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#peaky blinders
mushroomseb · 3 days
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PEAKY BLINDERS 3.04
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roseheartsbiko · 3 days
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my man.
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garrison-girl-08 · 2 days
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Love, Honour, Disobey
Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader
Part 5- (More Here)
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Feeling your body freeze, you glanced between him and Tommy. How did he even get in here? Why had Tommy's men let him in? It was meant to be a secure hospital. No visitors, outside of Tommy's circle.
Turning to face you both, he chuckled darkly. Eyes fixed on your frame, grazing over your curves.
"My, my, the united couple, what a sight to behold," closing the distance between you both. He leant in and kissed your cheek, your skin crawling as he did.
“Mrs Shelby, as ravishing as ever," Ravishing?? You had just been fucked in the bathroom. And no doubt smelt of sex.
Taking your chin, he tilted your face from once side to the other. "Sometimes Shelby, women need putting back in their place. Would you not agree?" His voice rose an octave.
Your mouth was dry, voice stuck in the back of your throat. Oh ...how you would love to take Tommy's hat and cut him. He probably wouldn't even bleed, he was pure evil.
You were convinced.
In a swift movement, Tommy grabbed Mosely by the throat. Pinning him against the wall, his face centimetres away from Mosley.
"Keep your hands off my wife, don't look at her, don't talk to her, don't even fucking think abut her, you hear me, ey?"
"Touched a nerve, have I?" he smirked, eyes still trained on you.
“She's hard not to think about, those long lonely nights. Whilst you are tucked away in this mental hospital. Don’t worry, old chap I will pay her a visit,”
Pulling his fist back, Tommy hit Mosely full on in his face. His head bashing off the wall behind him.
“Tommy!” You screamed, shocked at his actions.
No doubt Mosley could get him arrested, with the click of a finger. As the Blinders sprang into action, it took three men to pull Tommy away.
“Tut, tut,” Mosley smirked, “Lowering yourself to violence again, Shelby. Need to work on that temper of yours,”
Taking his handkerchief from his suit pocket. Mosley dabbed his nose, “See you soon, Y/n,” he winked, his expensive shoes clicking along the corridor.
In the wake of Mosley’s visit, Tommy seemed to spiral again. Promptly discharging himself, against your wishes. He was determined to go home. Not wanting any of his associates to see him here.
He was becoming increasingly paranoid. Feeding into Mosley's theory about visiting you. Imagining him pulling up your nightie, and taking you hard. In your marital bed.
No, he had to be there. To protect you. To protect his family. Anyway he was better now, he could do without the Opium.
That’s what he had convinced himself….
“Daddy!” Your three year old Bella squealed, from her position on the floor. Sat playing with her wooden dolls house, role playing. Making cups of tea for the characters. She had such a vivid imagination.
Dropping the toys, she ran towards her father. As he bent down, you could see the emotions building in your husband.
“Come ‘ere you, I’ve missed you, Bella,”
“Me missed you, Daddy,” she clung on to his neck, while he stood with her. Walking towards Sadie, who was sat with Frances.
“Let’s say hello to Sadie, hey,” Tommy suggested, trying to put Bella down. Who blankly refused.
“Come see Dada,” Tommy tried, still holding Bella. But Sadie hid against Frances, squirming on her knee.
Hurt flashed across Tommy’s face, as you stepped in and scooped Sadie up. It was just her age, she was very attached to you. And Tommy hadn’t been around much lately.
“Where’s Thomas?” You asked Frances, hoping he wasn’t still sulking in his bedroom.
“Young Thomas is in the stables, with Uncle Charlie. Welcome home, Mr Shelby,” she greeted, looking between you both. She hadn’t been expecting Tommy, to be discharged.
Not so soon. No doubt, there was still a long road ahead for him.
"I will go and find Thomas," Tommy announced, encouraging Bella to jump down.
After a quiet family dinner, you had opted for an early night. Not that you slept, you spent the night watching Tommy. Expecting him to jump up and go looking for his stash.
Slowly letting your eyes close, you heard him mumbling. Incoherent speech, his head moving side to side.
"Never wake him up," Arthur had warned you, you had witnessed enough of Tommy's nightmares over the years. You knew it was best to leave him. Was it about France?
Pulling yourself up, you gently stroked his hand. Trying to offer comfort. When he suddenly sat bolt upright, he gripped your leg. Flailing around to grab hold of something.
“Noo," he yelled out, taking a deep inhale. Eyes shooting open, hurriedly observing the room. As if expecting someone to be there.
"Tommy, your safe," you gently soothed, placing your hand on top of his.
"Yeah, safe, it's safe," he mumbled, laying back down.
The next morning, you found your bed empty. But the pitter patter of tiny feet, could be heard in the hallway. Along with childish giggles.
"Me Daddy, me," you heard Bella plead, your son's laughter drowning out her words.
Tiptoeing from the bed in just your nightgown, you opened the door. There was Tommy, with your son and eldest daughter. Letting them climb on his back, whilst he pretended to be a horse.
Smiling to yourself, you watched the scene unfold.
"You have had a turn," young Thomas told his sister, sticking out his tongue. Holding onto his fathers shoulders. Tommy was smiling up at you, a proper smile, looking relaxed.
"Let's not argue, ey. Let your old man up, so I can kiss your mother good morning," Tommy's eyes never left yours, a deep hunger burning there.
"Urgh kissing," Thomas groaned, chasing Bella along the corridor.
Tommy's lips met yours, strong hands holding you in place. Fingers gently running across your spine, goose bumps spreading across your skin.
"Get back in that bed, Mrs Shelby," he mumbled against your lips. Wearing just his underwear and a vest.
"Tommy," you chuckled, while his lips travelled along to your neck. "The children..."
"Are fine," he answered, picking you up. "Sadie is with Frances, now get on that bed, so I can make you scream my name," he had mischief in his eyes.
"Yes sir," you answered, letting him take you.
The day passed slowly, Tommy had been in his office for the majority of the afternoon. Catching up on work, but you had convinced him to take a walk with you all. Get some fresh air.
Strolling along together, you watched your other children race ahead. Whilst Tommy pushed the pram, Sadie babbling to him.
"Where's your smiles, ey? Show Daddy your smiles?" he asked her, tickling her chubby cheeks.
Glancing across at him, you noticed his eyes were twinkling with happiness. Shoulders relaxed, genuinely smiling as he waved back at Bella, who was picking flowers. But, you knew better than anyone how good he was at masking his issues.
"I enjoyed my lay in this morning," you grinned across at him.
Teeth biting against your bottom lip. Linking your arm through his, while he steered the pram around to head back up to the house. It was beginning to rain, and the children would be getting hungry.
"Oh yeah? Well an early night could also be arranged, eh?" he winked, "Slow down Thomas, wait for us," he called, across the vast lawn.
"Taking advantage of me again?" you teased, leaning towards him.
Your heads tilting at the same time, eyes meeting, your lips were so close.
Slightly edging towards each other, ready to kiss.....
When an almighty explosion was heard. Followed by ear piercing screams, coming from your children. Shoving the pram towards you, Tommy raced off towards the house.
"Thomas! Bella! Come 'ere now," he called, racing across the grass to catch them.
Swiftly scooping them up in his arms, he ran back towards you. Following his gaze, you looked up at the house. Figuring out where the noise had come from. Tommy's car which was parked directly outside, was now engulfed in a ball of flames.
Anyone could have been stood next to the car, Tommy could have been driving the car!
There was surely only one person who would have done this....
Mosley.....
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luluartpop · 2 days
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He's a fucking handsome man!!!!🛐
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mcumorningstar · 2 days
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A Rose By Any Other Name || Part I
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series pairing: tommy shelby x reader, hints of john shelby x reader, hints of tommy x lizzie
summary: Resigned to a life as a whore, the infamous Shelby brothers find you in a compromising position and you apprehensively accept their protection. (Set in s2).
warnings: 18+ minor’s dni, prostitution, 1920s attitudes toward women and prostitution (physical and verbal aggression), unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, typical peaky blinders content
author’s note: I was bored and it’s missing Tommy Shelby hours (he’s so fit I can’t cope). This is kinda short but I’m hoping to make it a series. Also this is the first fic so if anyone reads please be nice :)
Work was a little more bearable if they fucked you from behind.
That way you could imagine the man rutting into you was a handsome actor like Tom Mix or Rudolph Valentine, or even a dashing soldier in his uniform, and not some brutish married factory foreman after too many drinks in The Garrison.
“Mhm fuck,” The nameless man grunted, pulling out and painting splatters of his cum on the backs of your thighs. Whiskey-laced breaths evened out against your skin and his grip on your neck loosened.
You didn’t look at him as the pair of you redressed, only thinking about the money now in your purse. From his clothes, you could deduce that he worked in the BSA factory but he was too clean to work on the factory floor. It was more than you usually knew about your clients and, when he opened his mouth to speak, you winced.
