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futurefamousdeadmusician · 3 months

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Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning.

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied,

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.”

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied,

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none.

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder,

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.”

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London.

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed.

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family.

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home.

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed,

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it.

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood.

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words.

“It my fucking brother!”

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness.

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway.

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath.

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett.

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so.

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm.

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand.

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away.

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend.

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her.

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street.

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke.

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister.

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun.

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said,

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking,

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply.

“I know.”

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group.

“She knows, brother.” They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him.

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout.

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home.

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traumadumpwriter · 2 months

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Heavy trigger warning for abuse, SA, assault, violence, self harm, mentions of r*pe

If you enjoy please don't forget to like, repost, comment. Give me feedback! | love to hear it!

I do update more frequently and there r already more chapters on my Wattpad @/slowlychanging!

Check out the other chapters by going to the Freedom tag on my page!

Freedom: A John Shelby Mini Fic

Chapter Nine: 4311 words

Hours passed until 'Go time' finally arrived and the adrenaline was just starting to kick in for Alice. She and Tommy were sat in silence as he drove her towards the agreed location - a seedy hotel just outside of town, ran by the Turks with a grand suite that Ergin often stayed in.

The window to his suite was visible from the street below; red velvet curtains pulled shut behind the thin glass panes. Alice was relieved that to see it was only on the second floor - knowing it to be her most likely route of escape incase things went wrong.

There were blinders surrounding the property, hidden in bushes and under cars, and the plan was clear in Alice's head. She could do this.

"We'll be an hour at most." Tommy spoke quietly, his eyes staring at a figure promptly coming towards the car.

After receiving strict instructions from him for the last hour, Alice found his voice to be extremely annoying and also looked to the figure, having nothing pleasant to say to Tommy.

A tanned man in a suit eventually came to the door on Alice's side, opening it with a smile and holding out his arm for her to take. She looked back at the Shelby one more time and he sent her a nod before sending her out into the cool night air, her hand placed gingerly on the arm of the small man.

Upon reaching the lobby, he stepped away from Alice with a polite nod and she suddenly found herself surrounded by an entourage of colourful characters; even the other women emitting an intimidating energy. They were all sat around a large table, decorated with intricate cloth, drinking from ornate glasses and laughing merrily. Alice looked around and tried to work out which one was Ergin, but had no luck - all of the men wearing similar, cream suits with no real distinction from each other.

A cough from the polite assistant quickly drew their eyes upwards and although they initially looked so unimpressed, the men's faces instantly softened upon seeing Alice - stood there like an innocent doe.

"The Shelby woman aye?" One of the men stood up with a grin and held out his hand for Alice to take, to which she quickly did. His accent was thick and he exuded suaveness. "Even more beautiful than I was told." He placed a kiss on her hand before pulling away and gesturing for her to follow him. "The boss's room is just up here, I show you."

"Thank you." She replied, being careful to smile and be polite but not too much - Tommy said it was important that she came across as unintelligent and innocent but still sexual and willing; a difficult mix to nail.

As she followed his path, she could feel all eyes on her; devouring the white, corseted dress and how it draped her frame perfectly. Polly had gotten her measurements and rushed into town to get it not long after the initial family gathering, worrying about Alice not looking the part. The older woman hated the plan and it had been even harder getting her approval than Tommy had originally anticipated, but she eventually caved in and agreed to help - citing the trickery and murder of Jones Buckley to be her main motivation. She owed it to Clara after all.

John on the other hand had disappeared from the house for hours, unable to handle the rage or betrayal his family had made him feel. Hidden, he watched Alice from a distance after she first tried on the dress; practicing her gun draw with Polly in the back street whilst the other Peaky boys rushed around preparing for potential bloodshed that night. The dress was absolutely beautiful on her and he struggled to watch, stepping away after a moment whilst painful thoughts started to ravage his brain again. There was no way he would ever forgive Tommy for asking this of her, and if she got truly hurt there was no way he'd ever forgive his family for allowing it.

Now he sat in tense silence, waiting for his signal to burst into the cellar and begin the raid, desperately praying that Alice would be okay.

Meanwhile, the woman was surprised by how pleasant the Turks had been to her, although she now suspected that things would change as the varnished door to the huge suite opened.

"Ah, Ms Buckley. You look incredible." Alice cringed at the name but nodded graciously to the man in front of her; his facial hair meticulously groomed and his suit black. "Do you mind if I call you that? Or are you a Shelby now?"

His tone was mocking and as Alice studied him, she realised he was one who'd been at the campsite that day - her face almost going red from anger and embarrassment.

"I'm my own woman now, you can just call me Alice." She answered with a sultry tone, eyeing his body in a way to suggest she didn't care if he eyed hers - even though she really just wanted to punch the man.

"And your name is?"

He chuckled slightly, staring her down as he closed the door behind her with a loud bang.

"My name is Maximus, Alice." He winked and patted her waist before leaning in to her ear. She expected an uncomfortable kiss to her neck, not the menacing tone that then quietly fell from his lips. "And I don't trust you one little bit.. I don't know how you escaped your husband, but I can have you sent back to him with the click my fingers, long before any of those Peaky brothers could find you. Don't forget that - whore." He almost spat that last word before suddenly standing straight again with a smile. "Now let's go see the boss, shall we?"

Alice didn't have time to even fully process his shocking words as another door was opened and they stepped deeper into the suite. She immediately spotted the red curtained window before she even looked at Ergin or his associate; both larger men, clad in expensive suits and golden jewellery. They had glasses of wine on the table in front of them, along with a pile of cards and an ashtray full of fat cigar butts. There was an empty chair opposite them and Maximus gestured for Alice to sit on it before leaving the room, leaving the three in silence for a moment.

Now she could ponder on the sinister man's words. She tried not to believe him, to keep her faith in the brothers, but a seed of doubt had now been planted and she was starting to accept that she would in fact have to sleep with these men if she wanted to stay alive - or atleast not get sent back to Jones. She'd rather die than have that happen.

Her panicked thoughts almost started to spiral until Ergin suddenly announced something to his friend in Turkish, instantly making her alert again. He cheered as he placed down a card - obviously winning whatever game they were playing - and then finally acknowledged the nervous woman in front of him.

"Sorry, I had to think about that move." He chuckled before meeting her eyes, his demeanour instantly softening. "Wow, look at this kadin, Aylin! Even more beautiful up close."

His friend, who Alice assumed to be named Aylin, laughed and nodded as he too studied the woman - staring as if she were an object and not a person.

"What you doing with a dog like John Shelby huh? You really just a whore like his brother says? I don't believe it." Ergin scoffed, once again sparking an anxious flame in Alice's belly that she had to quickly stamp out. "And what is this Maximus says about you being some kind of gypsy whore also? You are far too beautiful. I don't believe."

Alice was shocked by the seeming interest that Ergin had in her, taking a moment to collect herself before cooly replying "I thought I was here to dance with you, not be interrogated."

That seemed to surprise the men as they laughed again and exchanged few words in Turkish before Ergin leant forward and locked eyes with Alice again.

"I think you are an interesting woman.. The scars are something I like." Alice immediately went to pull down her sleeves as she realised they'd ridden up but he stopped her, his big hands enveloping hers with ease. "No no, don't cover, I said I like."

She didn't know how to respond to that. No one had ever liked her scars. A discussion about them wasn't what she had mentally prepared herself for. Instead, she was now thinking about how she would open the red curtain to send the signal without it seeming suspicious.

"It shows-" Ergin lit a cigar and placed it to his lips, drawing her attention again "-that you are not scared of pain. At least not pain inflicted by yourself. Am I right in this?"

Alice nodded slowly, unsure of where things could go from here. Her heart was racing and her handbag felt like a tonne weight placed gently on her thigh as she thought about the gun hidden inside.

"I want you to take off the dress and cut yourself right now then." His voice had a sudden firmness to it that paralleled to the friendly tone he'd shown a second prior.

With the four eager eyes on her, Alice knew she had no choice but to undress and started to slowly pull down her dress - the undergarments also being purchased in town by Polly that day. It was all white, a corset and frilly bra with matching garters and panties. Alice felt exposed but less exposed than she should've - so used to this objectifying treatment that it almost felt normal.

She took the small knife from Ergin's large, leathery hand and moved it to her thigh, taking a deep breath before making a quick red line. Even in such forced circumstances the pain felt a relief to her, visibly so as the two men let out another laugh and Ergin quickly snatched the knife back from her.

"Wow. You really like that huh? I didn't actually expect you to do it. Maybe you are a whore. Or maybe you are just crazy." He chuckled, earning an awkward forced chuckle back from Alice before his tone went serious again and he stood up. "Now dance with the knife. I want you to cut yourself with it as you dance. I expect all clothes to be gone by time the song is finished."

Alice's stomach dropped once she heard the record playing and felt the knife being placed in her hand again. Ergin was stood against the wall next to the phonograph - right by the window - whilst his friend remained leant into his cushioned seat, taking casual sips from his wine. Her eyes scanned the room desperately, looking for some kind of help, until she saw the mini bar in the corner.

"Do you not want me to make you a drink first? I thought I was meant to do that. I'm a barmaid you know." She fluttered her eyelashes and giggled, trying to act as if she was perfectly comfortable - a real whore like Tommy had obviously tried to sell her as.

"You can make any drink you want but know that you'll be testing it before either of us drink it. We're not stupid, Alice. Know this before you try anything told to you by Thomas Shelby."

"Fuck!" She started to mentally scream at herself as she realised nothing would go as smoothly as she'd hoped. She looked at the clock on the wall and saw it had only been seven minutes, she would have to think of a plan, fast.

As she sauntered over to the corner, Ergin called for Maximus to enter the room and she knew she'd have to pour the powder into the cups before the vulture like man was watching over her shoulder. So quickly, she pulled the vial from her bra and poured the white substance into each of the three glasses before covering it with whiskey - just as his thin frame reached her side.

She played it cool, pouring mixer into each of the drinks and stirring it with an ornate, metal spoon before she felt a hand gripping her thigh, instantly making her stop.

"You see? She is not a whore. Even one touch and she freezes up." Maximus scoffed. "I bet these drinks are poison too, go on, try one little lamb. Let's see."

Luckily, the drinks weren't too poison, just a tranquilliser, and Alice knew that if she just drank considerably less than them she would stand a better chance at staying awake than the men did. At least the older ones. They already seemed pretty drunk, after all.

"Fine, I'll show you. Maximus." She hissed his name and took a quick gulp from one of the glasses, earning an amused holler from the other two men.

"And the other one too-"

"Ah that is quite enough, my boy. A frightened whore does not perform as well as a comfortable whore. You will see this in a moment." Ergin cut him off with obvious authority, although there was enough care in his tone to imply a close bond between the two - perhaps uncle and nephew or father and son.

Either way, the younger man shut up immediately and stepped back, watching intently as Alice handed the drinks to the men. She now knew it was time to perform and stepped over to the phonograph before Ergin would stand up again to do so, earning a thankful laugh from his fat face as he and his friend lazily gawked at her.

As she gently placed the needle onto the record, she was careful to lean against the window and shift the curtain open - even it was only slightly - knowing that would be enough to let the boys below know the bosses were distracted.

That short feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the anxiety she'd been pushing down as the music started to play and she knew she couldn't postpone the dance any longer. Almost all forms of self harm had always been extremely appealing to Alice until this moment, awkwardly trying to cut her skin whilst remaining sexy and moving on beat. The men didn't care though, excited as she cut off her garters, corset and bra leaving only panties by time the song finished. Her mind had been miles away, not really seeing anything in the room as she danced, so when the trance ended with the music, she was relieved to notice their two cups empty although Maximus' remained full.

"Very nice, but remember what I said? All clothes off-" just as Ergin's instruction struck another deep pang of fear into Alice's chest, a loud bang followed by some shouts came from downstairs and all attention was averted.

"What the fuck was that? Max you go look!" Ergin demanded and the younger man immediately complied, shooting Alice a sharp glare before racing out of the room. From that point on everything moved fast. Too fast for her to properly comprehend.

All of a sudden, Alice felt a heavy force against her face and went flying to the floor, taking a second to realise that Ergin had hit her and was now bent down beside her. The woman could already feel the small amount of tranquilliser making her drowsy and so she knew that he would pass out any minute now - he had to - she just had to hold him off until one of the blinders arrived.

"What have you done, whore? What did you put in Aylin's drink? And what was that bang? You and the blinders have come up with some plan! What is it?" He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her face so that it was inches from his. Out the corner of her eye she could see that his friend had passed out so she just prayed that he would too - but he didn't.

"I said what have you done?" He repeated himself louder, spit flying from his mouth onto her face before he struck her again, once again sending her body to the floor.

She groaned in pain this time and struggled to move away as Ergin towered over her. There was blood all over her body already from the cuts she'd made, now some leaked from her mouth as her lip started to swell and she knew her face would be bruised the next day.

"You really think I drink a drink made by a Shelby whore?" He scoffed before kicking her hard in the ribs, earning another painful groan. "I may be fat and old. But I am not stupid."

From her position on the floor, Alice tried to take the knife off the table but Ergin quickly grabbed her hair again and dragged her around the room, to the chair she'd originally sat on. Memories of Jones flashed agonisingly through her brain every millisecond and she started to really hate Tommy for putting her up to this - yet hate herself more for agreeing to do it. John was right; she did love putting herself in danger. That was until the consequences of the danger hit her like they were right now.

"If he dies, I promise you will regret it very much." As Ergin spoke he placed bullets into a silver pistol, shaking and dropping some as he did.

Although his thick accent was still intimidating and booming, Alice realised he wasn't as powerful as he seemed and was in fact scared or at least nervous.

She looked around desperately for something to defend herself with, slowly regaining her hope; until she saw her handbag and felt a powerful surge of adrenaline. Just as he finished loading the weapon, Alice reached for the bag and pulled it to the ground with her, bloody hands desperately fumbling for the gun inside as she heard the violence downstairs.

"Hopefully that's the Blinders I can hear and not the Turks." Her thought was cut off by Ergin grabbing her again, this time by her neck, and pinning her against a wall. He squeezed tight and stared into her eyes as he did, watching the hope drain from them as the air did from her lungs.

She was almost convinced that these would be her final moments, staring into an ugly face - just as she had been with Jones so many times. Gradually, her body was going limp in his hand, her limbs feeling heavy as she thrashed against him, scratching and spitting like a wild animal.

"You planned ahead for this huh! What is the antidote for this poison? Tell me now!" He shouted, loosening his grip with wide eyes and letting her catch her breath for a second.

Her head was pounding and dizzy but it still worked fast.

