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#tommy shelby x sister reader
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Everyone: *chatting around the dining room table for a family dinner*
Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*
Y/N: Thanks, dad
Everyone: *stops talking and stares*
Y/N: *confused* Why is everyone staring at me?
Ada: You just called Tommy ‘dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad’
Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’
Tommy: Do you see me as a father figure, N/N?
Y/N: Pftt- no! If anything, I see you as a bother figure, cause you’re always bothering me!
John: Hey! Show your father some respect!
Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!
Tommy: No, no, Y/N, I take it as a compliment
Arthur: It’s no big deal. I called Linda ‘mom’ once and she’s my wife!
Y/N: Guys, jump on that! Arthur has psycho issues!!
Finn: Old news. But you called Tommy ‘dad’
Y/N: Guys, for the last time, I didn’t call Tommy ‘dad’!
Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-
Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you
Tommy: -daughter. You want to talk about it later over a game of catch?
Y/N:
Y/N: *tears up* I'd like that
2K notes · View notes
book-place · 1 year
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Peaky Blinder Song
Warnings: violence, cursing, weapons, blood, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Shelby family x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: Growing up as a Shelby wasn’t always easy, but at least your siblings were always there for you
A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!
Inspired by: The Jet Song by the cast of West Side Story
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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When you're a Jet, you’re a Jet all the way
“Well, would ya look at that,” Tommy mused, the slightest bit of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke.
At his words, John and Arthur looked up from their breakfasts in confusion before following their brothers line of sight to where you were waddling into the room, one of their caps upon your head.
Arthur let out a booming laugh and scooped you up into his arms, playfully rubbing his mustache against your cheek, emitting giggles from you, “Would ya look at that!” He agreed.
“Where’d ya get that?” John asked, reaching up and gently shaking your foot.
You began blabbering to your older brothers, ignoring the fact that the hat had fallen into your face, covering your eyes. Arthur calmly lifted it up, seriously nodding as if he could understand a single thing that you were trying to say.
“Give ‘er here,” Tommy ordered gruffly, standing up and gently taking you from his elder brother's arms, eyes softening as you looked up at him with that toothy grin of yours, “What’re ya doin’?” He asked in amusement.
“I think she’s ready to be a Peaky Blinder, Tommy,” John laughed as the other man had to lift up the hat away from your face again.
“Is that so?” He asked teasingly, reaching out and ticking your stomach a little bit, “You gonna be the leader of the Blinders now, little one?”
Arthur laughed again, “We don’t need you anymore, Tommy, we’ve got Y/n.” He said jokingly.
“I think you might be right, Arthur,” He said seriously, “Looks like n/n can handle it from here.”
You began blabbering again after a loud laugh, making your brothers all chuckle around you.
“We’ve got our own little Peaky Blinder here.” John declared.
From your first cigarette
“Come on now,” Finn said impatiently, “Hold it for me.”
Without a word, you did as your brother demanded, taking the object in your hands and looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Finn Shelby.” The furious voice of your aunt made the boy tense up and freeze instantly.
“Polly,” He gulped, slowly turning around to face the woman.
The look on her face alone was enough to put him six feet under on the spot. He didn’t even want to think about what was going to happen to him.
“You better tell me right now why the hell my three year old niece is holding a cigarette, and if you don’t say that you found her like this, then you have something else coming for you.” The threat made him pale even further and his blood ran cold.
Oblivious to what was going on, you grinned up at your aunt, “Pol! Pol!” You cheered happily, dropping the cigarette and reaching your hands up to her.
Instantly, she stooped down and swept you into her arms, you snuggling closer to her hold without a second thought as your eyes fluttered shut and you sighed in contempt.
“What’s all the bloody racket in here?” Arthur inquired, stalking onto the room with Tommy following right behind.
“Your youngest brother tried handing a cigarette to your sister.” Polly didn’t once take her venomously dangerous glare off of the young boy.
By then, his eyes had begun to fill with tears, only for them to spring loose when the two older men’s heads snapped over to him.
“Finn,” Tommy spoke in that eerie stern voice that only he seemed to be able to master, “Is what she’s saying true?”
“I-I just wanted to be like you guys!” Finn sobbed openly, dropping his head into his hands, “I wanted to smoke and be like you!”
“And you though’ that makin’ our little sister hold your cigarette was the way to do that?” Arthur asked angrily, glowering at the boy.
He shook his head vigorously back and forth, “N-no!” He hiccuped, “I just had to do somethin’ so I needed her to hold in for a minute!”
“Oi!” Polly snapped in a harsh whisper, “Hush now, Y/n has fallen asleep.” She leveled a last glare at Finn, “We’ll deal with this later, young man.”
To your last dyin' day
A joyful laugh left your lips as you ran as fast as your little legs would take you down the alleyway.
True, Tommy and Arthur had told you to stay on the sidewalk where they could see you while you played, but it didn’t hurt to go for a little run to see how fast you could make it back.
Now five years old, you were constantly getting into mischief, reminding Polly too much of how the boys were when they were little.
You hadn’t been looking where you were going, your gaze was turned up towards the brightly lit sky, so you didn’t see the person standing in the middle of the alley until you ran right into his legs.
Stumbling slightly at impact, you quickly fell onto your backside with a small ‘oof’, a stinging sensation quickly making its way through your body from the pavement.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” A malicious voice snarled from above you, causing your head to snap up with wide eyes.
The man whose legs you ran into was sneering down at you from the end of his greasy nose. And to you, he looked downright terrifying.
“I-I’m sorry Mr,” You mumbled with wide eyes, slowly crawling backwards, “It was an accident.”
He shot you a sinister smile, slowly stalking towards you, “Was it now?” He hummed mockingly.
Your head bobbed up and down as you nodded desperately, “It was, I swear it was!”
The man shook his head softly and clicked his tongue, “Now, I’m findin’ myself not really believing you, girl.”
You could feel your face pale even more at his words, “I’m sorry!” You tried again, panic swirling in your stomach. This man scared you, and you didn’t like it.
“Listen here, you little-“ He snarled, storming over to you and snatching your arm in a bruising grip and squeezing while dragging you to your feet, making you cry out in pain.
“What is going on here?” Despite the deadliness of the calm in his voice, you still sagged in relief the second you heard Tommy speak.
“Nothin’ to worry about, Mr. Shelby. Just takin’ care of this little bitch.” From the way he spoke about you, it was clear as day that he didn’t know who you were.
“Is that so?” There was no mistaking the flash of complete rage that appeared on your brother's face, “And what does my baby sister have to do with that?”
If you thought your face had been pale before, it was nothing compared to how the man looked when all the color drained from his face instantly. He let go of your arm, stumbling away as if having been burned by the contact of your skin.
As soon as you were free, you scrambled over to Tommy, hiding behind his legs and burying your face into his coat that hung near your head.
“M-Mr. Sh-Shelby,” He immediately began begging, “I-I swear to god I didn’t know who she was-“
“Clearly,” Tommy cut him off coldly.
“Listen- listen, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry, I never would have done that if I had known-“ Tears had begun cascading down his cheeks.
“But ya did, didn’ ya?” He questioned rhetorically, “And now you’re gonna have to pay the price for messin’ with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders.”
A hand reached out and touched your shoulder and you flinched away immediately, not having heard someone approach. Whipping your head around, you were met with the sight of Arthur, holding his arms out to you.
After one glance at Tommy for confirmation, you grabbed onto your eldest brother's hand and followed him out the alley. When you tried to look back, Arthur simply turned your head away and quickened your pace to get you out of there.
Silence carried on in your absence for a moment, Tommy letting it drag on until the man looked like he quite literally was going to suffocate from it.
“Did ya see that?” He asked quietly, taking slow, menacing steps towards the man, “Did ya see how jumpy she was after what ya did to her? How she flinched away from Arthur?”
“Please, please- I’m begging you-“ The man had quite literally backed himself into a corner, his head frantically whipping around to try and find a way out.
“You scared my little sister,” He carried on, “You hurt her. And something like that… is unforgivable.”
Arthur closed the door to the house particularly loudly just in time for a gunshot to go off, silencing it slightly from your ears.
When you're a Jet
“What’d ya want?” Harry asked jokingly, leaning over the counter of the Garrison so he could look at you, “A drink?”
You giggled loudly at his words and shook your head, “Polly says I can't be drinkin’ anything from here yet!” You replied with a wide grin.
“Now, is that so?” He tapped his chin as if thinking about it, “I suppose your aunt is always right, though, ain’t she?”
You nodded your head in agreement, swinging your legs back and forth from the barstool you sat at.
“Oi!” John called, coming sauntering out of an office in the back, “Ya better not be lettin’ my little sister drink!” The smirk that played at the ends of his lips let you both know he was joking around.
“Nah!” Harry shook his head, “I tried to be cool and let her, but that little rascal is a rule follower, she is.”
John laughed loudly at that, reaching over and ruffling your hair, “That don’t sound like my sister.” He teased, “She don’t ever follow no rules.”
“She sounds like a certain group of boys I know.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.
“Now, what’re you insinuating?” John leaned back against a table and placed his hands in his pockets, “That she's actin’ like us Blinders?”
“I think so,” The man reached over and playfully flicked your nose, making you laugh so hard that you almost went tumbling off the stool.
“Okay, alright, that’s enough now.” John quickly lowered you to the ground, not trusting you not to fall off anymore.
“Imma Blinder!” You cheered, giving your brother a toothy grin.
He laughed, bending down and scooping you up, “Yeah, I suppose ya are.”
If the spit hits the fan, you got brothers around
“Yer nothin’ but a stupid little kid,” A boy a couple years older than you, about Finn's age, sneered down at you, his raised voice attracting the attention of the other students in the school yard.
Despite the tears that began to collect in your eye ducts, you glared at him, not backing down, “That isn’t true!”
Even though he was way taller and bigger than you were, you stood your ground. That is, until he gave you a shove back by the shoulders and you went sprawling to the ground.
He had been picking on you for having mud on your clothes after playing with a couple friends outside before school and even though you tried to walk away, he just wouldn’t leave you alone.
The crowd that had gathered around gasped when you hit the ground, clearly not expecting it to escalate that quickly and your cheeks turned red.
“Hey!” None other than Finn Shelby had pushed his way through the sea of kids with a glare set on his face that resembled that of your brothers.
“What do you want?” The kid rounded on him, glaring down at your brother, who was still at least a head shorter than him.
“That’s my sister.” Finn informed him through gritted teeth, as if the boy didn’t already know.
You sniffled slightly, scrambling up and making your way over to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention, “It’s okay, Finn.” You mumbled, “Let’s just go.” You didn't want either of you to get into any trouble.
He just shrugged off your hand though, sizing the boy up before reeling his arm back suddenly and without warning sent it flying into the boy's nose.
Almost instantly afterward, two teachers surged through the crowd and quickly pulled the two boys apart, the one that had been picking on you now crying and holding his nose.
You and your brother had to sit in the principal's office until one of your siblings or aunt showed up, the house having been called for one of them to come pick you up.
Not too long had passed before Tommy made his way through the door, demanding and controlling aura in tow.
He ignored the staff that tried speaking to him, immediately turning his attention to the two of you, “What happened, eh?” He demanded sternly.
“I saw this kid push Y/n,” Finn jumped up to explain, “So I punched him in the face! Just like you and Arthur taught me to!”
Your older brother's eyes quickly flickered over to you, giving your body a quick once over to ensure that you were alright.
“Okay,” He spoke before turning on his heel and exiting, leaving behind a stunned teacher and not turning back to see the two of you scramble up to follow.
After walking to the car, he opened the door and waited for you two to get in before sliding into his own side. He didn’t start the car though, just turned to you.
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, to which you nodded your head, “Lucky Finn was there, then, eh?”
“I could’ve hit him too,” You insisted.
His lips quirked up, “I know, but it’s still good to have some backup sometimes.”
You were silent for a moment before turning to Finn, “Thank you for helping me.”
“He didn’t have the right to push ya,” He grumbled while leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.
You're a family man
“Game night! Game night!” You cheered, sprinting into the living room before diving head first onto the couch.
“Mind your head,” Polly scolded, “Don’t need ya hittin’ it too hard that we have to end up takin’ ya to the doctors.”
“But it’s game night!” You cheered, falling backwards onto the couch with a large grin overtaking the entirety of your face.
“Did somebody say game night?” Arthur’s voice boomed into the room before he even entered it, with a smile that could be heard through his tone.
“I did!” You chorused back, “And I’m going to beat all of you?”
“Is that so?” John strode into the room with Tommy and Finn following close behind.
“Uh huh!” You agreed, turning your face as serious as you could make it in order to try and get your point across.
“Hmm,” John tapped his chin and pretended to think, “That's weird, ‘cause if I remember correctly, I was the winner of the last game night. Not you.”
You pouted at him, crossing your arms, “Well, I’m gonna beat ya this time!”
“Ya think so?”
“I know so!”
Arthur chuckled at your words and even Tommy softened a bit at the interaction.
You're never alone
“T-Tommy?” You called out hesitantly in the darkness, voice wavering as you spoke.
The man’s eyes immediately snapped open and he shot up, hand flying out to grab the gun that was kept under his pillow, “Y/n?” He echoed back, squinting to try and make you out through the dark room, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I-I had a nightmare,” You admitted in a whisper, shuffling your feet and toying with your fingers.
His entire being immediately sagged in relief, fingers loosening around the weapon once he realized that you were in no physical danger. He wasn’t stupid though, he knew how much of a danger dreams could be, how they could affect one’s mind.
“Come ‘ere,” He mumbled, scooting over in the bed to make room, lifting up the blanket like an invitation.
You wasted no time before plunging onto the bed, cuddling up to your brother's chest, “Thank you,” You murmured shyly.
“No, need to thank me, sweetheart,” He mumbled, dipping his head so he could place a kiss on the top of your hair.
It was silent for a moment, and Tommy would’ve thought you had fallen back asleep if you hadn’t spoken up with an embarrassed whisper, “I know I’m eight now and I’m supposed to be a big girl, but it was really scary, Tommy.”
He let a small sign fall from his nose as he tightened his arms around you, “There’s no such thing as being too old for nightmares, sweetheart.”
You pulled away and looked up at him with wide eyes, “Really?”
He hummed, “I get them all the time.”
Your jaw was on the floor by then, “You do?” Never in a million years would you be able to picture your strong big brother having a bad dream.
“I do,” He repeated, “Do you want to talk about yours?”
Immediately, you shook your head into his chest, arms wrapping around his torso to the best of their abilities.
“Okay, alright,” He mumbled, leaving another kiss on your head, “You can go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything get you.”
You're never disconnected
You had no idea where you were. You spun around in circles but still couldn’t pinpoint your own location.
Earlier in the day, you had insisted to your brothers that they bring you to a marketplace that was in town, and they reluctantly relented and brought you. But now you couldn’t find them and the panic was starting to set in.
You gasped, whipping around when you felt a hand on your shoulder and were met with the sight of an unfamiliar man.
“Let go of me!” You demanded immediately, squirming out of his hold.
He raised his hands automatically, backing away from you, “Sorry, kid, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You didn’t scare me,” You grumbled.
“Hey, it’s alright. I work for your brothers.” He reassured you, but even though it was supposed to comfort you, it only made you even more suspicious of him.
Slowly, you took a step away from the stranger, ready to make a run for it, when the sound of thundering footsteps made you turn to your right, all your brothers rushing over to where you were.
“Oh, thank god,” John mumbled, coming to a stop and running a hand down his face when he saw you safe and sound.
“Daryl,” Tommy greeted, clearly knowing the man, “I am now in your debut. Thank you for taking care of her.”
The man, Daryl, tipped his hat to Tommy and shot you a playful wink, “‘twas my pleasure, boss. Just lucky I was in the area and saw her before anyone else did.”
You're home with your own
“You’re doin’ it wrong!” You insisted with a whine, bringing your foot down and stomping against the floor once.
“I’m following the directions!” Finn snapped back, “How am I doin’ it wrong if I’m following the directions?”
“You ain’t, though! You’re addin’ too much chocolate chips and not enough flour!” You were beginning to lose your temper with your brother.
He simply shrugged, “I don’t see the problem with havin’ any extra chocolate.” He tried to reason.
You dropped your head to the counter with a groan, “We need to make them special! We can’t do that if you don’t follow the recipe.”
Finn seemed to contemplate it for a moment before rolling his eyes with a sigh and beginning to undo what he had done, “Fine, we’ll follow your borin’ cookie recipe.”
“What’re you two doing?”
You both shrieked and whipped around at the sudden voice, coming face to face with Tommy, who had a single eyebrow raised in your direction.
“Makin’ cookies,” Your brother answered dumbly.
“No!” You shrieked, reaching over and slapping his arm, “It was supposed to be a surprise!”
The boy scowled, reaching up to rub the sore spot of where you had hit, “Not much of a secret, anyone could see what we’re doing.”
Tommy looked amused by the scene before him and put his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step out of the kitchen, “Just act like I wasn’t even ‘ere.”
You eagerly jumped on the opportunity and began shooing Finn back to what he was supposed to be doing to prepare the dessert.
When company's expected, you’re well protected
Tears silently ran down your cheeks as Polly held you close with a hand resting over your mouth, keeping you from making any noise to notify anyone of your presence.
A group of men had broken into your house while your brothers were out on business and began ransacking it. Your aunt had pulled you into a closet with her as soon as she had gotten wind of what was happening and hid the two of you behind an old pile of jackets.
“Shh, hush now,” She whispered as quietly as possible into your ear, “It’s alrigh’. We’re gonna be alrigh’.”
The walls muffled the exact words being spoken by the group of men, but you could still hear their voices and the sounds of their footsteps getting nearer and nearer to your hiding place.
“-thought you said the kid and old lady were still here,” You heard one of them grunt, meaning that they were a lot closer than before.
Polly held you tighter to her chest at his words.
“They are, I’ve been scouting outside this place all day and neither one of them has left.” A new voice shot back.
“Check the closets,” A third voice said, making you whimper softly.
Just then light poured into your small space, temporarily blinding you the second the door was roughly thrown open. Polly was quick to move you behind her, using her body as a shield against your own.
“I found them-“ He was cut off by the sound of multiple gunshots going off at once that automatically made your ears begin ringing, making it near impossible to hear anything else.
Slowly, you tried to peek around your aunt's body, but she quickly pushed you behind her once more, “Don’t look.” You could barely make out her words over the constant ringing.
“Giver ‘er ‘ere, Pol.” A voice- Tommy’s, you think- spoke through the haze, and you were carefully passed into the arms of your older brother, who maneuvered you in such a way that you couldn’t see the body’s that lay scattered all over the room, your other brothers standing over them to ensure that the job was done.
“You’re alright,” He whispered soothingly in your ear, striding out of the room with you as you desperately gasped for air and gripped onto his shirt like a lifeline, “You’re alright, I’ve gotcha now, I’ve gotcha.”
