#tommy shelby x bee
Text
The Shelby's
A/N: another installment of Tommy x Bee aka tommy & his darling wife!au. the Shelbys. hope you all are doing well! <;3
warnings: jealous tommy, sexual references, language, not canon, alluding to smut but no smut.
5.5k words.
i take no credit for the gif!
1934
Tommy sat in his office at the betting shop one afternoon, sifting through paperwork. It never seemed to end these days, constant influx of papers from Parliament, things Mr. Churchill wanted his opinion on, speeches to prepare, bills to pay. It never ended. The phone call was a welcome distraction.
“Mr. Shelby? This is Harold Archer, from London,” the voice on the other end of the line said. Tommy could faintly recognize the man's voice. He was an up and coming politician in London society, someone Tommy did not really wish to associate with, but understood it was a necessary evil he would one day have to confront.
“Mr. Archer, what can I do for you?” Tommy asked.
“I wanted to extend my sincerest apologies to you and your wife, Mr. Shelby,” the man began. “We are hosting a dinner and luncheon at our London home. I’m afraid a stack of invitations was missed by our mail carrier and the invitations didn’t get out to a few folks, and unfortunately yours was in that stack,” the man said. Tommy rolled his eyes, fishing a cigarette out of his jacket pocket. “My wife and I would love for you and Mrs. Shelby to attend. It’s next Saturday evening into Sunday afternoon. Accommodations will be provided, of course.” The man droned on.
“I don’t involve my wife with business, Mr. Archer,” Tommy said, trying to get the both of them out of this predicament.
“All of the wives have been invited, Mr. Shelby, my wife does enjoy getting to know them all–more of a social than political arrangement if you will. I am sure your wife would enjoy some time away from your children, no?” Tommy could hear the man chuckle.
“No,” Tommy sighed. “She quite enjoys being a mother,” Tommy could hear Mr. Archer’s breath hitch on the other end of the phone. “But I will discuss it with her and let you know by tomorrow.”
That night, after the children had been kissed goodnight, all monsters scared away from under the bed and in the closets, Tommy breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment with her alone.
Bee curled up next to him on the balcony off their bedroom, on some of the wicker furniture he’d just bought for out there. The spring evening had been warm, the warmth fading with the setting sun.
He wrapped an arm around Bee’s shoulders and she laid her legs over his lap. He absentmindedly rubbed her calf with his free hand, both of them sitting and watching the horses roam the back pasture in silence. Some of the groundsmen returned to their cabins for the evening after a grueling day of cleaning the dreaded pool house. The days were getting progressively warmer, and despite the cold snaps that were so prone to happening this time of year, the children were getting rather tired of being in the house all day. They had just constructed toy boats with Simmons and were eager to send them on their maiden voyage. So–Tommy had instructed the groundsmen to prep the pool.
Tommy cherished moments like this. Not much about his life, his work was quiet. But he always knew he could rely on Bee for moments of solitude and peace. To be comfortable with the silence—not feeling the need to fill the void.
His moment of peace shattered when he remembered—the dreaded dinner.
“What’s on your mind?” His wife asks, noticing his jaw clenching suddenly.
He sighed, shaking his head. “This man from London, Harold Archer,” he rolled his eyes. “Invited us for a dinner and luncheon next Friday into Saturday at his London home. Some big political to-do,” Tommy explained, shifting his attention from her one calf to the other.
“Both of us?” She asks, ears perking.
“Yes,” he sighed.
“Why do you not sound excited about that?”
“You know I don’t like to involve you in business, Darling,” he tells you.
“Yes, but, maybe it would do me some good to get to know some of these people. Get to know their wives,” Bee sighs. “I do get lonely, Thomas.”
He furrows his brow. “You have Sara, and Frances, and the children. And me.”
Bee rolls her eyes. “Thomas, it’s not the same as having a friend.”
“I’m not your friend?” He asks playfully.
“You are my greatest friend, my love, but who can I complain about you to?” She jokes, a cheeky smile on her face.
He brings a dramatic hand to his chest, gripping his heart. “I am hurt, my love,” he tells her playfully. “I am practically perfect, what in bloody hell would you have to complain about?”
She leans over and playfully swats at his chest, laughter rumbling deep in his chest as she rests her head on his shoulder. Their whole lives together, he had never understood Bee’s loneliness. He told her nearly every chance he could that she was all he needed in this world. Her heart had nearly broken when she couldn’t return the sentiment.
Of course, he was all she’d ever need romantically. But socially, she knew she needed friends. Women who understood. But no one really understood. Her or Tommy. Tommy unfortunately had cost Bee most of the friendships she had carried from adolescence into adulthood– and even her family did not understand their deep and unending love for one another, and many friends were either envious or afraid–too afraid to get close.
“Do you really want to go?” He asked, hands covering hers, thumb rubbing gentle circles into the back of her hand.
“I think it might be nice to go,” she tells him, and he realizes he’s lost the battle when he hears that tone of longing in her voice. She looks up at him, and he melts into her eyes.
“Alright, my love. I will phone Mr. Archer tomorrow and tell him that we will be there.”
“Oh, let me call his wife, please!” She says, looking at him, excitement filling her eyes.
And when she looks at him with those eyes—he cannot deny her anything.
The next afternoon Bee phones Mrs. Archer. Her name is Laurel. “Yes, this is Mrs. Shelby,” she says into the phone.
“Oh, my dear I am so sorry your invitation did not get in the mail! I feel so horrible for that oversight. I do hope you’ll forgive me,” she gushes into the phone.
“It’s no trouble, I assure you. Thomas and I will be there for your dinner and luncheon, we are looking forward to it,” Bee tells her, beginning to think of what she should wear.
“Oh, splendid! We will have the rooms ready, don’t worry about a thing,” she says cheerily.
“Mrs. Archer, don’t trouble yourself, separate rooms won’t be necessary,” Bee tell her.
“Don’t be silly, dear, it’s no bother. Looking forward to seeing you!”
And she hung up.
Simmons drove Bee and Thomas to the Archer’s London mansion. “No later than three, Simmons, not a second later,” Tommy told Simmons in regards to their pick up time the next day.
“Yes, Mr. Shelby, I’ll be here by three.” Simmons promised, throwing Bee a smile when Tommy’s back was turned. She smiled, shaking her head in annoyance at her husband.
The butler retrieved their bags from the back of the car, the London home bustling with people. Bee’s heart fluttered in her chest, not used to these sorts of events–nervous that somehow she’d embarrass herself, or worse, embarrass Tommy.
He held his arm out to her and she took it as the two of them were escorted into the house.
The Archer’s were waiting in their foyer, greeting guests as they arrived. “Mr. and Mrs. Shelby!” Mr. Archer beamed. He was an older man, about sixty, bald, with a gray mustache that reminded Bee of Arthur’s. Mrs. Archer had beautiful white hair and the most radiant skin Bee had ever seen. Her eyes were bright. “We are so pleased to have you, welcome to our home.”
“Thank you,” Bee and Tommy say in unison. Tommy clears his throat, slightly embarrassed.
“Right this way to your rooms,” Mrs. Archer said cheerily. Tommy shot Bee a confused look, but she was so busy taking in the beauty of this London house that she didn’t catch it. The hallways were ornately decorated, gilded frames of children, grandchildren, horses, dogs, prizes, meetings with US Senators, Presidents, prominent British families decorated the halls. Bee couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy at how active Mrs. Archer was with her husband's dealings–all the connections she had. Mrs. Archer led the two of them down a hallway, stopping in front of a dark blue door. “Mrs. Shelby, this is your room,” she said delicately, opening the door. “And Mr. Shelby, your room is right across the hall. I’ll have your things brought around directly.”
Not even five minutes into this trip and Tommy had already had enough. “My wife had told you that two rooms won’t be necessary, and that is still the case. One room will be adequate for the two of us,” he said, stepping into the room Mrs. Archer had deemed Bee’s.
Bee blushed, throwing the woman an apologetic smile. “Oh,” Mrs. Archer said, surprised. “I am sorry, Mr. Shelby, I–most couples aren’t that way,” she said, laughing awkwardly.
“Well,” Tommy said from inside the room, eyeing the vaulted ceilings and the huge windows. “We are that way.”
Bee blushed again, embarrassed. “I am sorry, Mrs. Archer, we are very grateful for your hospitality. We’re just a little tired from the trip,” She tried to come up with an additional excuse to give for her husband's poor manners, but, truth be told, that was her husband most of the time. Bee was practically the only one he was never harsh to, and it was something his family reminded her of often, and with much disdain.
“I understand, dear. I will leave you to rest for the evening. Dinner is at seven,” she told them, just as the valet brought the bags to the room.
“I’ll take them,” Tommy said, taking their suitcases from the awkward valet. The valet stood there, eyes wide, hands at his side. “That’ll be all.”
Bee stood by the door as the valet awkwardly left, wringing her hands together. Tommy sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out a cigarette, the tension in his shoulders and jaw visible. “Thomas, are you okay?” She asks, sitting next to him on the bed.
He sighed, bringing the lit cigarette to his lips, tossing his lighter on the bed. “I hate these sorts of things. Hate being in these big crowds of people. Not being able to speak freely. I never feel like I fit in.” he admitted.
He had struggled with a lack of acceptance in his life, in general. From his upbringing and his heritage to his unconventional line of work, a common theme in his life was feeling isolated. Alone. A feeling he had grown accustomed to–a feeling he had allowed to make itself home in his soul, only making room for Bee and his children when the time came.
Bee rubbed gentle circles into his back. He fell backwards on the bed with a dramatic thump. The coils in the mattress squeaked under his weight. Bee giggled, climbing on top of him, pressing kisses to his forehead, nose, cheeks. “I know right where you fit, Thomas,” she tells him cheekily, earning a naughty smirk from him.
“And where is that, Mrs. Shelby?” he asks, hands grabbing onto her bum and squeezing, making her yelp in surprise.
“Right here!” she giggles, putting a hand against her heart.
He let out a thoughtful groan. “I can think of another few places right where I fit, Darling. Shall I show you?” he asked, rolling the two of them so he was on top of her, hips pressing against her.
“Oh, please do,” she nearly moans as he presses a kiss to her lips.
That evening at six thirty, some ladies maids and butlers were sent around to the rooms. There was a knock on their door as Tommy zipped the back of Bee’s dress. A maid let out a startled cry, seeing the two of them in the room together. “Mr. and Mrs. Shelby, I am sorry!” she said, averting her eyes from Bee’s exposed back.
“Oh, it’s no bother,” Bee tells her sweetly as Tommy glides the zipper the rest of the way up, smoothing the fabric over her shoulders gently. The back of the dress dipped down to the middle of her back, revealing the T M S Bee had inked into her shoulder blade a year ago.
The maid gasped at the artwork that adorned her body as Tommy pressed a kiss to her back. “May we be of assistance?” he asked, voice gravely with desire; not turning around, but rather pressing more kisses to the exposed skin of Bee’s shoulders, the back of her neck.
“Just here to help Mrs. Shelby dress, that’s all,” the maid said nervously, unable to divert her eyes from the scene unfolding in front of her.
“I assure you, Mrs. Shelby is in capable hands,” Tommy rasped, subtly dragging his tongue over the top of her shoulder.
“That will be all, thank you,” Bee manages to croak out as Tommy nibbles at the back of her neck. The maid scurries out of the room, closing the door softly. “Thomas, you’re cruel,” she chastises him as he turns to face the two of them in the vanity mirror.
He eyes her in the mirror, hands roaming over the front of her dress, cupping, kneading, caressing. “How?” he asked, hands moving to her back, fingers tracing his initials, inked into her skin.
“Practically seducing me in front of the staff,” Bee blushes, reaching into her jewelry case to retrieve Tommy’s cufflinks.
His eyes are dark as he eyes her, moving back towards him to fasten the cufflinks on his shirt. “Anyone would enjoy watching that,” he tells her, voice deep with lust. “Listening to those fucking sounds you make,” he shakes his head slowly, biting his lip, watching her trying to focus on the task at hand. “You drive me wild,” he whispers, gazing at her–a mixture of lust and adoration in his eyes.
“Thomas, please, you’re making me warm,” she stifled a giggle, an embarrassed smile on her face, cheeks flushing red under his gaze.
“You’re always warm, Darling,” he tells her.
“What’s gotten into you?” she giggled, finishing his other cufflink.
He walks over to his suitcase, where he retrieves a dark black box. “A man can’t show his wife how in love with her he still is? Even after all this time?” He hides the box behind his back. “Close your eyes,” he instructs.
She turns away from him and closes her eyes, giggling. “Thomas, what’d we talk about?”
He smirks, opening the box. “You said no more diamonds, that you had far too many than you could ever wear,” he recounts.
“Yes,” Bee agreed.
“Good thing I listen, hm?” he says, placing the three strand pearl necklace around her neck and fastening it in the back. “Open,” he instructs, and she does, fingers moving to touch the pearls.
“Thomas,” she gasps. “Thomas Shelby!” she turns around to face him, a smug smile on his face. “It’s too much, Thomas,” she tells him, fingers still running over the smooth surface of the pearls. “Thank you.”
He wraps his arms around her from behind, chin resting on her shoulder, eyeing the two of them in the mirror. “Anything for you, my angel.”
And she knew he meant it.
The strands of pearls complimented the dark peach of her dress beautifully, which set off her hair and skin tone in the most enchanting way. It wasn’t a long necklace, the strands laying elegantly at the top of her collarbones.
“You look stunning,” he tells her, peeling himself away from her for a moment to pull his tuxedo jacket over his shoulders, and slide his signet ring on his pinky; his wedding band a staple he never removed.
“You look dashing, Mr. Shelby,” she teases him and he rolls his eyes. “You outshine me, my Darling.”
His sweet words bring to remembrance the first time he’d danced with her, all those years ago, at her grandfather's birthday party. That he had crashed.
“After all this time, hm?” she smiles, straightening his bowtie.
“After all this time,” he agrees.
The dinner bell rings, and they both let out a sigh.
The Shelby’s make their way down the hall, a housemaid guiding them through the various passages and hallways, to a large, open room. “Welcome to cocktail hour, Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” the maid smiles sweetly at them, eyes lingering on Tommy.
“Thank you,” Bee tells her, Tommys hand moving to the small of her back, straightening his posture and widening his shoulders. The maid bats her eyelashes at Tommy, who paid her no mind, eyes canvassing the room. “Are you alright, love?” Bee whispers to her husband, who immediately tensed upon entering the room.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Just hate these fucking things,” he said.
The women seemed to be gathered on one side of the room, the men on the other. “I didn’t know there’d be a cocktail hour,” Bee said, pressing her lips together.
“Let’s go, Darling,” Tommy said as a waiter walked past with a tray of champagne. Tommy grabbed two glasses, handing his wife one.
A man approached Tommy–a man about his age, maybe slightly younger. “Mr. Shelby!” he greets enthusiastically.
“Yes?” Tommy replies, unsure of who this man is, or how he knows of him.
“I’m Hiram Quincy from Manchester,” he introduced himself, eyes sparkling at Bee.
“Oh, yes, I recall seeing you at my oath ceremony,” Tommy told him dully. Bee stifled a giggle. She understood why Thomas got into politics, but sweet-talking with other members of the political realm was not his strong suit. He loathed small talk. Would rather be silent for hours than talk about the weather, tell others menial details about his life, his children, and would rather someone throw all his cigarettes into the punch bowl than divulge information about his wife. She was his.
“Mrs. Shelby!” Laurel Archer spotted her from across the room, and waved her over. Bee gave Tommy an apologetic look before walking over to the crowd of women.
Hiram turned towards Tommy, hands in his pockets, eyeing Bee as she walked away. “What special occasion is this that Thomas Shelby allows his wife to grace us all with her presence?”
Tommy watches as the man's eyes devour his wife, eyes moving up and down her frame. “What the fuck did you just say?” Tommy asked, eyes narrowing at the man.
Hiram pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. “It’s no fucking secret, mate,” he chuckled, the cigarette between his lips. “You keep her locked up in the Shelby fucking Manor for fear of another man getting his sights on her and,” he shook his head, eyeing Bee again. “I can fucking see why,” he lit the cigarette. “She’s a a fucking dream.”
Tommy’s wrath was seconds from spilling over. He angled his body towards Hiram, his back to his wife. “Do you want to fuck my wife, Mr. Quincy?” he asked. The man's eyes widened. Until that moment, Tommy didn’t realize how beady they were.
Bee had her back turned, Tommy’s initials on her skin visible. “You marked her, hm?” Hiram asked, raising his eyebrows at Tommy.
Tommy raised his eyebrows, lighting a cigarette of his own. “She got it for our anniversary last year, actually,”
“How long have you been married to that siren of a woman, Mr. Shelby?”
Tommy could hear the blood furiously pulsing through his body. “Fourteen years.”
“Lucky fucking man,” Hiram ground out. Tommy protectively kept an eye on his wife. It appeared she was having a good time, speaking with the other women.
“The best I can do is offer for you to watch from a chair in the corner while I fuck her,” Tommy lowly told the man. “But I’ll have to take your eyes after we’re finished. No one looks at my wife that way, Mr. Quincy.”
Hiram shot Tommy a cold look as Tommy walked away.
Bee was in comfortable conversation with the women around her. Mary, the wife of an MP from Liverpool had asked dozens of questions about their children. She had beamed with excitement when she had told her of the twins.
“Oh, I’m sure they’re just darlings!” she gushed.
“They are. To me anyway,” she chuckled. “The nanny may have a different opinion.”
A young wife, Madeline, whose husband was an MP from Bedford had hung on every word she said. She had complimented nearly everything Bee wore, and gasped when she saw her tattoo. It was something Bee was proud of–something she’d never in a million years would have thought about before Tommy. But he could be so possessive sometimes. She got it to remind him that no matter what happened, no matter where life took them–she would always be his.
Bee had felt Tommy’s eyes on her all throughout the cocktail hour, protectively keeping watch. She’d caught his eye a few times, and had gently smiled across the room at one another.
“Will you sit next to me during dinner, Mrs. Shelby?” Madeline asked.
Bee smiled gently at her. “Of course, that would be lovely.”
The dinner bell finally rang and Tommy let out a sigh of relief, anxious to be near his wife again. He came alongside her, a hand on the small of her back, already feeling more grounded from just a simple touch. “Madeline,” Bee says sweetly to the young woman standing rather close to them. “This is my husband, Thomas,” Tommy meets the young woman's eyes and is stunned by how incredibly young she is. Maybe nineteen. “Madeline is Mr. Stetfordshire’s wife, from Bedford,'' Bee tells him as he shakes her hand.
“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Stetfordshire,” Tommy says.
“Your wife is wonderful, she’s kept me company this evening. I’m not too good at these social things, you see,” she said bashfully as her husband, easily thirty years her senior approached her.
“Aah!” the man said, “Shelby! I see you’ve met my wife,” the man said, an arm around his wife’s waist.
“Yes, Hugh,” Tommy said. “This is my wife, Bee,” Tommy introduced the two of them.
“We have all heard many things about Mrs. Shelby,” the man said, smirking at Tommy, who fought back a flush that crept up his neck.
“We’ll sit next to them tonight,” Madeline said, flashing her husband a pleading look.
“Of course, of course,” her husband said, giving her a sympathetic look.
The first course went smoothly enough, Tommy’s hand on Bee’s thigh whenever he wasn’t actively engaged in eating his dinner. It was something she’d gotten used to, really. Him always touching her, always wanting to be near–to know she was there. To feel that she was there, even though he could see her.
“Mr. Shelby,” Hiram bellowed from another end of the table they were seated at. “Tell us of your background, what interested you in politics.”
Tommy took a sip of his whiskey and cleared his throat. “I am Romani,” he started off with, earning several raised eyebrows from around the table. “We grew up very poor, being travelers, and I would like to see the world a little better–different for those after me who are in situations similar to the one I grew up in,” he said truthfully, one of the more transparent things he’d said in front of a group of people. That much was true, Bee knew, and her heart softened at the goodness that lived in this man. This man she loves–this man she would do anything for.
Hiram chuckled. “A Gypsy, hm? Bee, really, what did you see in him?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “He’s a war veteran,” she says, tone firm. “He was a Sergeant Major in the tunnels in France. He was at the Somme and Mons,” she told them, their eyes flashing sympathetic. “He saved me from being raped not long after we first met. He’s a wonderful father. A protective brother and uncle. There’s a lot I see in him. Not that it’s any of your business, but if you’re interested I could easily spend hours telling all of you of what I see in Thomas Shelby.”
Tommy’s eyes dropped to his hands in his lap, a wave of emotion overtaking him. The pride she had in him. The pride that she had to be his. Unashamedly and unabashedly. Bee literally wore him on her body and would scream it from the rooftops of Buckingham Palace that he was yours if he asked her to. He reached for her hand, smiling softly at her as the table fell silent, Hiram’s face falling.
Anger poured from Bee–anger at this assumption that her husband wasn’t worthy of love. Wasn’t worthy of her love, of this life he’d built. Tommy’s thumb stroked gently on the back of her hand, drawing her from her angered state.
The evening ended with a nightcap in the library, which was the most impressive home library either of them had ever seen. Madeline didn’t leave Bee’s side, almost like a lost puppy. At the end of the evening, as Bee made her way back to her room with Tommy, and Madeline with Hugh, she looked at Bee with a heartbroken expression.
“I would give anything for a man to look at me the way Mr. Shelby looks at you, Bee,” Hugh caught up to her and escorted her to her room.
“Goodnight, Dear!” Bee calls after her. Madeline threw her a smile over her shoulder as Tommy came up behind Bee, opening the door.
Tommy opened their room door, letting Bee in before closing it gently behind the two of them, securing the lock in place.
Bee sinks into the vanity bench, mind and body ready for sleep. “These things are exhausting,” she says, slipping her shoes off.
“Tell me about it,” he ground out, shrugging his jacket off his shoulders, lying it neatly across the dresser top. “All I heard about all evening is how many men want to fuck my wife,” he said, angrily tugging his bowtie free from his neck.
Bee turned around to face him. “What?” she asked in shock.
He scoffed. “Oh don’t act like you don’t know, Darling.”
“I don’t!” she tells him, mouth open in shock. “What on earth do you mean?”
He unclasps his cufflinks. “This is why I can’t bring you to these things because everyone,” he throws them down on the nightstand with a clang. “Wants to know about you,” he says, toeing off his shoes next. “Wants to talk about you,” he removes his braces from his shoulders. “Wants to know why I keep you locked up in a castle in Birmingham to rot away, while you make me out to be some hero at dinner. Here I am a jailer.”
Bee eyes him in the mirror. “Thomas,” she says softly. She gets up and walks over to him as he nearly rips his sleeve garters from his arms. “Thomas,” she holds his face in her hands and he sighs. “Look at me,” she tells him sweetly when he doesn’t meet her gaze. “I love you,” his hands grip her wrists. “They don’t know about us,” she tells him. “They don’t need to know everything. They just need to know that I am yours and you are mine.”
They undressed each other quickly, desperate to touch one another, feel one another, after a long night of longing looks from across an unfamiliar room. She was panting beneath him when he dragged his thumb over her lower lip and rasped, “Don’t you dare be quiet tonight. I want them all to fucking hear you. Hear you say you are fucking mine.”
She obeyed.
Bee fell asleep in his arms while he laid awake, observing every inch of her body as she slept. He ran gentle fingertips up and down her body, watching in amusement as goosebumps rippled in his touch's wake.
During the night she rolled over, the dim candlelight from his nightstand illuminating his initials on her back. He pressed a sleepy kiss to the ink. He rehearsed in his mind all the sweet things she’d whispered, moaned, cried into his ear when he made love to her. How worthy she made him feel. How loved. Treasured. Respected. Adored. Cherished. Feelings he’d never felt before. Never felt free to feel before.
His father had drunk to forget how he felt, allowing only anger to be the driving emotion in his life–something Tommy and all his brothers wore scars both physically and emotionally from. His mother felt everything deeply–something Tommy was afraid he and Arthur inherited. His father made them feel ashamed for feeling any extreme emotion.