“Does Harry know you’re whoring behind his pub?” The man laughed, slurring his words and pulling his suspenders over his shoulders.
Ignoring him, you fixed your dress and tidied your hair. The brute wrapped his meaty fingers around your jaw and pulled you into him. He was probably quite handsome in his youth.
“Too high and mighty to open your fucking mouth?” He goaded, squashing your cheeks between his calloused fingers, “How much for your mouth?”
Noise from the pub spilled out into the streets, raucous men wasting their wages on cheap liquor. Any plea for help would be futile. Even if they could hear you, a whore caught behind the pub with a man was hardly worth a second look.
“You’re hurting me,” A weak croak escaped your rouge-smudged lips. It was a gift from one of your regulars but maybe wearing it at the local pub was a mistake.
“On the house?” He sneered, yellow teeth and thinning hair visible in the dark of the alley. With an iron grip, he pushed you to your knees, the thick mud and jagged stones cutting into your skin.
Aggressive clients were an unfortunate commonality but, whenever it happened, it was as frightening as the first time.
The scratch of a match drew you from your panicked stupor, crowded against the grimy brick wall.
Light from The Garrison illuminated the alleyway as the backdoor opened and slammed shut, casting the alley into darkness again. Your breath caught in your chest, your fate no longer in your own hands as you silently pleaded for the stranger's presence to startle the man.
A shadow appeared on the wall from the man’s lit cigarette. A Peaky Blinder. Shit.
The man above you stepped back, his eyes on the man’s shadow as it tripled. His jaw tightened before he dragged you to your feet. The commotion caught the three brothers’ attention, their hushed conversation halting.
Thomas Shelby’s scrutinising gaze fixed on you until the man excused himself and hurried out of the alley onto Garrison Lane.
John and Arthur Shelby chuckled, nudging one another and failing to hide their smirks. Whiskey dripped from Arthur's moustache and John's tooth pick hung from the corner of his mouth.
With flushed cheeks, you brushed the tiny and blood-smeared stones from your knees and righted your skirt.
Deep blue eyes didn’t falter, pinning you to the spot.
“Is Lizzie still inside?” You asked meekly, attempting and failing to meet Thomas Shelby’s eyes.
Thick fingers ran his cigarette across his pink lips, taking another drag as his gaze assessed you. Fighting the urge to touch your hair or tug your lip between your teeth, his eyes finally broke away from you and it seemed his assessment of the situation was complete.
You were aware of one another, only by association. Lizzie was now Thomas’ secretary and she dragged you to The Garrison whenever she could. The Shelby brothers acknowledged your presence, as Lizzie’s friend, and they will look out for you as a favour to her.
Arthur broke the silence, his gruff voice full of cheek, “Yeah, talking to a BSA worker. Your fella outranks hers. Does that mean you can charge more?”
For men who frequently pay for whores, they were at ease to laugh at your expense.
It was the middle brother who spared you, snatching the whiskey from the eldest and offering you a swig. Against your better judgment, you took the bottle and swallowed a mouthful or two.
“Don’t worry, his cock went nowhere near my mouth,” You spat with no real bite behind it, “Didn’t want to take the piss with his shallow pockets.”
John and Arthur stood in stunned silence, their cheeks reddening and their eyes averting away from you. A wiser woman may have kept her mouth shut but you were banking on Lizzie to save you from any potential consequences. And you were humiliated, what else did you have to lose?
Thomas took a drink from the bottle before handing it back to his older brother. His deep Brummie lilt travelled through the silence, “We’ll drive you home.”
Without waiting for a response, he headed onto Garrison Lane and the brothers looked at one another, dumbfounded. You weren’t in the business of saying ‘no’ to a Blinder, especially not the Blinder, and especially not after your spiteful words. With shaky legs and sweaty palms, you followed the brothers.
A brand new Bentley was parked in front of The Garrison. Thomas held the passenger door open, finishing his cigarette. Arthur and John wrestled until Arthur manhandled his younger brother into the backseats, releasing his neck from a firm headlock.
Stepping back, Arthur motioned you towards the backseat but Thomas cleared his throat. The two brothers shared a moment of unspoken disagreement.
“I’ll sit in the back. I don’t mind,” You said as if your voice wasn’t yours. Three gangsters within arms reach was more than enough to set your nerves on edge.
“It’s alright, sweetheart. Just a chair,” Arthur grumbled with a soft and crooked smile, as he clambered into the back with a more than delighted John. Smiling politely, you took the passenger seat.
This was your first time in an automobile. Thomas started the engine and glanced over when you crossed your legs, unsure how to sit lady-like in the confined space.
Your skirt rode up as you got comfortable and your grazed knee was exposed. Thomas kept his eyes on the road as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket, handing over a white hanker-chief with a small embroidered T.S in the bottom corner.
Opening your mouth to protest, Thomas cleared his throat and focused on the drive. A silent order to accept the offer. Carefully you dabbed at the small trickles of blood, staining the white fabric, until all that was left was raw, grazed skin.
Thankfully, the drive to your lodgings wasn’t quiet; in fact John and Arthur talked your ear off as they passed the bottle of whiskey between them. You didn’t have much to say, mortified by the situation they found you in and frankly a little terrified to be in a car with the Shelby brothers in the first place.
Thomas was quiet. Lizzie said he’s been like that since he got back from France, but his silence was unnerving as you sailed through the streets of Small Heath.
“You live with Lizzie?” John asked as the car pulled in outside your lodgings and the engine cut. Clumsy hands gripped the back of your seat as he leaned over the front seats to smile at you.
Lizzie said John was a good boy, the best of a bad bunch. Nevertheless, blood rushed in your ears and your fisted the material of your dress at his proximity and hot whiskey breath.
Thomas sighed and lit a cigarette, surprising you when he got out of the car. Plumes of smoke followed him as he rounded the car and opened your car door.
“Yes, I- There’s three of us,” You answered, your scuffed brown heels stepping onto the uneven cobblestones.
“Three whores living together? Sounds like the start of a joke,” John laughed, his tooth pick long gone, and you were pleasantly surprised by the lack of insult in his voice.
“Or a very nice dream,” Arthur chuckled along too, his deep voice at full volume making you jump. With his brother distracted by you and the bottle, John scrambled into the front seat.
Arthur's swift smack to the back of John’s head echoed in the quiet of the street. A small smirk twitched at Thomas' lips but you averted your eyes before he noticed you watching.
"Lizzie is a secretary now, John," You played along, most comfortable with the younger brother. John's shining eyes were glued to you as you searched for your door key.
Arthur scoffed and mumbled against the lip of the bottle, "Yeah, Tommy's secretary." Nobody acknowledged the insinuation that hung in the air.
Opening your front door, you turned to the three men, slightly less afraid than you once were, "Thank you for driving me home. Goodnight."
"Night love," John and Arthur responded; Arthur's deep grumble and John's cheery lilt. They turned their attention back to the whiskey, fighting over it like children.
Before you shut the door, Thomas stepped closer to you, exhaling smoke through his nose. Did he want to come in? Payment for the lift home? Or, payment for the lift home? Whatever it was, your stomach felt like you swallowed a tonne of lead.
"Is everything okay, Mr Shelby?" Your voice carried between you, like a dainty flower ready to wilt.
"Tell Lizzie," He began, his cigarette hanging from his lips as he reached into his pocket, "That she's to come to work early tomorrow."
Folded paper money appeared from his pocket and suddenly the wad of cash was in your palm.
"Is- Is this for Lizzie?" You stuttered, blushing like a maiden at your suggestion. There was something heart-stopping about being the subject of Thomas Shelby's arresting gaze.
Thomas raised an eyebrow at you, taking his cigarette between his fingers and looking you up and down. Shit, was that the wrong thing to say? The Peaky Blinders never harmed women but that wasn't a comfort as you stood in front of him.
"Come on Tommy! It's fucking freezing!" Arthur yelled from the car. Thomas ignored him and threw his cigarette to the pavement.
"It's yours,” He said as if it was obvious, “Whores working behind The Garrison is bad for business."
That bastard! Lizzie told you all about her sessions with Thomas Shelby. Prostitution is only acceptable when he's doing the fucking?
"I'm not a charity nor a bookie you can bribe Mr Shelby," You pressed the money to his chest, "Save your white knight persuasion for Lizzie. Goodnight."
The sound of John and Arthur's laughter disappeared behind the wooden door, as you slammed it in Thomas' face. Muffled conversation between the brothers carried into the house, relieving you once the car drove away.
You had only been in your bedroom for a moment before gentle footsteps hurried across the landing.
"Is everything okay? I saw the Bentley parked outside," Thelma's brows were furrowed and she pulled her robe taunt against her body, peering into your bedroom.
"Yes," You nodded, slightly out of breath from your racing heart, "The Shelby brothers drove me home."
Thelma's jaw dropped, "With- Is Lizzie with you?"
Shaking your head, you draped your bag over the railing of your bed frame and unpinned your hair in front of the mirror.
