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americancowgirl19 · 3 years

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Tommy’s Little Girl

Summary: You’re the most precious thing to Thomas Shelby. So, when a guy comes into your life he isn’t the most supportive.

Warnings: fluff, angst, cursing

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader, Reader x Male Character (H/n = His name, he can be whoever you want)

Word Count: 5,261

A/n: This was a request by an anon - Please can I request that Tommy Shelby’s daughter becomes engaged to a man behind his back and he refuses to acknowledge the engagement while the rest of the family do. After six months, just before the wedding, Tommy finally comes around to the idea... So, I added a few things to this request, I hope you still like it! I was just going to do the scene that the anon requested but I personally love writing who stories and backgrounds and shit so you get to see an entire life at Tommy’s daughter with the request included! Oh, and John doesn’t die cause fuck that.

Masterlist

You were the ultimate daddy’s girl. From the moment you were born you and your father were inseparable. The only thing that tore you apart was the war. You were barely two years old when he went off to serve his country.

When he left he entrusted Polly to look after you. Of course she treated you as if you were her own. She protected you as fiercely as she protected your father, uncles and aunt. Especially when your Aunt Kitty, Kitty Jurossi, showed up demanding that you were to go with her.

Kitty is your mother’s sister. She never approved of Greta being with Tommy. While Tommy taking care of Greta in her final days and loving her as he did was honorable, Kitty knew what kind of man he is. She knew what kind of family he had, what kind of business he partook in. She didn’t want you around them.

Polly always thought it was amusing how Kitty waited until Tommy was out of country to try and collect you. Kitty wrongfully assumed that Polly would just hand you over. Your mother’s sister was lucky she was able to return to her home with her life, especially when she tried to forcefully take you.

You remembered that day very vaguely. You don’t remember what happened but you remembered the yelling, someone grabbing you painfully and how scared you were. Your father had just left you for the longest time in your life and now this woman was trying to take you from the person you considered your mother.

The years without your father were long and unmemorable. When he finally returned home you were five going on six. You waited on the train platform with Polly, Ada and Finn. Polly kept a tight hold on you as the soldiers came off the train and went to their families.

You tried to find him but you were far too short and all of them were wearing the same uniform and cap. You jumped in your spot just itching to run into his arms. It didn’t matter that you didn’t really remember specific details of him. You remembered the feeling you had with him. You remembered being safe and happy with him. You remembered being sad and lonely without him. You’d rather be safe and happy than the other part.

“There they are!” Ada shouts. Your head darts to where she was pointing. When you spotted him not even Polly was able to hold you back.

You remember him shoving his way through the others to get to you. When you were close he dropped to his knees and pulled you into his arms. You clung to him.

Then, just like before he left, the two of you were inseparable once again. The only time you weren’t together was when you were sleeping (although on rough nights you often found your way in his bed) or when he had dangerous Peaky business.

You were the Shelby princess. You were untouchable. You didn’t figure out how much you could get away with until you were older. You could murder his best friend - not that you ever killed anyone - and the longest he’d stay mad at you would be a few hours, a day at most.

Anything you wanted was yours. You were spoiled but you were also kind and generous. You had bratty streaks but who didn’t? You may have been the light of your father’s life but you were John’s partner in crime. Whenever his own kids got too much or he wanted to pick on his brother’s you were the one he came too.

As much as he did truly enjoy spending time with you, John also knew that with you by his side he wouldn’t get into as much trouble as he would without you. All you had to do was give your pretty little smile and bat those eyelashes and Tommy was wrapped around your finger.

Even when your siblings came into the world you were number one. You didn’t exactly like Charlie, not Grace, at first. They stole your father’s attention, something you weren’t used to sharing. Eventually you warmed up to them.

You were sad when Grace died but not nearly to the extreme as your father. His heart break broke your own heart. You felt as if nothing you did eased his pain. In reality, you were the one person keeping him from completely spiraling. He spiraled but just being with you managed to slowly bring him back.

You were a little more welcoming toward Lizzie and then Ruby. By the time Ruby came around you adored Charlie. Ruby quickly wiggled her way into your heart. You became fiercely protective of them. You helped Lizzie with them when Tommy got too busy. When you needed a break you joined your father to the office and he would continue explaining what he did.

To you, life was perfect. You had everything you needed and everything you wanted. Tommy kept you in the business just enough to satisfy you but not enough to put you directly in danger. You didn’t understand a lot of the politics and drama within the family but to you it didn’t matter. You had your family, you had your fun, and life was great.

Then, as you were creeping up on your mid-twenties, you met the man you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. You were in the market with Lizzie, Polly, and Ruby. You had wandered a bit from the others. There was some jewelry you were looking at when he came over.

He was tall, muscular, and extremely handsome. He had a boyish smile and a flirtatious personality. It didn’t take you long to also figure out that he was clumsy and adorable. You were instantly hooked.

You two talked (flirted) for longer than you thought. Before you knew it Polly, Lizzie and Ruby were rejoining you. Polly was weary of him but it was obvious that he quickly won Lizzie over.

Much to your displeasure, once the three of them showed up you were quickly whisked away from him. Polly had said it was time to go and not many people were brave enough to argue with her.

Even on the way home you thought about him. You hoped that you would see him again but you figured it was unlikely.

Word got around about you meeting Mr. Handsome at the market. Your uncles teased you and Ada interrogated you. Your father was oddly quiet on the other hand. He didn’t want to talk about it, so he didn’t. He just hoped that your paths wouldn’t cross again.

Tommy knew you were getting older but that didn’t mean he liked it. He wanted you to stay his little girl for a while longer. He wished you were still small enough to ride on his shoulders and small enough for him to engulf you in his arms. But you were growing into a beautiful young lady. Whether he liked it or not other men were bound to recognize your beauty and seek you out. He had been lucky, for the most part, about your disinterest in dating, but it wasn’t going to last.

Most of the women your age were already married with at least one child. You were content by yourself. You were gaining responsibilities with the business and being your father’s personal helper. Even though you were content you wanted more. You wanted your own family to come home to with your own kids.

Fortunately, for Tommy, you wouldn’t see the boy from the market for quite some time. It had been so long you had forgotten about him. Until suddenly he showed back up.

The Shelby’s were having a night at the fights. You were enjoying yourself. You didn’t get dolled up often but when you did you went all out. You felt beautiful thus making you feel confident. On top of that, everyone knew exactly who you were which meant heads turned in your direction everywhere you went. You felt important, untouchable.

You sat with your aunt Ada, Aunt Polly, and step mother Lizzie. The three of you were talking amongst yourselves while the boys hollered at the match in front of them. When the fighters changed out you happened to look up and there he was.

Ada had been talking to you but you suddenly stopped listening. He was bigger, more muscular, than you remember. He didn’t seem as clumsy anymore yet he was just as handsome.

“Y/n,” Ada shouts over the crowd.

“Oh, will you look at that,” Lizzie states looking at who you were staring at.

“Who’s he?” Ada questions. Lizzie reminds her about the guy from the market you had met over a year prior. You continued to ignore them.