Sure, you’ve had scares in the past- it came with the line of work your family was in- but nothing compared to the heart gripping terror you experienced for the first time that day.
Of course, your family saved you just in time, though. Just like they always did.
Then you are set with a capital J
“Well, don’t you look fancy,” Arthur commented as you happily skipped into the kitchen.
You giggled a bit with a nod of your head, moving past where he and John sat at the table to grab and apple from the counter.
“What’s the occasion?” Your other brother piped up, glancing up from his own breakfast.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes teasingly at the two men, “I don’t need a reason to dress up,” You informed them, “I’m going to school! All the girls dress up now at school!”
John’s eyebrows shot up, “Oh, and you’re doin’ what all the other girls are doin’ now?”
A hum left your lips as you floated over, placing a kiss on each of their cheeks before joyfully leaving the room.
Tommy entered just as you were leaving, receiving a large bear hug from you before you continued on your way, singing a song quietly to yourself.
“I don’ think I’ve ever seen anyone that happy to be goin’ to school.” The man commented.
“Tommy… I’ve just had an awful realization,” Arthur looked up at his brother with wide eyes, taking his little brothers raised eyebrow as a sign to continue, “I thinks n/n is growin’ up.”
“And what makes ya say that?”
“She’s goin’ to school all dressed up becuase it’s what all the other girls be doin’ now,” Arthur was talking with a horrified look on his face, “And I don’t like it, Tommy.”
The man rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, “She’s just dressing up a bit, Arthur, it’s not the end of the world. You can start worryin’ when she comes around talkin’ about boys, eh?”
“Boys?” Arthur paled even more, “I didn’ even think of that part.”
Which you'll never forget ‘til they cart you away
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” John asked softly, worry painting his features as he immediately dropped onto the couch next to you.
You had your head in your hands and tears were falling down your cheeks when you looked up, startled by your older brother's presence. You hadn’t thought anyone was home.
“John,” You immediately moved to wipe your tears away, but he gently caught your wrists, halting your movements.
“What’s wrong?” He asked again, making sure he was looking you in the eyes as he spoke.
You sniffled slightly, shrugging harshly and trying to avert your gaze from his.
“Y/n,” He prompted, “I just wanna help ya.”
A sigh fell through your lips and you realized that it wouldn't hurt to just tell him, there was nothing he could do to change it anyway.
“A couple girls were making fun of me in school today.” You whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself as you spoke, “I was called on for a question on the homework and I got it wrong.”
His eyebrows set in a furrow, “So they made fun of ya for it?”
You nodded tearfully, biting down on your lip and dropping your head in defeat.
“Hey, hey,” He cooed softly, gently taking your chin and moving it so you were looking at him again, “Wanna know what I want ya to do?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, “I want ya to go back to school tomorrow and show those girls exactly who they’re dealing with.”
It was then your turn to allow your eyebrows to dip in confusion, “Who?”
“You.” A smile tugged at his lips, “You’re a Peaky fuckin’ Blinder and nobody gets away with messing with one of them.”
You smiled now, tears having stopped springing from your eyes, “I’m a Peaky Blinder.” You repeated.
He grinned, reaching over ruffling your hair affectionately, “And don’ ya ever forget it.”
When you're a Jet, you stay a Jet
“Happy Birthday,” Tommy smiled one of his rare, real smiles with an even rarer twinkle in his eyes, “I hope ya like it.”
You were finally fourteen, and your whole family was gathered around the living room to celebrate, passing gifts upon gifts into your arms.
A gasp escaped from your lips as you opened the lid to the box and peered inside, “I-it,” You choked out, “It’s wonderful.”
You gently placed it to the side and sprang forward, throwing your arms around your brother's neck and bringing him in for a tight hug.
“All right, all right,” He said playfully, “Try it on now.”
Carefully, with the rest of your family gazing at you in wonder, you took out your very own Shelby family, Peaky Blinders cap.
Something that looked much like a distant memory flashed over Arthur and John’s faces instantly the second you placed it upon your head.
“Do ya remember when-“ John began, and Arthur nodded.
“When what?” You echoed in curiosity, looking at a nearby mirror and adjusting your new present.
“When the last time you wore one of those, it was too damn big for your own head,” Arthur laughed loudly at the memory.
Tommy chuckled fondly, “I remember.”
You looked over your shoulder and gave them wide grins, causing their hearts to squeeze tightly at the deja vu they were getting from seeing you like that.
When you're a Jet you’re the top cat in town
“M-Miss. Shelby,” A store owner stuttered out as soon as you opened the door to his bakery.
“Morning, sir.” You greeted kindly, having learned a long time ago not to take his fear to heart. No matter how nice you tried to be to people, no one was able to see past your family name. And oftentimes, you wouldn’t even complain.
“I- I have some freshly baked cakes!” His eyes widened at his own realization before quickly scrambling into the back and coming back less than a moment later with the treats in hand.
You shot him a smile, picking them up after he slid them along to counter towards you before reaching for your pocket for some money.
“Oh, oh no, Miss. Shelby.” He shook his head, “It’s on the house.”
A frown pulled on your lips, “But, sir-“
“It’s the least I could do,” He insisted, “Please, just take it.”
Hesitantly, you nodded before thanking him and making your way out of the store. Of course, this wasn’t even the first time something like this had happened to you or any other one of your siblings.
While you found it slightly worrisome, Finn found it downright hilarious.
You're the gold-medal kid, with the heavyweight crown
“Hey, oi, Johnny boy,” Arthur whispered, making the man look up from the newspaper in his lap, eyes following to where his older brother had inclined his head.
He felt a smile slowly grow on his face when he realized what he was looking at.
You were cuddled up between some pillows under a blanket on the couch nearby to them with an open book in your lap and your head dropped lazily to the side, having fallen asleep while reading.
“Should I wake her?” Finn asked mischievously from his seat beside John, who reached up and gave the boy a good whack on the back of the head, “I was only jokin’.” He grumbled.
“Let ‘er sleep,” Arthur said quietly, “Besides, she looks so peaceful right now.”
When you're a Jet, you’re the swingin'est thing
“I will push you in, Finn Shelby, don’t test me,” You warned as the two of you walked side by side on a bridge that hung a couple feet above the river.
The boy snickered, playfully shoving his shoulder against yours, “I’d like to see you try.”
A wicked glint settled in your eye, but it was gone before Finn could have been able to see it.
Deciding to wait until he let his guard down again, you allowed a few moments to pass in silence as you walked side by side, pretending to study the water.
Then, without giving him so much as a slight warning, you used all your force and sent him flying into the water down below.
You were holding onto your stomach and doubling over while cackling by the time he resurfaced, jaw dropped and a look of betrayal on his face, “Look whatcha did!” He complained.
“Oops,” You giggled before making your way over to the edge and sticking out your hand to help you up, feeling only a little bit bad about what you did.
He swam over to you and took your outstretched hand, but instead of using it to pull himself out like you thought he would, he yanked down on it hard, sending you toppling right after him into the freezing water.
You gasped as soon as you resurfaced, and he was now the one laughing at the look on your face, “That’s what you get!” He cheered.
Glaring at him slightly, you hit your hands against the surface, sending a big wave straight into his face.
He sat there, frozen for a moment, before slowly turning to face you fully and splashing you right back in the face.
Little boy, you're a man, little man, you're a king
You couldn’t help the wide smile that grew on your face as soon as you sat down at the table. All around you, your brothers and aunt chatted loudly amongst themselves whilst enjoying the first dinner you had all together in a couple of months.
“What’s got ya smilin’ over there?” Tommy asked from beside you.
“Just really happy that we’re all together right now,” You replied without so much as allowing your smile to falter.
His lips twitched upwards, “Yeah, me too, sweetheart. Me too.”
Shelby Family 💚- @kiyomi-uchiha777
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theshelbyclan · 2 years
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Monsters under the Bed
Summary: when John tells you a ghost story at night, you’re to scared to sleep on your own, so you run to your favourite brother
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A/N: Once upon a time, I showed my youngest sister this interview with Charles Manson and she refused to sleep alone for a few nights. Subtly, she reminded me of this again yesterday, which gave me the idea for this fluffy little fic ☺️
Words: 2056
*****
You were far too old to be scared of monsters.
John was the craziest out of all the siblings and everyone knew if. He could imitate madness perfectly, maybe even a little too perfectly. So, when he’d suggested you’d exchange ghost stories, you really should’ve known better.
Sitting up on your bed in the smallest bedroom in Watery Lane, you’d told the first story. And then it was John’s turn, and then yours again. And with a rivalry as old as time, you each tried to trump the other. You told him of the old legends of witches and monsters and he, in turn, told you the most gruesome stories he could tell. You’d spend the better part of the evening sitting together, giggling like children, until he’d told his final story.
“Are you scared?” he’d asked with a smug face. But you had quickly shaken your head and had told him to piss off. But John had smirked again, “You look scared.”
When he’d left your room, you’d quickly buried your head beneath the blankets and tried to get the images out of your head. Because as soon as he started telling you about the mass murderer that used to roam Small Heath, who used to cut off people’s noses and ears and skin them alive, your mind had painted a very vivid image of it all. And in the dark, it haunted you.
You shook your head angrily and tried to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, you could see the monster from John’s stories approaching you. “I’m thirteen!” you told yourself angrily, “I’m too old to be scared of monsters!”
*****
The next morning, you slouched down at the table during breakfast for lack of sleep. 
“What’s with you?” Ada asked, not quite full of compassion.
“Nothing,” you grumbled in reply.
Your sister raised an eyebrow and continued eating, obviously not believing you.
John walked into the kitchen, cheerful and very well rested. He called out a “Morning!” but you just glared daggers at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Ada looked from John to you and explained to him, “Y/N didn’t sleep very well.”
“I’m fine,” you slouched down some more.
But a grin had started to form on John’s face, “Nightmares about scary big men, coming to cut you up in your sleep, was it?”
“John!” Ada called out, reprimanding him.
“What?” he shrugged, “I just told her a bedtime story, about this famous...”
But again, your sister came to your aid and cut him off, “Leave her alone.”
“Not my fault she’s a baby...” John chuckled, as he walked away.
“What’s this?” a low voice demanded from behind you, which made you jump into the air with fright, “John? Did you do this?”
“It’s nothing!” you called out in exasperation. The last thing you wanted was to attract any attention to yourself or talk about the topic some more. “I just didn’t sleep very well, that is all.”
“John’s been telling her bedtime stories again,” Ada told Tommy.
Tommy sighed and shot his brother a warning look. Then he sat down next to you with a worried expression on his face. “Don’t listen to John. It’s probably all lies, eh sweetheart?”
“I’m not a baby.” It came out a lot more pathetic than you had intended.
Ada commented sarcastically, “You are the baby of the family.” And you knew she was right, much to your own annoyance.
“What did John say to you?” Tommy asked, “Go on. Tell your big brother.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you sulked, “It was nothing anyways. I just couldn’t sleep.”
“If it was nothing, why can’t you talk about it?” Once again, Ada was a little too direct for your liking and you rolled your eyes. Tommy glared at her, noticing it too. Soon after Ada left, mumbling, “Fine. Talk to the big brother who does understand.”
So you were left with Tommy in the kitchen, but there was no way you were willing to admit John actually had managed to scare you. Tommy didn’t press the subject, he hardly ever did thank God. And when you told him you had to go to school, he simply said, “You’ll know where to find me when you need me, alright?”
You managed a smile and nodded. Tommy planted a kiss on your forehead and for a moment, you seriously considered telling him everything.
But you didn’t.
*****
That night, you were laying in bed, determined to get yourself over your silly fears. Angrily, you pulled up the blankets and closed your eyes. But the second you did, some unknown man, covered in blood, appeared before your closed lids and your eyes shot open again.
In the dark, you huffed and turned around to face the wall. But then you thought: what if he’s behind me and I can’t see him coming. Suddenly petrified, you were now convinced he was in the room with you. You were practically shaking with fear, but when you did manage to turn around, the room was empty.
“See,” you whispered to yourself, “no one’s here. Get over it!”
But still, you went over to Tommy’s room.
It was the middle of the night, of that much Tommy was certain. He was still half asleep, but could heard the tell-tale signs of someone sneaking into his room, quietly. Carefully, he opened one eye.
Before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness, he knew who it would be. And there it was: the bed dipped slightly and someone nimbly climbed over him. Then he felt gentle tug on his blankets and the warm body of his youngest sibling next to him in the bed.
“Good night,” you whispered, still believing your brother was asleep.
“Good morning,” a startlingly low reply came.
“Tommy!” you spun around and faced him, “I thought I was being quiet!”  Your brother turned around slowly and replied groggily, “About as quiet as the bombs going off at the Somme.” 
“Sorry...”
He adjusted himself a little and you waited for the questions to come, but he didn’t say a word. When you were little, you could often be found in one of your brothers’ beds, though it didn’t occur as often anymore. Polly used to say that the Shelby’s weren’t made for sleeping alone, which was true in many ways, but you’d decided a few years back that you were all grown-up now. Your brothers still saw you as a kid, but at thirteen, you no longer felt like a child. Not really.
“Tommy?” you finally asked, “Do you ever have nightmares?”
He cough a short laugh, but didn’t reply. And at once you realised how stupid your question had been, because everyone knew the men never got over the horrors of France. Everyone knew, but no one understood. “I’m sorry,” you apologised quickly.
Tommy looked at you, “You’re having nightmares?”
You thought of John’s story. And you knew it most likely wasn’t true, but you also knew te atrocities men were capable of. That’s what haunted you most of all: the idea that one person could hurt another like that. But instead you just shrugged, “Maybe.”
“Because of what John told you.” It wasn’t a question and there was no need for an answer either, so he continued, “Whatever it was, I’m already awake now, so you might as well tell me, eh?”
“I’m sorry I woke you...” There was no way you were going to burden Tommy with anther blood-covered image.
“You apologise too much,” Tommy locked eyes with you, feigning strictness, “Sorry is now a forbidden word.”
“Sor-... Okay,” you smiled, quickly correcting yourself.
“Good girl,” he smiled back at you. For a gangster, he could be surprisingly soft when it came to his little sister. And when he saw it wasn’t easy for you to talk, he decided to do it for you, “Do you remember when I told you about the witches?”
“The ones that lived in the walls?” you grinned, remembering it well, “Yeah, I do. I used to think I saw them in the mirrors. Scared me to death.”
Tommy nodded for a few seconds, “I really did scare you with those stories.”
You snuggled up a little closer to him. The room was cold, but his bed was warm and familiar. Then you told him, “Yeah, but I was only a baby back then.”
“Is that it, eh?” he asked pointedly, “Being scared makes you a baby?”
“Well, yeah...” you felt yourself getting embarrassed. Tommy was always the easiest to talk to, but at the same time, you wanted to impress him the most as well.
“Well, let me tell you Y/N, those witches or monsters in the walls? I hear them now too. And they give me nightmares every night.”
A few tears started welling up in your eyes. If only you could undo France, that would be your greatest wish. But you couldn’t.
Normally, Tommy took great care not to mention anything about their time in the trenches to you. But right now, it was like his nightmares spilled over into daytime, like an ink stain that seemed to muddy everything. So, he started reminiscing out loud, “In France, I’ve seen grown men cry and call out for their mothers. I’ve seen them go insane with fear and disillusion, all because of those fucking toffs up on top playing toy soldiers with good men. We all cried, Y/N, we cried our fucking eyes out just before going over the top. You’d be an idiot not to be scared.”
You held your breath as he talked and finally said, “Yeah, but that’s different. I never was in any war...”
Tommy wiped away a tear that’d spilled and carefully said, “There’s no shame in being scared, love.”
“Isn’t there?” you sniffled.
“Nope,” Tommy replied decisively, “and I’m right here, eh?”
“But I am too old to be scared of monsters,” you sighed.
A dark expression flitted over Tommy’s face, “Not when they’re real. You do best to remember that: people, real people, are the scariest monsters of them all.”
“You’re not,” you replied at once, sensing what your favourite brother was thinking.
“Some days, I’m not too sure.”
But you emphasised, “But I am. That’s why I came to you. No one comes to see a monster when they’re scared of monsters, right?”
He cleared his throat and nodded slowly. “We don’t deserve you,” he finally said, “and this world we live in, the one we created, is too hard for you.”
“Maybe...” You’d never quite felt at home in Small Heath. In many ways, this world you grew up in was too harsh for you. You were a Shelby and no mistake, but you lacked the cruelty of most people here. But, you weren’t alone: you had your brothers. “I know you’ll protect me.”
“Always,” Tommy confirmed, “Even if it means keeping bloody John away from you.”
You had to laugh at his words, “John’s not so bad.”
“He’s an idiot,” your other brother grumbled, but with some mirth and love in his eyes as well.
Suddenly, you felt tired again, and as you drifted off to sleep, you told Tommy, “I’m glad you’re my brother.”
“So am I, princess,” he confirmed, as he watched over you.
*****
And while you slept, you never noticed John creeping into the room as well. A little anxious, he asked Tommy, “Is she alright?”
“You and your fucking stories. Save them for someone else, eh? Or have you forgotten about France already?”
“I’m sorry, Tom, it was just meant as a joke...”
“Go on,” Tommy urged, remembering when John had been little and scared of monsters as well. Every night, Tommy used to comfort him and they’d developed their own little ritual for it, “Check under the bed.”
John grinned and dipped his head down under the bed. He emerged triumphantly, “All clear, sergeant major.”
“See? Nothing to be scared of.”
John leaned over his brother and looked at you again, “She’s asleep.”
“Let her sleep,” Tommy whispered, “Let her dream of a world without monsters. Without men.”
“But we’ll protect her, right though, Tommy?”
“Yes. We’ll protect each other.”
And for one night only, every Shelby at Watery Lane slept a peaceful and dreamless sleep.
*****
Masterlist
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geekwritersworld · 2 years
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EDITH
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credit for gif: google
Pairing : Peaky blinders x sister!reader, OFC (Edith)
Warnings: none
Hi , hyd?
Could i ask for a peaky blinders fic ?
One where they find out they have a little sister at the orphanage ( 4/5 ) and she looks exacly like tommy and she goes on to stel the hearts of everyobe with her cuteness
And could she maybe be shy and when there is a lot of people she goes to tommy or polly to pick her up?
Thank you!
Summary: As stated in the request above.
A/n: Some facts and timelines have been adjusted to better fit this story. P.s I am aware I'm insanely late. I am honestly sorry for it, however ya girl's got issues.
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The streets were still empty considering the early hours of the morning.
The woman hunched over the blanketed lump in her hands. Shivering, the old woman opened the door, wondering who in the devil was at the door of an orphanage at nearly dawn.
And all she could do was gasp at the sight of the shriveled woman, her hair astray holding a new born child in her arms.
Ethel thought of that night 4 years ago often, she'd been new at the orphanage then, had just started 2 days prior and she didn't expect such sadness within her first week working there.
