leeroysdancer

[leeroysdancer]

People who leave long detailed comments on fics and also quote their favorite lines: do u know how important u are? Do u know how deeply I cherish u? Do u know that there is nothing on this earth that I would not do for u?

[leeroysdancer]

my dance style ranges from white dad at a barbecue to stripper whose rent is due tomorrow

[leeroysdancer]

[leeroysdancer]

[leeroysdancer]

Just wanted to say something real quick.

If you request something and a writer writes your request, keep in mind that the writer would love to hear feedback from the one who requested it. You can stay anonymous if you were to begin with. Just come in our inbox and tell us what you thought about your request we wrote for you.

I don't mind writing requests but when you get no feedback from the person who requested it, it can be kind of irritating, beings I took my time to sit down and write what you so kindly sent.

[leeroysdancer]

(a request from @fastfan based off this beach scene and the lyrics 'don’t kill me just help me run away.')

It was eerie how still a beach could be when ocean waves never stopped moving. Still, some people would consider it more eerie how your eyes looked across the horizon as if you were waiting patiently for Death to take your hand and walk away with you.

Death approached you in the form of Thomas Shelby. He peered at you from under his cap. You heard the frustrated sigh from underneath his breath despite the wind slightly blowing up your coattails.

“You were easy to find,” Tommy greeted you. You said nothing back. Small beach waves still held your full attention. He cleared his throat. “I once told you, Y/N that this was going to end in one of two ways. Either with you by my side forever or at the end of my gun. And it seems, you don’t want to be with me. Not anymore.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You flinched when he pointed the barrel towards your face. Words erupted from you like a declaration of love.

“Please don’t kill me,” you said. “Just help me run away.”

“It’s a bit late for that,” Tommy told you. He kept the gun pointed at your head.

“You don’t understand.” You shook your head. Your breathing grew labored. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t hide the cracks anymore. Your lip quivered. “I really fucked up this time. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. I can’t—I need—I can’t be with you. Help me get away from here. That’s what I need.”

“What do you mean? What’s happened?” You heard the confusion in his voice. You looked up, closing your eyes. He didn’t know everything.

“They’re after me. These people, they’re worse than the Changrettas. They’re from Germany. It really doesn’t matter, I just need your help to get away from here—

“Y/N—

“I know you’re angry with me—

“Y/N, stop talking.”

“And if I had any choice here, I would have stayed. I wanted to. I wanted to so—

“Y/N, look at me!” Thomas shouted louder. Your eyes met his. Life returned to both of your eyes in a flash. Tears fell down the sides of your cheeks. His gaze softened on your face. He followed the tears falling down your cheek. He lowered the gun barrel, closing the space between you. His thumb brushed away another tear. Averting his face, you looked back to the ocean again. His thumb tucked under your chin, bringing you back to him. “Who are they? What do they want?”

“You can’t protect me.” You shook your head. “Not this time. It’s better if I stayed away. Just get me to America and I’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re not leaving me!” He screamed with a desperation you didn’t think he held for you. “I don’t want you to leave me alone. Tell me what to do. Tell me how I can protect you.”

“It’s impossible.”

“I’m Thomas Shelby,” he said. “The rules and laws of this world don’t apply to me. Or us.”

[leeroysdancer]

If requests are still open can you please do a yandere Thomas Shelby during season 1, where during Grace’s spying and trying to get closer to him, Tommy himself isn’t interested in getting closer to her, he instead see’s her as an obstacle and distraction as he’s trying to get closer to the reader whose a family friend he’s been trying to court for years. (You can decide how he deals with Grace because she’s “in the way”)

Thomas breathed hard on his knuckles as his fingers brushed along his lips. The more he concentrated, the sooner he would figure everything out. He knew he had all of the pieces. They were laid out right front of his nose. He counted them with his eyes.

The first piece was the IRA. If this sale of guns goes through smoothly and cleanly as possible, it still wouldn’t satisfy him. Something itched him about it. Thoughts continued to gnaw at him when he looked at Grace Burgess. The new barmaid that looked too educated, too refined to be here. Harry Fenton hired her. He told Thomas ‘she sings like she’s the heart of Galway herself’. She bothered him too. Just like the IRA. Something about Grace gnawed at him.

Then there was the last piece. You.