Right before the match started his eyes connected with yours. He obviously recognized you. He sent you the same boyish smile he had in the market causing a light blush to come to your cheeks. He bravely sent you a wink before focusing on the fight.

Your eyes remained glued on him with Tommy’s eyes started at you. He had noticed the interaction and didn’t like it in the slightest.

When the match ended, with his unfortunate loss, you excused yourself to the loo. You weren’t fooling anybody. Everyone who paid attention knew where you were going and Tommy had half a mind to stop you when something grabbed his attention. The split second his attention was off of you gave you the time you needed to disappear into the crowd.

“H/n,” You say, standing in the doorway of the locker room. You were slightly nervous - a lot nervous - but you weren’t 100% sober so that helped. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice.

“Y/n,” He says, turning away from his locker and toward you. “Shelby,” He adds. You hadn’t told him who you were. It was obvious he hadn’t known back then and you wanted to keep it that way.

“In the flesh,” You gave him a twirl. “You fought well tonight,”

“I lost,” He deadpanned but didn’t look all that bothered by it..

“Caught me attention,” You told him.

“Guess it wasn’t a complete loss then, aye?” He smirks. “How about you make me a winner tonight and agree to a date?” You blushed.

“I can do that,” You agreed.

From there your relationship blossomed. The two of you fell for each other quickly. He started showing up around the family more. Your uncles hazed him, Ada and Polly constantly interrogated him, and your father silently judged him. No matter how hard you or H/n tried, your father never came around.

H/n didn’t care about Tommy’s disapproval of him. He loved you with all his heart and nobody was going to keep you from him. He may be funny, charismatic and handsome but he knew he was selfish with a side of possessive. In his mind, you were his and he wasn’t letting you go. He would do anything to keep you and to keep you happy.

It honestly was no surprise that less than a year later the two of you were engaged. He had taken you out on a picnic under the stars on a beach. You had dinner, went swimming and had a fire in the sand. While stargazing he proposed with a beautiful ring. You didn’t hesitate to say yes.

The next day, as you two were makin breakfast, you asked how your father handled him asking for permission when H/n told you he never asked. It shocked you that H/n didn’t talk to Tommy first. You knew when it came to your father H/n was a little rebellious but this was different. Honestly, you were a bit upset he didn’t speak with Tommy first.

It hadn’t even been twenty four hours since your engagement and the two of you were thrown into a fight. A minor one but a fight nonetheless. He didn’t see why it mattered seeing as the two of you were getting married with or without his permission. You argued that it wasn’t his permission you were looking for but your blessing. H/n didn’t understand just how close you and Tommy are but you wished he would at least respect it.

Eventually, he apologized when he finally noticed just how important Tommy’s approval meant to you. You promised H/n that you would marry him no matter what but keeping it from your father was not an option. H/n promised to talk to him.

A few days passed and then a week. H/n still didn’t talk to Tommy. You were fed up and decided to do it yourself. When you arrived at the Arrow House all you found were Lizzie and Ruby.

Ruby instantly spotted the ring. You desperately wanted to talk to Tommy first but since you weren’t getting passed you sister not Lizzie you conceded.

“So, when did he pop the question?” Ruby asked.

“About two weeks ago,” You answered, a large smile on your face. “He asked me on the beach under the stars,” Ruby swooned but Lizzie didn’t seem to be paying attention anymore. You looked at her. You tensed noticing her looking behind you. Slowly, you turned around and saw your father standing there.

His eyes stare into your eyes and for the first time in your life you can’t figure out what he was thinking. He seemed emotionless but you couldn’t tell if the look in his eyes was anger or disappointment. His eyes glanced down at your hand, at your ring.

“Dad, I-” You didn’t get a chance to explain. He turned around and walked out of the house. You were shocked. He never did that to you. He always let you speak no matter what he was feeling. When you snapped out of it you quickly went after him but he was already in the car driving down the road. “Dad! Wait, please!” But he just keeps driving.

“He’ll come around,” Ruby tries to comfort but her words just go in one ear and right out the other.

For weeks your father avoided you like the plague. You walked into a room, he walked out. You tried to talk, he talked over you. You tried to get his attention, he ignored you. You tried for over a month before deciding to give him some space and focus on planning your wedding.

With the help of Ada, Ruby, Polly, and Esme you planned the wedding. Every day you got a step closer to the date. Every day you got more excited. Yet one thing continued to dampen your mood.

“Y/n, come in,” Esme greets, stepping aside to let you into her home.

“Is John here? I want to talk to him,” You say, fiddling with your fingers nervously. Esme smiles kindly and nods.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll fetch him,” She suggests before disappearing into the house. You walk into the parlor. You smile and play with your cousins for a bit before John finally joins you.

“I wanted to ask you something,” You say after he shoos the kids away. He gives you his attention. You take in a deep breath as tears mist over your eyes. He looks more concerned by the second. “I was wondering if you... would walk me down the aisle,” John frowns his eyebrows.

“You want me?” He asks, shocked. “What about Tom-”

“He hasn’t spoken to me for months,” You snap, struggling to keep your tears from falling. “He can hardly look at me or stand to be in the same room. I think it’s safe to say he’s not coming,” You try to sound angry but curse silently when your voice grows more shaky. John sighs.

“Come here, sweetheart,” He opens his arms and you quickly close the distance between the two of you. He holds you tightly as you cry in his chest. “Tommy’s being a right arse at the moment, everyone knows that,” He mutters. “But nothing in the world is going to stop him from walking you down that aisle,”

“H/n being at the end of it might,” You mutter. John laughs quietly.

“Love, if Tommy really hated H/n, he would be dead by now,” John says truthfully. You see the logic in his statement but it hardly lifts your spirits.

“The wedding is in two weeks,” You whisper. “He hasn’t budged yet,”

“I want you to do something for me,” John says, pulling back just enough to look at your face and wipe your tears. “I want you to think through your entire life and tell me a time where you didn’t get your way with Tommy,” John challenges. “I’m not even going to wait because it never bloody happened,” You smile a bit. “Now, this has been the longest you’ve had to wait for him to come around but trust me, he is incapable of not doing what you want,”

“Will you still be on standby?” You ask him. He smirks and kisses your forehead.

“Of course,” He whispers. “Bloody hell, has anyone said no to you before?” He asks, smirking as he steps away from you.

“What can I say? I’m everyone’s sweetheart,” You smile. John rolls his eyes and offers for you to stay for dinner, which you accept.

When you returned home you noticed H/n was home as well. You had moved out of Arrow house before the engagement, something your father strongly disagreed with.

When you walked inside, H/n was waiting up for you. You hadn’t meant to be home so late. It’s just when you’re with John and his kids they just make the time fly by. Luckily, H/n didn’t seem upset just tired.

“Come here,” He mutters, opening his arms. You smile and settle in his lap enjoying the feeling of his thick arms wrapped around your body. “Were you at Arrow House?” He asks.