The little girl had been the tamest little child she'd come across. The other older children at the orphanage marveled at the tiny blue eyed baby.
She watched the little girl open her eyes and gaze at the ceiling, she watched her gurgle and she looked at the candle light and she heard her squeal as she asked Ms. Ruth her name "Edith, woman that left her here said her name was to be Edith", and she watched Edith take her first steps and heard her mumble her first words "No!" Edith squealed when Ethel tried to feed her some more of the thick porridge.
They spoke of the woman often at the orphanage. Wondering who she was and why she had left a newborn alone with no family. But no one, no matter how long they stood by the window at the orphanage, no one saw the woman again nor did anyone come for the child.
But the other 9 children at the orphanage had accepted Edith as their own. Treating her as their own little sister. The 5 boys would let her sit in a wooden crate and would push her around till she was a squealing and giggling mess. When she was 3, the boys would steal her some sweets from the kitchen, fourteen year old Jack made alterations to 10 year old Anna's old dress to fit Edith.
She had become the light joy of those children's lives, without even knowing it.
Edith was a wanderer. She'd wandered into the few big rooms, into the kitchen, into the backyard where Ms. Ruth had been adjusting the wet clothes on the clothes line and she'd even wandered out of the orphanage on one occasion.
She'd wandered out onto the street when the door had been briefly left ajar. She gazed up at the tall figures she'd never seen before. At the noise she'd only heard rarely when Ethel let her accompany her on errands.
"And who are you gorgeous?" Edith hadn't ever seen this woman before, but she giggled at the sight of the woman in a funny hat.
"Edis" pushing her hair out of her face, Edith looked at the woman who'd bent down to talk to her better.
"and where's your mother?" the woman asked.
"There" she smiled, pointing to the building behind her, and then turned her attention to the woman's gloved hands.
"Well why don't we get you back there safely eh?" extending her hand to the child, the woman led Edith back. "What's your name?" Edith asked, her blue eyes wide.
"Oh I'm Polly but you can call me Pol" she teased, couldn't help looking at Edith curiously.
"Ok Pol" Edith shifted her attention to the horse they walked past.
"prettyy" the little girl gasped at the sight of the big dark horse that leaned its head down a little closer to the young girl.
"and who is this Pol?" at the sound of the gruff voice, Edith snapped her head up at the man speaking, looking at him in wonder.
"Her names Edith" Pol looked at the man "and she decided to wander out" Pol teased making the little girl let out a shy giggle.
Edith didn't hear the man's response, instead she focused on the horse in front of her and only looked away when Pol ushered away towards the orphanage.
As Pol held Edith's hand, she occasionally looked over at the little girl. But once the two were right outside the orphanage door, she bent down to level with the 4 year old and said "well you'd better get inside before you get in trouble sweetheart" Pol caressed Edith's cheek as the door was frantically opened- practically thrown off its hinges by a frantic looking boy who opened his mouth to say something but stopped upon seeing the company right outside the door.
"Bloody hell Edith!" He bent down and hugged her tight, then looked up at the woman.
"Thank you er-"
"Don't worry, you'll know me name soon enough I suppose" Pol smiled leaving James confused but he didn't think too much of it, only grateful that the little girl was safe.
"What were you doing outside?!" jack exclaimed gently holding her shoulders.
Ethel and Ms. Ruth both came running to Edith, each crying out in relief.
"Where'd you bloody go?" Ms. Ruth picked up Edith who simply giggled unaware of the chaos that ensued inside the orphanage when no one could find the little girl.
On the other side of the orphanage door however, Pol had just walked up to her nephew, letting him know she'd see him at the betting shop and then disappeared down the street.
She couldn't help but continue to think of the little girl she'd met. Her blue eyes, they were the color of the ocean on a warm sunny day.
"The color of blue daisies" she whispered to Martha, holding Finn. The color she prayed to see once again. Polly knew the Martha Shelby's eyes anywhere. She saw her sister-in-law in her nephews eyes, she saw them in her niece and now; she saw them in Edith.
Pol had always wondered why Martha refused to come around to the house anymore months before she passed away. Thinking to herself of where she could possibly find a definite answer she headed to the one place she hoped would answer some questions. Polly knew Martha wouldn't have kept any trace of it in her own house, but what confused her further was why she'd given up a child.
She knew her sister-in-law, she knew Martha would've never gone to the hospital had she been pregnant.
Clenching her fists walking up to the door Polly sent up a silent prayer, praying she would find something useful here. Waiting after she had knocked twice, Pol heard the door open and stood in front of Martha's neighbor, Helen; the only woman Polly could think of who was as stubborn as they come.
Helen was a woman of small stature, she stood in a grey dress and had the same look of adamancy as she had 4 years ago.
"Took you long enough to bloody come" Helen grumbled letting Polly in without a question.
"You've done well for yourself" Pol said her taking in Helen's house.
"I haven't, my husband has though of course" she winked making Pol snort.
"So why are you here?" Helen asked
"I need to ask you, did you see Martha within the last few months before she died?" Pol knew Helen had always been adamant on checking up on Martha, making sure she was alright. Even when Martha began pushing everyone away, it was Helen who had still argued her way into Martha's home. It was Helen, after all, who had found out something was wrong when Martha hadn't come home the night they found her body in the cut.
"I did" Helen sat down offering Polly a cigarette, who denied, and lit one for herself.
"was she-"
"she was pregnant yes, helped deliver the child meself" Pol's eyes widened at Helens revelation. Helen continued looking ahead, letting out of puffs of smoke.
"And you didn't bloody say a thing!" Pol looked at her incredulously.
"Martha made me swear not to tell a soul unless I was asked" turning to Pol "I'm sure it wasn't an epiphany that brought you here out of the blue"
"four years" Pol let out a breath "that little girl has been there alone, for 4 years"
"Not alone" Helen said "checked on her every now and then, children at the orphanage love her" she let out a puff of smoke.
Pol continued standing near the table "suppose that life maybe better than the one with us" she finally pulled a chair out and slowly let herself sit down, letting the realization sink in.
"until some family that's far worse than yours decides to take her in" Helen snorted, letting her gaze fall on the window.
"Fuck" Polly muttered. Closing her eyes for a second, she knew the other families in small heath were scarcely much better. She knew of dwelled amongst the neighboring families. She knew of the pain and abuse, the nightmares she'd heard stories of.
"I'll bring her over sometime then" Pol said quickly walking to the door and then rushing out.
She didn't wait to hear Helen's response. Instead she went straight to the betting shop.
"Tommy" she called, everyone moved out of her way as she headed for Tommy's office and opened his door, without knocking.
Looking up irritated, Tommy adjusted his collar, waiting for Polly to speak.
"need to gather the family at home" she said.
"Why?"
"Because apparently you have a fucking sister"
"Pol, have you been drinking?" Tommy risked.
"BESIDES ADA" Polly snapped
He wasn't sure what Pol was talking about "what"
Pol sat and, rather impatiently, explained to Tommy about Edith. With each word Pol uttered, Tommy found himself breathing heavier.
This whole time, he had a four year old sister who'd been living in an orphanage. An orphanage that was minutes away, he had a four year old sister he had been minutes away from for four years and he hadn't a clue.
Tommy didn't know much of what had happened to his mother within the last year of her life. His mother had forced the children to go live with Aunt Pol, and they didn't see too much for her during her last year. And then one night his Aunt had woken him and his siblings up, with their drenched then neighbor at their front door, telling them their mother was gone.
Tommy had already made up his mind.
He left his study and approached John "John, gather everyone and meet us at home, Pol and I will be there in a bit" Not waiting for a response he and Pol left the betting shop.
They were going to bring Edith home.
There was a lot more to bringing a four year old into their care, they knew this. But they'd deal with it once they knew that the little girl was in their care.
Ethel hadn't let Edith out of her sight all day. She was far too scared. They were beyond lucky that the kind woman had brought Edith right back, but it may not necessarily be the case, should this happen again.
There wasn't much to do at the orphanage, but the children all made do.
Ms. Ruth was teaching the older children, and seeing as Edith was the only four year old, Ethel would have to begin teaching her letters soon.
So while the rest of the children were occupied, Ethel was the one to rise out of her chair with Edith rushing over to hold her hand when someone had come in to the front of the orphanage.
Opening the door Ethel looked up at the woman standing with a small smile while a man stood next to her who's gaze immediately fell onto to Edith.
Edith's eyes brightened when she looked up at the two grown ups, and smiled when she noticed Pol.
"Yes?" Ethel inquired, tightening her grip on Edith's hand.
"I'm Polly, we're here to talk to you about little Edith here" she smiled kindly at Edith, who looked up at her.
Tommy looked around the orphanage, trying to understand where his little sister had been living this whole time.
Hoping that the last four years had been kind to the little girl.
He heard the muffled noise of Pol talking to Ethel in the other room, while he observed the room.
"This my horsey" he snapped his head in the direction of the voice, looking down behind him to find Edith on the floor, holding a white horse toy.
"This is your horse eh?" Tommy squatted and took off his hat, holding it he looked at the few toys strewn in front of him.
"uh huh" she held the toy horse out, pushing it into the grown mans hands.
putting his hat down, he held the toy in his hand, turning it over to see it was obviously an old worn toy. "does your horse have a name?" Tommy raised his brows.
Edith let out a huff, then hummed, making a small smile tug at the corners of Tommy's lips "well I name him Horsey, but Jack said I can't call him that because that is not a name" she hummed again.
Tommy fully smiled this time at his little sisters little dilemma "hm, well sounds like you're very worried about his name"
"Cause!" Edith exclaimed looking at Tommy with her big blue eyes "he need a name!"
"I don't know your name" Edith said.
So he told her his name and sat for over 10 minutes, giving her one name after the other, but she hated every single one. Tommy even threw in his brothers names, wondering if any of those would appeal to the little girl. Until he heard footsteps approaching, then he looked up at his Aunt, who stood int he door way with teary eyes and a smile.
Edith looked up to see Ethel walk in behind Pol with shaking hands. Kneeling down, she picked up Edith and went into a different room, leaving Tommy and Pol alone.
"Well sweetheart" Ethel started "You remember Pol" Edith nodded enthusiastically.
Ethel continued "Well, you're going to be part of her family now"
Edith looked sad for a few minutes, but there was only so much sadness a four year old could comprehend "Can I still come see you?"
"of course, we'll be right here, and you can come visit anytime"
Ethel had of course informed Ms. Ruth and the children about Edith, which led to tears from all the children and even a few from Ms. Ruth.
While Ellie had made Edith promise she wouldn't forget them and Jack promised to sew her some new dresses, Ethel and Ms. Ruth were packing up Edith's few belongings.
When Edith was finally ready to go, Pol turned around to look at Ms.Ruth and Ethel while Tommy led his little sister outside.
"Thank you, for being kind to her" Pol didn't wait for a response but walked out.
"HORSEY!" Edith ran to pet the horse Tommy led her to, and then he asked "would you like to ride her home?" when Edith squealed yes, Tommy climbed onto the horse then Pol gently helped Edith onto the horse, placing her in front of Tommy and he slid one arm around his giddy four year old sister and the other held the horses reign.
The people of Small heath observed Tommy Shelby, the notorious leader of the ruthless gang, the peaky blinders, pass them with a giggling and squealing child holding onto his arm.
And Edith squeal louder when Tommy carefully lifted her off of the horse and gently put her down in front of the Garrison. It did occur to him that the pub was an odd place to bring a child, but seeing as that he and his family owned it, he wasn't too concerned.
"where are we?" Edith looked up at Tommy.
Pol walked up behind Tommy "We, are going to meet the rest of your brothers and your sister"
But Edith wasn't listening, she'd turned to continue petting the horse that had bent it's head a little lower, enjoying the soft little hand that patted his head.
Tommy shook his head at how easily the child was distracted and he turned to Pol "I'll walk the horse to Curly's with her"
With a nod and a quick glance at Edith, Pol walked towards the house and Tommy squatted down next to Edith "want to come with me and see a few more horses first?" He put his large palm on his sisters back.
"MORE HORSEYS?!" Tommy shifted slightly at Edith practically screaming with excitement in his ear.
"I think you and Arthur will get a long great"
He let Edith hold the horses reign and walk him inside the shed and he trailed next to her.
Edith suddenly let go of the horses reign and let out a scream, making Tommy reflexively reach for his gun and reach out for Edith with his other hand...until he noticed Edith running to the shinning brown mare in the stable. She ran to it squealing and almost tripping over some hay, while Tommy tried to calm his heart. He'd been with Edith for less than a day and she'd already almost given him a stroke.
"Wh- Tommy" Curly walked inside, looking curiously at the child engaged in a very serious conversation with the horse and at the man looking who looked pale.
"Tom- where'd the child come from?" Curly wondered.
Tommy gave a little smile "This Curly, is the newest member of our family" he walked to Edith, and put his hand on her shoulder, not sure if the four year old would be comfortable with him picking her up "Edith meet Curly, Curly this is Edith, our little sister, eh" he looked down at Edith, teasing her.
"Yeah! sister!" Edith bossed.
Curly chuckled at the little display of defiance as Edith looked up at him.
"Uh-" he was still very confused, so Tommy told him he'd explain later, in the meanwhile both men looked at the four year old that almost put her finger in the horses nose and Tommy immediately gently stopped her "Now why would you try to do that?" Tommy inquired, amused.
"Want to see if its like mine" Edith looked disappointed Tommy had stopped her.
Shaking his head, he held out his hand for his sister to hold and led her out, letting Curly know he'd see him later.
Tommy watched Edith's blue curious eyes observe the surroundings. He wondered if he could truly give her a better life. Could he possibly keep her safe? was it the wrong decision to take her out of the orphanage only to bring her into their lives, the one's where they were being targeted almost every single day?
But, Tommy realized, it was risk they'd have to take. He couldn't, as he was sure neither could his family, just get on with their lives knowing they had a four year old sister in the orphanage.
Leading her towards the door of the house, Tommy pushed open the door and led Edith inside.
Tommy almost toppled over Edith's small frame in front of him when he shut the door and turned- she had just stood still, not having taken another step further.
He shifted to look at her face, her eyes wide and her mouth open, Edith turned to Tommy "this is your house?" she gasped.
Tommy frowned, he was pretty sure there was nothing great about the house they were living in. The stairs creaked, the windows stained, the furniture was old and dusty and it was always dark in the house irrespective of the sunlight.
not saying a word, Tommy hummed in response to his sisters question.
"Can I live with you?" she whispered, her mouth still wide open as she ran up to the small table near the stairs with flowers in it.
Tommy chuckled "only if you want to" and he meant it.
"Come on" he ushered Edith into the kitchen, where she saw three men sitting at the table, two of whom were bickering about something, and there was one woman who sat quietly and Pol, who stood near the tabletop.
Both the men, that Edith didn't know, stopped fighting, and all five heads turned to her and Tommy.
Her ears burned at the attention, and she shifted slightly behind Tommy's leg to hide.
Tommy, thankfully, didn't force her to move in front or stop hiding in anyway, instead he just continued letting her hide and said "this is Edith, Pol-" Tommy looked at his aunt.
"I've already told them all about little Edith here, especially her being so troublesome!" Pol teased, smiling fondly at Edith, who's eyes grew wide at the woman's accusation. "That's not trueee!" she shrieked, then hid further behind Tommy's leg realizing she'd just brought more attention to herself.
"It's not?" Pol asked
Hesitating for a few seconds, Edith responded with a small shy 'no'.
"I'm Arthur, I'm the funny one eh" Edith turned to look at the man with the glass in his hand, he outstretched his hand towards her to shake.
She crept forward and loosely shook his hand.
"Oh! You've got a strong grip haven't yeah" Arthur joked, making Edith giggle.
"Edith" Tommy said softly "this is Finn and that's John, and that over there" he pointed at Ada who'd been looking at Edith adoringly "is your sister, Ada"
Edith looked at Ada "how come only one sister?"
To which the girl Edith was now aware was her sister, Ada, snorted "I've been wondering the same for years sweetheart, but now I've got you, it seems" she smiled kindly.
Finn and John leaned closer to Edith, and made small talk. John immediately asking her who Jack was when Edith mentioned Jack had gifted her a dress.
At one point when Ada asked John and Arthur to shut up about Jack, and poor Finn was trying to get a word in on the sparring between his siblings, Edith had moved back next to Tommy, and tugged at his hand gently.
At the feel of her tiny warm finger wrapping around his index finger, Tommy looked down at Edith, who then outstretched her arms towards her big brother. Indicating she wanted to be picked up.
His heart, Tommy was sure, would combust with the amount of love he had already felt for his little sister, who he had only known for a day.
Picking her up gently, Tommy wrapped an arm around her. Rubbing soothing circles on her small back. Edith rested her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the rest of her siblings bickering.
Pol, who'd been watching silently, wiped her teary eyes at the sight of Edith and Tommy.
"Oi, you've got favorites already have you?!" Arthur exclaimed when he noticed Edith and Tommy. Tommy rolled his eyes at Arthur, hoping his older brother wouldn't ruin the moment between him and his sister.
Immediately lifting her head, she looked down at Arthur," no, he's just very quiet" she smiled, not noticing Arthur's wide offended eyes. With his siblings all laughing with the exception of Tommy and Pol, who chuckled, Arthur turned to Edith again.
"and I'm not?"
"mmm no"
"come one Arthur, I'm obviously Edith's favorite, it would be me, isn't it ?" John looked at Edith, eyebrows raised.
"mmm well my horsey and you have the same name"
"that doesn't mea- hang on, you named your horse the same name as me? when?"
"today" Edith said innocently, not knowing what john was getting at.
Finn burst out laughing "you've got a horses name John"
Tommy let out a huff, almost laughing himself, Arthur snorted. John shook his head "right"
The sudden attention from people she'd just met had begun to make her shy and overwhelmed, Tommy noticed, when Edith began squirming in his arms. With the one free hand that wasn't holding Edith, he rubbed small circles on her back again, this time moving towards the empty hallway.
"right, let's get the little lady adjusted eh" Tommy hinted at his family towards Edith's discomfort. Arthur stood up, along with Ada, volunteering to help.
Pol looked at them "I'll be up in a minute"
Ada took Edith's little bag that Pol had left on the sofa, deciding she would put them away.
Finn had been moved into Arthur's room, John had run over to his house and had gotten quite a few of his children's old toys, and Finn had contributed further by giving some of his things for his new sister too. He'd left behind some color crayons and papers for her.
At Edith's request Tommy put her down at the bottom of the stairs. And she grabbed his big hands in her own and walked up the stairs with him. She climbed up the stairs one stair at a time, climbing up each one with a huffs that made Tommy smile. When they'd finally gotten to the top of the stairs, she waited for her older brother to guide her towards her room.