Tommy remembered when he was five, his favorite horse fell lame and had to be shot, something a boy of his age was not prepared to hear, let alone see. He had run to cry in his mothers chest, terrified of the horror his father had inflicted on his favorite animal. His mother tried to soothe him, rubbing his back, rocking him gently in her lap. His father wandered in later, drunk and angry, pulling Tommy from his mothers lap. He screamed in his face, Tommy not remembering most of what he had said, half asleep and still terrified.
It wasn’t until he found Bee that he could feel safe again. She was his hiding place, his refuge. The one he could always run to. The first time he’d cried in front of her he’d been beyond embarrassed. But she held him and kissed every inch of skin she could get her lips on. He shook, body overwhelmed from exhaustion and pent up emotion, and she held him together in her arms.
When she woke up the next morning, she smiled at him and he looked at her with all the love and tenderness he could muster. “My lighthouse,” he whispered. “I was lost. Drowning. You saved me with your light,” he pressed kisses to her collarbones.
“Mr. Shelby, waxing poetic this morning, hm?” she asked as he moved atop her.
“I think when I’m old, I’ll write poems for you. That way you can read them when I’m dead and you’re missing me,” he said, half jokingly, half serious.
“Thomas!” she scolded, playfully swatting at his bum.
“Darling, the chances of us both dying at precisely the same time are terribly slim,” he said.
“But that’s how I want it to happen,” she said, eyes wide.
“I know, my darling, but that is the risk you run I suppose when you marry a man ten years your senior,” he told her, dropping to his forearms above her, his forehead against hers.
“Old man,” she giggled playfully, kissing him, her hands in his hair.
“Old man who knows what the fuck he’s doing, eh?” he smirked into the kiss, grinding his hips against hers.
“Oh yes,” she moaned as he made love to her again… for the first (and not only) time that day.
The Shelby’s skipped breakfast entirely, too wrapped up in one another to care that their bellies rumbled with hunger. They decided to prepare themselves for the luncheon and for their departure.
“Are you ready for your shadow to return?” Tommy asked with a small smile as he tied his tie.
“What do you mean?” Bee asked, selecting her jewelry.
“That young woman from dinner last night. She practically followed you everywhere.”
“She needs a friend, Thomas. And so do I,” Bee said, not meeting his eyes.
“Alright, my love, I’m sorry,” he came up behind her and pressed a kiss to her neck. “I do think her husband was rather old for her,” he said, hands resting on her belly, chin on her shoulder.
“Yes, it’s unfortunate but I do think they care for one another,” Bee said, reaching for her bottle of perfume.
Tommy stepped back as she misted herself with her perfume, the one he loved, the one that drove him wild. He admired her. Her grace, her elegance. And in that moment his heart swelled with gratitude that he was able to marry for love. Not forced to out of convenience, not trapped in a loveless one, bound only by the children they’d brought into the world. But for love.
They managed to emerge from their room a decent amount of time before lunch was scheduled to begin. Madeline caught Bee’s attention almost immediately. “Oh, are you feeling alright? We missed you both at breakfast,” Madeline smiled kindly at both of them.
“Nonsense,” another wife, Carol? Anne? Bee couldn’t remember, commented. “We all heard them last night. It’s ridiculous! This is a sophisticated party and they fuck like animals. Hmph!” she turned her nose up at Bee. Who smirked.
“At least my husband fucks me,” Bee smirked before walking towards the appetizer table, rather pleased with herself.
“Well! Most couples aren’t that way!” The goody-two-shoes wife said, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
“Well,” Bee shrugged. “The Shelby’s are.”
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Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby
masterlist
summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu
pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby
words: 1.6k
a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)
How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.
‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.
‘Please tell me you are joking…’
‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.
‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.
‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’
‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’
‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’
‘You too.’
Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.
Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.
‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’
‘No.’
‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.
Helena hummed in response.
‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’
‘I do.’
‘Something else perhaps?’
‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’
‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’
Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’
‘And did you?’
‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’
‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.
‘I like chocolate.’
‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’
‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’
‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’
Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.
‘What about your father, Helena?’
‘What about him?’
‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.
Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’
‘Why not?’
‘Family business…’
‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’
‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’
‘How sweet.’
With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.
With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.
‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.
Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’
Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.
‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’
‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’
The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.
‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’
The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.
You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.
‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.
‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’
‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.
‘Sometimes.’
‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’
Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…
‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’
‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.
‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’
Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’
‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.
‘Thank you again.’
‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’
‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’
‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’
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Mercy (Part 2)
Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader
Word Count: +3,576
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Murder, Mentions of past character death, Gore, Physical violence, Forced intrusion, Humiliation.
Author's note(s): Going to try and write more. Been a busy bee recently.
Tommy knew your parents would be looking for you. He needed to bring you somewhere no one would suspect. Not even his family. They'd given him space to mourn for Ruby. As they all did. Tommy had kept them oblivious to the underground war. This was between him and your clan. He owns a plot of land near the countryside. It's half an hour away from the city, far enough so that no one would follow.
He used to bring the children out here during the summer. What was once a special place in his heart, became a haunting reminder of what life could've been. He would've kept you in town had it not been for the constant eyes and ears. For now, it was best that you'd stay here until he's sorted everything out. It was decided, this would be your new home until further notice. But he doesn't want to make this comfortable in any way. You weren't a hostage--no, his property.
He can do whatever the fuck he pleases, because this version of Tommy, had no limitations. He clicks the trunk open, reaches in to grab your quivering form. He drags you out of the car, hauling your weak body over his shoulder. He effortlessly carries you to the hideout. It's a small shed, located right in the backyard of his summer home. Tommy kicks the door open. Almost ripping it from the hinges. As soon as you were inside he lets you fall with a 'thud'. Your head is throbbing. You couldn't see anything in the darkness. Only the silhouette of the man who had taken you.
As soon as you spot the gangster, the first thing you do is crawl back, holding both hands in front, and plead, "Please...please let me go, I-I promise I won't tell...j-just--please," your throat was sore from the hours of screaming, crying, begging for mercy. Your pleas were deaf to Tommy's ears. He stands there, stating back at your quivering form. There wasn't an ounce left in him that felt bad. To him, you were only collateral. An eye for an eye.
His presence is enough to intimidate anyone. You don't bother looking at him in the eyes, afraid of being trapped under his gaze. There are two rules you were taught about gangsters: The first rule was to never go near one, the second was to never look one in the eyes. Not unless you were looking for a fight.
He steps forward, enjoying the sight of you cowering in fear. His eyes are as cold as ice You sob, "P-please god..."
Tommy raises his brows, “God?” he scoffs, “You think it was him that led you here?” he shook his head, "No, it was me, I ordered them to take you, because I can," a long pause follows, "You were picked up from church, yeah? So tell me, what did you pray for?"
"T-to...to find a good man," your teeth chatter. His grin doesn't reach his eyes, "And that led you to me," he chuckles. Your parents kept you sheltered from the big-bad gangsters of the city. But little did you know you were raised by one. The irony of it all. Poor thing, you never imagined being taken, especially not by someone like himself.
He crouches down, "Tell me...what will you pray for now, hm? For someone to save you?" he taunts. His hand hovers to your collar, wrapping itself around your neck. He gives it a slight squeeze, "Tell me, what will you do if I were to bend you over right now?"
Tommy wants to break you. He wants to break your mind, your body, your soul. He wants to break the little faith you have left, and from that he'll build you to his liking. You would be his obedient pet. You answer, "Nothing..." blinking back tears. His thumb swipes a tear, "Good, you're a fast learner," he pats your head, brushing a few strands from your face.
He wants to make it clear, "I own your body now, I own you," he stands up, "From now on this will be your new home, you can forget about your old life," he then retrieves his watch, inspecting the time. He shuts it, shoving it into his coat pocket before leaving. Tommy ignores your cries, "Please...don't leave me here! Mr. Shelby! Please!"
Even in your condition, you still manage to limp. You try to reach for the door. Before you could make it, Tommy slams it shut. He locks it from the other side. Both your fists bang at the door, "I've done nothing wrong! Please! Don't leave me here!" falling against it as a deep sob escapes your throat. Tommy knows it was useless to yell. There would be no one from miles around.
Tommy and his men left for the city. When he spots a river on the roadside. He decides that now would be the best time to confront them. See, nothing with Tommy Shelby was a mere coincidence. He had chosen these men specifically, after finding out they'd stolen from his company. So, he makes it work in his favor. Two birds with one stone.
Tommy had been waiting for the right moment to finish off the traitors. First he orders them take the girl, then he'll take out those thieving bastards. Any witness statements would be useless with Tommy left as the only living suspect. All for a crime that may or may not have occurred. According to his story, Tommy had been in the office at the time of your disappearance. No one else could object to that. He knows that his family would be there to defend him.
He orders his men to park on the side of the road for a quick smoke break. He made sure to count how many of them had exited the vehicle. He doesn't light up his cigarette until he's sure all them were present. Only then does he lights up his cigarette. He distracts them with a tale. All of the men now rest on the side of the road. One of the men jokes about how they should share Tommy's new pet.
He doesn't take too kindly to that idea. It was at that moment when he returns to the car. When the men least expect it, he fires a round of stray bullets. He stares coldly as their lifeless bodies drop to the floor. Tommy dumps them into the river, returning to the city alone.
He made sure to avoid any suspicion by returning to his office. Acting as if nothing had happened. Word will spread, and the last thing he needs is his family breathing down his neck. He rummages through the office, finding any work to complete. As soon as he sits down, he can't help but smile. He thinks about how easy it was to bend you into submission. Had your parents really not prepare you for this?
Tommy remembers your first ever encounter. It was in your father's office just a few months ago. You unknowingly barged into the room with a tray in hand. Completely oblivious to what was happening. You were only focused on serving the men tea. A word he would use to describe you is obedient, submissive. Something he wouldn't mind having a taste of.
As soon as your father spots you, he halts everything. He cuts the meeting short to drag you out. No daughter of his would be caught in the same room as a gangster. He'll be damned if he lets a dirty peaky near her. Poor thing, you assumed it was your fault. Barging in while the men were at work, completely oblivious to the true nature of their meetup. He swore you were taunting him with that innocent look.
You still thought he, Tommy Shelby, was worth saving. You begged him not to do it, as if he were some fucking saint. That made it all the more worthwhile as he filled your cunt to the brim. He fucked you full of his filthy gangster seed. Until there was a small puddle of cum and crimson dripping from both holes. He had left a trail of bruises that littered your unblemished skin. He bit, teased, and bruised wherever he could reach. Who was there to stop him?
Tommy palms the growing tent in his pants. He relishes in the remembrance. He could still feel your nails digging into his skin. On his wrist, all over his chest and back. How you tried to fend him off. But in the end it was useless. He's a former veteran and you're just a spoiled heiress. A hand grazes on the small cut on his cheek you'd given him earlier, he'll make sure you pay for that dearly.
He's going to enjoy feeling of your tight cunt again. How you were squeezing his girth, almost as if it were on purpose. Your choked sobs for him to stop, as he darted his tongue out to taste those fresh tears. When your whimpers would change depending on how fast and hard he'd thrust his hips. How his nails dug into the flesh of those soft, supple hips, leaving small crescent cuts. And oh, how he loved to hear you scream.
Your whimpers were music to his ears. Like a melody he wanted to play over and over again. Fuck…he'll have to plan another trip to the countryside, and soon. You gave him a sense of power, immunity. Something that Tommy hadn't felt in long time. Not since losing his Ruby. He became a shell of the man he once was. Never in his life had he felt so weak, so hopeless. Lost.
But now? Your parents won't even think about touching him. This would be a secret kept between him and the other clan. His family doesn't have to know. If your parents decide to try anything, he'll make sure to send them more than just a napkin.
You couldn't sleep that night. Despite each hour feeling longer than the next. How could you after what happened? You felt as though your sanity were slipping away. Most of the night would be spent either attempting to break the door open or crying to yourself. Both of your fists went numb from the hours spent slamming them against wood.
There were visible blisters that littered your hands. Small droplets of crimson from the open wounds. Faint scratch marks decorate the door. It didn't help being the dead of winter, only adding more pain to your bruising. You wince from the cold, dry air seeping into the open wounds. Still, it wasn't comparable to what he had done.
A deep feeling of dread starts to sink in. Suddenly realizing the weight of what had happened. You were kidnapped, assaulted, paraded by one of the worst criminals in all Birmingham. The worst part was it only took him a few hours to break you. That man, that...gangster, had taken your virginity. How on earth were you going to tell your parents? Did anyone else know? If so, it would ruin any chance of ever finding a good husband. This wasn't just any gangster, he's the worst of them all. A Peaky Blinder.
You began to tear up. Something like this would break their hearts. There were many stories passed around of young women being victims of bridal kidnapping. They would escape their abductors and return home. Only to be sent back by their own family. These poor women would have no other choice but to marry their abductors. Although both of your parents were traditional, surely, they wouldn't do the same thing...would they? A wave of dread starts to flood your nerves. Deep down, you were too afraid to find out.
You try switching positions until you find one that was comfortable enough to lay in. Now splayed against the cold hard ground. It hurts too much to sit up. Your throat is sore from the hours of abuse. You were much too tired to yell, the dreaded thought of his return consumed all senses. You could only sit in silence, trying your best not to think of anything to stop crying. A part of you was certain that there were no tears left in you to spill.
Suddenly, the door opens. You scurry as far away from the entrance as possible. As soon as he enters there's a powerful aura in the air. He reeked of danger. You refuse to look at him, not out of defiance but out of fear. For the first time in your life, you were genuinely terrified. Your eyes are focused on the floor as your body crumples into submission. Each step he takes his powerful, echoing throughout the shed. His feet were settled on the spot where you were staring. There was something in his hand. You couldn’t tell what it was until he placed it on the ground.
It was a plate of sludge-like food. Something that was half thought of, with a cup of water on the side. Your mouth starts to water at the sight. It had been almost two days since you’ve eaten anything. Tommy wanted to make sure you were still alive. Otherwise, the deal would be off with your parents. You could only focus on the plate on the floor, tuning everything else out. All attention went to the dish. He says something but you don't quite catch what it was.
Suddenly a hand grips your hair, pulling it into a tight hold. You whine from the pain, both hands shooting up to where his wrist was. As much as you tried to pry his fingers off, it was futile trying to remove the iron hold. He's a retired soldier, a decorated war veteran. You were only an heiress, sheltered from all worldly dangers. You look up at him with pleading eyes, now sheer with fresh tears, "P-please..." begging for him to stop. His grip tightens, "What did I say about speaking?" your pained expression doesn't falter him, not one bit.
“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in, so let me refresh your memory,” he tugs until you're forced to look him in the eyes. He growls, “I own you, mind, body, soul, every part,” he reaches for your neck, giving it a squeeze. He dips his fingers in your mouth, gripping the inside to pry it open, "This is mine to use," he pulls you up by the arm with little effort, his other hand finds its way in between both legs. When your hands try to shoo it away the grip around your neck tightens. He reaches in between your legs, rubbing up and down the clothed slit, "This cunt...mine,"
You shook your head vigorously, tearing up at his remark. He clicks his tongue, "Sh...sh... that's not gonna help you," both his hand hold the sides of your head. It felt like you were suffocating in his embrace. He looks you in the eyes, “The life you once had is gone now,” which only twists the knife deeper, “I own you, every part of you,” his hands glide from your neck down to your bare shoulders.
Tommy gives them a light shove, just enough to send you to your knees. His hands retreat to his belt, unfastening the buckle before letting his pants slide down. He wants to start training as soon as possible, “I’m going to break you...bend you in my own image,” Tommy doesn’t waste any time releasing his manhood from its bindings.
He tugs it a few times, enjoying the petrified look on your face. To say he enjoyed it was an understatement. Tommy took joy in watching you break. He couldn’t help but smirk as soon as the tears began to spill. He pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling you to face his leaking member.
He taps the tip of his cock against your cheek, enjoying the way you try to retreat. He pulls back his coat, revealing a gun resting in its holster. A warning of what would happen should you fight him. You shut your eyes, imagining being anywhere else but here. You force your lips to part. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust. He starts bucking his hips back and forth. He hisses, trying to find the right angle, "M'gonna cum...gonna shoot a fat load down your throat...want you to feel it in your fucking stomach,’
Tommy fastens his pace, he’s close. So, fucking close. Hearing your muffled cries was music to his ears. Then it came, Tommy presses his cock deep inside, holding your head in place as he quickens his thrusts. Sweat collects on his forehead despite the cold weather. When he retrieves his cock a small trickle of cum and spit escapes. You cough out his spunk still trapped in your throat. A small puddle forms on the ground, right between his feet. He had been enjoying this a bit too much, "You'll have to practice on that mouth of yours," he teases.
But that wasn’t the end of it, no. Shortly after Tommy decided that another round was due. Then another, and another. He ignored every muffled cry that escapes your lips. He wanted to paint you with it. No, he wants to drown you in his seed until you're thanking him.
Five, five rounds of Tommy fucking your mouth. Each round ending in him cumming on a new place. He had emptied load after load, making sure to paint you with it. There was spunk all over your hair and face. It was repulsing, being covered in a stranger's finish. After a while he lets you rest. When you notice him retrieving his discarded coat, you sigh with relief. It was finally over. Your emotions get the best of you, crying not from the abuse, but that it was finally over.
Then Tommy does the unimaginable. He strides over to your plate. Jerking off his cock before finishing the sixth round on the food. He tucks himself in now satisfied with the work done, "Eat up," he says before leaving you alone in the cold darkness. You of all people should know by now, Tommy's cruelness had no limits.
While you were gone, your home had changed for the worse. During the past few days, what was once a warm-felt home became a mourning ground. Your mother had spent most of her free time was at the window seat, praying for your return. What was once a home filled with laughter and joy became a cold reminder that you were gone. Taken from her safe arms. A part of her regrets ever leaving your side. If only she weren't so busy entertaining others. Then maybe her sweet girl would still be here.
She sniffles, pressing a hand against the cold glass. She blames herself for not looking after you, her pride and joy. Ever since you were taken, she had barely slept or eaten. It began to worry the maids, who then informed your father. She could still her you calling for her. It had been carved into her mind, and killed her not being able to do a thing about it. Why? Why did this have to happen to you? More tears spill, flowing down her cheeks.
Your father couldn't stand the sight of his dear wife's tears. He could barely sleep knowing that he was the reason behind it. All because of his lineage. He had tried his best at hiding a double life. He never wanted to drag his girls into this. Your father tried his best to hide it, he really did. Your mother was the preacher's daughter, who unknowingly married a gangster. Naïve and innocent to the evils of this world until she met him.
He places a chaste kiss on her forehead, "Don't worry my diamond," wiping away the fresh tears, "I promise you, I'll bring our girl back..." he leaves her for his 'office', where the men await for his orders. Unlike his wife, he isn't as forgiving. He had gouged out an eye from the man in charge of keeping an eye on you. But after receiving Tommy's message, he made sure to plant a bullet right in between the man's empty sockets.
If it's a war the Shelby brother wants, it's a war he'll have.
After washing the blood from his hands and face, he makes his way to the bedroom. His wife is still perched on the seat of the window frame, staring longingly outside. He accompanies her, now sat besides her. He's guilt ridden. She whispers something he doesn't quite catch, until another mumble escapes her lips, "My fault..."
how? How on earth could someone as precious as his diamond do any wrong?
"I c-can't forgive myself for--"
"No, no my love, this isn't your fault..." He pulls her into his arms, rubbing small circles into her back. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, holding her closely. He'll tear this city apart if it meant finding you. This is a city plagued and ruled by gangsters. You of all people didn't deserve it and he has only himself to blame. Whatever that sick bastard had done he promise to do worse. Until he's begging to be put out of his misery.
But what the mobster doesn't know, is that Tommy Shelby yearns for sweet death.
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You Can’t Change Fate (Dark!Thomas Shelby x reader)
Summary: you had thought that it was just another boring party that you and your family had been invited to. Turns out that the Powers That Be had other plans for you...
Author’s Note: written for @runnning-outof-time 3K writing celebration!!! I chose the prompt ‘we can’t keep meeting each other like this’ and me being me of course went down the dark route.
Warnings: dark fic, forced marriage, stalking
Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshitsfenharel, @lenaskyler02, @elenavampire21, @swordofawriter, @zablife, @cillmequick, @polishcrazyone
Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine
Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee
The sound of bees buzzing around the garden was a pleasant sound. You used to be frightened of the insects but now that you had grown up you had come to see how important they are. You inhaled deeply and smiled at the scent of honeysuckle, a scent you had always loved. You took a sip of your lemonade as you continued to walk around the beautiful garden. You had finally managed to escape the watchful eye of your mother and you were thankful for the brief moment you had by yourself.
“We can’t keep meeting each other like this.”
You grimaced at the sound of the familiar voice. You took another sip of your lemonade and winced. It didn’t seem as sweet as the first time. You continued your walk, brushing a hand against the flowers and said,
“How are you enjoying the party Mr Shelby? Didn’t think that this was really your sort of scene.”
“I was invited,” he said, coming to stand next to you, “It would’ve been rude to not come.”
“Never stopped you before.”
The skirts of your dress whipped around your ankles as you tried to get away from Thomas Shelby. However, like always, he was persistent. He followed just behind you, seeming to admire the flowers. He seemed rather out of place in the bright garden. He was dressed in dark colours and stood out amongst the colourful flowers. You could faintly hear the party going on in the background and part of you thought you should return. However, the idea of going back to your mother and father was enough to make you stay put.
“Do you know the reason for this party?” Tommy asked eventually
“I never knew that there needed to be one,” you replied, “The world is such a shi- horrible place at the moment. Why can’t we have a bit of fun?”
The corners of Tommy’s lips twitched at your almost use of foul language. You parents hadn’t raised you to swear and yet the odd words managed to still slip through.
“I heard,” Tommy’s voice was soft and yet chills ran down your spine, “That someone was getting engaged.”
“Engaged,” you frowned, “I wonder who that would be. Anna? Elizabeth. Or maybe-“
“You.”
You froze, glass just touching your lips. You slowly lowered it and a bead of icy condensation ran down the glass and trickled down your wrist. How could this happen? Your mother had told you that when she and you father found someone for you to marry that you would be informed. This wasn’t meant to happen.
“So,” you said weakly, “Mother had finally found someone. The least she could do was inform me before this charade.”
You walked around the garden. It really was beautiful. You hoped that whoever you ended up marrying would have a garden as beautiful as this. Or if they didn’t, you would be able to help create one. Your own private world to escape into.
“I assume it would be Lord Paisley,” you said, “Mother was always close to his parents. She had… mentioned him several times.”
Tommy laughed at the name and you turned to glare at him. It wasn’t a warm laugh filled with humour most people would associate with the sound. It was cold and mocking and you felt your cheeks get hot with embarrassment and you felt like you were missing something important. You shifted awkwardly and Tommy said,
“I thought you’d find him a bore.”
“He is,” you said sharply, “But he’s reliable. I know where he would be at night.”
‘I would know how to manipulate him.’ You thought
“Meaning?”
“He wouldn’t be running of with anything in a skirt and coming back smelling like cheap perfume.”
“Then it’s a shame you won’t be marrying him.”
You stiffened as Tommy pressed his chest against your back, his hands firmly placed on your shoulders. When you tried to move away he gripped them tightly causing you to wince.
“What did you do?” you said desperately
“Me? Nothing.”
“You must’ve.”
“I appealed to your father’s better nature.”
“He doesn’t have one.”
Tommy’s nose brushed against your cheek. It was an intimate gesture and one that made your blood. You tried to break free from his grip but Tommy held on tightly. You struggled for a moment longer but when Tommy dug his fingers against your shoulders, you slumped against him.
“What did you offer him?” you asked weakly
“Offer who what?”
“My father.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is to me! I’m tired of being treated like a piece of meat.”
Tommy spun you around and leant in close, his nose brushing against yours. Your breath hitched and he said,
“You don’t have to worry because he won’t be around long enough to enjoy it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re intelligent,” Tommy said, “I’m sure you can figure that out.”
“And what about me?” you sked, “Once you got what you want from my family what’ll you do to me? Dispose of me to?”
“Love,” Tommy’s breath ghosted over your face, “You still don’t understand.”
“Understand?”
Tommy sighed and closed his eyes.
“I’d already have everything I want,” he said, “You.”
“Me?”
“Yes and if you really think that after all the work I put in getting you that I’d let you go so easily.”