"They said she was flirting with a BSA man. Caught me on my knees behind The Garrison," You flushed, failing to keep a straight face. Thelma burst into a fit of giggles.
Through the mirror, you saw her covering her mouth with her hand to stifle her amusement. You turned to face her, giggling at the ridiculousness of it.
"I'm sorry I don't mean to laugh," She sat at the bottom of your bed, as you unlaced your dress.
Living with other women was a comfortable situation but living with other whores was even more so. Who else would you go to for a second opinion if you thought you had the clap?
Your dress fell to the floor in a ripple of fabric and your heels were kicked off, "No it is funny. John is sweet. Arthur was drunk and loud.."
"..and Thomas?" Thelma goaded with a teasing grin.
"I slammed the door in his face," You winced and Thelma gasped," Do you think Lizzie will be mad at me? I couldn't help myself."
As much as Lizzie protested, it was glaringly obvious that she was in love with Thomas Shelby. When he started meeting with her on a regular basis, her heavy pockets and orgasmic bliss clouded her judgement. It would be hard for any of you to not fall in love with a client who makes you cum. Now she was his secretary but nobody was disillusioned by that title and, after a few drinks, she giddily confirmed that he bent her over his desk semi-regularly.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think that he loved her too but a man like Thomas Shelby was not bound by such silly notions.
Thelma giggled with a warm smile, "The sun shines out of his cock as far as she's concerned, but she’ll get over it.”
Giggling along, you hoped that Lizzie would be a few drinks in and find the whole ordeal hilarious...
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rysko · 20 hours
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This, but as Peaky Blinders
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did this instead of going to sleep, bon apetit
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dinums · 2 days
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The Unexpected Visit
Thomas Shelby x Reader.
Summary: A Filipina woman accidentally travelled back in time. There, she began to work for the Shelbys
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"Hurry up! We're going to be late for your birthday celebration!" My best friend, Ava, shouted down the hall, prompting me to respond in the same hurried tone.
"Alright! Just give me a moment!"
I looked at myself in the mirror, feeling a sense of satisfaction as I admired my appearance. I was wearing a stylish black and white dress that fell just below my knees, with a white bow tie adorning my hair. My makeup was flawlessly done, accentuating my features.
"Shit, ang ganda ko," I murmured to myself. After securing a job as an animator and starting a new life in the United States, I was finally able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. This was where I would find happiness. Despite missing my home country, the Philippines, the familiar places there held too many painful memories that I preferred to leave behind.
Everything was supposed to go smoothly, until it didn't. From the far corner of my room, I caught a glimpse of someone—a dark figure—watching me. A chill ran down my spine, and my body instinctively went into fight-or-flight mode. Without a second thought, I fled from my room, convinced that the figure was pursuing me. It emitted a sinister laugh, filling the air with an eerie presence. Was this what my mother had warned me about?
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"Puta... tangina, tangina! Ava, where's Ava?" These thoughts raced through (Y/N)'s mind as she ran, desperately searching for her friend while panic consumed her. As she neared the stairs, she could swear that the figure was still chasing her. In her haste, she stumbled and began to fall, but just as she was about to hit the ground, a blinding light engulfed everything.
---
On a quiet evening in the streets of Watery Lane, Birmingham, Thomas Shelby lay in his bed, lost in thought, cigarette in hand. Suddenly, the drawers started opening, and the air seemed to thin. The entire house shook, as if an earthquake were rocking the foundations. Thomas swiftly grabbed his gun, prepared to confront any potential enemy lurking in the darkness of the night. It felt as if the very earth were tearing apart at the seams. He was about to call for his family when a brilliant flash of white light blinded him, causing him to shield his eyes and turn away.
A loud crash followed, accompanied by the sound of a woman's voice. Thomas, now disoriented, cautiously approached the source of the disturbance, gun still aimed at the woman who had appeared in his home. She seemed panicked, her eyes darting around as she struggled to get to her feet, wincing in pain. It appeared that she had injured her leg, possibly a sprain, which forced her to remain seated on the floor.
Their eyes met, and the woman's breath seemed to catch in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the gun pointed at her. With trembling hands raised in self-defense, she stammered, "Who the hell are you, eh?" Thomas questioned her, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. This woman was unlike any he had encountered before.
"M-me? (Y/N), my name... (Y/N). Please, can you... I don't... the..." Her words faltered as Thomas took a step closer, the gun still pointed at her. Overwhelmed, she broke down, crouching on the floor, averting her gaze. If she were to die, she would rather not see it coming.
As the door opened, she looked up and saw a woman and two other men entering. When her eyes met theirs and then returned to Thomas, the woman spoke up, moving to disarm him.
---
"Jesus, Tom! What are you doing to this poor lady?!" I heard the woman exclaim after the gun was taken away from him. I let out a sigh of relief. Tom, as the man was called, pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated. The two other men seemed to be stifling their laughter, although it was difficult to discern as everything started to blur, as if the room were spinning.
When I regained consciousness, I found myself in bed, still in the same room as before—at least from what I could remember. As I surveyed my surroundings, I realized I was still wearing the dress, although the bows in my hair were gone. When I attempted to get up, the door opened, revealing the woman from earlier. In her right hand, she carried a tray with tea.
"Don't. You'll hurt yourself," she cautioned, pointing at my ankle. I nodded, and asked, "Can you tell me where I am...? Can I go home? Please..."
"You're in Small Heath. Thomas said you appeared out of thin air. How did that happen?" she responded.
"And what year is it?"
"1919."
Small Heath, in 1919? That was far away from home, possibly evenin a different era altogether. It seemed impossible for me to have traveled there in the blink of an eye, let alone through time itself. Sensing my confusion, the woman tried to reassure me. She set the tray of tea on the bedside table and introduced herself as Polly Gray. I nodded in acknowledgment and placed the cup of tea on my lap.
"You're not from around here, are you?" Polly asked, her gaze lingering on the tea leaves in my cup.
"No, I'm not," I replied. She clicked her tongue, taking the cup from me and placing it back on the tray.
"Are you a Gypsy?" she inquired.
"No, I'm not," I repeated. I was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that Polly might be able to help me find my way back home. However, instead of directly answering my question, she posed one of her own.
"Can you read? Are you good with numbers?"
"I can read and do math. Why?"
"If you're going to stay here, you might as well work for us," Polly suggested, her tone implying that she had more to say on the matter.
"Why do you want to help me?" I asked but only got silence in return. The unexpected turn of events had left me bewildered, but I knew I had to gather my wits and adapt to this new reality. Working for Polly and her associates seemed like the only option available to me at the moment. Maybe, just maybe, they could provide me with the answers I sought and help me find a way back home.
"I'll work for you"
"Good."
////
It had been precisely one month and four days since I had become a part of the Shelby family. Despite initial reservations and a sense of distrust, Polly graciously took me under her wing. The other members of the family had an unspoken understanding not to pry into certain events that were yet to happen in their lives, acknowledging that I possessed knowledge of the future. However, that didn't stop some of them, particularly Finn, from asking what it was like. It was a joy to share stories with the young boy, and I was grateful that they kept my arrival in Small Heath a secret, creating a story on how I got up here, to not make the townsfolk ask questions, but then again who would ask the Shelby family questions?
In the present moment, I found myself inside the bustling betting shop, surrounded by a lively crowd. My responsibilities included tallying numbers, verifying receipts, and handling money and the transactions that came with it. The work was demanding, but it provided me with a sense of purpose, a distraction.
Across the room, John stood by the blackboard, inscribing odds while announcing them loudly for all to hear. Meanwhile, Arthur and Thomas had stepped out for a while, leaving Polly and me to manage the shop, with Ada looking after Finn.
"Mas maganda siguro kung animator nalang ako... or if I had a calculator here," I mused to myself, finishing up the last part of my work and giggling at the thought.
"A calculator? What's that?" I heard John's familiar voice as he approached me, a toothpick dangling from his mouth.
"It's- er, a device that helps you with calculations—counting, subtracting, multiplying, and even dividing numbers," I explained.
"Even the big ones?" John asked, curiosity evident in his eyes.
"Even the big ones," I confirmed, a hint of amusement in my voice.
Our conversation was abruptly interrupted when a bloodied Arthur burst into the shop, sending panic through the air. Everyone was ordered to leave, and Polly swiftly took charge, guiding Arthur to the house connected to the betting shop. Ada and John exchanged concerned glances, and I hurriedly joined them, mindful of my sprained ankle. I grabbed a clean cloth to help with Arthur's wounds, while Ada rushed to fetch a bucket of water.
Word seemed to spread quickly, and soon Thomas barged into the house, a bottle of alcohol in hand. He took the cloth from me, and I sat there, observing the scene. Conversations and typical sibling banter filled the air as Arthur and Ada exchanged words, while John and I simply watched them. Arthur began to explain how Inspector Campbell had asked him to assist with a robbery, recounting the encounter. Lost in my own thoughts, I couldn't help but voice my concerns.