It surprised Tommy that Edith wasn't running around, like he'd expect a four year old to. Instead she stood there, looking up at him with her blue eyes wide.
So he led her to her room. That he noticed his siblings had done their best to make suitable for a four year old.
"only my room?" Edith looked at the room. Her bed she noticed had a white sheet with a floral print. There was a small dresser and a wooden closet.
Tommy said "yes"
"um" she wasn't sure how to tell him. she didn't want him to think she was a baby.
"what is it?" his eyes softened, Tommy bent down to reach Edith's level.
"well, I don't like to sleep alone" she murmured, shifting on her toes, Edith avoided looking at Tommy.
Letting out a breath, Tommy stood up and hummed. "It's alright" he wasn't sure if this was a good idea, but Arthur and Finn already share a room, Pol sometimes came home late and Ada had been sneaking out somewhere in the night lately
"Alright, you can sleep in my room then, is that alright?"
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corpsekiller · 2 years
Note
Thanks for the reply🥰I was thinking of a first night with Luca as a newly married couple. The reader could be a Shelby sister who was forced to marry him to stop the vendetta, so there’s a bit of bad blood between them and she’s scared I would hurt her, but he proves to be a gentleman.💖
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𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 — 𝐥.𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚
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𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦. luca changretta x fem!reader (shelby!sister)
𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲. arranged marriage, nsfw! unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, praise, it's quite soft compared to my usual style
𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤. i'm so sorry it took me this long to write yout request, my dear. i was quite busy with university and exams, but i hope you can enjoy this fic nonetheless. i tried to keep it soft, but still spicy and i had so much fun writing this despite the stress og my studies 🖤 (also bear with me, i don't speak italian and pulled the pet names from google)
𝖫𝖤𝖭𝖦𝖳𝖧. 1.840 words
MASTERLIST
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“Don’t be scared.”
His hand ghosts over your spine and comes to rest on your shoulder blade, fingers carefully undoing the buttons of your wedding dress. The lace slips past your legs to the floor and the sight of the white silk pooling around your naked feet reminds you that now, you’re inevitably bound to none other than Luca Changretta, who has become your husband on this very day. Truthfully, you didn’t have a choice — you were meant to marry the leader of the Italian mob since the day your brother killed his father, shot him straight through the head without an ounce of hesitance and that bullet sealed your fate.
Tommy knew it would only be a matter of time until they’d return for the vengeful spill of Shelby blood. Still, it hurts how he barely considered your opinion when he arranged your marriage, a peace offering to prevent more unnecessary deaths in the streets of Birmingham, and sold you off to the Italians as if you were merely another figure on his chess board and not his sister.
That’s the curse of being a Shelby, isn’t it? The purpose of your existence is to sacrifice everything for your family without batting an eye and perhaps that’s why Tommy selected you as the bride - because you were tired of losing because you wanted to live your own life. Because you wanted more.
This is the price you pay.
“I know you’re afraid,” Luca murmurs as if he read your racing thoughts, brushing a strand of hair out of your face and gently grabbing your hands to help you step out of your gown. There’s a tenderness to his touch you didn’t expect to fund after all that has happened between your families, the hatred and the resentment that bonds the two of you, but even now, as he guides you to the bed and pushes you into the soft pillows, his grasp stays gentle. “I promise I’ll take good care of you, amore. Just because I have, well, a strong dislike for your brothers doesn’t mean I won’t treat you like a gentleman.”
“I didn’t mean to insult you,” you whisper, a blush on your cheeks. Your reply causes him to smile, a twitch of his lips that you would have surely missed if you didn’t watch him so closely. His movements resemble those of a predator lurking around his prey — slow, calculated, elegance in every step he takes as he approaches the bed and gently spreads your legs before settling between them.
Arching his eyebrow, he caresses the supple flesh of your thighs, unbothered by your undergarments still covering your most vulnerable parts. You’re grateful he’s taking it so slowly, easing you into this new relationship with much more delicacy than you had expected of the Italian mob.
“You worry too much, pretty girl,” he replies with a soft chuckle, an amused glint in his eyes as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your knickers, tugging on the flimsy fabric until it glides over the curve of your hips. Instinctively, you lift your legs to let him strip off the garment, though you can’t suppress a pleasant shudder when his gaze returns to your cunt, now exposed to his sight. His fingers trace the inside of your thighs, a mere brush against your folds that causes you to take a sharp inhale full of anticipation and much to your surprise, your body moves on its own to get closer to him.
“Let me take care of you, yeah?” His question is followed by his hands grabbing your knees to throw your legs over his broad shoulders as he once again comes to rest on his stomach, pulling you closer until you feel his breath against your cunt. “It would be a shame to neglect you on our wedding day, wouldn’t it? Especially when you look so beautiful, all spread out for me.”
His lips nibble on your skin and you whine quietly at the sensation of his teeth sinking into your flesh, not enough to hurt you, certainly leaving marks you’ll see tomorrow, and strangely, the thought of him claiming you in such a carnal and yet passionate way flusters you.
Maybe... maybe there’s even a chance of love.
You would have liked to indulge in that thought for a moment longer, though Luca’s teasing makes it hard for you to concentrate on anything else but his skilled mouth slowly trailing over the curve of our thigh to where you need him the most. The lack of stimulation frustrates you to no end and forces you, despite your wariness towards your new husband, to buck your hips in search of some friction he might allow you out of pity.
“Don’t be impatient,” he admonishes, though there’s a hint of a smile in his voice. His poorly disguised amusement brings a timid grin to your face and your heart flutters in your chest, somehow completely at ease with the enemy of your family in your bed. This marriage might change your life for the better, although you were preparing yourself for the worst since the day your brother told you he promised your hand to Luca. “I promise I’ll make you feel good, mia cara, but you have to be a good girl for me.”
His tongue darts out to drag over your cunt. A gasp leaves your lips and your toes curl in pleasure, legs already beginning to tremble as your husband repeats the action and places his arm over your stomach to keep you still. His lips find your clit, teasingly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to coax more sounds out of your throat, clearly unbothered by your hand that has found its way into his hair to tug him closer to your aching cunt.
Every fiber of you seems to be set ablaze, eyes fluttering close and fingers clawing at the sheets for support while Luca relishes in your pulsing heat as if you’re his last meal on death row.
And fuck, the noises he makes are absolutely filthy — you can hear him groan against your slick folds, nose dragging against your puffy clit while his tongue dips into your entrance. Slowly, carefully and then all at once. The sensation is foreign to you, but the pleasure his mouth brings you is delightful and your hips move on their own for more friction.
Another hand comes up to rest on your waist, harsher and more demanding than the other to hold you in place before it disappears to between your thighs again. You cry out, partly surprised, when he starts to circle your sensitive bud with the pad of his thumb, writhing and squirming under the electric jolts he sends through your entire body.
“You taste delicious,” he moans between your thighs. The vibrations of his low voice draw another whine from your lips, his name falling from your tongue like it’s the only word you have ever known. “Come on, amore... I think you can moan a little louder than this. We should let your brothers know how good I’m treating you, don’t you think?”
He doesn’t expect an answer from you, already knows you’re too far gone to reply in a manner that would be appropriate for a lady like you, though he finds himself enjoying the way your voice stutters and breaks as you attempt to give him a response. To no avail. Instead, a cry fills the room when he pushes two fingers inside you, slowly stretching you out until your head turns blank and all you can do is paw at the sheets and pull at the dark strands of his hair.
“God, you look so beautiful... You like this, hm?” He murmurs and licks his lips glistening with your juices, a satisfied grin pulling on the corners of his mouth. Oh, he’s so mean about it, asking you this question even though he knows you can barely speak, so condescending and charming that you mindlessly nod your head along his words. Because he’s right, you like it. “I know you do, pretty girl. You’ll take everything I give you, huh?”
The broken sob you let out when he curls his fingers against your sweet spot makes him groan between your shaking thighs, cock throbbing against the seam of his pants, the only garment he hasn’t gotten rid of yet, too eager to please you to care because your pleasure is the only thing on his mind at this moment. His tongue continues to flick over your swollen clit and heat rises in your core, an unforgiving force that grows with each thrust of his fingers inside your sopping cunt.
“Fuck! S’good, so fuckin’ good, Luca,” you keen, legs threatening to close tightly around his head. Your husband chuckles, a deep laugh causing you to blush at the obscene moans tumbling from your parted lips, but you’re unable to hold yourself back, not to mention keep yourself quiet. “Shit, I think I’m going to... I’m close!"
A gentle kiss is pressed to your pussy, then he lifts his chin from your pulsing cunt, digits still so deep inside of you as he crawls up to drag you into a kiss that is surprisingly sweet compared to his fingers fucking faster with every passing second. The drag of his tongue into your mouth lets you taste your own arousal, gets you so lost in the sensation of his lips against yours and suddenly, he’s curling his fingers just right, hits a spot that shots white-hot lightning through your core, and coaxes a sob of pleasure out of you.
“Come on, mia cara," he murmurs, entranced by the movements of your hips grinding down on his hands slotted tightly between your thighs. His fingers move relentlessly, keep prodding at that sensitive spot until your eyes cross and your nails dig into the mattress in desperation. “Cum for me, pretty girl. I promise I’ll give you the world if you cum on my fingers now.”
That’s all you need to fall over the edge. The wave of your orgasm crashes over you in a mind-shattering sensation of pleasure and warmth you have never experienced before, so overwhelming that you’re clinging to Luca’s bare chest to keep yourself grounded as you quiver beneath his body. You notice him whispering something to you, tender words of affection and praise you could almost hear if it weren’t for the blood rushing loudly in your ears, but it’s enough to make you feel comfortable and safe in his arms.
“Are you feeling alright, amore?” Luca quips after your tremors have subsided, smirking at your blissful expression. His nose brushes over your cheeks as he leans down to plant a kiss on the corner of your mouth, one hand cradling your face to take a better look at you. “I understand if you want to rest, though you should know that I’m not opposed to continuing this night just like this.”
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tommyspeakycap · 2 years
Text
you can let go
‘you know he’s only hanging on for you,’ that’s what the night nurse said. my voice and heart were breaking as i crawled up in his bed
inspired by this song
tommys dying, but his withering body is hanging on because his heart knows his little sister still needs him now just as much as she ever has…he won’t let go until he hears her words
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“He’s all but gone now, miss Shelby.” The gentle woman says, her heart breaking for both the man laying on the bed - wasting away to little but bones and flesh with a faintly beating heart. He is merely a fraction of the man the country once knew, standing tall in a pristine suit in the houses of parliament speaking for his people. Nothing at all left of the man who’s family once owned the streets of Small Heath, then Birmingham entirely.
Not the devil, just a man.
He has cut, killed, murdered, butchered, maimed and mauled for the majority of his life and now here he is, ravaged by the tumour of tuberculosis in his brain, stretching and reaching into the grey matter of his once brilliant mind.
But not only that, not only is he laying there reduced to the frail outline of the man he was. No that’s not the saddest part for his night nurse. The saddest part?
Only one person hangs by his bedside, sits by him to wipe the sweat from his brow and make sure his heart still beats with a palm over his sunken chest.
Only you.
Only his little sister, the one who has clung to him like a lifeline most of her life. Relying on him, relying on his blood bound duty to love, keep and protect her. You’ve never know a life without Tommy. The war was different, he was gone but yet he was still ever present - he was still there.
Now he will no longer be here.
It has instead been your duty to be his keeper. Blood was never the reason he protected you the way he did. Blood was never a duty to you for Thomas. The love he held for you was his duty. He had the upmost adoration for you.
Nor were you bound to him by merely blood, but by the fact he was your Tommy. He raised you, he loved you, he gave you a life. He let you sail to France to become a nurse, only for him to end up with an illness you couldn’t cure. You had poured over books and articles in every language you could find, reading old dirt stained Romani written potions to cure the ailment he is dying from only to find nothing. Nothing that works, nothing that’ll help. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
All you find is nothingness.
Nothingness, like where Tommy is fading to.
It’s poetically heartbreaking, the little Brummie nurse who Tommy ensured would have the world at her feet and insisted would cure every illness known to man and more, cannot find a cure for the one thing that is tearing away everything.
Tearing away Tommy.
You don’t want to hear her words, but they are forced upon you nonetheless. You know he’s all but gone, you’ve seen it a million times before. It’s more of a shock to you he isn’t fully gone already. How he has hung on this long with such a tumour is utterly beyond your wildest reasoning.
“He’s hanging on.” You mumble, more to yourself than to her as she stands with a sad frown. The gentle, sad sigh form the night nurse is one you know all too well - you’ve let it escape with patients and family alike so many times yourself.
It’s a sigh that says barely. A sigh that says not really. A sigh that sounds so much like a pronunciation of death.
“You know he’s only hanging on for you.” She says, resting a hand on your shoulder.
But could love ever be that strong? Strong enough to keep him going? Are you keeping him hear, withering in pain?
Your brain rattled around with thoughts, sending shockwaves of electric busts of pain through your entire being, beginning and ending with your heart. Maybe that’s why they say love comes from the heart. You never understood it.
Maybe now you understand it, just like he said.
“Maybe one day you’ll understand it,” Tommy said lowly, his voice a soft caressing of the love he had just proclaimed to you, sat on his lap in your night clothes as he brushed over your hair with his calloused hands. “But I know you love me, Tom.” You replied, head a little tilted with that childish innocence in your little quirked eyebrow. “I know you do,” he hums in response, “I know you know i love you, but do you know i love you with allll of my heart?” He coos. You scrunch up your nose a little.
“No you don’t, Tommy.” You state, very matter of factly for someone who’s no more than six and a half years old. Tommy frowns. “Yes, I do.” He retorts, but you shake your little head again, looking him straight in the eye. “No you don’t, ‘cause love isn’t made in your heart,” your tiny little hand pats his chest, then both move up to either side of his head. “Love’s made in here, in your brain, Tom. The heart just pumps the blood round, ‘s why it beats you know.”
Tommy curses you for being so smart and wonders where you got it from, because surely it cannot be from anyone in this god forsaken family of his. He knows it’s true, you’re exactly right. The heart beats. However, Tommy also knows that in the dusted out, cobwebbed confines of his hollowed out chest, that battered old organ he calls a heart beats only for you. So in a twisted way, he loved you with all of his heart too, because it pumps blood around his body only for you, to keep himself going only for you.
Just like it does now.
“Suppose you’re right, my clever girl,” he rescinds, “But then i love you with all my brain and all my heart.” He teases, bopping your nose to hear that giggle again. “But Tom-”
“Someday you’ll get it, baby, some day.”
In a sad and maybe twisted way he really hoped you never would get it. Because it’s not as fun as they say it was. It’s selfish and awful but he always hoped you would never have to love someone that much, because when you love someone that much, the pain you are susceptible to is agonising.
Their hurt is your hurt. Whenever you fell, he hurt. Whenever you cried, his heart bled and whenever your heart broke, his stopped entirely, his ceased to beat, frozen in his chest like a shattered glacier. Thomas never wanted you to hurt that much for someone.
He never could have imagined the only person you would ever love that much would be him. The only person who could hurt you that much is him. Because you love him with, despite the fact you don’t use the phrase, with all of your heart. You do, almost half as much as he loved you.
That’s why you understand it now, what they mean when they say to love with “all of your heart”. Because right now, your heart is in pain, actual physical pain and it’s purely because you love him that much. You love him too much to let him suffer, so now you have to show how much you love him by letting him go.
“I know,” you whimper to that poor night nurse who’s stood watching you get lost in your thoughts and your memories of your doting big brother. “Can we…could you-” You choke out, tears slipping down over your cheeks. “Of course. You can have all the time you need.” She closes the door softly behind her.
And you finally know the meaning of a broken heart as you climb up into bed with him.
“I’m so sorry, Tommy.” Your voice breaks with your heart, “You deserve to go, i’m so sorry i couldn’t let you go.” You curl up beside him, one hand on his slowly rising chest to feel the faint thud of his heart and the other stroking his head the way he used to do for you when you were sick. His lips part, open for the first time in days, dry and sticky and too white for how pink and plump they used to be. You have those lips too, and his pretty cerulean blues that steal hearts like Tommy always worried you would.
“I love you,” he wheezes out, his eyes barely open. Simply slits to show he’s there before they close again, voice raspy and pained, “With all of my brain,” he heaved for a breath, “and all of my heart.”
You sniffle loudly, choking on a sob in floods of tears. “I love you too Tommy, with all my heart and all my head.” You whimper weakly, the very first time you’ve ever told anyone you love them with all your heart. “But you can let go now, Tommy. You can let go. I think i’m ready to do it on my own now. It’s gonna be so scary, but you can let go.”
He never acknowledges the words in a physical way, but you know he heard you. You know he felt how much you meant it, because he lets out one last rattling breath and his heart does not beat beneath your hand again. You’ve known that gentle thump since you were merely a baby sleeping on his chest, a child resting there after a nightmare, a little girl with your palm on it to remind yourself he was here and alive after the war, as a teenager with your ear pressed again his chest in his tightest of hugs when you were riddled with fear or put in grave danger. This will be the first time in your life you haven’t felt it. And there is a hole where you vividly remember your own heart once being
And if nothing else, then that is one thing he - your lifeline, the brother who raised, your Tommy - taught you in your life.
Love may be made in the brain, but you will certainly always feel it in your heart.
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toms-cherry-trees · 2 years
Text
The One You Never Knew || Shelby! Reader
Summary: Thomas Shelby never looked to those beneath him. Not even his youngest sister, the one he never got round to. And time has come for payback
Word Count: 3286
Warnings: Mentions of non canon deaths, murder, violence, swearing (non detailed), Tommy being more of an ass
Author’s note: Does this has potential to become a series? Yes. Do I have the ability for it? No, but we’ll see how this goes. Also you may have noticed I have a thing for making Tommy the bad guy
Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist
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Your hands ached. Hours were long in the shop, especially during Social Season, when every fine lady in London sought new frocks and court gowns for their presentations in Buckingham Palace. But also meant more money coming in, and a much welcomed increase in your meagre salary at the end of the week. If you had all the embroidery done before Sunday, you may have time to fix your own clothing. Who knew, perhaps you could get hold of some spare fabrics and make a new summer dress before the heat got unbearable. 
Releasing a heavy sigh, you put down the embroidery frame and straightened up, rubbing your aching back and neck. Sunlight had long disappeared and given way to nighttime. The dim lights in the back room of the dress shop barely helped in breaking the piercing darkness, and you dared not to light the old gas lamps or even candles, fearing a fire. Not because it could cause you any harm to your own health, but if any dress got damaged, you’d have to pay it back with your own salary and the blood from your fingers. 
The clock in the front shop would tick midnight in just five minutes, but there was still work to be done. The other girls had left long ago, their task of cutting and sewing being a hundred times easier with the help of their sewing machines. But they still had not invented a machine capable of embroidering brocades and patterns the way you did. All your hard work was done by hand, working meticulously with your needle and thread, inch by inch to create the exquisite gowns that filled Mrs. Foyle pockets and paid for your dingy flat. 