“No, I went to see Uncle John,” You tell him. He hums curiously. “I wanted to ask if he’d walk me down the aisle,” You whisper. H/n holds you tighter.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” He whispers to you. “I shouldn’t have proposed without asking for his blessing or at least mentioning it to him,”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” You grumbled before sighing. “But this is much more than that. Something else is bothering him,”

“You’re his precious girl, he’ll talk eventually,” He reassures you. You don’t respond, you simply cuddle deeper into his embrace.

A week passed. You had five days until your wedding. You woke up excited as you daydreamed about the day. However, your happiness didn’t last.

BRITIAN AT WAR WITH GERMANY

Your father and uncles had fought in the first war. The supposed ‘war to end all wars’. Now, only a short few years later there was another war. A war the next generation would fight. A war your H/n volunteered to join.

You were in the kitchen cleaning up. You were doing everything you could to keep buys. Britain was officially at war and you were terrified. You knew everything was going to change. Deep down you knew it would happen but it didn’t register until he was right in front of you.

“When do you leave?” You whisper, desperately trying to stay together as you look at H/n. He was in his uniform with papers in his hand.

“Thursday,” H/n hesitantly whispers. You close your eyes and hang your head. Not only was your soon-to-be husband going off to fight this war but he was leaving before your wedding. On top of that, you only had two more days with him.

“Why do you have to leave?” You whimpered. He doesn’t answer. He just closes the gap between the two of you and pulls you into a tight hug. He hugged you as if he could single handedly keep you from falling apart.

“I will come back to you, Y/n Shelby,” He states firmly. “Heaven nor hell will keep me from you, you have me word,”

“I love you,” You whisper, clinging to him. He pulls back just enough to tilt your head up to his lips. He doesn’t verbally respond but he tries to pour all his love and determination to return to you in the breathtaking kiss.

You cling to him for as long as you can but eventually have to let him go. While he didn’t leave until Thursday he had much to get done before then. He promised he would be back in a few hours but you didn’t want to be alone.

The first thing you did was go to Polly. You froze when you saw her drying her cheeks. Finn had volunteered as well. Together you both cried.

Finn might have technically been your uncle but he was more of a brother. There was only a few years difference between the two of you. Polly had raised you both. You hated that you could possibly not only lose H/n but Finn as well.

Luckily Charlie was still too young to join but only for another year. You had no doubt that he would join up the first chance he got. He’s Tommy’s son. Neither of them were good at backing down.

When you left Polly you went to Arrow House. You were done. You were done with your father’s stubbornness. You were done with his silence and his judgmental stares. He could be mad about the wedding all he wanted but you needed him to come back to you.

“Did H/n..?” Lizzie’s voice dissipates. She didn’t want to finish the question and she didn’t have too. You just nod and accept her comforting hug. You’ve cried the majority of the day and knew you weren’t done yet. You knew the second you went face to face with Tommy you’d fall apart all over again.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“In his office,” Lizzie says knowing exactly who you were wanting. “Most likely on his second bottle by now,” You sighed, rubbing your face tiredly. “I’ll make some tea,” You send her a smile and a nod.

You don’t even bother to knock, you rarely did. There wasn’t a room you knew about that you weren’t welcome into. Inside you found your father slouched in his chair with a full glass in his hands. He doesn’t bother to look at you. You don’t even know if he registers your presence.

“I don’t know what you’re so mad at me about,” You began. Your voice sounded strong and you hoped it stayed that way. “Yes, H/n asked me to marry him. No, I didn’t know at the time that he didn’t talk to you but get over it. You haven’t made his time in this family easy, no wonder he doesn’t want to talk to you.

“When you found out you found out too soon. I was there to talk to you about it but Ruby and Lizzie saw me first. This wasn’t something I wanted to keep from you, I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry,” You whisper. Hope fills you a bit when he glances at you in the corner of his eye. “I know something else is bothering you but I don’t know what it is and I need you to work it out some how because I need you, dad,” You whimper.

He finally looks at you.

“These last few months have been so hard without you and now H/n is going off to war, I’m not sure if I’m even going to get married, and you still won’t fucking talk to me!” You shouted but the tears in your eyes betrays your anger. “I’m scared out of my mind I’m going to lose H/n, that I’m going to lose Finn... That I already lost you,” A few tears fall down your face. “I’m sorry for whatever I did, please forgive me because I need you so fucking back,”

By the end you were close to sobbing and falling to you knees. You sobbed but you never fell. Tommy was out of his seat and was wrapping his arms around you before your knees could give away.

He leads you to the couch and sits down. You curl into his chest like you used to do when you were younger. He hums quietly and rocks you.

“You didn’t lose me, darling girl,” He whispers to you. “I’m so sorry for the way I’ve acted. I should have never treated you like I have. No, I don’t like H/n but not because of who he is but because he’s taking my little girl from me,” You tilt your head to look at him. “For nearly 26 years you have been the center of my world,” He whispers quietly. “Through everything, you have been the most important constant in my life. There were many times you were my only source of happiness, my only will to live,” He admits. “I’m terrified of what I’ll do without you,”

“You’ll never be without me,” You whisper to him. “I live ten minutes away and you’ll still see me daily whether H/n likes it or not,” Tommy smiles a bit. “And maybe when the war is over you’ll have more mini me’s running around,” Tommy scowls at the thought of the process of making children rather than the thought of the actual kids.

“You’re happy with him?” You nod. “You love him and he loves you?” You nod again. “Has he hurt you?” You shake your head. He sighs, slightly frustrated with the lack of reason to murder H/n. Not that he really needed a reason but he knew if he did he would hurt you. He’s already hurt you enough as it is. “Then you have my blessing,” You smile at him.

“He leaves before the wedding,” You whisper. He shrugs.

“So, move the wedding up,” He says nonchalantly.

“How are we going to set everything up before Thursday?” You ask. He smirks.

“You don’t worry about a thing,” He kisses your forehead. “Let me call Ada, Pol, and Esme. They’ll help you get ready and I’ll worry about the rest,”

“You avoided this wedding the entire time, now you’re going to plan in within a few hours?” You ask.

“I’m Thomas Shelby,” He said as if it were the cure to all diseases. “Up you get,” He gently pushes you out of his lap. “No worrying,” He points at you before kissing your forehead again.

“Who’s going to want to celebrate at a time like this?” You ask before he leaves. He turns toward you and smiles softly.

“Right now is the perfect time to celebrate a moment like this,” Tommy tells you. You can see the honesty in his eyes and can tell he’s briefly reliving the past. You hate that his past is always haunting him and you pray that you’ll be able to help H/s if... when he comes back to you. “Relax, get ready, and I’ll see you in a few hours.”

It didn’t take long for Ada, Polly and Esme to show up. Polly had your dress and Ada had your accessories. The three of them with Lizzie and Ruby helped you get ready for the wedding.

As you got ready, Tommy went to your home where he found H/n just returning. It was obvious that he was surprised to see Tommy but he invited his future in-law inside nonetheless.

