#tom shelby fanfic

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

#dirty minds worldwide

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[sl-newsie]

My biggest strength is my biggest curse.

Imagination.

For the rest of my life it will plague me.

Writing stories of passion and romance that will never be real.

Never can be real.

I spin tales of love and in doing so I doom myself for thinking I could ever be the lucky character in my own story.

[solomons-finest-rum]

Saga!! You’re baaaack!! Lovely to see you around these parts again hun 😘 If you’re in the writing mood, can I interest you in a little gif of our favourite Camden based reprobate as inspiration? 😉 xxx

Thank you love! Good to be back (and make my favourite Camden gangster talk nonsense in my fics 🤭🤭🤭)

“Alfie…”

“That is still a ‘no’, luv, all right, and that is final.”

“Alfie Solomons, I am your wife!”

“Playin’ the wife card, are we, right, but two can play this game, sweetheart, yeah? Now, I ain’t one to play dirty, right, and don’t you roll those pretty eyes of yours at me, ‘cause I know what you’re about to say next and the answer’s still bloody ‘no’!”

“Alfie, I am begging you…!”

“Oh, now she’s beggin’, ain’t she, isn’t that a clever thing to do to your husband, right, makin’ ‘im feel all sorts of notions just to win the argument, right, now listen to me, Mrs. Solomons, you women are a clever little breed, right, entirely overlooked and undervalued, yeah, I realise that, luv, an’ I can see that ‘cause you yourself are exceptionally clever, my love, so much so that you went an’ married a clever man, right, a trait that doesn’t apply too often to my kind… There she goes and rolls her eyes again, bloody hell, come back here, woman!”

“No!”

“Come back here at once, ya vexin’ creature, an’ no stompin’ on the bloody stairs, you’ll wake the dogs!”

“Don’t bring the dogs into this!”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own fuckin’ house that I paid for!”

“You, Alfie Solomons, are unbelievable!”

“Thank you.”

“That wasn’t a compliment and you know it!”

“Hush now, luv, let’s not argue, right, ‘cause I can take no more of this–”

“Alfie!”

“Right, an’ I can be the bigger person here, darlin’, and to say I love an’ cherish you more than life itself would be an understatement–”

“Unbelievable!”

“So I forgive ya.”

“Go to hell!”

“How many times must I tell ya I already got the ticket done and paid for?!”

“I swear on my brothers, Alfie, I will join you there, because I’ll bloody go and murder my own husband if his nonsense continues!”

“Right! Fuck! Now that right there is just fuckin’ brilliant, right, ‘cause your lovin’ brother is what started the whole fuckin’ thing!”

“Alfie Solomons, you put on a clean shirt right this instance and accompany me to my brother’s wedding or I swear to God, I’ll gut ya with a butter knife!”

“John bloody Shelby gets married at least every other October, what fuckin’ difference does it make if I come or not?!”

“You take that back!”

“Why should I fuckin’ take it back, right, if it’s true?!”

“A butter knife, Alfie Solomons, I swear to God!”

“Naaah, but do ya promise, dearest?! ‘Cause it’s a lovely set your Tommy got us for our anniversary, shame if it fuckin’ goes to waste…! What are ya laughin’ about now?”

“Nothin’… Oh God, Alfie, I bloody love you, you know that?”

“That a trick or somethin’…?”

“No! I just… God, Tommy always said I took after Polly, I just never knew how much… This is bloody ridiculous.”

“Right, you… Right, stop laughin’, woman, you’re bloody ridiculous, stand still… Now your lipstick’s all over the– an’ what was that for?”

“I love you, Alfie Solomons.”

“Right, now, I love ya too, alright, even though you Shelbys are all equally fuckin’ crazy...”

“You knew what you married into.”

“That I bloody did.”

[strayrockette]

A Daughter Who Loves

A Daughters Letter

Masterlist

A/N: I can’t believe I’m finally knocking this one out of my drafts! I’m so happy to no longer see it sitting there taunting me to finish it😂 hope you guys enjoy ❤️please comment, like and reblog❤️

Summary: Takes place a couple years after the initial meeting with the unnamed soldier. You’ve found a new life for yourself far away from the unresolved trauma and issues of your past.

Dearest Father,

I used to love you. I still love you. But if news got around that you were dead, it wouldn't hurt as much as losing Mother. The worst part about loving you...is knowing that we'll never be a true family.

Despite it all, I must thank you.

-

The pen stilled in her hand. For the first time in years, her mind had failed to slather seething words upon the awaiting canvas. Y/N’s eyes drifted to the open window of the study.

The study was a room of serene contradiction, a place where history and modernity danced together. Heavy oak bookshelves lined the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that whispered of the past. A large, mahogany desk sat in the center, its surface cluttered with papers, a brass inkstand, and a small, framed photograph of her and Thomas Shelby. The rich, dark wood contrasted sharply with the lighter tones of the pale, floral wallpaper, giving the room an air of understated elegance.

Through the tall, arched windows, the view of Arrow House's sprawling grounds unfolded in tranquil splendor. The vast acre of land stretched out like a lush green carpet, dotted here and there with the vibrant colors of blooming flowers. The manicured lawns seemed to reach out to the horizon, framed by clusters of ancient oak and chestnut trees. A winding gravel path meandered through the grounds, leading to a quaint stone bridge over a gentle brook. The distant hum of life from the village beyond was faint, almost like an afterthought, allowing the peaceful solitude of the estate to take center stage.

The study’s window was open just enough to let in a fresh breeze that rustled the heavy, velvet drapes. The scent of earth and flowers mingled with the cool air, creating a soothing atmosphere. It was in this moment of calm that Y/N found her thoughts drifting back to her father, whose presence was now as distant as the last whisper of the city’s bustling streets.

The room was silent except for the occasional chirping of birds and the distant chime of the grandfather clock in the hallway, marking the passage of time with a gentle, rhythmic insistence. Y/N's gaze lingered on the horizon, her mind grappling with the complexities of her feelings. The serenity of the estate contrasted sharply with the turbulent emotions that swirled within her, a reminder of the painful distance between the past and the present.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of her emotions lift slightly with the breeze. For now, the letter remained unfinished, an echo of her unresolved feelings. But in this moment of stillness, she found a semblance of peace in the quiet beauty of the land outside.

Her husband, Thomas Shelby, entered the study with the quiet confidence that was uniquely his. The door swung open just enough to admit his tall frame, and his eyes, sharp and calculating as ever, softened when they fell upon her. He crossed the room with his usual deliberate stride, his polished black shoes making a subtle, almost reverent sound on the wooden floor.

Y/N, lost in the tranquil view from the window, had been sitting in the study for a while. Her thoughts had wandered to a time long past, a time when her life had intersected with the Shelby brothers.

Thomas’s presence was a welcome interruption, though it took her a moment to shift her attention from the peaceful scenery to him. He placed a warm, familiar hand on her shoulder, a touch that carried the weight of his love and the assurance of his support. His voice, though low and steady, held a note of playful affection as he spoke. “Love, are you planning on joining us for dinner with the family tonight?”

His words were like a lifeline to the present, pulling her from the swirl of past grievances and into the here and now. She looked up at him, her lips curving into a faint, mischievous smile.

“Dinner with the Shelby clan?” she teased, her eyes twinkling with a mix of affection and amusement. “Is that the same family that turns every meal into a battleground? I’m surprised they’re all in the same room at once. Last I heard, you lot were still debating over who got first dibs on my chocolate chip cookies.”

Thomas chuckled, a rich, rumbling sound that seemed to resonate with the room’s deep, warm tones. He leaned in closer, his breath brushing her ear as he spoke. “It’s not quite a battleground, though it can be lively. But I promise, it’s not all chaos. We have a few moments of civility before it all kicks off.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and unburdened. “Well, in that case, I suppose I can brave the family dinner. Someone has to keep you all in line.”

Thomas’s gaze softened, and he gently squeezed her shoulder before releasing her. “Glad to hear it. I wouldn’t want to face them alone.”

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, feeling a renewed sense of connection to the life she was building with him. The letter and the unresolved emotions of the past seemed to drift away, if only for a moment, replaced by the comforting reality of the present and the anticipation of a shared future.

