hips, guiding you and matching your rhythm. He watches you in admiration as you take the lead, grinding harder and faster as you please. 

“Fuck.” Tommy pulls you down harder on his cock, causing you both to groan and gasp against each other. His hand slides up your back to rest against your spine, supporting you as you lean away from his chest. You’re whimpering as Tommy breathes heavily against your sternum, sweat glistening beneath your collarbones and between your breasts. You’re moving your hips as quickly as you can as Tommy guides you up and down. When you kiss him, he lets you slot your tongue between his lips. He groans when you suck on his wide bottom lip and his hips sputter up into yours. 

“Slow down, girl,” Tommy warns you between kisses, his hands slowing your hips down. “Stop for a second, look at me,” Tommy speaks softly though his words are broken up by heavy breaths. You stop and look down at him, your neck flushed with blood. 

“W-what is it?” 

Tommy looks up at you, his hands rubbing up and down your sides. Why he chooses this moment- he doesn’t know. He wets his lips. 

“Marry me.”

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married

When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes

"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?"

"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie

"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying

"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"

"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family

"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat

"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"

"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak-Mid Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse) 

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, Tommy eating, Mr.Campbell, sexual harassment, reader eats, Thomas Shelby ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) ( Also Y/N is on dick, IDKY she acts like this)

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually.

             Part 2   Part 3    Part 4   Part 5  

*******************************************

You heard the paramedics before you saw them; you were sitting at the nurse's station having a late dinner amongst the other nurses when they burst through the door shouting.

"Male, early thirties, beaten severely, Bp 80/60, in and out of consciousness" 

You had rushed over and led them to the next available room in the ER; so you and the doctor may start your examination. The doctor surprisingly showed up with the emergency instead of half an hour later. The paramedics set the man down on the gurney and got out of your way, but not before calling the man lying in front of you by name and assuring him that he was in good hands.

'Wait" you yelled after the paramedic, making them stop and face you 

"You know this man, your family … or friend," you asked as you prepared a bucket of warm water with soap.

"No, miss, he's not friend nor family; I just recognized him, is all." the paramedic responded with a tight smile.

"And his name," you asked cause you didn't catch it the first time he said it. 

"Thomas"

You thanked the man before turning back to your patient. You started to wipe away the blood and mud that caked his face making him unrecognizable, to the point where you were confused about how that gentleman had recognized him. 

You continued down his body, cleaning him up where need be so the doctor could assess and work properly. As you cleaned a nasty cut along his bruised ribs, he began to stir, and his eyes opened. 

"Sir, hi, do you know your name," the doctor asked him as he flashed a light in and out of his eyes

The doctor waited, but the man didn't answer, that's when the doctor looked towards you for help. 

You grab the mans hand, squeezing it, causing him to look in your direction; you smile gently at him before asking him, slowing.

"Sir, do you know your name"

"M- my my name," he whispered, out of breath 

"Yes sir, do you know it" You squeezed his hand again, encouraging him along 

"It's Thomas"

"Very good," you praised him

"My name is Thomas Shelby." 

You froze right in your tracks, dropping his hand and stepping back. You heard the doctor praise him for getting it right before asking questions about his pain, medical history, and allergies. 

The doctor waved his hand towards you, motioning towards you to write his responses down, but you didn't even acknowledge him. You couldn't even move. 

Thomas Shelby, thee Thomas Shelby. The most dangerous man in Birmingham is lying on your table with his life in your hands. 

It was starting to all make sense now, why the paramedics knew him but didn't associate himself with him, why the doctor had rushed over so quickly to care for him. 

You then realize that If this man dies, then you die. 

That was all you needed to hear; you grabbed your clipboard, pulled yourself together, and began to write down the things you heard. The doctor finished his assessment, and told Thomas he would come back shortly to take him to surgery, and he would have the nurse give him a couple of papers to sign while he waited. 

You rearranged the papers on your clipboard, putting the ones he needed to sign in front, then grabbed an IV and Morphine bag to set up a line. You handed him the clipboard as you put the bags on the hanger and began to put gloves on.

"What that," he asked, his head nodding towards the two bags as he turned the pages signing each of them before looking at you directly in your eyes.

"I -i-its a-a mo-morphi-e dr-drip a-and an IV ba-bag.”

You might have spoken more clearly if he wasn't staring at you with those eyes. It wasn't like what you had thought. You always thought that if you ever looked this man in the eyes, it would be no different than looking at the devil himself, especially after all the stories you have heard and the people you've seen who have been sent to the hospital in body bags after their dealings with him. 

You expected to see hundreds of souls trapped behind his eyes, but instead, you just see a man, nothing more, just a man.  

"Your papers," Thomas said, handing you back your clipboard as he looked at you looking at him.

"T-Thank you," you replied, tearing away your gaze as you walked towards the end of his bed, placing the clipboard along the edge. 

You then walked back up to him, took his arm, and searched for a vein before placing the IV.

You flashed him a smile before snatching your gloves off and waking out of the room for much-needed air. 

You walked till you were out of his sight, then you pressed your back against the wall before sliding down it all the way and placing your head in between your knees. 

You breathed in and held it before breathing out; you repeated this action four more times before you started to calm down. You sat there for a few more seconds before the doctor returned with more people to begin moving Thomas to surgery.

"You think you can scrub in, or do you need a minute," the doctor said to you, his voice laced with annoyance.

You nodded your head as you stood up and followed him. You ignored his comment toward you as you had understood that this man holds Thomas Shelby's life in his hands, and there is no room for him to fail. 