Half past midnight you had finally locked the front door, keeping the key safely in your pocket alongside a few spare coins and a gun; a rather unorthodox companion for a young lady, but not for a young Shelby. For you were still one, even if you denied it in front of the world. A Shelby by blood but not by family, for there was no family left to be tied to. 
Not after the fall.
Not after your entire family had been filled with lead, all at the same time, on what should have been a joyous Christmas morning. A Christmas Day to celebrate life, and freedom, for not too long ago they had been released from prison, saved by seconds from the drop. Saved by the one who had also been their jailer and now played the part of executioner, albeit involuntarily. 
After that regretful episode, everyone carried on with their lives. Ada travelled to Boston to handle the American branch of the business. John and Arthur moved on with their families each. Polly carried on as best as she could, while Michael drowned in work and snow. Finn lived in Uncle Charlie’s backyard with Isaiah, while you moved to Ada’s home in Primrose Hill to look after everything while she was away. Even if it wasn’t perfect, it worked just fine. They could all carry on pretending to be down one brother, for even the mere mention of his existence left a bitter taste in the mouth and a heavy weight on the pit of the stomach. His name had become taboo, avoided like the plague. 
But per usual, Tommy’s problems had grown big enough to become everyone’s problems. Every wrong step he had taken in the last five years came with retaliation, dragging on and on endlessly like the tail of a never ending snake. It didn’t matter how many ties they cut, or how much distance they put between themselves and him, they always ended up stuck in the fallout. But this time? They didn’t even have time to defend themselves. The warning came too late, and the end came too soon.
But of course Tommy didn’t die, because the Devil looks after his own. He had been the first one to receive the Black Hand, and therefore the only one who managed to get away. In his defence, he tried to round up the others, but it was too late. The Italians came down on the Peaky Blinders like a Biblical plague, and swept them off the map. In the blink of an eye, Arthur, John, Aunt Polly and Ada had been turned into colanders. Michael survived because again, a disaster lasts a millenium, while Finn and you weren’t even considered in the vendetta to begin with. Not that it mattered. They were dead, and you both died a bit with them.
With only two siblings left, Tommy tried to coop you up in Small Heath to keep you within reach, but surely there would be a second intention behind it. Perhaps to shape up the two siblings he never got round to into small versions of the ones he lost. Pick up two defenceless and innocent young ones to do his bidding, since they didn’t have any better option. But he didn’t count with you not budging in. 
Since you were already stationed in London, you had no plan on moving anywhere near Tommy. You couldn’t even bear to set foot in Birmingham, not even for the funerals. Not even to say goodbye to Esme before she hauled all your nephews and nieces into the road with the Lees. Not even to check into your little brother, who surely took the blow worse than you. You dealt with your grief in the same insensitive way the family had drilled into you; push it on the back burner and pretend it is not there. Just wipe your tears and move on with life, forever carrying inside you a burning rage that would never be put out, and try your best to not let it consume you, or you’ll surely lose your mind. 
While Tommy and the Italians chased each other through Small Heath like cats and dogs, you found yourself a job. You didn’t possess many abilities, but you knew enough maths to keep track of money, were decent enough with needle and thread, and wouldn’t shy away from hard labour if it came to it. You decided to start from scratch, sweeping away any link with your previous life. First you began as a cashier in a bakery, which required many long hours standing behind a register. Then you moved on to being a housemaid, an intention which lasted very little, considering your complete inability to adhere to rules that were not your own. For a brief moment you resorted to pickpocketing posh ladies in the train station, but the station master began to get suspicious of you so you had to get away. In the end, in between odd jobs and failed chances, you landed in a dress shop near Primrose Hill, with the same lady who once sold Ada expensive textiles and fancy shoes. She didn’t recognise you, and you prefer it that way.
After you received your first paycheck and rented a shabby flat near Candem Town, you mailed Ada’s house keys to Arrow House, with a very brief and impersonal note to your brother handing back the property to him, as Karl’s guardian, to safekeep it until your nephew was out of age and could claim what was rightfully his. Then you promptly moved on with your life going on with a borrowed surname, (Y/N) Jurossi. 
But of course just by walking away you wouldn’t get away from him. Thomas Shelby never took a no for an answer, nor as a boy nor as an adult. He belived you to be naive, or straight up dumb, but you could see right through him. You knew he knew exactly where you lived, where you worked and where you did the shopping. He knew every Sunday you took a walk through Hyde Park, trying to get in as much fresh air and natural light as possible to last you through the week. At this point, he probably knew how many dresses you had in your closet. 
You knew about him too, unwillingly of course. You knew he had married Lizzie Stark, and now had a baby girl. You knew he had just won a seat in the House of Commons as an MP for South Birmingham, representative of the Labour Party. And you knew the business must have had a lot of money to spare, for the two dumb faced goons who believed themselves to be so sleek and smart, stationed 24/7 near your front door surely must have been costing him a lot of money. 
You thought about him from time to time, unwillingly. Not with fondness, no. Those feelings of unconditional love towards the man who once was like a substitute father had long since dried up. Only a fictional image of him remained perpetual in your memory, with his hands bathed in the blood of your family, while he straightened back his crown. The old Tommy hadn’t died but you killed him in your heart. 
You even went as far as to erase him from the face of the Earth. He had been cut out of every picture you could cut him from, and those who had him front and centre, which were most pictures, had his face covered with a piece of paper stuck to the frame. You had even considered sending back to him even the last penny that Ada ever gave you for maintenance of her house while she lived abroad, since it indirectly came from him, but in all honestly you needed and deserved that kickstart in life. Your payment for putting up with him for 20 years. 
He did try to contact you, plenty of times. Sent letters, called into your workplace, mailed you stacks of bills which you either sent back or gave to charity. But not once he showed up at your door, or invited you to meet him somewhere. Not even in all the time he spent in London working he tried to see you in person. And you knew the reason. He just couldn’t face you, he couldn’t look you in the eye and withstand your judgement. Because he knew he was at fault for everything, and there was no one left to hold him accountable for it. Except you. He didn’t want to be faced with the harsh reality he’d surely find reflected in your eyes. 
But surely one day he’d come to you. Not out of filial love, but out of interest. One day he’d need you for something and he’d recall you back to the whirlwind of disasters he called life, ready to chain you to the bottom. You just didn’t know when.
~
Another late day at work, another midnight walk across town. Nothing out of the ordinary, and you felt quite assured by the gun ever present in your pocket.
But the moment you stood in front of your door, key in hand, something felt wrong. An eerie feeling made the hairs stand on edge on the back of your head. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly the problem; maybe a closed curtain which you swore you left open when you stepped out for work in the morning, or perhaps the plotted plant in which you hid the spare key, which looked a bit rumpled and some of the leaves were on the floor alongside specks of dirt. You swallowed thickly, feeling the saliva in your mouth turn to glue. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the gun, index posed in the trigger as you used your free hand to turn the handle. You bustled into your own home, ready to catch a burglar in. But all you saw was your brother, perched on your sofa and sipping whiskey from one of your chipped glasses. He had a cigarette between his fingers, and his cold eyes scanned the dim room with a hint of mockery.
A groan escaped from the depths of your throat as you lowered your gun and kicked your door closed. Thomas surely had a complete and abysmal disregard for appropriate social conduct. 
“Hello, brother” You didn’t try to sound angry, not even annoyed. Your voice remained cold and formal, as if you were merely addressing a stranger on the street. You crossed your arms over your chest, watching the nearly empty cheap whiskey on the table before him “Do you want a drink?” Now the mockery was obvious.
“Do you call this shit whiskey?” He smacked his lips and set the glass down, wiping his mouth in the back of his hand.
“Economy is shit, money is tight”
“Economy is shit for those who just settle for what they have”
It took every fibre of your being to not roll back your eyes and reply with a snarky remark. Those types of subtleties did nothing to his iron shell “Why are you here exactly? Inside my apartment from all places”
“You need better security. The key in the plant is very 19th century” He tossed your spare key into the table, the heavy piece of rusty metal landing with a dry thud. You snorted, shaking your head. Why would you need more security? There was nothing in the apartment worth stealing, and the two thugs by the entrance would surely scare away any potential criminals. 
“What do you want, Thomas?”
“I have a proposition”
“Of course you do”  Just like that, all your predictions came true at once. The Sun King came to pick up his spare pawn for his immaculate chess game, since he had already lost all his rooks and bishops and even the Queen. Guarded by lower pieces but unable to make a move.
“The thing is, Shelby Company Limited keeps growing exponentially, and we need more people like you”
“Like me? Do you need a seamstress? I thought your suits were imported”
“Young” Tommy pulled out another cigarette, having stubbed the old one out unceremoniously inside a spare glass, completely ignoring the piece of tile which served you as an ashtray “I need young people, new generations. I sent Michael to Boston, and I have Finn on it, but I need more. I need you back to your family”
Family my ass, you remarked for yourself. He didn’t care about the young ones, not even for the sake of novelty. He only wanted fresh meat to supply his death machine and he had found himself the three perfect idiots. Michael, Finn and yourself. The ones to replace those he lost. He wanted to shape you three into the new Arthur, John and Ada. 
Your lack of reply only meant an incentive for him to keep going
“I have a specific job that only you can pull off. It doesn’t need much skill of any type, only discipline and discretion, which I’m sure I can expect from you” He stood up and picked his coat and cap “A car will come pick you up tomorrow at 9. You and whatever belonging you have. We’ll meet in my office. I already have an apartment in your name in Birmingham. Hopefully you won’t miss the rats”
He made his way towards the door, patting you on the shoulder as his way of demonstrating affection for the sister who evaded him for more than a year. He had his hand on the handle when you finally found your voice.
“And what if I refuse?” You didn’t turn towards him. You didn’t trust yourself to have the restraint to not lunge at his face if you had to meet his eye. 
“You won’t refuse. Curiosity has always been bigger than you” He looked around, taking note of the damp stains in the walls, the dirt covered window panes, and the bitten and scratched legs of the chairs “Besides, I already had a talk with your landlady. You can do better than this” He put on his cap and disappeared into the night.
You dropped into the dusty couch and screamed at the top of your lungs, covering your face with a pillow. Be damned the day you decided not to leave the country, and be damned the day you were born a Shelby. 
~
Faced with little options, a steel resolution and, much to your displeasure, incredible and unhealthy curiosity at Thomas’ impudence, you packed your few belongings and waited for the car. You wrote a letter with a sincere apology to Mrs. Foyle and your work mates, and left them some fabrics and sewing kits you had as a farewell gift. At one minute past 9, a Bentley parked in front of your building, standing out like a sore thumb. Before curious neighbours could get a look or anyone pulled out a knife, you climbed in, letting the driver take care of your bags. And of course, your personal bodyguards climbed in too, one sitting at your side and one in the front seat. People had already begun to gather around, making you cover your face in shame as the car finally took off.
The journey back was pretty uneventful, but you could feel the knot forming in the pit of your stomach. Just thinking about home brought back so many painful memories, the idea of being back for good made you panic.
The driver left you in the steps of Shelby Company Limited, while he took off with your suitcase, promising to be back in an hour to drive you to your new apartment. Men and women who entered and left the building bid you hello respectfully with head nods and hat tippings. One of the three secretaries (who needs three anyway?) took your coat, which was much more shabby and cheap than her own, and opened the door for you, leading you into the office which you had never been allowed to see while your family was alive. Decorated with the same rich taste of Arrow House, everything was fine woods and shiny leather. And right at the centre, your brother, sitting behind his oak desk and shuffling through paperwork
“I knew you’d come around, once you had a more indepth thought of the pros and cons” As if he ever took a no for an answer “Whiskey?” He motioned towards a golden bar car, delicate ornate bottles filled with an array of liquors of all sorts, next to six perfectly lined glasses.
You poured yourself what appeared to be gin and sat across him, waving your glass in the air “So, what great trouble of yours is the reason why you forced me here” You made the internal promise to just listen, so he’d get off your back, and then tell him to go to hell. Not even the promise of all the gold in Europe would make you work for him. You’d rather beg for your bread than putting your life in his hands. 
Tommy took some files and pictures from a drawer, and went on detailing your “target” and the tasks of your mission. The more he spoke, the more your blood boiled and heat rose to your face. The nerve one needed to have to ask such things from his baby sister. Putting her right in the line of danger for the sake of greed.
“So, what do you think? Are you in?”
Oh you were going to work for him all right. You’d get right under his nose, stand right in the middle of his trusted circle, make him believe you’d climb a mountain of knives and dive in a sea of fire for him. And you were going to make him pay hell for it. Even if it took your life in the end.
You were going to take Tommy Shelby down.
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ryuzakemo128 · 2 years
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Peaky Blinders Older Sister Headcanons Part Two
Part One
Her main hobbies are writing, painting and drawing.
She got into fights at school and they were mainly due to them agitating her over the way she did certain things.
She doesn't smoke, ever. But that was made up for the fact that she was a heavy drinker growing up.
The main thing she likes studying is medicine. She devoured medical journals, studies, anything and everything related to the field of medicine.
(Before and After The War) She reads bedtime stories to her younger brother. Sometimes even to her brothers whenever they couldn't go back to sleep after a nightmare.
She stays up late to make sure she was there for them.
Her brothers being regular nightmare guests. Nightmare guests being, her brothers had a nightmare and went over to stay the night at her place. Even when it was smaller than they'd hoped for her sake.
She keeps her alcohol stash hidden from her brothers whenever they come over during the night.
She applied to be a nurse at the hospital after her brothers came back from the war. She wanted to be useful to someone, somewhere and she wanted to matter in some form or way.
Some of her earnings would always go to the rest of her family.
John's death hurt her more than she thought. But she never said anything about it to anyone of her family. She felt the need to push her own feelings about it down. Her family needed her support and she needed to grieve some other way. While they weren't there and while they couldn't see her.
After he died, she practically threw herself even harder into her studies and her work. Even when she didn't want to do anything but grieve or cry.
She remained mute afterwards. Barely talking to her siblings at times.
She stopped drinking tea, she had to force herself from crying the first few weeks. she stopped going to pubs for a while. Claiming that she needed more time for herself.
Often wondering how Thomas her younger brother kept it all inside without it bubbling over.
She'd often hung out with Arthur just to talk about it.
It took months for her to recover back to another new type of normal.
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goldensunflowe-r · 10 months
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zkvry · 8 months
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Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader
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Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.
Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism
Additional Information : > takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers) > written in third person perspective (she/her) > 847 words | 6 minutes
Author's Note : decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3
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"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.
Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"
John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.
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Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.
Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.
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He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.
Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.
Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.
Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.
Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.
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Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.
"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.
Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.
She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.
"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.
Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.
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Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.
"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"
"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.
As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.
"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.
In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.
The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.
However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.
"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.
She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.
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warnersister · 1 month
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Peaky blinders headcannon ->
“the boys finding out the reader is a virgin”
Find the request here
Tommy🪖
🪖Tommy had been courting you for a good few months now; much longer than he would any other woman. But he quite liked you so he was more than willing to make an exception for the lovely young lady that had just moved to the area.
🪖You’d moved for a fresh start, away from your past and to Birmingham. You’d packed your bags and left home and got on the train - taking it as far as it would go and got out when the conductor pleaded with you to disembark as they’d start the journey back to your beginnings.
🪖You’d accepted the job at The Garrison, noting the sign in the window as you aimlessly wandered the streets, mindlessly questioning your intentions. The sign in the window was almost a call from God and you hurried inside, being greeted by the bar man and a few raised eyebrows at the young girl with her life in a suitcase and hair all tangled. “Y’alright love? Look like you need a drink.” You shook your head. “A job is what I need. Still hiring?” You asked and he looked you over once. “When can you start?”
🪖So eleven months deep with a flat and a job you were quite happy in Birmingham. Your specialty straying away from being a barmaid and more towards being a hostess and front of house staff. You’d seat people and prepare the hotel lodgings upstairs, and arrange rooms and port for pesky business when it came down to it. And in the process you’d captured the attention of a certain blinder who believed he had no business interfering with the life of a young maiden just getting back on her feet, but you entertained him so who was he to be so austere and deny himself such pleasures?
🪖You were shutting shop on a Saturday night, footfall substantial and you’d finally managed to kick all drunkards out of the pub after much struggle and a bit of help from John Shelby, who’d tipped his hat and went on his merry way. You’d grabbed your coat of the hanger, hearing the door bell chime behind you “we’re closed” you announced, pivoting on your heel “I know.” That all familiar voice sounded and you peeked your head. “Alright, Tommy?” You ask, getting your bag and fastening your coat; preparing for a cold winter night in Birmingham.
🪖He stepped closer and you, in turn, stepped backwards until you were trapped against the bar. “This has gone on for long enough,” he says gruffly, staring deep into your eyes and studying your face. You’d raised your brows “what has, Tom?” He shook his head and chuckled slightly. “You and I; ‘m so sick of seeing you and not being able to have you for myself.” He tells you, right arm wrapping around your waist and head dipping slightly.
🪖Your hand came up to hold him where he was and he stopped, in question. “Not like this Tommy.” You say, looking away but he grasps your chin gently to pull you back to face him. “Not like this?” He hums “Thomas, I’ve never..” you lead off hoping he’d understand what you were implying. He thought for a moment before it clicked. “Never?” You shook your head “never.” His Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed a lump in his throat “never.” He mumbled. “And how should I go about this the right way?” He asked, settling his hands on your hips and smiling slightly.
🪖“Dinner and a nice walk.” You say and he nods with a hum. “How’s tomorrow?” You shake your head “not leaving Harry to deal with your lot on a Sunday.” “When you next off?” He asks “Friday.” “Then we’ll go out on Friday.” You nod and smile, but point a judging finger at him. “No guns” he smiles “yes sweetheart, no guns.” “And no peaky business” he shakes his head “no business.” “No fighting either, at all” you warn and he chuckles “I promise” you lean your hand up to caress his face and he leans into your touch. “Take that bloody razor blade out of your cap too.” He raises a brow “how do you know about that?” “You underestimate the amount of times I’ve carried Arthur out of this bar and nearly sliced my hand on that thing.”
🪖“I want to see Thomas. No Shelby.” You say and he blinks. “Then Thomas you shall have.” “May I walk you home?” He asks and you smile up at him “you may” and he offers an arm to walk you to your house, looking forward to taking the last of your innocence the following Friday.
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie recently started attending his local synagogue, at first yes: to reconnect with his faith, but now it was to see the young woman who attended every day, volunteering as your father was the rabbi. Albeit that sounding wrong, Alfie thought the rabbi was bordering on ancient and you were younger than him, but you were nearly twenty six so that wasn’t too bad.. right?