She returned her gaze to the window, the sprawling grounds of Arrow House now seeming even more serene in the quiet aftermath of their conversation. The promise of a lively family dinner ahead brought a new layer of anticipation to her day, a reminder of the vibrant life she was now a part of.

In her reflective mood, Y/N thought back to her time as a nurse during World War I, when her path had first crossed with the Shelby brothers. It felt like a lifetime ago, those days spent tending to the wounded in a makeshift field hospital. Each brother had come through her care, their lives touched by the trauma of war. Thomas, Arthur, and John—each had been a different story, each had left a mark on her heart.

She remembered the late nights spent in the dimly lit wards, the quiet conversations that had unfolded amidst the beeping of machines and the rustling of sheets. Thomas had been the most reserved, his eyes betraying the weight of his experiences even as he tried to mask it with a veneer of stoic bravery. Arthur had been volatile, his wounds reflecting the turmoil within, while John had been more approachable, his easy smile a rare comfort in those dark times.

Y/N had tended to their injuries with a professionalism that masked her own fears and uncertainties. In the midst of the chaos, she had been a silent witness to their struggles and their unspoken camaraderie. The war had been a crucible that tested their mettle, and she had seen firsthand the bonds that had formed between them, forged in the fires of adversity.

As she sat in the study, the weight of those memories mingled with the serene beauty of the present. The sprawling grounds of Arrow House, with its manicured lawns and distant trees, seemed like a world apart from the grim reality of the wartime hospital. Yet, it was here, in this peaceful setting, that she had found a new chapter in her life.

The juxtaposition of past and present was not lost on her. She had moved from the sterile, oppressive environment of wartime care to the warm, welcoming embrace of her new life with Thomas. The contrast was stark, yet she embraced it with a sense of gratitude and acceptance. The Shelby family, for all their complexity and dysfunction, had become a part of her world, and she had become a part of theirs.

As Y/N glanced once more at the window, the promise of the evening’s dinner seemed to symbolize more than just a family gathering. It was a testament to the journey she had undertaken, a journey that had brought her from the battlefields of war to the hearth of Arrow House. The anticipation of the dinner ahead was a reminder of the new beginnings and the connections she had forged along the way.

Dearest Father,

The man I love has given me much more than I anticipated. I no longer ache at the thought of what could have been for my former family. I no longer wonder and question if I have a place in the world. Because I have found it beside the one man who has yet to let me down.

My heart is filled with love and warmth I have never felt. My days are spent basking in affection and care that you were unable to give. I am…happier than ever.

But I wish you were here, to see the women I have become. To know that, I am loved and cared for.

Sincerely,

A daughter who no longer grieves you.

_

tag list: @mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24

[i-understand-vangogh]

these are my baby boys.

“i need them in a way that’s offensive to feminism” broski nation

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 4 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: She isn't good for him, but she keeps coming back. What is a man like Matthew Joy meant to do??

warnings: smut, aggression, dubious consent, fingering, penetration, unprotected sex, trust issues lol.

word count: 2574k

Dream Sweet in Sea Major- Miracle Musical 🎶

Another shout out to @everandforeveryours for feeding me inspiration. 1 more part coming... maybe 2? I have an ending in mind for sure!

Matthew awoke with a soft gasp as he felt his body start to fall as he slept. He was still sitting against the wall but had slumped over and forced himself awake. His hands kneaded the straw mattress as he tried to gather his bearings. The whale oil lamp was turned down low so the room was dark and stuffy. Matthew felt sore and feverish after being thrown overboard. He couldn’t get sick, not now. It would be a death sentence to the whole crew. 

Weakly, Matthew lowered himself down onto the mattress and covered himself with the wool blanket. His back spasmed as he did so and he gritted his teeth to keep from gasping in pain. His dark brown hair was plastered against his forehead and he looked more pale than usual. Even his freckles were pale, as if his coloring had been ironed flat. Closing his eyes again, Matthew tried to fall asleep. He returned to the dream he’d been having before with a peculiar quickness. 

In his dream he could see Y/N lying on a rock, surrounded by waves. She was in her human-form and wearing a white dress like a little girl. Beyond her, Matthew spotted a sperm whale breaching the surface for air. Its blowhole sent a spray of water and grime into the air. The girl looked at the way over her shoulder. When the whale finally descended again, she turned and looked right at Matthew. Suddenly, he was there on the rock with her. She could see him and speak to him. Looking between his eyes for a moment, she took a breath and warned him. 

Beware the white whale. 

…

When he woke up again, he looked around the small cabin in confusion. Something else had woken him up this time. Through his squinted eyes he could see only light and shadows, moving with the motion of the ship. He heard the door open, the latch having not been properly secured. It fell open slightly and Matthew could just see into the corridor outside the Captain’s quarters. He forced himself to stand and staggered across the floor to the crude door. As his hand found the handle and started to pull it closed, a hand helped him close it.

He was too tired to react when he turned his head, seeing her standing there beside him, her hand helping him close the door. She was once again in her human-form, her pale legs iridescent with droplets of water. She wore a nicer dress than she had the first time he’d seen her. It was still white but it had long sleeves and ended at her knees. Her neckline plunged deep enough to allow Matthew a view of her glistening sternum. Her hair was braided down her back in a long braid. 

“How did you get in here?” Matthew could only think to ask. His eyes traveled up her body despite his best efforts. Before she responded, she closed and latched the door. When she faced him, her eyes were downcast as if she were embarrassed. Matthew took a deep breath and skipped to his next question, one that seemed more relevant, 

“Why are you here?” He asked and watched as she removed her hand from his and turned away. As she moved away, he felt himself reach for her. His hand gripped her upper arm and pulled her back to face him. Her green eyes rose to meet his gaze and they were wet with old tears. His fingers tightened around the fleshy part of her arm, seeming to forget that she wasn’t human like he was and couldn’t feel the same pain. 

“I said, why are you here Y/N?” His voice was harsher as he spoke through his teeth, “you made it clear the last time we spoke that we couldn’t be together, and yet, here you are… again.” As he said the last sentence, his eyes softened. Despite his best attempts, he loved the girl in front of him, her contradictions and all. 

“I made a mistake… I’m making one now too,” her voice was soft and distracted. She wasn’t making much sense. His grip loosened and she exhaled slowly, her eyes turning fully to hold his gaze. 

“I hope you can understand how much I love you and why that means we can’t be together. Can you see I did what I did because I love you? I’m trying to keep you alive…” 

“Then why do you keep coming back?” He looked her up and down, his heart racing as she licked her lips. 

“I don’t know.” She answered his question honestly and looked between his eyes. Matthew sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tucked his other hand across his bare chest. His shoulders slumped slightly and his stomach contracted after each breath. His body was sore but he still managed to pull the girl violently to him and kiss her. She was weak in his hold as he held her up on the balls of her feet. His hands held her arms down at her side but it’s not like she was trying to get away. 

He was kissing her so hard that her head was forced back against the wall behind her. Their breathing became heavy as they kissed, teeth pulling at lips and tongues. Pausing for only a moment, Matthew ripped her dress from her body. The fabric split down her chest and slipped down to her feet. 

“Didn’t you know, love? It’s bad luck for a woman to be clothed on a ship,” Matthew went back to kissing her, hauling her away from the wall in his sore arms. He hissed against her lips when he tossed her on the small bunk. 

“Matthew, you’re hurt…” she sat up on her elbows, her brow furrowed. 

“It’s nothing. Just bruising,” Matthew explained in a whisper and leaned over her, his wrists supporting his weight on the mattress. His kiss was slower and softer now that she was on his bed, lying below him. Her hands tenderly explored the muscles on his chest and felt as his muscles contracted below each movement of her finger. 

“God, look at you,” Matthew groaned against her cheek. His hands took her waist and situated her body where he wanted it on the bed. His arm brushed against her bare breast as he moved his hands back to her arms. Matthew pinned her hands above her head against the wreath of her dark hair. 

“I need you… I’d give anything for you,” his breath was hot and heavy against her neck. He kissed her skin, making her peach fuzz stand on end where he kissed. 

“You already have me, sailor.” 

As she said it, Matthew pulled his face back and looked into her pale green eyes. His chest rose and fell so close above her breasts that she could feel the heat from his body. 