"Will you help him? I mean, I wouldn't want to even think of helping a man who beat and bruised me... but..." I trailed off, realizing that all eyes were on me.
"Sorry, please continue," I quickly added.
"We don't help coppers," John stated firmly beside me.
Arthur continued, "He knew all about our war record... said we were patriots like him. I told him we'd take a family meeting and vote."
Knowing this was turning into Family business, I quietly saw myself out, going back to the betting shop to try and do extra work to keep myself busy. Despite the trust I had gained from the family, I understood that certain matters were their own to handle. It was their business, and I respected their boundaries.
///
My mind couldn't seem to shake off the lingering thoughts from our conversation. It had been a good thirty minutes, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the Shelby family would truly help that man with the robbery. After all, how could they trust someone who had beaten one of their own? The situation seemed precarious at best.
"Sana talaga bumalik na ako. Mas masaya siguro ako kung animator na lang ako... please, Lord, babait na ako kung ibabalik niyo lang ako..." I quietly murmured to myself, longing for the familiarity of my previous life.
"What are you blabbering about, eh?" a gruff voice interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to find Thomas standing before me, a quizzical expression on his face. I raised an eyebrow at him, which seemed to amuse him.
"You haven't apologized since the first time we met," I said, a hint of amusement in my voice.
"And you haven't told me what you said," he replied, curiosity piqued.
"It was a curse. I was cursing you to make a bad decision for pointing a gun at me," I snickered.
A moment of silence passed between us before we both chuckled. "So maybe it isn’t a curse... I was actually wishing to go back home. I even asked the Lord. I told Him that if He took me back, I would be nicer. I just think it would be nice if I could work as an animator. After all, I studied to become one after everything," I confessed, grateful for the Shelby family for taking me in and caring for me in their own ways.
To my surprise, Arthur and I discovered a shared love for drawing. It became apparent when he noticed me doodling one day, and he revealed that he used to love drawing horses. We began to draw together from time to time, he even thought me a few things or so.
Thomas, on the other hand, was more reserved. We didn't have much in common, but whenever I spoke in my native language, he would ask questions about its meaning. He also showed patience when I acted differently, allowing me to talk to him in a more casual manner over time.
John, being closer to my age, was a friendly presence. He had a boisterous personality, and I appreciated having someone to distract me from the noises in my head, a breath of fresh air in this intense environment.
Ada was easy to get along with. She lent me some of her clothing and was always open to conversation. She reminded me of my friends back home, particularly Ava.
Polly and I had a relationship reminiscent of the one I shared with my mother. At first, it felt like walking on thin air, but as I diligently carried out my duties and refrained from meddling in their affairs, she began to open up. She treated me like her own, and when I mentioned the similarities between her tea leaf reading and the practices of lbularyos or witch doctors, she encouraged me to share more.
And now, here I sat with Thomas Shelby himself. Thomas, who stayed quiet for most parts. His presence made me feel like I should continue talking.
"You lot can speak a different language too, right? Maybe you can teach me so that when I go back, I can make an impression, hm?" I suggested, which made him quirk a brow
"Then you'll have to teach me yours too, so it'll be fair, eh?" he replied with a smile and a shake of his head. Jackpot.
"Sure. Speaking of learning, do you know how I got good with numbers?" I asked, looking at him intently. It was just the two of us in the betting shop now, giving me the freedom to share. He then sat down next to me. Taking his gesture as an invitation to keep talking, I continued.
"When I was seven years old, my parents enrolled me in a program, a math center. It took me eight years to complete the whole program!" I explained, shivering at the memories.
"You didn't go to school?" he inquired.
"Oh, I did. I attended school while also studying math at that center. By the time I was sixteen, I was juggling school subjects like statistics, probabilities, and calculus, along with history lessons about my country... all that stuff. Later on, I learned animation, which gave me something to do, something I enjoyed."
"What do you do in animation?" Thomas asked, my face seemed to look very excited as i moved my chair closer to him, as if it wod be easy for him to be absorbing the knowledge I was about to share.
"Well," I began, a smile playing on my lips, "I draw illustrations, frame by frame. Basically, you see this?" I gestured, moving my hand as if I'm waving. He nodded in response as If my gesture wasn't obvious. "I draw something like that, people in motion, you know, like those pictures Ada goes to see. But Instead of people, its drawings. That was my job."
"And you can't do that now?" Thomas questioned, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Well...its easier to do it digitally," I explained, trying to find the right words to describe the concept, I used my hands, waving them in the air as if it would help the situation. Seeing his puzzled expression, I sighed and admitted defeat. "You know... its like this technology. It's hard to explain, to be honest. It's giving me a headache just thinking about it."
Thomas nodded, tilting his head slightly to indicate that he had listened to my explanation. After awhile more, we both stood up
"I've go to go, somewhere I need to be"
"Oh? Did my curse work? You're off to make a bad decision?" I joked which earned me another smile and a shake of his head.
"Maybe tomorrow, Do you drink?"
"That depends, is there an occasion?" I asked,walking over to the window, there I realised it was already dark, we've talked throughout the afternoon.
"Just come, eh?"
"Ask me again next time and I'll agree, if we spend too much time your ears might bleed."
"Next time then."
///
///
She stayed in Thomas' room during her stay, a decision made by the family. As she headed upstairs, she spotted Polly taking care of Finn. Pausing in her task, Polly spoke up.
"Need any help?"
"No, just check on Ada for me, thank you, love," she replied, and I agreed to do so.
"Alright, goodnight, Pol."
"Goodnight, love."
Making my way upstairs, I found Ada in her room.
"Are you going to sleep? Pol asked me to check up on you," I asked, and she yawned and nodded, pushing me towards Thomas' room.
"Yeah, off to bed. You too. I can manage myself. Goodnight, (Y/N)!"
"Oh, goodnight Ada," I said before she shut the door, leaving me with confused, what are you up to Ada? I walked to the bed and crawled under the covers, ready to sleep.
As I drifted off, I couldn't help but utter a quiet gratitude, "Thank you, po," to no one in particular.
---
"Pol, do you know anyone who might know a way for me to get back? I think I'm losing hope already," I asked Polly, seeking some answers. It had been quite a hectic week word of mouth saying Thomas shooting someone, Mr. Campbell raiding homes of communists, Ada's pregnancy, and Thomas picking a fight with the Lee family.
"Oh, love. Just a little longer, hm? You'll go back. I'm sure of it," Polly said, her words providing temporary comfort. I had grown attached to the Shelby family, and the thought of leaving without knowing their fate weighed heavily on my mind.
"You know, Poll, I'm scared. If I do leave, then what about you guys? I won't ever get to see you all again... I won't know how you guys are doing unless I can read it from history books. I won't know how to help," I confessed, my voice filled with concern.
She took my hand in hers, offering reassurance. "Don't worry, love. Just give us a proper goodbye, and we'll be fine, alright?"
"I'll miss you if I do go," I admitted, a touch of sadness in my voice.
"We'll miss you too," she replied, understanding my worries.
---
That night, I decided to stay up late. I sat in the kitchen, working on a few doodles on a piece of paper. I drew frogs, horses, Polly, Ada, and Finn. The door swung open, revealing a drenched Thomas holding a bottle of whiskey.
"Woah," I exclaimed, surprised by his sudden entrance.
"A drink?" he offered, though his tone felt more like an order than an invitation. Remembering my promise, I grabbed two glasses and placed them on the table as he poured a drink for both of us.
"So, rough day? What happened this time?" I asked, curious to hear the events that had happened, though by the looks of it, thos wasn't a good one.
"I shot a horse," he replied. My eyes widened, my mouth agape, silently urging him to continue.
"It looked at me the wrong way, so I..." he trailed off, the weight of his actions evident in his voice.
"I look at you the wrong way most of the time. Maybe you should've done the same to me," I mumbled, moving my chair closer to him. He sighed, taking a swig of his drink.
"Back in France, I got used to seeing men die, but I never got used to seeing horses die," he confessed, his tone filled with remorse.
I nodded, taking small sips of my whiskey. "Horses, or any animals in general, they aren't like us. When we kill, it can be for so many reasons, but they do it to survive and protect. So, it's good that you feel bad about it. It makes you human. It proves you're not what you think you are."
"What do you think I am?" he questioned, curiosity lacing his words.
"You're not that far off. You're not as cold as anyone, or even yourself, perceives you to be, and that's a good thing. So, let it all out today," I encouraged, understanding the weight of his burdens.
We fell into a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the clinking of glasses as he poured himself more whiskey. After a while, I nudged him with my glass.
"I don't drink much," I confessed, offering him my glass. He took it and drank, and eventually, he began to talk again.
"Is that Polly?" he asked, pointing at the doodle I had made of her. I nodded, pointing out the other family members as well.
"I drew the people I talked to today. I guess I should draw you too, huh?" I suggested, feeling a sense of warmth in our conversation. He shrugged, turning his chair to fully face me.
"Should I stay still, then, eh?" he asked playfully.