🧸“Ah Mr Solomons, back again I see” the rabbi commented, noted the recent inclination of Alfie’s presence at the house of God. “Well, been trying to reconnect.” He told his superior. “With God or with my daughter?” The rabbi asked and Alfie’s brows rose. “E-excuse me?” He choked on his words. The rabbi smirked with a slight twinkle in his eye “I’m not stupid” “no, of course you’re not-” “I’ve seen how you’ve been eyeing her.” Alfie quietened for a moment. “Well, y’see she’s a lovely young lady” “I agree, that’s how I raised her.” “And I’d like to ask her for dinner, with your blessing, f’course.” Alfie began to ramble but his elder cut him off.
🧸“Not with the business you’re in, Alfred.” And his mouth ran dry. “For her I’d get out of it, move to Morecambe, open a bakery, marry, have kids, y’know I’d raise them proper.” Rabbi Kaplan again hummed “but that sort of business isn’t the kind you can get out of, is it?” “You did, Abe.” Alfie corrects him and there’s a moment of contemplative silence. “You’re right I did. But no one hurts a rabbi.” “Then I’ll get ordained.” Alfie shrugged. Abraham looked at the man before him. “Gods punished me enough. He knows how much physical pain I’m in. And ‘m not gettin’ any younger. Neither’s she. ‘nd I never wanna be in this business anymore. Wanna settle down, dogs, kids, grandkids, the works.” Alfie says and Abe’s tongue protrudes from his lips to lick his dry lips as he thinks.
🧸“If I allow this, he’s watching.” The man looks up “I know.” “And if I allow this, she calls all the shots.” Alfie nods “wouldn’t have it any other way” “as in she says no, means no. She wants to go for a walk at two in the morning, you take her. She wants to come here, you bring her. She wants to get married, you wed her.” The man took two steps closer so him and Alfie were closer than any Rabbit should be with his child “she tells you to jump of the docks, you jump.” Alfie’s eyes don’t falter. “Done.” Abraham closes his eyes and runs a hand over his face “alright, you have my blessing.” Alfie nods, trying to suppress his glee, shaking the rabbi’s hand and walking towards the front of the synagogue where you were sat counting donations.
🧸“Excuse me missus” Alfie clears his throat and you look up at him, swallowing with a lump in his throat “yes?” “I was wondering if you’d like to go for an eat to bite, I mean a bite to eat, I mean-” you giggle at him “yes Alfie I’d love to go out with you.” Alfie sighed in relief and smiled down at you noting how the rabbi had wandered off elsewhere. You sealed and locked the cash box, storing it where I belonged and Alfie held his arm out for you to take “shall we?” You grin back at him “we shall”
🧸You’d been seeing Alfie for going on several months, and today he’d arranged for a restaurant to be shut down in order for the two of you to enjoy some peace and quiet together. You’d enjoyed a lovely romantic meal, accompanied by a bouquet of white tulips and a sneaky kiss to Alfie’s cheek, which he was grateful that they were covered by a large beard - disguising his beat-red features.
🧸Alfie was walking you back to his house, as you’d both previously agreed that you’d stay for the night and head towards Morecambe Bay the following day: to pick out a cottage on the seafront.
🧸You had some clothes at Alfie’s house, for events such as this where you’d decided to stay or go elsewhere the following day without needing to drop back home for anything. You were uncoiling your hair, and your gentle giant came around to hug you from behind, kissing up your neck until you giggled from being tickled, turning to kiss his lips.
🧸Your eyes surveyed one another’s for a moment, him leaning back down to kiss you in a more seriously insinuating manner - sciatica obviously not bothering him today as he managed to pick you up and lead you to his bed. “Alfie wait,” you say quickly and the man immediately stopped “what’s wrong treacle? If y’don’t want to we’ll stop here ‘nd-” “no it’s not that” your left hand fiddled with the rings on your right “what’s wrong flower?” He caressed your cheek gently. “Alfie I’ve never done anything before.” You say and his brows form a line in confusion. “Y’what?” “Alfie I’m a virgin.” You say and time almost stands still, Alfie nearly felt sick as he’d been handling you like a woman of the night and not a dignified young lady of whom was vastly inexperienced. “‘M sorry alf.” You say, looking down. Alfie grasps your chin and forces your eyes to connect with his “it’s me who should be apologising, sweetness. Your old man didn’t know. ‘V been handling y’ like ‘y know what you’re doin’.” He says gently. “And if y’ don’t want to, we don’t have to.” “No Alfie I want to.” And you could swear you could see the hearts forming in his irises, lenses constricting into something unnatural but simultaneously not animalistic. “I’ll take good care ‘f y’ love, just lay down for Alfie and let ‘im work his magic, yeah?” He says, laying you back gently on the bed, vowing to handle you like a porcelain doll in a box of feathers.
Arthur🍺
🍺You were several years younger than Arthur, he never felt like you were - he was as immature as any lad two decades his senior, but with you he never felt his age.
🍺The peaky blinders had been invited to a lavish banquet, black tie, chandeliers, live orchestra, the works. And Arthur never shied away from an opportunity to show his lover off, especially when that dress hugged you perfectly and your matching black gloves made you look so dainty and proper. He was proud to waltz into that event, feeling almost smug with ‘such a babe’ on his arm.
🍺The evening began wonderfully, three courses, all of which Arthur found laughable as he questioned the waiter why his entree was only a piece of rocket and slice of undercooked stake. Drinks were flowing and he was happy to get tipsy while to congregated with Polly and Ada, smitten to see you engaging so well with his family and them requiting his adoration for her.
🍺You’d stood at the bar, trying to gain the attention of the bartender to order yourself another rum and coke and your date an umpteenth pint. “Hiya can I just have a rum and coke and an apple juice?” You ask the man and he raises an eyebrow. “He’s so drunk I don’t think he’ll tell the difference.” He laughs and nods, heading off to get the top of shelf rum Arthur had requested he’d serve you earlier.
🍺“Gorgeous night, isn’t it?” A voice asked from beside you and you peer left, a young gentlemen with slicked back black hair asked as he knocked back the rest of the whiskey he’d been nursing for a while, requesting another as well as your drinks being on him. “Yes lovely.” You say shortly. “Well I was just thinking-” he begins smugly, before hissing and you look back at him quickly to see whatever is the matter. His finger was drawing blood as the new glass he’d been given was chipped on the end, in turn slicing the edge of his finger. “Oh dear, here let me help” you grabbed one of the inscribed handkerchiefs from the pile and applied pressure on his finger, only noticing your proximity when he chuckled. “What a first acquaintance” you laugh and agree. “You’re good at this” he hums “nurse in the war.” You say, not really wanting to reflect on the past.
🍺“May I buy you another drink for your troubles? Or possibly dinner?” He inquires with an up quirked lip. “No thank-” “I think she’s quite happy with the fella she’s got, son.” An angered voice quipped from behind you through gritted teeth, an arm snaking around your waist as the boy’s face ran pale. “Mr Shelby, sorry she didn’t say-” “she shouldn’t have too. Now fuck off before I kick the living daylights out of ya.” Arthur threatens and the previously smug man makes himself scarce.
🍺“Arthur,” “c’mon. We’re leaving.” He says, dragging you through the crowds of people and hailing a taxi, still gentlemanly opening the door for you but clambering in beside you, the smoke billowing from his ears fogging the windows. “Fucking little boy thinking he can talk to my fuckin’ woman, fuckin’ bastard” he reiteratively mumbled under his breath until he reached his house, roughly taking you from the car and throwing a wad of cash at the driver.
🍺As soon as you entered the house you were trapped against the closed door, his lips attacking yours unexpectedly as you struggled to keep up with his might. “I’ll show him who you fuckin’ belong to” “Arthur” “little boy makes up nothin’” “Arthur” “scream my name so the little bastard will fuckin’ hear me” “Arthur I’m a virgin” the man stopped immediately, expression stopping form angered to a more gentle one. “Y’what love?” He asks quietly, tight grip on your trapped wrists loosening “I’ve never had sex before Arth, sorry for not telling you.” You could see him visibly sobering up. “Oh my darlin’ m’sorry I didn’t know.”
🍺This was the only time you’d made Arthur feel his age, his lover a virgin. “I’ll take good care of you sweetheart, if y’let me.” “Show y’ what you’ve missed out on” he chuckles and you laugh, allowing him to pick you up to carry you up the stairs and into the bedroom.
John🥃
🥃Waking up this morning and getting married to a stranger wasn’t on your bingo card. But here you are. Kneeled at the alter beside a smirking young lad who was in a similar situation. “By the power invested in me, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” The stranger smiled and you and kissed your lips sweetly.
🥃The reception was just as hazy. Drinks were flowing and laughter was heard. Your father and Thomas Shelby seemed at peace for once and all was right with the world. When slow dancing, John had held you close and embraced you like you were young lovers wed, not total strangers at the chapel. He whispered sweet nothings into your ear and smiled as you giggled back at his remarks, fighting with icing on the cake and having an overly fun time with one another’s families after the initial shock from the morning. After all, he was incredibly charming and you couldn’t get out of a gypsy marriage that easily. Not in post-war Britain.
🥃You headed back to the Shelby Manor in a car strung with cans, attached by young children earlier in the day. You looked out the window to the vast house, feeling a hand tugging gently on your hair, the owner tucking it behind your ear as you looked at home. “Glad we’re married cause I could never pull you if I tried, gorgeous.” He comments and you laugh. “You’re joking. One drink and I’d be a gonner.” “At least we got to skip the funny business” he took your chin between your forefinger and chin “cause your all mine now, darling”
🥃He’d hurried you to your room quicker than anticipated, giggling like school children up to no good. He’d kissed you tenderly once inside, behind closed doors and away from the interference of all other prying eyes.
🥃He spun you gently, hands dropping to focus on the details of the backing of your dress; unthreading and untying the intricate lacings applied to keep the gown tight to your person. The dress fell and pooled at your ankles, him attacking the now bare skin with open-mouthed kisses and gentle pecks to the untouched skin.
🥃Coming to your front, he cornered you backwards in small steps until your legs hit the bed and you fell backwards onto it - him on top of you, kissing down your bodice animalisticly. “John?” He stopped and looked up with a hypnotic gaze in his eye “yes love?” “I’ve never had sex before.” You say shakily and he stops all movement. He falters for a moment, before climbing slightly higher in order to be face to face with you “never? You’re a virgin?” You nod back and he swallows the heavy lump in his throat as his briefs tighten.
🥃“Well then what an opportunity to consummate the marriage, aye darling?” He smirks “if you’ll let me that is” you smile and offer a kiss to his lips, him getting the green flag and go ahead to give you the absolute night of your life.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie was an old fashioned lad. From a young age he drempt of the stereotypical traveller lifestyle - never a singular home, him the homemaker, wife on his arm and umpteen kids running wild. It sounded like heaven. And from the moment he’d set eyes on you Bonnie had decided that that was your role - destined to be by his side. You weren’t a gypsy yourself, but he was certain he could sway you but either way he was happy to compromise as long as he had you.
🥊Tonight was one of, if not the, biggest night of his life thus far. The largest and most important fight he’d ever partake in, not only against the reigning champion which would secure his fate of being the new ruler, but also performing in front of the Peaky Blinders - prove himself to the trust Tommy Shelby had bestowed upon him. And most significantly, you were watching.
🥊He was stood in his changing room, allowing you to gently wrap his hands while his father gave him a pep talk. “Five minutes son.” His dad said, patting his back and nodding at you as he left to give you a minute alone before his spotlight moment. You finished wrapping the cloth around his palms and took his face into your hands, forcing him to look at you. “How we feeling champ?” You ask, trying to wake him up from his dystopian trance. “‘m scared m’love.” He mumbled as you frowned slightly. “Why’re you scared? Talk to me Bon, get it all out. You scared about the Shelby family? I’ll kick ‘em out-" “scared ‘m gonna disappoint you.” He says and you falter.
🥊“Bon you could never disappoint me, why would you think that?” He sighed, looking away before beginning to admit his desires. “Just wanna make you proud. I want to marry you and give you my children and travel as a family. But if I lose you won’t want to do that.” He grumbles. You chuckle slightly. “You’re such a dafty, Bon.” You say and his eyebrows crease. You lean into kiss him as he happily requites the gesture. “Bonnie of course I want to be with you either way. I don’t care if you loose, hell I don’t care if you don’t want to fight and walk out, I’ll walk right out with you.” You say.
🥊“I never knew you felt like that but I’d love to marry you Bon and have your children and I’d be willing to travel with you. I just need you to stop fretting and go win this. I love ya Bonnie.” You say, leaning your forehead against his. “You mean it?” He asks, giddily. You nod “I do”
🥊“God if I win this we’re gonna get started on those kids.” He says, getting riled up as the minutes tick down. You laugh at him “anything you want, Bonnie. Always wanted my first time to be with you.” You say and time stops. His father knocks on the door to hail his son out to the ring.
🥊“BONNIE!” “You’re a virgin?” “Yes” “BONNIE COME ON!” “And you want me to take your virginity?” “Yes Bonnie I trust you. Now go.” He hurries out of the door reluctantly, all riled up and heading for the ring.
🥊The knockout was inevitable, his opponent out cold in a matter of rounds, blood flowing freely from Bonnie’s nose as he celebrated by raising his hands victoriously above his head, father and Blinders crowding him to pat him on the back and exchange congratulations. But none of that mattered. It was just faint ringing in the background. All he could see was you stood a fair way back from the celebrating men climbing over the limb body on the ground no one had seemed to care too. He looked upon your innocent doe eyes and soft smile staring back at him as he blew you a kiss; and never has he been so desperate to get away from his own party.
🥊And after a good few hours and countless attempts to get you all to himself, you were back in Bonnie’s humble beginning: laid on your back as your boy thrust into you gently, trying not to hurt you while simultaneously trying to adhere to his desperation for you. “Faster Bon, please.” “Wanna give me a child? Is that it?” He asks and you nod meekly, as he quickens his pace desperate to bed his maiden in his own place called home.
Isaiah♟️
♟️Isaiah had been trying to get to you for many many years. Countless attempts proving fruitless from not only your rejections, but also your elder brother’s: Finn’s. Any time Isaiah had any suggestion on courting you he was shot down by his friend, who’d smack the back of his head and scold him for thinking such things. “I’ll cut your dick off and shove it in your ear if you keep thinking about my sister with it” he’d tell him.
♟️But tonight, oh tonight. Darling you looked ravishing. The Blinders were celebrating a grand festivity at Shelby Manor, someone was getting married.. or someone was dead, Isiah needn’t have cared less. Because when you cascaded the stairs, Mary Jane’s on foot and tight black dress clung to your bodice, Isaiah had to physically refrain himself from grabbing you from the get go.
♟️Sure, he’d mingled with others and drank freely with the brothers; but not once did he stray his eyes away from your figure, never letting you out of his sight. Not when you looked so delicious and drinkable, mouth running so dry he’d have to reiteratively lubricate it with whiskey. A bit of the good ole’ ‘Dutch-Courage’, aye?
♟️Finally noticing an opportunity when you brother wasn’t lingering over your shoulder, scolding you for wearing such a gown, Isaiah made his move. He slivered to the bar beside you, where Harry was offered a well-paying job serving for the evening and told him to get you another of whatever it is that you were drinking. “Your brother lets you wear a dress like this?” He questions, knocking back the rest of his whiskey and hailing for another.
♟️“No. But I am not Finn and he is nor I” you tell him, nursing the edge of your glass with your finger absentmindedly trailing it. He leant closer. “Tell you, if you were my woman that dress would be on the floor of my room right about now.” He promised and you shivered at the thought. “But I’m not your woman, am I Isaiah?” You rhetorically ask, sipping and please to feel the alcohol running down your throat.
♟️“Oh god if you were.” He said, trailing off. “I’d have you married, knocked up, never not pregnant. Have your last name Jesus. My dad would do the ceremony, y’know. Get you a nice little bouquet and pretty white dress I get to ravish you in afterwards.” He said “well you’ve got it all planned out, huh Mr Jesus?” You snort but you are backed against the bar, two hands either side of your waist as your belittled by the taller between you.
♟️“Believe me I’ve dreamt of the day since I first saw you, just your fucking brother wouldn’t let me.” You eye his lustful expression. “As I said, Isaiah. I am not my brother, nor is he I.” You repeat slowly, relaying that your older sibling(s) had no say in what was going on at that moment. “You’re playing with fire, little girl” he warned “then let me get burned” you say, batting your eyelashes doe-like and innocently, as you dared him to make the move your core had been dying for for decades.
♟️His nostrils flare as you wrap his tie around your hand and yank at it harshly, bringing an ear close to your lips to offer a promise never before foretold. “Isaiah I’m a virgin” you whisper, before releasing his tie and straightening his suit. He follows the lump in his throat before surveying the room once and looking down at you, grabbing your hand to drag you through the crowds of people and into the safe proximities of his bedroom for newly discovered events.
♟️The evening died down and the chatter faltered, as Thomas Shelby announced a new betrothal in the family. However he was unable to promise the two, because the bride and groom were missing.
Michael🎱
🎱Oh god I’ve been waiting for this one. Michael absolutely eats that shit up.
🎱You and Michael were first acquainted when himself, Thomas and John travelled to the Cotswolds in order to engage in some legal business with the Wentworth family - Tommy spoke business with the ceo of the family, while John entertained the mother and Michael; the daughter.
🎱Michael was an old fashioned man with old fashioned views. He liked his women obedient and untouched and willing to listen to his every word - just like they were supposed too.
🎱They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.
🎱“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”
🎱“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.
🎱“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.
🎱“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.
🎱“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.
🎱“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.
🎱“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.
🎱“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.
🎱“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.
🎱“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.
🎱“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.
🎱“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”
🎱After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.
🎱The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.
🎱“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”
🎱Before either of you really knew it the two were being wed on the great estate of the Wentworth Mansion, both smiling at each other at the end of the aisle like giddy school children with a secret. Within the hour you were husband and wife and Michael had the life and wife he had so hoped and dreamed for.
🎱The reception was a glamorous event; dancing and drinking and the celebration of you being safe, and the Shelby name moving up in the social hierarchy of local reputation. Yourself and Michael had snuck off for a moment alone with one another, to discuss the whirlwind of a day and plans moving forwards together. “May I say my darling you look absolutely divine.” He comments, taking your hand to make you do a full 360 turn to display your attire to him. He swore the dress was adorned entirely in Tiffany crystals. “Thank you, you are too kind.” He tuts “I can never be too kind to my wife.” He smiles.
🎱“And may I be so reckless to say I cannot wait to get this dress of you either” he smirked and you raised your brows as your cheeks reddened. “If that is no problem of course, my lady?” He confirms and you nod. “I apologise for my experience, for I have never before been with a man.” You admit, bashfully and his mouth ran dry. “Never?” You shook your head in confirmation. “Never, Michael.” You say and he gleefully picks you up to spin you around as you laugh at his response. “Well my darling, I hope you know I am prepared to take more than good care of you this evening. And of course continue the family name.”