“I was a few years younger than you when I was shipped off to France,” Tommy explained to him. “When I returned I wasn’t the same. Nobody who goes through what we went through, what you will go through, returns the same,” Tommy warns. “Y/n was five or six when I got back. She helped give me a reason to keep waking up, to keep moving. When you come back, you’ll need someone that will be able to anchor you into the present. Don’t push people away, especially Y/n... She won’t let you,” Tommy advises with a soft smile as he thinks about you.

“I won’t,” H/s vows.

“You say that now but I promise it’ll be very tempting when you return,” Tommy says. Casually, Tommy walks closer. “Everyone that returns deals with the past differently. I won’t judge you for the drinks you’ll have or even the drugs you may take,” Tommy shrugs. “But if you come back and you turn violent again Y/n at any point. If you so much as hurt her one time, I will personally dig your grave and put you in it,” Tommy promises. “You will come back, you’ll deal with it however you can, and you’ll take care of Y/n and the family you’ll have. If you can’t do that, don’t marry her and walk away now.”

“I love you daughter. I want her happy and I’ll give my life to keep her safe,” H/s vows.

“Good,” Tommy nods. “That’s my little girl. Her happiness is everything to me. You give me one reason to kill you and I promise you and whatever god is out there that I will take that chance,”

“Understood,” H/n slowly nods.

“Good,” Tommy nods again. “Well, let’s get going, you’re getting married in a few hours,” Tommy says walking toward the door. He pulls out a cigarette and begins to light it.

“I am?” H/n calls out confused. Tommy just keeps walking and H/n jogs to catch up.

A few hours later, John and Arthur show up to collect the women.

“Your chariot awaits madam,” Arthur announces loudly. You couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear as he leads you to the car. John winks at you playfully.

“Told you he’d come around,” John teased.

“Should have cried in front of him sooner, that usually does the trick,” You joke back. John grins wider and kisses your head.

“Alright! Let’s get a move on, we’ve got a wedding to get too!” Arthur hollers. When you arrive where the rest of the gypsies and Peaky Blinders are, they cheer for your arrival.

Tommy greets you at the car looking handsome as ever.

“I hope I’m still allowed to walk you down,” He mutters helping you out of the car.

“Of course,” You smile leaning into him. He kisses your head and leads you toward the aisle. At the end you find H/s standing there looking breathtaking. “I’m scared,” You whisper.

“That’s alright,” He promises, slowly walking you toward your future husband. “There’s going to be moment where you’re scared but there will never be a moment where you’re alone,” He tells you. You tighten your arm around his. “These last few months will never happen again,” He vows. “I’ll be there anytime and every time you need me,”

“I know,” You whisper.

When you reach the end, Tommy turns toward you. You smile up at him. He gently cups the side of your face.

“I love you,” He whispers, gently kissing your forehead. His lips linger as he remembers the day you were born, the day he left and came back from the war. He remembered every moment he shared with you. He hated that future memories would be shared with H/n but as long as you were there he wouldn’t mind.

“I love you too,” You whisper back, basking in the warmth and safety of his embrace for a moment longer. Tommy hesitantly steps back. You both share a smile before he hands you off to your soon-to-be husband.

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Tommy x Reader #x daughter!reader #Shelby #Shelby!reader #John Shelby #Arthur Shelby #Finn Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Polly #Ada Shelby #x fem!reader #x female reader #x female!reader #request #tommy shelby x reader #tommy x daughter!reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader

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oddshelbyout · 3 years

Text

Forever // John Shelby X Fem!Reader

Summary: You get a letter that declares your husband, John dead during the war. Just as you were slowly getting used to the pain, a miracle brings him home.

Warnings: Mention of death (non graphic), Angst

Word Count: 1668

Author’s Notes:

I needed to write some angst and this is how it ended up. I’m really proud of this one even though I don’t think it’s as angsty as I intended to make it. I hope you enjoy it <3

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

You were lying on John’s childhood bed. It had been your bed ever since he got shipped off to France. The house you lived together in felt empty and the double bed you slept together was lonely.

With all the boys being on the battlefield, expect Finn. The Shelby women were staying together, taking care of business and each other.

It had been two years since they left when you got the letter. The letter was delivered to the house you and John lived. You didn’t realise it existed until a few weeks later. You wished you never realised.

The letter declared John dead. He was presumed killed in action. He had originally gone missing and afterwards was called dead.

You hadn’t opened the letter until you were with Polly. You could feel that it was something bad. If it wasn’t it wouldn’t be delivered in the first place.

Your eyes started bawling out the moment you read the first few words. Polly had his arms around you, much calmer than you. She didn't shed a single tear. Ada was there too but unlike Polly, she was crying. Not as much as you did of course.

One might’ve assumed they would cry more. They were family by blood. You cried most because you had less time with him and that time wasn’t enough for you.

When you finally let go of the letter, his eyes appeared behind your closed ones. You couldn't open them, you didn’t want to see a world where he wasn’t in. It got easier after a while but then, you started hearing his voice. How he called you “Love” and “Darling” and occasionally “Baby”.

Thankfully you had Ada and Polly and even Finn. The youngest Shelby was your best distraction. All of them had the same pain though with different ways to show it. Polly got more aggressive after learning about John’s death and Ada got more passive. Finn just stopped playing with his toy guns.

You got used to the fact that your husband wasn’t going to return from the war. It hurt but you got used to it. You knew there was a possibility of that happening but never thought it would actually happen.

You were lucky that you were already staying with the other remaining Shelbys in Small Heath. John’s childhood bed felt more like your own bed after learning about his death.

You got so used to the Shelby home that you even forgot you had a house you lived with John in. Maybe you just chose to forget. The bed you were sleeping was more comfortable anyway.

You sat on the bed. You didn’t feel like doing anything productive so you just sat and read your book. You had become somewhat numb. The book in your hands would’ve made you cry if it was a few months ago.

You barely understood anything you read so Finn suddenly opening the door was a gift. “You have to come down Y/N.” he said with his not yet thickened voice.

You sighed, “Can’t it wait until I finish this chapter at least?” Finn shook his head. “Polly said now.” you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t think of anything that could be this urgent.

“And you always do as Polly told right?” you mocked Finn. He seemed upset by it and looked into your eyes, putting pressure on you. You closed your book and before letting Finn say anything, you left the room.

You slowly walked down the stairs, Finn behind you. When you got down, “Pol?” you called out for her. You looked around and just as you were going back upstairs you heard footsteps.

You turned your back, expecting Polly, you were going to ask her what was so urgent. Instead you saw John. His face reflected his tiredness. His eyes were looking dead. He had a cane in his hand, you examined him from head to toe. You thought you were hallucinating.

You gasped. You blinked a few times. Your eyes teared up. “John.” you said quietly. Your whole body went numb. Finn looked at John and then you. Polly appeared behind John, her face was wet from tears.

You couldn’t stand still. You collapsed on the floor. It was dark. You heard John calling your name, felt Polly’s hard slaps on your cheeks. You couldn’t open your eyes.