“No, not yet but I will.” He responded seriously and let his eyes wander down her body to her knees. With one of his hands, Matthew aggressively spread the girl’s legs and wrapped them around his hips. He’d already had her before but it felt new again as he pressed his erection against her wet cunt. Gasping softly, she pushed against him and moved her hips in a circle. Matthew took his hand and forced two fingers into the girl’s open mouth. She sucked them gently as he kept holding her down. 

“There, that’s it, love.”

Then, removing his fingers from her mouth, Matthew penetrated her with his middle and pointer fingers. He used his thumb to rub her clit, his pressure hard and unforgiving. The girl below him whimpered as he worked her walls into a stretch. The sensation of her natural lubricant on his fingers made his erection even more painful as it strained against his pants. Once he had worked her up enough where she was red in the face and panting, he removed his fingers and sucked them clean. In the next second, Matthew pulled down his pants and teased himself on her entrance. 

“God, just put it in already!” She whimpered before Matthew clapped his hand across her mouth, silencing her. 

“Be quiet, love.” His dark eyelashes fluttered when he finally pushed inside of her. Somehow it was even better than their first time. Matthew hissed loudly as he completely filled her up, hitting the base of her uterus before slowly pulling out again. His back was already spasming from the effort and he tried to ignore it as he thrusted a second time. Sensing that he was losing strength, she pushed him off and forced him back down in her old place.  

“You can still have me, sailor, but perhaps in another way?” She suggested with a shy smile. Still smiling with lust, Matthew smirked and caught on to her meaning. 

“Show me, love,” he nodded and held both of her fleshy hips as she rose on her knees, finding his cock with one of her hands. Holding it straight, the girl lowered herself onto it and nearly gasped out loud. Matthew shushed her kindly and helped guide her down, supporting her so she could go slow. 

“Damn, it feels so fucking good.” Matthew threw his head back, his Adam's apple poking up as he swallowed. He quickly raised it again so he could watch the girl begin to move with more flexibility. She twisted her hips and moved back and forth, working quiet moans from the both of them. She covered her own mouth as she kept up her pace on his cock. She could feel him leak around her, making the base of his cock wet with their sweat and precum. 

She supported herself by pushing one hand against one of his pectoral muscles. Matthew offered her additional support by moving one of his hands to her elbow. Her eyes screamed out in thanks as she changed pace, snapping her hips down and bouncing up and down on her knees. 

“There you go, love. You know just what to do, don’t you?” He gave her a soft laugh and wrapped her hair around his hand, holding it away from her back. Using her hair, he pulled her down to his lips and rubbed his nose against her’s. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” He asked her between their whines. When she didn’t respond, Matthew kissed her. He breathed in through his nose and she nearly melted below his mouth as he bit her bottom lip. 

“I don’t know you at all, and yet, I love you more than anything,” he told her when he released her fat lip. Her eyes poured into his as she sped up her hips. Matthew began to thrust up into her, losing control of his body. She was so wet around him that he could hear the movement of his cock inside her, through layers of muscle and bone. 

“Ride me until the end, love.”

The Siren nodded and arched her back. Matthew grabbed her hand and watched as she worked herself up to a blinding climax. His groans slipped into quiet moans and exhales as she squeezed around him, prompting his own orgasm. They both stifled their shouts of pleasure and stumbled through their climaxes, swapping cum. Finally, she leaned forward again and waited for him to speak. Matthew brushed her hair away from her face and pulled her to his chest. Pulling out as he did, she collapsed against his chest. She could feel every muscle in his chest as she rested her cheek on his body. His heart was racing, the same as hers. 

She rolled over and allowed her head to rest upon his bicep. Matthew rolled his head to the side and watched her. Her lips were parted as she caught her breath. They were both naked save the short breeches caught between Matthew’s legs. Sweat sparkled on the girl’s body, catching his attention. Though he was tired, Matthew propped himself up beside her and lowered his face to her stomach, licking the drops of sweat from her skin. She tasted like salt, both from her body and from the sea. His nose trailed the curvature of muscle leading from her sternum to her navel. The Siren’s hand cupped the back of his freckled neck and ran up into his dark brown hair. She tugged affectionately and petted him like a dog, encouraging a smile from the man above her. 

“I don’t think I have ever loved the ocean more,” Matthew whispered between long drawn out licks. “For having made you was the greatest gift of all.” 

“Quiet now, sailor. Come here and kiss me,” the girl smiled and giggled as Matthew did as she requested, pressing his lips against hers. 

…

“I should leave now, before dawn,” Y/N’s voice broke the calm silence between them. Matthew turned his face to process her sentence. With a disappointed nod, he sat up in the bunk and buttoned his pants. 

“I’ll walk you to the railing.” 

By then, his clothes had dried where he laid them the day before. Having ripped the dress from her body, the Siren was naked, so Matthew handed her his shirt and helped her tie the front laces. 

“It’s bad luck for a woman to wear clothes on a ship,” Y/N laughed softly at Matthew who shrugged his head to the side. 

“That’s true… but it’s only for a moment,” Matthew pursed his lips in faux-thought. Hand in hand, Matthew led her up to the deck of the Essex. Dawn hadn’t breached the horizon but the skin had brightened enough to see a few feet in front of them. The men would be up and working soon, recovering from the storm. She started to mount the railing when Matthew stopped her. 

“Wait, before you go… I had the oddest dream about you and… and a white whale. It’s the same whale the Captain has been chasing, the one that even Owen is beginning to obsess over. They both see it as a trial of some kind. Anyway, you told me to ‘beware.’ Do you know such a whale?” 

She furrowed her brow and nodded worriedly. 

“Yes, I do. Matthew, it’s a red herring. Whatever you do, don’t let these men try to best the beast. You will never win against nature. You can never win against something like me… something born of the sea-”

Voices rose from below the deck and Matthew checked over his shoulder. 

“Promise me you won’t join them in this madness,” her hand grasped his and squeezed painfully tight. 

“I have no control over them-”

“Then make them listen. You must promise, promise that you’ll try.” 

Matthew furrowed his dark eyebrows and took a sharp breath. 

“I promise…” 

“Joy!” 

Matthew turned. She was gone. 

“What the hell are you doing above deck?” One of the deckhands greeted him with a smile and a gentle pat on the back which was still bright purple with bruising. 

“The storm has passed,” Matthew could only think to say and gestured to the calmer sea. 

“For now, I heard Owen saying the Captain wants to chase it, he thinks the whale is following it too.” 

“Where is the Captain?” Matthew’s voice darkened. 

“In his quarters, sir.” 

“Right, watch the horizon. I’ll be back.”

....

End of Pt. 4!

[call-sign-shark]

Day 2: Cut Your Wings || Alfie Solomons x Reader

Requested by a lovely Anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- cut, dubcon, blood, inflected pain, masturbation?, enemies with sexual tension, canonical violence, dirty talk, sexual torture, kidnapping

Words: 2K

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. Also this one ain't as smutty as I thought because I got carried away by the narrative?? Shark please, that ain't the goal of Kinktober??

A grunt escaped from your lips as you desperately tried to free yourself from the heavy shackles imprisoning your wrists. You moved them back and forth, then left and right, turning your hands in every position possible, and yet nothing worked. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip from them. Another painful moan echoed in the damp and dark room of the distillery in which the jew's henchmen had locked you a few hours ago. The cold metal bit your flesh again. "Fuck". When loud footsteps resounded behind the heavy wooden door of your prison, you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and prayed to God for a quick and painless death because you knew that Alfie Solomons wasn't a forgiving man. Quite the contrary, his quick temper, and frightening antics only fueled his reputation as one of the most dangerous criminals in London.

"So that's the fucking little rat my men told me about." He stated, standing in the middle of the open door, both of his hands resting on the handle of his cane and a black hat hiding one of his hazel gray eyes.

"Fuck you, fucking cunt! When Tommy will know about this y'all going to regret it!" Words passed your thoughts, spitting their venom at him and yet the man remained silent. You even wondered if he had paid attention to what you just said or if the voices in his head were louder than yours. His gaze, intense and unfathomable, was observing you attentively as if he was trying to decipher the secrets of the most unique precious stone he had even held in his palm. After what seemed to be an eternity, Alfie Solomons pursued his lips, stroked his scruffy beard, and nodded, coming to an agreement with himself.