"It's, it's in my dress. Sewn in. A small vile." She choked out, the noises downstairs getting louder and her body getting heavier.

As soon as the words left her mouth he dropped her and rushed to the crumpled white velvet by the phonograph, looking worriedly to Aylin before starting to desperately rip at the material.

"You stay there whore or I will kill every single member of the Shelby family, you understand?" He barked with his back facing her, but soon froze as he heard a gun cock and felt the metal pressed to the back of his head.

In that half minute, Alice had managed to get herself up, grab her gun and quietly slink over, leaving a trail of blood behind her on the already red carpet. There were few thoughts as she placed the gun to his head, only one real loud one that screamed "Fuck you!" He didn't deserve a chance to explain himself, he was a pig and now he was going to die.

"There's no antidote. It's not poison, it's a tranquilliser. Your friend would've been fine, you stupid fucking-"

"Please!" He cut her off with a loud beg but before he could let out another word she pulled the trigger - a loud bang echoing through the room.

It didn't move in slow motion like Alice thought it would, instead it was quick and sudden; skull fragments flying and a heavy thud. She'd never taken a life before and it was easier than expected.

Meanwhile downstairs, John heard the gunshot and even amongst the fighting in the lobby, he knew that it came from the suite. His blood immediately ran cold. The Blinders were winning and the Turks were massively outnumbered, but he felt no sense of victory until he knew it was Alice who fired that shot. He looked around the reception desperately, bloodshed all around him, until he spotted a waiter cowering in the corner - obviously not paid enough to be dealing with this.

Eyes wide, he grabbed the man's collar and shouted "Ergin's suite! Now!" to which the man immediately complied, taking him to the hidden staircase that lead directly to the exclusive room.

However, John hadn't been the only one to hear the gunshot. Maximus was already halfway up those stairs when he heard it, running as he reloaded his own weapon and prayed to God that his uncle was alive.

Upon opening the door, he was enraged to see Ergin dead and Alice stood with her gun to Aylin's head, about to shoot the passed out man until he suddenly tackled her, throwing her to the ground and pinning her down with bared teeth - foaming like a rabid dog.

"You fucking bitch!" He shouted, a guttural, grief filled scream as he started to violently shake her shoulders, banging her head against the floor. She was struggling to stay awake at this point and could feel herself slipping into darkness between each painful bump to the head. Still, she tried to fight back against him, punching, screaming and spitting. It was no use though.

He was in a trance like state, mad with grief, rage and shock, turning him into a complete animal with enough strength to break the girl's neck if he wanted despite his skinny frame.

"You evil fucking slut." He hissed, holding both her hands above her head with just one of his whilst the other groped her chest with such force that she screamed in pain. "You think you had it bad with the gypsy scum? Just you wait little girl." He dug in his nails so hard it drew blood, running them down her chest and digging into the fresh cuts made during her dance. There was definitely at least one broken rib he pressed into too, the pain becoming so intense that Alice could barely breathe as she cried out for help.

His hand finally reached her underwear, ripping them off in one swift motion despite her attempts at kicking him away. The feeling of his sharp nails drawing so close to her privates filled Alice with pure terror. A horrific scream left her lungs, followed by a loud sob.

But then suddenly he withdrew and his body was no longer on top of hers - giving her an immense sense of relief. That was until she heard John's voice calling her name and realised the psycho was going after him now.

"He's got a gun, John!" She desperately cried from the floor, her vision fading and not even certain her voice was loud enough for him to hear. She couldn't lift her head or keep her eyes open anymore, all she could do was listen as bullets started flying, empty shells flicking onto her naked body but from who she couldn't tell.

The room fell silent and there was a thud, sounding similar to the one Ergen made when he'd dropped dead earlier - instantly putting Alice's heart in her throat as she prayed it wasn't John's body she heard.

Apart from her own breathing and her heart thudding, she could hear nothing.

"Alice?" His thick Birmingham accent broke the silence and the woman instantly let out a relieved sob, alerting him to her position in the room and he immediately bolted over.

"Fuck." He muttered upon seeing her, more blood than skin visible, and quickly bent down to her side, ripping off his jacket to wrap around her. "Where'd they get you?"

His hands desperately searched her body for a bullet wound, shaking as he struggled to distinguish each injury from the next.

"Alice, where'd they get you?" He repeated, his voice cracking as his worst worries had seemingly come true.

"I-I'm not shot, John." She spluttered, almost laughing with relief. "They made me try the drink. I'll be fine."

Those were the final words she had the strength to say before passing out, much to John's incredible panic as he tried to shake her awake. It was after a few seconds of panic that he decided to believe those words - or at least try to - and he grabbed a blanket to wrap the woman in before rushing down the stairs with her in his arms, holding her tightly against his chest.

It only took a minute for him to get outside and into the closest getaway car, throwing himself into the passenger seat and shouting "Fucking drive!" to Isaiah.

"But Tommy told me to-"

John swiftly pressed his gun to the younger man's head, his pupils maniacally thin and sweat dropping profusely from his forehead.

"I don't give a fucking shit about Tommy! Fucking drive!"

This time the boy immediately complied, stepping on the gas and speeding away as the remaining blinders started the fire that would eventually burn the entire Turkish hotel to the ground - only leaving ashes behind.

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Snitch

Summary: You’ve accidentally snitched on your brothers and now that Polly is furious, you have to deal with the consequences

(gif by @mistress-gif)

A/N: For my 4k celebration I finally got round to this request. My previous fic Family Secrets was such fun to write, all fluff, and now a sweet anon requested: Hi, if I could request a fic, could you do one similar tickle Shelby sister one like family secrets? Maybe the sister could snitch or do something to John/Tommy and she gets tickled? If not it’s fine xx I could never turn down something this wholesome and I hope you like it!! This is nothing but fluff and childish brothers, entirely based on my own annoying siblings Words: 4301

*****

On one bright sunny morning down in Small Heath, you were watching your brothers work in the betting shop. Being their sister of sixteen now, you were no longer the family baby, though they often still treated you this way. So many times you’d longed to grow up quicker, just so they would allow you a bit more freedom, but now you often missed those old days. The days of sleeping outside together or piled together on a narrowboat. You often dreamed of how the boys were before the war, back when they still played and laughed. But those days were long gone now.

Tommy beckoned you over and handed you some papers to look over. He asked, “Have you heard of this one?”

“The foal?” It wasn’t unusual for him to ask your advice on horses. You spend more time over at Charlie’s yard than any of the siblings and you’d grown up riding. So, you frowned and asked, “What do we need a foal for?” “I want to train her,” Tommy said pensively, “But I need to know if you know the stallion?” “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of him. Fucking hell, Tommy, what does this foal cost?” He pointed at a figure on the paper. “Fuck,” you breathed, and then, “Did you discuss this with Aunt Polly, because she’ll never let you spend this much money on the mere possibility of a racing horse.” “I’m not telling Polly just yet.” You eyed him but decided to move on, “Wait a second, isn’t this the horse that made all the headlines? This heiress of some kind who was left the stallion in some will, but it was attested or something?” “Yes.” You fixed him with a gaze once again, waiting for him to explain. “I know the heiress,” he finally said, with a wave of his hand. “You know the heiress…” “I know the heiress, yes.” “Oh,” and you rolled your eyes, “So, she’s selling you the horse.” “Not quite, I’ll need to steal it first.” “What, the horse or the woman?” you joked, but he didn’t seem to share in the fun. So, you said, “Fine, but this is bound to end in tears.” “Just let me do the thinking, eh Y/N? Me and John have got it all worked out.” You sighed again, “Whatever happened to family meetings, Thomas?” He shrugged and gathered up the papers, “You sound just like your aunt.” “Thank you. I’ll tell her.” “Wait,” Tommy stopped you as you turned to leave, “Don’t tell her about this. Not yet.” “Fine,” you sulked, already bored with this day.

*** Polly Gray’s voice boomed through the house the very next day. You’d been asleep, but you sat bolt-right up in bed at the sound. Only then you realised she wasn’t calling for you; she was calling for your brothers.

You listened intently as they dragged their feet towards the kitchen. The truth was, you always enjoyed it when they got scolded, it was a sibling thing, so you silently crept down the stairs and watched through the banister. “What the hell is this I’ve heard?” your aunt sounded incredibly angry, “Why the fuck did the two of you think you could pull a stunt like this without informing me!” John whimpered and becameshorter on the spot, but protested with, “It’s not like we took the foal yet. We’ve only just made contact.” This earned him a smack around the head and Aunt Polly bit, “No, you only let your brother fuck for the cause.” “Well, he’s good at that…” John whispered, rubbing his sore head. “Polly,” Tommy held up a hand in an attempt to soothe things, “It’s a good plan. We just need you to agree to…” Tommy was on the receiving end of the next slap, and you smirked in the dark. “There’s no point in me agreeing now, is there!” she snapped, “It’s done. If we back out now, we’ll have half of the lords and ladies of fucking England on our backs! And unless you plan to fuck them all, Thomas, we’ve no choice.” And out of pure irritation, she smacked him again. You, meanwhile, held a hand to your mouth to stop the giggles from pouring out. It really was good fun to be just the spectator for once. “Pol, we didn’t plan on hiding it from you…” “No?” she had her hands on her hips now, which was never a good sign. Polly was like a mother to you: she’d raised you, praised you and scolded you all your life. And if you weren’t at least a little afraid of her when she was angry, you had no sense at all. She continued, “So why did I have to hear about the foal from Y/N?” You froze. And then you realised, you’d completely forgotten. Memories flooded back from breakfast when you sat at the table, chatting away with Ada about the races, and you may indeed have mentioned this foal in passing. You suddenly remembered Ada asking about the heiress and you calling Tommy a ‘man-whore’. Apparently, Polly had listened in, but not only that, she’d added two and two together.

As the scolding went on and a few more smacks were administered, you slowly made your way up the stairs again, deciding that would be in your best interest. You were almost at the top, when you heard Aunt Polly stomp away. For a few moments, you only listened. “How did she know?” you heard John ask. “I told fucking Y/N,” Tommy replied, darkly. You’d meant to sprint the last few steps back up to your room, but unfortunately, you tripped and slammed down into the stairs. Within seconds, your brothers were at the bottom of the stairs, looking menacingly up at you. “Hello,” you said, praying for some manner of escape. Much to your good fortune, Polly crashed back into the kitchen, glaring daggers at the boys as she walked on by. In those short moments, you fled, but behind you, Tommy called out, “Oh, you better run, Y/N!” *** The next few days, you tried your best not to be alone with either John or Tommy. Not quite sure just how mad they really were, you decided not to risk it. Still, you couldn’t help but think back to the both of them at the bottom of the stairs, where you’d been certain you’d seen a smile playing about Tommy’s lips. John was a lot easier in that sense; his mischievous nature was never far behind, but if Tommy really was angry, there’d be no chance. Either way, better not to be at their mercy. One afternoon, you were sitting in the front room with your Aunt Polly. When John and Tommy entered, you quickly looked away. Polly noticed at once however and immediately asked, “What’s going on?” “Nothing,” Tommy put on his best angelic face “Just need to have a word with Y/N, that’s all.” Aunt Polly got up to leave, but you tried to run after her, calling out, “No! I’ll come with you, Aunt Pol!” Again, she eyes the room suspiciously, “If there’s anything going on behind my back again, I’ll have all three of you. Don’t think just because you’re grown now, I won’t.” None of you even dared to think so, so all three Shelby siblings nodded obediently. And before there was anything you could do, you were left alone with John and Tommy in the front room.

Frantically, you let your eyes flit back and forth between both brothers. This was not a good situation to be in.

“I think we should punish the snitch,” Tommy growled, unusually playful. For a moment, you felt relief wash over you, recognizing the old Tommy again, but then you weren’t so sure if this really was in your favour.

“What?’ you asked, with big eyes, “Why?” “You told Aunt Polly about the horse, didn’t you,” John continued, “You got us in trouble.” “What are you?” you joked, “Five?”

John stood leaning against the door, making sure you had nowhere to go if you planned on escaping, “Remember when we were kids,” he mused, “When she used to hide our caps and we used to chase her around the camp?” “Oh, I remember, she used to be a little devil.” “Yeah, but that was before,” you tried, “before you all got caught up in business and became boring.” “Boring, eh?” Tommy said sarcastically, “We became fucking boring, do you hear that, John? We became boring. Well, I’m guessing that’s the worst charge, eh?” “It is,” you said, decidedly. “Remember when we caught her and threw her into the canal, Tommy?” John grinned, “Polly beat us both.” “Yeah, but she always tried to run off,” he took one menacing step towards you, “Just like now,” because Tommy had most certainly noticed you eyeing all the exits. “If this is about the horse…” you started, but you didn’t get to finish your sentence.

You fell to the ground as John launched himself at you. Luckily, the rug provided for a soft drop. But the air was knocked from your lungs, having John and his full weight on top of you. As you clawed at your brother to no avail, John was giggling like a small child and you threw your head back in defeat, catching a glimpse of Tommy who had apparently decided not to do a thing about the situation. “Now what?” you asked him, as you fell still, because quite obviously, resistance was futile.

Tommy lifted one eyebrow and said, “Well, you’re the clever one, aren’t you? Little miss know-it-all? Get yourself out of this one.” Straining every muscle you had in you, you managed to wiggle your legs out from under John’s torso and tried to buck him off. For a second, your brother was lifted up into the air, but he was too heavy and immediately dropped back down again, managing to make you wheeze for a second time. So, you tried to pinch John, hard, and that worked. He called out and tried to move away, which gave you the opportunity to extract your arms and grab a chair. Using the chair, you then tried to pull yourself out from under him. Tommy, however, calmly picked up the chair and moved it out of the way. So, you stuck out your tongue at him and ground out, “Spoil sport.” “Am I?” he nodded, “Oh right, I’m the boring one.” “You could,” you groaned under the weight of one very childish brother, “you know, help?” “Help? Alright, I’ll help.” For a moment you saw the flicker of mischief in his eyes and then he jumped on top of you as well. You shouted out theatrically at the weight of a second, “Get ooooooooff!” “You said we were boring.” “You’re not boring, you’re behaving like fucking children!” you scolded. Full of satisfaction, John said from somewhere in the pile, “So maybe it’s you, Y/N, who’s the boring one? You’ve forgotten how we used to do this all the time.” You hadn’t forgotten. And you certainly hadn’t forgotten what would follow next, which made it all the more frustrating you couldn’t move an inch. “John, are you ready?” Tommy informed casually. “Ready!” “Nooooooo,” you protested in advance. John shouted out another battle cry by way of an answer. Seconds later, they both started tickling you and you actually screeched. It felt like a hundred hands were attacking you, instead of only four, and this indeed brought back all kinds of memories. You’d forgotten just how annoying they could be when they were in a playful mood, and on the one hand you enjoyed this immensely, on the other hand you regretted this immensely.