When you came into the room, the other nurse had already started to change Thomas into a gown and put a net on his head. You went around the gurney and flipped the stoppers on the wheels so that you may move it when ready. 

Soon he was all changed, and it was time to move. You had placed yourself at the head of the bed while the other two nurses stood at the side. 

"Let's go," you said as the three of you began pushing Mr.Shelby down the hall toward the surgery wing.

As you walked down the hall, you tried your hardest to not look down, even though you felt eyes on you, burning you as they looked at you. You tried to keep your eyes straight, but you couldn't and decided to look down. And when you did, you saw his bright blue eyes staring right back at you.

 His eyes are intense and chilling, yet you still stare at him as he stares at you. But his stare has more meaning behind it; he's looking at you curiously, even turning his head to, what you guess, is to get a look at your name tag. 

You break away your eyes from his as you hit the doors to the surgical wing pushing them open. You push him toward his room before leaving to wash up for his surgery as the other nurses get him ready and into place. 

After scrubbing up, you dry your hands before placing fresh gloves on them. And walking over to Mr.Shelby and sitting on a stool at his head. 

"Ok, Mr.Shelby, we're about to start your surgery. Today you are having surgery on your liver and kidney, which both have ruptured. I'm going to place the mask on your face and have you count back from ten, ok," You say to him as you set up the oxygen and gas machine for him.

He nodded his head, and you processed to place the mask on his face and nodded towards him to begin counting backward.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six….." 

You secured the mask before standing on the opposite side of the doctor. 

The surgery took four hours when It was only meant to take two; most of the time, Doctor Brown was on his game, but today, You had assumed that it was because of who the patient was that he was nervous and stressed himself out. But that wasn't the case; he became sloppy, too sloppy, to the point where you had to take over,  finish and close-up. And when you had gone over to his side to take over, you had smelled it, on his breath, Whiskey. You couldn't believe that he would take a drink before performing surgery on a patient. You m didn't say anything though and simply left it as if it was him being nervous that he held Thomas Shelby's life in his hands. 

****************

The next time you saw Thomas awake was when you went into his room to check his vitals.

“ Good Morning Mr.Shebly; how are we doing today,” You asked as you garbed his wrist, checking his heart rate and writing it down before moving to check his blood pressure with the wrap. 

“ Thomas and Fine”

“ Well, Mr.Shelby, that’s Great to hear; how’s your pain on a scale from one to ten,” you asked as you wrote down his blood pressure and moved on to check his IV and Morphine bag. 

“ Thomas and 7” 

“ Mkay, you can turn up your morphine drip with this dial “ You stopped taking to show him the action of the cord before continuing, “ And I see you haven’t eaten …….. Thomas.” 

“ I can tell you know who I am, so you know that I can not eat any old food brought up by any old nurse.”

“ Well, I assure you the food isn’t poisoned.” 

“ Please do; go ahead and have a bite.” 

“ Sure,” You said with a smile as you reached down and grabbed the spoon before scooping up some mashed potatoes and bringing them to your lip.

You were about to take a bite when you thought about it; this is Thomas Shebly, Birmingham's very own gangster; he probably has a lot of enemies. 

They could be in the hospital right now or were when they poisoned his food. You looked down at the spoon before looking over at him.

“ I will get you a new trey made by me personally,” You said as you gathered your things and the tray and headed for the door.

“ And how do I know I can trust you,” he asked with a straight face 

“ Why would I save your life and perform surgery on you just to kill you a couple hours later.” 

He responded with a nod in agreement 

“ Oh, and Thomas, you a visitor a Mr.Campbell, shall I send him in”

“ Yes” 

You let the door shut behind you as you walked down the hall, briefly stopping at Mr.Campbell to tell him that Thomas may see him now before going down the steps to the kitchen. 

The closer you got to the basement, the louder it got, people, yelling, pans slamming against each other, and the smell of piss and bleach was so strong it made you gag and shiver. 

The kitchen was the first door on the right. You entered and immediately regretted it. Two rather large men were in the kitchen; though you don’t come down here often, you know that you’ve never seen these men in this hospital anywhere and that they weren’t the chefs.

“ Can I help you miss?” the shorter of the two men asked 

“ Um, a patient of mine didn’t receive his food, Ive come down to retrieve him some.” You replied, your eyes shifting between the two as you walked up to the window in the wall.

“ Which, uh…. I mean, what’s your patient's name” the taller one asked as he stood up from leaning against the wall.

“ W-why” 

“ Standard procedure,” the taller one said to you, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped closer.

You thought for a second and came to the conclusion that you would instead give this strange man a name than pick a fight you most certainly can’t win.

“It's for Mr.Shelby, Thomas Shelby” 

“ Ah, Mr.Shelby, ok, one meal coming right up,” The short one said as he turned to grab a plate and began putting food on it.

You tried to watch him carefully as he fixed the plate, but the taller man stepped in front of you, blocking your view and taking up the whole window.

He bent down to your eye level before he began talking.

“ What’s a pretty nurse like you doing down here? You don’t run food.”

His breath reeked of cigarettes and rum, making your face scrunch up in disgust before stepping back. 

“ All the food runners were busy, and Mr.Shebly needed food; I don’t mind doing another job; I’m happy to help.” 

You realized that now that you’re not as close, you can see more, not much, but you did see when the other man sprinkled something all over Thomas's food before giving everything a quick mix. 

You look back only to catch the tall man looking at you, well, more like at your body, which you were very grateful for, seeing as you didn’t get caught. 