“Finn get her water.” Polly ordered, you heard the boy’s footsteps. A harder slap from Polly came afterwards. You opened your eyes. John’s eyes blocked your sight. “You.” was all you could say.

Finn came back with a glass of water. You tried to sit up, Polly offered you her hand. John was silent. He was on his knees beside you, he was in pain. He took support from his cane and stood up.

“Finn, go upstairs.” Polly told the boy, he nodded and rushed upstairs. “He’s supposed to be dead!” you shouted at Polly then looked at your husband. You took the water from Polly’s hand and took a sip.

“Let’s get you up Baby.” you heard him say. You thought you’d never hear his voice again, you thought you’d never be called baby and feel the way you did when he said it. It should’ve felt like a blessing, a miracle but it felt more like a curse.

You stood up by yourself without any help. “Why don’t we sit down.” John said, looking towards the door of the living room. You nodded silently. Every breath you took felt like the first.

You sat down on the couch, John sat down beside you. “I’ll leave you two alone.” she said and left, probably going upstairs to Finn.

“Y/N, why won’t you look at me?” he asked. He noticed he avoided his gaze. You felt like none of it was real. “You were supposed to be dead.” you mumbled, barely able to speak.

Your voice cracked, John seemed to share the pain you were in. You couldn’t understand why you weren’t happy about this. John understood, you were in shock. You were just getting used to his loss and now you knew it was all a lie.

You cried, you didn’t know what to see, neither John did. You sobbed, John pulled you to himself. His arms felt safer than ever. He gave you a kiss on the forehead. Your tears wetted his shirt.

“Why aren’t you dead!” you were angry that you had to go through that grief even though it wasn’t true. You pushed yourself out of his arms.

John held your face between his two hands. “Look at me Love, I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” he assured you.

“But…” you tried to speak but he interrupted. “I got captured.” he said, it was obviously hard for him to talk about it. He felt like he owed you the explanation, he had to tell you about it no matter how hard it was.

“I was tortured, you got the letter when I was in the enemy's hands.” he swallowed, his eyes teared up. “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.” he let go of your face and held your hand instead.

“I have to.” he whispered, you nodded telling him to continue. “I was found only a few weeks ago, I needed treatment so they transported me back here.” he took a deep breath. “John…” you said before biting your lip.

“Y/N just listen.” John said softly, “Okay” you mouthed. You squeezed his hands in support. “They told me the war is over for me, at least this one.” he said, “I’m home and I’m not going back.” his voice was still.

“I wish I could be happy right now but I’m just in more pain.” you confessed. “I know but I’m here and as long as we have each other it’s okay.” you hugged him. You hugged him tighter than you ever did and ever will.

John started crying too. His tears fell on your hair and yours fell on his shoulders. He was here, you were hugging him, you were talking to him, he called you “Baby” again. You expected to wake up from this dream but it was real.

“No more grieving.” he whispered here. “No more going to bed alone.” you said. “No more being apart, we’ll be together forever.” his words just made you cry more.

It was the first time you saw John cry and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time. The way he stood and spoke told you he was a different man now but it didn’t matter. You were in his arms and he was in yours.

“Has Ada seen you?” you asked while still holding him close. “Not yet.” he said softly, “She’s gonna be so happy to see you.” you replied back.

“Definitely happier than Finn was.” he said, it made you chuckle and put a smile on both of your faces. “I love you so much.” you cried and all he could say was “Me too.”.

Neither of you spoke for a while. There was nothing left to say, maybe there was a lot to talk about but it wasn’t the time. Your safe silence in each other’s arms was cut with Ada entering the room.

“Fucking hell!” she screamed, “Have I gone mad?” she shouted. You and John laughed unintentionally at her reaction. Polly came running, “I guess it’s time to have a family meeting.” she said while Ada stood there her jaw dropped.

Ada was calmer than you were and so was Polly. Neither of you expected it but it was a miracle anyway. It was your miracle. You were finally at ease while you still had that little but of grief left.

The happiness didn’t appear until you were getting ready for bed. You weren’t going to sleep alone. John wasn’t sleeping on the uncomfortable hospital bed or in the trench. It was the most peaceful night you had in ages.

#peaky blinders #john shelby #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #john shelby oneshot #joe cole

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rachelsteapot · 3 years

Text

Rescued: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader Pt. 2

Here’s part 2 for all you lovely people :) Read part one Here

Just to let you all know, I am aiming to post twice a week, Mondays and Thursdays, but I am currently on Easter break so when I return to 6th Form, that may change. I aim to post at least once a week during term time, but that is to be comfirmed.

Thank you so so much for all the love and support that you have shown me for Rescued. I really wasn’t expecting this much love. You’re all wonderful!

Warnings: None

Tags: @bat-luna-cat , @nothingleftthaticando

That evening, Tommy Shelby returned to Battersea cats and dogs home.

He pushed the front door open and entered the foyer, where he had stood mere hours before. No one was there so he sat in one of the slightly battered looking seats and let himself relax. Today had been long, but by his standards, not overly eventful. He wanted to see his new dog, but also this girl that had caught his eye.

Y/N, on the other hand, was shitting herself.

The Thomas Shelby was here to collect a dog, one of her dogs, and she hadn’t made any considerations. If she’d have known, she would have had all the dogs lined up and ready.

But she hadn’t.

And all that was left to do was pray.

Finally, she hauled herself from her self pity and appeared behind the desk to see the famous Mr Thomas Shelby light a cigarette. His stunning blue eyes met Y/N’s and her heart thudded in her throat.

“Please follow me, Bruce is waiting for you,” Y/N gulped, watching Tommy’s coat sweep as he stood.

Tommy watched as this girl, this woman, gracefully walked across the foyer, opening a different door to earlier. Upon entering, he found her crouched next to Bruce, stroking him gently and whispering. Finally she stood, taking a second to wipe tears from her eyes before she turned to him.

"I hope you love Bruce just as much as I do. He's been at Battersea for a couple of years now and, honestly, he's the best dog ever. I swear, he's got to be part human, he always knows how to comfort you," Almost as if to prove it, Bruce pushed his head into Y/N's hand and whimpered gently.

Tommy felt his heart melt a little more for this woman. It was clear that this dog meant a lot to her. And for a moment, his heart ruled his head.

"You could always come with us."

Y/N shot Tommy a confused look. This was not the Tommy she had heard about, and she was not about to become part of some cruel game.

"What do you mean, come with you? You're adopting a dog, not asking to marry me. At least ask me out to dinner first," Y/N blurted before she could stop herself.

Tommy's eyebrow raised, but so did the corners of his lips. Then, followed a short chuckle.

"The Ritz, 8 PM tonight. Buy yourself a dress, I left an envelope in the donations box."

"But the Ritz doesn't take dogs-"

"They will if it's mine, come on Bruce," and with that, Tommy turned and strode out of the kennel. Y/N hurried after him with the bag of dog food, and found the Shelby brother stood next to a very expensive looking Bentley. Bruce followed obligingly and began sniffing at the wheels of Tommy's car while the two humans loaded his things.