You were family. Actually, you were much more than that. Ever since the day Thomas Shelby tasted the whiskey on your mouth, he swore God existed in some capacity. Every time, he had the privilege of touching you. A brush of fingers, cheek-to-cheek dancing, a lingering embrace. You felt like heaven to touch. It had been a slow process over the past three years. Arthur and John knew you were off limits. Anyone employed under the Peaky Blinders knew you were off limits.

So, why was it that Grace felt the need to put herself between you and him? Why was it that when Billy Kimber almost raped you Grace came to your safety first? Why was it that Grace spent so much time with you? Was he jealous of a woman spending time with you? No, this was something else. Had to be.

Thomas looked between you and Grace, working and weaving in and out of each other at the pub. Like a braid. Intertwining. A hold.

Thomas’s eyes shot awake as if he woke up from a dream. The more he watched both of you weave in and out of each other, the more it became obvious now. It burned him. Anger grew hungry and his desperate thoughts turned to reality before his very eyes. Every smile or nod you put her way, she returned and studied and observed.

Thomas stayed past close that night. You grabbed his empty glass to clean. Thomas grabbed your wrist, watching Grace’s reaction. He pulled you closer, giving you an incredibly possessive kiss. You pulled back, flushed.

“Thomas! Grace’s right there,” you said, more embarrassed than he wanted.

“Go upstairs and find my watch,” he said. He shook his wrist at you. “Think I lost it up there. Took it off while I polishing it.” You nodded and left him alone with Grace. As she made to leave, Thomas stopped her. He kicked a chair towards her. In silence, she sat down.

“Have I done something, Mr. Shelby?”

“She’s nice, you know.” Thomas started. “I’ve known her since before the war. She’s one of those people that hasn’t been ruined by it. But, that’s her problem. She’s too nice. Do you know how many people think the same way you do?”

“I don’t understand—

“I don’t know how long you planned to keep up this charade,” Thomas interrupted her. “But I do know, I’ve played this game before. And I hate playing this game, Grace. Do you know why?” She shook her head. Thomas watched her shift in her seat. He noticed the way her hand moved into her jacket pocket. “I hate playing this game because I’m the best at it, Grace. That’s how many people have dared to get close to me through her. That’s how many boyfriends she’s lost, how many friends she’s lost, all because you all want me.”

Grace stayed silent. Her eyes darted to the door that led upstairs. Thomas waved his opposite wrist at her, showing off the watch he told you to find.

“Like I said, she’s very nice. And she belongs to me.” Thomas stood up, shoving his hands into his pockets. Grace stood from her chair. She looked to the back exit. “I really don’t appreciate when people lie to her. Or when people like you come into her life and put your claws into her and she gives you all of herself.”

“Mr. Shelby, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but—

“How long were you going to wait to turn her into Inspector Campbell?”

Grace’s hand wrapped around the door handle to the back exit. She jiggled and fussed with it. She started to pull at the locked handle until she saw Thomas’ reflection in the mirrored glass in front of her. As she turned, the razor blade cut into her throat. She immediately grabbed the wound with both of her hands, sliding down the wall. The more she coughed, the more blood escaped her.

Thomas secured his cap back on his head. He covered the blood on his collar by closing his jacket. He leaned down to Grace’s ear.

“You could’ve gotten away with it if you’d stayed out of my way,” he told her. “But that was your problem. You were like everyone else. And she will forget you just like everyone else.” Thomas left her there as he moved towards the base of the stairs. He called for you, apologizing that he actually misplaced his watch behind the bar, and then you left together.

“Oh! Did Grace go home? I didn’t see her leave.” You said.

“Don’t be mad,” Thomas said.

“What?” Your shoulders dropped.

“Grace quit,” Thomas said. He grabbed your pouting face. “Don’t worry! One day, you won’t have to work there anymore! I promise. All part of my big plan, darling.” Thomas stared at your fingers. His mind flipped between engagement rings and craving his name into your knuckles.

[leeroysdancer]

His hand ran up your sides, finding their way around you. He seemed to know what he was doing. Then again, you weren’t a pretty little maiden either. Thomas Shelby gripped your thighs, holding onto them. It didn’t matter whether you were on top or bottom. He still wanted control. His grip tightened as he moved your hips for you on top of him.