“ Oi, here’s the food, miss,” The shorter man said, handing you the plate after the taller one moved out of the way.

“ Thank you,” you said before scarring off.

You dumped the food in the trash in the hall before jogging upstairs; you passed the nurse's station before turning right back around and reaching under the station table to grab your paper bag with your lunch. 

Then you headed straight for Thomas's room. You opened the door and closed it behind you locking it.

You see Thomas sitting on the bed, struggling to bring his cigarette to his lips. 

You walk over and place your bag on the bed before snatching it out of Thomas's hands and taking a hit of it yourself. You breathe in the cig and pace the floor several times before blowing it out.

“ What, what happened,” Thomas asked 

“ Two men in the kitchen, they didn’t belong. I know that for a fact; one blocked my view as they fixed your plate, and I swear, I fuckin swear I saw him put something in it,” you said, looking at him before taking another long drag and putting the cig back in his hands.

You begin to pace again, not feeling yourself calm down despite taking a couple of drags of the cig; you still don’t know why people smoke them things.

“ And,” Thomas began as he pressed his lips to the cig before taking a long drag and breathing it out, “ Where is the food now.”

“ I threw it out, of course; I’m not gonna get blamed for making a hit on Thomas Shelby,” you said, throwing your hands up as you looked at him with your head cocked to the side, confusion written all over your face.

Thomas took another long drag before saying, “ Welp, problem solved.”

“ H-how can you be so cool about this? They tried to kill you.” 

“ Darlin, I’m in here cause someone tried to kill me, it's not the first, and it's not the last time,”  he said before taking one last drag and putting the cig out. 

He looked at you momentarily before tilting his head and pointing toward the brown bag at the edge of his bed.

“ Oh, since we can’t trust the food, I’ve brought you my lunch, which we know is not poisoned. And before you decline, you going to be needing your strength. I’m assuming that you will be cutting your time here short.” You said as you took the food out of the bag and walked over to the stove in the room. 

“It's soup, so I must heat it; while it's heating, I’ll pack a goody bag of bandages and cleaning wipe, some morphine too; when do you think you’ll be out of here.” You asked as you filled the pot with the soup before placing it on the burner and turning it on. 

“ I’ll be out by tonight.”

Your head snapped over to look at him 

“ What,” he asked 

“It's just too far too soon for a man with injuries like yours to be traveling 

 on foot, are you going far”

“ Far enough”

“ I’ll help you to where ever you are going,” you said, walking back over to his bed. 

“ And why should I trust you.”

“ Well, let’s see, I just saved your life, and like you said, Mr.Shebly, I know who you are and what you do. And I’ve decided that I’d rather have you as a friend than an enemy,” You said before walking over to the door, unlocking it, stepping out, shutting it behind you, and locking it again. 

You then heading off to collect supplies. 

By the time you got back, the soup was ready, and you poured it back into the bowl and brought it over to Thomas, who tried to sit up but was too weak and fell back into the bed. You quicken your pace to him and set the bowl on the table before helping him sit up.

“ Slow down; you mustn’t tear your stitches,” You told him, placing pillows behind his back and helping him sit up.

He reaches for the soup but winches again in pain, he tries again, but you slap his hand. 

“ Let me, “ you said as you picked up the bowl from the table 

“ No, I can feed myself. “

“ Obviously not, now open wide,” you say as you dip the spoon in the bowl and hold it to his lips. 

He just looks at you with a straight face; you drop the spoon back into the bowl.

“ I’m sorry,” you say with a light laugh, “ but please, you need to eat” You bring the spoon out of the bowl again before placing it into his mouth.

You stay silent as he eats, repeating your actions over and over again. Bringing the spoon down to the bowl and scooping up some soup before bringing it to his lip. You do this while looking up, down, at the soup, and then at him, all while his eyes stay on you. 

Soon you are on your last spoonful of soup, and you accidentally cause some soup to run down his lip as you had pulled it out too soon. You immediately grab a napkin bringing it up to his chin.

“ Sorry, I-“ he cuts you off, grabbing your writs, stopping it mid-air, looking you right in your eyes.

“ I’ve got it,” he said as he grabbed the napkin from your hands before wiping his chin, then licked his lips. 

Your eyes trail down his face onto his body, slowly as you study every part of him, taking your time before returning to his face. And still, his eyes are on you, lookin' at you as you look at him.

“ Do you want to fuck” he asked 

You panicked 

“What? No, I was just c-checking on your body like, umm, you cut and bruises to make sure everything looked good,” you said while standing up, taking the bowl with you, and placing it back in your brown sack. 

“ Well….  Um, you leave tonight. I will be back to help you get dressed after my shift. We can go; I, uh, have other patients to check on, so I’ll be back then, and I’ll keep the door locked, ok.” You say, keeping your eyes on the ground as you collect your things and made haste towards the door. You quickly open the door shutting it and locking it before leaning against it.

This is Thomas Shelby, a cold-hearted killer, you tried to convince yourself. But man is that man easy on the eyes. You blow out a puff of air before placing your things back under the table at the nurse's station and walking off to check on your other patients.

**************

You finished your work quickly and got off earlier than anticipated; it was around 10 when you headed towards Thomas Way. 

You unlocked his room and entered; you didn’t bother turning on some light; the moon provided enough light, and you were trying not to draw attention to yourselves.

You slowly walked over to him; he was sleeping on his back; you got up close to him before whispering.