Once the car was loaded, Tommy hoisted Bruce into the passenger seat and shut the door, before settling himself in the drivers side. He turned, leaning out of the window and met Y/N's gaze once again.

"The Ritz, 8 PM, don't be late," and with that, Mr Shelby and his new companion trundled away down the street. Y/N stood there, dazed, desperately trying to process what had happened. Then, she remembered the envelope. Y/N dashed inside and opened up the donations box, removing a pale envelope with her name printed neatly on it, and opening it. Inside was a wad of cash, easily amounting to near £100, although she didn’t care to count it before she stuffed it into her pocket.

The next thing that Y/N’s whizzing brain realised, was that she would need to finish work early today, meaning that she would need to confront her mean, and rather sleazy manager, Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith was a middle aged man who tried to cover his rapidly receding hairline with a badly matched toupee. He seemed to have no inhibitions, and where his hands didn’t wander, his eyes definitely did.

Gulping down bile, Y/N approached his office and knocked on the door. She heard a croak from within and opened the door, stepping into the shroud of cigarette smoke.

“Mr. Smith, it’s Y/N. I’m just letting you know that Bruce has been paid for and collected, and the money is in the strong box under the main desk.” When she heard a grunt of approval, Y/N continued. “Also, Sir, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but I was wondering if Margerie and Alan could close up tonight without me? I have been having a few women’s issues and I feel I would be of more use tomorrow if I could have a few hours off tonight.”

Upon the mention of women’s issues, Mr. Smith began to cough and splutter, nodding and waving his hand through the shroud of smoke.

“Yes, leave, just know it will be deducted from your pay for this week!”

Y/N didn’t need to be told twice. She thanked Mr. Smith, and dashed from his office, wishing a brief goodbye to her co-workers as she went.

Then, she was running towards the shopping district, once again praying to whatever god may be listening, but this time, in the hope that the shops were still open.

Finally, it was 8 PM. Tommy had arrived at the Ritz not long before eight, and had settled himself and Bruce into a private room. He had ignored the protests of the concierge in regards to Bruce’s presence, and was adamant that it would stay this way. Now, all that was left to do, was wait.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was escorted into the room by a smartly dressed waiter. Tommy had stood from his seat to politely welcome his quest, but when he saw her, his world flipped.

Y/N was wearing a well fitted silver full length evening gown. It had small straps that fed into a plunging back, which Tommy had glimpsed as Y/N had turned to thank her escort. Gone was the ragged, almost street urchin looking girl, and instead in her place stood a young woman who could easily have been mistaken for the daughter of a lord. Y/N held herself differently too. Her posture was relaxed yet elegant, and her hands rested in her lap, holding a small silver bag.

"Mr. Shelby? Is everything okay?" Y/N's query roused Tommy from his unsaintly thoughts as he cleared his throat and met his guest's eyes.

"Yes, please, please sit." He directed, pulling out the chair opposite his for Y/N to sit on. She gracefully sat in the chair, stroking Bruce gently who had laid his head on her lap.

"So, Mr. Shelby,"

"Tommy, call me Tommy."

Y/N gulped, "Tommy, why did you ask me here?"

"Because, Y/N, you intrigue me. I don’t often get to talk to people like you.” Tommy’s voice was calm and measured, a drastic contrast to the storm that was raging in his head. He picked up his glass and took a sip, watching the woman opposite him intently.

“Shall we order some food? I expect you’re hungry.”

The rest of the evening passed slowly, time running like honey. Y/N slowly allowed herself to relax, enjoying the company of a man for the first time in what felt like forever. And he was attractive too.

Towards 10 PM, Tommy moved from the seat opposite Y/N to the seat beside her, their conversation flowing like the alcohol from their glasses.

“Y/N,” Tommy started after a prolonged period of comfortable silence. “How would you feel about coming back to Birmingham with me?”

Y/N was shocked. She had known this man less than twenty four hours and he was already suggesting she uproot her life and move halfway across the country to a completely different city.

“I don’t know if I can, Mr. Shelby- Tommy. The dogs are all here, and so is my job, and my friends. I can’t just leave,” Y/N felt Tommy deflate slightly, only microscopically, but it was enough.

Silence shattered the room. It wasn’t warm and comfortable, but cold, aggressive, heart breaking.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Shelby. Thank you for a lovely meal, I hope I may get to see you again. Please take good care of Bruce.”

Y/N stood and turned, only to feel her hand catch on something warm and firm.

Tommy felt his heart break as Y/N rejected his offer. This woman was like nothing he had ever encountered. She was intelligent, quick witted, able to drink just as much as he was, and stunningly beautiful. He was not going to let her get away that easily.

So, Tommy reached out and grabbed her hand as she attempted to leave. He spun her around and pulled the young woman flush against him.

“I can’t let you go just like that. Y/N, you intrigue me. You more than intrigue me. Please, come back to Birmingham for a day. We can see how it goes. I’ll get you a job at my company, you can meet my family, and then you can decide if you want in or out of my life. Please, Y/N. Please.”

Y/N felt Tommy’s hot breath on her neck, warming her heart. She could feel his body through his shirt, she felt the way that they fit. No one had ever felt so right. So she swallowed her pride and ignored the voice of reason.

She was going back to Birmingham with Tommy, and that was final.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby #john shelby #shelby company limited #dogs #cillian murphy

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amysteryspot · 4 years

Text

Better With You - Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Request: If you can could you please do one about Tommy having a sort of possessive claim over you (not in an abusive way of course) even though you’ve never looked at him in that way, and when Michael comes into the family again you two get close, which makes Tommy extremely jealous.

Requested by: Anonymous

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader

Summary: Thomas has known (Y/N) for all of her life and loved her for most part of his, always disguising his claim on her as friendly protectiveness. What happens when Michael makes his way back into the family and starts to get a little too close to her for Tommy’s liking?

Warnings: swearing, mentions of war, mild smut (?).

Word Count: 3526

A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you all have fun reading it too. An especial thank to @the-friendly-editor for helping me edit this, it meant a lot to me. Tags are at the end of the post, if you want to be add send me a message. I would love to hear what you think of it, your feedback is always appreciated.

Things you should consider before reading this:

1. I named the Shelby’s mother Anastasia because I felt like I needed to do that. Also, I know that there is a lot of discussion about Finn and the rest of the Shelbys having the same mother or not. I just assumed that they all have the same mother and she died a little after giving birth to Finn. It is not something groundbreaking for the fic but I wanted to clarify just in case.

2. The boys went to war right at the beginning of it; I just ignored the information given to us by “The Ballad of Tommy Shelby”.

3. I probably forgot to warn you about something, I’m sorry.

(Y/N) = Your Name | (Y/N/N) = Your Nickname | (Y/L/N) = Your Last Name | (Y/E/C) = Your Eye Color

If you asked Tommy how long he had known (Y/N) (Y/L/N), he wouldn’t know how to answer—fuck, it seemed like the woman had been in his life forever.