“Still think we’re boring, eh?” But you couldn’t answer, only giggle like an absolute maniac. At some point, you were quite sure you wouldn’t survive. John’s face was close to yours and a massive grin was plastered all over his face. He demanded, “Apologize for getting us in trouble!” Now that really took you back to all of you as kids. It had happened so many times that one, or all, of you had done something they weren’t allowed to do and, as good siblings do, tried to drag down the others with them. This would always have consequences, however. But there was no way you were apologizing. It was a matter of honour now. You managed to pull out a hand from the pile and grabbed the first tuft of hair you could find. The groaning that followed told you, you’d gotten hold of Tommy’s rogue locks. “Get her fucking hand, John,” he ordered his little brother, and at once John started tickling you more under your arms. You dissolved into another pit of laughter. The squirming pile of siblings managed to knock over quite a bit of furniture in the front room, but no one seemed to care. Suddenly, all three of you froze, when you heard Polly call out from the kitchen, “John!” John’s head shot up like a deer in headlights and he looked at Tommy, legs sticking up into the air, for advice.

Tommy called back, “John’s busy, Pol!” But his aunt wasn’t done yet, “Have you seen Y/N?” she called out. This time John replied, “She went out, Aunt Polly!” None of you dared to move and looked at each other one by one. Like a live painting, limbs all over the place, you’d been frozen in time and waited for what your aunt would do next. Then you heard footsteps and she was evidently approaching the front room. Tommy hissed at John, “Why the fuck did you tell her Y/N was out?” You all now knew you were going to have to explain this to an already aggravated matriarch. Unless, “Quick, hide her!” came John’s solution. Before you knew what was happening, two brothers lifted you up and stuffed you into the fancy cabinet against the wall. Sitting there, with the expensive plates and cutlery all around you, you watched through a crack as Aunt Polly marched into the room. John had quickly grabbed a book, holding it upside down, but pretended earnestly to read it. Tommy leaned up against the mantlepiece, smoking solemnly. The only thing that gave him away was a slight dishevelled look and bits of hair sticking in every direction imaginable. Tasting the atmosphere, she demanded, “What in the hell is going on here?” Tommy lifted one eyebrow and shrugged, “Working, Pol.” She didn’t believe him for a second, that much was obvious, and she looked around the room where none of the furniture was in their proper place anymore. Finally, she said, “Well, if you do see Y/N, tell her to come to me.” “Why?” John asked, always the one to ask question. “Because I told you so.”

After Aunt Polly had left again, Tommy told the cabinet, “You’re in trouble too now, Y/N.” “Why?” you sounded a little muffled coming from inside. You’d recognized her tone as well and it was quite clear you were in for a scolding, but you had honestly no idea what you’d done to deserve it this time. It had been so much more fun watching your brothers being on the receiving end of her temper. But that was concern for later, because judging by the silence on the other side of the door, your brothers weren’t done with you either. “Can’t stay in there forever,” Tommy commented dryly.

Can’t I? You thought about it for a second and looked around for some food in there, but there was nothing to be found. John seemed to sense your thoughts, “Ada’s eaten everything in there, Y/N, nothing but rats for you.” “Great, rats on both sides of the door,” you snapped. You surmised you had no other option but to run. So, you crouched down in the dark, suddenly slammed the door op and bolted. You managed to slip through John’s hands and sprinted towards the kitchen, hoping to God Polly wouldn’t be in there. Tommy called out behind you, “Go left, John-boy!” and you understood at once they planned to cut you off from both sides. There was only one thing left to do really, which was to gain the upper hand somehow. You scanned the kitchen for a weapon of some kind. There wasn’t much to work with, but you did find the infamous wooden spoon. Throwing it at Tommy, who dodged it calmly, you were now once again without any protection. For you second attempt, you held up an egg as a warning. “Put the egg down,” your brother held up a hand, “I’m warning you, Y/N, do not throw the fucking egg.” John didn’t even try to be scary anymore, he had too much fun playing, but he did say, “Polly will actually kill you if you throw the egg, you know that, right?” And then he made another dive at you, which made you throw the egg, which then hit him perfectly on the forehead. With a shout of glee, you tried to make another run for it. While John was wiping the egg of his face, Tommy was quicker this time and he grabbed you around your waist and threw you over his shoulder. The younger brother then proceeded pummelling you with all the eggs that were left. You tried to wiggle your way off the older brother’s shoulder, made a grab for some flower and covered Tommy with it. He spluttered a little, but his grip remained firm. The kitchen was in an absolute state within seconds.

Somehow, you’d worked yourself up and were now sort of balancing up top of Tommy. Then you caught a glimpse of his face, covered in flower, but you noticed the sheer joy that you saw in his eyes. And you stopped, and felt a warm sensation inside you hadn’t felt in years: happiness. This was it, you thought, we can still be like we were before the war. It’s rare and it’ll only last a few moments, but those amazing precious moments could still exist. Maybe they did too, but you had needed this so much the last couple of years. John interrupted your happy thoughts when he tried to lift you off of Tommy’s shoulder, but somehow underestimated how easy that would be, so the both of you landed on top of the kitchen table. It broke. Tommy sighed, “Polly’s not going to be happy when she hears you broke her table, Y/N.” “Oh, you wouldn’t dare,” you breathed, “there’s no way she’d believe it was just me, by the way, why would I break an actual table?” “Why should we?” you brother returned the question, “You’re the only child around here.”

“If you tell Polly I broke the table, I’ll tell John.” “Tell me what?” John’s head shot up, as he kicked away some pieces of wood from what was once your kitchen table. “Remember that wagon that burned down at the Lee camp?” you asked, sweetly. Tommy glared daggers at you, but John said, “Yeah, me and Arthur got the blame.” “Tommy burned it down,” and you quickly added, “And don’t think Polly’s forgotten about that either!” John turned to Tommy, “That was you? I thought it was bloody Arthur.” “Because I told her it was bloody Arthur,” Tommy replied. Then he turned to you, pointing finger and all, “Now, quite obviously you haven’t learned your lesson yet about being a snitch. Whatever happened to family loyalties, eh?” You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just loyal to Arthur.” Tommy Shelby, man feared by all, tried his most intimidating look on you. When it didn’t seem to do much, he called out, “Right! Into the canal, it is. John, take her legs.” You screamed again as you were being hoisted up into the air, though it was practically drowned out by John’s laughter. Chaos ensued once again and, in the end, Tommy had one of your legs, while John sort of carried your torso about. Your free leg you pulled back and you kicked Tommy hard in the chest. At once, he flew back and landed right on his arse. Both you and John burst out laughing. “Tommy, we’re never getting her to the canal like this,” your brother commented, while wiping the tears from his eyes. Tommy got up and he looked genuinely angry now. Any other person would be shitting themselves out of fear for what he might do. Any other person would start praying out loud. Any other person would quickly apologize and try to make a run for it. You were not any other person, you were his little sister, so you just continued laughing at him. It really was a funny sight, to see Tommy so dishevelled, but still trying to salvage some of his dignity. Within seconds, he was on top of you. He sat on your waist and took both of your hands in his, so much quicker than you had expected, and placing you in a hold you had no chance to get out of. You’d forgotten he could do that. Wide eyes, he ground out, “Respect, little sister. You need to learn some fucking respect.” “I’m sorry,” you said, cocky now, “Respect for what exactly? The brother covered in egg or the brother covered in flower?” Tommy sighed deeply, took both of your hands in one of his much bigger hands and dug his free hand into your stomach. For the second time, you were quickly screaming with laughter. He lowered down his face and whispered, “Apologize.” “For what?” you managed to get out in between giggles, “For being the only Shelby with a brain?” This didn’t help you much, as it only seemed to spur Tommy on. He started scribbling all over your ribs and soon, you weren’t able to say anything anymore, sassy or not. Then he paused for a second, mirth still visible in his eyes, and asked, “Want to try this again?” You sighed, exhausted already, and said, “I am sorry… I am sorry that you both are absolutely terrified of Aunt PolLY AND HER NOOOO!” He continued and left you with very little air. “John,” Tommy was now grinning broadly, “Take her arms,” and Tommy shot his evil fingers under your arms, which made your laughter go almost silent and you kicked your legs about, but to no avail. Tommy’s teeth blinked as he laughed with you, “Oh, little sister, you think you can be cocky with us, eh? With fucking us?”

Finally, feeling slightly desperate by your own ticklishness, you gave in, “Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!!” But still, they wouldn’t let you go. He demanded, “Sorry for what?” “I’m sorry I told Aunt Polly about the horse,” you panted, “I didn’t mean to but it sort of slipped out? Either way, I’m sorry.” “And,” Tommy cracked his fingers as if to say: I can do this all day. You believed him too. You rolled your eyes, “I’m sorry I kicked you and made you fall on your arse. And I’m sorry I laughed at you because you looked hilarious, while falling on your arse. My bad.” “Still think I’m boring?” John asked, which made you wonder if you’d genuinely offended him by saying that. “No,” you spat, “but I do think you’re a mad bastard.” “I can live with that.” “What about me, eh?” the other one asked, still straddling your waist. John had let go of your arms and you smiled up at Tommy, deciding to be completely honest, “Nah, but I wish you could be like this more often.” “Maybe I should be,” he thought out loud. When you saw his deep thoughts were taking him back to whatever dark place he inhabited now, you decided you didn’t quite want this lightness to disappear yet. So, you started poking Tommy’s ribs, which was never a good idea, especially in the position you were in. Tommy flinched and even squirmed a little, trying to protect himself from your hands, which gave you the chance to crawl out from under him. “Don’t fucking tickle me,” he huffed, “Tickle John!” For the second umpteenth time that day, the kitchen had turned into a battlefield of wrestling and tickling siblings. From a distance, it looked far too rough and like you were really hurting each other, but that was just the Shelby way. This was all just good fun, or so you thought. Polly watched the three of you and smiled, because to her, a Shelby, this was nothing but pure Shelby sibling love. After a while, she decided to put a stop to it, by banging a pot down onto the stove. The effect was immediate, as all three siblings practically jumped up to salute. For a moment, Polly just glared darkly at all three of you, as you bowed their heads in shame. Then she said, calmly but sternly, “You have two hours and then I want this entire kitchen spotless. And that includes a new table. I want you in clean clothes and faces scrubbed before dinner and I don’t want to find a single speck of flower on anything. Do you hear me?” “Yes, Aunt Polly,” you mumbled, trying desperately not to make eyes-contact with your brothers for fear of bursting out in laughter. “I’ll keep this to myself, if you can swear you’ll get it done,” she emphasized and waited for all three of you to agree.

When she walked away, head held high and sure of her parental duties well done, she heard the fight continuing. But she smiled and decided not to hear. Let them have their fun, she thought, let them have their fun while they still can. *** Masterlist

1K notes · View notes

hb-writes · 2 years

Text

Easier to Bear

Summary: 1916 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. It was an accident, Clara and Finn didn't mean to knock over Aunt Polly's picture. They didn't mean to shatter the picture frame on the hardwood, but accidents happen. And they happen at inopportune times. Left to sort her feelings on her own, Clara decides she's disappointed her aunt too much and it's almost too much for the little girl to bear.

Characters: Finn Shelby, Polly Gray, Clara Shelby, mentions of the other Shelby brothers, mentions of Michael and Anna.

Content Warning: General Angst, Guilt, Grief/Loss, Child Welfare System Trauma, Lack of proofreading.

Request (by anon): A18 polly with Clara and Finn? Maybe they knock something over when playing before the war and Clara gets upset by it x

Here’s the AO3 link if you prefer to read over there.

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Angst Celebration Masterlist

Please take a moment to tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Clara stopped the pursuit of her brother, pausing on the cushion of the settee she wasn’t meant to be standing on in the first place. The throw pillow in her hand fell heavily to her side though she’d been poised to whop Finn’s head with it just a short moment before.

It would have been a good bit of revenge since Finn had just finished doing the same to her, but Clara stopped herself before she could accomplish the task. Suddenly, the wrongness of the whole thing settled within her, a wave of fear and guilt rushing through her. A wave of admonishment ran through her too though she didn’t direct her blame at the brother who started it. She directed it only on herself because despite only being a child, Clara Shelby had always had the sense after doing something wrong that she should have known better. She should have done better, done as expected.

Finn’s attack hadn’t set the pictures on the side table to a precarious wobble. No, that had been entirely Clara’s doing, her chosen weapon hitting the lot of them as she climbed over the arm of the chair and grabbed hold of Finn’s ankle, sending him face-first into the cushions they’d been told over and over again were meant for sitting in—not climbing over and jumping on.

And even if it had been Finn who started it…if the situation was different…if it was Finn’s hand that inspired ruin and destruction in the front parlor rather than Clara’s, that sort of behavior would have been expected from him in a way it wasn’t from his twin sister. It wasn’t any matter of the twins being treated differently in the wake of misbehavior as it was Clara picking up on some sort of nuance people always assume kids don’t pick up on.

Clara was so often praised for being good and clever and sweet, and there was some part of her terrified of what would happen if she were to turn out something else. They already had Finn to be silly and loud and rough. And Clara was meant to be a help to Aunt Polly, especially with the boys gone.

Clara watched the frames fall from the ledge. She caught just a short glimpse of them mid-air before a few of the framed portraits shattered against the hardwood, the sound of it making Finn freeze and fall silent, his head turning back towards Clara though he’d been giggling wildly and keen to get away from her.

Clara still had ahold of her brother’s ankle. Rather than letting him go, Clara gripped Finn’s ankle tighter still, her little knuckles growing white as silence blanketed the room, suspending them all there, prolonging the moment’s temporary serenity, and safety. The twins waited to see if the whole thing would simply pass, becoming the sort of memory they’d laugh about one day, or more likely, forget entirely. They waited to learn if they would get through the moment unscathed, their misbehavior hidden away before they were ever found out.

It was Clara’s fault, but it was both of them who would be paying for the sin if someone came to check on the noise. When the twins played together, their fates were tied, and whatever the repercussions, Clara and Finn faced them together. It was rarely a matter of blame being placed on one child or the other, but that didn’t mean either one of them was above trying to get out of it or trying to save themselves, so they both straightened up and sat facing forward on the settee at the sound of the approaching footsteps breaking through the self-imposed quiet.

It was Polly who had come to find out about the commotion. Clara peeked over the back of the couch. She had been hoping for Ada and her eyes were already growing damp even though her aunt hadn’t acknowledged them.