“ Thomas…… Thomas wakes up” You reached down towards him to shake him a bit “ Thom-“ 

He reached up and grabbed your wrist, but unlike last time, it wasn’t gentle. You struggled to free your hand from his grip as you pulled back while he looked at you, confused.

“ Thomas, it's me, please” You let a cry slip as you tried to get him to understand. It was clear that Thomas wasn’t all the way there. 

“ Thomas,” you said a bit louder, causing him to let go of your wrist.

He shook his head and looked down before looking back up at you and your wrist, which you now cradled in your other hand 

“ I-Im so-“ You cut him off before he finished

“It's fine, come on, sit up,” you said as you grabbed his shoulder, guiding him the way you wanted him to sit. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed before you walked towards the back room to gather his clothes and walked back. 

You placed his top on the bed before getting on your knees to put his socks and pants on. This time you heard no complaint from him as you helped him. After you put on his socks, you scrunched up his pants legs before putting them around his ankles.

You then pulled them up to his thighs as far as they would go before clearing your throat. He then stood up, and you stood up with him slowly pulling the pants up as you went. He almost fell when he stood tall, catching himself before he did so using your shoulder to balance himself. 

You pulled the pants to his waist, tugging a bit before zipping them up and buttoning them. You keep your head down, even though you want to look up; you feel his eyes on you, looking down at you. His whole body towering over you. It was equally as inviting as it was intimidating. 

He moved his hand slowly down your arm

to your wrist. He took it into his hands and brushed over it softly. 

“ I’m sorry.” 

His words made you look up at him 

“It’s fine.”

He drops your wrist, and you reach down and pick up his shirt, bunching it up in your hands as you stand on your tippy toes to place it over his head. 

He bent down to help you carefully slip his arm into his shirt before pulling it down and tucking it into his pants. You then click his suspender into place before slipping them over his shoulder. 

After you get back on your knees, place his shoes on his feet and tie them. When you finished, you helped him put his coat on. You grab the rest of the things you packed for him and place them in a bag before tucking them in his coat.Lastly, you grab his hat, place it on his head, pulling it down to cover his face more. 

“ Ok, so we’ll stop at the nurse station so I can grab my thing, then we’ll head towards the back of the hospital to leave; that way, no one will see you,”  You say as you start walking towards the door.

You walk out the door and towards the station, grabbing your coat, placing it on, then your purse, before walking to the backend of the hospital. 

You grab Thomas's hand, pulling him closer as you begin to approach the final long stretch of hallway.

“ I have to keep you close so people will assume we’re together.” You say 

“ Why,” he asks 

“ Cause …….. “ you trail off, “this part of the hospital is where people bring others to have…… a good time. That’s why it's the perfect place to leave. There’s no security and no one’s concerned with who comes and goes.”

“ Ah, so you do what to fuck” 

You immediately stop in track and face him,

“I do not Im trying to “ You stop mid-sentence when you see a slight smile on his face. He’s joking, trying to ease the heavy tension between you two. 

You grab his hand again, pulling him along the rest of the way, ignoring the people in your peripheral who are getting to know each other. You finally get to the door pushing it open and are greeted with a rush of cold air. 

You and Thomas step out of the hospital into the south parking lot, which is entirely empty. You look at Thomas, waiting for him to lead the way; he wraps his arm around you, placing some of his weight on you as he starts walking.

“ Is it far where we’re going?” you ask, looking up at your breath dancing in the air. 

“ No, not far, 30 minutes at most” 

Besides the occasional whine from Thomas, the rest of your walk is quiet. As you near your destination, or you assumed cause, Thomas asks you, “ You live near here or far? If so, I’ll have one of my men walk you home.”

“ Oh, now I have peaky protection; this friendship is starting off better than I thought. But yeah, I live close no need for a chaperone, though. I’ve lived in Birmingham all my life. I know how to take care of myself.” 

And that’s the end of that conversation; soon, you approach some gates to a well-known boatyard. 

“ We’ve arrived,” you asked

“ We have; I can make it from here,” he says, and you let him go 

“ Very well, Thomas, till next time, bye.” 

He nods his head towards you and says your name before walking away. Your heart skips a beat never having heard him say your name till now, and you never told him. You can only assume that he read your name tag at some point. You flash him a smile before walking home. 

Since you got home late that night, you didn’t have to sneak in to avoid your landlord. You were a couple of weeks behind on rent, the hospital didn’t pay well, and these apartments were a bit out of your reach, but they were the only ones that were halfway decent and not rat infested. 

The next couple of days, you continued to work double shifts so you could make enough money from rent. Every day, people asked you if you were ok, you had been forgetting to complete things and messing small tasks up. 

This was unlike you, but every time you let yourself think, your mind would drift off to Thomas. You kept rethinking every moment you were together, replaying every moment like it was a scene from a movie. 

Eventually, you were told to take the rest of the day off; people assumed you were too tired to concrete, seeing that you had worked doubles for the last three days. You didn’t protest because you had to admit you were pretty tired. 

When you arrived home, you wished you had fought the people at the hospital a little more.

As soon as you walked into your building, you ran into your landlord, who was collecting his mail from his box.

“ Sir, good afternoon. I don’t have your money now, but soon, I will have it in full soon, and I shall give it to you no later than next week.” 

His body wasn’t facing you, and he didn’t answer you, so you reached out and touched his shoulder.

“ Sir ?”

“ Huh, oh, it's you; I hope you weren’t talking to me; I don’t mean to be rude. My ears haven’t been working the best of late.”