He remembered the day his mother had brought him to the (Y/L/N)’s house for them to meet the new baby. Four-year-old Tommy had complained all the way to their neighbor’s house, much to his older brother’s amusement, until their mother had given him a scolding. (Y/N)’s birth had been the talk of Watery Lane. They finally had a sweet little girl for the neighborhood to dote on.

With two sons, Anastasia was more than happy to welcome the little girl into their lives, not so secretly longing to have a daughter, and that was the reason for Tommy to be fussing over going to see the newborn—jealousy.

However, nothing could have prepared little Tommy for what was about to happen when his mother sat him down on the couch and Mrs. (Y/L/N) put the bundle of covers in his arms—his icy blue eyes stared down at baby (Y/N), who stopped crying instantly when she looked up at him with bright (Y/E/C) eyes of her own. From that moment on, Tommy knew that he would always love her.

And love her he did, since that day and throughout all of their lives. He would raise hell at home for his mother to bring him to the (Y/L/N)’s home so he could see (Y/N), and the three adults would all be astonished at how easily the baby would stop crying when she was in his arms. It wasn’t really a surprise that the first word she babbled was “Tom” or that when she started walking, on wobbly feet, it was Tommy she was seeking.

As they grew up, they grew closer, until it became almost impossible to have one without the other. When Ada was born, Tommy was worried about the possibility that (Y/N) would forget about him, that she would be too enchanted by having another girl around. Instead, as the time passed, he discovered that his little sister was one more reason for (Y/N) to spend more time at the Shelby home.

Even when he started messing around with the boys on the street, and she befriended other girls at school, they would still seek each other out whenever they could. They stuck together when their teenage years came, when Tommy started fooling around with girls from school and secretly scaring down most of the boys that showed any interest in (Y/N).

At least, he did until the day she came crying to him about not being good enough or pretty enough for anybody, not like the girls he would go out with, and breaking his heart; that certainly wasn’t what he had in mind when chasing down the boys. All he had wanted was to protect her, to make sure that she wouldn’t exchange him for some other boy. He wanted to ensure that she was his and his only.

That was actually the reason that led to their first kiss—her first kiss—(Y/N/N) had asked him, pleaded with him, through all the tears to just kiss her and get it done. Fifteen-year-old (Y/N) was sure that nobody would ever want her, and she wanted to experience it at least once. She told Tommy he was the only one she trusted with the task.

“It will mean nothing to you, Tom. You have kissed a million other girls already—I will just be another one for you—but it’s important to me. Please, Tom? Please, please.”

Her pleas had won him over, but (Y/N)’s words couldn’t have been further from the truth—the kiss had meant something for him. It had meant more than he predicted when he gave in to her begging, because the moment their lips touched, Tommy realized he was in love with his best friend and the worst part was that she didn’t had a fucking clue about it.

Then Tommy did what he did best; he pretended that it never happened, pushing it away and never talking to anyone about the kiss or his feelings. He stopped chasing down the boys who would show interest in (Y/N) and watched as she eventually started going out with some of them, laughing with him about how stupid she was to think that no one would ever like her.

When her first boyfriend got too handsy and she broke up with him—not before giving him a good left hook that left him with a very black eye, just like Tommy had taught her—(Y/N) had gone straight to the Shelby home, looking for comfort in his arms. Tommy pretended that the gnawing feeling in his chest was nothing but brotherly protectiveness instead of anger, jealousy and possessiveness—a destructive combination, especially on a Shelby boy.

(Y/N) had stayed with him that night, and the both of them slept together like they used to when they were kids. First thing in the morning the next day, right after he left her at her own house, he found her now ex-boyfriend and beat him up. Arthur and Freddie had to get him off of the guy, afraid of what he would end up doing if they didn’t stop him.

After that, Tommy had focused on channeling his frustrations into going out with every girl in town that wasn’t her. It wasn’t difficult, he was good looking and charming and he was very aware of it; that’s how he met Greta, and thought that he could get over his feelings for his best friend with her.

Greta’s parents were against their involvement at first, but he charmed them, so they started dating. His heart broke down when (Y/N) found out and showed genuine happiness for him having finally found somebody to settle down with.

Tommy’s plan was to end things between them. However, Greta fell ill and he didn’t have the heart to break up with her, so he stayed by her side until she passed. (Y/N) gave him support in the only way she knew how: by loving him.

Just not in the way he wanted her to.

When they thought that things would go back to normal, the War exploded and Tommy did the only thing he considered right in his eyes: he enlisted alongside his brothers. Their first fight had taken place on the night he told her he was leaving for France in two weeks. (Y/N) had hit and screamed at him until he was able to take a hold on her and then, then she cried in his arms the whole night, afraid that she would lose him forever.

They did the best they could with those two weeks. Once more, nothing could have prepared Tommy for (Y/N)’s appeal the night before he was shipping to France. She had come to him right after dinner. Her father was preparing himself to leave, too, and both of the (Y/L/N) women were enjoying whatever time they had left with him before he was gone.

As they both laid there in his bed, resting in each other’s arms and staring at the ceiling, (Y/N) made the decision that would seal his fate if he could survive the war.

“Make love to me.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a request—she was simply telling him to make love to her like this was the most logical thing in the world. His breath caught in his throat, preventing him from answering at first, and (Y/N/N) took that as a cue to reassure him.

“It will be like my first kiss, Tommy, just something I have to get over with. I want it to be you. I trust you. Let me give you at least one last good memory of me before you go.”

Again, he caved in, not needing much more convincing than the certainty in her eyes as she looked down at him, propped up on one elbow. Her hand rested unintentionally above his heart. Granting her wishes, he let himself dive into his own desires, touching her the way he had wanted since they had kissed for the first time.

He worked her body like a delicate instrument and pulled at her strings smoothly, engraving every beautiful sound that he coaxed out of her and the feel of her under his fingertips in his memory. When morning came, they were still a mess of limbs intertwined together, trying to hold on to a last thread of hope and imprint the last few hours on their memories.

In a way, (Y/N) was right. The boy that entered that train in 1914 wasn’t the same that got out of it in 1918. Yet, his love for her never faltered; it just became a tad more… dangerous.

Thomas lost count of how many letters they had exchanged during the past four years. He lost count of how many times he dreamt of her, of coming back home and telling her how he felt. However, any courage he had gathered vanished the moment he saw her waiting for him at the train station. He couldn’t condemn her to a life by his side, he had already taken enough from her.

Polly had told him in her letters how (Y/N/N) had helped her with the business, with the house, with Finn, and with any other thing she could. Especially after her mother, who had given up on life after Mr. (Y/L/N) was killed in combat, passed. A part of him felt guilty for not being there for her as much as she was for him when his mother passed and his father left.

“She’s a Shelby now.”

That’s what Polly had said when he asked her if (Y/N) had any remaining family.

Not much changed when they returned. (Y/N/N) still worked with them. She spent more time at the Shelby home and the gambling den than at her own place. The two of them still sought each other out, not talking much, but enjoying each other’s company. It was in those quiet moments with her that Tommy had a little peace.