You let out a frustrated breath. Gripping his hand with your own, you slowed your pace purposely. His wild eyes set onto you. His silent communication worked. You knew what he wanted, but you felt selfish.

“Take your time with me, or we stop now,” you said.

“You think you can tell me what to do?” Thomas looked up to you. His half-dead eyes filled with the kind of mirth you only saw in bastards. “Do you know who I am?”

The words struck a nerve deep inside you. It wasn’t a question. It was a challenge. Your hands slid around his throat, squeezing the sides of it. His gaze awakened in a slight panic. One his hands gripped your wrist.

“Y/N—

“I’m sorry,” you purred, squeezing harder. “Do I need to remind you who’s really in charge?” Thomas struggled for air underneath you as you rocked your hips slower. Thomas’s eyes widened on you, and in that moment you praised yourself for making a godless man into a man who looked at you like an angel. He moaned, gasping for air. You let yourself enjoy both pleasures.

The first was riding him. The second was punishing him for thinking he could tell you what to do.

“Good boys do what they’re told, Tommy,” you chuckled darkly. “Fuck me like you mean it. And be nice.” Thomas’ hands returned to your sides, gently letting you guide how fast to go.

[leeroysdancer]

You were born violent. That’s why your father tied your hands behind your back and your brother covered your mouth with his hand. Teeth dug into his flesh, pulling at it. Your brother cried out in pain. He pulled his fist back, but your father’s words stopped him.

“Don’t! We need to keep ‘er pretty for Tommy Shelby,” he shouted. When your family’s fleet of cars and horses pulled up the same off-the-road secluded spot in the middle of the woods, you stomach churned. God blessed you with feet. You could run. A wedding dress was still a dress, and women like you knew how to run in anything.

Your father pulled at the back of your head. His ash-scented mouth dangerously close to your face. If you were an animal, you’d growl at him.

“I’ve got three men out ‘ere with a gun trained to your little ‘ead. Run, fight, spit, do anything at all, and I’ll end it.”

“Funny, didn’t you just say I needed to be pretty for Tommy Shelby? Can’t be pretty if my head’s blown in,” you spat in his face. He wiped away the thick saliva off his cheek.

“I’m getting rid of you today, you bitch,” he said. Bitch. Whore. Just another cursed name that an insecure, rotten man called a woman when he wanted to feel powerful. Not like Thomas Shelby. As you walked towards him, he didn’t need demeaning words. Everything was in his face. His dead eyes looked over you as if he could see the sin in you. His suit was more expensive than your dress. His grimace held no emotion.

He was power. After thirty minutes of exchanged words, forced tears, and a chaste kiss, you were now married into power.

His car purred as it drove back into the city. His wedding gift to you sat in your lap. A small, black kitten wriggled and tried out its tiny claws on you.

“I’ve heard its good luck to gift your wife a cat, it means success and good fortune for the home.” His first words to you were ones of an old wives’ tale.

“How do you know I’ll be a good wife?” you challenged. “My brother already told you I’m wretched.”

“If I wanted a boring wife, I would’ve married one.”

“So, you chose to marry me?”

“I did,” he said as simple as fact. You raised your brow.

“Why?”

Thomas smirked at you. “Rumor has it that your family, the Kimbers, are seeking to betray all of their allies in one move. So, I thought pick the prettiest one and fuck her. Then, your father told me about what happened between you, your uncles, and Billy. Then, I decided to marry you instead.”

“You wanted to marry the girl who murdered her uncles with an axe? Your enemy?”

“No, not my enemy,” Thomas grabbed your hand. “My wife, the greatest Kimber murderer in the Shelby family. If anyone’s going to end their family and rise to power, it should be you, love.”

[leeroysdancer]

Coud you possibly do a part 2 imagine of Michael Gray and Thomas Shelby fighting over who gets dibs on you ! 😙

(Part One of this post here.)

The cold bit at your cheeks when you opened the door to the Shelby Parlor. Few buzzed around the illegal betting shop, but you had no interest in gambling. Thomas looked up from his task. Through his glasses, his eyes locked onto you. It made your chest heavy, having his full attention on you. With two curling fingers, he beckoned you to his office.

You walked in, setting down a bundle of money wrapped in paper. “Here’s the rent,” you said. “My father sends his gratitude. He really appreciates the protection and the business.”