Finn🎞️
🎞️You were the first girl Finn really cared about. Sure, he’d been on dates and hired whores to satisfy his desires. But he’d never really given much thought into actually taking his time with a girl. Until he saw you working at the bookshop two streets in the wrong direction from the Garrison.
🎞️Him, Isaiah and Bonnie were basically being little shits on the streets of Birmingham when he’d saw you organising shelves through the window, brow furrowed and tongue slightly protruding from your lips as you struggled to place an old hardback on the top shelf. The other two lads had carried on walking whereas Finn had stopped, the other two halting a few ways down to road to figure out where their third had gone, turning to see him awestruck at the bookshop window.
🎞️They hurried back, laughing at the boy who was notably illiterate. Finn could not read, nor write but was staring into the bookshop. “What y’ doing Finn? No picture books in there!” Isaiah joked, straining to see what Finn was so intently staring at. “Ah the girl” Bonnie elbowed him. “She won’t want you mate.” Isaiah informed him “she’s got Shakespeare and Wordsworth. You don’t even know who I’m on about.” And Isaiah was right. You did look dignified and well read because you were. And he was just Finn.
🎞️But he found himself two street in the wrong direction every day nearly, at least when he could find time to slip away. And Isaiah and Bonnie were sick of their lovesick friend ditching them to stare at a stranger awkwardly through a window. Then one day, when the three were repeating their galavant from the first time they saw you, Isaiah shoved him in the door.
🎞️The bell chimed and you turned from your stepladder “just a minute!” You climbed down and approached the disheveled boy at the door. “Can I help you?” You ask “book” he says and you crease your brows “…book?” Isaiah chimed in behind him “he wants to buy a book” he confirms as he smacks Finn around the back of the head. “Any book in particular?” “My first alphabet!” Bonnie exclaims, and the two boys begin cackling loudly and Finn grits his teeth and pushes the two out of the door.
🎞️“Eh what do you recommend?” He asked, scratching the back of his head and his eyes wander on all the paved backs of untouched literature. “What do you like? Fiction? Non-fiction?” Finn looks at you gone out. You look around for a simple poetry book you know is easy to understand “here, try this it’s one of my favourites” Finn nods and turns the book over in his hands and has a quick flick through. “How much do I owe you?” He asks, pushing his hand into his pocket. You shake your head “just come back and exchange it once you’re done.” Finn nods. He could do that. He thanks you and begrudgingly heads out the door to his friends who were still hounding him for the situation and he just smiles at you through the window.
🎞️Finn was getting ribbed week in and week out by both his friends and older brothers, Arthur drunkenly questioning in front of everyone why he hadn’t hired any whores recently and why books were appearing by his bed when he couldn’t read. The family laughed as his face reddened, Isaiah explaining that the lovely young lady down the bookshop had his interest peaked.
🎞️“Y’got her in bed yet?” John asked with a smirk and the younger boy elbowed him sharply. “No.” He mumbled. “No? Ol’ ‘just want a shag’ here hasn’t gotten a lady in bed?” His brother joked. “No she’s not the kind of lass I want to put off.” “Ah” Tommy ruffled his hair. “She’s the real deal then?” He smiled while lighting up another cigarette. Finn thought for a moment before nodding. Yeah, you were the real deal.
🎞️“Date” Finn said as he crashed through the door of your bookshop. You raised a brow at him. “Date with me, please.” He says, panting. “Finn are you alright?” You ask, placing a hand on his back. Me nods, heaving and placing his hands on his knees. He’d just ran here from being with his family. “Do you want to go on a date with me?” He asked when he’d finally gotten his wind back. You smiled and nodded. “Yes I would Finn, when?” “Now.” You raise your brows. “Right now?” “Yeah. If you’d like.” You look down at the dainty wristwatch you were wearing and decided it was wishful thinking if you thought that you were going to get any more footfall in the next hour before you closed. You hummed and nodded. “Sure, let’s go.”
🎞️Finn took you to one of the nicest restaurants in Birmingham in walking distance, waiter seating you quickly after he noticed who Finn was, handing the two of you two open menus. You looked over the options, but was soon distracted by Finn’s conflicted face. “You alright, Finn?” He nods. “What’s up?” He ponders for a minute before mumbling something. “Sorry?” “I can’t read and this has no pictures.” He admits sheepishly, averting his eyes from yours.
🎞️“You can’t read?” You ask, mulling over the past several weeks where you’d be too-ing and fro-ing with Finn with your book recommendations. “But you’ve been borrowing books for months-” “just to see you.” He says, looking down as a smile began to grew on your lips. “I understand if you want to leave. You’re smart and pretty and I’m just an illiterate gangsta.” He says, mentally readying himself for your leave. You placed your hand on top of his where it was laid on the table. “Finn that’s so sweet.” His brows shot up. “You did that for me?” You ask, biting your lips as he affirms your question. You place a chaste kiss to his cheek as you realise just how much the blinder truly cared about you.
🎞️“Let’s get out of here.” You say, breaking the silence. “Seriously?” He asks, moving closer for a more private conversation. “I’m serious. Let’s go.” You say, “really? We don’t have too if you don’t want too-” “Finn Shelby. Let’s go.” And you didn’t have to tell him again, running back home like two giddy school children, hiding away in his room for the rest of the evening, ended by you laying on his bare chest while he drew shapes into your relaxed shoulder.
🎞️“That was better than I expected for my first time.” You admit, staring at the ceiling. It takes a few minutes for Finn to clock onto what you’d just said. He looks down at you, movement of his thumb faltering. “You were a virgin?” He asks, lump in his throat growing as he forced himself to swallow it. “Yeah.” He smirks.
🎞️“Nice.”
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themultifandomgal · 5 months
Note
Oh, oh, I have a request! ~~
I have had this one in my mind for a long time. What about Tommy Shelby X sister!reader where before the war he knew her as his sweet naive sister that chokes on cigarette smoke, doesn’t like whisky and looks exactly like their mother. After he returns she is a complete different person, while the men were at war she had to take on the family business with Polly, so she has become a kind of criminal genius? Cold, calculated, unhinged at times and highly intelligent. Tommy is so shock that at first he can’t even recognize her, the look in her eyes is completely different. Maybe that shock turns into fascination, and that fascination into concern as soon as he sees what she has become.
I hope I’m not in difficulty to you with this request, I just need to get it out of my mind. Feel free to ignore it. Thanks. 🫀
Shelby Sister- A Different Girl
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Before the war YN was an innocent sweet girl who never smoked or drank. She was the Shelby's pride and joy having being the only one who would rather sit and read a book instead of going out getting pissed. Tommy remembered the first time John gave YN a drink and she almost threw up from it. He also remembered when she tried one of his cigarettes and couldn't stop coughing. YN was your typical sweet doe eyed girl. So when Tommy and his brothers returned from the war they almost didn't recognise the sweet girl. Before the war she would wear dresses, have her long hair braided with a bow now she was in trousers, her hair cut short and the smile she once wore on her face was now gone.
While the boys were away YN took on the family business with her aunt Polly, dealing with many men she had to learn to grow up and how to keep herself safe.
YN walks through the door of the betting shop with her head held high. She walks over to John who's writing the bets on the bored. Rolling her eyes YN snatches the chalk from her brothers hand leaving him shocked
"Your doing it wrong" YN says rubbing off his work "oh and since it's a Friday, Mr Johnson will be in. If you don't deal with him straight away he will cause issues"
"Issues" John scoffs
"Don't say I didn't warn you"
"YN go home. Your not needed" YN turns around to see Tommy walking in with Arthur. YN raises her eyebrows
"You need me"
"No we don't. We dealt with the shop fine before we went away"
"Polly and turned the shop into what it is today. So no. I'm not going home" YN and Tommy end up having a stare off which Tommy becomes fascinated with how much his sister has changed.
YN stays at the betting shop dealing with difficult men with ease which surprises all of her siblings. One man in particular enters the betting shop, a man YN has dealt with many times. The shop had not long closed
"I told you last time to piss off" YN says barley looking at the man while she carries on doing the books
"And I told you last time I'd be back"
"Look" YN sighs now looking up at the man "Mr Harris. I'm a bit tired of removing you from the the shop. So since my brothers are back I'll let you keep that last shred of dignity you have and let you walk out of here on your own" Mr Harris starts laughing as YN stands up from her seat. Tommy watches from his office ready to intervene and any second. But what took him back was seeing his once sweet and innocent sister take out a gun and give the man a warning shot. But when the man started laughing Tommy whiteness his sister shout the man in the head. Fascination turns to concern as he watches YN place her gun back in her holster then wipe the blood off her face
"I actually liked this top" she sighs
"YN?" Tommy slowly walks out of his office slowly "why did you shoot him?"
"He's been a pain for months. Good riddance if you ask me. Now I best get rid of this body" YN says placing her hands on her hips. Long gone has Tommys sister, and she's been replaced with almost a new person. Someone Tommy knows doesn't need protecting, someone he knows he can rely on.
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book-place · 2 years
Text
To Be Tommy
Warnings: 1x04 spoilers, cursing, grenade, explosion, let me know if I missed any :)
Parings: Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Finn Shelby x sister reader
*not my gif*
Summary: In the middle of a competition to see who could be the best Tommy Shelby, something goes wrong
A/N: I was in the mood to write for Peaky Blinders
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
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“Vrooom!” Finn made the noise effects with his voice as he pretended to steer Tommy’s car, arms swiftly moving from side to side.
He looked over at you with a large, childish grin that took up at least half of his face, “Look, Y/n! I’m just like Tommy!”
You rolled your eyes slightly at your twin brother and crossed your arms with a huff, “But I want to be Tommy!” The complaint came out as a whine.
It was then Finn’s turn to roll his eyes in annoyance, ‘clicking’ his tongue to the best of his ability, “You can’t be Tommy!”
“Why not?” You demanded.
“‘Cause you’re a girl!” He said matter of factly, head turning the other way as he stuck his nose up.
Steam was practically coming out of your ears by this point, “Oh just you wait, Finn Shelby! I’ll be a better Tommy than you! Watch this, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”
It was a word you had heard your elder brother say very often, but Polly always warned you that she better not ever catch you saying it. She then normally proceeded to slap Tommy upside the head for saying it in front of you.
Finn gasped and gaped at you, appalled that you would try to top him like that, “Hey!” He exclaimed in anger, “That’s cheatin’! It’s too easy!”
You simply shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms and sticking your tongue out at him, “Well then you should have done it before me.”
All of a sudden, the sound of hasty steps filled your ears, and your head snapped up with wide eyes when your older brother's voice called out, “Finn. Y/n.”
There was an urgency behind it that you had never heard before. He was always so calm and collected. So sure of himself, it was one of the things that you hoped to learn from him someday.
He slowly walked towards the two of you, a hand raised as if to calm someone down, “Finn, Y/n, stay exactly where you are.” Though it was supposed to be an order, it almost sounded like a beg.
You giggled, not yet old enough to actually comprehend the out of character concern that your second eldest brother was displaying, “We were pretending to be you.” You explained between laughs.
Finn gave a cheeky grin, “Yeah! And I’ve obviously been better than her.”
Before you could open your mouth to begin to argue against him again, Tommy continued speaking, “Which door did you two come in?”
“We didn’t.” The young boy stated proudly, momentarily forgetting your argument as he shared a prideful look with you, “We climbed in. Me first, then I helped Y/n in.”
Tommy continued moving, coming around to the window of the car, “I want you to climb out exactly the way you climbed in, okay?”
Finn looked to the side at you, pouting slightly because the game was over, but you merely shrugged as if to say that you didn’t need the car to play.
But a mischievous look came over your twin brother's face, and this time it was him that was giggling as he opened the door closest to him and jumped out.
“No, no, Finn!” Tommy yelled, grabbing a grenade that fell out of the door and chucking it in the direction away from the three of you, shouting, “Clear!” To the nearby people.
Then he didn’t waste a second scooping you out of the car, taking Finn in his other arm and running the opposite way, shielding the both of you with his own body as an explosion took place behind you.
All three of you were panting heavily, you grasping onto a fist full of your older brother's jacket as tears began to well up in your eyes, just like you could hear was happening to Finn.
After waiting at least thirty seconds to make sure everything was okay, Tommy finally set you both down and turned around, but grasped your hands in his own as he walked, as if to reassure himself that you were both still there and alive.
He suddenly stopped walking and kneeled down, taking you each by a shoulder and looking back and forth directly into your eyes, shaking you slightly, “That is why you should never pretend to be me.” He panted out, “Okay?”
You and your twin brother each tearfully nodded, prompting Tommy to stand up and bring you both into a long hug that was given back tightly by both of you as you grasped onto the man you both looked up most to in the world for comfort.
“But, Tommy…” You said after a moment, pulling away and sniffling as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, “I’m a better Tommy than he is. Watch. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The tears could still be heard in your voice and there was no longer the same urgency as when you had been saying the word before.
Despite everything, your older brother let out a watery chuckle and ruffled your hair, “Yeah, n/n, you’re doing it better.”
“What?” Finn exclaimed in outrage, stomping a foot, “I can do that too! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
Tommy threw you a sneaky and playful wink, “Sure, Finn. You can do it too… just don’t tell Aunt Polly.”
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geekwritersworld · 1 year
Text
Little Artist -Part 2
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Part 1
Pairing: Peaky blinders x siblingreader (more inclusion of Tommy for now)
Warnings: none
Summary: was a request, as stated in the previous part.
a/n: So, I decided to make a series of this cause I feel like the first part had series potential. Secondly, this part is quite short but it's vital to the third part. Also i am aware that the request is for a sister reader but i did try to be as inclusive as i could. Let me know what you think :)
Feedback is appreciated
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The air chilled your fingers as you walked out of the university clutching your bag.
Somehow Tommy managed to listen to you for once, you thought.
Tommy refused, at first, to let you travel back to small heath from London on your own, he insisted on sending Isaiah to pick you up.
It wouldn't come as a surprise if Isaiah was somewhere around right now following you to make sure you were safe. If anything it would be a surprise if he wasn't following you right now.
You weren't fully attending university yet seeing as you still had a month of school left. However, during the days you were free you decided to get acquainted with the university and the city you'd be calling home for a while.
Once you'd gotten used to the idea of you moving to London for university, you couldn't ignore the little ball of excitement slowly growing in your chest.
It was such a freeing yet terrifying thought. You were afraid of moving away from your family, from the safety of your home, yet you were excited at the numerous opportunities that would open up for you in university.
Turning the corner of the building, focusing on your footsteps and keeping your head down because of the wind, the extra set of footsteps went unnoticed, the noise of the footsteps masked by the wind and the chatter of the rest of the students that had walked out of the university.
Having only been around in the university for less than 2 weeks, you didn't know anyone, but truth be told, you didn't exactly put any effort into making any friends or talking to anyone either.
There was something that made you feel out of place, you couldn't put your finger on it.
But you tried not to focus on it, instead you sped up your pace; pushing past a crowd of students.
Sitting down on your seat on the train, you couldn't help but wonder about the professor that had introduced himself today. There was something odd about him, the whole time for the first 45 minutes he glanced at you every few minutes. But you shrugged it off, you didn't want to believe that there was anything wrong with the university you'd wanted to go to for so long.
You jolted awake at the sound of the whistle and quickly realized you'd fallen asleep and had arrived at Birmingham, so you grabbed your things and stepped off the train, standing there for a second, you spotted a man standing by the pillar, his head down, cigarette hanging from his lips.
"Tommy" you gave a small smile " Not even surprised" you adjusted your bag looking at him.
Walking ahead a few steps in front of him, you felt the weight of your bag shifting, turning around you saw Tommy motioning you to shrug your bag off, so he could carry it.
You let him hold your bag, and then paused for a second before continuing. You wondered whether you should talk to Tommy about the professor, but then you realized Tommy in true Shelby fashion would probably exaggerate the whole thing.
Tommy noticed but let it go, he decided if it needed to be brought up he would, later on.
Aunt Pol greeted you with a smile, hugging you and ushering you indoors for a cup of tea.
"How's the University treating you?" she set her tea cup down and looked at you. "and i don't mean just study wise, you know that" she said before you could answer.
Giving a small smile you responded with "it's alright, it's only just begun so 'm not really expecting much"
Pol gave a small smile of acknowledgement, but didn't say anything further. Really, she just wanted to make sure you were alright, she was sure it couldn't be easy having to go through the new phase alone, she also knew you were like Tommy in more ways she'd like, meaning you wouldn't necessarily tell them if there's something bothering you. Most likely in true Shelby fashion, you'd either ignore it till it went away or you'd try and deal with it yourself.
Since it was still early in the day, Pol had to leave and head back to the betting shop while you decided to stay home and read. It was only around four in the afternoon, the trip to london and back had exhausted you, so you opted to stay home and rest.
Heating up the rest of the tea Polly had left in the kettle, you settled on the couch.
A little distance away, at the noisy betting shop, Tommy was hunched over the paperwork he'd acquired for the day. Unable to focus after rereading the same line twice, Tommy cursed, slamming the pen down and putting out the cigarette.
He straightened up and leaned his head back in his chair.
It had been a month since his last confrontation with the inspector, since his Aunt shot the inspector at the races. It unnerved your older brother to let you go unprotected around on your own considering there was always someone or the other threatening him or his family.
Tommy and Arthur once snorted at the fact that Polly had shot Campbell in time for you to be safe to leave for University safely without Campbell having the opportunity to threaten you.
Arthur had suggested that he could- on some days accompany you to London, and then was a little offended when you retorted that you'd rather your professors didn't disappear one after the other and surface at a lake blinded.
Of course he had Isaiah trailing after you, and he knew that you were aware of it as well, but there were of course certain points when you were alone.
His instincts told him something was very wrong. Ada had only the other day made a joke about how the current lack of threats and bloodshed was unnerving.
Little did she know her older brother wasn't joking.
Getting up from his seat he poured himself some whiskey and downed it one gulp, then he stepped out of his office, paying no attention to everyone in the betting shop quieting down at his presence, and strode right out of the shop.
He spotted Isaiah and Finn having a smoke down the street and he strode towards them.
"Finn" Tommy said in a tone that almost seemed like his younger brother had the most boring name known to him.
Looking up, both Finn and Isaiah straightened, knowing Tommy meant business.
"I need you to find Grace"
Turning around and heading back into the betting shop, Tommy pushed open the door and walked back into his office and shut the door.
That night, when Tommy returned he saw everyone gathered around the dining table, eating and talking, everyone except you.
You were nowhere to be seen.
"Where's y/n?" Tommy asked, putting away his hat.
Finn looked up at him "Asleep on the sofa"
"she looked so worn down this afternoon, decided to let her sleep" Polly put down her cup "wake her up will you, she's got to eat atleast"
Turning around to walk down the hallway into the living room, Tommy saw your sleeping figure on the sofa and moved to you.
calling your name he nudged you awake, he didn't expect you to startle awake before he even got close to you.