"See, my mates here told me that Tommy Shelby had sent a few men to London, but here's the problem – He said 'men'. And not 'little girl', which is definitely what you are. A bloody and nosey little girl. Hmhm." He agreed with his own statement before walking to the dusty furniture that was leaning against one of the brick walls. Then, he took off his hat and his long dark coat, and put the cane aside before walking towards you. He stopped in front of you, tattooed arms crossed on his muscular chest. The unusual amount of greenish ink deeply engraved in his skin caught your attention for a short while, you curiously observing the pattern it formed. Of course, both Tommy and Arthur had tattoos, but not as many as the mad baker.

"Would you look at ya. Haven't you something else to do instead of following a Birmingham scumbag's orders? Like finding yourself a man or something like this, y'know. 'Cause I don't see why such a young lass like ya puts her own life into danger for Tommy fucking Shelby." As he talked, Alfie had closed the distance between you and him. He was now leaning above you, so close that his scorching breath was fanning over your skin and the hairs of his beard were almost tickling your face. "So can you tell me why? The only reason I see is that Tommy Shelby sticks his cock in you and it has magically bred some loyalty." The right corner of his full lips curled into a mocking grin when he noticed how his words had lit a fire of rage in your eyes. Bang on, he thought, "No. It's more complex than that, innit? He doesn't want you and yet you remained devoted to him in the hope that one day, maybe, he'd look at you differently. He'd look at you like a woman to fuck senseless and not a pawn of his game."

"Kill me, Solomons. Kill me now or I'll fucking cut you once I'll be out of this shit-stinking place." You hissed, baring your teeth like a cornered animal, the truth hurting you more than a gunwound. For a split second, Alfie swore you would have dug your fangs into his throat, sinking them deep until you tasted blood if you hadn't been restrained by chains and handcuffs.

"Cut me?" The baker repeated these two words, pretending to be surprised while the tone in his voice betrayed how amused he was, "And what kind of tool would you use to cut me? This?" As he said so, Alfie pulled your grey beret out of the large pocket of his trousers, holding it to have a good grip at the base of the razor blades that were sewn to the fabric. "You Peaky girl like to cut people with this right? So come on, threaten me again little bird, I dare you." He said with both of his eyebrows raised in a taunting expression.

"D'ya think you're scaring me? I'm not scared, I'm a Peaky Blinder and I'm going to make things clear again: you better kill me now because if you miss this chance, I'll fucking cut your face the next time we meet–" You didn't finish your sentence, your words replaced by a scream of pain when Alfie, without a single warning, slashed your arm with your peaky cap. Blood soon filled the gash and overflowed from it, soaking the white fabric of your shirt in a crimson stain.

"Go ahead, dove. Say it again." This time you remained silent, staring at him in horror. He had cut deep, deep enough for you to feel the sickening pulse of your own heart in the wound. Your refusal to obey led Alfie to burst into an unexpected rage. His face reddened, and his brows furrowed, casting their shadow eyes. With one strong and brutal movement, Alfie's free hand grabbed your face, his calloused fingers sinking into your cheeks until your jaw hurt. "SAY IT AGAIN AND I'LL CUT YOUR FUCKING WINGS!" He barked, a bit of spit spilled in his beard and bloodshot eyes staring at your very soul. "See, you don't stand a chance here my sweet dove. You're just a little girl playing gangsters". In an unsettling mood swing, his temper had gone quiet again.

"I'm not gonna kill you peaky girl, that would be too easy. I see your eyes, and what I see in them is that you ain't afraid of death and I reckon this is a trait I particularly fancy in someone. So what should I do with you? We might..." He made a short pause when he noticed a tiny detail he hadn't spotted before. Alfie's hazel grey eyes abandoned yours and dropped to your bosom where he could see the round shape of your hardened nipples pointing through the fabric of your shirt. Licking his lips, Alfie's iris darkened with mischief and something you never expected to witness in the eyes of an enemy – lust. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine as the baker's smirk suddenly turned into a wicked and threatening smile, "I know, dove. I know what I'm going to do with you. Everything's clear in my mind". A sparkle of pure madness enlightened his face, just like an artist struck by inspiration. With his words followed his hand, that came meeting your trembling body. His strong palm roamed all over you, the friction it created snatching a whimper from your tight throat while you understood his obscene plans.

"No, no! Please! Alfie--" You wanted to scream but you couldn't, petrified from the moment his fingers trailed down your belly and ended their exploration between your legs. The noisy juggling of the chains you produced by struggling sounded like a melody in Alfie's ears, who hummed in satisfaction at your cunt's warmth he could feel through the fabric of your trousers. His fingers pressed a bit more against your core, shooting a wave of forbidden arousal through your entire body and making your legs shake.

"You're in heat, lil' dove." He noted with an amused tone before closing the distance between your ear and his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut at the overwhelming scratching sensation of his gruff beard against your skin and the blazing blast of his breath. The room spun as you found yourself intoxicated by the fragrance of his cologne. Musky, and with a dab of cedarwood. His scent was as raw and wild as him. "I'm pretty sure you're all wet, aren't you?" He cooed in your ear. His rough fingers, applying pressure at the exact spot where your throbbing clit was, started to rub it in slow and circular motions. As much as you hated the thought of it, his skillful caresses lit a fire of desire within you, so much that you felt your own wetness soaking your panties, "How long since a man stretched that lonely pussy?"

"Don't touch me!" You growled, but as convincing as you had tried to sound convincing you still failed judging by how Alfie's brow arched. He let out a dark chuckle. Doing the exact opposite, his fingers kept fondling your sensitive bud but this time his wet and warm tongue licked your neck just like a predator would do to get a first taste of his freshly caught prey.

"Oh I'm not gonna touch you dove." The muffled sound of your cap falling on the concrete ground made you open your eyes again. You had barely lifted your eyelids when your gaze met Alfie's other hand, who was kneading his massive bulge. As afraid as you were, you could not help but let out a soft yet needy moan "I'm not gonna touch you. What I'm going to do cannot be described, no no it can't because I don't want God to hear it. What I can tell you though is that you'll never come back to Birmingham once you'll know the feeling of my cock buried deep inside you." His words' immediate effects upon you had your teased pussy clenching onto nothing and reminding you how desperately empty you were. An emptiness Tommy would never fill, "Are you thinking about him now?"

You weren't.

Alfie didn't need you to answer, for the way you brought your hips closer to his fingers and grind against them was enough. The mad baker's mouth sucked on the sensitive flesh of your neck, pinching it between his lips to leave a bright red mark on you, claiming his newly acquired property. All these sensations soon became unbearable: the friction of your shirt against your erected tits, the cold bite of the handcuffs on your wrists, and the increasingly faster rubbing of your clit destroyed what remained of your will of fighting. Never in your life you had been touched for you had always kept your virginity unspoiled for Thomas. A stupid and fruitless devotion.

You gave in to the pleasure and surprised yourself by thinking about how big Alfie's dick looked, unable to look anywhere else.

"Don't s-stop." You muttered under your breath, your climax building as Alfie kept assaulting your sweet bundle of nerves: he was nothing but gentle with it, almost hurting you with how rough he rubbed you. With your mouth parted and your breath quickening, you felt the delightful warmth of an orgasm coming but, all of sudden, Alfie stopped.

"Enough for today. We'll see if you deserve more tomorrow." He said.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

tags: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 1 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd

[sneakyblinders]

seeing clearly

A/n: part of my tommy and his darling wife au. warnings: breastfeeding a baby, alluding to smut but no smut. not canon.

You cracked the door to your bedroom open, eyeing your husband, sitting in bed, propped up with fluffy pillows, smoking a cigarette. "Good morning," you smiled. He gave you a weak smile. "Hello, Gorgeous," he said, head lolling to the side to look at you. You sat on the edge of the bed, fingers gently tangling with his. "How do you feel today?" you ask gently, pulling his hand to your lips. "Head hurts still," he rasped, eyes sensitive to the light. "I'm sorry, lovey," you coo. He readjusts himself beneath the blankets. You notice a discarded book on your side of the bed, narrowing your eyes. "Trying to read?" you ask.