He was talking, but you weren’t really paying attention; he had some nasty fresh bruises on his face, cuts above his eyes, swollen eyes, and a busted leaking lip that he kept bringing a towel up to dab. 

“ Sir, what happened? And I said I will have my rent to you by next week.”

“ Oh no, I’m fine, just some bumps and bruises, and no need to have the rent to me; from now on, you live here for free,” he said and started to walk off.

“ But sir, wait, I don’t understand why,” you asked, yelling after him

“ What was it that them peaky boys had said” Your eyes immediately widened; you had caused this. “Oh yeah, the rent for the girl is free, or the house burns down.”  

You were about to apologize, but he had already returned to his apartment. You stood there for a good minute before heading upstairs and fixing some tea and food.

You sat down and ate your snack, staring at the wall as you sipped your tea. Then you laughed and kept laughing; your landlord was a horrible man who once tried to get you to offer sex as payment, and by getting, he locked you out of your apartment until you had his rent, you had only been a day late when he did it, and it took you a week to get his money. You had to sneak into your apartment through the window every night and leave out the same way every morning.

He got what was coming for him, with his crazy rent prices like we live in the city. 

You smiled; this becoming friends thing with Thomas was already working for you. You had hoped that, that wasn’t the last time you saw Thomas.

And it wasn’t. 

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 55: Resolved Debt

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

For the rest of the day I keep myself busy by cleaning out the entire house. Every time I look over at my suitcase in the corner my stomach ties into a knot. Maybe Alfie’s right. I shouldn't be here. All that’s happened since I got here has gone from complicated to worse. And- 

Okay, where is Thomas? I take another glance out the window. Mr. Solomons has returned with his gang but Thomas is missing. He wouldn’t forget to accompany his friend back to his car. Did something come up?

I leave Charlie asleep on the sofa and stick my head out the door to call across the street.

“Where’s Thomas? I thought he was with you.”

Alfie looks up and sees me shouting. He motions for his men to wait and walks over to the front steps, leaning his cane on the railing.

“The man left for some errands. Mentioned something about the foundation or whatever.”

“Just him? No one else went with him?”

He scoffs. “How the fuck would I know?”

That doesn’t sound like Thomas. All these weeks he’s stressed about security and keeping in pairs. He would have told Alfie where he was going.

“Alone…” A light flicks on in my head and panic sprints through me. Polly! “That’s means-! I need to find him!”

I lurch forward to start running but Alfie reaches out and grabs my arm. No no no! This must be what Polly set up! Changretta will want to get Thomas alone so he can kill him-!

“Whoa, whoa.” Alfie tugs me back. “Whatever this mess is, you are not in it.”

I try to pull away. “Polly did this! She-!”

“Not. Your. Business. You want something to do? Go tend to his boy.”

“I-”

“Verena.” The Jewish gangster gives me a certain look. “We both know that a father without his son is the worst thing we can let happen to him. He needs someone like you to look after Charlie.”

“I have been!” I cry out with a cross between rage and despair. “And he never tells me anything! I am not going to wait for a note saying he’s been shot!”

“Steenstra, coming from a man who knows how Tommy thinks, let me say this. He has strange ways of showing affection.” Alfie, seeing that I’ve calmed down a fraction, pats my shoulder. “I’ll leave it at that.”

Yes, because that cleared up so many questions! I watch the man stride back to his car and see him give a final wave as the vehicle starts driving away. So I’m subjected to what all other Shelby women struggle through. Staying safe indoors while I wait for Thomas to tell me what’s going on. 

Thud! The sound of the back door sends me sprinting down the hall. No more of this-! 

“Polly?”

The Romanian woman walks past my shocked face and starts to light a cigarette.

“What a surprise,” I droll darkly. “Are you here to apologize to Charlie for killing off his dad?”

She flicks some ash into the sink. “Tommy isn’t dead.”

Not dead? Not…? Okay, then what did happen? She can’t hide it from me! Polly’s worried just as I am!

I clench my fists and march straight up to her. “Somebody better start telling me what the fuck is going on right now-!”

“We’re holding a family meeting,” Polly explains all too calmly. “I’ll explain everything then. Right now, keep your head clear. You don’t need to pick up Tommy’s hot-headedness.”

“My head clear? My head clear?” I hiss. “Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying to keep a clear head throughout these past weeks?”

Polly just shakes her head and walks off to see Charlie. My shoulders slump and I lean against the wall. Not Polly too. Is Ada the only other one who understands this insanity? Can somebody tell me anything?

Knock knock.

I cannot handle any more of this. That better be a bloody angel because, dear God, I need some good news-!

“Hello.”

Thomas. It’s Thomas. Alive. Holding a parcel.

“Thank Christ. You son of a bitch!” 

My anger fazes into frustrated relief and my knees buckle. Thomas uses his free hand to grab me just before I can crumple to the ground. He stands me up and I bury my face into his warm coat. At the same time I weakly pound a fist against his shoulder, still raging about his return.

“Y-You could’ve- I thought you were going to die!” I gasp. “What happened, Thomas? What the fuck is going on?” I look back at the parcel. “And what is this? More guns?”

Thomas clears his throat and helps me stand straighter. “Verena, about the argument from before. I understand that you’re only looking out for your family. None of this is your fault. I know you’re not working for Changretta.”

“Thomas… That’s really sweet, and I accept your apology, but just moments ago I was about to pull my hair out worrying about if you had been killed!” 