Standing there, while you snapped your head to look at him, he raised a brow. "You wake like that normally eh?"
Rolling your eyes, you rubbed your eyes and got off the sofa, walking past your brother.
When you entered the dining room after freshening up you were glad that they acknowledged you but didn't ask much about your day as you were in no mood to talk. Not to mention the fact that you had spotted someone watching the house was definitely not making it any better.
You hadn't even noticed at first, but when you'd walked closer to the window to open it you'd noticed a male figure too far to catch his face but close enough to know he was watching the house, at first you assumed it was one of the blinders and went and sat back on the sofa, but realized the hat was different. Not to mention had there been a blinder watching the house, Aunt Pol would have told you before she left that afternoon.
You had wondered how you'd bring it up with your family, but before you could think of a way, you'd fallen asleep. The exhaustion of the last few days had caught up and hit you hard, that not even this could keep you awake.
When Tommy had called your name to wake you, you had woken up scared for a second that the man watching the house had got in. And once you realized it was Tommy, you knew you wouldn't have to wait long to bring it up with Tommy because you were sure he'd talk to you about it before you went to bed.
And after dinner that was precisely what had happened.
Heading up the stairs to your room, the door remained open, you knew Tommy would bound up the stairs after you in a few seconds.
And he did, right on time a few seconds later.
"I presume you know why I'm here" Tommy sat down on your bed. You rolled your eyes but smiled a little at his antics.
sometimes you felt as though the Tommy before the war was still around in the little things such as this. In the sarcastic way he occasionally spoke to you with, just as he often did before the war. The only difference being, at that time it ended with him smiling and laughing at your frustration while you would playfully smack him, now, however- he would sit there expressionless while you would crack a small smile at the tiny glimpse of the boy your brother once used to be.
Folding away your clothes, you said "which one would like to hear first?"
"whichever one that made you pause at the station"
Continuing to shuffle about your room, organizing things, you got to the point " well, I've got this professor, he's strange, I'm not sure how but I've caught him staring at me quite a few times, not in a perverted way, i don't think" you shrugged "just in a way like- he knows something about me that I don't sort of way you know" Tommy's eyes narrowed.
"and then last few days on my way back, been feeling like I'm being followed, I don't think it's Isaiah since I know he's there, but like its someone else but it's probably just Isaiah and-" you paused to turn and look at your brother "have you had a blinder watching the house today?"
Tommy sat up straight and looked at you carefully "no"
Shoulders slumping, you sighed "well in that case someone's watching the house. Don't know who though"
"can you describe him?" Tommy asked.
"not really, he was a bit far off, but I think he wore a coat"
anything else?" Tommy pressed.
"I think, I could be wrong" you said " but I think he had a stick- a walking stick I mean"
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Text
Clementina pt1
A/N: hello! This is my first fic and hopefully you enjoy it. It was originally just a one shot fanfic but I didn’t realise how long it was going to be so I’m thinking it will be at least two parts but if you want it be a full series of how the Shelby’s adjust to clementina then just let me know! And if you already gathered, this is based after the scene in season 5 ep3 when Tommy and Polly visit the nuns at st Hilda’s. Hope you enjoy!. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.
Summery: the Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight. pt2: pt3: pt4
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Word count: 1,567
The early sunrise fills the Shelby manor, the home of Thomas Shelby and his son is strangely quiet considering it is nearing six am on a Saturday. Commonly, the maids would have Charlie up and having his breakfast by now. however, the only noise filling the silence was the ticking of the small clock on the wall behind Tommy's desk in his office. Inside the office, sat Tommy and his aunt, Polly. accompanying the pair were five piles of old folders sitting on Tommy's desk and on the floor beside Polly's discarded handbag, which she placed there no less than seven hours ago. these folders currently hold the information of the young girls who resided in St Hilda's orphanage.
Two days prior, the aunt and nephew visited the nun-owned orphanage after Tommy had received a concerning report, from a young girl who recently left the care of St Hilda's after turning 18, about abuse that was occurring within the walls of the orphanage. after the rushed meeting, Tommy stopped the funding he was providing and Polly requested the folders of every girl in their care so they could place them into new orphanages ran by the Grace Shelby foundation. Tommy and Polly didn't expect was the folders arriving two hours before midnight and there to be nearly three hundred folders. they knew the orphanage was overrun but not that much. For the past seven hours, the pair had been reading and placing the folders into different piles for the different orphanages that they were going to place the girls in. Most of them were in Birmingham but the occasional one was in London or Manchester.
They were getting close to finishing, having only a handful left to read. this allowed Tommy to have another smoke break. he stood by the double-glazed windows, staring out to the fields watching as his horses walked around slowly and ate freshly cut grass. the room was still quiet, except for the reoccurring sound of Tommy blowing out smoke and inhaling every few seconds. However, the sound of Polly gasping under her breath catches Tom's attention, making him turn around, “Thomas” the middle-aged woman whispered, “You need to see this” she states, her voice full of shock.
Tommy frowns as he walks back towards his desk, “ what is it, ey?” he questions curiously, the newly light cigarette hangs from between his lips.
“Just read it Thomas” she sighs, Polly begins to bite her nails. a habit she does when she is stressed. Tommy opens the folder and begins to read the information, which was written in a hurry because the handwriting was messier than the others.
Tommy was confused at Polly's reaction, to him this was just another folder detailing information about an unwanted little girl placed into the orphanage five years ago. that was until he read the section about her parent....he slams the folder down on his desk and puts his cigarette out into his ashtray, he rubs his hand down his face, a sign he was stressed “ fucking hell” he grumbles, staring at the folder.
“ fucking hell indeed” Polly agrees, watching her nephew across from her “It seems you have a kid sister, out there Thomas” She shakes her head in disbelief, she knew Arthur Shelby Sr was known to sleep around but she did not expect to have another Shelby stuck in this world because of him. Polly grabs the folder again and begins to re-read it.“ another fucking Shelby” Polly chuckles under her breath, Tommy was quiet as he thinks about what they should do. he knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her into the world of crime that the family were involved in but he knew Polly wouldn't let him leave her in the care of an orphanage.
Tommy suddenly stands up, grabbing his jacket “Pol, ring around, tell everyone to be here in three hours” he demands, walking out of the office not telling Polly where he was going and he didn't give her the time to ask either because he was out of the house and into his car in the record time of three minutes.
By the time everyone was around the Shelby manor, Tommy was back from wherever he left. He walks into his office. Polly was sitting on the chair was was sitting on earlier, Ada was sitting on the leather seat by the bookshelf with Karl standing beside her. Arthur was standing by the windows with Finn beside him. They were all waiting impatiently for him
“ thank fuck for that, thought you'd never turn up” Arthur states annoyedly. His hands are in his pockets.
Ada rolls her eyes at Arthur’s language “What’s the emergency that made you wake me and Karl up at six in the morning?” She questions Tommy.
Tommy walks over to his desk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket “Me and Pol have been sorting through the orphan girls' files” he explains, sitting down at his desk.
Finn frowns “And what’s that got to do with any of us?” No one answers him, he was allowed to come to meetings but he isn’t allowed to contribute to them
Tommy lights his cigarette and inhales then exhales smoke before he begins to talk again “There’s a girl, who might be of interest to us” he looks towards Polly.
Polly smiles slightly “Her names clementine, nine years old” she explains, looking around at the Shelby siblings.
Ada shakes her head “Why would a little girl be of interest to you Thomas” She narrows her eyes slightly, feeling suspicious of Tommy.
Tommy rolls his eyes slightly and leans back into his chair “Her mother died when she was four, she was left with her drunken father, who lasted three months before he dropped her off at St Hilda’s” he repeated what he read in the file, three hours prior.
Pol sighs “ for god's sake Thomas, just tell them” she demands irritated, she sits up straight “Her fathers name is Arthur Shelby sr” she announces. The atmosphere in the office quickly changed, you could hear a pin drop from how quiet it became. Arthur coughs and runs his hand through his hair, confused as fuck as to what was happening.
Ada stands up and walks closer to Tommy's desk “We have a sister? And she’s still in that orphanage after what you found out” she states, taking the folder from Tommy's hand as soon as he takes it out of the drawer in his desk. She shakes her head and walks back over to her seat.
Tommy pours himself a glass of whiskey “Me, Arthur and Polly are going back to the orphanage to get her” he explains.
Arthur frowns “We are? Linda wants me back for dinner” he explains, shifting from his left foot to his right foot, his body language showing he was nervous since he knew what his family thought of Linda.
Polly grumbles “ I’m sure she can wait” she states, her voice filled with venom as she looks towards Arthur “We are saving a little girl from abuse” She stands up and walks over to Arthur “Not just a little girl, your sister, a Shelby”.
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xpiredcheeto · 1 year
Text
Glass
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(Not my gif)
word count
Reader stays out late and comes home injured.
Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Arthur Shelby x sister reader, Ada Shelby x sister reader
Warnings: Blood, injuries, blood, death, killing, cursing, reader gets attacked, mentions of cocaine, Arthur is sad and needs a hug very bad, mentions of prostitution. I think that's all. 
This takes place during season 2
word count:  2395
 This whole situation could have been avoided if you had decided to call it an early night and ignored your burning desire to stay awake and go to some pub in the middle of the night, but of course, being a Shelby, you decided to go out. 
You walked down the cold and dark alleyway leading to the building. The outside walls were cracking, paint was peeling from its edges. Just the place you were looking for. It was called The Red Lion. You walked up the brick steps of the pub, and the click of your shoes echoed in your mind. The mahogany door had a stained glass window depicting a fisherman. You had no idea what a pub called "The Red Lion" was doing by having an image of a fisherman as their window, but maybe they got it on sale. 
It was far away from the watchful eyes of Small Heath, away from your reputation. It freed you in a certain way. Unfortunately, being away from the negatives of your reputation also meant you were away from the protection it brought with it. Normally this was not an issue, but tonight was different. When you walked into the pub, everything became silent at once. All heads in the bar turned to face you. Maybe you were not as far from your reputation as you thought you were.  
"You think she's a spy?" one man asked another 
The old floors creaked under your footsteps. You approached the bartender to ask for your usual when a voice from behind confronted you. "Yer not allowed in our pub, little girl. Why don't you run on home?" 
You made note of his voice, he was Irish and he spoke with a level of arrogance like no one had ever told him "no" in his life. 
"Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. I came here for a drink and I'm going to get it. If you would just leave me alone I could have my drink in peace and you won't have to worry about me."
You could tell by the look on his face that he didn't like the answer you had given him. his brows furrowed and his expression contorted into one of annoyance. 
"I asked you to leave and when I ask you to do something, you better do it. Now, this is your last chance to leave before something happens that you won't like." He was trying to scare you and it wasn't working. You were going to hold your ground until this strange man left you alone. 
  "Look, I just told you that I'm not leaving so why don't you just leave me alone-" you were cut off when two hands grasped your shoulders. They dragged you backward off your chair and onto the wooden flooring of the bar. You hit the ground with a bang and waves of pain radiated up and down your spine. You let out a hiss of pain and the hands grabbed you again. This time they angled you toward a glass table before you could process what had happened. Your body was thrown with such force you could not stop the trajectory of your body. You threw both arms out in front of your face to block the impact of the table. Suddenly, waves of white-hot, stinging pain punctured your forearms. Blood trickled down your arms as you looked up. There were two men before you, the one that confronted you earlier and another. His face was withered, and his expression bore a constant snarl as he looked down at you. 
"Are you two fucking insane?! That's the Shelby girl, her brothers will fucking kill all of us!" the bartender was seething with rage. His face was a glowing red color. You glanced back at the men, they looked scared now. 
You looked down at the floor, the brown wood now tainted red with your blood. You heard movement behind you, rushed and frantic, then the slamming of the front door. You looked back up at the bartender, he threw a dishtowel at you. "For the bleeding," he said. You held the dirty rag to your left arm, leaving the right to bleed all over your clothes. 
You limped to the door, turned the handle, and walked out. A rush of frigid air hit you, cooling the thick rivets of blood streaming from your arm. The walk home wasn't too long but the pain was making it seem so much longer. You looked down at your white blouse, patches were saturated with red blood. The way it stuck to your skin was revolting, partially dried, and sticky. The metallic stench was almost overwhelming if not for the pain coursing through your body. And, oh God, it hurt. It wasn't just the pain from your arms, your back still ached from the fall, and it made each step agony.   
You were approaching Small Heath now. The smell was normally the first thing that hit you, but not tonight, now the only thing you could think of was blood and glass. The shards still embedded into your arms made each movement painful. You could see the house now, you were so close.
You walked up to the door, twisted the handle, and pulled. Awaiting you in the kitchen was Ada. Her eyes shot up, "Do you know how worried I was-" she cut herself off. "Oh my God, Y/N, what happened? Come here     I'll patch you up." Her face was laced with concern. "Sit down, I'll get the bandages." She got up and move to the bathroom, you could hear her rummaging around in the cabinets. Glancing at your arms, you saw the rag was saturated with blood.
Behind you, you heard the door opening, then a loud gasp. It was Arthur. "Jesus Christ, who the fuck did this to you?" he was next to you now, looking at your arms. You responded, "I don't exactly know who it was. There were two of them, but I don't know what I did to upset them that much."
  Ada returned from the bathroom with her hands full of bandages and a pair of tweezers. Arthur looked relieved to see her. She acknowledged Arthur and started speaking "I found the bandages," she held up the pair of tweezers, "and these are for the glass." She sat down next to you. "How did this happen?" she asked again. 
"I got thrown through a table." You replied. Arthur let out a sigh of anger. Ada picked up her tweezers and looked up at your face. "This might hurt so prepare yourself." The tweezers grasped at a piece of glass and you let out a hiss. Arthur noticed and tried to calm you. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. The door opened once more. All three of you turned your heads, Tommy was standing in the doorway with a look of confusion burned onto his features.   He took a step towards you and spoke. "What the fuck happened?"  
"She got thrown through a fucking table, Tom," Arthur responded for you. 
"What the fuck do you mean she got thrown through a table?! Who the fuck threw her through a table?" You moved to answer but let out a pained gasp when Ada pulled one of the shards out. Arthur looked back at you and moved his hand to rub up and down your back. 
"I-oh fuck, I don't know who it was. They were Irish and in a pub called The Red Lion. I don't even know what I did to offend them so much." you spoke through gritted teeth.
Arthur looked at Tommy, they were going to trash the pub later and find the men that did this, but first, they needed to make sure you were going to be alright. Ada moved to another shard, this one came out easier than the last, but the pain was still significant. And, oh god, you were crying now. 
"This really fucking hurts." you sobbed out. Arthur responded to you, "I know, love. I swear I'm gonna kill everyone that hurts you. I-I'll fucking kill the people that did this." He looked like he was about to cry too. Ada looked up from her work to inform you she was almost done removing the glass, just one more to go. You looked at Tommy, he had moved and was now sitting on a chair across the kitchen. He shot Arthur a glance and said "Tomorrow, brother."
Ada was getting ready to pull the final one out now, it was located near your left wrist. At this point, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, the blood loss made you dizzy and lightheaded. She grasped it with her tweezers and pulled. Your eyes shot open and you let out a scream of pain. Arthur grabbed your right hand and rested his head on the corner of your neck. It was the closest he could get to hugging you at this moment.
"Alright love, the painful part is over, all I have to do now is wrap them up." Her voice always seemed to soothe you. She placed the edge of the bandage in your palm and wrapped it around a few times. She then moved it down to loop around your thumb before wrapping it around your forearm. She repeated the process on your other arm. You looked over at Tommy, he stared forward in a silent rage.
"I'm gonna go to bed now." You moved to get up. Tommy moved from his chair, "No, love, you shouldn't be walking. I'll carry you to bed, Alright?" You nodded and he walked over, he looped one arm under your knees and one beneath your back. He lifted you and carried you up the stairs, he pushed the door open with his side and laid you on the bed. He went to your dresser and grabbed a nightgown for you. He laid it on the bed for you to put on. He turned to leave the room, "Thank you." 
"You don't need to thank me, love." He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head before turning and leaving the room. You unbuttoned the now red blouse you were wearing and pulled it off, it dragged on your arms sending pain blooming through them. You let out a small hiss and let it drop to the floor. You reach down and slid your bottoms off, also leaving them on the floor. You pulled the nightgown over your head and down the rest of your body, you moved to get under the covers when you heard a knock at the door followed by a voice. You sat up. "Hello, can I come in? If you don't want me to that's fine... I just don't want you to be alone right now." It was Arthur.
"Yeah, come in."
The door opened with a creak and he walked over to you. He gently grabbed you in his arms and held you. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I...I don't ever want you getting hurt and I wish I was there so I could keep you safe." he paused. "Can I stay in here tonight, so I can make sure you're safe?" he looked at you, awaiting your response.
"Yes, Arthur, you can stay in here tonight." 
"Alright, love. I'll sit in the chair over there." He pointed to the chair across your room next to your fireplace. "No, Arthur. You can sleep in bed with me. I don't mind, I'd feel safer that way anyways." He looked surprised, but he walked over to your bed and slid in next to you. He adjusted his position next to you and said, "Alright, love, go to sleep now. You need your rest."  
He looped his arms around you in a protective hug. He held you tight to his chest as if you would disappear if he let go. "Please don't scare me like that again," he spoke as if he was still scared that you were seriously injured. "I don't know what id do if I lost you." his voice was breaking, and you could tell he was holding back tears. You could tell he wanted to say more, to tell you he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he wasn't there to keep you safe. He didn't tell you he would blame himself for the rest of his life if you died and how he already gets nightmares about that exact scenario. Instead, he held you tighter and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. You could feel his tears run down your shoulder like shiny pearls. You felt like crying too. 
"Oh, Arthur. I would never leave you like that. I'm so sorry I made you worry about me." You turned around so you could wrap your arms around him, wincing slightly when the sheets rubbed against the bandages. "It's alright, love. It's not your fault. It's those fucking men that hurt you. I'll find 'em, make sure they never hurt you again." 
"It's alright, Arthur. They can't hurt me now." You made your voice as soft as possible in an attempt to calm him. 
"I know, love. I know," he paused. "Just...If you want a drink, go to The Garrison. Won't be mad as long as you don't end up like me. Oh god, please don't end up like me... I'm sorry. I'm keeping you up. Go to sleep now, you need rest." 
"It's Okay, Arthur. You don't need to apologize, and you need to stop insulting yourself."  He nodded into your neck. You shut your eyes and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. You savored the feeling of protection that your brother gave you, it made you feel like you were safe from anything while you were in his arms. And you most likely were, he would do anything to keep you safe, even if that meant bashing someone's head in with a glass ashtray. Even if that meant killing fathers and sons, none of it was as important as keeping you safe. You drifted into the abyss of sleep in his arms, knowing that none of your fears would be able to harm you.
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