"Nope! I've already memorized your face by now," I replied without much thought, not realizing the subtle smirk that graced his lips as I began to sketch him.
"You know, I'm glad that it was your house I accidentally traveled to. Even though it was scary at first," I shared, stealing quick glances at his drenched face to capture the details in my sketch. "Anyways, you'll catch a cold if you stay like that. When I was a kid, my parents used to throw their slippers at me from inside while I played in the rain."
"What? Would you do that to me?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Imagining the scenario, I burst into laughter. The image of me throwing slippers at Thomas in the rain seemed quite comical.
"I will if you let me."
"Maybe someday"
When I finished the sketch, I looked at it with satisfaction.
"Pogi," I murmured, using a Filipino term that meant "handsome." Though he didn't need to know that
"Pogi?" he repeated, looking at me curiously. I shook my head, realizing I had slipped into a different language.
"I said I was done," I clarified, handing him the paper with a smile. He took it, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered, barely above a breath. We both knew that those two words held multiple meanings, and despite everything, he meant them sincerely.
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leenieweenie12 · 2 days
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You're Too Sweet For Me
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Ok this is literally the first little fic I've ever written (and completed) so please give me the tiniest amount of grace, I am begging you. I am so afraid to post this but I figure, why the hell not?! Gotta live a little. Also side note, I know this is so cliche to take place in a flower shop but I am ~unoriginal~ and that's what I came up with.
Warnings: none, this is fluff
Words: 1,213
The bell over the door chimed, letting her know that a customer had just arrived. 
“Be with you in a minute!” she called from the side room where she was arranging a colorful spring bouquet. 
“S’alright, it’s just ol Alfie,” a familiar gruff voice hollered back. 
She smiled to herself and glanced at the clock above the doorway. Five o’clock, right on time. She wiped her hands on her already dirty apron and walked out to the main shop. Her dear friend Alfie Solomons was standing with his back toward her, looking at the rows of blooms spread around the room. He had his signature long black coat and hat on, his small cane clutched in one hand. 
“Is it Wednesday already, then?” she asked, placing a hand on Alfie’s shoulder. “Could’ve sworn it was still Tuesday.”
“That’s the thing about the days, love, once one ends, the next one begins,” he put his arm around her waist and gave her a small sideways hug. “Got anything exciting going on back there?” his head tipped slightly to the side room.
She shrugged. “Nothing too thrilling. Come back and give me a hand, would ya?” 
She walked ahead of him into the small area that was dedicated to arranging. In a glass vase on the counter was a sprawling bouquet of peonies, roses, and cosmos. 
“Think Mr. Klein stepped out on the missus again,” she snickered. “This is the third arrangement he’s ordered just this month for her.” 
Alfie reached out and gently touched one of the peonies with a calloused ring adorned finger, a funny sight to see from such a burly man. “Yeah, well,  I can’t blame the man. Mrs. Klein is about as irritating as they come, with that God awful nasally voice of hers constantly droning on about fuck all.” He took half a step back to admire the bouquet in its entirety. “Put some larkspur in there, add a little height.” 
She chuckled and shook her head, “You always have to have a say in my work, don’t you?” Despite her words, she turned and grabbed a few stems of the purple larkspur in the bucket on the counter and carefully added them to the vase. “But you’re always right, which you know annoys the hell out of me.” 
The man smiled and gestured with his hands, “See, there ya go, love. Perfect.” 
She smiled and turned to face Alfie, her back leaning against the counter. She looked at the older man’s face and studied it intensely, as she had countless times before. It wasn’t much of a secret that she had feelings for him. He had been coming into her flower shop for almost two years by then. He started coming every other week to pick up arrangements for his mother. Every other week quickly turned to once weekly, then every other day. Now it was routine for them; every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, at exactly five o’clock, Alfie would come to the shop. He had stopped buying bouquets for his mother after her passing roughly a year before. Now he just visited her for pleasure. They had become quite good friends in that time. Alfie would often bring her some dinner if he knew she had to stay  late to fill an order. Other evenings he would take her out either to a local pub or restaurant to enjoy food and drinks. Her feelings grew by the day but she never acted on them. She figured that if Alfie felt the same way he would have made a move by that point, so for the time being she let it go. She tried not to let it bother her too much, the ache in her heart that left a pang of emptiness. Most of the time they were having far too much fun for her to realize it was even there. But every once in a while, in the quiet moments such as the one they were having in her little flower shop, she felt it. 
There was something about that day, that moment, that she felt the overwhelming urge to fill that empty void. She would never know what it was that made her do it, but she grabbed the lapels of Alfie’s coat and pulled herself to him, pressing her lips to his. At first, there was no reaction from the bearish man, but as she didn’t back off, she felt Alfie’s large hand snake behind her neck. He deepened the kiss, pushing her back against the counter. Her arms went around his neck as he moved his own hands to her waist and effortlessly picked her up to sit her on the surface. Their lips crashed together like two teenagers indulging their pubescent hormones for the first time, tongues intertwining at a fervent pace. 
When they finally released each other, Alfie took half a step back. “Fuckin ‘ell,” he said with a smirk. “Not that I didn’t enjoy that, but what the hell are you thinking, love?” 
She looked into his impassioned eyes sheepishly and gave him a small smile. “Don’t be daft, Alfie. You know how terrible I am at hiding my feelings. Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this.” She brought a hand up to his scraggly beard and gave it a pet. 
Alfie’s gaze intensified and his brow furrowed. He looked back and forth between her green eyes. searching for some sort of answer. “Darling, I-” he started before she put her hands on his chest.
“And don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way because a kiss never lies, and the way you just kissed me revealed a whole lot of truth, Alfie Solomons.”
He snickered and put his hands back on her waist. “You got me there, treacle. Not even gonna try to be coy with you. I’m just a bit taken aback is all.”
The next few hours were spent just the two of them in her modest flower shop vacillating between conversation about their feelings for each other and intimate caressing and necking. When they finally realized how late it was by the darkness outside, Alfie turned toward her with a serious glance. 
“I’m not a good man,” he declared in a serious tone. “I’ve done awful things to a lot of people.”
She closed the gap between them and laid her cheek against his broad chest, waiting for his bulky arms to enclose around her. “But you’ve never done anything awful to me, Alfie, and that’s what I care about. Everything you’ve done you’ve done for a reason. I know that.”
He wrapped her small frame up with his own body and sighed, “You’re too sweet for me, love.” He bent his head down and gingerly kissed the top of her head. 
“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” she said as she linked her arm through his and stepped toward the door. 
With the chilly night air greeting them, they strolled out to the quiet Camden street, arm in arm, both with minds racing of the future to come for their newfound romance, smiles spread wide across their faces. 
They could feel the electricity of love sparking between them, lighting up the night. This was the start of something beautiful.
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tommygrace · 3 days
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We never talked about this scene, but at that moment Tommy calls Grace 😭 He is completely beaten and well, they broke his head, right? And all he wants is her.
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"Grace?"
Thoughts?.@camewiththeframe @peakyv
@tommyxgrace-always @emmatgc
@lady-of-the-english @loveisalwaystheanswer @mary-fantg @thefandomlounge @squuls @rogers060967
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sinsirellaxx · 1 day
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The force that is Thomas Shelby
Y/N angrily paced back and forth in the dark bedroom, her plush bottom lip an angry red as she kept biting it – her trembling hands massaging her temples in vain. She knew it had been a mistake. She had always known that she would come to regret it one day. She hadn't even wanted to – but she couldn't resist the older woman. Everything she had said, every promise she had made had blinded her and convinced her to reluctantly agree. "There is worse evil out there. If you want to be protected – if you want to be safe ... then this is it. You are a beautiful young girl Y/N. And Small Heath is a cruel place for an innocent thing such as you." What could happen, right? At first she had still been scared of the male. They had never talked much – oh how she wished it had been one of the other brothers – but slowly he opened up. Bit by bit. He started talking to her more frequently. His eyes did not seem as cold anymore whenever they were directed at her. The first few weeks of their marriage he had taken it slow. He did not wish to spook her – she was such a fragile little thing. He had given her enough space to get used to Arrow House. Hadn't even touched her the first few days because of the way her whole body trembled when he tried to get close the first night. He had seemed so understanding. With each passing week – each passing day – she grew fonder of the male. And the more she showed her affection, the more the male relaxed around her – freely showing the affection and attraction he felt towards the girl. She didn't have to know that he had been intrigued ever since laying his icy eyes on her.
Y/N had just realized her growing feelings for the man a few days prior to this moment – she had been so happy and ready to embrace him with her whole being.  Walking towards his office with quiet steps and her heart beating out of her chest in the middle of the night in search of her husband she had come to a halt when she had heard his deep voice.
Curiosity and worry had etched onto her face as she listened closely. He wanted to meet up with someone. He would be waiting he had said. Grace, he had said. All kinds of thoughts clouded her mind as she quickly walked back to their room, her heart aching painfully as it anticipated the worst. Quickly climbing under the covers she closed her eyes, trying to even out her breath and pretending to sleep when she heard the door to their bedroom open.