Polly’s gaze was trained on the bits of broken glass and the metal frame which had come apart in two. The twins rose slowly to their knees, leaning over the back of the couch to observe their aunt as she lowered herself to the floor, brushing aside the broken glass before smoothing out the edges of a particularly well-loved photograph.

Clara knew the picture by heart. She knew them all well enough to imagine each subject in her mind’s eye—this one, a photograph of Aunt Polly, a few years younger with a toddler and a baby settled in her arms—Michael and Anna—the cousins Clara knew of but had never known.

“Aunt Polly,” Clara started, unable to keep quiet any longer, the need to explain and apologize practically spilling out of her, “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to—”

Polly glanced at Clara then, finally pulling her gaze from the photo as she clutched it to her chest. Polly didn’t have it in her to respond to the girl, though the look on her face communicated more than enough to the child, making Clara swallow down the rest of her words and the lump in her throat.

“Really, Aunt Polly, we...”

Finn’s attempt fizzled out as Polly stood without offering a response. It was more she could bear at the moment, dealing with the twins, dealing with their excuses or their hurt. Polly wasn’t even quite aware of it, some sort of all-consuming link formed between her and the ravaged photograph, between Polly and the children who were now irretrievable. Even if she were to ever again find them, Michael and Anna wouldn’t be the children in the photograph, not any longer. Polly gripped the photograph with tight fingers, afraid that by being exposed to the smoke and grit of Small Heath, the image would be stolen from her—dissolved into the ether just as her children had done. She walked out onto the lane, the door to number six banging shut in her wake.

Finn heaved a sigh when Polly took her leave. He seemed pleased enough with the outcome, but Clara took little comfort in the fact that they’d not received a smack or an assignment to the nearest corner for their behavior. Some part of Clara felt she almost might have preferred that. Somehow that seemed less cruel than leaving her to her own condemning mind.

Finn let himself off the hook once the glass and metal bits were collected. He readily went back to playing pretend as if the whole thing hadn’t happened, scurrying off to cavort out on the lane with whoever was nearby when Clara proved to be a less than eager playmate.

—

Less than an hour later, Clara sat on Tommy’s bed with her box of treasures and a pile of other special things she’d collected from her own bedroom, the trinkets she liked to have on display or to use with a certain regularity or the ones too big for her little box—a scruffy, well-loved teddy that had been Polly’s when she was young. Ribbons that had once been tied in a younger Polly’s hair, and then Ada’s and Anna’s. Seeing it all in one place, Clara was almost surprised by the size of the pile of little trinkets her aunt had gifted her over the years, all of it steeped in history and love, the weight of her guilt when she considered all Polly had given her nearly too much to bear.

With great care, Clara organized the items on the bed along with the frame she’d emptied of her own photo. Her brothers had been away for nearly two years now, but she spoke to their picture daily. She studied their faces more often than she studied her own. Clara usually kept the framed photograph of the boys in their uniforms on the table beside her bed, allowing her to say good morning and good night to the boys every day, to feel close to them when they were so far, but she didn’t need to keep them in a frame. Not when she’d wrecked Polly’s.

Clara sifted through the contents of her treasure box searching for her aunt’s locket. It was stashed safely beside the items her brothers had left behind nearly two years before—John’s deck of playing cards, Arthur’s folded sketches, and Tommy’s silver pocket watch—some of her most precious possessions lent from her favorite people. She was meant to look over their things, to keep them safe until their return. Clara wished for her brothers now. She longed for their hugs and their smiles. She wished for something more than Tommy’s empty bedroom which was steadily filling up with Clara’s guilt, some part of her certain she deserved to feel this way, deserved to be alone and drowning in it. Clara felt no doubt that she deserved her aunt’s disappointment.

She certainly didn’t deserve to keep these special treasures. Not if she couldn’t behave herself and be good. Not if she couldn’t stop herself from breaking things…her Aunt Polly’s special treasures.

Clara’s lip wobbled as she plucked the locket out of the box, holding it in her small palm. She took it out only on Sundays and very special days, wearing it to church with her aunt and then putting it back away in the box directly after to keep it safe, but it was a responsibility she didn’t deserve. It was a responsibility she couldn’t handle. A hot tear burned a stripe down Clara’s cheek as she set the necklace with the other things.

“And what’s this, then?” Polly’s voice came sharp and quick, the same tone Clara had been expecting when Polly first came across the broken photograph. And despite the jolt of surprise that ran through her at the sudden interruption, Clara was grateful for her aunt’s tone, some part of her relieved by the confirmation of her own thoughts, her own guilt. She was right to collect her things. She was right to plan to give them back. She didn’t deserve them.

Clara had fancied herself alone in the house aside from her sister. Ada was napping down the hall, silent and oblivious. Clara had meant to have the treasures packed up before encountering anyone else. She had intended to leave them out for Polly with a note explaining herself. An apology. And then, she intended to be gone to Uncle Charlie’s, gone to the horses who wouldn’t ask questions and would only be happy she’d come to brush them and bring them grain, though some part of Clara wondered if she deserved tenderness as unconditional as that.

The thoughts were nearly clear in her mind, all-consuming and screaming at her, but Clara hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Writing it out would be easier. And Clara didn’t imagine Polly wanted to talk with her anyway, not when she couldn’t even stand to yell at her for doing wrong. Polly had walked away without even a glance, as if Clara and Finn were nothing, invisible. And Clara had to fulfill her aunt’s wishes. She had intended to make herself that way.

Polly remained at the threshold thinking about how routine the moment felt. Clara was always getting herself worked up. She was always turning too many thoughts in her too clever mind and running to her Tommy’s side to fix it, even now. Even with him gone to France, the girl was in his room, trying to absorb his wisdom and care from the walls and the linens and the furniture. It was all so familiar, with the house so full of memories and wishes and the echo of their boys everywhere even though they were nowhere to be found. The reality of their absence hurt all the more. It hurt Clara more.

Polly knew the feeling well. It hurt her, too. Her own house had felt empty far before the war took Tommy, Arthur, and John away from Watery Lane. It had been empty since her Anna and her Michael had gone, since their father met his end. It seemed to Polly that homes were always emptying around her, people leaving or being taken. She idly wondered if it was inherited. In the blood like the Shelby good looks. Maybe it was.

Polly was no stranger to feeling alone in a place filled with memories, feeling alone in a place surrounded by other people. Polly hadn’t had a day to herself in only God knew how long. She’d been a mother for thirteen years, but an aunt for much longer. It had been years…decades, perhaps, but looking at her solemn little niece who had gotten herself this worked up with only an hour’s worth of solitude, Polly wondered if her lack of alone time wasn’t for the best.

Clara started piling up the meager collection, squeezing the items tight to her chest as she carried them across the room to where Polly stood. Clara held out the pile, her lip still quivering and her face covered with tear streaks as she waited for Polly to snatch them away.

“What is all this?” Polly asked again as she accepted the pile before it spilled from Clara’s arms and onto the floor.

Polly thumbed through the items as Clara turned away without a word. She left her aunt’s side and moved across the room, diving onto Tommy’s long-marooned mattress. As the storm took her over, Clara pulled the blanket up from the foot of the bed. She covered her head and body as she began to shake with the full force of her tears.

“Clara,” Polly prompted. She settled beside the girl and dropped the items in her arms onto the bed.

“Take them back,” Clara mumbled. “I don’t…I don’t…”

“These are your special things, love.”

Clara shook her head from under the covers. “They’re yours,” she mumbled. Clara struggled to find the breath for her words. She struggled to get beyond the hard press of tears in her burning throat. The pain of it all was nearly too much to bear, too much to hold. “I don’t…I don’t deserve them. I…I disappointed you.”

Polly took a breath, letting her hand fall on Clara’s trembling shoulder before moving to rub gentle circles on the girl’s back. Polly had been upset about the photo. She had been wounded by it, caught off guard, but Polly hadn’t overreacted, not really. Considering the emotions Polly had running through her, she could’ve handled it worse. She hadn’t been thinking about the twins or what they’d done, not really.

She had been thinking of herself, and her babies—her Anna and her Michael. Even before she’d heard the crash in the sitting room, she’d been thinking about her babies, distracted with thoughts of them for the whole morning. And it was unfortunate timing. That the twins, who had mostly grown out of the business of crawling about on the furniture, had chosen today of all days to fool around and knock the treasured photo to the ground…It was just upsetting. And though Polly hadn’t done anything—she hadn’t shouted or smacked, she realized Clara had gone ahead and done it for her. The oversensitive little girl had created a story in her head, giving Polly the role of disappointed aunt and making herself out to be a little villain. Clara had filled the void created by Polly’s lack of response and she’d done so incorrectly, assuming Polly was upset with her.

But she wasn’t. Polly could see now that it was just an unfortunate moment, one of those times when life wasn’t meant to clash, but the conditions mixed up just right, or just wrong, and it happened anyhow.

“I’m not disappointed in you, love,” Polly said, uncovering Clara’s head and encouraging her to lay back on the pillow. Clara followed Polly’s maneuvering until she was lying on Tommy’s pillow looking up at her aunt.

Polly took a deep breath, picking up the teddy bear. “I was disappointed in what happened.” Polly held the bear to her chest, glancing up toward the ceiling as she collected herself. “I reacted as I did because my heart’s a little tender today.”

They weren’t words Polly would often share, not emotions she bore to many. She more often preferred to keep them inside, but Polly found the words couldn’t be stopped now that she’d started. And somehow, Polly felt that Clara understood.

“Today, my son…your cousin…my…” Polly took a steadying breath. “Michael’s thirteenth birthday is today.

Polly let another breath come over her, the power of it allowing her to push forward.

“And this bear…”

Polly ran her fingers over the buttons and stitching, smiling at the teddy and then at Clara while tears pricked in her eyes.

“This bear was his before it was yours.”

Clara nodded. She’d always known it was Polly’s, then Michael’s, then hers. Clara had always liked that.

“It was actually Michael who gave it to you,” Polly laughed softly as she remembered, sniffling through her tears “He insisted you’d need something special, being the youngest Shelby and all.”

Polly handed the bear over to Clara, tucking them both under the covers when Clara hugged the bear to her chest. She’d always assumed the bear would make its way back to Michael someday, that Clara would find it in her heart to gift it to her grandchild child when Michael one day had children, but that hope was distant now, unlikely. Impossible, Polly imagined.

Polly began collecting Clara’s treasures from the bed and she piled them gently on the floor. Polly could already see the girl being drawn toward sleep, exhaustion taking over now that her aunt had soothed some of the hurt. Polly brushed the hair from Clara’s eyes, tucking the wayward strands behind an ear.

“Sleep now, love,” Polly said. She pressed a kiss to Clara’s hair and cupped her cheek, wiping away the tear marks. “It’ll all be easier to bear after you’re rested.”

Clara grasped Polly’s hand when she made to move away. “Aunt Polly?”

“What is it, love?”

“Will you stay?”

Polly considered Clara, and she considered what was needed to put her niece and the feelings and this whole incident to rest. “Only for a few minutes,” Polly said, gesturing for Clara to scoot over on the small bed. Polly laid down beside her niece, and Clara cuddled into Polly’s side, setting the teddy bear between them.

It was silent in the room, both of them tied up in their own thoughts, their own pains—still a little alone in it, but together nonetheless, their clasped hands allowing their hearts to do the same. Polly fell into a peaceful rest before Clara did, her gentle snores sounding off while Clara was still perfectly alert and staring at her brother’s ceiling. Clara tugged the blanket up over her aunt’s body, pressing a kiss on Polly’s head before settling back down beside her.

“Sleep, Aunt Polly," Clara whispered. "It’ll be easier to bear after you’re rested.” Clara hoped it would be true for both of them.

—

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thomasshelbydrabbles · 1 year

Text

The Messenger (22/22)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore, smut

Summary: It's Darby Day, and all things end as they begin. Adeline clears her ledger and settles old scores.

**This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher first if you want to understand everything.**

Note: As the show does, I am loosely using actual events and people from WW1 and other time periods represented in the show. These are fictionalized versions of both events and the people.

Word Count: 3271

A/N: Here we are, the end of another part. I’ve had this ending in mind since forever, and I’m so happy to be able to share it with you all.

Arrow House, 1922

“We’re setting a date.”

Adeline glanced up at Tommy, watched the firelight cast shadows on the angles of his face. They sat next to each other in bed, the house quiet at this hour of the night.

“For?”

“Wedding. We’re gettin’ married.”

Adeline smiled. “Are we? Is that what this here bobble on my hand is?”

Tommy gazed down at her, eyes soft. He traced the apple of her cheek. “Yes. Once the bloody Darby business is done, I’m marryin’ you. Makin’ you the official lady of the whole fuckin’ house, Missus Shelby. Then we’ll take a whole month off and fuck in every room in the house.”

She smiled into the kiss she pressed to his lips. “You’re a stubborn sort, Mister Shelby, so I know better than to argue with you about this. So, I’ll be agreeable this once and let you have your way. Consider it my wedding present.”

“We both know you’re only being agreeable because you want my cock, eh?”

Adeline smirked. “Take the win, Thomas.”

With a chuckle he captured her lips again, rolling her beneath him.

“You’ve not asked me about the Darby.”

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose before rolling onto his back. Adeline sighed. She could have been having sex. She wished she were having sex. But, there was this nagging feeling in the back of her mind. Like an itch she couldn’t reach. Made the hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Just got you back, not looking forward to fightin’ with you about whatever bloody plan it is you’ve made for the fuckin’ Darby.”

Adeline stared at the ceiling. She wanted to comfort him. For the first time in years, she wanted to lie. It would be easier that way, but easy never solved anything important. If it were easy, she could roll on top of him and spend the rest of the night feeling his cock deep inside her.

“We don’t always win,” she began, voice soft, hesitant. “Got a damn good record of winning, the two of us, but I know I’ve lost a time or two myself. There’s always something unaccounted for in campaigns of this scale. Weather, someone deciding to be clever for once. A bad day.”

“You’re soundin’ like Pol when she’s been in the port.”

Rolling onto her side, she took in Tommy’s profile, watched the smoke trail from his mouth as he took a drag from the cigarette between his lips. With a gentle finger, she traced his eyebrow, down the side of his face, lingering on his bottom lip. She re-memorized the shape of his face, the flecks of different shades of blue in his eyes, the pink of his lips.

“I’m not used to having something to lose.”

Fuck. She hadn’t meant to say those words out loud. Feeling the way Tommy’s body tensed, the slight hitch in his breathing she knew there’d be more conversation to come.

“We’re not going to lose, so just get that thought out of your pretty little head.”

“Are you not taking this seriously?”

Tommy sighed, rolled away from her to reach the side table, and snub out his cigarette before rolling back over to face Adeline. “Always take your safety seriously, love. We’re the Peaky Blinders, eh? Who’s gonna stop us?”