“Here, here. Let’s get inside.” Thomas ushers me back into the warm house and shuts the door. “I know, none of this has been fair for you. And the Hudson-”

“Don’t mention the car, Thomas. I needed to stop keeping quiet and thought that it would help-”

“Oh it does, love.” Thomas licks his lips. “It’s a gorgeous car. But I still owe you a big apology for this whole mess. So to make it up, Charlie and I picked out this a few days ago. Thought you’d like it.”

He passes me the box. Why does he look… scared? Excited? It’s hard to tell. And why is the box light? I remove the top and peer inside. It’s- It’s… A beautiful white coat! An elegant, warm coat that feels almost too soft to the touch. He picked this out for me?

My jaw drops and I immediately start shaking my head. “Thomas, I cannot accept this. It’s too much.”

Thomas sees the joy in my eyes and refuses to take the parcel back. “‘Course not. You need something to keep you warm here. Please.” He puts a hand over mine and gently pushes the box further against me. “Please take it.”

“It’s genuine fox fur!” I gush. “This must have cost a fortune! If I wear this half of England will come running expecting me to be some prime duchess or somebody important.”

“You are important. To us.”

He didn’t say ‘to me.’ Is this an apology for the argument or saying sorry for pushing me onto the ‘women to pay no mind’ list?

“Thanks again for watching Charlie.”

He’s had his hands full with this vendetta business that he’s had no time for his own son. A steep understatement. So was I wrong? Thomas really does care? He just… has strange ways of showing affection.

I grudgingly accept the gift and smile warmly. “You never need to thank me for watching him.”

Thomas closes his eyes and rubs his temple. “There’s so much I need to thank you for, love.”

Then why do I still feel pushed away?

“Thomas.” I hold up the coat. “You don’t need to apologize with this. Just promise me you will keep me informed. Promise me.”

He leans against the wall I’ve backed him into and sighs. “I can’t.” His piercing blue eyes look down at me with something I can’t quite decipher. “You know why.”

I bite my lip and take a deep breath. “Yes. I know why. But it doesn’t hurt to ask again.”

I love you, Thomas! And it makes me saddened with worry and sick with anger that I will never be good enough for you.

Thomas starts to reach over but holds back. “I know you still believe I’m worth saving. But- But all I’ve given you are more problems. You don’t-”

“Tommy.”

Polly cuts him off and motions for him to follow her to the parlor. Did she do that on purpose? How am I supposed to pry anything out of Thomas without being interrupted?

Thomas sits in an armchair, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips, and stares at Charlie playing with his blocks. He doesn’t notice right away when Polly offers him a drink.

“What do you think you’re going to tell Arthur?” she asks.

Thomas doesn’t blink. “I’m going to tell them the truth.”

“Did she like the coat?” Charlie asks shyly from the floor.

Thomas doesn’t answer right away so I speak for him. “I love it, Charlie. It’s beautiful. Did you help pick it out?”

He grins proudly. “Yeah! It was the softest one.”

In the corner of my eye I see Thomas look over at me. He’s still holding something back. But what?

Polly moves over to look out the window. “They’re here.”

I will have to wait for another time. Again. I was so close to telling him.

Another family meeting. Another awkward silence while everyone waits for Thomas to speak. This time I choose to wait with Charlie in the hall while everyone else gathers around the table.

After a minute Arthur speaks up. “Heard there was a shooting today.”

Thomas nods. “Yeah. I killed three men today. Now our enemies will have to wait.”

Arthur and I exchange the same look of surprise, while Lizzie and Ada don’t look the least bit shaken. That’s what was waiting for Thomas today. But he lived.

Charlie tugs at my skirt and points to his dad. “Was daddy in trouble?”

“No, no,” I whisper and kneel down next to him. “Your vader just met up with some bad men.”

“Suppose they took you by surprise?” Arthur asks gruffly.

“No. I knew they were coming.”

Hold the phone. He knew?

Polly speaks up. “A few months ago I received a letter from Luca Changretta, offering to spare my son if I gave up Tommy. And I gave Tommy up.”

“Which is the plan that Polly and I agreed on,” Thomas explains. “I knew Luca would want to pull the trigger himself so I used this as a setup to bring him in.”

He locks eyes with me and sees my growing irritation. All this time? He knew all this time what he was getting himself into and he told me nothing! 

“I didn’t get Luca, but I got three. All right?” He walks over and leans down to pick Charlie up. “Come here, you.”

Johnny Doggs holds up a glass. “I thought you’d gone soft. I drink to you, Tom.”

“So you got three?” Uncle Charlie asks.

Thomas nods. “I got three.”

“Well, I drink to you, Tom.”

Charlie looks back and forth in confusion. “Dad, you got three what?”

Thomas laughs and pokes his chest. “I got three shillings for a two-shilling horse.” I guess that’s one way to put it. “Now, my boy, you come with us, eh?”

Charlie giggles and gives me a wave goodbye. Arthur lets out a laugh and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“Been playing with Aunt Verena, eh Charlie?”

Suddenly Thomas’ gaze hardens. “No, Arthur.”

“Why not? She’s basically a sister.”

Yes. Why not? I should think that I deserve aunt status at this point. And why is Polly looking at Thomas like that? Almost like she knows something…

The Romanian woman catches me looking and busies herself by grabbing her coat. “I’m picking up Michael from the hospital tomorrow. Then I'm dropping him off to Mr. Gold on the outskirts.”

I stifle a laugh. “Michael? In the woods? He’s going to hate it.”

Polly rolls her eyes. “He’s going to deal with it.”

Once she walks out, Thomas sticks his head back in, with Charlie still clinging to his neck.