You froze as Tommy moved to cup your cheeks. He brushed his thumbs against your cheekbones and leant to press a surprisingly gentle kiss against your lips. You didn’t expect such a soft gesture from someone with so much blood on his hands. You remained frozen in place and he said,
“We should return to our guests. It’s rude to keep them waiting.”
As Tommy linked his arm with yours and led you through the once beautiful flower garden. As the bees buzzed around you, you found the sound too loud. The scent of the honeysuckle filled your nostrils and you found it too sweet.
You hated the smell of honeysuckle.
The scent you lost your freedom to.
#fanfiction#Peaky Blinders#reader insert#thomas shelby#Tommy Shelby#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#dark
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As Good A Place As Any | Tommy Shelby x Reader
Request: no - for @notyour-valentine ‘s 1K follower celebration
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: (Y/N) finds the perfect time to share some news she's been keeping secret for some time now.
Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of a miscarriage
Word Count: 3388
A/N: I’m sorry that it’s a bit late, but I just had to jump in on this amazing celebration that you were having, Val. I chose to go with ‘a reveal’ and I’ve also decided to set it within one of those fancy parties that the Shelbys throw. I hope you like it. Congrats again on 1K! Enjoy! :)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
———
"Your dress, Mrs. Shelby," Mary announced as she entered the room that the woman of the house used as an overflow closet and a space to get ready in. (Y/N) smiled widely as she saw the garment bag. She was overly eager to wear this certain dress, after having it made a few weeks ago.
"Have you seen it, Mary?" she asked the head-maid, her hands clasped together in front of her.
"I have not," Mary responded with a slight shake of her head, "but I am sure that it is gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," she added while smiling.
"Will you help me put it on?" the younger woman then asked, a hopeful look in her eyes.
"Of course," she smiled, laying the bag out on the empty chaise lounge that was placed in the corner next to (Y/N)'s vanity.
(Y/N) swung her legs around the side of the bench she was sitting on so that her full attention could be on the reveal of the dress. Mary looked back at her and waited for the nod before she unzipped the bag to show its contents. (Y/N) just about gasped when she saw the cream-colored gown that she had custom made for this occasion. She then stood up and moved over to the lounge as Mary removed the garment and held it up for a better view. After untying her dressing robe, she giddily stepped into the gown and allowed Mary to bring it up around her body.
Once she was properly wearing the dress, (Y/N) stepped over to the floor length mirror that stood next to her vanity. She quietly looked over her figure, loving how the dress was hugging her body. It reminded her a lot of the dress that Polly had decided to wear for her portrait; the designers had done a fine job at that aspect. The only differences were that the design varied slightly — the biggest missing piece being the feather on the chest, and that the color was different than the one the Shelby family's matriarch wore. She loved how the straps hung over her upper arms like sashes, and that the neckline accentuated her body in a flattering manner while still being tastefully modest.
"Can I help you with your hair, Mrs. Shelby?" Mary asked from behind her, breaking her out of her own thoughts.
"If you don't mind, Mary," (Y/N) answered while turning to face the older woman with a smile.
"Not at all," Mary smiled back as they both moved over to the vanity.
A comfortable silence fell between them then as Mary started working on (Y/N)'s hair. (Y/N) watched through the mirror with a small smile playing on her lips. Mary most certainly knew what hairstyle would work the best with the dress she was wearing, so she put all of her trust into the older woman.
"Are you going to tell him tonight, Mrs. Shelby?" Mary asked after several minutes had passed. She was almost finished with what she was doing, which meant it was almost time for (Y/N) to get into the car and go to the event. She'd meet up with her husband, Tommy, there because he needed to leave early and ensure that the last minute preparations were finished.
"I think I am, Mary," (Y/N) answered, the nerves apparent in her voice.
"I think he'll be overjoyed with it," the older woman said, recognizing the nerves right away. She hoped that her statement would serve to quell some of them.
"You think?" (Y/N) had a hopeful tone in her voice now.
"Oh yes," Mary nodded, "you've both been waiting long for this."
"I don't know what I would have done if you wouldn't have been here when I got the call," (Y/N) stated, thinking back to the day when she'd received the news.
"I'm sure you would have been fine, love," the older woman smiled at her through the mirror. "All finished," she said then, finally dropping her hands from (Y/N)'s hair, "you're ready to go, Mrs. Shelby."
"It's gorgeous, Mary. I love it," (Y/N)'s smile widened as she took in her final look, "thank you so much," she said as she turned around to look at her.
"You're welcome, Mrs. Shelby," Mary smiled, clasping her hands together in front of her body. "I always enjoy getting to help you."
"I think I'm about ready now," (Y/N) commented as she stood from the vanity's chair and took another look at herself in the full length mirror.
"Shall I help you to your car?" Mary asked and (Y/N) nodded, making sure to grab the small clutch she'd be bringing with her before she walked to the door of the room with Mary following behind her.
She eased herself into the backseat of the car that was waiting outside and waved to Mary before the driver began their trip to the venue where the charity event was being held.
——
The driver helped (Y/N) up the steps and to the door of the venue before wishing her a good night. (Y/N) smiled at him and thanked him for his service. Once she was by herself, she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. These big events were just starting to feel normal to her again. It had taken her a bit to get back into wanting to attend them after the unexpected happened to her and Tommy at one a little over a year ago. Thankfully this one was a smaller, more intimate affair, so she didn't need to worry as much about the possibility of something going on.
The first person that caught her eye was Polly. She was talking to a man and a woman, who seemed to be the man’s wife. She made her way over to the small group while greeting every person she passed. She was one of the event's hosts after all...it'd be rather rude to just ignore the other party goers.
"(Y/N)!" Polly greeted in an enthusiastic manner when she approached them, "you've made it!" (Y/N) smiled as she hugged the older woman. It was obvious that she'd also upped her host role, because Polly Gray was never that enthusiastic to see people when in private. It worked for the setting though, so (Y/N) played along.
"I figured why not be slightly fashionably late...there's no harm in that, right?" (Y/N) responded, laughing along with the rest of the group.
"No harm at all," the other woman in the group chimed in amidst the laughter.
"Your dress is stunning," Polly commented then once the laughs had ceased.
"You like it?" (Y/N) asked with a wide smile, "does it look familiar?"
"It does," Polly grinned. "I love how it turned out."
"Me too," (Y/N) agreed, glancing down at her dress again, "thank you again for letting me use the idea and run with it," she said then, calling back to the conversation they'd had a few weeks ago. (Y/N) loved the dress that Polly wore for her portrait so much that she wanted to get one along the same lines of it custom-made for this occasion.
"You've really taken it to the next level," Polly commented, her words making (Y/N)'s smile grow even wider, if that was possible.
"You're too sweet, Pol," (Y/N) gushed before realizing that the man and woman that Polly was talking to before she butted into their conversation were still standing there, watching expectantly for them to be pulled back in. "I've interrupted your previous conversation, I'm sorry for doing so," she apologized to the couple, "I'll let you get back to it...I need to go find Tommy," she added then, her final statement directed at Polly in hopes that the older woman would be able to point her in the right direction.
"I've not seen him yet," Polly told her and (Y/N) nodded anyway before going on in search of her husband. He has to be around here somewhere, she thought to herself as she ventured deeper into the party.
Instead of finding Tommy next, she found Ada. The Shelby woman's eyes lit up as she spotted her sister-in-law. "(Y/N)!" she exclaimed, opening her arms in an invitation for a hug, "you look absolutely stunning!"
"So do you, Ada," she returned the compliment as they broke apart from their embrace.
"You're literally glowing, oh my goodness," Ada continued to gush, succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up. "Have you been enjoying yourself so far?"
"So far, yes," (Y/N) nodded, "I've only just gotten here, and the night is still young, so who knows what may happen," she elaborated, a smile on her face. She knew of one thing that was going to be happening tonight.
"You're so right. These things make me want to lose my mind...I don't know how you're always so composed," Ada stated, exhaling a slight groan after speaking. "Speaking of losing my mind, I need a drink. Care to come with me?" she asked, motioning over to the drinks table then. Champagne had been flowing throughout the building, and almost every person had a glass in their hands. (Y/N) and Ada certainly looked like the odd ones out.
"I don't think I'll be drinking," (Y/N) declined the other woman's idea.
"No?" Ada was surprised.
"No," (Y/N) affirmed with a slight shake of her head, "I'd rather things not get too crazy for me tonight," she added an excuse then.
"Fair enough," Ada didn't fight her choice, grinning at the memory of the family Christmas party where she and (Y/N) had polished off two bottles of wine. Things most certainly did get crazy at that event.
"Have a drink for me, will you?" (Y/N) jokingly suggested, her ask making the other woman laugh.
"Of course," Ada promised her with a grin.
"Have you seen Tommy?" (Y/N) decided to ask then, glancing around the room once more in hopes to catch a glimpse of her husband.
"I believe he's talking with Roland Weatherington about the export venture," Ada answered, also looking around the room then. Silence fell between them for a few moments before she spoke again, "he is. He's just over there," she confirmed, pointing over to where the tables were set up for the guests on the right side of the room.
(Y/N) looked in that direction and found Tommy rather quickly. She wondered why she didn't see him earlier. "Thank you, Ada," she smiled at the other woman, getting ready to go greet her husband for the first time that night. She just hoped that he wouldn't get too angered by her jumping into his conversation.
"You're welcome. I'll see you later, yeah?" Ada asked, her eyebrows slightly raised.
"Most definitely," (Y/N) nodded with a smile before they went in different directions. She could feel the butterflies start to pick up as she neared Tommy. He always looked so good in the tuxedos that he wore for these occasions. It was most certainly her special treat for having to endure these events. "Hi, Tommy," she greeted as she approached him and the other man, "am I finding you at a bad time?" she asked then, not wanting to speak any further if he was already invested in a business-based conversation.
Tommy's eyes found her almost immediately. "No, love, of course not," he shook his head, happy to finally see her after spending most of the day apart. "C'mere," he beckoned her over to his side with a slight nod of his head, and she listened, slotting herself next to him so that he could place his hand on the small of her back. "This is Roland Weatherington," he then began introductions after realizing they were in order, "Mr. Weatherington, this is my wife, (Y/N)."
"It's nice to meet you, (Y/N)," Mr. Weatherington smiled as he extended his hand out for her to shake.
"You as well," she smiled back as she shook his hand.
"I've heard so much about all of your time spent with the children at the home. They are really blessed to have someone like you as a constant in their otherwise uncertain lives," he said then, and (Y/N) swore she felt happier just at the mention of the children and her time spent with them.
"He's decided to give a donation to the home in Birmingham," Tommy informed her, a smile on his face as well. This was such a major project for him, and seeing it do so well brought so much joy to his heart. He slept soundly at night knowing that the children left to the streets of Birmingham didn't have to go through the things that he went through as a child.
"Really?" (Y/N) beamed as she heard the news, "oh, that's so very kind of you, Mr. Weatherington."
"It's the least that I could do," the man answered her, a look of gratitude on his face.
"Tommy, it's time," Polly came over to the group then, telling Tommy that it was time to deliver a formal thanks to all of the guests for attending the event.
"It was nice speaking with you, Mr. Weatherington," Tommy addressed the man standing across from him.
"As was with you, Mr. Shelby," Roland returned the sentiment, "I will be speaking with you more in the future." He watched as Tommy nodded in approval of his statement before he left the other three for his table.
"Come with me?" Tommy asked (Y/N) as he looked over at her. (Y/N) only nodded as she sent a smile his way. That was all Tommy nodded to take her hand into his and follow Polly to the open area of the venue.
(Y/N) stood by his side as he addressed the crowd, thanking them for coming and for supporting the children of Birmingham who didn't have a place to call their own prior to the Shelbys' stepping in. She couldn't help but smile proudly as she watched him speak, feeling overwhelmingly blessed for getting to call him 'her person'. He looked over at her as the crowd applauded his speech, and she swore that they were the only two people in the world...well, not quite - there was someone else too. Which made (Y/N) realize that this was the perfect time to tell him what she'd be wanting to the entire night.
"I'm pregnant, Tommy," she told him, deciding to come right out with the news instead of building up to it.
"That's great, love," he answered her, smiling before he looked away. (Y/N) watched him carefully as his eyes darted around the room, and saw the realization slowly seep into his features. "Wait..." he trailed off, his now wide eyes finding hers again.
"We're having a baby," she told him again, already feeling the tears welling up in her eyes.
"Really?" he asked for further confirmation, even though she'd explicitly told him twice already.
"Yes," she nodded, laughing slightly at his shocked expression.
“Wait…” he still seemed a bit confused, and it was obvious to (Y/N) that his mental gears were turning, “why tell me here?” he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
He had a good point. Why did she choose to tell him this intimate news while standing in a large room full of people? “I figured this was as good a place as any,” she shrugged slightly.
“Even after everything?” he asked another question, alluding to the past that they shared with these types of events.
She knew exactly what he was talking about. Many of her previous nights were plagued with nightmares of the charity event where she suffered a very early miscarriage due to the shock and fear that stemmed from a man breaking into the venue and attempting to carry out a hit on Tommy. The attempt was quickly neutralized by his brothers, but (Y/N)’s pregnancy was unable to be saved. But better days were on the horizon now, she knew that they were.
“Yes,” she nodded definitively, “it feels like a full circle moment,” she said with a smile.
“Full circle indeed,” Tommy grinned.
He never thought that he’d hear this news so soon, especially after what they’d gone through a year ago. An overwhelming amount of joy surged through his body, and he had to fight the urge to let the tears fall from where they were welling up in his eyes. It wouldn’t be a good look for the Tommy Shelby to be crying in the middle of a room filled with his prestigious counterparts, but he was damn sure about to.
So instead of letting them fall, he grabbed hold of (Y/N)’s face and brought her lips to his in a passionate kiss, showing her just how excited he was to hear this news. “I’ve got a good feeling about it all this time, Tommy,” (Y/N) whispered against his lips once they pulled away.
“Yeah?” he breathed, truly feeling like they were the only two in the room now.
“Yeah,” she affirmed, giggling slightly before she reached up to wipe the smudged lipstick off of his bottom lip.
Tommy chuckled as he realized what she was doing. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, his grin still present.
“Always,” she winked before pecking his lips once more. She repeated the previous process when she pulled away, making sure his lips didn’t have any added color to them. Tommy shook his head slightly at her. “I couldn’t help myself,” she defended her actions while grinning like a fool.
“You never can,” he teased her, wanting to cling onto this reverie as long as he could.
“Do you blame me?” she quipped, raising her eyebrows as she recognized what he was doing. This was something she could happily play along with.
“No,” he shook his head again, pressing a kiss to her forehead this time before he dropped his hands from her cheeks to her waist. “I can’t help myself neither…especially when you give me such wonderful news.”
“You two wanna join the rest of the party again?” Polly’s voice cut into their bubble before (Y/N) could say what she wanted back to him.
(Y/N) finally broke her eyes away from Tommy’s to face the older woman, a sheepish look clear on her features as she did so. “I was just sharing some news with Tommy,” she explained, having no desire of holding the secret back anymore.
“Some news?” Polly was immediately intrigued by the other woman’s statement.
“I’m pregnant, Pol,” (Y/N) broke the news, and Polly’s arms were wrapped around her within seconds.
“I knew it,” Polly whispered into (Y/N)’s ear as she hugged her tightly, “and what a place to share it…it’s always refreshing to erase what’s happened in the past with something good.”
“You’re most definitely right,” (Y/N) nodded once they pulled away from each other.
Polly sent (Y/N) a wide smile and squeezed her shoulders before she set her attention on Tommy. “Congratulations, Thomas,” she said sincerely as she then pulled her nephew into a tight hug. (Y/N) didn’t know how Tommy was keeping it together, because she was just about bawling at the touching nature of the moment they were all sharing.
She recognized the second they pulled apart, however, that he wasn’t doing the best job. “Thank you, Pol,” he choked out, nodding his head as he discretely tried to swipe away the tears that were threatening to fall. (Y/N) caught him though, and that was what made her floodgates open.
Polly paid no attention to the tearful couple as she took both of their hands and began leading them over to where the rest of the Shelby family was congregated at their reserved table. She said something about sharing this news with the rest of the family as soon as possible, and (Y/N) was only able to send one more quick smile in Tommy’s direction before going into doing just what Polly suggested.
———
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American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 15: A Dangerous Game
On the way back from the race we stop by the Garrison so Arthur can pick up some liquor for the house.
“Won’t take long, lads. Just a few bottles. Tommy’s been downing them like there’s no tomorrow.”
The other Shelbys head to a hidden side room to discuss private matters. I suppose I’ll just sit at the bar-
“Jesus!”
I whip my head around in time to see Grace burst through the door. She barely notices me and storms off towards the back staircase.
“Grace, what’s wrong? Did-?”
“Thomas Shelby, that’s what’s wrong,” she answers sharply before stomping upstairs. “Ask him.”
Strange. I know Thomas can be emotionally detached and isn’t always the happiest, but he does know how to treat a lady.
“Let’s go, Steenstra!” Arthur calls from the front door.
“Coming!”
Maybe I can get more answers back at the house.
“How was your first horse race?” Finn asks when we enter the hallway.
“It was… brief,” I try to pull my thoughts together. “Unfortunately I didn’t even get to see the race take off.”
“That’s too bad. Maybe you can catch another one some other time.”
Finn’s bouncing on his heels and I can tell he’s antsy for another lesson. I guess there’s nothing else to do now. It’s starting to get dark and I’m in no mood to cook.
“How about a nature walk?”
Finn scrunches his nose. “At night?”
“You’d be surprised at what you can find at night. Ever see a firefly?” That keeps his attention. “Go wait outside and I’ll grab my coat.”
Finn picks out a flashlight and heads out the door despite Arthur’s disapproval.
“‘S dangerous at night, Steenstra.”
“Relax, Arthur,” John waves it off. “There’s a Peaky Blinder ‘round every corner. They’ll be safe. I’m off to put the kids to bed.”
Arthur sets the whiskey bottles on the counter and pours himself a glass. “Let’s see how long these can last.”
“Don’t count on it.”
Thomas’ voice snaps my attention to the hall behind me. His wrinkled suit gives reason to believe something happened after the race, but I don’t pry. Arthur just rolls his eyes and walks off to his room, downing the glass of whiskey.
“Evening, Verena. Enjoy the race?”
“What little I could. What happened to Grace? I ran into her at the Garrison and she had the look to kill.”
The Peaky Blinder doesn’t seem fazed. “She didn’t look it to me. She’s the one who asked if I thought she was a whore.”
His words stop me dead in my tracks. “Oh God. Thomas. Did you…?”
“I told her everyone is a whore, we just sell different parts of ourselves. She should’ve known what she was getting into when she agreed to work for me. He got mine, I got his.”
This business goes far beyond my jurisdiction and I’m glad it does. How can he have the audacity to even think such a thing?
I keep a stern frown and fight the urge to slap his arrogant face. “You son of a bitch. You did a whore swap? Against Grace’s wishes? I don’t blame her for being upset!”
He seems confused by my outburst. “Don’t get a bee in your bonnet. I didn’t do anything with his woman. We just talked. Call it getting soft, but I changed my mind and went back to trick Kimber into thinking she has Syphilis before he could do anything serious.”
This back and forth routine is giving me a headache. “Same pattern, every time. You do something so incredibly stupid and then counteract it.” I unhook my coat from the wall and strut to the door before Thomas can utter another moral riddle for me to decipher.
“Why are you so uptight about it? It’s not like I offered you up-”
I pivot before I reach the door and stare him down with a glare mother would be proud of. “Thomas Shelby, do you think I am a whore? That I would belittle myself so low? How dare you. How dare you assume the lowest standards of all women. I thought you were better than that.”
I leave him to stew on that. That Thomas Shelby is going to drive me up the wall, I swear to God. I shall have to offer some comfort to Grace, despite my subtle jealousy for her attraction to Thomas.
“Pst!”
The hushed voice leads me to the door leading to the bull ring where all the real action takes place. Through a small crack I see Finn’s face peeking out.
“Finn, what are you up to?”
“Shh! I’m hiding!”
Call me bewildered but this little game seems like the perfect opportunity to distract from today’s events. “Oh! Can I join you?”
He cracks the door open wider and we both peer out into the dim hall. Outside we hear Thomas and Polly chatting about another family meeting. After a while everyone files out and the doors are shut. Now all that’s left is one of the bookkeepers.
“What are we waiting for?” I whisper to Finn.
“You’ll see.”
A few more minutes go by. Finn’s not one to invite friends over so what-?
The door opens and a group of men sulk inside. These men aren’t Peaky Blinders. What the devil is going on?
Finn steps out for them to notice and one of them pats his head. “Good boy.”
“Finn, who are these men-?!”
Another man whips out a pistol and corners me against the wall. “Quiet, bitch!”
The gun leaves my pulse racing. “Put that down! What on Earth are you doing here?”
“We’re taking back what’s ours!” The brute sneers and turns to the others. “Search everywhere!”
My fighting instincts want to sprint for the gun hidden in my purse. But that would take too long. I’ll be shot dead in seconds. The only other option I can think of is distraction.
“Finn!” I hiss at the young Shelby, who’s idling by the door. “Finn, go get Thomas. Now!”
He does as I say and slips outside. I don’t know what or who compelled him to let these men in here but I’m not just going to stand by without a fight.
“I don’t know who you are-”
Slap!
My cheek starts stinging from where the man hit me. “I said quiet! We know you’re the Shelby’s housekeeper so act like one and shut up!”
Another man roughly grabs my hands and starts to bind them with twine. No, I don’t think so! I knee him in the crotch and duck to roll behind a desk to avoid the fired shots.
“Get that bitch!”
If I could just get to my gun- AH!
“Verena! Verena? Is she coming around?” A distant voice asks.
Huh? What happened?
My eyelids flutter open and I find myself sprawled out on the dusty floor surrounded by the Shelbys. The whole room’s been ransacked. Tables and chairs are thrown everywhere.
“Jesus Christ. What the bloody Hell happened here?” John asks as he examines the rubble.
“The Lees, all of them.”
“They’ve taken everything,” Polly grumbles.
I catch Thomas’ eye and he seems to drop all other concerns as he approaches and kneels down to me. “Did they hurt you?”
“No,” I answer firmly.
“Did they rape you?”
“If they’d tried they’d be dead.” There’s something else I notice about the room. “Wait. They left these.”
Thomas looks to where I’m pointing and examines the tool.
“Wire cutters? Why would they do that?” Polly asks.
Thomas spreads out his arms. “Nobody move. I think they’re playing a game.”
Polly and I share confused looks. “Game? What game?”
“Back in France, whenever we gave up ground from the Germans we’d set traps and leave behind wire cutters as part of the joke.”
Thomas’ eyes search around the room. “Somewhere in here is a hand grenade.”
Polly’s eyes widen and she too looks around. “Holy Jesus.”
“Attached to a wire. Don’t move anything, don’t touch anything,” John cautions us. “Verena, do you remember anything? Maybe where they might have hidden it?”
“No.” Thomas shakes his head. “If it was in here it would’ve blown by now. It was my name on that bullet. The trap’s set for me.” He looks over to where I’m still sitting on the floor. Does he look guilty? “And unfortunately you happened to be here.”
“But I wasn’t alone. Didn’t Finn come find you?”
Something sparks in Thomas’ eyes. “Where’s Finn?”
My breathing stutters. Where is Finn? Didn’t he follow everyone back here? Apparently not because Thomas rushes out the door to find him.
“Verena, where are you going?” John asks when I stand up to follow.
“I don’t care if it’s not proper for a lady to be involved with this. Finn’s in trouble and I will not just sit back and wait to see if he’s safe.”
We all follow Thomas out in one big search party. Where would Finn have gone-?
“Finn. stay exactly where you are.”
Thomas’ voice leads us to the garage where the car is parked. Finn is seated in the front holding the steering wheel.
“I was pretending I was you,” he smiles proudly at his older brother.
“Which door did you open to climb in, Finn?”
“I didn’t. I climbed in.” Of course he did.
Thomas approaches the vehicle slowly. “I want you to climb out exactly the same way you came in, understand?”
The young Shelby gets a giddy smile and all but ignores Thomas’ instructions by pushing the driver door open.