“I’m glad,” Thomas said. “Send him my thanks as well. Without that restaurant, we wouldn’t have a place to put the guns.” You nodded politely, turning to leave. A chair dragged along the ground behind you. A hand shot out from behind you, closing the door in front of you. You turned to come face-to-face with the Head Shelby. His hand laid flat against the door, trapping you inside his office.

“Mr. Shelby?”

“Call me, Tommy.” He said. He didn’t need to touch you because his eyes did all of the work. Not even Michael held this kind of power. Your chest started working harder.

“Tommy, is there anything I can do for you?”

“Why him?”

“Hm? Him?” You started to shake your head in confusion. Tommy tilted your chin towards your left. Through the glass window, Michael Gray lingered outside. The cold bit at his cheeks too, flushing them a darker pink. Smoke wafted around him.

“I couldn’t figure it out,” Tommy continued. Michael Gray left the view from the window. Your eyes connected with Tommy’s. The back of his fingers ran down your middle from neck to chest to stomach. “I’m richer. I’m more powerful. I have more experience.”

“Experience?” Your mouth went dry of any more words. Tommy closed the space between the both of you. His hand ran down one side of you. He hooked one finger in your necklace and pulled just enough. The heat from his mouth warmed your ear.

“You’re shivering, Y/N,” he said. He hummed, showing you exactly where you were shivering. It began at the top of your spine and ended when Tommy’s hand slipped under your jacket and around your back, catching the shiver he caused. His thumb ran along your bottom lip before he kissed you. Guilt was the first feeling that came to mind.

You heard Michael’s voice just outside the office door. It wasn’t any official, but it was something. This wasn’t cheating. Michael never said you were his. Then again, you didn’t melt in Michael’s arms like this. Tommy moved his mouth against yours with more force, earning him a moan from your mouth.

A knock sounded off on the office door.

Tommy pushed the limits further. He pulled his mouth from yours and nipped your neck enough to leave a mark and leave you wanting. He pulled you away from the door, opening it to reveal his cousin just behind.

Michael smiled when he saw Tommy, but he frowned when saw you. Your eyes averted from his. It was too late. You couldn’t hide your heavy breathing. Or your open collar and jacket. Your lips were a bit too swollen for you to claim it was too cold outside. You pushed past them both, with a small apology on your lips. You were outside of the Shelby Parlor in seconds, running back to your home.

Michael narrowed his glare on Tommy. Tommy sat behind his desk without an ounce of care in the world. Michael slightly shook his head. His jaw set.

“You have to have everything, don’t you?” Michael said with a low tone. “Leave her alone. She’s mine. Is that clear?”

Tommy looked up at Michael through his glasses. “You don’t tell me what to do. Nobody does.”

[leeroysdancer]

Thomas backed you into the wall. When your back hit it, your breath hitched. His eyes followed the lines of your mouth. His rough voice cut into you.

“You belong to me.” Thomas’ thumb pressed against your throat. He dragged it up, forcing you to look at him in his eyes. “Do not argue with me. Don’t push me. You are mine. Period.” Thomas covered your mouth with his own. His mouth moved against you, trapping your words inside your mouth. He had always been rough, but now it felt desperate. Your hands grabbed onto his shirt to keep yourself steady.

When you pulled away, you started to argue. “But, Tommy—

“Shut up,” Thomas kissed you again. His hands ran up your sides. He pulled away this time. You wished you could curse him for leaving you this breathless. “I told you, don’t argue with me.”

Thomas cupped his hands around your face, pulling you to him again. Two, intense kisses wasn’t enough for him. He wanted more. He always wanted more. He moaned into your mouth before he moved onto your neck. His teeth pulled at your skin. You whimpered, beginning to feel overwhelmed by him. His hand reached up between your legs. His hand rested on your mound.

“Remember what you did last month?” Thomas asked. You nodded your head. “Good. I want you to do that again.”

[leeroysdancer]

[Part One Here]

You admitted lying to Michael wasn’t so easy. These English men had a way of looking at you that cut you apart in a way. You just assumed that English men were smarter than their American counterparts. A little truth spilled out of you as you left Michael’s apartment.

“Just tell Tommy to not look for me anymore.” You shook your head. You bit your lips down hard to combat any tears. Your makeup was too expensive and Tommy wasn’t worth it.