“Christ, you sound like fucking Arthur with his insane bravado. Use your fucking head, Tommy. We’ve a host of enemies more powerful than the likes of Billy Kimber that don’t give a toss about some little ragtag band of gangsters from the dirty streets of Small Heath.”

Tommy sat up. Adeline wanted to reach for him, to rub her hand up his back, soothe the tension from his shoulders. She wanted to go back in time, to before this conversation, to when she was under him. That moment had potential.

“Thought you had it all planned out. You and Alfie.”

“Don’t be jealous, Thomas, it doesn’t suit you. And we do have a plan, but no plan is without fault. Thinkin’ it is…means you’ve not done enough thinking.”

“What do you want me to do, eh? Fucking tell me, Adeline.”

“Be serious. You underestimate our enemies because you don’t understand. I don’t know how to make you understand either.”

He glanced down at her. “You’re scared.”

“Petrified.”

Epsom, 1922

Symmetry. Adeline poured herself a large glass of whiskey. She kept the bottle next to her as she settled herself on one of the stools. Part of her wanted to laugh at the situation. All things end as they began. From the corner of her eye, she watched Major Campbell take a seat at the opposite end of the bar. She slid the bottle down to him, heard him pour a portion into his own glass.

“There’s still one thing I’ve not quite sorted out,” Adeline said as she swirled the whiskey in her glass.

“And here you led me to believe you had everything well in hand, Miss Taylor.”

“Oh, I took care of your Field Marshall; his corpse is the reason the King’s guards are making such a fuss. Seems someone reported it had been an attempt on His Majesty's life, and the good Marshall was simply collateral damage. The Irish are proving to be quite clever, and more daring in their maneuvers of late.”

“You blamed the Fenians?”

Adeline tossed back the rest of her whiskey. “I cleared my ledger, not one for leaving outstanding debts.”

“Is that so?” Campbell asked.

“Aye. He died quickly - if that makes a difference to you. Wasn’t pleasant, but fortunately, I was short on time.”

“Did you do it yourself, or did you have one of the Peaky Blinder scum do it for you?”

“Wasn’t Peaky Blinder business, Major. As you informed me, I was specifically chosen for this assignment. Something about my skill set. Information you shouldn’t have been privy to.” She glanced over at him. “How did you learn about Arke, the truth this time, without that nonsense about finding files inside the SIS office.”

“Ah, the one piece of information you’ve yet to divine. I didn’t lie to you about that.”

Adeline tilted her head, observing his face, his posture. “Perhaps not, but you’re leaving something out, something important that completes the picture. You’re an important man to an important man, but neither of you is important enough to have access to information about me.”

“Perhaps you’re not as important as you think you are.”

She looked down at her empty glass and, missed the whiskey the Garrison served. “I would give just about anything, Major Campbell, to be insignificant.”

“If there is one thing I am certain about concerning you it’s that you were never meant for an insignificant life. If it hadn’t been my desk your file landed on, it would have been another.”

Adeline nodded her head. Perhaps he was correct in his assessment. Nothing simply landed on someone’s desk, certainly not a file so top secret most of the men who knew of its existence were dead. After all, she’d killed them all. Yet, it seemed as though her and Alfie’s lingering fear was justified; they’d missed someone the first time they killed Arke. She couldn’t figure out who it could be that would know not just her name, but her face.

“Just picked my name from a stack of files on your desk?”

Major Campbell took a sip of his drink. “I’d already met you; that’s what caught my attention when I saw your file on my desk. I’ll admit, I had my doubts given what I knew of you, a school teacher in Small Heath being a wartime operative? Now, after working with you, I think the file did you a grave disservice.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It is my contention that if we’d met before the likes of Thomas Shelby caught your attention, we might have found ourselves on the same side, working together.”

“I doubt you would have enjoyed the experience. I’m told, quite often, actually, that I’m rather difficult to work with, even when we’re on the same side.”

Campbell didn’t respond. He finished the whiskey in his glass and stood. Walking to where Adeline still sat, he leaned against the bar.

“Difficult, but valuable. I look forward to working with you in the future, Miss Taylor. Our mission is far from finished.”

The sound of footsteps approaching drew her attention. A small, bittersweet smile graced her face. Closure never quite worked the way she thought it would. She’d expected to feel something…more. When she saw the boys enter the bar, she slid from the stool to greet them.

“Everything sorted?”

Tommy nodded, his eyes fixed on Campbell, who for the first time since he’d entered the room looked nervous.

“He doesn’t look like much, pet. Much too tidy, right, too clean, to have been such a problem for you.”

Adeline laughed. “Looks can be deceiving. And you’re one to scold me when you toyed with the Italians for as long as you did.”

“Right,” Tommy said, “Let’s get this done before the soldiers and coppers come to clear everyone out.”

“You intend to kill me?” Campbell asked.

“Aye. I’ve no further use for you. Shame for you since I’m convinced you’re someone’s puppet. I thought telling Churchill about me would pull the right string. Seems I miscalculated. Regardless, you’ve brought Arke back from the dead – I’ll not forgive you for that.”

Arthur grabbed Campbell, hauled him over to a chair, and sat him down. Michael hurried to tie him to it.

“Polly know you’re here?” Adeline asked.

Michael glanced up at her, cheeky grin on his face. “She does. Told me to get it fuckin’ right and make her proud.”

Adeline nodded, pleased Polly’d come to her senses. They’d need every advantage they could muster before the dust settled. Everything with Campbell, the Irish, the bloody Field Marshall had been the opening move, something to test the waters.

“Give me his hat,” Adeline demanded, hand out.

With a curious look, Michael snatched it none too gently from Campbell’s head. Alfie handed her a pair of scissors, a knowing look on his face. She took the hat over to the bar and cut it into small pieces.

“Michael, hold his mouth open.”

One by one, she shoved each piece into Campbell’s mouth, enjoying the enraged look on his face as Michael tilted his head back.

“I promised myself that day you had me dragged from the house on Watery Lane, that I’d kill you. If you recall, I told you I was making a list of the ways I was going to accomplish that task. Number one was tearing your hat into small pieces, or burning it, and shoving the remains down your throat for you to choke on.”

She finished filling his mouth with as much of the hat as she could fit. Taking a step back, she admired her work. Campbell’s cheeks were red from anger and lack of oxygen, and sweat had begun to gather at his brow. Saliva dripped from his mouth since he was unable to swallow around all the pieces of hat in his mouth. Labored breathing came through his nose and his chest heaved with the effort of it.

“Tommy?”

He handed her a gun. She placed the barrel against Campbell’s good knee. The fear in his eyes delighted her. Anticipation worked so well in these situations. He knew exactly how it would feel to have a bullet pierce through the delicate bits of his knee. She could linger, draw it out - heighten everything he built up inside his own mind, allow him to be the master of his own torture. Fortunately for him, they were still on a timetable.

“If you’d had any idea who Arke was, what she was capable of, I think you might have left the file alone, but it’s too late for all that, and I am fond of symmetry. The night I shot you, I regretted only doin’ the one leg as soon as I left the building. Life is too short to live with regret.”

Pressing the barrel more firmly against his knee, just to watch the way he squirmed in the chair, she smiled at him as she squeezed the trigger. His screams were muffled by the bits of his own hat shoved in his mouth. Campbell nearly toppled the chair as he thrashed in his bindings. The movement only made the wound bleed more. Moving to Tommy’s side, she pressed a kiss to his lips.

“I also wanted to break each of his fingers, and have his tongue nailed to the door of the Garrison, but I don’t want to be selfish. And I know I’ve made you wait to kill him.”

“Pour yourself a drink, eh, love?” Tommy suggested.

“Yeah,” Arthur agreed. “Make yourself all comfy like while we finish ‘im off.”

Doing just that, Adeline walked down the bar, grabbed the bottle of whiskey, and sat down on a stool just in time to hear the distinctive sound of a finger breaking. Glancing up, she saw Alfie showing Michael how to do it. Carefully explaining where to pull, to push, which finger to begin with. Tommy and Arthur had both pulled the caps from their heads, no doubt she’d have a pair of eyes to match the tongue

“Do you think you’ve won, Miss Taylor?”

Adeline looked over just as Arthur knocked Campbell’s face to the side. Mangled bits of his hat sat at his feet covered in blood, and tears, and drool.

“It’s not always about winning. It could be argued you won, by default or accident, or the hand of God by unearthing Arke,” she waved her hand dismissively. “Can’t change any of that, but this? Our little game of chess, the one you’ve been so fuckin’ smug about, thinking you were winning all along, thinking you were in charge - well, that game I can win. Even if you are just a pawn, removing you from the board might be enough to make the king reveal himself. It’s the long game I’ve been playing, Major Campbell. Shame you never learned that.”

“This I know,” his voice wheezed from his lips.

Adeline felt a bit impressed that he could muster words at all.

“Ahead of you is damnation. But I have the love of God and the certainty of salvation.”

Adeline nodded, finished the drink she’d poured for herself, and stood from the stool, leaving the empty glass next to the gun she’d placed on the bar top. With measured steps she moved to where Campbell hung limply in the chair, supported by the ropes binding him. She knelt down next to him, cupped his blood and tear-stained cheek with her palm, and tilted his head up so their eyes met.

“Aye. Damnation awaits me, and I’ll greet it like an old friend. And, at that time, I’ll look back on my life, my choices and nod to myself with the knowledge that it was worth it. The sacrifices, the pain - all of it worth it.” Her smile held a sort of mocking pity as she gazed at him. “My dear Major Campbell, when you die, when you embrace this salvation of yours, face your God, will you be able to be honest with yourself, with your God, and claim it was worth it?”

Oh, the look on his face, the defeat and the anger and the simmering rage would bring her delight for days to come. She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “I didn’t think so.”

When she moved back to the bar, she knew the boys would end it quickly. No more sport in it with him so defeated. In the mirror above the bar, her eyes caught sight of Arthur wrapping Major Campbell’s tongue in his handkerchief. She heard Michael and Tommy whispering to each other, and noticed him handing Michael his hat.

Michael took his eyes.

Alfie performed a modified circumcision.

Tommy shot him in the forehead.

For a moment, the only sound was the distant roar of the crowd. Then the doors burst open and at least a dozen men dressed as coppers flooded into the room. Before they could react, each had at least one gun pointed at them. The man holding her brought his lips to her ear. Adeline’s wide eyes met Tommy’s. Knew he’d do something stupid. Idiot man. She shook her head and watched him grit his teeth.

“Momento Mori.”

Ice filled her veins as the whispered words rattled around in her brain. If the man hadn’t had a secure grip on her, she would have fallen to the ground. Impossible scenarios flooded her brain. She’d had this nightmare before.

Loud enough for the rest of the room to hear, he said, “Come with us quietly, and we leave the rest of ‘em alone. We’re not here for petty gangsters.”

“Adeline - ”

She ignored Tommy’s shout, shook her head as though it would block out the sound of his voice. She couldn’t look at him. One look at his face and she’d be the one doing something foolish, something that would get them all killed.

Darting her eyes around the room, she caught Alfie’s glance. Silently she pleaded with him to understand. His body tensed, his jaw so tight she feared he’d break a tooth. Squaring her shoulders, Adeline pushed down everything she was feeling. The last bits of herself dissolved as Arke consumed her. She noted the dawning horror of understanding on Alfie’s face. Good. There might still be hope.

“Keep them safe.”

Taking her statement as agreement, the man holding her began to drag her from the room. She heard the boys struggle, heard them shout after her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she braced herself for the worst. Then, Alfie hollered at them to shut up and she breathed a bit easier. Until she couldn’t hear them anymore. Another part of her heart shattered. Should she have looked at Tommy one last time? Taken in his face? Tears burned her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Cauterized wounds healed best.

They loaded her into a police wagon. She snorted as they settled in the back with her. As if she would be going anywhere, or many any sort of escape attempt. They had maneuvered her beautifully. If she weren’t so upset about the whole thing, she might compliment them.

“You aren’t coppers.”

They didn’t answer her as the van began to move. Had Campbell managed to arrange this? Ulster Volunteers perhaps? No, that wouldn’t explain the key phrase so cleverly whispered into her ear. Might be Churchill who sent them to collect her, to ensure his weapon remained within reach. He might be powerful enough to have access to that information. Or perhaps, a different file had found its way to his desk. Her silent puppeteer, working from the shadows.

She closed her eyes, pictured Tommy’s smile as they drove. She lost track of time as they continued. As the wagon rolled to a stop, she opened her eyes. They handed her down from the van. Glancing around she saw nothing but open fields and a single grave.

A wry smile touched her lips. Looking up to the sky, she closed her eyes, felt the warmth of the sun on her face. “Momento Mori.”

Gunshots rang out.

She heard bodies land near her; braced herself.

Nothing.

Blinking her eyes open, she choked on the air desperately trying to fill her lungs.

Impossible.

The man standing before her was dead.

“Hello, my dear Arke.”

~FIN~

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75 @mootiemoose @ohshititsfenharel @fairy-witch-bitch @portents @alreadybroken-ts @books-livre @missymurphy1985 @lovemissyhoneybee @theshelbyclan @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder fanfiction #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc #the messenger

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sanguineterrain · 1 year

Text

peaky blinders masterlist

note: i do not write for peaky blinders anymore!

SERIES (discontinued)

no prisoners. part 2. ─ thomas shelby x reader

it's your first day at the shelby mansion, since becoming the next mrs. shelby. emotions run high. (arranged marriage, elements of fear and violence)

BLURBS.

thomas shelby x reader ─ “go back to sleep.”

#peaky blinder fanfiction #thomas sheby x reader

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redahlia-writes · 2 years

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peaky blinders masterlist

* contains explicit smut (my entire blog is 18+) - masterlist

tommy shelby

no grave can hold my body down. | series | ao3 only *

because the longing needs the leaving / and the loving needs the bleeding. | series | ao3 only *

#peaky blinder fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x ofc #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x ofc

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lovelybucky1 · 6 months

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Treat Me Wrong

Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink

warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

“I think we should break up,” you say.

Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.

This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?

“I’m not happy!” you say.

Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”

“Love and attention,” you huff.

“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”

“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"

"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."

His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.

"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"

Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"

"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"

He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.

"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.

"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.

"I have certain needs that they satisfy."

You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."

Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."

You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."

He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"

"Yes, Tommy."

"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"

"Why would I get upset?"

Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."

"Harsh?" you ask.

"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."

"Okay," you breathe.

Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.

You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.

You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.

"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.

Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.

“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.

Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.

"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.

"N-none," you whimper.

"Sounds like business is slow."

He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.

"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.

"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.

"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."