Tommy lets out a disgruntled sound, tossing his cigarette into the ashtray on his nightstand. His lips are in a pout, debating on whether to divulge the truth to you or not. He knew you'd find out regardless, but didn't want you worrying unnecessarily. Especially with how much you'd worried over him the last year anyhow. "What's wrong?" you ask, dark eyes filled with worry. "Thomas, tell me," you tell him softly, squeezing his hand tighter. "I'm--" he struggled to say it aloud. "I'm still having problems seeing," he said hesitantly. "Oh, Thomas," you sigh, reaching up to touch his face softly. He leans into your touch, missing how you felt near him, around him, close to him. You'd treated him with such gentleness, such kindness, such care. He didn't deserve you, he knew that all of your lives together, but with you nursing him back to health, it solidified his knowledge. "What if you tried wearing glasses?" you ask. He huffed. "Me?" he looked at you, displeased at the thought. "I think not, my love." "But if it helps you see, Thomas," you try and reason with him. "Would you try it, please? For me?" He sighed, the fuzziness of your features bothering him. He squeezed your hand. "I will, my love."

A few weeks later, he was well enough to go to the doctor, who had given him a thorough eye examination and deemed him in need of glasses. He sighed, picking out a pair of gold, wire rimmed glasses. They were simple enough, not too much to attract a bunch of attention. He was eager to return to his home, to see his wife and new baby, Katherine. Peter was excited that his father was now well enough to walk down the stairs and see him for a few moments throughout the day. Thomas had missed them.

Simmons drove him back to his home, saying little. Tommy had his glasses in a case in his jacket pocket, still reluctant to wear them. When he walked through the front door, Peter ran to him, telling him of a new book he had just got from his grandparents through the mail. "I can't wait to see it," Tommy told him, smiling at his son. "Will you read it to me? Mummy says some of the words are too big for me," he asks, big blue eyes pleading with his father. Tommy takes a sharp breath in. "Of course, son. We'll read it tonight before bed, eh?" Peter smiled widely. "Where is your mother and the baby?" he asks. Peter led him up the stairs to the nursery. The door was shut, often an indication you were nursing. "Go find Frances and tell her that I'd like that chocolate pudding for dessert tonight, eh?" he tells his son. "That's my favorite, Daddy!" he says. "Mine too, son. Run along," he says, smiling as Peter bounds down the steps to find Frances. He knocks gently on the door. You call gently for him to come in. You were seated in the rocking chair, baby at your breast. His heart swelled. "Hello, Darling," you tell him, eyes bright. He sits down on the footstool in front of the rocking chair, eyeing his dark haired baby girl nuzzled at her mothers breast. He gently strokes the back of her head. "Daddy's home," you coo to the baby. "She's still so small," he says, in disbelief of this little tiny baby that was his. "But she's getting stronger," you tell him, a smile on your face. "How did the eye doctor go, my love?" Your husband sighed, shoulders sagging. "They gave me glasses." "Oh, let me see!" you said. The baby had decided she was done eating, and you raised her to your shoulder to burp her, pulling up the neckline of your dress. He hesitantly pulled his glasses from his pocket and put them on. "Oh, Mr. Shelby," you say, a devious smirk on your face. "You look quite handsome," he shakes his head, laughing incredulously. "I don't think so," he starts, but you cut him off. "I think you look very handsome. Dashing. Kingly." you tell him, and a smirk grows on his face as he looks up--able to see you clearly. And you're beautiful, he thinks. The baby burped, and you turned her to face her father, her little head resting on your chest. "Tell Daddy he looks handsome, Katherine," you whisper to the baby, who smiles at her father, her blue eyes beaming at him. He smiles softly. "Tell your mother she's ridiculous," he whispers to the baby, a goofy smile on his face, making the baby gurgle and clap her hands. He takes Katherine from your arms, cradling her against his chest. "Really, Thomas, I think you look most handsome. If they help you see, Darling, that's what really matters." you say, adjusting the top of your dress again. "I suppose," he grumbles, getting up and fetching a baby blanket, lying it on the floor, laying the baby on her stomach on the floor. "She is getting stronger," he observed. She was able to hold her neck up on her own finally, and getting better about it every day.

That night, you came to bed after feeding the baby one last time, Thomas not in bed yet. You walked back down the hall and found him in Peter's room, reading his new book to him. "Father, why do you wear glasses now?" Peter asked as Thomas shut the book. "After my injury, it was harder for me to see. I need them so I can see you grow up," Tommy said, standing from his seated position on Peter's bedside. "And to see your beautiful mother and sister. And to read you stories." "They're nice, Father." Peter tells him, yawning. "Thank you, son. Goodnight," Tommy tells him, flicking off the light and exiting the room, finding you standing outside the door. "Eavesdropping, my angel?" he asks. "Our son is so kind," you tell him, pressing your head to his chest. "He is, my dear, just like his mother," Tommy tells you, kissing the top of your head. Tommy eyed himself in the mirror of your vanity in your room with his glasses, still unsure of his appearance. "Thomas," you say softly, coming up behind him, hands on his bare chest. "Stop worrying," you press a kiss to his shoulder blade and goosebumps rise on his arms. "May I show you how handsome I think you look in them?" you ask, hand dipping beneath the waistband of his sleep pants. His response was a moan to your touch. You come in front of him and drop to your knees, your back to the vanity, so he could see in the mirror, something you'd learned a few years ago that drove him wild.

A few minutes later he was a panting, moaning mess above you, a hand tangled in your hair as he came down from his high of pleasure. "Believe me now?" you ask, pressing a kiss to his thigh. He pulls you up by your shoulder, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you against him, lips crashing to yours in a searing kiss. He pulled away, breathless. "I believe you." he told you, pressing his forehead to yours.

If he had to wear glasses for the rest of his life, it was a damn good thing his wife liked him in them.

[rumandcigaretes]

Look what I found yesterday

That's so wholesome 😍🤠

And have a little bit of specific chemistry

DON'T YOU THINK???

[paradise-yuna]

Happy 10th Anniversary of Peaky Blinders 🥳🥂

Credits belongs to 😍

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Masterlist

Summary: (Begins at season 1) A young American woman accidently gets lost and left behind during her family trip in England. Now she's left alone in the sketchy town of Birmingham. What will happen when she meets a family rumored to be full of notorious and dangerous gangsters? Warnings: swearing, inappropriate language, guns

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[throughgoeshamilton]

Revelations

A The Other Shelby story

Pairing: Alfie Solomons × fem!reader (OC hybrid)

Summary: The Shelby sister is torn between her loyalty to her brother and his Jewish frenemy who also happens to be her lover.

Words: 1.900

Warnings: none

The Other Shelby stories: Resurrection

A/N: Thank you @cillmequick again for beta reading this and your endless support 🫂 Also tagging @buttercupsandboys because you asked me ☺️

"So your brother still doesn't know about us?"

"No, and if you wanna keep your eyesight, it's better if it stays that way."

"Y'know, the little trick you played on me last year with your grenade... I think that makes us all even, doesn't it? I think it really does."

“I think what really makes us all even is that I'm fucking someone who betrayed the Shelby family and so is Tommy.”

She furrowed her brows as she stared at the ceiling, her hand stroking up and down her lover's broad chest that was covered with ink and hair. Her brother's wife wasn't her taste at all but she knew she had no right to talk some sense into him for marrying an Irish spy. Not when she was spending that much time with the very man who sold Tommy and her family for a deal with Sabini two years prior. But Alfie was right, she and Tommy had paid him back well when they had forced him to overthink his outrageous demand to have all of their businesses written over to him. And if the worst had come to the worst, she would've blown his arse off, lover or not.

Although she had to admit, it would have broken her heart. Even though they didn't put a name on their relationship, two years were a long time to get to know each other, to grow close. After everything that had gone down at Epsom, with Tommy reconnecting with Grace over their child and his unreasonable love for her, she had needed to spend some time away from her family, for the first time in her life ever since Mrs Shelby took her in as a little girl. She and Tommy had always been attached at the hip, from dirty streets used as playgrounds as kids to dirty business giving them money and power as adults. Still, she could not forgive his wife for coming into their life with the sole purpose of ruining it. That was the line she had drawn, the difference between Grace and Alfie. Her mission had been spying on the Shelbys from day one, working together with a man as vile as Campbell, while Alfie had been doing his business as usual, making deals, breaking them and trying to get the most out of it all. She could excuse his behaviour because that was what gangsters did and she had spent enough time around them to know what they were like. She was one of them.