“What do you mean?” Michael stepped towards you.

“Don’t. This—he and me—it’s not going to work out. I’m done here. I’m sorry. I have to go.” You closed the door behind you. You raced down the stairs, thinking Tommy was already hot on your trail. It helped that he knew very little about your hometown. Your city. New York could hide anybody if they tried hard enough. Hell, it hid demons, monsters, and sinners alike. Why not you?

It took you a week to get things in order. You took your share of the Shelby money you helped earn and cashed it all out. You had to use your brother’s name, but you didn’t think he would mind, he was already dead. You cut your ties with the Changrettas. It was stupid enough to play double agent for Thomas in the first place. The sooner you could leave safely, the better.

As you returned to your brother’s home, the light switch flickered on. Thomas Shelby made himself comfortable in a chair facing the front door. His eyes narrowed on you. You took a few steps back, backing yourself into the wall.

“Tommy! What’re doing here? How did you—

“It wasn’t hard,” he shrugged. “All I had to do was explain to the bank that you were getting married soon. To me. They handed over everything I wanted especially since it belongs to me now.”

“What?”

Thomas stood up. He took careful steps towards you. “Your share, your brother’s account, this address. All of it is mine. Just like you.” His fingers cupped your face tightly. “Did you think I would let you go so easily?”

“Tommy—the Changrettas,” you said.

“You don’t belong to them.” His breath hot on your cheek. “You’re not slipping away from me again. I own you now.”

“I thought you said you weren’t taking me back to England with you.” You wanted to cut into him. You wanted it to hurt. The weight of his gaze made it harder to breathe.

“Is that what think? That I don’t care?”

“You said it before. Nothing matters.”

“This does.” The words sent fire into your belly. You were more alert than ever. Thomas brought his mouth to yours for a moment. He was aggressive, taking all breath from you before your lips parted. “You and I are the only things that matter.”

[leeroysdancer]

If you are taking requests can you please do a tommy x american reader imagine where he is dating a Southern girl and she loses her temper on one of the Shelby brothers if not I understand

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you yelled. You were hot. Your face flushed red while your knuckles itched to punch the next man who spoke a word to you. Your neck tensed into something so stiff that you were certain you needed a doctor to crack your neck. You took an unopened bottle of Shelby Whiskey right off the table without asking.

You tossed the bottle back, feeling the burn of the drink numbing you. It was easier to take than the news you just heard. When you opened your eyes, you saw Thomas Shelby looking at you.

“What are you looking at?” you yelled at him.

“Don’t you fucking talk to him like that,” Arthur began to quarrel with you. A screaming match ignited between you, Arthur, and John as quickly as bullets fired from a gun.

Thomas watched you from where he sat. He thought that a quiet girl would calm the storms in his head. At least, all the English and Irish girls he liked quieted the nightmares. Not you. American girls had a fire that ignited something terrible inside Tommy. All he needed was one, well-thought out, easy-peasy bank robbery.

He remembered your face as both of you got away with a shit ton of money. Your wicked smile turned into a laughter that made him believe in the Devil. God didn’t take his time on you. The Devil did. Only hell could carve a smirk like yours. All of Tommy’s life, he strived and toed the line to become a legitimate businessman. He was going to do things right. He was going to settle down and live an easy life.

He listened to the southern drawl in your voice. How it sounded so wild in his ears. How his mind quickly thought of how you sound in his bed.

“Fuck you, Arthur!” you shouted. Thomas Shelby hungered to hear his name yelled at him like that. Now, he understood what Polly meant by the temptations of the Devil. Thomas would commit every single sin against God for an opportunity to have all of you. He knew you were married before. That love burned differently in your chest since your husband died of sickness.

He knew you were broken like him.

Maybe it was the drawl. Maybe it was the death wish you carried. Maybe it was the Devil calling out to him.

You threw a glass against the wall, it shattered to pieces. “I’m not a fucking Peaky Blinder! And this isn’t Birmingham! It’s America, you crooked toothed fuck.” After Arthur insulted you, you swung a pan at him. It smacked across his face, sending him to the ground. You looked Thomas’ way again.

“We’re doing this my way now.” You said. Thomas Shelby’s heart stopped for a moment. That was the last straw. He allowed himself to give into the Devil now. He stayed sitting in his seat, but he wanted to submit himself on his knees before you.