“No Finn-!” Thomas sprints over and pulls Finn out just as a ticking sound starts. “Clear!”
He picks up the grenade and hurls it out into the alley, causing a loud explosion to spread hot flames across the earth. John jumps in front to shield me from the blast.
My already-jumbled nerves triple my heart rate. “Oh my God.”
But Finn is safe now.
“That’s why you should never pretend to be me,” Thomas explains to him. “Ok? Ok?”
Thomas must be proud for his younger brother to admire him but at the same time I can tell he doesn’t want him in too deep either.
“Alrighty, time for a drink,” Arthur grunts and the others start walking back.
“Time to clean up.”
Perfect. More chores. Can’t this family go one week without fighting?
“Are you ok, Verena?” Finn comes up. “‘M sorry. ‘S my fault those blokes got in.”
“It’s alright, Finn. As long as no one was hurt.”
Both him and Thomas frown. “But you-?”
“My own health does not compare.”
Thomas wants to follow up but decides to stay quiet. Thankfully Finn wanders back to the house and leaves us alone.
“I don’t know why he’s even allowed to be involved,” I say sharply. “Yes he’s a Shelby but just look at what could have happened.”
“I know, I know.” Thomas sighs. “‘M… ‘M sorry about earlier. And now you were almost killed-”
“Thomas, relax. Like I said, I’m more concerned about other things rather than my own well-being.”
“Why? Anyone who’s not out for their own self-interest is lying. We all want something.”
I exhale deeply to calm my temper. “Yes, but not all of us are driven by it. My wants are trumped by God’s purpose.”
We stand in silence for a time, listening to the foot traffic. As hard as I try to see the positives this place will always point out the violence tied to it.
“On another note, John’s getting married now,” Thomas says after a while.
“Can’t say I’m surprised. He’s always telling me about how his kids can be a handful. They need a proper mother. So who’s the lucky bride?”
He huffs. “Lizzie Stark. It’s a joke.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because she’s a whore,” Thomas states plainly.
At this point I’m not fazed by his blunt words. “Aside from Polly, Grace, and me, is there anyone in Birmingham who isn’t?”
“It’s not just that. She’s the whore I told you about earlier, the one I’d been seeing.”
So it’s back to therapy mode now. “But you’re passed that now. Is she a decent person?”
“She’s a whore. What do you expect?”
God this man can be stubborn. “Maybe whores have feelings too. Will she make a good mother?”
He kicks a stone down the alley and lights a cigarette. “John thinks so.”
“So trust his judgment. If she’s what he thinks the kids need, then go with it. She could be nice.”
I can’t tell if my words reach Thomas at all. He just finishes his cigarette and starts walking down the opposite end. He makes no gesture for me to follow so I stay put.
“Where are you off to now?” I call after him.
“Planning a switch with the Gypsies to go against Kimbel.”
Gypsies. I don’t know much about their business because Uncle Colon doesn’t either. He made a peace agreement with them to keep a distance. “Can you trust them?”
“On my mother’s side we’re kin. That should help them trust me.”
That can be a perk… Then again family ties are also methods of holding grudges. Oh well. After all that’s happened today I really need some time to relax. I get back to the house and head straight for my room. After a warm bath and donning a fresh nightgown I finally sit down on my bed for some embroidery.
“Um, Vernea? Do you have a moment?”
I always have a moment. “You doing alright, Finn?”
He stays leaning against the doorway and contemplates what to say. “Tommy said not to be like him. But he’s always been a role model to me.”
I can see how this complicates things. Thomas does have admirable traits but at the same time can be an example of what not to be. Contradictive, as usual.
“Sometimes in life we look up to people when we only know half their story. Not everyone is someone to admire, Finn. Sometimes you need to search yourself and decide what kind of person you alone want to be. That may not be the answer you’re looking for but it’s my honest answer. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Finn shakes his head, deep in thought. “Alright. If you don't mind, I'd like to retire for the night. Goodnight.”
Thankfully Finn gets the message and shuts the door on his way out. Deep breath. Between my conflicting emotions for Thomas and the Lees attack I certainly need a good night’s rest.
#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fucking blinders#peaky fookin blinders#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#arthur shelby#john shelby#finn shelby#polly gray#grace burgess#cillian murphy#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfiction
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Hiii! Can I please request a Shelby family x sister!reader where Y/n Shelby, the youngest Shelby sibling (a year or two younger than Finn), is the complete opposite of her siblings, she’s more on the timid/shy innocent side, she’s not a fighter like her siblings are, gets scared easily (she’s pretty jumpy & anxious) and she’s soft & kind, so she’s not really included in all of the meetings (Her brothers just want to protect her and don’t want to scare her). With all this, she feels like she doesn’t fit in with her family and constantly worries that she’s disappointing her them. Maybe classmates are being mean to her at school about it and maybe even some men at the Garrison too? About her being a Shelby but not being “tough” like her older brothers/sister/aunt. Maybe she always hears people say that there’s no way that she’s actually a Shelby and she comes home crying after school saying stuff like she “doesn’t deserve to be a Shelby”?🥺🥺 John, Tommy, Arthur and Finn prove her otherwise 🥺🥺? Shelby boys ready to throw hands at those being mean to their baby sister 🥺 Tommy very much being a father figure to his baby sister and Y/n really looking up to him🥺🥺
Love,
This was so freaking cute!!! I made it more angsty by accident and changed a few things but hopefully that's alright ♥️ It's also a bit shorter than usual.
Warnings: reader gets her ass squeezed, bad language, non descript peaky violence, flufffff
It was a bad day right from the beginning. You woke up at 4am unable to go to sleep. So you laid there reading, frustrated and hungry. Once the house was up things were absurdly loud as Polly handed you a list of things to pick up from the shop.
That was your role in the family. Chores, chores, and more chores. Scrubbing the blood out of white collar shirts, cooking, and keeping the house in order, all under Polly’s watchful eye. Since the boys were back your chores tripled but you’d never complain about it as all three of your brothers returned mostly fine.
It was an adjustment, new players entered the game and you felt yourself drift further and further away from your family. Tommy had big ideas, Polly hated them, Arthur wanted to run the ship, and John was just happy to have things to do other than watch his children. While Finn was only a year older than you, he still forged his place alongside the boys. Even Ada had a part to play.
You thought back to Ada telling you how Tommy even wanted to send you away to some school in London. He’d write to you the whole time you were gone about missing you and wanting to hear about everything going on in your life, but once back he was ready to push you as far away as possible.
Your resentment was interrupted once you stopped into the Garrison for two bottles of whiskey. Men were looking at you with sharp eyes, something that always made the hair on the backs of your arms stand up.
“Eh, no lone women allowed!” One man sneered.
“I’m here to pick up for the Shelby family.” You looked right at the bartender who’d known you since you were a kid, he gave you an apologetic look. Or was it a look of exasperation, like defending you was becoming a chore?
“Lay off it boys.” He said quickly, grabbing bottles off the top shelf.
“S’not right for a lady to be drinking that much alone.” Another man came to your side and grabbed your ass. Your eyes widened, normally your last name was enough to prevent this type of confrontation. “Not a lady, so must be a whore.” He declared thinking himself some kind of genius. Everyone else seemed to think this was just the bee’s knees.
Your body was still tense completely frozen, you grabbed the whisky placing it in your basket with your other shopping. Keeping your composure you thanked the bartender, who did fuck all about the situation, and walked back to the flat.
As soon as you got the door shut you started to break hating the way the men had laughed at you, the pudgy man’s grip still burning your flesh.
You rested your hands on the locked front door and tried to steady yourself. But the cold realization started to sink in. It was unavoidable, on your mind all of the time.
You had no value and no respect. Completely invisible.
You didn't want to fall apart in the entryway where someone else could poke fun of you for being soft. If that had happened to Polly - well it wouldn't have ever happened to Polly.
You put the stuff in the cold room and went upstairs deciding to take the day off. To hell with the consequences. Your thoughts were impossible to overcome, you got off your outside clothes and climbed under the heavy weight of your blankets.
_______________________________________________
Tommy’s POV
“Shelby.” He answered the phone reluctantly moving away from strategizing his next move on Campbell.
“Mr. Shelby, Harry Fenton here from the pub.” Tommy rolled his eyes. There was only one Harry Fenton, and whatever he had to say was not a priority to him at this time.
“What can I do for ya?” He said lighting a cigarette hoping it would calm his agitation.
“Well, It’s your sister.” He sat up quickly. “You see, she was ‘round earlier when we were busy, and some of the men were being rude to her. One man have felt her up a bit, just wanted to call in and apologize for not doining more. Had my hands tied with customers and she was out before I could intervene.”
“Your hands were tied?” His voice was level despite the blood pounding in his head.
“Yes.” He answered simply.
“And the men are still there then?”
“Yes,” His voice was slightly uneasy almost bringing a smile to Tommy’s face.
Tommy hung up the phone and forced himself to take a breath. This part of the plan wasn't supposed to happen till much later, but when God opens a door you walk through it.
“BOYS!” He shouted at the bustling room of people.
“Someone’s laid their hands on my. Fuckin’. Sister.” He looked around the room watching any outsiders slowly back away. His brothers shot up from their stations, already knowing what was going to happen. For once Polly seemed to be on his side, her brow growing tense with worry. She didn't wait around for further instructions, already moving upstairs to find her.
He didn’t feel like spelling things out, anyone smart enough would be on their way. John and Arthur caught up to him and they walked towards the pub. Looking behind him Ada locked the door to the shop and followed along.
He was surprised how many came with them to storm the pub. But times were hard, and people were hungry, they were angry, and what better way to feel better than to lay a beating down to defend someone's honor?
He didn’t need to speak. John kicked the door open and the place felt silent.
Caps in hand they tore the place to ribbons.
________________________________________________________________
“Open the door right fucking now!” Polly shouted, banging loudly on your locked bedroom door.
“I just want to rest. Leave me be” You called back getting annoyed. Everyone took days off, why couldn't you? “I’ll make up for it tomorrow.” Your voice started to break at the fact that you even had to explain yourself. “I’m not well”
“NOW!” Polly demanded harshly pushing you over the edge. You whipped the door open and glared at her.
“FUCK OFF!” You screamed. “Just - please. Leave me alone” Your voice broke and tears started spilling over your rosy cheeks. Polly wasn't the least bit mad, if anything she looked terrified, her slender arms wrapping around you crushing you.
She couldn't speak, your face pushed into her shoulder. You both didn't make it to the bed, sitting down in the hallway. You could feel that she was crying from old hurts, her fingers tangled in your long hair.
“What’s happened?” You whispered.
“You tell me what happened. I won’t be mad alright” She looked into your eyes making your heart rip into pieces.
“No one cares about me. I know things are hard right now - and I should - be g-grateful. But I do everything, and yet I have no place here with all of you.” The tears turned into sobs. “I go out there and even every day people don’t believe I’m a Shelby.” You sniffled. “And Thomas -”
But your mind made the rest of that sentence impossible to say allowed.
“Fuck Thomas - don’t worry - “
“I miss him so much” You cut her off not wanting to hear anything more of her anger towards him.
“He loves you.” She said quietly.
“No, he doesn't. He doesn't want me here. Ada says he wants to send me away for school.”
“Don’t want you all twisted up in this mess.” His voice caused you to jump. There he was on the stairs looking at the two of you on the floor. “This place is a shit hole and it’s going to be bad for a long while, I wanted to send you somewhere safe.”
His voice was different and his eyes were almost as soft as they normally were when he used to look at you. His hands were red. His face quickly fell as he continued.
“There was a change of plans though.” He looked defeated, not something that often shadowed his features.
“What happened?”
“Pub is under new management. Need someone to help keep the place.” He looked at you with eyes of anticipation.
“No.” Polly said firmly.
“Look, it’s not my fault Arthur can’t read or do maths.” He said quietly.
“I can read.” You heard Arthur mumble sadly from the entryway and you almost wanted to laugh. He moved closer to you.
“I need some brains behind the muscle downstairs. You get me.” He turned his attention to Polly. “After that blood bath, her and Arthur won’t have any problems.”
She thought about it for a moment.
“Alright - but if anything -”
“I’d handle it.” He answered quickly.
“You want me to manage the pub?”
“It will be long hours, but most of it spent in the office. S’long as you balance the books, the rest of the time is yours to read or study” He looked at you with his big eyes and you wanted nothing more than to have him hug you like when you were small. “It’s a big task, but I can't trust anyone else with it.”
“I’ll do it.” You nodded at him. Just then a barking noise erupted from the entry.
“The fuck is that.” Arthur boomed.
“It’s a fucking horse. Bloody moron what does it look like.” John answered sounding exasperated.
“Why’d you get us a mutt?”
“Not a mutt. She’s a - doesn't matter Tommy wanted- fuck sake” There was a sound of a struggle and a puppy came bounding up the stairs behind Tommy.
You caught her around the neck, still in shock as she rubbed her face into your shoulder.
“There, between the mutt and Arthur, she’ll be fine,” Tommy said his face breaking its usual numb composure as the dog licked your face.
“You don’t leave the house without her, eh? We can train her together.” The words together rang around in your mind as you felt your heart thaw out. Thinking of the boys fighting at the pub to the point where they took the thing over, and the wiggly puppy in your arms, you knew your family loved you.
_________________________________________
Extras:
After that, the Garrison was your pub. Everyone in the family bent the law when it suited them, so it became a place for a lot of ladies to come and drink. More ladies meant more men, more men meant more drinks got bought. You quickly became the most profitable pub in Birmingham. Tommy was pushing you to renovate it to something more modern, but you told him that he could just place that money in your pocket and fuck off.
Tommy’s raid was a tale often told like a legend. That story served you well as everyone was well behaved. But this pub allowed you to learn how to be assertive, while still helping people the best you could.
Listening to people's problems as they drank their pain away, you offered advice and laughs. Sent women with children home with any extra bread or leftover snacks you had.
After you busted Grace if anyone wanted in on the Peaky Blinders they had to start as a bus boy under your thumb.
She broke Tommy pretty badly, but when it came down to it he trusted you more than he loved her. He sent her out of Birmingham, but you used your own connections to escort her to America making it well known she wasn't welcome back on British soil. No one fucked with you because of your brothers, and no one fucked with your brothers without answering to you.
When a horse trainer named May came through to meet with him, you may have insisted on her coming around to teach you about horses. She quickly caught on to your plan (as you were more Tommy’s daughter than not, if you knew one thing it was horses) and just started coming around to drink and people watch at the bar with you, leading to an unavoidable romance that made you an aunty.
Knowing everyone's woes, and helping them when in need made you the most approachable Peaky Blinder. People would rally for you, and move mountains if necessary, all because of your kindness and the very things that set you apart from your family. Tommy found your self-made position extremely valuable, you could read people you didn’t know better than anyone else, and you had a whole library of information on the events and people of Birmingham.
I know she’s a lot younger than Thomas, but once she’s an adult, I honestly think it would be hilarious if Alfie took an interest in her. Someone older who liked to spoil her rotten, and was super protective.
Especially if she met him unaware of who he was, just looking for a cheaper deal on booze to up the profits at the pub. Getting his name from a traveler she decides to make a business meeting with him. Then Thomas finds out about it and drives all the way to London to freak out at them. In the meantime, he’s just confused why this little Shelby has come to Camden Town alone to hardball him on rum prices for her pub.
(Might want to write a follow-up piece to this because I think it would be hilarious)
Tags list: @kpopgirlbtssvt
#peaky blimders#Tommy shelby#Thomas shelby#Peaky blinders x reader#Shelby sister#Shelby sister imagine#peaky blinders imagine#Peaky blinders fic#tommy shelby imagine
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the sparkling capone x tommy shelby series.
part 1/ ?
beatrice 'bea' or 'bee' angelina capone, was born on november 30th, 1900 to gabriel and teresina copone, only one year after her older brother al capone was born. she grew up in new york majority of her life before al took his kid sister (and Irish twin) and himself to the second city, chicago where he begun his journey of dealings and life of crime.
my own storyline/timeline for actual capone history and peaky blinders. takes place between 1923 and 1924.
age gap series.
warnings: swearing.
word count: 4.2K
italicized is Italian.
a fact-paced story that takes place over a year, with time jumps.
faceclaims: young lily james as beatrice, dylan obrien as gio, zoey deutch as marissa and jacob eldori as marco.
✦•······················•✦•······················•✦
december, 1923.
beatrice looked at the port in this shit hole of place, birmingham her brother had asked her to go visit. apparently, he wanted to work with some folks over here and because he couldn't leave chicago at that very moment, he sent her. she was the second in command, and had more brains than he did; though he would never admit. joined by her cousin, gio and longtime friend of her and her brother, marco. she sighed looking down at the ground, heel propped and silently cursing her brother for this job. she'd somehow be undermining the current operations here in birmingham that were run by a group called, the peaky blinders. supposedly she'd get the guys they were working with to work with her brother instead, somehow someway he said. whatever it takes, and that even meant killing a person if it meant that he'd get the connections.
it was just a week ago when he sat beatrice down in his chicago office, letting her know the assignment her had for her. she quickly turned it down, but he held up one finger to let him finish. she sighed, rolling down further in the plush chair and continued to listen to what he had to say. she agreed, reluctantly. "who will be accompanying me?" she questioned, knowing he'd never want danger to come to her. how ironic that statement is. gio agreed the moment al had come to him, and then marco his longtime friend and confidant agreed quickly as well. marco had always looked out for the girl, maybe a little too much sometimes. they had shared some nights together when al was away tending to business, but it never led to anything else. she would not allow it, and she knew he'd be killed by the hands of her brother if he'd found out. either frank or al, it did not matter. the three of them boarded a boat in new york and sailed 9 days before arriving to london, and then drove to this dump beatrice called it. "remind me to kill al when i get back." she huffed, as the three walked back towards their rented car. marco chuckled while gio agreed, he couldn't believe al had tricked him this badly. the three drove into town just a bit, looking for their hotel. "lets stop there." she said pointing at a bar or pub. she was not sure what they called it here. gio nodded, pulling up across the street to a place called, 'the garrison.' marco got out first, placing a hand out for beatrice who took it. she stood up, and began to look around. brick lined streets, dirty walls of homes flooded her vision. she looked towards her right to see a man watching the three while smoking a cigarette. gio eyed the man as he got out, and marco led the girl over. she took in the smell of this city and could not wait to be back in chicago.
hopefully, sooner rather than later.
marco walked in first, looking around before signaling to beatrice that she could walk in. as if she was royalty or had notoriety. she swallowed hard before stepping into the place with confidence and swagger, as if she already owned the place. marco led her to table to the side, while gio walked behind them. as soon as she sat she for a moment before letting them know what she wanted, "just the usual." she said not thinking anything of it. however, the usual wasn't a drink here. she giggled, and asked for vodka instead. she watched as gio went to go fetch the three's drinks, and marco sat down still checking everybody out; nonchalantley. "marco...you can relax for a minute." she said touching his arm softly. "not when you have a group of people staring at you." he said and she shyly looked towards the bar and saw a group of people staring.
those must be them, she thought.
gio was walking towards the two when she looked away. she took the vodka and sipped it sparingly. gio lit a cigar, and she pushed his shoulder to give her a puff. he rolled his eyes as she took off her coat, and took it from him. thomas shelby had never seen anything more attractive, in his 33 years on this earth. the utmost power she held over those 2 was incredible. she took one last puff before giving it back to gio, and she sat back in her chair and closed her eyes for a few seconds. "ill be back, I'm going to make a phone call." marco said and she nodded. she knew he was going to make a phone call to london where the capones had a trusted business partner, who then would send word that the three had made it. beatrice clicked her tongue, taking another sip of her drink. her face scrunched with disgust, "they really need some better vodka here." she said and gio laughed heartedly. a blonde woman walked by asking if they wanted more and beatrice thought for a minute before gio began to hit on the woman. beatrice hit the back of his head, cleanly and sharply. causing arthur and michael to snicker. she took the cigar back and apologized to the barmaid, "i do apologize for my cousin. he clearly doesn't get any attention from the ladies." she said and the barmaid softly smiled at the girl. "but may i have something better than whatever this is." she said shoving the cup to the woman.
the woman took back what she had just thought, and sighed. another entitled girl she thought, but grace smiled and turned back to get the drinks. gio mumbled, and beatrice hit him once again in the head. "ow!" he whimpered, looking back at her. "don't make me shove you out of that chair giovanni!" she warned and he sighed turning around. she had had all the capone boys near and far wrapped around her finger for the last 2 decades. marco walked back into view, and Beatrice watched from the moment he did so. he walked across the bar, and he caught her eye. the two softly smiled at one another, blushing like fools. she breathed in the cigar once more before handing it back to gio. the barmaid came back with the drinks, and she stood there making sure they were fine. or rather, the snooty tastebuds the girl possessed. irish whiskey, she tasted. her blood boiled. marco and gio saw the look on her face, and chuckled. "irish. whiskey." the capone darkly seethed, before standing up. she took ahold of her jacket, threw it on and began her saunter out. the peaky blinders behind the bar were silently outraged at how disrespectful the three were being. well the one in particular.. the young capone. though, thomas found it somewhat amusing
"we'll be outside." gio said to marco who nodded, and she was outside taking in the cold air that hit her quickly. "irish fucking whiskey." she chastised causing gio to just laugh. "lets just get back, and get a long night rest." she said and he nodded, helping her into the bentley. marco walked out, and jogged over to the car after paying the bill. "all good?" she questioned as he sat next to her. he nodded, and gio started the ride to the other end of the city. back at the garrison, they shut it down and had a family meeting. they had no idea who these three were but from the looks of it (and sound) they were american, entitled and, had money. loads of it. marco threw down a 100 dollar bill and walked out. they were all curious on where they got that money from. - - "when she had the whiskey...it was like something snapped in her. like she was appalled and disgusted by it being Irish." grace said to the group who just nodded. "let me call my contact in london and see if he knows anything." tommy said thinking. "i don't know if that's a good thing or not since lover boy here has been transfixed since she took the cigar from the dude." john joked causing michael to his cousin. the two pushed each other a few times, "oi! we are not doing anything stupid lads. hear me?" tommy said with the utmost authority. everybody nodded and they dispanded for the evening.
ꕥ
bea woke up the next morning, groggy and itching to get out of the uncomfortable bed. she sighed, throwing on her silk robe and walked out into the tea room she stopped when she saw marco already sitting there with a newspaper and coffee. "coffee?" she questioned and he nodded, smirking as he knew her love and adoration for the dark drink. "i thought they only had tea here." she said remembering how worried she was of not getting caffeine overseas. "do you think your brother would send you some place without coffee? god bless that place if he did." he teased and she rolled her eyes, pulling up her feet to sit pretzel-styled. she sipped her coffee in peace, as she felt marco staring. "listen bud, you cant keep looking at me and not expect me to hit you." she teased, opening one eye and catching his. "does...does gio suspect anything?" macro asked after a minute had passed. she shrugged, "if he did, as ironic as it is he is too much of a gentleman to say a word. especially to al or frank." she said and he nodded. "he just wants me to be happy, that's all. i mean we've always seen each other as siblings so i trust him in that regards to not fuck up my life." she breathed. marco leaned across and took hold of one of her hands and brought it in his, and she smiled down at it. during her 23 years on this earth, al and frank had had a way with whom she liked. through small acts of behavior (not always violence), words that haunted the men she went out on dates with, and the promise that they'd ruin their lives if they hurt bea. she wanted this thing to be strong with marco before she went and told her brothers because she knew if she did not do it at the right moment; their relationship would be history and she'd be back in her ivory tower. never able to leave.
they unclasped their hands as they heard gio's door open, and bea eyed her cousin as he poured a cup of coffee for himself. "yknow if you all want privacy just tell me, i will sleep outside." he said and she nearly spit her coffee out. "excuse me?" she said eyeing her cousin, wide-eyed now. "if you want some time together, let me know so i don't have to blow my brains out." he said non chalantly. marco just laughed and bea rolled her eyes; cringing. "come on, i'm not an idiot." he paused as bea laughed loudly. "ok maybe i am just a bit but I've been with you two for what, 2 weeks now? i know y'all have a thing, just don't hurt her or i swear to god." he said turning to macro seriously. bea tried to hide her blushing and face behind her hands before macro pulled them away and kissed her proudly. "oh god." she said pushing him away, teasingly. "leave me alone!" she said hopping up and jogging away from marco. she left the two there and decided she might as well dress before going to the seamstress she'd planned to get information from. she put on her light purple dress, with her iconic black wool coat tied together with a gold bag. "boys, are you ready yet?" she asked as she walked into the tea room. the two nodded walking out, with marco smiling widely as he looked at her. "no no, we have to go." she said walking out of the large hotel suite with gio.