“We’re going out for a drink. When I bring Charlie back for his nap, will you watch him ‘til I get back tonight?”

I put my hands on my hips and give him a cheeky glare. “I suppose Charlie can spend more time with his non-aunt.” My teasing fades. “You’re not staying?”

Thomas notices my disappointment and tilts my chin up. “I've got some paperwork but I’ll be back. I promise.”

Thomas does fulfill his promise… eventually. He brings Charlie back just as it starts to turn dark, tucking the yawning child into bed. But he walks back out again, no doubt off to overwork himself. Thomas seemed eager to come back but does not return until the early hours of the morning. I don’t know what kept him but when I hear the door open I put down the dishes I’m washing and head straight for him.

“You’re back late. Charlie’s- Thomas? What is it?”

His face. All hints of conquering and happiness from earlier are gone. Replaced by a sad stare. He looks as if someone just slapped him.

Thomas’ mouth opens and closes while he tries to think of what to say. He pinches the bridge of his nose and removes his hat.

“Did Polly tell you?”

Tell me what? In case he hasn’t noticed yet, I’ve been kept in the dark with many important bulletins as of late. 

“I take that as a no.” Thomas lets out a deep breath. “Lizzie, she’s… pregnant.”

Tug! My body goes still and I grip the dish towel even harder. The blood drains from my face. My heartbeat screams in my ears. I lean against the wall, keeping my shocked, distraught face hidden away. All this time…

“Th-That’s wonderful, Thomas,” I manage to say through my shreiking thoughts. “Another baby is another blessing.”

I feel Thomas put his warm hand on my tense shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Alright? Alright?! Is he fucking joking?!

“Yes, just tired.” I pull away and fling the towel onto the counter, changing to a colder persona. “Is there anything else, Mr. Shelby?”

My heartless tone hits Thomas square in the chest. A sorrowful look freezes over his face. Good.

“No.”

“Congratulations again. I’m sure Charlie will be happy to have a sibling.”

I rush back to my room and fight the urge to slam the door right off its hinges. It’s happening all over again. They have a baby, he marries her, I’m pushed away again. Sticks and stones, best wishes to them both. At least Grace brought a sense of peace to Thomas. Lizzie only seems to bring out the rough side of him.

Lizzie Stark? Lizzie fucking Stark. Back to his old ways. He will kiss any woman but me. Always another woman. Just when he starts to open up, he uses someone else. Is my love invisible to him? There he goes again, back to Lizzie while I’m taunted for being single. 

Thud! That was the front door.

Yes. Go, Thomas. That’s one fucking context clue you pick up on! I want to be alone.

I’m just another whore to you, Thomas Shelby. You’ve said it yourself. We’re all whores, we just sell different parts of ourselves. I’ve sold you my time. Each year I saved my time for you and your family, your Shelby Company Limited. And for what? 

Ring! Ring!

If that’s Lizzie Stark I’m going to rip the phone clear from the wall! I roughly pick up the receiver. On the other end I hear the distinct chatter of two people.

“Verena?”

No. No. No. I do not need a talk full of pity.

“Please, Finn… Not now. You too, Ada.”

I hear Ada sigh. “He told you?”

I choke back a sob and wipe the pooling tears from my eyes. “Yes. God smiles on us again.”

“Verena-”

“PLEASE!” I shriek and cover my mouth to keep myself from breathing too fast. “Just- Just leave me be.”

I hang up before they can argue. That does it. I’m not playing this game anymore. As soon as this bloody fight is over I’m packing my bags for home! Company employee or not, I will not stick around to work in these harassing conditions. Despite my lingering love for that klootzak, it’s not enough to win me over to stay anymore. No more moral obligation. My debt is finally paid.

Maybe I will be too cold, Thomas. Too empty and numb. But I’ve followed you around too long, hoping you might love me back. If this is what it takes to earn love, it’s a cost I’m not willing to pay.

And yet even if I’m leaving for good, my heart will never be free from you.

@meadows5

[novashelby]

Hello. My name is Nova, and I am 30 years old. I am always willing to be friends with mutuals. Please feel free to message me. I don't talk to those privately under 18. I am sorry. :( I started writing fanfiction at 15. So...nearly 15 years. Yikes. I also write original work and read a lot. Just your typical ELA degree holder. I'm American, but I hopped continents. My blog is run by an adult meant for adults. MDNI and 18+

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Period typical violence, attitudes, and language| Canon typical violence, attitudes, and language|Abuse; mental, emotional, physical, and sexual|Dub-Con, coercion, and Non-Con|Mental illness and categories under that umbrella|BDSM.

Peaky Blinders-Male Characters

Peaky Blinders-Female Characters

Cillian Murphy Characters

Evie Master List-Adopted!Shelby

The Balls in Our Courts-TommyxOCxFinn

His Innocence-TommyxOC

The Shopkeeper Girl-JohnxOC

The Girl With the Smile-ArthurxOC

Someone Like You-JohnxOC

The Vendetta Complex (OC-PBxTHG AU)

Cillian Murphy xReader

[call-sign-shark]

Tangled Desires (and Broken Innocence)

Summary: In the gritty streets of Birmingham, the Shelby brothers rule with an iron fist. The source of their success in the criminal underworld? Their loyalty to one another. Yet, everything changes when a mysterious girl named Lola Haze and her family arrive in town. Young, bratty, and irresistible in her short sundress, she stirs Tommy, Arthur, and John's curiosity. In her attempt to flee from a toxic home and the awful secrets she hides, Lola decides to ignite the three brothers' desire. Yet she soon understands that these violent delights can only have violent ends and that she will never escape this hell she created: a hell located between love and abuse with three men.