Whether she made that excuse for Alfie because he was who he was to her or not, she wasn't sure. She had been attracted to him pretty early on and escaping to Camden, to him, had been a welcome change. At first, it had been mainly his sheets where she had spent her time with him - or rather his desk in his office at the bakery. It had taken them some time to take it to his bedroom, some intimacy and closeness before they would spend the whole night together and sometimes even wake up next to each other.

Whatever this was, it was good for both of them. He valued her input on business related matters, everything that didn't have to do with the Peaky Blinders, of course, and her wit and attitude she liked to give him most times. She liked the freedom she had in London, the control she could take over her own life outside of gang wars - and she enjoyed feeling wanted and appreciated by Alfie in every way.

Tommy didn't know about the more or less romantic arrangement she had with his former business partner then enemy now business partner again and if she wanted to keep up her attitude towards Grace, it had to stay that way.

“Y'know luv, I think as much as you dislike your good sister, you cannot complain, ya really can't. You were at their wedding and gave them your blessing” Alfie let her know his thoughts on her little family drama while he scratched his beard as if he was deep in thought.

She rolled her eyes at him and sat up, wrapping the thin blanket around her body to cover up her breasts as she looked down at him with a frown.

“I declined his request, I think that was enough of a hint that I do not approve of their bond.”

Despite all the bad blood between her and his bride, Tommy had still asked her to be his best woman at his wedding - just another anomaly that Thomas Shelby wouldn't have given a single fuck about if anyone had questioned why he had his sister as his closest confidant at his wedding instead of one of his brothers. It hadn't got that far because she wanted to spend as little time as possible at the wedding and around Grace’s entourage. That had been her official excuse too because “Do you know who used to grab my arse the most in the field hospitals? Those fucking red uniforms”. Of course, Tommy had known that hadn't been the real reason - or at least not the only one - but he still had had the smallest bit of hope to build bridges between the two women closest to him in his life.

“Why are you naked in ma bed and we're talking about ya brother anyway?”

“In all honesty, you started it. You're so obsessed with him” she chuckled before lying back down into his arms, making Alfie now roll his eyes at her.

“C’mere you little minx and let me show you ma real obsession.”

-

"Does my sister happen to be with you?"

"Tommy, shalom, my old friend. How can I help you?"

"I asked you a question, Alfie."

"Yeah yeah... what was that about again?"

He could hear the man on the other end take a deep breath.

"I asked you whether my SISTER is in your FUCKING BAKERY."

Alfie allowed himself a few seconds, leaving Tommy hanging by a thread judging by the heavy breathing that came from the speaker that he held against his ear.

"Hm... no Tommy, no she isn't. Why would she be 'ere eh? That woman tried to blow my arse off last time you put foot in ma bakery."

Tommy didn't believe him. He knew his sister was hiding something from him in London. That was why she was there all the time. But if his suspicions were true, and she was indeed spending time with the Jewish gangster, his old sparring partner better be sure to help him find her.

"If you happen to see her in London, tell her that I need her to come home immediately" he let him know in a strained voice before he hung up the telephone.

-

It was the two days later when Alfie made the decision to tell her about her brother's call. He had been hesitant at first. Why did her brother know about them? Had she told him? If she had, it wouldn't have bother him but he appreciated honesty, especially from the woman he shared a bed with.

"Treacle" he finally spoke up while clearing his throat, "there was someone on the telephone for you two days ago."

She looked up from the morning paper, slowly chewing on her toast some more as she raised an eyebrow at him.

"And?" she asked impatiently when Alfie didn't continue to speak.

He let out a heavy sight before speaking on.

"'t was your brother. He said you should come home immediately."

The paper made a slight crackling sound as she put it down with force, standing up with her hands pressed onto the table. If looks could kill, Alfie would've dropped dead on the spot. But he kept his calm. He knew she would be angry at him but he had his reasons to hold back this information. The more he had thought about it, the more possible it had seemed that this was Tommy bluffing. Maybe he didn't know about them after all, he was just testing the water, hoping an emergency call like that would give him the proof he was looking for - and a reason to punish her for sharing the bed with someone who once tried to fuck him over. His kid sister was the apple of Tommy's eye so Alfie didn't think he could be that cruel to her, but maybe that was the reason it had hurt him even more when he found out - or rather started to suspect - that she was indeed fucking his former enemy.

“And you didn't think about telling me earlier? Like, right away maybe, Alfred?”

Full name base was never a good sign but Alfie had known what to expect when he would finally break the news to her.

“We don't know what he wants. Maybe t’was a test. You know how he is. I tried to protect ya from him finding out.”

She dropped her head and closed her eyes for a second before pushing herself off the table and rushing towards the door.

“Tell your men to get my car ready, I'm packing.”

Alfie sighed but knew better than to talk back when she was this angry at him. She didn't have time for any discussion with him now but he could be sure to hear a few words about this from her once she was back from Birmingham.

-

As she entered the ridiculously huge mansion, John was storming through the hall, not even giving her one glance of attention. His face was red and he looked like he was ready to kill someone.

"John, what-" she tried to reason with her brother, turning around trying to make him stop in his furious tracks.

"NOT NOW!"

Shortly after him came Arthur, not looking any more cheerful. When she faced him with a questioning look, he slightly shook his head before embracing her in a short hug.

"I'll go after John but you need to talk to Tommy. He's in his office."

First Tommy's crude message he gave to Alfie, now this weird behaviour from her brothers. What the hell had happened here?

She took a few more steps into the house, crossing the grande staircase where Grace's oversized portrait greeted her, making her cringe. When she reached the door to Tommy's office, she gave it a quick knock before entering without being invited to.

"You better have a good reason to have such an anxiety-inducing message delivered to me."

Tommy stood in front of his window, not even flinching when he heard the rather annoyed tone of voice. Silence fell upon them. Half a minute passed, then a whole. She took a few steps towards him until she had reached his desk. It was only now, that she saw a pattern. He was dressed in a black suit, so had been John and Arthur when she saw them mere minutes ago. Suits were nothing special to them, but all black was a rare occasion, thankfully.

"Tommy... What happened?"

She crossed the distance between them and put her hand on his shoulder carefully, but still making him flinch. The few seconds they stood there like that felt like an eternity to her as she thought about all the people she hadn't seen yet, and John's anger. Was it Esme? Polly? One of the kids? Tommy clenched his jaw before he finally started to speak to the curtains

"Grace is dead."

[feninina]

˚◞♡. ✧˖° ꒰ 𝙛𝙚𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙖 ༘⋆ ꙳

𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 !

･῾ ᵎ ⌇— nina. xviii. scorpio. cill’s wife. 🕸️

. ˚◞♡

2222222 🦇

requests are: open !

. ˚◞♡

✧˖° currently obsessed with/writing for: johnny from bikeriders, anakin skywalker and cillian murphy!

⩩ ꜞ other characters i write for are: here

[evita-shelby]

A masterlist for all fics and moodboards involving Diane Shelby, the oc daughter of my oc, Eva Smith, and Tommy Shelby from Peaky Blinders.

Divider by @saradika

Some works are rated MA and will say on their own post

Peaky Blinders

Solomons and Shelby masterlist (Diane ft. @raincoffeeandfandoms Allie Solomons)

Diane Elizabeth Shelby (moodboard)

Ghosts of New Years past

World on Fire

Tie your heart to mine (tom bennett x diane)

With the punctuality of a headlong train (one shot series)

Hugs

Shooting star

Stargazing

Mist

Apple cider

Masters of the Air

No has to know (Gale 'Buck' Cleven x Diane)

Di rhymes with Die (moodboard)

Doppelganger (Bill Veal x Diane ft Tommy Shelby x Eva Shelby)

No one but you (au to no one has to know where Buck and Diane do get together)

It's only a paper moon (John C. "Bucky" Egan x Diane)

Paper moons (moodboard)

Petting (slightly nsfw Bucky x Diane)

The question of age (mainly tommy and alfie with bucky x diane in the background)

Forbidden (moodboard for no one has to know)

No one but you part 2(epilogue for no one has to know

A worthy man (tommy shelby ft diane and gales wedding)

Too many beds (John Egan x Diane , slightly smuff)

The Pullet story (John Egan x Diane)

Paper fucking moon (aka where john and diane break up featuring @precious-little-scoundrel 's oc)

The Two Buck Special ( bucky x buck x diane smut fic)

No Clearer Yes (bucky x diane)

The Bikeriders

Once in a lifetime (Benny x Diane, moodboard)

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 5 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

Summary: The Essex sinks and the crew is forced to test their luck. As Matthew's luck begins to run out, he waits for his Siren to save him.