ꕥ
bea stood in the middle of the room with the seamstress, polly she had been told was her name. "so where does one yank like you, come from?" polly asked and bea smiled, "a far, far place from here." bea said not wanting to reveal too much. "you have a accent i cant quite decipher." polly said wanting to know more. bea knew what she was getting at, "i am originally from new york so you could say i picked up the accent there." she said acting as if she was dumb. cheeky girl, polly thought. "are you the only child?" polly asked looking up at bea. she sensed a change in the young blonde. "sometimes i feel as though i am, and other times i wish i were." bea said somewhat sadly before perking up again. she loved her brothers, but what they were doing was not for the faint of heart. her family had been torn apart when al took her and frank to chicago, and never allowed her to look back. he wanted to give her everything their parents could never give. he wanted to keep her safe from the hands of those that just wanted to take advantage of her and get even with her brothers. it had its obvious drawbacks, isolation, anxiety, and brothers who were gone more often than not. "so how did a flower like you end up here?" she questioned bea. bea cleared her throat, "a new beginning, a place to make a name for myself." and my family she did not say. after this 'operation' she'd have a bigger role back in chicago and that meant she could possibly start her new life and role in los angeles, like she'd always yearned for. bea eyed herself in the mirror, throwing the infamous capone glare through the mirror at herself.
awhile later, she was walking out of pollys shop. she thanked polly and told her that one of her two men would be around to get her outfits the following week. "have a wonderful afternoon." bea said respectfully before turning around to marco and gio. she heard some laughing coming from her right, and saw two guys she had seen last night. the one's that had laughed after she hit gio in the back of the head. "lets get going." marco said taking her hand and helping her in the car. michael and arthur eyed the three as they got in and drove off. they quickly walked into pol's to get information. "she didn't say much, i know there's more there." she said taking a long breathe of the cigarette. "you tellin tommy?" arthur asked and polly looked at him like he was dumb. "shes a peculiar yank sounds Italian- immigrated Italian." polly said and the two boys nodded. "and we all know where the italians went." she said referencing ellis island in new york. "well if she's Italian we ought to get rid of her right?"arthur said and polly shrugged. "she may not be a threat but tommy will make that decision." polly said walking towards the back.
ꕥ
marco walked in with bea as gio pushed them out the door, saying they needed a proper date. so the two walked into an upscale restaurant, and as soon as they did people look towards them speaking in hushed tones. the host walked them to their table which was conveniently located to the right of the shelbys table. with michael and tommy having a clear view of them. the waiter walked up with water and asked them for drinks, "may we have a bottle of your finest champagne?" marco asked. "any special occasion?" the waiter asked and the two looked at one another unsure of what to say, "first date." marco sheepishly said causing bea to blush. "congratulations, i will be right back!" the waiter said and bea tapped her hand against his, and he just laughed in response. she shrugged off her coat and the waiter came back in time to take it from her. "thankyou." she said and she took the champagne fluke in exchange, hitting hers with his. "here's to freedom!" he said softly, "here's to taking chances." she smiled and they sipped their bubbly drink. "what did the guy say in london?" she questioned and marco set his fluke down. "just said that he'd relay the message as soon as he could. apparently, your brother left the city." he said and her eyes widened. "seriously?" she questioned and he nodded. "didn't he i don't know just get it?" she whispered, referencing the position he just made on a situation on the northside of chicago. the irish land. she sighed, rolling her eyes. "he's gonna get himself killed, marco. fucking Irish are going to kill him." she said worrying. the tensions between the southside and northside at the moment were tense. everyday there was a threat that the Irish gang was going to storm their humble abode and shoot him in the night. al even feared it at times, though would then drown himself with alcohol and cigars. marco took hold of her hand and rubbed her thumb, "if anybody can escape death its your brother." he said knowingly, but it still didn't make her feel better. she turned to look to the right of her and saw the group from last night. as well as the woman from that afternoon.
she looked back towards marco and pulled her hand away from his, feeling nervous. "marco- I'm about to start speaking in Italian." she said and he was confused. "there's people listening to us." she said, and he knew who it was. "that woman i was with today is at their table." bea added and marco nodded. "is it true, he's sending more men this way from london?" she questioned marco and marco nodded. her brothers were sending trucks of men to help out this operation and keep her safe. she sat back in her seat, trying to figure out what to say next. she had a lot on her mind, like they had been since al pushed her into this operation. "he's going to be the death of me, marco. the death of me." she said in english, sighing as she did so. the two spent the rest of the evening talking about anything but al and the family business. marco also told her that he'd be visiting poland in the upcoming weeks after new years to talk to some vodka people out there. she did not like hearing that but she knew he had no choice, what al says; goes.
later on in the evening, as the two were just finishing their meals the waiter came over with two glasses of pure irish whiskey. their eyebrows knit in confusion until he pointed over towards the group of shelbys. tommy raised his glass of whiskey ever so slightly, staring at the young capone. she gave him her fake and famous beatrice capone smile. the one that dazzled everyone she came in contact with. tommy's heart raced. she chugged it down in one go, setting it back down and then looking towards the shelbys once more. she smiled, before standing back up and taking her coat from the waiter. "thankyou." she said before marco followed her out with a hand on her back.
"fucking italian scum." tommy thought, downing the rest of his whiskey.
ꕥ
it was two days later when anybody saw the young capone on the streets, after the trucks of men came through she would be able to start the operation. she had eyes and ears in factories, distillaries and pretty much all business across the city. beatrice and gio were walking down the street, minding their business as they were not too far from the cafe they had heard served coffee. just her luck, her hat flew off behind her as a huge gush of cold air hit the two midwesterners. she cursed loudly before turning around to come eye to eye with a blue eyed man. her blue eyes pierced into his soul, like he was made of glass. gio didn't like them staring at one another, so he snatched her hat from the hands of a peaky blinder. bea raised her hand and gio flinched. she snatched her hat back, and gio sighed walking a few feet away. she watched him until he was at a certain length and she turned back to the nicely dressed blue eyed man. "thankyou, for getting my hat. i apologize about my cousin. he's a menace to society." she said tucking some hair behind her ear. he waved him off, "the names michael gray." he said holding out his hand. she eyed him curiously before shaking his, "bee monroe." she said giving him a childhood nickname and her alias. "bee." he said almost mesmerized. she took her hand away and slipped her hat back on, "stay warm out here. you'll catch a cold." she said a matter of factly before smiling and walking towards her cousin. tommy stood there watching them walk into the cafe before heading off to pol's house.
"i got her name!" michael said walking into the house, not realizing tommy was there with arthur. tommy quirked an eyebrow, "her name is bee." michael said and arthur sighed. "first name, last name michael. we've been over this how many times?" arthur said as john laughed from the kitchen. tommy sat their drinking his earl grey tea. "no no arthur, bee is good. beatrice is her name." he said. "beatrice is her first name, shes called bea or bee though." tommy said confirming what he overheard at dinner the two nights before and at the bar. whoever she was with called her those three names. "she was with her cousin but she didn't say his name." michael added and tommy nodded. "are we gonna talk about this or the number of guys that just so happened to show up when she did?" arthur questioned and tommy sighed. "i was just getting to that." he said tensely. "apparently the woman you fancy, has an ulterior motive to being here and of course we are going to get to the bottom of it." arthur explained and tommy tensed softly. he had a sneaky suspicion on why she was here but there was seriously no way she'd be involved in something sketchy. "i know what your thinking michael, its true. my contact in london already confirming." tommy said setting his now empty tea cup down, trying to convince himself. "oi sit down and no more business talk!" polly said coming in and shoving her son towards the empty seat.
ꕥ
bea and gio sat across from each other in the cafe, laughing and chatting about life and childhood memories. the two hadn't had some time with each other in months, with all the running around gio was doing for her brothers. "please tell me that one day you'll get out." she said seriously swirling her coffee. he sighed, "gio please." she said leaning forward and grabbing his hand. "you know your mother would have wanted that for you. to make a life of your own, away from the capones." she said softly and he nodded. "i know i know, once this job is over I'm gone. i'm heading someplace warm." he smiled and that made bea happy. she took her hand away and looked down and that's when she heard shouting. but not directed towards her but a group of men were going in on one of her men that her brother hired. her head shot up, looking at gio. "lets go!"" gio" he said not wanting to be caught in the middle of this. gio took ahold of bea's hand and they ran off the way the way they had come from. shots rang out and that made bea stop in her tracks. "bea we have to go, they cant know." gio said grabbing and then pulling her further and further towards the hotel. the guys that shot her men walked out and shot twice into the air, causing bea and others to scream. the two continued to run, their hearts beating fast. the shelbys heard the gunshot down the road and they stood up. they came outside after the next two rang out. bea and gio continued to walk back towards the hotel along with other patrons, with bea panicking at the situation. gio had an arm around her middle back, pushing her to keep walking. tommy walked out in front of pol's residence and just as luck would have it, bea and gio walking past. bea held onto gio, shaken.
out of all the years she worked with her brothers, she'd never been remotely close to the scene of the crime after she witnessed one back on new york. they made very sure to keep her away. tommy caught eye of the girl and watched as she walked with her cousin. polly eyed him from behind, smirking just a little bit. tommy of course then going into cleanup mode. as soon as gio and bea made it back to the hotel, she clung to marco with gio explaining what had happened. marco and her laid in her bed, as he rubbed her back trying to soothe her thoughts as she stared at the dresser. gio sent word back through a trusted wales associate. bea could not fathom how her brothers could live this life and continue to go on like nothing happened. bea turned towards marco and cuddled into him, unsure if she could leave his side again in brimingham.
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i know i know, there was not a lot but this is just setting up the tension and high stakes !!!
#michael gray#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#polly gray#arthur gray#al capone#michael gray x oc#john shelby#Tommy Shelby x oc#Tommy Shelby fic#Thomas Shelby#Thomas Shelby x oc#Thomas Shelby fic
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A Man's Philosophy
A/N: another installment of tommy & his darling wife au! aka. Tommy x Bee. this one is set in 1919... the first time they slept together. <;3
warnings: not canon. sexual themes. mild spice. minors, DNI. The sexual themes in this fic are not suitable for minors.
2.9k words.
i take no credit for the gif!
Tommy stood in front of the mirror at his hotel room in London, straightening his tie and smoothing his suit jacket, preparing for his fifth date with Bee. He had told himself that he had to be patient. That she was young, beautiful, still venturing out and seeing the world for what it really was, not the picturesque world her parents had painted for her.
He had kissed her already, and to say he was getting antsy to have more of her was the understatement of the century. He craved her touch, wanted her, more than he had ever wanted anyone–anything in a long time.
So when he pulled up in front of her flat in London that Saturday evening in his best suit, he knew he had bad intentions running through his mind. Lustful intentions. He wanted to impress her. Wanted to impress her so badly that he had called in a few favors and got them both a table at a popular London club. She gasped when he told her he managed to get the two of you in, and squealed on the other end of the line. He instructed her to be ready by seven, and to pick whatever dress she wanted from Harrods and that he would swing by on his way back to Birmingham with a wad of cash so she could buy it. Bee told him that was too much but he refused, insisting. So, she indulged him. And the indulgence was worth it.
He parked the car momentarily, walking up the three flights of stairs to her apartment, rapping on the door. Bee opened it quickly, standing in front of him in a knee length dress, small bunches of beaded embroidery dotting the light blue fabric that clung to her curves. She’d thrown a black shawl over her shoulders, eager to get out of her stuffy apartment on this warm spring evening.
“Thomas,” she smiled at him. Her hair was perfectly waved and her makeup was–well she’d go so far as to say she’d intentionally made it slightly sultry. He didn’t say anything as she closed your door behind her, setting the lock. “Do I look alright?” She asks subconsciously, hand moving to her hair.
Tommy shook his head, “You look perfect.” he told Bee before pressing her against your door and kissing her, arms caging her in on either side.
When he pulled away she was breathless, heart racing. “Good evening to you,” Bee giggled.
“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her down the stairs. He led Bee to his car, where he opened the passenger side door.
“Do you have anything else planned for the evening?” She asks as he slides in the driver's seat, starting the engine, his hand immediately going to her thigh.
He leans in towards her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I think we’re gonna go to this club, eat something, drink some, maybe dance if you like,” he pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “And then I’m gonna bring you back to my hotel room and do unspeakable things to you,” he rasped, nipping her earlobe.
An unfamiliar heat pooled between her thighs and she let out a small gasp. “Oh,” was all she could say in response.
Bee had been frank with Thomas about most things he had inquired about, but the one thing she had been not too eager to admit was her lack of experience with men.
Thomas was the first man who ever showed any real interest in her. Sure, there had been boys in school who asked her to the dances and took her to movie houses, but they were never any relationships of significance. She’d see them a few times and then it would fizzle out, they would move on to the next girl and she would move on to the next boy. She had been kissed before, but not with the passion and heat that Thomas gave her, no, certainly not. And she’d certainly never seen a man naked before.
So the prospect of this man, this intoxicating, powerful, handsome, brilliant man taking her to bed tonight was in short–overwhelming.
He drove them to the club, one called Embassy, and held his breath that she would still be as excited about it now as she was earlier in the week when he had told her. And she was. But he could sense some sort of hesitation, or reservation that she had about something.
He ordered them both a drink and let her pick what she wanted to eat. He had told her on their first date that nothing was off limits and encouraged her to order whatever she wanted. Bee eyed him apprehensively from across the table after she’d ordered and he had asked for the same thing. He licked his lips and smirked at her. “You look stunning,” he said from across the table.
Bee blushed under his gaze. “Thank you, Thomas.”
After they both ate their food, Tommy took Bee to the dance floor, where he held her closely against his chest, a possessive hold on her body, daring any other man to ask her to dance. No one did.
After an hour or so of dancing, Bee’s legs were tired and she asked Tommy if they could return to your table. “How about we just leave, hm?” he asked as she led him back to your table.
She turned around when they reached their table, and he pulled out a wad of cash, putting enough on the table to pay for the meal and a generous tip. “Leave? So soon?” She asks, heart beating quickly in her chest.
“The plans I have for us will last quite a while longer, angel.” he says, the baritone of his voice sparking something alight inside her, his hand grazing her lower back as he pulls his jacket back over his shoulders.
She knew she had to tell him, she just didn’t know when or how or what to even say or how to bring it up. She didn’t want him needy and panting above her before she blurted out that she’d never done this before, but she also didn’t want the shock of seeing him naked in front of her written all over her face either.
The ride back to his hotel was quiet. He massaged her thigh with one hand while the other steered the car. Bee’s mind whirred, every nerve in her body on alert.
He handed the keys to the valet and led her up to his hotel room on the top floor. “Thomas,” she started, shrugging her shawl off her shoulders as he went to pour himself a drink.
“Hm?” he mumbled, the glass clinking against the barcart in the corner.
“I um, I don’t know exactly how to say this but–” he cut her off, striding across the room to her, grasping her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.
“You’re an excellent dancer,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers.
She stepped out of her shoes, shrinking by a few inches. He cupped her face in his hands, the metal of his rings cool against her skin.
“Thomas,” she started to try again when he pulled away, placing open mouthed kisses to the side of her neck. “Thomas, I–”
“Sh… let me take care of you.” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, causing a moan to escape her lips.
Take care of me? Bee’s mind whirred with more questions than she thought you had. Her knowledge of sex was limited to the information she had heard her girlfriends talk of, and most of it was that they left more dissatisfied than when they started–that sex was for the man and very little for the woman.
He pulled her from your intrusive thoughts, literally, and into the bedroom of his suite. Eyeing her, he unclasped his cufflinks, letting them fall to the dresser with a clatter. He pulled his holster off his shoulders, setting it on the chair by the door. His sleeve garters and braces were next, and, with a sudden sense of boldness and maybe intuition, she walked over to him and began unbuttoning his shirt. He smiled softly down at her as he began to unzip her dress in the back. Bee’s heart raced, unsure if she was really ready for this. And calculating when exactly was the right time to lay this in his lap.
After his shirt was discarded, he helped her step out of her dress. Bee stood there, in nothing more than her bra and underwear. He let out a low growl, backing her against the bed. She fell onto it when the backs of her knees made contact with the mattress. He climbed on top of her, pressing needy kisses onto the tops of her breasts, grinding his hips against hers.
She let out a surprised yelp, which caused him to pause his actions, if only for a second, to look at her in the eyes. “Are you alright?” he asked, noticing the color draining from her face.
“Thomas–I–I have something I need to tell you,” she stammered, her hands on his chest. “I’ve never–never been with a man before.” She tells him and his facial expression changes. He climbs off of her slowly, standing up and moving to the nightstand where he grabs a cigarette and a match. “I’m sorry–I should’ve told you long ago.” She says, tears stinging her eyes.
He doesn’t meet your expression, jaw clenched as he takes his first drag on that cigarette. A million thoughts slam into his mind at once. What was he doing with a good girl like her? A good, innocent, smart girl? He would be her ruin, there was no way around it. But oh, he cared for her. He’d only known her barely a month and he cared for her. His world had changed that moment when she’d made him drop his bottle of whiskey, ruining his suit pants. He’d looked up and looked into her eyes and there she was. Like she was made for him. Like she’d just been dropped into his lap.
These conflicting thoughts wrestled in his mind as he smoked, looking out the window.
“Thomas,” she said in a small voice. “Thomas, say something, please.”
He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, clearing his throat. He shook his head. “You’re too good for me,” she opened her mouth to speak but he continued. “I’ve had a feeling all along that we’ve been together, but this just confirmed it for me, angel. You’re far too good for a man like me.”
She sat on the end of the bed, getting cold, rubbing her arms for warmth, feeling more bare than ever. She chewed the inside of her cheek nervously, tears threatening to spill over her waterline.
“Sweetheart,” he says softly, sitting on the bed next to her. “You deserve a man who will give you a comfortable, safe, brilliant life. A man who doesn’t have blood on his hands, who doesn’t have nightmares every night of the horrors he’s seen. A man who doesn’t drink whiskey like water and chainsmoke,” he said, chuckling to himself as he eyed his pack of cigarettes on the nightstand, aching for another one right then. “You deserve an honest, good man to take care of you. Not a man like me.”
Bee’s heart cracked in her chest. She could feel it. The last month of getting to know Thomas, she knew he was rough. She knew he had demons. She knew he was a dangerous man who was involved in dangerous circles. She knew he was a man who did what he wanted and didn’t care what others thought or how it impacted their lives. Hell, the other night he had just admitted to marrying his younger brother off to a Gypsy family to put an end to a feud and didn’t care what his brother had to say about it. But, past all of these negative qualities, she could see something in his eyes when he laughed. Something in his eyes when he smiled, when he looked at her. When he told her to order whatever you want. She could see pieces of a wonderful man, pieces she wanted to put together, pieces she was willing to cut herself on if it meant being just a little closer to him. To his heart.
“But what if I want a man like you, Thomas?” She says softly, eyes locking with his.
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” he said, shaking his head.
“I do. I know how you are. I’ve heard of what you do. And despite all of it, I’ve still answered the phone every time you’ve called, and gone every place with you that you’ve asked. I want to be with you, Thomas. Please believe me.”
And he did. Oh he did. A romantic, optimistic piece of him that he thought he left in the tunnels in France resurfaced in that moment and he kissed her. He kissed her deeply, rolling her onto her back on the bed.
“Are you sure?” he asked, pulling away, his forehead against hers.
“Yes, Thomas.”
“Because, after we do this–I don’t think I can ever let you go.” he said, his nose brushing against hers.
“I don’t want you to let me go.”
She wasn't sure how long later, he rolled off of her, breathless. She thought certainly he was going to die at any moment. “Are you alright?” She asked, breathless yourself. Were they both going to die here? Now? Like this?
He smiled, a hand on his chest, the other dramatically draped over his forehead. “I am blissed out of my fucking brains, yes, I am alright. More than alright, actually.”
He went to the washroom in his suite and she heard him running water. He returned with a warm rag and proceeded to begin to clean her up, starting with her most intimate parts. She hissed at the sensation, body sore.
“Sorry,” he apologized, applying less pressure. “You may be sore for a little while.”
He ran the warm rag over her inner thighs, her stomach, breasts and neck, pressing gentle kisses to your temples. “Is that how it always is?” She asks as he throws the cloth to the floor, satisfied with how she was cleaned.
“What?” he asked, lying down next to her, pulling them both under the blankets.
“Sex, is it always like that?” She asks. She wanted to ask if it was always that intense, that deep, that pleasurable, but in fear of being too frank, refrained.
“With me, yes, it will be.” he said, pressing a full kiss to her lips.
“I didn’t think–didn’t think it would feel like that for me.” She says, blushing.
“Why would you say that?” he asks, thumb gently stroking her cheek.
“My friends–the ones who have been with men before–they say that it’s not really pleasurable for a woman. That it’s more for the man's satisfaction than anything.”
Tommy chuckled. “That’s a boy's philosophy, Darling,” he eyed her with a gaze so caring, so kind, her heart could’ve burst at that moment. “Your pleasure comes before mine, and the day I forget that,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Remind me, eh?”
Thomas Shelby never forgot.
The next morning Bee was awoken with Tommy’s head between her legs, her calves draped over his shoulders, body already trembling.
“Thomas,” she moaned as the pleasure overwhelmed her.
Tommy smirked, pulling away long after she was satiated and reached into the nightstand. A glittering diamond anklet was stashed there safely, ready for this exact moment.
“What’s that?” she asked as he pressed kisses to her ankle, her foot, her leg.
“Something for you to wear,” he smirked, loving how it looked on her.
“Does it mean anything?” she asked.
He smiled softly, running a hand up and down her smooth, soft legs. “Means you’re mine,” he said, crawling on top of her, kissing her, grinding his hips against hers.
“I’m yours!” she gasped.
He paused, pressing his forehead into hers, breathing heavily, head swimming with lust, desire overtaking every sense. “I’m the only one? The only one to ever see you like this?” he asked.
“Yes,” she breathed, hands cupping his face gently as he pressed his lips against hers. “Do you like that?” she asked apprehensively.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Yes, my sweet girl, I love it,” he kissed her again. “You’re perfect. Made for me.”
“Just for you, Tommy,” she breathed.
He made love to her slowly, languidly, making her tremble under his touch, aching for more.
“I think you’ll regret awakening this–sexual side of me, Thomas,” she giggled as they got cleaned up for lunch.
“Why’s that?” he asked absentmindedly, focusing on shaving.
“Because I think I may give you a run for your money on who has the bigger appetite,” she laughed, pulling her stockings up her legs.
He raised his eyebrows, eyeing her in the mirror, the hungry way she looked at him. “Fine by me, Angel. Fine by me.”
tag list: if tumblr isn't allowing me to tag you, please see this link for reasons why the tags aren't working. (most likely #3)
@peakyltd @cctoma @lyarr24 @shelbyteller @mrsnshelby88 @skydisneylover @babygaga67 @mariarozasworld @kemillyfreitas @cyphah
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x ofc#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby x bee sutton#tommy shelby x bee#thomas shelby x oc#thomas shelby x ofc#thomas shelby#tom shelby#peaky fookin blinders#peakywomen#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#sneakyblinders#my au <3
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Wake Up
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Pregnant Reader
Summary: You get word that Tommy got shot at a deal gone wrong, and you stay at his bedside.
Warning: gun violence, smoking, hints of sexual content, blood mentions, cursing, alcohol
Polly sensed it was going to be a wretched day.
Maybe it was how she read the leaves in her tea or the way the sun crept behind the clouds as if it was hiding from something, but Polly knew her predictions weren't wrong.
It started when she visited you and Tommy's space. You weren't in sight in the living quarters or the kitchen, but she heard you retching your guts out in the bathroom.
She hurries her steps and holds your hair away from your face. Once you finish, you couldn't muster the strength to hold yourself so Polly helped you to your bed and tucked you in.