You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.

That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.

"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.

"No, sir," you reply.

You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.

"Mm, good."

He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.

"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.

With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.

"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."

You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.

"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."

"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.

"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"

It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.

"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."

"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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drcranessweetestdoe · 2 months

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heyyyyy

could you do a Tommy shelby fic?

in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!

hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx

Finally mine

warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness

pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader

summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18

(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.

It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.

One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.

For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.

That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.

“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.

(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”

———-

Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.

It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.

Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.

“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.

He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.

Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”

—----

From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.

Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.

He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.

—-----

Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.

When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.

She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.

Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.

~T.S

She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.

——-

By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.

She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.

She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.

A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.

His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”

He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.

He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.

While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.

When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.

“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.

“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.

“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.

“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.

“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.

“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.

“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”

He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.

He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.

“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”

He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.

Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—

“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.

“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.

He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”

“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.

“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.

Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.

“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.

“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.

When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.

He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.

After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.

“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”

He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”

taglist: @your-nanas-house

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cheekypeakyblinder · 1 year

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The Peaky brothers and children are making my ovaries explode

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futurefamousdeadmusician · 6 months

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You Have a Deal

Author's note; Hey all, this is my first run at publishing my writing, hope someone likes it and let me know what you think! I have done some mild PB plot alterations to fit my story better.

Summary; When the Shelby family is under attack from the Changrettas the youngest sibling, Lillian, makes a deal with a distant business partner to ensure the safety of her loved ones.

Content warnings; mild spoilers.

The air of the afternoon was cold this day. Impenetrable grey covered the sky above Birmingham and pressed an awful feeling into Lillian. Her gaze down at the cobblestone, she made her way through the lively Calver Lane until she reached her destination, Solomon’s Mill. She looked up at the building and thought once again of her reasons for coming. No one had known she was here, and she liked it that way. With her family under siege and fair reasoning long gone from the Shelby family, she decided that it was her who needed to devise a plan. A way out. A way through. She moved through the final steps until she reached the door of the old brick building. Built sometime in the 1820’s she could tell Solomon’s Mill was a long standing business on the outskirts of the city. A staple of Birmingham that lasted through the most disheartening economic conditions. Owned and founded by the Solomon’s family after they immigrated to England. Nothing shook this old place; not guns, not violence, not the bloody communists. Always there and always of interest to the Peaky Blinders. They were cordial, if not cooperative at times. Now, Lillian relied on that mutual respect to hold steady when she pushed open the large barn-style doors.

The air sweeping from the factory carried the sent of the fresh grain being processed through the large, rusted machinery. The shadows of the quick moving men bustling around danced at her feet as she walked through the threshold and made her way to a small room attached to right wood slat wall. Rapping three times on the fragile wooden frame a younger man looked up from his desk and cocked an eyebrow to Lillian.

“Ye’,” he said quickly, barely parting his lips to speak.

Slowly, calmly, with the utmost care to appear collected in her appearance, she spoke, “ I’m here to see Mister Solomons.”

Eyeing her up and down, the nameless man gradually stood from his seat and addressed her more directly than before. He stood not much taller than the young Shelby. Short curls held close to his head and a tattered apron hung off his thin frame.

“And what’s yer’ order of business?” he questioned.

“I believe that to be a private matter.”

He walked around his desk and Lillian did her best not to release the stern eye contact she held on him since her arrival. A lesson from Tommy she knew well, for when you look into the eyes of another man it is much harder to lie; and much harder to kill.

“Open the purse.” He spoke flatly, unblinking.

She dropped the small purse defiantly onto the wood-back chair in front of her. She flipped open the small titanium latch and took a small step back to allow the gaunt man his inspection uninterrupted. He drew a pencil from behind his ear and flicked through her things, like they were dirty. Like they were not worthy to be touched by the human hand. Without a word, he looked once again into the dark eyes of the woman before him and peaked over he shoulder into the doorway leading back to the vast factory floor.

“Come with me,” he ordered in the same flat tone.

Picking up her bag, Lillian followed him as he walked quickly out into the large room and maneuvered through the men and machines working in impeccable rhythm. She willed herself to keep pace with the small man, heels echoing through the loud space and causing men to turn their heads both in amusement and strict curiosity. Once her escort reached the back most offices of the mill he cracked open the door and spoke softly in a language Lillian did not recognize. After a few exchanges the man stepped to the motioned for Ms. Shelby to enter the small, dark closet.

There, Mr. Solomons sat at an old oak desk, leaned far back in his seat with the amusement of a child lingering on his bearded face.

“Ahhh Lillian,” he spoke loudly, “to what do I owe this enormous pleasure.”

“Mr. Solomons.” A brief pause as Lillian sat herself slowly on the chair paced strangely close to the overbearing desk. “There are a few matters I wish to discuss with you and I preferred them to be in person.”

“Ah sweetheart, and what might that be. Did the new sweets parlor open up just past Harding, is that it?” He bellowed with laughter and Lillians eyes remained engrained in his skull. She always thought back to the words of her older brother in moments of this gravity.

“Don’t look away from them - the men who wish to kill you - it only gives them time to make that decision.”

Once the fitful bits of laughs subsided and the ringing from the old slat walls hushed away, Lillian spoke in the same calm tone she had mastered years earlier.

“I believe I have something you want.”

Another astonished chucked escaped the burly man.

“And what would that be?”

A cold breeze moved through the room. It never occurred to Lillian why men of such power chose to have a room so small to reside in. When her family had the means, they awarded themselves luxury. But Alfie, he hid away in this small closet. Maybe it made himself feel bigger in some way.

“Brooklyn.”

“The fuck you mean ‘Brooklyn’,”

“Brooklyn. New York. Chicago. Shit maybe Boston by the time we are done.”

The boss moved up farther in his seat. He readjusted his head to the side, believing that he may have heard the young girl wrong.

“Love, what the fuck are you on about? Did you brother send you.”

Almost too quickly she responded, “I came on my own accord.” She didn’t like always falling under the wing of her family; Tommy in particular. While the Shelby name came with certain privileges bestowed upon her at birth, she valued her identity. So long she had relied on Thomas to protect the family. Now, with the looming threat of the Italian’s hanging over like a dark cloud, she was on her final idea to pull her family through to safety.

“Shelby company limited has taken a special interest in the American liquor market. We feel that it would be in your interest, as well as ours, if we cooperated on this matter. Together, we both have much to gain,” she continued, finally regaining her full composer.

“Ye’ and why would I want business in America? What’s the fuckin’ catch?” Solomons pressed.

“The Changretta family has made advances against my family. We are now using this opportunity to move into the American market while they are occupied here. This is a quite unique chance to collaborate with our American acquaintance without the influence of the Italians. With your power, as well as ours, I think that we could quite a fitting sum.” For the first time, Lillian broke her gaze away, reaching into her purse to exhume a cigarette before flashing her eyes back to Alfie. He leaned back in his chair, the creak of the old wood breaking the frigid silence. He gaze slowly moved back and forth over the ceiling while his hands rested behind his head.

“Power,” he began. “Your power and my power,” almost as if he was explaining the concept to a child. “Where is your brother at, Lillian?”

“He is attending to other business in Bristol.” Lillian, as a principle, didn’t like lying. But, as a Shelby, it came as naturally as breathing.

“Where is Arthur?”

“Overseeing the tracks.” A puff of smoke escaped from her lips following her statement.

“Then who in the fuck sent you?” His anger showed. Frustration. Questioning. He was half expecting one of Tommy’s men to appear from behind the doorframe and put a bullet between his eyes, finally revealing this to be an elaborate set up orchestrated by the young woman before him and her devilish relatives. But the bullet never flew and Lillian sat motionless in his chair waiting to respond.

“I come as a representative of the Shelby Company Limited with a legitimate proposal for enterprise cooperation.”

“And why should I trust the lot of you? Bunch of gypsy crooks.”

She sat once again, silent, patient, and held his gaze for just a moment to long. Leaning forward, she put the stiff out in a small crystal bowl on the corner of Mr. Solomon’s desk. She retrieved her handbag from her feet and pulled out a small, white envelope. After tossing it lightly on the desk in front of the bearded man she returned to her natural position in the chair, arms crossed, the Shelby, deadpan expression returning to her features. Alfie pulled his spectacles onto the bridge of his nose from the chair laced around his neck. He collected the envelope and carefully took out the ivory card within. A black handprint stained the cover. Mr. Solomons didn’t need to examine the paper any further and flicked up his eyes to meet Lillian’s once again.

“Every one of us got one.”

“I see.”

“If the Shelby family dies, your possibilities of every entering the American market get buried with us. Or burned rather…” she trailed on, looking off to the side, examining the bookshelf behind him. “You know, Gypsy things.”

Alfie released a deeply held sigh and placed the card down back onto the desk with more care than the original owner did. Somewhere, deep down, he held grace for the young woman before him. He recognized that she was a result of her surroundings. Born into the small, violent hole that is Small Heath as a Shelby and since her birth has survived through the forces of her family and her gritty resilience. He new she wanted out. She loved her family, that was her weakness, but she longed to see the hills of the Netherlands and the cathedrals of Austria and the new bustling cities of America. To do this though, she must survive.

“I would need a more formal manner of proposal, numbers and such,” he explained still keeping that condescending tone. But Lillian already began to sit up straighter in anticipation carful not to let this emotion overtake her. “But tentatively, I believe we can work something out.”

A small smirk graced across her lips as she extended her hand. “Very well, Mr. Solomons, I’ll have my associates reach out to your tomorrow.” With that, she was on her feet, quickly remembering to pick up the dreadful letter she had pulled out moments ago. Carful in her movements she walked slowly out of office and shut the door behind her, leaving Alfie sitting in silence, wondering what he had just agreed to. He held much respect for Thomas and therefor placed some onto his younger counterpart.

Lillian exited the factory and began down the darkening street until she was able to hail an oncoming cab.

“Watery Lane, please,” she said quietly to the driver who nodded at her instructions. She was eager to meet with Aunt Polly and tell her of her plan of action knowing the elder Shelby would be much more receptive to this idea. Her only fear was Thomas, but that would have to wait. She just hoped that she had done the right thing.

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traumadumpwriter · 12 days

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Heavy trigger warning: Blood, violence, gore. Mentions of self harm, sexual assault and rape.

Check out the other chapters by going on the Freedom tag on my page!

Sorry for the slow updates. I’m much more regular on my Wattpad and already have a lot more chapters uploaded there. The @ is slowlychanging .

Don’t forget to like and comment if you’re enjoying! It really does mean a lot. Stay safe xx

Freedom: A John Shelby mini fic

Chapter Ten: 4199 words

The intense car ride home reminded John far too much of that first car ride with Alice - after he and Arthur had seen her in the middle of the road that fateful night - and it made his stomach turn as he was once again plagued by questions that were all likely to have bad answers.

He was careful to keep the blanket wrapped tightly around her, holding her close to his chest and looking down at the high cheekbones and plump lips of her blood splattered face with an uncomfortable feeling of desperation. Sweat dripped from his face onto hers - but he daren't move his hand to wipe it - unable to bring himself to unwrap his arms from the tight position they were in around her, like he was holding pieces of shattered porcelain together.

Once they were back at his, John wasted no time cleaning things up - quickly checking between her passed out body on the sofa and the boiling water as he prepared a bath. He wasn't too sure of where all the blood had come from; it certainly wasn't all Ergin's and that was worrying him deeply. He moved fast but careful.

Gently, he placed her in the steel tub and watched the red rise to the surface, clotting and creating ink like patterns in the water. His hand swished away all those patterns swiftly though, delicately patting her from head to toe with a flannel until all of the blood was gone from her skin.

In most other situations her naked body would've excited him. But as he lifted her from the tub and carried her to his bed, he felt as if he were handling a delicate antique doll, terrified to crack the china skin. Her injuries were now clear and the water had even opened some of them up, creating more small trickles of blood although not enough for John to panic. His previous fear subsided as he realised the blood was from shallow cuts, littered amongst the hundreds of scars she already had from her neck down to her toes.

That confused him. "Did they make her do this? Or did she do this to herself somehow?" They weren't there that morning and she'd been busy all day, so the first option seemed more likely.

He couldn't imagine ever wanting a woman to hurt herself for his own pleasure but he'd heard of some sick minded men enjoying it - maybe the Turks were in that category of men. His jaw clenched at the thought. Maybe that's how Tommy knew Ergin would like her.

Then, he naturally ran his eyes along the rest of her body; some bruises already starting to form - particularly the finger shaped ones around her neck. That made him painfully grimace.

He could only look at her for a second longer before quickly pulling a clean blanket over the sleeping body and then pacing towards the front door, his anger reaching new heights as he imagined whatever had happened to Alice in those twenty five horror filled minutes spent inside the enemy territory.

With flared nostrils and shaking hands, he pulled on his coat and stormed out the house, instantly lighting a cigarette as he strode towards Watery lane. After only a couple seconds of walking he heard a familiar set of heels stepping towards him and soon Aunt Pol appeared out of the fog, strutting with a concerned expression.

"Is she alright John? What happened?" She asked worriedly, but could guess the answer after seeing his furrowed brow and clenched fists.

He simply shot the woman a glare before continuing his march, determined to get to his brothers and give them the nastiest fight he'd ever given them. Pol of course let out a huff before turning around and following him, having to walk faster to keep up with his wide stepped pace.

"She's alive isn't she?" Her voice had an unintentional amount of panic in it.

"Only just."

"Well if it's only just what the fuck are you doing out here and not with her? See to your brother tomorrow." The tone had lost its previous softness as she snapped at her nephew.

"It ain't just Tommy, it's you and Arthur too. All three of you fucking put her up to this." John hissed, his eyes staying focused on the pavement ahead.

"Oh please! Like you're not the one completely desperate to see that bloody bastard husband of hers dead. The Turks are gone and now it's only time until he comes to us-"

"What's the point him being dead if she ain't alive?" He stopped his pace and turned to his aunt dramatically. "Huh? I can't marry a dead woman! Can I!... She's fucking lucky she made it outta there alive and she certainly ain't fucking unscathed as Tommy fucking put it!" With an angry scoff he chucked his cigarette to the ground. "And you know what! After tonight I don't give a fuck about her being married already! Fuck that bastard, I'm gonna marry her! She ain't his and she never was - dead or alive - she's mine! And ain't no one, not you, not Tommy, not anyone is gonna take her from me! You got that?"

His eyes were wide and his breathing heavy - never having been angry enough at his aunt to rant at her so aggressively before. Usually he would keep his mouth shut and step into line, but something about Alice was making that submissive part of him disappear - at least for anyone who wasn't her - and he felt as if he could fight the whole world if it meant his girl would be okay.