“As you wish,” Thomas Shelby gave in.

[leeroysdancer]

Please can I request a thomas shelby imagine where he finds it funny to tease you about belonging to him, until he finds out that you're supposed to be going on a date with someone else? Thanks so much :)

He found himself smiling before he could get the words out. Thomas thought of it when he smoked his last cigarette and decided he had nothing better to do. The bell to the shop’s door rang as he walked through.

You smoothed out the fabric you were using to make yourself a new dress. Pale blue was a new look for you, but you were determined to make it your color. You heard Thomas step into the room behind you.

“Can I help you?” you said, still carrying on with the task at hand.

“Blue? For Ada?” Thomas started. “I thought she hated blue.”

“She does. This is for me,” you corrected him.

“Or is this for me? For later?” Thomas said. “You don’t have to wear anything fancy for me. Unless you want me to ruin all of your dresses.” He couldn’t help himself. The same cheeky smile returned to his lips. His fingers brushed against the fabric as if he gave himself a preview of what’s to come.

Not thinking of what your laugh does to Tommy, you chuckled at his comment. Not all the way there, but it gave Tommy hope. He tried again.

“I assume this is what you’re wearing to the races in three weeks,” he sounded it as a question, but kept going. “It’s easier to keep track of you in red, but I should let you wear other colors from time to time, hm?” This time you didn’t laugh.

“I told you I’m not going to the races,” you said. You pinned more fabric to the mannequin.

“Of course you are, you’re my date. It’s business.”

“No, Tommy. I told you. I was going to Ada’s and then I have to get ready for my date.” You snapped your mouth shut. Oh no, you said it. Date.

Your eyes focused on Thomas. His mouth went slightly ajar while his eyes narrowed on you like a target. You said you were going on a date…with someone else.

“It’s my father,” you held your hands up. “He told me he’s getting older. He wants to see me settle down. He set me up with a good man he knows. He wanted to take me out proper, so we made the date three weeks in advance. He’s going to take me dancing. I thought I would make this for me, not you.”

Thomas left your tailor’s shop with a sharp nod and an understanding. Thomas wasn’t a funny man, but he liked to tease and joke with you. You made him forget the voices in the walls and replaced them with your laughter. As Thomas walked towards the Garrison, he made a note to himself.

He wasn’t a good man, and he was selfish. Thomas promised to take every good man away from you until there was only him left.

[leeroysdancer]

How about one about Grace making a proposal to you to spend some time with Tommy to spice up their relationship, since she knows that Tommy had always had more of a thing for you than her. Pls

Grace Shelby was one of the more interesting masters you served under. After ten years of being a maid, you considered yourself an expert in dealing with your masters and their families. Nothing prepared you for Grace sitting across from you now as she handed you a drink she made for you.

“I know how unusual this all sounds,” she smiled. “Think of this request as spending more time with us as our friend.”

“Am I the first friend of the Shelby’s?” you asked, taking a sip of the gin. “Were there others?” Grace shook her head.

“No, you would be the first,” Grace explained. “I’ve never thought I would be in this situation either. Truthfully, Thomas eyed you from your first day here.” You felt a flush creep past your collar.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I never meant to seem promiscuous especially towards your husband.” Your face fell into your hands. What have you done? Were you tearing apart this family?

Grace’s hands relaxed your shoulders. She had a firm, but nurturing touch. Her voice was warm and she smelled of vanilla. Her presence behind you increased when she spoke in your ear.

“Never apologize for how a man looks at you,” she said. “I understand why Thomas’ eyes you because I find myself doing the same thing most days.”

[leeroysdancer]

Pls when you can, how about one where your affair with Tommy Shelby causes your pregnancy, so he shows up to you and your husbands house to visit you, and secretly being smug about it.

You snacked on granola while your husband showed Thomas Shelby around your home for the first time. But that was the problem. This was not Thomas Shelby’s first time in your home. In fact, sometime three months ago you lost count how many times Thomas came to “visit” you.

He wore a very smug smile during the tour. While your husband showed off his military memorabilia, Thomas’ eyes studied your growing stomach. You were very certain, your unborn child was a Shelby.