On said day she had followed him to an apartment and watched as anoher woman walked into to building a while after him. The light of one of the rooms she could see from outside turned on and her eyes widened as she watched her husband passionately kiss the small blonde woman.
Y/N had stormed back home after witnessing her husband's infidelity. Tears streaming down her reddened cheeks while sobs racked her whole body.
She had spent a good hour crying and pacing, her eyes swollen and puffy. Her chest tight and suffocating.
She did not know what to do. Should she confront him? But what for? All she knew was that she could not stay in their home. His home. Rushing to her wardrobe she grabbed one of her bags and stuffed it with some of her necessities, her own savings and her favorite accessories. Grabbing the keys to her own small bakery – the only thing that belongs to just her – she rushed out of the room. She silently begged for Francis to be asleep, for she knew where the loyalties of the older woman lie. After checking her surroundings she rushed to the front door, grabbing her coat and her boots before stepping out of the house – and with that, she left Arrow House without looking back.
Thomas Shelby had left the apartment with a heavy feeling in his chest. The thought of your beautiful face, your kind eyes and your soft smile had plagued him throughout the night. He was surprised he pulled through with his passionate affair with Grace – but with the whiskey in his system he did not have to worry too much about consequences and repercussions. Getting out of his car the tired male walked up the stairs to his estate, guilt tearing at his insides as he opened the door. He walked straight up the stairs, coat still on as he wanted to – no needed to reach his bedroom, where he was sure his little wife would be sleeping peacefully. He opened the door as quietly as possible while removing his cap from his head. Sighing softly, he pushed the door open, his eyes immediately landing on the empty bed. He frowned as he walked into the center of the room, turning to look at every corner – until his eyes landed on the open wardrobe, taking notice of the lack of clothes and the missing duffle bag. He cursed under his breath before storming out of the bedroom. "Y/N!" He yelled as he went to open every single door, checking every guest bedroom, every bathroom and even the kitchens. "Y/N!" He yelled louder, his throat already feeling raw from the amount of force he used to shout.
He heard a door open and rushed footsteps coming towards him, causing him to quickly walk out of the kitchen in hopes of finding his wife. However, he was disappointed to see one of the maids. "Where is my wife?" He managed to grit out through his teeth.
Francis appeared right behind the younger maid and put her hand on the scared woman's shoulder. "She walked out shortly before you arrived Mr. Shelby." Although she spoke softly, her voice vibrated painfully in the man's ears. "What do you mean she walked out, eh? Why didn't you stop her?!" His voice boomed towards the end of his question, his rough hand pushing through his hair as the quickly turned around to rush out of the house. The woman's explanation could wait. He needed to find his wife first.
He had been driving for a while, his grip on his steering wheel growing tighter with each passing moment. She couldn't have gone too far. It did not make sense. The thought of his wife running away with someone else briefly passed his mind, deepening the angry frown on his face. She could never. His wife was too naïve – too pure. Yet the thought didn't leave him alone, causing him to drive faster.
He stopped a few meters away from the small shop, stepping out of the car. His steps heavy and confident as he walked towards the building. He knew she had nowhere else to go. If she did not run away with someone this is the only place she would go to in the middle of the night. His footsteps grew quicker as he noticed the faint light peeking out from behind the drawn blinds. Coming to a halt in front of the door he did not waste another second before he carefully tried to push the door open. He wasn't sure if he should be disappointed, worried or glad that Y/N had forgotten to lock the door – but that was not of importance in that moment. He pushed the door open carefully scouting the room – looking for his wife. The shop itself was clear, which meant that she had to be in the kitchen or the backroom. He closed the door quietly and locked it with the key that was on the door. Pocketing the key he walked through the shop to the backroom. He could vaguely hear sniffling coming from behind the door, which sent a pang of guilt and worry through his chest. Something must have happened. Tommy briefly wondered if she knows but it couldn't be – right?
He opened the door of the backroom and stepped inside, his sudden appearance causing her to flinch and scramble to her feet with a silent gasp. The moment her eyes met his her whole body visibly shuddered in a mix of emotions. Tommy watched his wife with a stoic face. Waiting for her to make a move. To say something. He blinked slowly as the silence between them weighed heavy and although he is a patient man it seemingly did not apply to this exact situation. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night?" He mumbled while raising his brow as he stared pointedly at her. His voice low. He watched her open and close her pretty lips, desperately trying to say something – to look for an excuse. Before she could come up with something to say he motioned to the duffle bag in the corner of the room. "What is that for?" His eyes never left her as he watched her squirm, her hand playing with the sleeve of her blouse. "Where you planning on leaving me?" He spit out as he stalked closer to her, his face muscles taut with anger. Stopping just an inch in front of her, their chests almost touching, her leaned down to whisper in her ear.  "Were you trying to leave your husband? Did you forget about your vows?"
That seemed to do the trick as the dam holding back her tears and her words burst open. She pushed him away from herself with all the strength she could muster up. "Did I forget about our vows?!" She yelled, the fear she felt seconds ago pushed to the back of her mind – letting the anger that had been boiling inside her take the upper hand. "You seem to be the one forgetting about the vows." She grit out, pushing her finger angrily into his chest. "You disrespected me as your wife!"
Tommy just stared at her blankly as she continued her rant. He did not even feel her finger stabbing him repeatedly in the chest. "I saw you with her." Her voice broke as she whispered the last bit, a sob climbing its way up her throat. "A-And I really thought that this would work." She gesticulated between them as she sobbed. "You are just as bad as I had feared. No – you are even worse than that. I trusted you –" She cried as she turned around, hiding her face in her hands as she tried to calm herself down.
The older male stared in shock – the weight of her words grounding him. The fury and disappointment he felt melting away and being replaced by heavy guilt. He had been caught. Icy blue eyes watched her shoulders tremble from the onslaught of tears and sobs wracking through her body. He thought he had been discreet. Why did he even care this much? Why did the sight of her falling apart hurt him so much? For the first time in a long time Thomas Shelby did not know what to say. Should he beg for forgiveness? Tommy never begs – his ego would never let him. Should he just walk out? He knew he couldn't nor wouldn't walk out of there alone. He realized that he needed her.
"Please – just leave Thomas. I do not want to see you again." She whimpered out as she gripped the front of her blouse in her hand.  Thomas' hand halted midair at her words. "I want a divorce. T-This is clearly not working, and I don't want to be in the way ..." She spoke more clearly this time, clearing her throat as she straightened her posture. At the mention of a divorce something snapped inside of Tommy as he turned Y/N around and pushed her against the wall, one of his hands finding her waist as the other grabbed hold of her jaw. The brunette girl yelped in pain, her trembling hands flying up to wrap around his hand on her face, clumsily trying to pry his fingers off. He pushed her face up to meet his narrowed eyes – a dangerous glint swimming in his blue orbs. The fury in his eyes sent shivers down her spine. "What did you say, wife? I think I misheard you, eh?" He mumbled loudly, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the frightened woman in front of him. Y/N just stared at him with wide eyes – a newfound fear spreading throughout her whole body, paralyzing her on the spot. "Cat got your tongue?" Tommy smirked cruelly at her. "I don't know what you claim to have seen. But no wife of mine will spew nonsense about a divorce, aye?" He breathed against her ear as he placed a soft but chilling kiss on the expensive earrings, /he had gifted her, followed by a sharp bite to hear lobe. "You'll be a good wife and come back home with me – without causing a scene. You really shouldn't throw around that word so recklessly – right? Divorce." He scoffed, his lips softly pressed against her cheek. "You can't just leave – you are my wife. You are mine." He pressed a lingering kiss to her jaw before lifting his head up, staring into her teary eyes.
"Did you really think you can leave just like that? Without saying a word? If you're so worried about your husband swaying you should take better care of him, don't you think so?" He spoke softly as the fingers on her jaw slackened, moving to softly stroke her wet cheek. He chuckled at her crestfallen face as he let go of her chin, taking a step back. His eyes still trained on her.
Thomas just stared at his wife, his eyes cold and void of any emotion. Y/N trembled slightly, still shaken from the force the man had used against her. She finally managed to look into his eyes, with her own big brown ones. Y/N was scared, in these few months of being married to him she hadn't seen his cruel side – but she had heard all the rumors about him. He was worse than the rumors.
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viesanterieures · 1 day
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me: "i don’t have a type in men"
the guys i find hot:
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cillmequick · 2 days
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Hello! What fics are you reading at the moment? Or what fics are on your reading list (if you have one)?
Hi! How are you?
So, I wish I was organised enough to have a reading list and frankly I should have one, but the truth is that I am a chaotic mess and usually just grab onto whatever’s in front of me at any given moment 🙈 I apologise unreservedly to my mutuals for being a slightly crap reader 🤦🏼‍♀️
However, here is a non-exhaustive list of things I’m reading or have good intentions to catch up on…
Fuck Buddies - @garrison-girl-08
Scandal - @garrison-girl-08
Blind Date - @garrison-girl-08
Misadventures - @moral-terpitude - I’m SO behind but I adore this story and it deserves tonnes more love than it gets!