Polly didn't tut or raise her hand at his outburst as she usually would at the slightest infraction though, staying calm as she looked at her nephew and only felt pity. The proposal was something she'd seen coming a mile off, but the pain he was feeling as a result of tonight - it was palpable. From his steely, reddening eyes to his raised but ragged voice; the young man was desperately in love. Desperately in love with a woman even more damaged than himself.

"Oh how awful love can be." Polly thought, letting out a sigh before adopting a more gentle tone again. There wasn't any satisfying answer to his outburst and so much like he did to her, she replied with another initial question of her own.

"Why have you left her on her own then? You and I both know that's a bad idea-"

"She's out cold." Again, John cut Pol off icily but could gradually feel himself calming down as he looked into his aunts comforting, knowledgeable face. If she was calm, then things had to be okay - that was the way he'd always known although he struggled to feel it in that moment. "So I can't even ask her what happened but she were covered in blood, fucking naked n only half awake when I found her so I'm sure you can fucking guess!"

Polly felt her heart drop to her stomach, a wave of nauseous guilt overtaking her. She should've expected it but she didn't, having faith in her nephews plan and even in the merciless violence that Clara's nightmare daughter seemed to have been capable of.

"And it don't even matter that the Turks are fucking dead. Because they still hurt her. I'd rather them be alive so I could fucking do to them what they done to her." His voice still frothed with anger but was considerably quieter now, sounding more tired and depressed than amped and violent as it was previously.

"Perhaps it wasn't as bad as John thought though. Maybe she did just dance as Tommy had said she would. Perhaps, Alice had been able to kill them before they had the chance to really hurt her." Polly tried to have herself believe as she attempted to soothe her heartbroken nephew.

"She's a tough girl and I'm sure she'll have Tommy herself when she wakes up." One corner of John's lip nearly twitched upwards at that image but was quickly anchored down before it actually had the chance to rise.

"She'll be fine, John." Pol continued, placing a hand on his shoulder before starting her walk back to the family home. "But you should be with her now. Tomorrow will come soon enough."

And with that she was gone back into the fog, stepping with less speed than before now that she knew Alice was alive and at least semi-okay.

It was news that Arthur waited impatiently to hear, unable to see his brother himself after hearing about the bloodstained car ride from Isaiah. He knew exactly how angry John would be and couldn't blame him one bit for whatever violence he was sure to want to inflict on him. But that wasn't the thing that stressed him most - he'd grown a genuine soft spot for the extra ordinary woman and was now terrified that he'd played a role in another traumatic experience or at the worst, her untimely death.

Sure, he knew the Turks sadistic reputation - but he also knew Alice's and now, like Pol, realised that he had possibly placed too much faith in it. After all, she wouldn't have been able to torture David without the assistance of the brothers - in fact if they hadn't been there he probably would've had his way with her. Why hadn't he even considered that fact until now? Why did he have to just trust that Tommy's plan would go completely perfect?

Stressed, he ran his hands through his hair and looked up at the clock - each second dragging agonisingly as he waited for his aunts return. As soon as the door opened and her dark locks were visible, he rose from his seat and opened his mouth but Polly beat him to the punch.

"She's out cold as your brother put it - you won't be getting any real answers until tomorrow. But alive at least."

Arthur nodded silently, relief flooding him although you wouldn't be able to tell from his stoic expression.

"I've never seen him like this before, Arthur. He was on his way to whack you and Tommy until I stopped him... He's completely in love with that girl. He'll never forgive us for this."

Meanwhile a few streets away, John's face was as unreadable as his brothers but instead of being relieved, he felt sick. He carefully carried Alice up the stairs and into his bed - her body still heavy and limp as she showed no signs of waking soon. The blanket remained draped around her and soon she was tucked under another one - an attempt at providing the most comfort and warmth possible without actually wrapping himself around her.

She didn't stir even slightly throughout the night, remaining stiff to point where John would check her breathing occasionally - unable to sleep until the early hours himself. And when he did finally fall asleep, he was plagued with nightmares; his usual ones of war but now they cruelly had Alice intertwined into them too.

It was around eight that the woman finally awoke, instantly groaning from the pain across her body before her eyes even opened. She could smell John and feel the soft texture of his bed against her bare skin, something she peacefully soaked in for a second before the memories of the night before came crashing into view and she became acutely aware of her unwilling nudity - along with the sore injuries she seemed to be covered in.

Panicked, she sat up straight - instantly gasping and falling back down as she felt a shooting pain in her ribs. John shot up at the slight noise and quickly turned towards her, feeling as if he hadn't slept at all and was immediately alert.

Seeing her deep brown eyes open again, although they were full of fear, lifted a weight from his shoulders that he didn't even realise was there and he was quick to try to soothe her.

"Hey, hey it's okay-" he went in for a hug but she sharply flinched away, panicked breaths and tearful eyes making her look as vulnerable as a shot lamb.

"It hurts.. my ribs. I think they're broken." She gasped, looking down at her body and letting out an even more scared pant before looking up at John.

"I, I didn't want to get nude. Please don't think I'm a whore. I, I should have listened to you. I'm sorry." Her voice was a weak stammer and tears started to brew at her waterline as John quickly jumped out of the bed and raced to stand by her side - his speed unintentionally making her jump in fright.

Before she could panic any more though, he bent down and placed a long kiss on her forehead, holding her bruised face with one hand whilst the other interlocked with her shaking fingers.

"It's alright. You're okay. I'm with you. No one is ever gonna hurt you or have their bloody way with you again. I swear on it." He cooed, instantly relaxing her slightly. "And Tommy is gonna pay for sending you in there, I promise."

The silence that followed accompanied by John's gentle touch felt like heaven compared to the traumatic night before. She was safe now.

It gave Alice a real moment to collect her thoughts and calm herself down, the tears that were brewing quickly evaporating. She pondered on his words, how much it clearly worried him that she might've had sex with the Turks, and that was something she had to set straight before it could fester on his or her mind any longer. She didn't want him to think of her even more dirty than she already was.

"They didn't have their way, John. I wasn't raped. In fact, you arrived just in time." Her voice was still quivering, although considerably less than before. His touch seemed to have almost numbed her, a nonchalant energy to the R word as her body realised that she was now safe and no longer had to panic.

It was a word that some women wouldn't dare to utter, but Alice was so desensitised to it that it rolled off her tongue like any other word would. John decided not to think on that though, gently stroking her bruised cheekbone and placing another kiss on her forehead before he spoke again, a small relieved smile on his lips but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He didn't know whether to believe her or not - clearly so scared of being judged as some sort of whore although he could never see her that way.

"If I had been a few minutes later?" He asked quietly, trying to coax the full truth from her swollen lips.

"Then I imagine he would have had me." She replied plainly, no more shakiness or fear in her voice. The blunt tone was all he needed to know there was no lie, in fact it was her familiar blunt tone of brutal honesty - the words that came from it usually leaving a trail of hurt upon whoever received them. "But he didn't. You were there in time. So there is nothing to dwell on."

Another moment of silence passed, his hands remaining in their delicate positions before he slowly pulled them away and stepped backwards from the bed, getting a full look at her bruised neck and feeling that rage from last night kick in again.

"I'm assuming everything else went well? The Turks are no longer a problem?" She continued, not even acknowledging John's visible change in mood.

"Burnt to the ground." He spoke lowly.

"Good."

There was now an awkwardness in the air as John clearly wanted to say so many things but didn't know how to. Alice could guess what he was thinking anyway.

"I'm still going to punch your brother in his fucking face. I thought I was gonna die when Ergin was... and Tommy told me I'd be fine." Her voice was losing its confidence again as she thought of the fear she'd felt and she had to cut herself off to stop the shake from coming back. The anger in John's eyes was already blistering - he didn't need to hear how scared she'd really been.

He knew anyway, thinking back on the tales she'd told of Jones and how much it must've felt like being with him. He could never let that happen to her again. So, with a heavy exhale, he looked to his feet and then up again before speaking.

"I'm gonna drive you to the hospital, get those ribs sorted. We'll pick up Ada on the way to keep you company, I doubt you'll be there very long anyway." He instructed, moving across the room to get dressed as Alice lay with an irritated scowl.

She knew he was right but god she resented being told what to do - even by John.

"And what am I to do in the hospital? What about Tommy? I want to give him a piece of my mind." She moaned.

"You're to lay still, recover and stay safe." He replied before making his way back over to the bed with a small pile of clean clothes to pick from. "Don't you worry about Tommy, he's gonna get a piece of my, and probably even Pol's mind once I get my hands on him."

Alice sifted through the clothes, letting out an involuntary painful hiss as she moved out of the bed to get dressed.

The damage done to her body was clearer in the morning light illuminating the small room: dark bruises and vicious cuts. She looked even worse than John had realised in the dimness of the night before. He thought about the beautiful white dress she'd confidently galavanted in less than twenty four hours ago; how regal she looked even with a gun in her hand, how angelic she seemed. Now she didn't look much better than the men he'd seen at war.

Alice noticed his bewildered expression as she weakly pulled on a white shirt - the most comfortable from the pile - and found herself racking her brain for some words of comfort. She knew she looked bad and she knew John was worried but there was nothing to be worried about - atleast in her mind - she'd made it out alive, relatively unviolated and the blinders had won the battle.

Why did he care so much about her injuries? His intense gaze paired with the furrowed brows were starting to make her feel ugly.

"Stop looking at me like that, John. I'm fine." Her voice almost sounded angry, it probably would've come out a lot more intensely if she weren't so tired.

"Look at you like what?" He scoffed, watching her pull on a grey pair of trousers with an obvious attempt to keep a straight, unpained face.

"Like you're so... I don't know." She struggled to find the exact words as a pounding headache started to kick in. "Scared, or worried, or maybe even sad? Like I said, I'm fine and there's nothing to dwell on."

John scoffed at her again, louder this time and with more irritation. He looked to the floor with a tut before regaining the previous intense eye contact.

"You shouldn't be fine. You ain't fine! You should be upset, like you were just five minutes ago. But you go numb.. you go empty. It's like you don't even give a shit about yourself.. about what could've happened."

"What. Upset that a man could've forced his dick in me for the millionth fucking time? Or actually, finally killed me? La dee fucking da John! It didn't happen, so it don't matter. And even if it did why would it make a difference at this point? I'm already damaged goods, we both know that. So why do you care?"

The mood had drastically changed from the comfort of each others company to extreme irritation within a couple of seconds. Mood swings were a common part of being around Alice, yet John still found himself occasionally shocked by the intensity of them. Especially in this circumstance.

"Because I fucking love you, Alice! Jesus fucking Christ! What is actually wrong with you?" He raised his voice "You're actually fucked if you really think like that! Why don't you give a single fuck about yourself? Why aren't you angry?" A lash of agony laced his tone, every word she'd spoke landing like a knife into his chest.

"You think I'm not angry?" She scoffed this time, much more venomously than him. "I'm more angry than you could ever fucking know. I was kept prisoner for five years, John. I just learnt to hold it in."

"Well you don't have to hold it in anymore." He was desperate to quell her mood, to bring out her vulnerability again as atleast it meant she was human. But her defences stayed up and her expression mimicked one of a savage tiger, hissing and ready to pounce.