Your skin was pale as the moon and cold as the rain. Polly saw the signs and walked away from you, knowing the truth:
You were pregnant with a Shelby.
She made herself useful and tried to clean around the rooms. It was no secret that Polly loved you most in the family.
You met her at the church. Raised catholic in a nearby orphanage, she loved how you memorized all of the hymns by heart and spoke in a few languages for the prayers.
She almost adopted you on the spot, but she was raising her niece and nephews (and weren't they a handful). With an absent father, she became their parent, teaching them ways of respect and honor.
It took a lot of prayers and hassling to get them in their Sunday's best and go to the service at the church. She shouldn't have thought all of the children would behave as Tommy took an interest in you as you sang in the choir.
"Oi, keep it in your pants, Tommy" Arthur joked, but receiving a slap on the head from his aunt.
She lowers herself for only Tommy to hear and spoke a few words that the young boy memorized up to this day.
"I forbid you to ever advance on that precious girl, Thomas."
But when has Thomas Shelby ever been obedient?
Since the starting of his young teenage years, he has been chasing you like a bee to a flower. You allowed him to make himself look like a fool, but you also knew that you were quite attracted to the Birmingham boy.
The two of you began to date. He never cared that you didn't have a blood family and you didn't care he was dead poor. Your love was like gold, and that was enough for the two of you. Even after the war, he proposed to you right on the spot of the train station.
"I know I don't have a ring on me, but life is too short to take things for granted. I don't want to lose you like my innocence love."
You gave a tearful yes and you were both married within the week. He never told you how monstrous the war was to him, fearing that you would run away. But you reassured that even if he danced with the devil himself, you would have still loved him with all of your heart.
Polly couldn't have been more proud to call you a Shelby. She thinks back on those days when suddenly, a car parks viciously in front of the street.
She suddenly knew what terror would face the family when she recognized it was Thomas' car, but only came out John...
who had blood on his face.
She races towards him outside as he had the same pace.
"Poll... something happened... Tommy, he-" John could barely get a word out, possibly from all of the trauma he has just recently faced.
Polly hugs him tightly, even if he was a grown man, he felt like a scared little boy.
She lets him go and the two go inside to wake you up from your slumber.
"My dear..." Polly softly whispered to you as you groggily woke up.
You squint your eyes as you adjust from the morning's event.
"Poll? What are you doing here?" She was about to answer until you saw John distraught.
"Whose blood is that?" you whimpered, scared of the answer that was yet to come.
"I'm so sorry, we thought we were picking up a shipment... but those bloody basters tricked us. Tommy got shot." John said, trying to choke back a sob.
Your throat burns as well as your eyes as you start to feel pain
"Dear, he's in the hospital, but we need to get you ready." Poll explained calmly as your mind swirled with hurtful thoughts.
"No no no no this can't be happening. I-" you get cut off as you screamed out your pain.
Polly holds your heaving body as she turns to John, signaling to get the car ready. She begins to softly shush you as she soothes your hair.
"They can't grow up without a father, Poll." you said, crying as you protectively wrap yourself.
"I know dear, I know..."
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The doctors told you and the family that the bullet almost hit his heart. They told you that he would wake up in the next 48 hours, but it felt like you waited for eternity.
You vowed to stay at his side till he would open his eyes and everyone worried for your health. Poll told the family that you were expecting, so they took turns to watch with you, worried for your sake as well.
Now it was the second day, and Thomas didn't wake up. Arthur was with you at the time, but you told him you were fine as you both had lunch by the end of the bed.
He gets up from his chair and hugs you while you're still sitting. You give him a small smile and he made his way out.
You return your gaze on your husband and held his frozen-like hand.
"Wake up Tommy... I can't do this without you, we can't do this without you." You pause for a moment and scoot your chair closer to the bed, molding his palm on your belly.
"And I'm not talking about your siblings darling, but your baby..."
You take a shaky breath and continued. "You're going to be a father, Thomas Shelby. You're going to clean their diapers, hold them when they get fussy, teach them how to walk, maybe I'll even let you teach them to drive the car."
You chuckled lightly, but a sad tear escapes your eye.
"But you can't do that if you don't wake up. Or I swear to the Lord above and the devil below I will yank you by the foot to the land of the living."
You shake your head from your foolish words and drop his hand softly back on his side, looking away to regain a steady breath.
"My wife swearing on the devil? Now I know I did something wrong." a voice croaked up.
You gasp and turn to see your husband staring straight back at you with loving, tired eyes.
You launch yourself at him and kiss him, warming up his face with your hands.
Once you let go of his face, you slap his arm in frustration.
"You stubborn ass wipe, you had to try to get yourself killed over what? You are a fool Thomas Shelby, for giving your wife a bloody heart attack."
Thomas breaks into a tiny smirk at your reaction but quickly falls as he senses your state.
"You look like you have slept in ages love, it's not good for the baby."
You wipe your tears with the back of your hand and chuckle lightly.
"So you did hear me?"
Thomas slowly reaches your hand and squeezes it as much as he could.
"Every word..."
You get up from your chair and snake your way on the bed to lay with him, being careful of his wounds.
"I thought I was going to lose you, Tommy." you sniffled as hot tears stained his bandaged torso.
He hisses as he tries to wrap his arms around you, but results in just kissing your forehead.
"I'm sorry."
You shake your head and strain your serious gaze on him.
"I'm serious Tommy, you could have died. You may have cheated the reaper but what gruesome men are going to do next to you, or worse... us?"
Guilt courses through his veins as he breathes outward through his nose, trying to find the right words to say.
"After I get released from here, I'm not going back to work. Not until we figure out what we can do for our future."
You're taken back from his statement. "Are you certain? I wasn't trying to suggest for you to leave permanently."
Thomas wills all of his strength to kiss you and wraps his tired arms around you.
"I have never been more certain in my life. The family will understand. I have been fighting wars and men my whole life, but now I'm fighting for you and this little bugger." he says as he softly touches your midsection. You smile up at him and return your passionate kiss.
Thomas Shelby kept his word that day, and never have you seen such a driven and changed man in your life.
He vowed to be yours, and forever he shall.
#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x pregnant reader#tommy shelby x pregnant reader
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VelvetCardiganBucky’s Recommendations 2021: Week 5 | January 24-30
Welcome to week 4 of my recommendation, if you would like to be featured on a future list, I follow the hashtag #ktkvcbreadinglist, message me, tag me in your future works, or reblog this post and link to your story, one-shot, Masterlist, writing challenge, etc.
Be aware some if not most stories and writers on this list are meant to be consumed by an audience of those 18+. My blog is also an 18+ blog.
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Week 6 »
My Masterlist
Steve Rogers
(Mini)Series:
Tainted Love: Part 1 by @aimless-imagines-for-fun » Steve Rogers x Female!Reader — Everyone teased Steve for being “a boy scout”, but you find out he’s not so innocent after all. | So I found this to be really humorous how the reader was so blunt with Steve. The ending was 🥵 and I’m really hoping the writer, writes the second part soon!
One-Shots:
Aunt Flo by @egcdeath » Steve Rogers x Female!Reader — your monthly friend decides to visit you while staying over at steve’s. | If you are looking for something fluffy and funny, I highly recommend reading this one.
Ransom Drysdale
Headcanons:
Strip Twister by @buckyownsmylife » Ransom x Reader — While on a ski trip with both your parents you guys play a game of strip Twister. | This was really good and I wish it hadn’t ended. The smut is also really good!
One-Shots:
In Spite of it All by @kleohoneyao3 » Ransom Drysdale x Reader — after dating Ransom for almost six months, you learn he was only dating you to spite his family | This was angsty yet so sweet in the end. Soft Ransom, is something I can get behind.
Chris Evans
One-Shot:
New Dad by @kiwisomething » Chris Evans x Wife!Reader — Chris is in the middle of an interview when his little girl starts crying. | It’s so fluffy I’m gonna die, is how I would describe it! I need more of new dad Chris!
Drabbles:
First time he looks after you when you’re not well by @you-taste-so-sweet » Chris Evans x Reader — This one is based on my own fear of dentists and if you haven’t had your wisdom tooth extracted yet - prepare yourself. It’s not nice! | As someone who had a horrible experience getting their wisdom teeth removed, I loved reading this fluffy piece. Definitely a good read after a long day.
Andy Barber
One-Shots:
Silence in the Library by @angrythingstarlight » Dark!Professor Andy Barber x Reader — You have no idea why you’re failing Professor Barber’s class, but he’s going to show you how to earn an A. | If you are looking for something that is Dark with some good smut, this is for you! I read this to get my mind off some stuff and it worked the trick!
Bucky Barnes
(Mini)Series:
A sea of thunders by @asukascoffeeramblings » Viking!Bucky Barnes x Reader — The Vikings took over your land, despite your brother’s (the king) efforts to keep them away. If that wasn’t bad enough, one of their best soldiers, Varg(Bucky), decides he needs to have you. Reader’s adventure as she’s taken by force from her home and brought into a world she doesn’t understand. The only thing she knows for sure is that, she belongs to Varg now. | I’m a huge Vikings fan, like I loved reading about them when I was growing up, and hearing about how my family is probably related to them, beside the point. I love the shows The Last Kingdom and Vikings, so when this came up on my dashboard I knew I had to read this. I’m so freaking glad that I did. I LOVE it. Trust me you will love it too! Viking Bucky is everything. I promise even though it’s only 3 chapters in, and it’s still so amazing!
One-Shots:
Rip and Tear by @buckysbee » soft!dark!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader — something either went terribly wrong or terribly right down in the water of that river. | Let me just say this one-shot as a whole surprised me, it is so good but the ending just leaves you shocked because you don’t see it coming. I would highly recommend reading this, and I hope there is more to this, but at the same time, the ending is so perfect. Bee you did wonderfully.
Even when I’m mad I’m still holding on to you by @river-soul » Bucky Barnes x Reader — When Maria Hill tries to convince you to leave behind your job as an analyst for a more active role in the field, Bucky doesn’t take it well. [Language, mentions of breeding and explicit sex. 18+] | The smut in this is so freaking good and so is the plot. I would just like to thank the writer for the gift that this one-shot was.
It Never Stops by @sxbby-barnes » Bucky Barnes x Reader — A lead in the ruins of Sokovia brings a face from the past back. | Reader is badass simple as that and the plot is just so good. I hope this isn't the end of seeing the interaction between the reader and Bucky in this universe. Also, I love how Sam and Bucky are written in this, it's exactly how I imagine them to be.
Jeremy Renner
(Mini)Series:
Trouble by @nbarnes » Sheriff!Jeremy Renner x Outlaw! Reader — Based off of P!nk’s music video Trouble. | I was a huge fan of P!nk growing up and I love Jeremy Renner, so to see someone making a one-shot/mini-series based on the video makes me so happy. I’m so excited to see where Natasha takes it.
Thomas Shelby
One-Shots:
Little Daisy by @kadwrites » Thomas Shelby x Reader — little daisy steals tommy’s heart | This will just fill you with joy, trust me, it’s got a baby and Thomas Shelby, what more could you ask for?
Misc.
(Mini)Series:
The Devil I Know: The Cat and Mouse Game by @qyllenhaal » PresidentSon!Sebastian Stan x Reader mentions Senator!Chris Evans x Reader — Reader isn’t sure how she gets invite to the White House dinner, but she spends the night trying not to think about her former flame Senator Chris. How could she when the President’s son has his eyes on her? | Stop what you're doing and if you are into smut and semidark!Sebastian this is for you! This series is so good and the smut is so good, Elle you are a fantastic writer, please tell me this isn’t the end.
Writers
@syntheticavenger my power went out Tuesday night so what better did I have to do than binge-read the masterlist of Synths. My two favorite stories are Ticking Clock a Dark!Andy Barber x Reader and Bridges to Burn & Places to Run, ParoleOfficer!Bucky Barnes x Criminal!Reader and CrimeBoss Thor x Criminal!Reader. Synths put so much thought into bringing all the characters she writes to life, you sometimes almost feel as if you are watching them play out on TV.
Shout Out To My...
@the-ce-horniest-book-club — if you have heard of @the-ss-horniest-book-club and @the-th-horniest-book-club, than you hopefully you’ve heard of Chris Evan’s one. They are the sister blog and like Sebastian and Tom Hiddleston one will have themed days and challenges involving the characters that Chris has played and him himself! I look forward to seeing what is to come!
#ktkvcbreadinglist#recommendations masterlist#rec list#masterlist#ktk recommendation list#ktk fic rec#ktk rec ‘21#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale headcanon#one shot#senator!chris#senator!chris evans x reader#president's son!sebastian stan#president’s son!sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan#chris evans#sheriff!jeremy renner x outlaw! reader#jeremy renner#the chris evans hbc#th hbc#hbc ss#viking!bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#chris evans x reader#dark andy barber x reader#andy barber
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Drunk on Shadows
Peaky blinders John Shelby x reader
Warnings: Fluff. Steamy kisses. Power play. They’re criminals guys, they do bad things.
Word Count: 2,557
Note: I had multiple vague requests for a needy himbo John, and one that sent me into a tizzy, so I joined this all together for this one.
You sat near the fire and watched the flames flicker in the dark as the others talked around you. You were exhausted, every last nerve you had felt raw, but John's bright eyes were not easily ignored. You let him lead you to the bonfire and surrounded yourself with music and empty chatter.
John bounced around the gathering, talking and cheering with everyone one by one before he repeated his rounds. Johnny Dogs was loud and rowdy as always. He would circle the party and clap the backs of men or flirt with a woman. Bottles passed around to keep lips loose and tongues wagging.
You felt like a bump on a log as you watched everyone. You kept to the fringes of the party, watching everyone with a calmness that subconsciously pushed people away without being unfriendly. You didn't have it in you to shelf your troubles from your mind and chat like your head wasn't clouded.
"Love?" John said as his hand rested on your shoulder. "Are you alright? You don't look like you're enjoying yourself."
You smiled weakly up at him.
"I'm fine, really."
"Why are you lying to me?" He frowned and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.
"Your mind has been a box of bees all week," he murmured into your hair as he reached for your hand. "You really should relax and enjoy yourself."
He stepped in front of you and his eyes lit up as a mischievous grin split across his face and he pulled you to your feet. You giggled as you tried to tug yourself away but his grin only widened as he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. You laughed and tried to hold on once he lifted you in the air and spun you around again and again until you were dizzy.
When he sat you back down he grabbed your arms and urged you to run around in circles with the fire between you, going faster and faster like children. He let go of one of your arms to spin you and crashed you into his chest to fall in a heep of laughter on his lap on the ground.
"That's my girl," he murmured as the laughter died down. "There you are."
He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before he kissed your cheek. You sighed and melted against him.
"Thank you," you said softly as you patted his arm around your waist. "Sometimes I get lost in my head, but you always know how to pull me out."
"That's what I'm for, love," he said with a sad smile as he squeezed you tighter. "You're just like my bloody brother sometimes. You get lost in there," he tapped your temple, "but I can find you when you need it. I can do that much."
John was known as the carefree brother, the Shelby that came back from the war without a mark, but you knew different. All three had their ways with coping, and John was like Tommy in his need for control, but his execution was entirely different.
Tommy ruled others with an iron fist. He demanded allegiance and rules to be followed without question. He demanded immediate results. He was king, but his head would cloud and become dark and it affected his rule.
John never showed anyone how dark his mind was or when he was lost in worry. The mantle he picked up had been the jester of the brothers and he took it seriously. He was the relief in the pain and no matter how dark his own mind was he would drag others from their sorrows or at least not be another burden. Many people thought he had no ambition or thoughts of his own; a jester with a violent streak when Tommy needed another soldier, or a lover boy that flirted with every woman who breathed in his direction, but you knew different. His friendly demeanor wasn't exactly an act, but it wasn't as shallow as most thought. It was just as much an armor as Tommy's brains or Arthur's violence. It was tactical.
You shuddered in his arms as you realized the implication of comparing you to his brother.
"You cold, love?" He asked as he rubbed your arms. "We're already nearly on top of the fire."
"You're sweet," you murmured as you turned to kiss his cheek, cupping the other in your hand. "What did I do to deserve you?"
"Well you're the smartest woman I've ever met for one," he smiled. "And you're bloody gorgeous to boot."
You giggled as he twisted and pinned you to the ground, his arms holding his lopsided grin above you. His eyes held a glint that caught your breath.
"I think I'm sick of sharing you for the night," his tone was cocky as his hand pushed your skirts higher.
You giggled, squirming beneath him to catch his hand.
"People are watching," you whispered as your brows raised with your struggle. "You can't just take me in front of God and everyone."
"I'm sure they've all averted their eyes by now," John teased as he leaned forward to steal another kiss. "Johnny Dogs is no different than a cat in the room."
You gasped and pushed on his chest until you both were sitting up. His want emboldened you. His eyes were playful but quickly filling with lust, pupils blown out and drooping half lidded. Your hand found his chin and held him from meeting your lips with his.
"John Shelby," you whispered with authority, watching his eyes flicker at his name. "I said no. Be good."
He pressed against your hand like a dog pulling his leash, testing the boundaries. Your fingers wrapped his jaw and you pressed harder until he stilled. His eyes traveled your face, down your neck, your chest and back up. You waited until his eyes met yours again.
"Tell me what you want, (Y/N)," he breathed. "I'll do it."
You felt a jolt go through you at his words. He was pliant in your hand, his hungry eyes wandering your frame when you weren't forcing him to meet your eye. You were surrounded by people but his eyes never left you. It made you bold. It made you confident.
"You want me?" You asked as you lifted his chin higher and curled your lip in a half smile.
"You know I do," he matched your smile, challenging what you were to do next.
You leaned forward and bushed your lips along his neck, blowing cool air into his ear until his head tilted up from your hand.
"Then come find me in the dark," you whispered before you playfully licked the outline of his earlobe. "Say your goodbyes, count to ten, and come find me. That's an order, soldier."
He shook himself out of your hand and looked at you, his eye wide for a moment before the lust took over, dulling the surprise and smoothing his expression to a lazy smile.
"Yes," he hummed. "I can do that."
His hand grazed your calf, pushing the skirts up again. You tsked and his warm hand stopped cold along your outer thigh in mid squeeze, a sheepish grin along his face.
"You only touch when I say you can, John," you chastised as you pulled his hand from your leg. "Do you understand?"
"But I want you now," He whined under his breath.
"Soon, love," you soothed with a kiss.
You stood up and dusted your dress off. You walked out of the ring of wagons that wrapped around the fire without any goodbyes. The cool night air smelled sweet.
Most people knew you didn't tell anyone you were leaving unless John was on your arm, parading you around to say his own goodbyes. He liked to warn everyone that the fun was leaving and they would have to entertain themselves. You liked to slip away into the shadows without a warning, the same way you liked to appear.
Outside of the ring the world was pitch black except for the sliver of moon that lit up the clear sky. You made your way to the tree line, your steps soft on open pasture. Once you met the trees, you looked behind you and heard John's roar of laughter and shadows flickering among the camp. Anytime now.
As if on cue, John's shape stopped between two wagons, his coat squaring his shape, but you'd know his shadow anywhere.
"Go get your girl, John," you heard Johnny cackle. "She's a right treat in the moonlight, innit she?"
John immediately shot for the trees and you jumped at his suddenness. You ran further in as the leaves crackled underfoot. You huffed as you ran deeper into the trees, knowing it wasn't a thick forest and you'd find the other side quickly if you didn't slow down.
You smiled, a plan forming loosely in your mind. You chirped, hearing John stop to listen for you.
"(Y/N)," he called, "Where are you, love?"
You paused, listening to the crash of the underbrush, and hid behind a massive tree. You chirped again and moved stealthily among the trees, stopping and calling along the way. You heard John grow exasperated as he followed you, a wisp leading him farther into the shadows. Always out of reach.
You stayed behind a tree and heard his footsteps trudge through the leaves closer to you. When he was just about to walk past your tree, you stepped in front of him with your finger on his lips before you stepped back. His face scrunched and he went to take a step forward but you raised your hand to stop him.
"Stay," you said and immediately giggled at ordering John like a dog, but he froze at your words and you couldn't help but feel the rush.
"You're not to touch me unless I say you can," you reminded him, growing braver. "You won't get what you want unless you play nice."
John put his foot down and shuffled anxiously in place, but he didn't step forward.
"(Y/N)," he pressed.
You gave him a look, daring him to ignore your demands, as you undid the fastens and pulled your dress over your head to reveal your thin slip in the slices of moonlight cutting through the branches above. His eyes danced over you.
He groaned, low and heavy; his hand instinctively flexing at his side. You threw your dress at him, the fabric hitting him in the face as you took another step back. It fell to the ground at his feet and you lifted a hand to motion him to follow you.
There's power in it; in coaxing him forward, in his bright eyes that begged you, in his outstretched hand that hesitated just before he touched you because he knew you told him he couldn't. And you yearned for that power. You needed it to anchor you and he knew that.
You led him backward to the edge of the trees, the knowledge that a pond was just on the other side. He followed you, two steps behind as if you would scold him for getting closer, or maybe he would break your rules if temptation was so close. You could tell John was getting restless, pent up as the rules stopped him from what he wanted to do. The delayed gratification far too delayed for his liking.
You stopped right at the edge before the clearing and John stepped directly in front of you, his nose almost touching yours and his whiskey breath on your lips.
"You've been a soldier," you challenged as you practically breathed his air.
You weren't sure whether it was the whiskey on his breath or the surge you got from making him listen, but you felt drunk, tipsy with lust. You couldn't see his eyes in the dark, hidden under his cap, and it annoyed you that his mouth was parted, panting for you, but you couldn't see his blown out pupils. You needed more.
"You follow Tommy's orders without so much as a blink," you taunted as you ran your hand up his arm, your fingers danced along his chest before you smacked his cap off of his head.
John didn't move as his cap flied off his head. Energy rolled off of him thick as the air before a storm breaks. You looked into his eyes, searching for an ounce of challenge, a modicum of his ever-present authority issues, but you found nothing but want.
He sat on the edge of your words waiting for an order, a way to please you, to make you happy. A way to close the gap.
"You say you want me, John," you whispered and leaned into him, dragging your lips up his neck to blow into his ear. "You so sure? I think that pretty thing by the campfire would have already let you between her legs. You'd have her following you around like a lost puppy before the sun rises. Her eyes were following you the entire night. She was green when you kissed me."
He cocked an eyebrow as he leaned away to look down at you, his eyes aflame.
"Why don't you find her, John?" You pressed. "She'd be a mess for you."
His hand raised, ever so slowly, until it was twitching beside your face.
"Because I'm a mess for you," he rasped. "Say the word, I'll happily make you scream loud enough to send her to her grave in envy."
You smiled as you stepped back.
"Take your coat off," you said, "I'll need a place to dry after our dip."
"Our?"
He shrugged his coat off as he followed you to the water's edge and laid his coat just far enough from the bank so the earth beneath it was dry.
"Would you rather stand on the bank and watch?" You teased as you kicked off your boots. "Then stand there like a good boy."
You walked backward in the water, knowing the cold water would make your slip translucent. You gasped as the water reached your hips and you splashed at John, his jaw locked as he watched you submerge yourself. You reached up, holding your hair above the water as you dipped to your shoulders and a growl rumbled from the shoreline like thunder.
"I'm growing tired of your games, love," he rumbled.
"Games?" You feigned confusion, stepping forward up into the air. Your slip clung to every curve, every last inch of your cold skin, illuminating you in the dark. "What games?"
He groaned, shuffling in place before he went to reach down--
"John Shelby don't you dare," you said as you stepped in front of him and grabbed his wrist. "No one's allowed to touch you but me."
"Let me earn it," he rasped as he twisted to pin your wrist in his grip. He leaned into you, his breath trailing up your neck, your ear, your jawline. "Tell me what you want, love."
You smiled as you reached and he groaned in your hand, the faintest touch a wildfire on his skin. You felt him rigged as you playfully mocked his moan back to him in his ear.
"Make me scream, John."
#john shelby#john shelby x reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#storytime with murderousginger
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Our Life Voiced Names A-Z
I heard some people wanted a list of the voiced names so far, so I took the time to copy down all of the names from A to Z. The names are under the cut to not clutter.