Warnings: Shipwreck, thalassophobia, stranded at sea, abandonment, and drowning. This is a long installment but it is also the last installment of the series! Thank you for bearing with me. I think the end makes it worth it. I've been really busy so I apologize for the quality of this piece. It's sad... sorry.

word count: 3174k

Last Goodbye- Jeff Buckley 🎶

I Know the End- Pheobe Bridgers 🎵

Fear Not This Night- Clamavi De Profundis 🎶

Not proofread, sorry folks!

“Absolutely not, that is OUT of the question!” Captain Pollard slammed his pale fist against the table. “We cannot alter our course just because my second-mate says so.” 

“With all due respect sir, I believe it would be a death-sentence for our crew to chase the storm just to track down a whale that seems to have something against you,” Matthew’s lip curled as he tried to keep his composure. 

“I am the captain of this vessel, not you Joy. I’d like to remind you of that fact.” 

“It is a fair observation, sir. The men are all worried about the true intentions behind this choice,” Owen piped up from the corner of the room. 

“I don’t take orders from either of you, do you understand?” Captain Pollard’s voice was harsh as his tongue crushed against his teeth. He raised an authoritative eyebrow and Matthew swallowed. 

“I have reason to believe that this will only lead to disaster, sir. It is my job to speak on behalf of my experience and the lives of the men under my command-”

“And WHO, Joy, is under my command?” The captain leaned forward and clasped his hands together. The lantern above their heads swayed. 

Matthew met his eyes and clenched his jaw. Y/N’s warning swirled around in his memory like a tidal pool. How could he balance respect with advocacy? He had to talk some sense into the Captain before it was too late. 

“Answer my question, second-mate.” The captain’s eyes narrowed. 

Matthew unfocused his eyes on the man and swallowed down everything that he would have liked to say. 

“We are, sir.” 

“That is exactly right, Joy, and as captain I command you and the rest of my men to chase the storm. It will dissipate soon and in that time, we will have the whale.”

The lantern sailed across the room, smashing against the wall of the ship. The wick’s fire lay exposed and set some of the floor on fire. Before Matthew could throw anything on the fire to quell it, the ship jerked once again. The men scrambled to stay upright, their eyes met each others’ in the dark. 

“What the hell was that?” Captain Pollard asked breathlessly, fear showing in his tone. 

“That wasn’t a wave,” Owen whispered. 

“No, it wasn’t,” Matthew didn’t have to say the word whale. They all knew. 

…

Matthew grabbed his coat on the way up to the deck. Men ran around him, shouting orders and carrying rope. The harpooners prepared their weapons and watched from the railing. The shiny white back of the whale slipped below the surface a few yards out, its tail flicked up into the air and slammed down on the side of the boat. Matthew was knocked off of his feet and rolled, cringing from his sore back. Part of the sail and railing fell into the ocean below, men scrambled to stay onboard and not be dragged down with the debris. He watched helplessly as the boat started to break apart beneath his feet. 

“Everyone get to the boats! Grab as many supplies as you can in case we need to abandon ship!” Matthew yelled. Owen reached his friend and grabbed onto Matthew’s collar. 

“We need to get off this ship, Joy. If we stay here much longer we will have to go down with her.”

“Take your men and I’ll take mine.” 

“We need to wait for Pollard’s orders.”

“Fuck his orders, come on.” 

Matthew ran to the railing and helped loosen the ropes holding the smaller whaling boats to the deck. Men dropped food and drinking water into the bottom of the boat as the ship groaned and splintered beneath their feet. 

There was a deafening explosion at the stern of the Essex, a plume of fire rose into the air. The men were silenced by the violence and panted, watching the fire catch quickly and begin to burn. 

“She hit the oil canisters! Abandon ship! Abandon ship!” Pollard tripped across the debris-ridden deck of the sinking ship. 

Pollard, Owen, and Matthew each manned a boat and organized the men into the whaling boats before they were lowered into the water. The ship burned quickly. The explosion had killed many of the sailors who had been standing on the deck. They were already a dwindled crew by the time they pushed off from the ship and rowed to a safe distance away. Matthew watched with watery eyes as the Essex sank in a fiery blaze. 

…

They’d been on the boats for hours and the late afternoon sun was baking them alive. They’d connected their boats together in an effort to share supplies and keep an eye on each other. Matthew tried to push his fury and genuine shock down so that his men couldn’t see it. The whole event had only lasted an hour, ridiculously short. Everything that they’d owned went down with the whaling ship, friends too. 

Matthew wiped sweat from his brow and tried not to glower at Owen and Pollard who spoke to each other out of his earshot. He looked down at his hands which were starting to turn red in the direct sunlight. The men in his boat were slouched against one another or lying at the very bottom between the slats. He caught himself thinking about that night he’d taken the Siren for the first time. Memories of fleeting risk seemed like child’s play in comparison to life-and-death decisions the sinking had prompted from everyone. 

He looked out at the infinite expanse of water and tried to call her to his mind, they’d done as much before when he was drowning. Surely she could see him now, surely she would do something to help them. She knew something like this would happen, she’d warned him about it. He hadn’t even had time to try to avoid the disaster, it all seemed so unfair…

The boat beside him splashed up and down abruptly. Matthew caught his breath and watched as the bottom of the boat slapped the surface of the water as it returned to its first position. Everyone froze. 

“It’s back,” Matthew whispered and as he did, the water beside him burst up into a fountain of waves. A great big eye and white blubber body surged up into the sky above him and tumbled inches away from the boats. 

“Disconnect the fucking boats!” Matthew ordered and cut the ropes holding the boats together. Being connected made them a larger target and a weaker link. Every sailor pushed away and soon the four boats were separated by yards of messy waves. 

The whale emerged again, this time boring into Matthew’s boat. Matthew fell back as the boat broke down the middle and men went flying. He fell into the water and pushed away from the boat so he wouldn’t get caught. Air bubbles escaped from his mouth as he opened his eyes underwater. He could see the whale swimming through the wreck, knocking men out of its path or pushing them deeper. Matthew swam to the surface and whipped his head around to clear the hair from his face. The men in the other boats were aiming their harpoons at the vulnerable side of the beast. Matthew grabbed a hold of a barrel of water to keep himself afloat. Some of his men began to resurface but most did not. Those that did each found a piece of floating debris and watched as the other men tried to kill the whale. 

Matthew’s heart was beating a mile a minute and he couldn’t catch his breath. He watched as the back of the whale’s fin rose high into the sky above them, blocking the sun, and then down it went onto one of the other boats, breaking a second one. The wave created by the tail scattered the men even farther apart and sent Matthew spiraling out of control. His head slammed against the side of Owen’s boat and knocked him unconscious. 

“Kill it! Kill it!” Captain Pollard nearly screeched, blood dripping from a cut on his lip. 

…

Matthew came-to on Owen’s boat, nestled between people’s legs. 

“Joy?” Owen’s voice pulled him from his dreamless sleep. Matthew blinked behind his eyelids and tried to speak but his throat was dry. He licked his cracked lips. 

“Howw… how bad is it?” Matthew groaned and went to touch the back of his head. 

Owen swallowed and looked back at the men in the boat. 

“It’s really not that bad, Joy. It’s just a little bleeding and some bruising. You’ll be fine.” 

Matthew didn’t feel fine. Things didn’t seem right. For instance, the men around him looked more scruffy than they had the day before. They looked older and sickly. He furrowed his brow and looked around the boat.