Time After Time - @all-mirth-no-matter - also very behind but it’s amazing!
Now You Know The Truth - @zablife - I need to catch up!
Nobody’s Girl - @darklydeliciousdesires - not started yet but I love this woman to death and am living for her Luca era 🤭
Heart, Body and Soul - @peakyswritings - another I’ve not started but intend to!
Shadow of the Sea - @lunarubra - a new writer in our midst! Check out her new Cillian x OC series (as ever I need to catch up!)
Basically everything by @emotionalcadaver but esp I need to finish her In Time series and I want to at some stage read her wonderful peaky stories with my darling Lucy who I feel I already know so well 🤍
And then not specific fics but writers I try and read when I see they post, depending on character and whatnot, though YOU should read everything they write because they are marvellous humans:
@peakyscillian
@scorpiussage
@justrainandcoffee
@runnning-outof-time
@kiss-me-cill-me
@noforkingclue - who is responsible for for my current Slow Horses/ River Cartwright / Jack Lowden unhingery 😂 I’m also looking for stories for that fandom but it is teeny weeny.
I’m bound to have forgotten something or someone so check back for any ‘oh shit!’ updates 😂
And finally, for people reading this, please do try and leave comments or contact writers if you enjoy something you’ve read. It makes their whole day 🤍
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garrison-girl-08 · 8 hours
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The Other Woman
Ongoing Series Part 159 - More here
Pairing- Cillian Murphy and Reader - Not based on real life.Thank you for your support, would love to hear your thoughts!
Please note- there will be a time hop in this. I am so behind on Oscars, and awards season for this story. Sorry!
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"Shit," you panicked, pushing him off you. Hobbling to the bathroom, to try and clean yourself up. To try and get his cum out of you. You hadn't even been taking any birth control. Not wanting any hormones to interfere with your body, when you were breastfeeding.
"Shit, shit," you huffed.
Cillian lay back on the bed, feeling satisfied with himself. God, he had missed being buried deep inside of you. That was what you had both needed, to reconnect again. Wiping yourself with tissue, you started to panic, turning the shower on. To try and clean yourself up.
Cillian appeared in the doorway, his cock still hard. “He is ready for round two?" he winked, stroking his hand along his shaft.
"How can we be so stupid?" you panicked, washing yourself in the shower. Trying to rinse his cum out of you.
"Babe, you can't get pregnant when you are breastfeeding," he frowned, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. Like it was no big deal. It wasn't his body, he didn't have to worry.
"Of course you bloody can! That is an old wives tale," you vented. Was he actually that stupid!!
Beginning to dry yourself with the towel, imaging yourself with two babies under a year old. Cillian away working, you pacing the floor all night. You felt you could barely cope, with one baby.
"We will have to get the morning after pill," you scowled, pulling your clothes back on. The moment of passion now forgotten. The whole argument this morning, now forgotten.
"Really?" Cillian frowned, heading for the shower. "Is that not a bit extreme, Y/n?"
Standing under the water, he let his head fall back. Washing away the hangover, the stress of yesterday. The questions he would have to answer, over the pictures online.
"Extreme?" you hissed, as you heard the font door close, followed by Niamh crying and Scout barking. "Extreme is two babies under one, you will have to sort it out," you pointed at him, pulling your hoodie back over your head. "Get someone to do it,"
"Me?" Cillian called back, "Who?"
Eventually agreeing to stay, for the rest of the weekend. You were soon back at the festival with Cillian, and his family. Having changed into a dress, boots and tights. You had curled your hair, and applied make up. Feeling like you had a point to prove. No one was going to take your man.
You were united.
Cillian hadn't left your side all afternoon, holding hands as you walked to the green room. Niamh strapped against his chest, he pressed a kiss into your hair. Inhaling your coconut shampoo. Closing the door, you both found Lyndsey rifling through a carrier bag.
"Oh hey, here take this now," she spoke up, handing you the bag. "It is safe to take when you are breastfeeding, I asked them and also read the leaflet,"
The morning after pill, sat inside the carrier bag. You had both had no choice, but to task Lyndsey with going to get it. She didn't mind, it was part of her job. She had said, and had made no judgement. Popping the pill out, you swallowed it with some water.
"Honestly Lyndsey, thank you so much. I know this is embarrassing. It won't happen again," you explained, "We do really appreciate you doing this, don't we Cill?" You could see him blushing, as he scrolled through his phone.
"Yeah, yeah, thanks," he mumbled, wanting to crawl into a corner and hide. Patting Niamh on the back, as she began to stir.
"We have all been there," she smiled, "Anyway thought you might need these too, here catch," Cillian lifted his hands up, as she threw a box of condoms at him. Both yourself and Lyndsey, bursting into a fit of giggles.
(Time Hop)
Bustling around your kitchen counter, you bent to check the chicken in the oven. "Alexa, set a timer for twenty minutes," you spoke up. Shooing Scout away, back outside into the garden. Checking Niamh's video baby monitor. Still napping, good, it gave you more time.
"How many people are coming to this party?" your mother asked.
Oh yes, your mother was here. It had been a few busy weeks for you all. Cillian had been away for awards season. You had joined him for the Oscars, taking Niamh and Niall with you.
You had flown home yesterday morning, Cillian was arriving today. You had planned a party for him, all of his friends and family. Lots of drinks and food. Your mother was meant to be helping. But she was sitting at the breakfast bar, drinking tea.
"I'm not actually sure, Mum." you answered, finishing lifting cheese out of the fridge. Half listening to her rambling on. She had arrived last night, and had barely put Niamh down since. She hadn't seen her for weeks, so you were trying to be patient.
"Could you not have got caterers in?" she questioned, "Cillian must be able to afford it, he just won an Oscar,"
Trying not to groan, you looked towards her. "It's not about affording it, I wanted to do it," you answered, trying to keep your smile fixed. She was not going to spoil this day. “Can you check the beef, in the slow cooker please?”
Putting her cup down, she leant back in her chair, eyes fixed on yours. "You know something, Y/n. You look beautiful, your figure in that dress, and," she paused, swallowing harshly. "You look happy. Motherhood really suits you,"
Freezing at the table, you put the cheese down. Had she actually just paid you a compliment? Was she feeling ok?
"Thank you," you answered, suddenly feeling emotional. "I have my big girl support knickers on," you laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
Standing, she put her arm on your elbow. "Take the compliment, you had a baby eight weeks ago. You look stunning, Cillian is a lucky man. I hope he realises that. After the pictures in the paper, I mean....."
"Thanks Mum," you answered, feeling uneasy. You weren't used to this affection from her. Did she want something? "We don't need to discuss that again, do we?"
"Oooh she's awake, I will go," Your Mum announced, watching the monitor. Hastily rushing upstairs, to her grand daughter. "You check that beef, Y/n,"
Hearing the doorbell, you marched through the house to answer. Revealing Liv and her partner Seb, her baby bump proudly on show. "Aw thank god, come in, come in. Hi Seb," Greeting them with a hug, you all walked through to the kitchen.
"My mother is being nice to me," you whispered, "I don't know why, I'm on edge I need a glass of wine,"
Frowning, Seb looked between you both, "Sorry Seb, you haven't met her yet. She's ... challenging," you explained, as she walked in holding Niamh.
"Nannie's little princess is awake, yes she is," she cooed, cradling Niamh, rocking her from side to side. She didn't even like being rocked, she like being upright. "Oh, Olivia, lovely to see you again, and who is this handsome man?"
Leaving them to chat, you carried on with the food. Wanting to make this day special for Cillian. No doubt he would be jet lagged, but still riding on the adrenaline of his Oscar win. He knew about the party, a few quiet drinks he had agreed to.
An hour later, the party was in full swing. You were rushing around, making sure everyone had a drink. Niamh loving the attention of people. Liv was cradling her chatting away, earning little smiles from your daughter.
“You are a natural,” you whispered in her ear, resting your head on her shoulder. “She loves her Aunty Liv, don’t you?” Niamh cooed up at you, her little arms waving.
“It’s easy, when you can hand them back,” she sighed, rubbing her own bump. "We are going to find out the sex, of the baby next week. You want to come?"
"Really!! Of course I do," you clapped your hands excitedly. "If it's ok with Seb of course, I don't want to intrude on your special moment,"
"He is like a dear in headlights, with this whole thing. I don't know... if he even wants this baby," blinking away tears, you wrapped your arm around her. "Anyway, I want you there,"
"Then I will be there," you promised. "It will feel more real when you know, then we can go shopping,"
Scout’s incessant barking, signalled Cillian’s arrival. Leaving Niamh with Liv, you skipped through the house. Excited to see him, it had only been a day. But it felt longer, you were apart more than you were together lately.
Excusing yourself, through the crowd gathered around him. You finally reached him.