A
Aaron
Aayria
Abby
Ace
Adrienne
Aeon
Aeriie
Aesilng
Aga
Aine
Aisha
Aisling
AJ
Aki
Akira
Akua
Alaina
Alex
Alexis
Alfonzo
Ali
Alice
Alijah
Alison
Alvis
Alyssa
Amanda
Amber
Amelia
Amy
Anaïs
Andra
Andre
Andrew
Andri
Angel
Angela
Angie
Anima
Anita
Anna
Anna-Maria
Anne
Annie
Annika
Anthony
Antoine
Aoife
Arabella
Aram
Ari
Arielle
Arrow
Arthur
Arturo
Arty
Ash
Asher
Ashla
Ashleigh
Ashlyn
Aspen
Asteria
Astrid
Athena
Atticus
Audrey
Aura
Aurora
Austin
Autumn
Ayanna
B
Barbie
Basil
Beach
Beata
Bec
Becky
Bee
Belen
Ben
Bethany
Bia
Blue
Bobbi
Bonnie
Boyd
Braden
Brian
Briana
Brielle
Brittany
Brooke
Brooklyn
Bryony
Bunni
C
Cadence
Cai
Cam
Cami
Cara
Carmine
Casey
Cassidy
Cato
Cecilia
Cecily
Celestia
Cerise
Chance
Chantal
Chara
Charlie
Charmaine
Chelle
Chris
Christie
Christina
Chuck
Ciara
Ciaran
Cillian
Claire
Cléo
Coco
Col
Conny
Cookie
Cora
Cori
Corrina
Cristal
Cristina
Crystal
Cygnus
Cyina
D
Dan
Dani
Dante
Daphne
Dara
Dayton
December
Denny
Deremy
Desiree
Desmond
Destiny
Devyn
Dexter
Diamond
Diana
Diane
Dorothy
Duane
E
Eddie
Eden
Elaine
Elda
Eleanor
Elegance
Elena
Elenus
Elissa
Eliza
Elle
Ellie
Eluned
Elysa
Ember
Emilith
Emily
Emma
Emmy
Enjel
Ennae
Eric
Erica
Erii
Erin
Ester
Eve
Evren
Ezekiel
Ezra
F
Felicia
Felicity
Felix
Fianna
Finist
Finn
Flynn
Francesco
Franklin
G
Gabrielle
Gaby
Gail
Garnet
Gavin
Gemma
Genevieve
Gerry
Gigi
Gin
Giulia
Glen
Grace
Gray
Gwen
H
Haley
Halima
Hana
Hannah
Hanni
Haru
Hazel
Heather
Helena
Héloïse
Hime
Hiyori
Hollis
Holly
Hon
Hunter
I
Ian
Iga
Illidan
Imani
Irene
Iris
Isabel
Ishan
Isla
Isolde
Issa-Kabeer
Ivy
J
J.R.
Jacob
Jade
Jaden
Jaiet
Jake
Jan
Janice
Jas
Jasmine
Jasper
Jatin
Javi
Jax
Jay
Jaycie
Jazz
Jeannie
Jeff
Jemma
Jen
Jennifer
Jenny
Jess
Jesse
Jessica
Jessinia
Jill
Jinx
Joanie
Joanna
Joelle
Johanna
Jordan
Jordanna
Joseph
Josh
Josie
Joy
Juleyma
Juli
Julia
Julianne
Julien
June
Jupiter
Justina
K
Kaden
Kai
Kala
Kaleton
Kalina
Karat
Karen
Kat
Kate
Katelyn
Katrina
Kay
Kel
Kellie
Ken
Kendi
Kenton
Kevin
Kia
Kiara
Kiba
Kie
Kien
Kim
Kimberly
Kimory
Kira
Kirsty
Kisa
Kit
Knox
Kodie
Kozmo
Kra
Kristen
Kyan
L
Laëtitia
Lanz
Laura
Lauren
Lavender
Leaf
Leann
Leina
Leo
Leon
Leslie
Letty
Levi
Lex
Lexi
Lia
Libbi
Lidia
Lilith
Lillian
Lily
Lindsay
Lindt
Linley
Lisette
Liss
Livia
Lotus
Lucy
Luke
Luna
Lyla
Lyric
Lvsander
Lysella
M
Maddy
Madeline
Mae
Maggy
Mahari
Mai
Maia
Mali
Mallory
Malyia
Mandy
Marcel
Marcella
Marcia
Marco
Margaret
Mari
Maria
Marianne
Mariposa
Maris
Marissa
Marlene
Martina
Mary
Mary-Elizabeth
Mason
Matina
Matthew
Maus
Max
Maya
McKenzie
Megan
Mel
Melanie
Melissa
Melly
Melody
Merlin
Mia
Mich
Michael
Michelle
Michiko
Mickie
Mikaela
Mikey
Mimi
Mina
Minette
Mini
Mira
Miranda
Mishal
Missy
Mizuki
Molly
Monica
Mordaine
Morgan
Morgana
Moriah
Morina
Muriel
Mykaela
N
Nakira
Nancie
Natalie
Natasha
Nathaniel
Neelam
Nessa
Nessi
Niamh
Nicole
Nier
Night
Nikki
Nina
Noah
Noe
Noel
Nui
O
Oda
Oliver
Olivia
Ollie
Omar
Onyx
Opal
Ori
Osmond
Oumou
P
Paige
Parvati
Patience
Patrice
Patricia
Patrick
Peter
Philippe
Phoebe
Phoenix
Polly
Priya
Q
Querriana
Quinn
Quinniece
R
Rachel
Rain
Rainie
Ran
Randi
Raphaël
Raven
Rayne-Beau
Rayraye
Rebecca
Reed
Rei
Reina
Rémi
Ren
Revan
Rhiannon
Rhi-Rhi
Rhyne
Rika
Riley
Rini
Riona
Risa
Riven
Riza
Robyn
Rory
Rosa
Rose
Rosetta
Rosie
Rowan
Runa-Lucienne
Ruth
Ryan
Rye
S
Sabrina
Sage
Salem
Sam
Samantha
Sammi
Sandy
Sara
Saro
Sasha
Savannah
Season
Selena
Selkie
Serena
Shaelei
Shakyra
Shay
Shayla
Sheena
Shelbie
Sid
Sienna
Silvia
Simmy
Simon
Sinead
Skye
Skyla
Skylar
Soffia
Soleil
Sonja
Sora
Soraya
Stacey
Star
Stefan
Stevie
Stella
Steph
Stephanie
Stephen
Story
Susan
Suzy
Sydney
T
Tama
Tammy
Tanisha
Tanya
Taylor
Ted
Teddy
Terra
Terrence
Terry
Thomas
Thorgunna
Tiago
Tida
Tobias
Toki
Tokiko
Tom
Tommy
Tomoko
Trey
Tricia
Tristan
Twila
Tye
U
Uma
Undyne
V
V
Vaeril
Van
Vandy
Vaughn
Vaylin
Velise
Venla
Vera
Verly
Verv
Vesper
Vi
Vicky
Victor
Vina
Vincent
Violette
Vivi
Vivienne
W
Wendy
Westley
Whispthera
Winnie
Wonder
X
Xander
Xavier
Xiri
Y
Yasmin
Ylthin
Yon
Yoonie
Yuki
Yukino
Yuli
Yvette
Yvonne
Z
Zachary
Zack
Zae
Zariyah
Zayla
Zen
Ziya
Zo
Zoey
#our life beginnings & always#our life#ourlifeba#the final list if more names don't come out#last update- feb 17
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no one wants to dance anymore - f.s
Platonic! Finn Shelby x Shelby!Sister , Isaiah Jesus x Shelby!Sister
Warnings - swearing, talking of maternal death, talk of drug use, and verbal abuse
A/N - Finn and YN are probably 16/17 in this one
Word Count - 2,965
4:17 AM , Christmas Eve, 1925
The Shelby house was never quiet, had never been quiet , not since Rosalie Shelby had her children - Arthur, then Tommy, then the others. It had always been a house of chaos and mayhem, one of arguments and yells, of tears and makeups.
But in all the time the Shelby family had been alive, they had never heard an argument like this.
The Shelby twins - Finn and Y/N - had been practically attatched at the hip since birth, and since then, they'd barely ever argued , only frustrated snipes every once in a while. They were sixteen now, at that age where they frustrated Polly to no end , by constantly sneaking out and going drinking and smoking at the Garrison, though she never worried about them, not really - what reason did she have to be worried? They had each other's backs. And so, Polly was surprised, and none too happy, to be woken up in the early hours of Christmas Eve morn, by angered yells and screams downstairs. She could hear a babies cries too - probably John's newborn, woken up by the noise. It was typical, for this to happen, when all the siblings and their families were crowded into the terraced house they grew up in, a tradition for the family on Christmas Eve and Day.
******************************************************
"You are a fucking hypocrite Finn Shelby!" You hissed loudly, as he leant against the doorframe, that arrogant smirk on his face, though you knew well it was just a front for his anger. "Always bitching about Tommy's drug use and fucking Arthur's and Johnny's and then you do this?! Actually, less of a hypocrite and more of a down right arsehole!" Your voice raised on the last word, as you threw up your hands in frustration.
You'd always hated drugs, ever since you were a small child. You'd grown up around drug use - first your Pa, then, when the war was over, your brothers became enthralled in it too - the way it helped them forget the horrors they had seen. To you though , the person who had never seen the horrors, all you saw was the people you loved falling apart in front of your very eyes. You and Finn had made a pact when you could have only be ten or eleven, to never be like them. Not in that way. And here was Finn - half high off his mind on snow, but coming down from it very fast.
"I'm the arsehole?" His voice was louder than yours, more fuelled by alcohol and drugs, and you were certain you would wake up your family soon, but you were so angry you couldn't care less. "You are the one who shagged my best friend!"
Ah yes. The reason all of this began. You had been so upset, when you saw your brother at the Garrison a few hours ago - high off his head, that you turned to the only person who was there to comfort you at the time. Isaiah.
"I did not shag him! I fucking kissed him!"
"Same fucking betrayal!"
"Betrayal?! What world are you living in! He's my friend too!"
You were both yelling now, and you knew everyone would be awake at this point.
"Friend? Friend? I don't know about you , Y/N, but I don't regularly go around snogging-"
"I was fucking upset- you promised me Finn! We made a fucking pact! Though I guess I - that doesn't mean anything to you anymore!"
"Stop being so bloody immature! We're not kids anymore, I can do what I want!"
"Oh I forgot, big Finn Shelby, always trying to follow in his brothers footsteps! Well guess what Finn, you're not them! You're still a fucking kid." You spat angrily.
"I'm a kid?! You're the one who ran off to snog Isaiah as a form of petty bloody revenge-"
"I did not!"
"Yes you did! Because that's what you always do! You bloody manipulate people into hurting because you know what will hurt them the fucking most! And that's what you did with me tonight!"
Your eyes widened at this, as you recoiled, and angry tears welled at your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. Finn was always the sibling that was calmer and laid back. It was why you never usually argued. Anything you said usually washed right over his head. You supposed that sometimes you abused that a little.
"At least I have the ability to process my emotions, and don't just fucking hide them because I want to act the big man in front of my brothers! When are you going to see that you're not a proper fucking Peaky Blinder! You-" You almost screeched.
"Enough!" You heard a bellow, and froze slightly. The wrath of your Aunt Polly was enough to sober you both up practically instantly, though Finn still hadn't managed to stand up straight. "You are both children! Christmas bloody Eve and you wake us up like this!"
You turned round, to see Aunt Polly on the stairs, her arms crossed , lips pursed. The look she gave was enough for you to feel like a five year old again, who had just been caught playing with her makeup. The majority of the rest of your family also stood around on the stairs , half looking amused, half looking pissed off and tired. You felt your cheeks burn. All you ever wanted to do was impress your siblings. You had a feeling this wasn't the way to do it.
"Tell him that-"
"Tell her that-"
You both spat at the same time, glaring at each other, fists clenched, your jaws set in exactly the same way. You hated arguing with any of your family, but you, though you rarely showed it, had a temper just like Arthur when you got going, and both of you knew exactly how to hurt the other - you just rarely tried to. It was how you were both so upset right now.
"I said enough! If you can't use your bloody inside voices then don't come inside!"
"Fine by me." Finn muttered, turning and slamming out of the front door, so hard the window pane trembled. You knew then, that he was upset. If he was truly, really, angry, then he'd stay and yell some more. He left because he didn't want anyone to see him as weak. And that made your lip wobble a tiny amount.
"You do not get the last word, Finn Shelby!" You yelled, suddenly well aware how childish you were. But you couldn't stop, as you too, pulled open the front door, and saw him halfway down the street, the dawn light making it just possible to see him.
You stormed off in the opposite direction, to where you always went when you felt like this.
You went to see your mum.
*************************************************
It took, on average, around thirty or forty minutes for you to walk to the graveyard where they had buried Rosalie Shelby. You were too little to remember much - barely six when she passed, but you knew that your family didn't settle on nothing short of perfect for your mother. By that time, your father had already walked out, and your siblings had searched and searched for the perfect place to bury her. She didn't like to feel trapped when she was alive, Johnny had told you. And so, they buried her on the outskirts of Small Heath, on a hill surrounded by wildflowers, that had fuzzy bees fly around them in the summer, and tiny dormice. You loved coming here as a kid, not really understanding what it was - to you it just felt like a day in the countryside, which was rare. You still came often, to talk to her, when you were upset , or angry, or just felt something close to missing her . You knew she couldn't hear you, but some part of you yearned for it. For her to be able to speak back.
"Hey, Mum." You spoke softly, sitting down on the cold, damp, earth, limbs aching from your walk. By now, the sky was almost fully light. Your fingers touched the grave in a sort of greeting.
"I'm scared, Mum. I'm scared for Finn." You swallowed, leaning back on your palms, glancing up at the purple- pink dawn sky. Unfortunately for your baby nieces and nephews, it didn't look like it was going to snow in time for Christmas.
"He's never been like this with me. We're supposed to be a team, you know? But it's like, everyday he's drifting further and further away. I don't want him to, Mum. He's my best friend before my brother, and I'm losing him. I know I am. I just don't know how to stop it."
Your voice kept cracking, and suddenly, salty tears were dripping down your face, falling into the soil. There were several bouquets around the grave, and you weren't surprised. Your family all visited this time of year. Being here , in this place, it was your sanctuary, and it was rare that you would cry anywhere else. You pent up emotions until you felt like you would burst, and then you'd walk here.
"I miss you." You murmured. "In the best way I can. Because how can I miss someone I barely knew? You left us before I got to know your mannerisms like Ada and all the others do. They sometimes sit around and tell stories about you, and I just sit there, because they're just talking about a stranger, to me."
You paused for another few moments.
"Sometimes, I wonder, if you'd stayed, if everything would have been easier. If Tommy would be happier more, if Arth would be less angry all the time, if John would be-"
"Thought I'd find you here."
You turned round, having got a fright, to see your closest brother - John, standing, no longer wearing his pyjamas, but the suits you were used to seeing him wear. His cap was held between his hands, and for once, no cigarette dangled from his lips.
Quickly, you tried to wipe away your tear tracks, as he sat down beside you, the same cross legged position you were in.
"Come on, Squirrel. Don't cry, eh?" He said softly, wrapping an arm around you tightly, and you leaned into him.
The nickname your siblings had given you (on account of you often 'running away' from home as a child, and usually being found halfway up a tree, along with the fact that you used to have a habit of hiding food all around the Shelby home) almost brought a smile to your face.
"Is Finn..."
"Ada's gone after him. You know she's better with him."
You sniffed, nodding.
"I'm sorry. I know I was a dick to him again."
He nodded a little. "Yeah, you were. He was a bit of a twat too, to be fair."
"I know Pol says we're just growing up, but.." You swallowed. "I don't want to grow up if it means I lose my best friend, Johnny."
"You're not, Y/N."
"He's never spoke to me like that before. He's doing fucking snow John. And I know that isn't a big deal to you lot. But it is to me. And he just doesn't give a shit."
He was silent for a few minutes.
"C'mon, he does care. He's just..."
"I just... I never thought Finn would end up like..."
"Us?" John's voice was calm, if not a little hurt.
You swallowed. "No. Like Pa. You think I can't remember, but I do. I remember when he used to scream and shout and break things, and I remember when you hid me and Finn and Ada in the cupboard all those times, so we didn't have to deal with it. The way Finn screamed today... I don't know. It just took me back."
His arm squeezed tighter around you, and you felt how much more tense he was. You knew it hurt him far more than it hurt you.
"Why didn't you ever tell us you could remember?"
You shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like I can remember much anyway. It's like with Mum. I can remember tidbits. Just not enough. Not like you all can."
"I wish you could remember her properly." He said wistfully. "Then again, maybe not. We loved her, you know, course we did. But one minute she was great, and the next she was just ... gone. Vacant. I know she wasn't well. It just hurt."
You'd never heard John really open up about your parents. He usually listened, but you found yourself liking this more.
"I feel like I can't miss her properly. Because I didn't know her."
"You can still miss her, Squirrel. Maybe it isn't the same type of missing as the rest of us, but you can still miss her just as much."
You shot him a small smile.
"Thanks Johnny." You said quietly.
You sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
"I really like Isa, Johnny. I didn't just do it to hurt Finn."
He didn't sound shocked. "Yeah, well, we all saw that coming from miles away." He snorted, humorously.
You laughed a little. "I guess it was a bit obvious."
"Really? You going beet red and leaving the room every time you saw him? Never." He quipped sarcastically.
"I didn't mean to hurt Finn. Well... maybe a little. I just want him to be okay, Johnny. I was just lashing out."
"He will be."
"How can you know?"
"Cause I know our Finn. And you do too."
You sighed.
"You've got to let him live, Y/N. I know you don't agree with it, and you should know none of us do either. But he has to realise some things himself."
You paused for a few seconds. Then you burst into snorting laughter.
"What?" He looked at you with a confused smile.
"Jesus... Christ ... Johnny. You sound just like... fucking ... Linda." You laughed.
He playfully jabbed you.
"Take that back, right fucking now." He grinned.
"You'll be spouting about God next." You joked.
He laughed. "The day I turn into Linda is the day I want you to shoot me."
"Don't you worry, John, I will." You snorted again.
"You coming home, then?" He asked, standing up, and it was only then that you noticed the flowers in his hands - fresh ones that he must have brought. He placed them down, next to other ones.
"Yeah." You said quietly, and he pulled you up by your hand, as you dusted mud off your skirts.
"See you, Mum." He said quietly, turning, and walking slowly away, giving you a few seconds.
"Bye, Mum. Merry Christmas." You placed a gentle kiss on her headstone, before running after your brother.
*************************************************
You’d only just warmed up, when John stopped the car. He, being the cleverer of the two of you, had elected to drive to the cemetery instead of walking thirty minutes in the freezing cold.
You raised a questioning eyebrow, as you saw where he had parked the car - near the part of the Cut that was surrounded by high grasses and small trees - the only part of Small Heath that was remotely like the countryside.
"Go and speak to him." He said, firmly, though encouragingly.
You sighed a little, mock rolling your eyes, though you knew you had to. You closed the door behind you, as you hopped out, leaning back through the window for a second.
"You better wait for us, I'm not bloody walking home in this cold." You grinned, before turning away.
Just like you had your safe place, so did Finn- and it was here. He had told you once, that one of his only memories of your mother was her bringing you both down here as toddlers - just you two - and sitting reading to you in the grasses. He'd later confided in you that he wasn't quite sure if it was real or imaginary, to which you told him you couldn't be so sure about any of your memories either. The place had a dark tinge to you, considering what happened to your mother, but you couldn't blame him for liking it here. After all , your safe place was a grave yard. Who were you to judge?
Finn was sat, legs almost dangling in the river, next to Ada . They looked like they were sat in silence, and so, you thought it was alright to approach. Ada turned as you walked, giving you a small smile, then standing up, and walking past you back to the car. She squeezed your cold hand as she walked past.
"He's calmed down." She murmured. "I hope you have too."
Awkward was never an emotion you had felt with your twin before, but now it was one that overwhelmed you. You didn't know how to speak.
"I'm sorry." You blurted at the both time, as you flopped down to sit next to him.
He sighed. "I'm a dick. You were just trying to look out for me-"
"I wasn't going about it the right way. You’re right. I was being petty.”
“I know you like Isaiah.” He said quietly. He didn’t sound particularly mad. “I’ve known for a while.”
“I still shouldn’t have done it. No matter how upset I was. Because you’re right. A little bit of it was to hurt you.”
He shrugged. “I hurt you too.” He sighed. “Look. I don’t want to ever be like that again. It doesn’t matter what I was on or...” He rubbed a hand over his face. “We’re supposed to look after each other.”
“I don’t wanna grow apart.” You mumbled.
He laughed a little. “Come on. We’re twins. We’re never gonna lose each other.”
You smiled, holding up a pinkie.
“Promise?”
“Yeah, I promise, Squirrel.”
#finn shelby#finn shelby imagines#finne shelby x reader#finn shelby headcanons#john shelby imagines#john shelby x reader#john shelby#john shelby headcanons#peaky blinder headcanon#peaky blinders headcanon#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders#shelby imagine#shelby sister#shelby sister x isaiah#shelby family
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It's Always Been Molly
John Shelby x OC
Part Four
**credits to @romelzacarnes for the GIF**
A/N: New update is here. I usually use this space to give you a little update on how the writing of this story is going. But today I am going to use it to shout out @lotsoflovefromlea. She was the one who got me into Peaky Blinders. She was one of the people who encouraged me to write and post this story. Today she announced she was taking down her blog. I’m deeply saddened by this and will miss her dearly. I hate to see a wonderful writer fall and her work be deleted. Part Four is dedicated to you today Lea! You will be seriously missed my love. Much Love 💜
Warnings: language, angst
PART ONE ; PART TWO ; PART THREE
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**If you would like to be added to the taglist please let me know**
Taglist: @haphazardhufflepuff @rebel-without-cause-x @lotsoflovefromlea @theunderlier @envysorrows @healthygirlsdoitbetter @account71453 @blindedbypeaky @xshinytrashcanx @wednesdayqueen-18 @chaotichurricaneoffandoms @jrdpdlcki @lettersshapes @rosesandrap @jenni-jones00
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As the days turned to weeks, Molly was settling into a routine working for the Shelbys. She would wake up early to get herself ready, then pop over to find Finn. He spent most of his days with her. Of course the little boy didn’t mind because he adored Molly.
Molly tried to distract him from his brothers, but most times it didn’t work. If they were out and Finn saw either of his brothers, he would run to them and leave her for the day. She also was trying really hard to teach him how to read and write. He was getting better, but still wasn’t one-hundred percent interested.
Once the betting shop closed for the day, Polly would come to collect Finn for supper. She would stay and chat with her for a little while. Molly always watched out the window in the sitting room to see when John had left. The two of them had not spoken to each other since the family meeting. Both he and Polly were still not happy about her working for them, but she reassured Polly every day that this is what she wanted.
Once Polly leaves with Finn, Molly heads over to tidy up the shop. This usually takes her a few hours and when she’s done, she heads home to make supper for Jacob and herself.
Throughout all those weeks, John never asked Molly to help him with his kids. She didn’t know why since that’s what she has hired to do. She knew John was having trouble keeping them in order.
It wasn’t until one morning while she was looking for Finn that Polly said he was down with John. She didn’t know if Polly had sent him down there on purpose, so it would force the two of them to talk. With a sigh, Molly turned on her heels and headed to Johns. Half way she looked back at Polly, who was smiling. She was definitely up to something.
Once at the door, Molly took a deep breath and knocked. She could hear the kids running around and John shouting at them to be quiet. He opened the door surprised, “Molly what are you doing here?”
Molly looked up at him, “I’m here to collect Finn. Is he here?”
While waiting for his answer, she took a look at his appearance. He looked tired and defeated. He was only dressed in his night clothes which meant he was running behind. “Finn was...” before he could finish, she saw a little boy walk up to John, tugging on his shirt, “Daddy I’m hungry.”
John picked up the boy and whispered something to him, then set him down, and he ran off. He then looked back at Molly,” Sorry, Finn was here, but Aunt Pol picked him a little while ago. I’m sorry to rush you away, but I need to get them sorted.”