TW: Extreme violence, M/M/F/M, kidnapping, porn with plot, rough sex, huge age gap (Lola is legal), Dubcon, mention of child abuse, highly inspired by Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov and Lana Del Rey's song. We don't know Lola's real name so consider her (Y/N).

🫧 Playlist

🫧 Theme Song: Lolita by Lana Del Rey

🫧 Masterlist:

Coming soon on Tumblr too.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 3: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 4: c o m i n g . . .

Chapter 5:

Chapter 6:

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

(More to come?)

🫧 Author's notes:

This will be a multi-chapter fic but the posting schedule will be irregular and I really don't know where I'm going with this. All I can tell you is that don't get fooled by the pink - this was supposed to be Halloween so it’s extremely dark, noncon and disturbing.

Also, I don't expect this to be popular. If you still want to be tagged just leave a little comment.

Please don't force yourself to read because you're my mutuals. It's okay to stay safe.

[shion-ah]

Death of Me

It's no secret that the Peaky Blinders ran Small Heath with the Shelby family making up its head members of the gang, however one other family had been just as integral to the success of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the rise into power. 

At the call of war Katherine Redwine had been thrusted into her brother Patrick's role as intelligence for the Peaky Blinders once the men had been sent to fight for their country, she had no idea how dangerous her life was going to get working side by side with her ex fiancé, Thomas Shelby.

Cast and Chapter One Chapter Two

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

(Someone please write this!!)

This is an idea where Y/n is Thomas Shelby’s daughter AND Luca Changretta’s niece AND is in love with Bonnie Gold:

Omg imagine Tommy Shelby met an American woman before the war and they fell in love and then when Tommy went to the war, her parents took her back to America and she gave birth to their daughter, Y/n. Tommy thought that the both of them had died, but they hadn’t. When Y/n was a teenager, her uncle, who happens to be plot twist… Luca, takes her in after her Mom died. Now she’s in her 20s (she’s not involved in any crime and doesn’t know about any of her families criminal activities, on either side) and she really wants to know who her dad is so she sneaks out and travels to England where she meets her Dad, Thomas Shelby! Tommy did not know that the woman he fell in love with so long ago was Luca’s younger sister. Y/n and Tommy get really close and he loves his daughter more than anything and is super protective. And all of the Shelby’s absolute love and protect her! And imagine she falls in love with Bonnie!! And when Tommy finds out she’s Luca’s niece he’d be shook, and he’d be shook to walk in on Bonnie kissing his daughter (he’d lose his mind lmao), so basically Y/n United 3 crime families, Shelby, Gold, and Changretta lol, so no wars between them!! Y/n doesn’t like violence and is really sweet and innocent and everyone just really loves her🥹

[ljz002-world]

Assistant, Part 1

John was showing Michael around the office for the legal business. They passed a few desks where men were busy working, until they came to a halt by the desk where a girl who could not have been older than Michael sat, she was busy writing on her typewriter when the two boys disrupted her peace. “And this here is our lovely assistant and secretary-“ “I’m Mr. Shelby’s assistant and secretary, not yours Johnny-boy”, the girl cut the Shelby off as she glanced up at him sassily, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest before mustering Michael up and down, “What’s your name lad?” “Michael. Michael Gray, I’m Pol’s son.” “So you’re also a Shelby. In these parts people don’t hide that they’re a Shelby. I’m Anastasia, but my friends call me Ana.” “If she had any”, John mocked with a grin to which the girl poked the buff young man into his side drawing a hiss from, “You witch.” “Then you can call me Mike”, Michael said with a grin as he extended his hand, Anastasia looking suspiciously at it before glancing at the other two Shelby brothers. She gave Michael her hand and instead of shaking it like most boys and men do he placed a kiss onto the back of it. This action did shock the girl as a smile made its way onto her lips, “What a gentleman. Not seen often ‘round here.” “Well, Michael’s working for Tommy now, accountant. Be a doll and help him if he needs it, eh?”, John asked and Anastasia nodded with a smile. Just as the girl was about to say something the doors to Thomas’ office opened and he stepped outside seeming quite annoyed and even mad.

“Anastasia, my office, now.”

With that he disappeared back into the office leaving the girl to roll her eyes as she got up, “It’s always something with him innit?”, she stretched before plopping her hands onto her hips while smiling at Michael, “Well, Mikey-boy, I gotta go, see you boys ‘round.”

“She can talk about him like that?”, Michael asked John as the he continued showing him around, “Only her.” John had answered, “Anybody else would be dead for even tryin’ it.” “Why does she get a special slip then?” “Have you seen her?”, John said, “Her pretty face is her slip acting like that. But don’t try it. Oh and also, no touching up on her.” “Huh? What?” “Anastasia is off limits to everyone in Birmingham.” “Why? She got a strict father or boyfriend?” “No. She’s got Tommy. Every man knows it. She’s off limits even for us Shelbys.” “Are the two together?” “No. Anastasia sees him only as her boss, but Tommy? Tommy wants what he can’t have. Always been like that.” “So she’s Tommy’s girl?” “Yes. So don’t touch her unless you have to, and then keep it short and far away from her privates. No slip ups allowed.” Michael nodded, still not getting that girl out of his mind.

[wonderlanddreamer]

"I've made men twice your size beg for mercy. Don't think for a second that I won't do the same to you."

Behind Enemy Lines