“You were out for a few days. I mean you woke up multiple times but you weren’t actually aware.” Owen admitted. 

“Days?” Matthew repeated softly and Owen nodded. Matthew tried to sit up but his head began to pound painfully. He raised his hands in front of his face to block the aggressive glare of the sun. 

“Try not to move, you need to recover.” Owen straightened the blanket over his friend. 

“The sun…” Matthew groaned and his voice broke. His mouth was horribly dry and tasted like dried blood. 

“I know but the sun will set soon. Just close your eyes.” Owen tried to block the sun with his shoulders and the shade was a welcome relief for Matthew. He began to fall asleep again, rapidly losing his ability to stay awake and aware. 

“Owen…” he whispered, “did she come back… for me?” 

Owen’s face began to blur as Matthew fell asleep. He didn’t stay awake long enough to hear his response. 

…

When Matthew woke up again he was being half-dragged and half-carried through the water. He flailed about between the arms of his savior. 

“Joy! Stop that.” Owen’s voice reprimanded him. Matthew looked up. Instead of his friend, he saw a scraggly man with an unkempt beard and foul smelling clothes. 

“Owen?” Matthew garbled and Owen chuckled weakly. 

“Do I really look that bad? Well I hate to break it to you but you don’t look so good yourself.” 

“Don’t beat me while I’m down, Owen.” Matthew tried to laugh but started to cough. He was too weak to cough and grimaced instead.

“Where are we?” Matthew asked as Owen rearranged him in his arms. 

“We spotted land this morning.”

“Are we home?”

“No, we found an island. It’s not much but it’s land.” Owen stepped onto the solid beach and lowered Matthew to the ground against a tree. 

“Stay here, I’m going to help the others look for shelter and food.” Owen patted Matthew on his hollow chest. Matthew smirked and nodded. 

“Don’t worry, it’s not like I’m going anywhere.” Matthew laughed softly. 

“You still have your sense of humor, good.” Owen limped away with a small group of similarly starved men. Matthew could only imagine what he looked like. He raised his hands to feel his hair and then his face. He had a long beard and sun blisters buried deep in his face. His hands shook as he moved them to his lap.

His eyes rested on the shore where the bright blue water swept out upon the beach. He could feel himself whispering her name beneath his breath like a prayer. Had she protected them this entire time? Had she ensured that they would find land? 

Where was she now? Matthew closed his eyes and knew he’d be crying if wasn’t so dehydrated. 

“Water… I need water…” Matthew tried to call out. One of the sailors sprawled out on the sand, sat up and patted his pockets for a canteen.

“Here, sir.” The sailor offered Matthew his half-empty canteen and unscrewed the cap for him. Matthew took the bottle with shaking hands and raised the bottle to his lips. He took a few small sips and sighed. Even though he wanted to drink the whole bottle, he forced himself to return the container to the young man with blisters across his face. 

“Thank you,” Matthew nodded and leaned his bloody head back against the tree. “How long has it been since the Essex sank?”  

The young boy raised his head in surprise and furrowed his brow. 

“About two weeks, sir.” 

“Did… did a woman or… a siren find us before we got here?” Matthew struggled to ask. The boy darted his eyes away in discomfort before answering. 

“Um no, sir.” 

Matthew closed his eyes and sighed. He didn’t have the energy to explain to the boy what he meant. In his head he could see the girl again. Her beautiful green eyes glowed in the darkness of his mind and his hands could feel her soft body. 

“Y/N…” he whispered and fell asleep. 

…

“So you’re leaving?” Matthew clarified and Owen nodded. 

“A group of us are going to try to find the mainland.”

“I want to stay. I wouldn't make the trip and we both know that. The men who want to stay can stay with me.” Matthew looked up at the ceiling of the cave they had found away from the beach. They had been on the island for a week now and were running out of food. 

“I’ll tell the men. If we make it back to land… we’ll come back and get you. We’ll come back for you, understand?” 

Matthew nodded and gestured to the men chatting outside in the dark, a fire burning between them. Owen left the cave but his voice carried back to Matthew as he informed the men of their proposed plan. Questions arose from the sailors and Matthew tried to keep himself from sobbing as he accepted the truth:

The Siren had not been back. She had not come when he needed her and he realized then that she never would. She had warned him since the beginning not to trust her but he had. Tears slipped down his face and triggered a headache. His head was bandaged with clean make-shift bandages but the wound still hurt. He cradled his face in his hands and rested his palms against his legs. 

I hate you, Matthew thought. I loved you and you betrayed me. 

…

They left the following day and Matthew was left alone with four other men. They sat in the cave all together and withered away in silence. 

…

A few nights later, Matthew awoke with a start and gasped silently. It had been over a month since the Essex went down. The cave was dark and the sounds of the men sleeping surrounded him. He looked around as best as he could and whimpered softly into the darkness. 

Fear not this night, you will not go astray

Though shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Awaken from a quiet sleep

Hear the whispering of the wind

Awaken as silence grows 

In the solitude of the night

The song reached his ears from far beyond the mouth of the cave, stilling him. He stopped whimpering and fell quiet to hear the haunting music. The woman’s voice was alone, unaccompanied by other voices or music. She sounded like a child singing as she finished a chore. It was a pure and comforting sound that drew Matthew to his knees. He pulled himself up to his feet and grasped the moist walls as he stumbled out. 

The island air was warm and dry around him as his feet reached the sand. He could hear the waves crashing against the beach but the sounds of animals were abnormally absent. He walked further out into the dark, hugging his jacket around his dying body. 

Darkness spreads through all the land and your weary eyes open silently

Sunsets have forsaken all the most far off horizons

Fear not this night, you will not go astray. 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away. 

And there in the distance, the horizon was starting to lighten as the sun would rise in the following hours. In the meantime, the beach was still dark. Matthew felt his feet carry him to the shoreline where the sand pulled against his ankles. He looked out at the water and forgot why he was there at all. Was he dreaming?

Distant sounds of melodies calling through the night to your heart

He took a few more steps where the water reached his calves. Two hands reached out and touched his scarred face and he flinched away. The hands returned and held his hollow cheeks gently. 

“Matthew,” the voice whispered sweetly but he couldn’t see who was speaking. 

“Who are you?” Matthew whimpered and tried to pull away from the strange hands which were not his own. “Are you an angel of heaven?” 

“Has it really been that long that you’ve forgotten my touch?” 

“I’ve forgotten my own. Who are you?” He asked again, his eyebrows furrowed with suspicion. 

“It’s me, sailor. Your Siren.” Y/N rubbed her thumbs over Matthew’s bulging cheekbones, tears ran down his face without his knowledge. Matthew closed his eyes and shook his head weakly. 

“No, no. She left me weeks ago. I’m dying.” He took a step back but the current caught his heels. 

“Look at me, Matthew. It’s me. I’ve come to take you home.”

Matthew opened his eyes slowly and his lips fell apart. His eyes adjusted in the dark, finally revealing a woman’s familiar face framed in dark hair. She was naked so she appeared to be a star glowing in the dark. 

“It’s not possible. Why would you come back now?” Matthew whispered, his voice breaking. More tears filled his eyes and he tried to control the sobs that threatened him. 

“I never left you, Matthew, but I didn’t know what I could do. I can’t change fate.”

“So this was my fate?” Matthew laughed darkly. He reached out to pet her hair and sniffed. 

“Yes, I couldn’t intervene.”

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Matthew sobbed and curled her hair in his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry, Matthew…”

“But why are you here now?” Matthew trailed his fingers up and down her neck absentmindedly. 

“Like I said, I’ve come to take you home.”

“You were singing…” Matthew noted and stepped closer. The girl cupped his face again and looked up into his bloodshot eyes. 

“I’m singing for you, sailor.” 

She kissed his cheek and reached for his hands. Going slowly, she walked backwards into the sea, singing. Matthew followed her blindly, his mind captured by her ballad and the magical glow in her eyes. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to smile through her song. 

Though the shadows fall, still the stars find their way

Life your voice with the first light of dawn 

Dawn’s just a heartbeat away

Hope’s just a sunrise away

Matthew’s head dipped below the surface and the water consumed him. The song continued in his head as Y/N carried him to his death, ending his suffering and burying the dead.