“Welcome home, Oscar winner,” you teased, letting him pick you up. Giving you a bear hug, even in a crowded room. It felt like it was just the two of you. Having your special moment. Burying his head into your hair, he kissed your neck.
“I’m so glad to be back, I love you,” holding your face, he kissed you. All of your visitors cheering him on.
“Come and see your cake,” you begged him, pulling him through the crowd. People desperate to congratulate him, on his win. Your house decorated with red, black and gold balloons. Congratulations banners draped over doorways. He deserved this special day.
“Wow, you make it?” He chuckled, arms snaking around your waist.
“Of course not, they added the little girl on top,” you replied, nudging him. “It's so cute, anyway welcome home,”
"We are all back together, baby," he winked, wrapping his arms around you.
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Tags - @mitchiesdungeon @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @being-worthy @ntmynouis @thenattitude @katsav17 @answer-the-sirens @kathrinemelissa @queenshelby@geminiwolves @lyarr24 @ysmmsy@margoo0 @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @dolllol2405 @misselsbells06@cheekybluefox @alreadybroken-ts @vousmemanqueez-blog @peaky-cillian @look-at-the-soul@lespendy @cillmequick @raychhh @captivatedbycillianmurphy @castellandiangelo @midnightmagpiemama @elenavampire21@camilleholland89 @cljordan-imperium @peakyscillian @muhahaha303 @already-broken144 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @amberpanda99 @sherbitdibdab @bernelflo @trixie23 @cilloak @lau219 @in0320@stilestotherescue @girlwith-thepearlearring @blondie-22 @brummiereader @neonpurplestars89-blog @danzer8705
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eriklehnsherryes · 7 hours
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Peaky Blinders | 3.06
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call-sign-shark · 2 days
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Little Lamb part. 2 || Arthur Shelby x Reader x OFC
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Summary: You discover that Arthur is already married when you are faced with his wife. Worst, she seems to already know about you. Did she see you flirting with her husband? (Yandere! Arthur Shelby x Reader x Yandere!OFC)
TW: (for the entire short series) Toxic dynamic, polyamory relationship, murders, torture, graphic depiction of violence, heavy allusion to smut, obsessive behavior, possessive!lovers, angst and horror. Inspired by the song The Things I Do For Love by Bludnymph.
Words: 1.3 K
Notes:
✞ 0 proofreading, it's also prolly bad written but it's just a little something I write for fun.
✞ Heaven in Reader in the ongoing Arthur x You series Heaven in Your Eyes.
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PREVIOUS PART
Six months ago.
She hasn't stopped crying since they came back from the doctor's office. With his long and bony fingers lost in her wild silver mane, Arthur gently massages his wife's scalp in a desperate attempt to chase her troubles away.
"It's goin' to be okay, love." His usually loud baritone voice had turned into a tender hush. Gathering all his protective nature to remain the reassuring one, he presses a kiss on top of her head,
"No, it's not! What's wrong with me?!" She roars through her sobs, her fists weakly hitting Arthur's chest in frustration as her pain blends with a self-targeted rage. Usually, Heaven Shelby is not the emotive kind — quite the opposite, the young French girl's tears were as scarce as the most precious stones, only falling from her aquamarine eyes when the situation was truly catastrophic. Arthur himself could hold count of the few times she cried on a single hand. Yet, she seems unable to stop, her face hidden in the crook of her husband's neck and her salty tears dampening the fabric of his shirt.
"Don't fucking say there's someth' wrong with ya." Trying his best to remain gentle, Arthur shifts a little before cupping her doll face and then forces her to face his stern steel-blue eyes. The look she gave him, filled with inconsolable sorrow, broke his heart into pieces.
How he hates watching her in pain — it makes him feel powerless and boiling from the inside because, this time, there is literally nothing he can do to fix it. Nothing his fists can destroy, nothing his kisses can heal. All he has is words, and God knew how bad he is with them. "I don't care if ya can't have a baby, what matters is you. Only you." Still, he tried, wiping her tears and the remnant of her mascara with a soft caress from his thumbs. “Please stop crying…”
"But you've always wanted to be a father." She said through gritted teeth, her fleshy lower lip trembling and her eyes overflowing once again as she fought against another wave of uncontrollable sadness, "The night of our wedding I promised I'll give you a family and look at me! Look at me Arthur! I can't even be pregnant! This is... This is fucking unfair..." Her voice cracked. Unfair that John could spawn a whole football team. Unfair that Tommy got Grace's pregnant after fucking her only once when she came back from America while she couldn’t for the life of hers. Arthur let out a long exhale through his nostrils before wrapping his arms around her waist again, forehead pressed against forehead and eyes locked together in a tender embrace.
"Listen, little one. I don't care about babies. Don't care about anything in all this fucking world as long as you're by my side. If you can't have children and wanna grieve about it well it’s fine with me, but if you do want one we'll find a way. I promise we’ll find a way.”
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"Arthur told me about you." No matter how patient and calmly she expresses herself, you can't help but feel each of her words like painful razor blades.
Discreetly behind the bar, your grip clenches around the wooden counter for you are convinced your legs wouldn't handle your weight if you let go of it. "Made me curious about this new pretty barmaid, even though the last one ended up dead and cold. Gun wounds in the chest area are pretty deadly. I truly hope you'll last longer."
As you stand there, eyes wide open and face dropping a few shades paler, an overwhelming wave of terror crashes through your body and leaves you petrified. Every muscle tenses, locking you in place as your heart pounds furiously in your chest. You don't know what it is about her — the frozen beauty, the frightening discourse, or the faulty contact in her eyes when she smiles — but it made cold sweat trickle down your spine. . "Oh, eeerr... I—" You try to speak but your brain just doesn't cooperate and your breath remains stuck in your throat. All the confidence you've built these past few weeks is destroyed in one batting of her doe lashes.
She notices it.
Hell, you're so obvious that everybody does.
"Hey," She says, her creepy smile withering and the ice of her iris melting, "I was just messing with you, little Lamb." Nimble, she leans over the bar and reaches for your face, her sly fingers offering you the most gentle caress you've ever felt grazing your skin. Her flesh is cold, smooth like marble, but despite everything the physical contact sends warmth into your soul, and in consequences your body quickly retrieves its ability to move, "I'm sorry, I knew I was terrible at making friends but not that much." The white-haired doll winks before stepping back to give you more space to breath, concluding her sentence with a little candid chuckle.
"Oh no, it's my bad!" You quickly replied, a sense of utter guilt washing over you for having thought she was being a bitch by trying to scare you, "I haven't got much sleep lately and it makes me quite sensitive. You've done nothing wrong." With a grateful exhale, you close your eyes briefly, savoring the sensation of safety as well as the fragrances of her refined perfume that envelop you. A shy smile finally enlightens your face.
"I wish I'd look as pretty as you when I'm sleep-deprived but unfortunately, I turn into a goblin when I don't have my beauty sleep." Her joke sweeps away the remaining tension and snatches genuine amused laughter from you. Heaven finally offers you one last smile before making her way to Arthur, who was sitting further, far too busy talking with John and Finn.
"Hey! Your glass of wine!" You call her.
"It's yours! Cheers, babe." She replies cheerfully, almost singing as she leaves your side.
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You've tried to hate her, you’ve really tried, but you couldn't.
She didn’t make it easy either.
During the same evening, each time you came to the Shelby table to refill their glasses, you ended up quickly distracted from the pain of seeing her all snuggled up against Arthur's chest by how kind and bubbly she was when you were around. Always complimenting you and eager to chat with you — little insignificant and transparent you. So much that a part of you felt horrible at the thought that you have been flirting and planning to get involved with her husband. When they left the pub late at night -or rather early in the morning-, you found a ridiculous amount of money on the table, and under those banknotes was a little bracelet made of daisies, their stems carefully intertwined together by skilled fingers.
Did you wear it? Of course, it was made with love.
In the days that followed this unexpected meeting, Arthur's wife came to the Garrison and always left a homemade something for you to eat since you had told her that you struggled with eating more than one meal a day due to your financial problems. The food wasn't just good, it was certainly the most delicious dishes you had ever tasted. France, they say, has one of the finest gastronomy in the world and you learned the veracity of this statement the best way. It didn't take long for both of you to become friends first, then inseparable after some time.
Alongside this very unexpected friendship, Arthur's demeanor toward you hadn't changed the slightest — which didn't help forgetting about him. Every slight touch, every smile, and every word exchanged made your heart race in your chest the same as before, if not faster.
Lost and torn by the conflicting feelings of a friendship you genuinely cherished and your growing affection for your best friend's husband, you felt like your own reflection in the mirror was judging you. But if there was something you weren’t it was wicked.
Maybe that was why this battle between desire and loyalty had led you to stutter the following statement to the white-haired and crystal-eyed angel:
"Heaven, I'm so sorry. I think I am in love with Arthur."
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Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @justrainandcoffee @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @rysko @red-riding-wood
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