You and your husband hadn’t been intimate in a year and a half. It wasn’t abusive or angry. He never loved you. He married you for your money and status. Still, he happily took credit for a baby that clearly was not his.

“And this is where the nursery shall be!” your husband said aloud. Thomas hummed in response. He fucking hated your husband.

Thomas quickly learned he underestimated people when he came to London. He had heard your husband was the right hand man in getting key people in political office. Now, all his ego went to his head, he was useless. Just a man who used his friends and possessions to claim he was a bigger man than what he really was.

You, whose father raised you to be smarter than average men, intrigued Thomas Shelby. You spent extraordinary amounts of time in libraries and museums. At first, Thomas underestimated you, thinking you were another bored housewife in wanting of a good fuck.

It’s called the Diamond Railroad. Thomas learned of it one evening when you cried over lost Chinese diamond earrings. They had travelled so far away from their true home: China. You, among a network of artists, curators, librarians, and others, had a secret network to return ‘lost’ or ‘stolen’ heirlooms to their homes.

Thomas listened to your Egyptian artifacts stories all night long.

There was something awfully beautiful about a person who helped memories and treasures come home. That’s what Thomas thought. He spent a day and a half thinking about finally bringing you and his unborn child home to him. For now, he continued to listen to your fucking husband explain how a polished shovel was used during the war.

“I’m guessing these soldiers weren’t the bright ones. They had them dig tunnels using shovels like these.” Thomas kept smiling. He fucking knew how to use a damn shovel. He took another sip of gin.

“Can I tell you two secrets?” Thomas asked, speaking loud enough so you can hear him from the next room.

“Oh? About your time in war?” your husband reacted, excited to hear whatever Mr. Shelby was going to say. You sat at the edge of your seat.

Thomas took Polly’s advice today. She liked stirring the pot with rich people. Thomas leaned into your husband’s space.

“Sometimes tunnelers used their hands when shovels broke, and two, I know that’s not your baby. Because it’s mine.”

[leeroysdancer]

If requests are still open can you please do one about when the Shelby’s surprised you with a new house, based off of the one you wrote “Watching the Shelby children and them warning the Peaky Blinders that they can’t have you”

(First part here)

John Shelby fell for you first. It was before Martha. Both of you were only thirteen when John sloppily kissed you in Uncle Charlie’s yard. It was before the war when things weren’t so bad, but things could have been better. How many times would Polly Gray feed you at her table because she wasn’t sure if you were being fed at home?

After the war, it was Arthur. You lost your older brother due to suicide. Like Arthur, he drank to get rid of the demons inside of his head. Your growing relationship with Arthur only resulted in heartbreak. You wanted to fix Arthur. Arthur couldn’t even form a good thought. You stayed with Ada when Arthur pulled at your hair and screamed at you.

The Shelby family decided you had been through enough. Ada, Polly, and John watched what happened between you and Arthur. Thomas was unlucky enough to fall for you too.

Every time you had a doubt about Arthur, Thomas listened. When your hand would brush by his or when you straightened out his tie, Thomas resisted. He couldn’t have you, not now. He chalked it up to bad timing and attempted to move on.

Until he had an idea.

The country home would serve useful to Thomas in several ways. He took you on a tour, explaining a few things.

“You’ll live here, but it belongs to us. The family. We may come and go as we please,” Thomas looked to you for confirmation.

“And if I need to be alone?” you traced the colored glass window in the kitchen.

“Then you’ll be alone. Just say the word and no one will bother you.”

“That’s two rules, Tommy.”

“Don’t go to the attic. I’m keeping valuables in there. If the police come, don’t answer unless I’m here. If anyone else bothers you, you tell me.”

“Am I allowed to have guests?” you asked.

“Ada and Polly can visit you whenever you’d like.”

“And other gentlemen?” The question cut into Thomas. He sharply inhaled from his cigarette and exhaled the smoke. It took over the room as if Thomas marked the house as his. Your hands were warm on his face. You smelled of cinnamon and coffee, much different than the smell of the Garrison. Thomas found it hard to focus on anything else.

“Thomas—

His attention snapped back to the conversation. You smoothed his shoulders.

“Thomas, I was speaking about Uncle Charlie and my uncles. My heart’s too broken for anyone else.”

“I know,” Thomas felt several weights lift off his shoulders. “Mine too.”