"Oh yes I do. Trust me. If I didn't, I'd never get to leave that hospital. I think you know that. Now let's fucking go and get it over with, Ada doesn't need to come, I can be left alone."

~~~~~

No more words were exchanged between the unofficial couple until they reached the hospital, both stubbornly side eyeing each other during the drive, secretly hoping the other would initiate the talk.

John didn't know what to say and Alice felt embarrassed to speak. Embarrassed that she'd panicked that morning, embarrassed that she'd then been rude and even more embarrassed that she'd even gotten hurt last night - having felt so certain of herself previously. All of these things made her weak - at least in her mind - and so she awkwardly kept her eyes to the ground as she struggled out of the car, holding in a pain filled groan.

Despite her attempts at hiding the breathlessness the forced silence was causing her, the observant man was instantly at her side, offering a hand by holding out his but still saying nothing.

With a defeated sigh, Alice intertwined her fingers with his and looked up into his eyes for a second before averting her gaze back to the floor. His sympathetic gaze could only be withstood for that long before she felt embarrassed again.

"I'm sorry." She sighed with an uncomfortable swallow of pride; not used to feeling so weak.

It surprised John as he was just getting ready to break the silence himself, unable to bear it any longer after a peak at her depressed expression. There was a lot he wanted to say in response, conflicting answers followed by questions, but they were both so tired that he decided against it.

"It's alright." He simply responded, a wooden pick balanced between his teeth. "Let's get this over with."

As they ascended the great stone steps to the lobby, Alice found herself needing to lean into John far more than she wanted to, once again feeling weak and embarrassed, unable to even keep eye contact with the receptionist as John demanded an immediate and private consultation - a big emphasis on those words only added to by the wad of cash gripped in his free hand.

God her cheeks were red by time she was being sat into a wheelchair, watching John whisper something to one of the nurses before they were quite ready to whisk her away. It wasn't hard to guess what he was saying, considering that Ada hadn't been picked up.

"Make sure she's not left alone."

So ashamed she could've cried on the spot and starting to completely disassociate, his face suddenly inches from hers made her jump as it took a second to register. She wasn't used to getting looked at with pity - it was usually the opposite - "or atleast it used to be" was all she could bitterly think.

"I'll go get Ada now." John's tone was still flat, struggling to maintain a calm composure himself. He tried to keep Alice's eyes on his with a deep stare, but once hers hit her lap they were seemingly anchored there; along with the corners of her mouth.

"You told the nurse not to leave me alone, didn't you?" What would usually come out as an intimidating sneer came out in a quiet sigh.

"Can you blame me?" His hand moved to stroke her arm but he stopped himself, swallowing and pausing for a moment before stepping away as he felt his emotions starting to badly brew again.

He didn't want to leave her, not even for an hour, in fact it was the last thing he really wanted to do. But the anger was becoming too much and he needed to let it out before he threw any of it at Alice - even if she was the cause of some.

So with a short, deep breath, he said "I'll see you later" in a tone so empty it shocked Alice for once, a friendly nurse wheeling her away but her words sounding like nothing as the woman's difficult thoughts reached max volume.

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

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Brains

Summary: After finally being accepted into the family for who she is, bookworm Shelby sister faces new challenges after finishing school and they invite her again to be a part of Shelby Company Limited (part 2)

(gif by @thomasshelbyltd) A/N:I remember writing this story, Books, and being so scared to post it, because usually the Shelby sis stories are of her being such a badass and I wanted to try something different. And strangely enough, this became one of my most popular stories. A few of you have requested a part 2, so I’m just going to tag those here: @smcc212 @flysafepapi @clairecrive @playmydrum I’ve been debating how to continue this, but I wanted to keep the focus on John, as well as involving the other brothers. But mainly, I wanted to do justice to the reader character. Let me know what you think of this! Words: 3392 *** Once again, you were sitting at the Shelby kitchen table, doing your homework. Nose buried deep in a few books and hunched over, slowly destroying your back, you were working hard on an essay. This one you were actually extremely proud of: you were comparing six different poems on the war and writing about the emotional effects it had had on the soldiers, even if they did survive the war. Being a Shelby, you knew a lot about it. But, being Y/N, you knew a lot about poetry. So, you were certain this essay was going to be a good one.

“Why do you need five books?” Finn asked. Your twin was sitting next to you, as he often did, and simply watched you work. His question wasn’t a critique or anything like that; he was genuinely curious. Finn Shelby couldn’t read, but he was always intrigued by the fact that you could. “I’m comparing these poems, see?” you showed him, “from three different authors.” “What’s an ‘author’?” “It’s a fancy word for ‘writer’,” you shrugged. He nodded slowly. Aunt Polly entered the kitchen, back from getting the shopping, and with a slight look of disapproval, she gazed at her table, which had absolutely no room left for her groceries. You followed her eyes and immediately apologized. Then you proceeded to collect your books and put them all on the floor. “Thank you,” Aunt Polly said pointedly, but Finn protested with, “How is she supposed to finish her essay now?”

“What’s it to you?” his aunt shot back. “It’s important,” he called out, “She’s doing this whole thing about injured soldiers, like, in the head. And she has five, five, books she’s using, because there’s different auto’s she’s comparing, right?” “Authors,” you whispered, lovingly.

Things had changed ever since that day you came home crying after being bullied and threatened by the boys at your school. At school things were unfortunately still the same, even though those boys never dared touching you again, but you still found yourself alone most of the time and people whispered hurtful things behind your back. At times, it got to you, but now your siblings treated you very differently. John had become very much aware of how his words and jokes affected you, and he’d bettered his ways, as well as warning the others. Now they all tried to take an interest in your studies, even if they didn’t understand it. Finn, your darling twin, tried the hardest, but he’d always been there for you. “Authors,” Finn repeated, and continued, “It’s really important that she finishes this on time, because she’s top of her class, Aunt Pol, didn’t she tell you? And it’s her last year at school, so she wants to make the most of it, isn’t that right, Y/N?” You nodded solemnly. His praise made you feel warm inside, but he was right: you were fourteen now and this would be your last year at school. The lessons weren’t much of a challenge anyway and you often asked for extra work simply to fight the boredom, but still you enjoyed learning immensely. And you had no idea what you would do with yourself once your time at school would be up.

Your Aunt Polly seemed to notice the frown on your face and decided to soften a little. She often didn’t know what to do with you, it was like you and her were complete opposites at times, but she still cared deeply. So, she said, “Go and ask Thomas, Y/N, he’ll let you work in his office.”

With a sigh, you picked up your things from the floor again. Immediately, Finn sprang to your aid and took a few books in his arms. But when Polly was busy again, you whispered, “No, take them upstairs. I’ll work there. I don’t want to bother Tommy now.”

And so you continued your essay, sat on the floor with books all around you, in the cold bedroom you shared with Finn. *** After a few more hours, you had finally finished writing up your final version, the one you were going to hand in. Stretching, you stood up and you shivered. It really was cold in the small room, practically dark now too, and your limbs were protesting against their maltreatment. “Y/N?” John put his head around the door, “Finn told me you were working on an essay. Something about poetry or books, or something. Did you finish it?” He really was trying these days. You held up the paper in a proud manner. But John said, “Fucking hell, girl, have you been sitting here all afternoon? It’s bloody freezing in here!” “I suppose it is a little cold,” you agreed, as you pulled your jumper, well actually Arthur’s old jumper, closer around you. One of your hands touched your arm and you felt like a clump of ice burned you for a second. John frowned and walked into the room. Then he crouched down next to the fireplace and quickly got to lighting the fire. You tried to protest with, “There’s really no need, john…” But he didn’t listen. Instead he said, “Remember that castle I promised you, the one with the library and the staircases? I’ll make sure that library has a fireplace, where a fire is always burning.” “Thank you, John,” you smiled. “What are you sitting on the floor for?” You shrugged, “Polly needed the kitchen table and I needed to finish my essay.”

“On the floor?” he asked incredulously, “I’m not having that. Come with me, you!” You followed him out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Once downstairs, he grabbed your hand and sort of dragged you with him in his excitement. Together, only slightly against your will, you entered Arthur’s office at the betting shop, where John announced, “Y/N needs your desk.” “What? Why?” Arthur had questions written all over his face. Not really knowing what to do, you held up the essay again and waved it around a bit for effect. “Is that the essay Finn told me about?” he asked, also obviously trying very hard, “Let me see then.” And when you handed it over, like the proud brother he praised, “Look at that. That’s a lot of words, that is. Probably the right ones too. Well done, sister!”

“Get up, Arthur,” John demanded, as he started taking papers from his brother’s desk already. But when he went in to grab the bottle of rum to put it on the cabinet, you joked, “No leave that, I might need it.” Two pairs of big eyes stared at you, because even though they all did, you didn’t drink, and you quickly mumbled, “It’s a joke, don’t worry.” Okay no more jokes, you thought to yourself; too confusing for them.

As Arthur protested, John started lugging his desk out of the office, but eventually your eldest brother yielded and helped him carry it through the betting den and up the stairs, passed Aunt Polly, who obviously had so many questions. Arthur explained, “She has essays to write, Pol. Long ones.” Sheepishly you followed them and Aunt Polly asked you, “I thought school was almost done? This is your last month. Why do you need a desk now?” A little shy, you replied, “Not sure…” She smiled comfortingly at that, “We’ll find you something else to do, love.” But you weren’t at all sure of that. The sight of everyday boredom hung over you like impending doom. Once upstairs again, Arthur went back to work, but John stayed behind. It was like he was searching your face for clues as to what was really going on. Then he asked, “Are you not sure about your essay?” “No, I am,” you replied quickly, “I guess I’m just a little sad there’s only a few left to write. I’d like to do…more. You know, before my time’s up?” “I hated school…” he mused, “Glad to be free of it.”

“But I don’t…” And again you felt so very different from the other Shelby’s. John’s face suddenly lit up with an idea and he took your hand and guided you back down the stairs again. Polly called out, “Now what?” but no one really answered her. Your brother took you to his office and slowly opened the books, “I think I’ve made some errors in here along the way. I was wondering if you could help me?” “I appreciate the gesture, John…” you started. But he interrupted you, “It’s no gesture and I’m not just trying to give you something to do: I’m really struggling with this. I’m good at keeping the books and setting the odds, and my adding up is a vast improvement from bloody Arthur’s, but there’s things in here I can’t quite work out. Here, you see?” he pointed, “These numbers don’t add up and I can’t work out why.” Against your intentions, you now squinted over the book with him. After a few moments, you’d worked it out, “This is the one from Kempton, right? And next to it is the Derby, but the same horse ran in both, which should have an effect on the odds, but it didn’t. Also, you’ve mixed up your active and passive funds here, you should probably have different columns for them, so you’ll know our actual winnings, not the entire sum.” “See!” he called out proudly, “You’re good at this! You’re the smart one after all.” “You’re smart too, John, I know you are,” you protested. Looking at the books again, you noticed, “What’s this? Why are these the odds for Oxford’s Pastor? I thought that race was fixed.”

“It was, I think? I can’t remember…” he mumbled. “You should talk to Tommy about that, because if it is, the odds are wrong, and it means we’ve invested money into the jockey. Also, it says here a sum went to the widow from Garrison Courts, the one who lost her son to the explosion, but this shouldn’t be here, because there’s a different fund for that. Your numbers won’t add up and I’m guessing Polly already noticed.” John grinned a little, slightly embarrassed but mostly impressed by his little sister, “I thought you didn’t care for Shelby business.” You nodded, “I don’t. I don’t agree with what you do most of the time, but I still listen when all of you speak.” “So what do I do?” he asked. “Talk to Tommy and make sure his business and books match yours, make sure Aunt Polly checks these figures against the safe and you need to redo this month at least because these columns…” you looked up and saw puzzlement written all over your brother’s face, “Never mind, I’ll do it. You just talk to Tommy.” Eagerly, John left you the books and practically bounced out of the office. His plan had worked.

*** It had taken you about a week to sort the books out and in that week, you’d learned a lot about races and betting. There was a lot to consider, especially now that they had a legal racing pitch, as well as all the illegal betting taking place. And then there was the Garrison, your ownership designed to launder the money, but it was more important than ever that the books were kept neatly, otherwise it wouldn’t work.

Strangely enough, you enjoyed the work. At school, you’d always been more of a language student. Of course, the maths weren’t a real challenge, but you felt passionate about literature and poetry. But this, this wasn’t just a dry job for you to do; it felt like a puzzle that you had to solve. Finally, a challenge had presented itself again. “Y/N?” Tommy came into John’s office one day while you were working, “Come with me. Take those books.” Obeying at once, you picked up the heavy ledgers and followed him into his office. On the table, he had his paperwork laid out for you and you understood at once he wanted you to compare the books to each other. Evidently, John had told him about the discrepancies.

“You want me to fix these too?” you asked your brother. “If you can,” he commented, “My books are in order, I’m sure of it, but they need to match the others.” You looked at them and noticed Tommy’s were indeed a bit more neat. You told him, as gently as you could, “It would really help, Tommy, if you didn’t just plan everything in your head. I mean, if you talked to us about it and told John which races were fixed and what strategies you were planning next. If not for his sake, but just to keep the whole business in order.” He smirked, “Whatever happened to not getting involved, eh?” You looked at him, but didn’t reply. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get involved in the family business or wanted to distance yourself further from them; it was that you weren’t comfortable with what they did. You appreciated all they’d created for this family and you certainly didn’t take the moral high ground. You yourself just didn’t want part in the illegal business. Tommy noticed your hesitation and decided not to push the subject. So instead he said, “John tells me you’re leaving school soon.” You nodded sadly at his statement. He continued, “What is it you would like to do?” You thought about it for a long time and finally decided, “Not be a girl?” Because that really was the problem here. The kids of Small Heath weren’t offered many chances, but sometimes, some really clever boys did move on to get an apprenticeship somewhere, like a newspaper or a firm. You’d even heard of some getting tutors and going off to university. But not girls. Your brother frowned, “I’m not alright with you not having the same chances as any boy. If you want to continue studying, I’ll find a way.” Smiling shyly, you said, “I appreciate it, Tommy, I really do, but there’s no point. Small Heath school doesn’t prepare me in the slightest for any further education and there’s nowhere I could go, even if I wanted to.” “You want to go to Oxford?” he asked straight up. You blinked, not having realised he’d picked up on your long-lasting dream of studying in some other city, let alone somewhere as prestigious as Oxford. “I’ve heard that two years ago, they started admitting female students over there.” “They’ve admitted them before, Tommy,” you corrected him, “Only last year they were able to get a degree.” You’d followed the papers with interest on the subject, silently daydreaming about being a part of that group of young women, walking the halls of that old, old place of learning. “What’s fucking point in going there if you don’t get a degree?” he half-joked, “How about I make some inquiries, eh? Maybe someone I know has a way in. You’d want to study English Literature, right? I’ll get you in. And if you need a tutor or some other fucking school to get you ready, I’ll make sure that happens, eh? If that’s what you want, I’ll make it happen.” Without speaking a word, you hugged your brother around his waist. Still, you weren’t certain he could manage it, but the fact that he knew what you wanted and was willing to try and make it happen, meant the world to you. Then you realised, “John put you up to this, didn’t he?” “He may have mentioned it.” You smiled, but continued the hug a little longer. After a while, you broke free and immediately turned into your practical self again, putting the different financial books side by side, “This will take me a while, but I can do it. Is it alright if I work in here?” Tommy lit a cigarette and nodded at his sensible sister, “Yes. You could have your own office, you know, if you take on the position permanently.” Politely, you smiled, but still holding your ground, “No, Tommy. I don’t want to be part of the illegal business.” *** Against all hope, Tommy had indeed found you two tutors. You’d finished school with top marks and even the side-eyes from all of the other girls couldn’t bring you down. Also, your family cheering loudly from the front row helped a lot. And then a different, very exciting, new chapter of your life started. Every Wednesday and Thursday, you had lessons at your teachers’ houses and the other days, you were expected to do a lot of work on your own. You loved every second of it.

Arthur’s desk really came in handy now. All your books were perched on the sides and one look from John and he’d decided on building you a bookcase: ‘the start of your own library’, he’d said. And then one evening, late at night, when you were still working, he came in and asked you to come with him. “Tommy’s changing things,” he explained as you followed him, “and he needs the brains of the family to do it.” You had no idea who he was talking about and it took you a while to realise he might mean you. This filled you with some dread, because you still had no intention of joining the family business. Downstairs, you saw the family gathered around the table. A family meeting was obviously in full swing and apparently, they wanted you to join them for the first time. Tommy announced, “Welcome, Y/N. Why don’t you take a seat?” All eyes were on you, which you didn’t like, so you politely declined and prayed to God this wouldn’t take long. The head of the family continued, “As I mentioned before, Shelby Company Limited is now in the position to make a lot of money, both here and in London, and I plan on making the bulk of our money legally from now on,” Tommy looked directly at you as he spoke, “Someone in this family, the first Shelby to go to university probably, has changed my mind.” “Minor fucking miracle,” Aunt Polly mumbled, not without pride. “Now, Y/N,” Tommy pointed at you, “If I’m going to do this, I need your help. You’ve gotten the books in order for us and I know you’re busy with your studies, but I need an advisor. Now, I know you don’t agree with the business as it is, which is why I want to change things. I need you to do the legal books, John will do the others, but in six months’ time, I want most of what we do to be legal. Can you help me with that?” You sighed and thought about it long and hard. On the one hand, you were still firmly behind your decision not to get involved. Also, you had other things on your mind, such as your studies and your new ambition to get into Oxford. But you loved your brothers dearly and you wanted to support them where you could. And now, evidently, Tommy wanted to get away from the cut-throat gangster life. Loyalties torn, you decided to help them become good, as you’d always known they could be. So, you said, softly, “Alright.” A loud cheering erupted at the table. Feeling yourself getting red, you looked down, but John quickly came up to you, arms outstretched in a proud manner. And you realised you never would have been here, still studying and this close with your family against all odds, if it wasn’t for him. “Welcome to the business,” he said, “the new business.” *** Masterlist

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

Text

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

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