“Let me help,” she said quickly.
“Are you sure? ,” he asked back.
Molly nodded and John stepped back, so she could come through the door and lead her toward the kitchen. Molly looked around the house. It looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in a while. She then noticed four pairs of eyes on her. All four of them looked like John. She could see hints of Martha in all of them, but mostly the young girl.
Molly didn’t notice her eyes filled with tears until one excepted down her cheek. She quickly blinked the rest away and wiped her cheek, hoping John didn’t see. They all stood in silence until John cleared his throat and finally spoke up, “Right kids, this is Molly. She’s going to make you breakfast whilst I get ready. Then we have to go find someone to mind you for the day.”
Before John headed up the stairs, Molly lightly grabbed his arm,” I can stay with them today. It’s what I’m here for.”
“Okay, but only if you are sure. They are a handful,” John said, walking up the stairs, not waiting for her answer.
Molly just smiled and turned back to the kids, “Okay kiddies, who wants to help with breakfast?” She instantly got four little hands up in the air.
“Well, come on then,” she said excitedly.
A little while later, John can down the stairs, only to hear the clanks to silverware on the plates, the kids speaking softly to another and Molly at the sink washing up the dishes. He stood in the doorway for a moment, taking in the silence, sighing with relief. He also was watching Molly. He loved seeing her there in his home with his kids, and hoped one day, now that she was back, they would become her kids.
Molly had been in her own thoughts and didn’t hear John come up behind her. He put a hand gently on her shoulder, which scared her. “Shit. John! ,” she gasped. She then grabbed the dish towel and hit him with it,” Don’t you know better than to sneak up on a woman,” she chuckled.
“Sorry,” holding his hands up in defense,” I just wanted to let you know I was heading out. I’m not sure when I’ll be back. I’ll tell Tommy that you're not tidying today,” he said. He then moved his hand to grab hers squeezing it.
“Thank you for doing this. I never wanted to ask you.”
“John it’s fine. You go to work. I’ll be here when you get back. Tell Polly to send Finn down when he gets to be too much,” she then looked down at their hands. She quickly pulled it away so he could leave. She was trying really hard not to let the simple gesture, let him back into her heart.
It hurt John a little at how fast she pulled her hand away, but he knew why she did it. He gave Molly a small, sad smile and turned to the kids. They had been watching the two closely. Molly was the first woman John had let into the house besides their usual nanny.
John kissed the kids on the head and headed toward the door. He had almost closed it when he heard Molly yell,” Wait John, your breakfast.”
Molly quickly walked to the door and handed him the plate with a smile. He gave a simple nod and walked down the street. Molly then closed the door and leaned her back against it, letting out a sigh.
It was getting harder for her to not fall in love with him again.
John had sent Finn down to tell Molly he wasn’t going to be home until late. She didn’t mind. The kids were very well-behaved for her. There we only a few squabbles between the two littlest ones, but nothing Molly couldn’t handle.
She had them all help her tidy up the house, then they played out back for a little while Molly fixed them supper.
After supper, the older two helped the younger two to bed while Molly cleaned up the rest of the kitchen. The house looked completely different from when she walked in this morning. Once she finished, she went to tuck all the kids into bed.
Another hour had passed before John came home. She could tell he had been to the Garrison. They must have had some Peaky business. She could smell the smoke and alcohol as soon as the door opened.
Molly was sitting at the kitchen table when she heard the door open, and John walked in. She had been looking at a photo album Martha made for John while he was at war. It had been unfinished since she had died before he came back.
He came to sit down with her, “I thought I hid that. Katie must have found it again.”
Molly looked up at him,” Why would you hide it? They need to remember her, especially the twins.” She looked down at a picture of Martha with a big belly. She still looked beautiful, even very pregnant and very tired.
John then changed the subject, “You didn’t need to clean this place. I’m sure the kids were a handful.”
Molly looked back up at him with a smile, “Actually, they were angels for me. After the way you and Pol talked about them, I was nervous. But they were honestly perfect. They even helped me tidy up.”
John gave her an amused look, almost as if he didn’t believe her. He then reached his hand out to hold hers like he did earlier that morning. This time she didn’t pull away.
“You know Molly, I really missed you,” he said as he rubbed circles into the back of her hand.
Molly’s eyes then started to water. For the first time in all these years she felt guard letting up. Three small gestures were all it took. She took her free hand to her mouth to muffle a sob, “I know. And I you, but I can’t just let you in. You broke me John. You cheated and you lied about it. Then the proof showed itself at the worst time in my life. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t stay here and watch her steal my life. I was supposed to be the one you married, the one who carried your babies, the one to love you forever. But you both stole that from me when you slept with her.”
She pulled her hand away from his and wiped her tears. John just stared at her, tears in his own eyes. He hated seeing Molly cry.
After minutes of silence, Molly stood up to leave,” I don’t want to talk about this now. I’m going to go. Let me know when you’ll need me to watch them again.”
As she walked past John, who was still sitting at the table, he reached to grab her again. Turning to her and standing, “I know I messed up and hurt you. But I’m willing and ready to make it up to you. I’ll wait as long as I need to, and that’s a promise.”
He then pressed his forehand to hers, “It’s always been you Molly. I’ve only ever wanted to be with you.”
Molly’s eyes started to water again,” You should have thought about that eight years ago John, then those kids upstairs would have been mine,” she whispered. She then gave John a soft kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.
(posted 07/11/2020)
#john shelby#john shelby x reader#john shelby imagine#john shelby imagines#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinder#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#talicat imagines
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Choking On Sapphires 72
Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)
Title & Song: Stay In My Corner
Word Count: 4200+
Summary: On a night out with Arthur, reminiscing over drinks at Alfie's club, a face she hasn't seen since she was young appears out of nowhere and stirs up all the bad feelings and past trauma that it brought upon her. Alfie reads her as always and finds out the truth, even if it hurts her too much to tell him herself. He delivers on his promise of no one ever hurting her and getting away it. **Chapter song is Stay in My Corner by The Arcs.**
Warnings/Tags: References to past sexual assault. Not graphically described. Language. Protective Alfie. Revenge by Alfie for Gen. Alfie finds out why Gen left home all those years ago.
Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)
Arthur had come down to London for business for Tommy. Having already finished that part of his trip, he decides to call you and see if you'd like to get together for the evening. He makes it a point to call this time around because the effects of not doing so last time were still burned into his memory when he found Alfie having his way with you on top of your desk.
You sit at a more secluded booth in Alfie's club. Both you and Arthur are drunk, sharing stories and talking about marriage and babies and life outside of crime. You would seem just as normal as anyone else if you'd eavesdropped on the conversation. You got to suspend reality a bit as Alfie made snarky comments and came and went to handle business and schmoozing as the opportunities presented themselves. He'd never admit it, but he was thankful for having Arthur around, he kept you good and distracted and he knew he wouldn't let harm come to a single hair on your head. If there was something he had in common with the Shelby's, and particularly Arthur, it was that they would always fight for and protect you. His suspicions of you and Arthur having more than friendship between you had long since passed and he was thankful for it.
The hefty payout for the job done for the country, the killing of the fascists and Nazi's had certainly helped sway Alfie in his acceptance of the Shelby's as allies. You'd told him as you rode back from Birmingham the night you'd gotten drunk and sang for the entire bar how elated you were that he would entertain working with Tommy again for you. You poured out how proud you were of him, how touched he would change his stubborn ways for you and even though you were drunk, he felt that you really meant it. You also profusely apologized for Tommy having lied to him, but he understood. He knee jerk reaction was to get angry, and he admitted that, but he saw your point of view very clearly. He'd had to test the loyalty of many men and he knew how little trust he had in them personally, so he could only imagine with what you'd been through how low most men will go when they want something. He gave you a little bit of hell for it, whenever you would ask him to do something simple, such as fetch you a drink if he was going to the kitchen, he would ask you if you were sure you trusted him to do such a thing. At first, you had taken it seriously and he felt guilty afterward as he watched your previously cheerful face fall and your shoulders slump. He'd had to dig his way out of that one with kisses. But you soon caught on it was his way of making you pay for having done it and that was a totally acceptable price in your opinion.
With no secrets between you, you were both rather content with your lives at the moment. Living together was a dream for you, getting him to yourself so often, getting to wake up to him every morning and at least get to have him in your bed every night. He had started sending you gifts again, not all grand, sometimes something as simple as flowers or a batch of fresh bread to the house during the day. He didn't want you to feel like you weren't being doted on, what with your insistence that you cut back on your admittedly, lavish spending habits. Claire had been in shock when you sat down with the books in front of her and told her it was time to go through them, organize them and see where to cut corners. But you weren't about to cut anywhere that would affect anyone else, only yourself. So you went without shipments of special soaps and perfumes from France, canceled your portrait painting, saying you should put it off until you were married and have one done together. You were honing in the ways you'd stayed wild while culling the reckless behavior you'd been unlearning with your time in London. You felt good, solid like you were really getting a hold on yourself and your life again. Alfie satisfied your sexual needs, willing to play and experiment with you and as you loved the man it kept you perfectly happy, never considering looking elsewhere. If you'd known being in love with someone could've helped you from wanting to flight about the pretty boys you would've tried harder long ago to find it.
So when you were out with Arthur one evening, drunk and happy and not a care in the world, when a person from your past comes into your line of sight it shakes you more than it would have if you'd been on your toes and sober. Alfie is standing and talking to some of his men, his barked words all white noise to you as Arthur gossiped and shared stories. You rose a glass of wine to your lips and when you freeze in mid-motion, it even catches you off guard.
Arthur's face frowns deeply, seeing your eyes go wide, your face pale out. "What is it Genny?" he asks loudly, his drunken voice an echoing boom no matter what he tried to make it sound like.
You take a shaky inhale, seeing the man in an expensive tailored suit, walking on the lower level and looking around. When your mouth opens, tongue moving and lips trembling but no words come out, Arthur switches into protective mode.
He sets his glass down, scooting closer, speaking more quietly, putting his hand over yours and lowering your glass to the table as your hand had begun to shake. "Genny. What's wrong?" he asks with a low brow.
"Someone's here." your answer barely above a whisper. "In the tall hat. The man in the three-piece suit and the mustache." Your eyes start to blur and sting, having not blinked since you saw him. You begin to get flustered. You lower your gaze and put your hands on the table.
Alfie notices the sudden silence and seeing your body language stiff he turns his attention to you, leaning over the back of the booth to put his hands on your shoulders. "Somefin' wrong?" he asks, quirking his brow to Arthur.
"She said 'ere's a man here. She's frozen, poor thing." Arthurs observes, keeping his eyes on you.
"Who, love?" Alfie asks.
"The man in the tall hat. Mustache. Three piece suit. In front of the bar." you say softly, your hands up and touching Alfie's for comfort, your face down at your lap.
"Is that... fuck me that innit Prittance is it?" Arthur says with such disdain in his voice that Alfie knows something is wrong. He signals to his men to stay where they are next to him.
You nod and swallow loudly. "I need to..." you begin, clearing your throat and trying to get out of the booth. "Please move Arthur I need to be excused."
"Right, right." he says, sliding out of the booth and helping you.
"Who is that, love?" Alfie asks, pulling you to him as you try to leave for the restroom, blocking you from the man's sight.
"I need to go to the loo Alfie, please." you say not meeting his eyes, but he could see they were scared.
"Genny, what'd he do to you?" he cuts through the needless questions and gets to the point.
You shake your head and try to move gently away again.
"Genny you know you have to tell me. What the fuck am I supposed to do when ya start acting like a scared little bird? Tryin' to fly away. My Genny bee doesn't fly away does she?" he tries to be supportive and lift your chin up.
You take his hand and hold it, lowering it but forcing your eyes to meet him. "If I told you, you would kill him." you say flatly, holding his eyes to show you were serious. He lets you go, his forehead wrinkling, eyes batting in confusion, mind firing off options quicker than he could explore them.
"You follow her. Don't let her out of your sight except for in the loo. If you hear ANYFIN' that sounds wrong you go in, yeah?"
The young man nods and follows behind you quickly.
He turns to Arthur, who is watching you shrink into the distance with sad eyes.
"Now who the fuck is that and what the fuck did he do to our Genny?" Alfie spits out quietly, his shoulders hunched and body language ready to tear the man apart.
"I 'on't know if it's my place to say, mate." he shakes his head, his lips in a tight line as he sighs.
"I fuckin' swear Shelby if you don't tell me I'll beat it out of ya. She innit gonna tell me, she's fuckin' terrified. Now, who the fuck would scare her in such a way?" he demands.
Arthur looks back to meet Alfie's eyes, they're clearly hesitant, but he knew he's right. "Well." he begins, taking a deep breath. "She told me one night when we's pissed yeah? Talkin' 'bout our fucked up childhoods 'n that ya know? Reminiscing the 'ol trauma." he shrugs. "Apparently that man." he turns to finds him on the floor again, moving slowly about the space. "Did some awful things. And he's the reason she were kicked out of 'er own home when she was but a wee girl." he nods.
"What'd he do?" Alfie's voice is deep and dark, more animal than human now.
"She wouldn't say." he shakes his head. "But my guess is it's something fuckin' awful. As awful a thing as a man like 'im can do to a young girl." he shakes his head and looks to the ground. "I don't even wanna think about it."
Alfie shoots daggers with his eyes at the man who is oblivious to it. "I'm gonna fuckin' shoot him." he says, hand twitching for his gun.
"Ya can't fuckin' go off like some fuckin' cowboy there, Solomons, he's a powerful man, ya gotta bide your time if you want to take someone like him out."
"Powerful?"
"Some member of government me thinks? Somethin' of the sort." he tries to recall.
"Someone her father would know." he states coldly.
"Exactly." he gives a nod. "She's comin' back. Don't look so bloody angry." he suggests. "'Ello Genny." Arthur greets you with a sad smile.
"Alfie, love? Could we go home?" you ask with your purse clutched in your hands tightly.
"'Course sweetie." he says, rubbing his hands on your arms. "Ollie take her out the back, will you? I'll be out in just a moment, love. Just gotta tell 'ese boys what to do for the night. Fuckin' useless innit that?" he smiles and kisses your head. His eyes are dark as Ollie takes your arm and escorts you to the back. "That man 'ere. I want him followed. But don't get fuckin' caught. If you do get caught. You don't fuckin' know me, right? Ya got it? If he leaves here, I want him followed. I'll be back later for 'im. Abe, set up the basement for me." he adds with a dark tone to his order.
"The basement, sir?" he asks with raised brows, suprised by the request.
"Did I fuckin' stutter? Yes the fuckin' basement." he hisses, his chin jutting out at the man.
"Yes, sir." they all nod and break away, Alfie getting his coat and putting it on, taking a deep breath to center himself, to put on an indifferent face for you for the night.
Alfie tells Arthur to stay for a bit, look like things are normal, have some drinks, flirt, fuck whatever it was he did these days then to come back to Gen's he'd need him there for the night.
Alfie baby's you and you don't mind in the least. You're feeling terribly small like you had all those years ago. You'd been doing so well, feeling so confident and in control and then this man who had at one point destroyed your life, stripping you from everything that you'd once had appears out of nowhere. You believe it not be coincidence. What with George trying to fuck with you now. Of course, it was London and Alfie's club was popular, but you don't know why someone who worked with your father would be at a Jewish owned club. But perhaps he didn't even know who's it was, it wasn't like he was from London.
"You need to slow that mind down, pet." Alfie says, pulling you into his side. "I see those eyes dartin' about." he taps you on the nose and let out a heavy sigh.
"I know. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize. Nuffin' to apologize for." he clarifies, kissing your head. "Ya want me to fetch ya little sleepy vial for ya? Help ya calm down? he offers, rubbing your arm reassuringly.
"Yes, please." you give in, rubbing your temples as he goes to your cabinet and brings it to you, sliding back into the bed. "Thank you." you speak softly, taking a drink of it and putting it on the bedside table.
"You've been doin' very well wif talkin' 'bout your feelin's as of late. Would that help you now?" he asks, pushing your hair back from your face, as he laid on his side, pulling you into his chest.
"I don't... it hurts to recall." you admit. You feel him nod, his chin moving in your hair.
"You know I'd happily remove anyone who hurts you from the face of the fuckin' earth, my love." he offers.
"I know. But you can't kill him." you mutter.
"Why not?" he asks, stroking your hair down your back as he knows relaxes you.
"Just can't. Not him." you say, your words mumbling now, he knows the potion you took was working.
"Is he important to ya love?" he asks.
"No." you slur out and snuggle your face into his chest. "He's just bad." you let out before sleep takes you. He holds you until your breathing is still, your lips parted with little snoozes escaping them.
"I'm gonna get him for you, my love." he says, kissing your forehead as he covers you up with the blankets. You don't register it at all, he touches your cheek one last time before he leaves.
He dresses, moving to the phone after waiting for Arthur to come home. "Do ya have him?" He asks his men on the phone. "And he's left? Right." he pauses, rubbing his chin. "You have the boys what don't look Jewish get him yeah? Steal a car, don't let no one see ya. Get him quiet and fast. And people have seen him elsewhere since he's left the club? Good." he nods. "Get him to the basement then. String him up. I'll be there soon."
"Ya gonna get 'im anyway?" Arthurs' voice carries from the doorway.
"No one hurts her and lives." he says, pointing in the direction of your bedroom. "I need you here, yeah? I need you to be able to say I was here all night. I got her out with her little sleepy time medicine, right? So she'll be fine for a while."
"Ah. Need me to be an alibi I see."
"I do." he nods, moving to the foyer of your home.
"And what about us?" he hears Claire with arms crossed across her chest, Aggie standing sheepishly behind her.
"Fuckin' 'ell." he groans, his shoulders slumping. "I was hopin' you were asleep." he says obviously.
"She told me who she saw tonight. I know what you think you're going to do." Claire announces walking towards him.
"What I fink? It's what I am gonna do, Claire. No thinkin' 'bout it. It's good as done."
"You are right about the no thinking part." she scolds and he purses his lips.
"I need you all here for my alibi as well. She's sleepin', she'll think I've been there the whole time. She won't know."
"So more lies?" She spits out and Alfie feels his face burn.
This was a secret, wasn't it? He sighs at the realization, so easily falling into his old habits that he hadn't even realized. "Then I'll tell her after it's done, yeah?"
"She told you not to do that." Claire says harshly.
"No one does whatever that man did to her and gets away with it. She won't let me kill her fuckin' father, thinks it'd be too obvious but I'll be damned if I've not got men on him every minute of the day to do such a thing. I told her I would protect her and that's what I'm gonna fuckin do, yeah? No one hurts her and lives." he spits out, his finger once again pointing in your direction.
Claire takes a deep breath and turns to Aggie. "Go see to her, Aggie. I need to depart some knowledge that you don't want to relive onto Mr. Solomons," she says with a solemn nod and Aggie frowns, knowing she was right. She waits for her to be out of earshot, a quiet room with only the patter of Aggie's feet echoing down the hall. "You can't kill him." she states plainly.
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because Gen wouldn't want you to." her arms go back across her chest, a look of disappointment on her face. "He's in a government position. People will try to find out what happened. He isn't some disposable lad who has no one."
"And I have killed people more important than 'im and here I stand, yeah? I pay the cops, Claire. I'm not some daft fuckin' donkey who doesn't know what he's doin'." his tone showing he takes clear offense to her statement. "So you tell me what he did to her so I can know what punishment to give 'im." he says moving closer to her, his voice seething and his head low. "I can see you hate him too." he says nodding her way.
"I do. I've wished him dead for years." she states coldly.
"Then tell me and we can all have our revenge." he offers.
The deal is a sweet one if it worked out. She knew Alfie was no amateur, and if anyone could pull it off, it would be him. She saw in his eyes he meant everything he said and that as long as he was around, no one would hurt you and get away with it. "She had to leave home because of him." she says, taking a less aggressive sigh and looking away from his intense gaze.
"Why?" he asks after her pause goes on too long.
"He's a friend of her fathers. Genevieve was rejecting every suitor that he sent her way. And in no delicate way. She was always very outspoken and rebellious towards anything her father tried to make her do. As you can imagine." she shrugs. "So George told her he was forcing her to marry that man. So when he was invited over, George leaves them in a room together alone, and displeased with her reaction when he tells her this... he..." she lets out a long sigh and closes her eyes. "He abused her." she forces out and waits before opening her eyes again. "I was there. I heard them and was locked away across the hall with the other girls. We were powerless." she shakes her head, rubbing her arms recalling the dark days. "He told her no one would believe her. Her word against his. That she had no right to refuse, she was his property now and after he was done with her no one would want a broken, used thing like her."
Alfie is deadly still, his face showing no emotion and that was how she knew he was close to exploding. "Go on." he grits out between clenched teeth.
"So, she runs to her mother. Who was horrified by the whole thing and approached George about it. There was fight that nearly tore that old, gilded house down. You know how bad Gen gets, so you can imagine the behavior of the woman who birthed her." her brows are high and her lips tight. "He refused to believe them, despite there being clear proof of it. I still remember how shaken Gen was. Dealing with that at such an impressionable age and then being treated in such a way by her father. To call her a liar with her looking like she did." she slumps her shoulders. "It wasn't as if she thought George loved her or anything but you can understand how she was broken by it nonetheless. He forced her out, saying he disowned her. Awful things were screamed and said, slaps and shoves given and taken by both. He said things no young girl should ever hear from anyone. Let alone their father. It broke her. She's carried those words with her all these years. They've fueled her to be better, most times, but they also fuel her demons. They made her think there was something wrong with her, deep down. Thinking there was something amiss about her that she couldn't fix, that she was unwanted, unlovable. It fueled a lot of her reckless and wild behavior. If it wasn't for Altar reigning her in, who even knows what would've happened. He gave her focus. Her mother eventually, under the guise of caring about the family's public image, of course, talked George into keeping her in the family for legal reasons. But it took him a long time to come to that decision and she had to build herself up from nothing on her own after that." her shoulder shrug, her hands up in defeat.
"That man." Alfie nods, his face red and his brow almost hiding his eyes. "That man did this to my Chanah?" he chokes out, his throat tight.
Claire looks at him with pity, knowing how much it hurt to know something like that about someone you loved. She simply nods.
"Has he had any contact with her since? She acted like she saw a ghost."
"She's been forced to be civil in social dinner situations. Her father kept inviting him, so even if she came home he was there and she eventually stopped going."
His heart breaks, his blood pumps faster, his face seems as if he's looking far away. His eyes narrow and twitch, darting back and forth in their clear overload of emotion. He knew this meant there had been no remorse from his man's end and he didn't feel bad in the least for about what he was about to do to him. In fact, he had started to feel a lot better about it. Certain things about your behavior start to make a lot more sense. Overwhelmed didn't begin to cover how he felt. He clears his throat as he felt a bit as if he were drowning in his emotions, both for your sake and his. "I am going to make him pay. For what he did to her. For what I'm sure he's done to others like her." he points at the door.
"I wish I could say I was against it." she shakes her head, her face now sad, lost in memories. "But I'm not. If you tell her after the fact, I can let you go. Because she deserves peace. Seeing her like that tonight I..." she swallows and wipes her face quickly as a tear threatens to show.
"I saw it too." he says with a nod.
"Nothing scares her anymore and she was..."
"Terrified."
"Yes." she nods and sighs. "I was hoping she had put it behind her but..." she shrugs. "Things like that don't fade so easily." she almost mumbles, but Alfie is close enough to hear.
"They do not." he says in agreement. "I will tell her, yeah? I will be careful. I will make him pay for what he's done to our girl. Be sure of that. She won't let me kill her father, but I will kill this man." he gives a stern nod.
"Be quick." Claire manages a whisper. "He doesn't deserve it but the sooner you're back-"
"The betta, yeah, I know." he says standing back up straight, fixing his coat and moving towards the door. "Thank you Claire. For telling me."
She gives a sad smile a nod. "I believe you to be the man for her. I wouldn't tell you otherwise. She's a complicated woman who has been through a lot and if I can share things like this with you and her not know I told you, then your ability to handle her better is worth the minor betrayal on my behalf."
"And I thank you for it. She will not know it was you. I guarantee that. I will be back as soon as I can." he gives a curt nod and with that, he disappears into the night to do the devil's work.
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