Thomas drowned himself in work to forget it all, wanting to expand the business, unleashing his ambitions so long smothered by the war. They found the guns, in a strike of luck, he thought. Both Polly and (Y/N) advised him to let it go, but he just couldn’t. It was too good of an opportunity.

Campbell had come because of it, and with him, Grace. At the time, he didn’t know who she really was. He thought that the beautiful, blonde barmaid was just that: beautiful and innocent, everything he and his family were not. So he fooled himself, fell for her, and then she betrayed him and left for America.

Again, (Y/N) was there for him, and again, he found himself sinking into his love for her. The only good thing that came from all this mess was that the business was never better. He thought that it was time to start planning for an expansion, and with that came another thing that he hadn’t quite predicted—Michael.

He had planned to find Polly’s children for her. She had been suffering quite a lot lately. Even if people thought that his heart was as good as gone, he wanted his family to be okay. He wanted them to be happy.

Thomas found the boy and he came to Polly, making his way into the family and the business quickly. That included starting to get close to (Y/N) – too fucking close for his liking.

It was supposed to be natural, he knew that. (Y/N) kept the books at the shop. She was better with numbers than most of them, so it was natural that she would be the one to help Michael when he assumed the position of accounts clerk.

After they came back, he learned that (Y/N) had become very good at sneaking around without getting caught. It was rare to see her with any men whose last name wasn’t Shelby, or wasn’t closely related to the Peaky Blinders. That didn’t mean she didn’t have men swooning over her all the time, or that he was finally okay with that—much like when they were teenagers, he wanted to chase them all down—the only difference was now he was more deadly.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

It was Michael’s voice that brought him back to reality, and his gaze fell immediately on the boy. They were all gathered on the snug in the Garrison. (Y/N) was sitting between him and Michael, Tommy’s arm casually rested on her shoulders.

(Y/N) said, “Oh, no, you would totally get it... after a few more weeks.”

Everyone burst out laughing at her remark, but the only thing he could think about was the hand Michael rested on (Y/N)’s thigh. His own hand clenched around his glass before he downed the rest of its contents.

He didn’t notice Polly’s gaze on him. Despite what most people believed, Tommy had never been a good liar. He could get away with omitting information to people and redirecting the conversation, most of the time, but a direct confrontation was a completely different thing. Polly was always able to read him first, to know the things he wasn’t willing to share.

“Maybe we should just hire you instead of Michael, then.” He ignored the look (Y/N) gave him, taking another drag of his cigarette and looking away.

However, he couldn’t miss the lingering touches, or how (Y/N/N) leaned into Michael when he talked to her, and how she was just so comfortable with him. It made his blood boil.

When (Y/N/N) said she wanted to get home he offered to walk her, and was fairly surprised at how she didn’t say a word to him until they reached her front door.

Then she turned to face him, features painted with anger, and asked, “What the hell was that, Tom?”

He actually rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

(Y/N) huffed, turning around to unlock the door before entering the house, leaving it open for him to follow. She went straight to the dressing room, shedding her coat and throwing it at the table with her purse as he followed her closely.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

She was taking her shoes off, and Tommy took advantage of the moment to let his eyes follow her movements. God, was he in love with that woman.

“I’m talking about your attitude with Michael at the Garrison. That was completely unnecessary,” She said.

“Someone had to put that boy in his place,” Tommy said.

(Y/N) turned to him then, and he would be worried with that look if he hadn’t been at the receiving end of her anger for so many years.

“Oh, please enlighten me, Thomas. What is his place?” (Y/N) asked.

“For fucks sake, (Y/N/N), he was all over you!”

She rolled her eyes. “He is a boy, Thomas, a boy. He’s family…”

Tommy never thought that what would make him snap would be hearing her say that Michael was family, but apparently it was.

“He’s family, huh?” Thomas said. “He is fucking family! Then he should know better and stay away from you.”

She stared at him for a moment, brow furrowed, as she seemed to put the puzzle together in her head. “Why would he stay away from me, Tom?”

He turned around to face away from her for a moment, rubbing a hand over his face. “No, no. You won’t make me feel guilty for that.”

“Make you feel guilty for what, Tommy?”

He recognized the hint of annoyance on her tone and couldn’t ignore it anymore, the alcohol giving him the courage that he had lost that day on the train station, as he turned around and shouted, “For loving you!”

She held her breath, eyes widening as she stared back at him.

Tommy continued, “Michael should stay away from you because you’re fucking mine and I love you.”

“Tommy, I’m not your property, and you know that I love you…”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupted her, making her look at him with confusion, “You don’t love me the way I love you. The way I’ve loved you since the fucking day you asked me to kiss you when you were fifteen!”

He saw her flinch before murmuring his name, trying to gain his attention but he couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out there and he just had to go on with it, let it all out before he lost his mind.

“You said to me that it would mean nothing, that it would be just another kiss for me, but you were wrong,” Tommy said, his breaths short.

She looked bewildered, and Tommy held onto a strand of hope he didn’t even know still existed.

“That kiss meant fucking everything. From that day on, I’ve never seen you in the same way as before, because I realized I was in love with you and you didn’t feel the same. So I ignored these feelings while I saw you going out with boys, and I’ve thrown myself into fucking every girl that wasn’t you because I knew I couldn’t have you, not the way I wanted.”

Tommy didn’t notice that he was walking to her until they were just a breath apart.

“Then I found Greta, and I thought that I could forget you, but it only reminded me that you are the only one I want. I was going to break up with her, but she fell ill. You stayed by my side, and just when I thought that I would have a chance to tell you everything, the war happened and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t, because there was no way in hell that I was going to risk going to fight in France and die. I couldn’t leave you here to suffer because of me, either because you felt the same or not.”

“Tommy…” (Y/N)’s voice was all but a whisper.

He couldn’t resist anymore, his hands brought her to him, his eyes observing hers from up close, not giving her time to talk or he would lose his courage.

“I was ready to go there and die, and never let you know how I felt. But you had to give me hope that night before I was shipped off to that fucking hell. You had to…”He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a brief second, a flood of memories making his heart race faster. “You had to give yourself to me. You had to give me a taste of what I thought I could never have, to make me want to survive the fucking war, to come back to you, and to let you know about all of these stupid feelings.”

Tommy couldn’t wait anymore. He did the one thing he had wanted to since he had returned from France—he kissed her. It wasn’t gentle or patient; no, it was urgent and filled with passion and he didn’t know how to stop, not when she wasn’t pushing him away. He devoured her as a man starved, teeth clashing and hands grabbing at anything they could touch. They were both out of breath when they finally parted.

“You said that you wanted to give me one last good memory and it was that memory that kept me alive during most of the nights when I was stuck in the fucking mud,” Thomas said.

(Y/N)’s fingers were clinging to him like her life depended on it, like she was afraid to lose him to the War again.

Tommy took the moment to let the words spill out. “The memory of you and the feeling of you under my fingers, and all around me, and the way you tasted.”

His lips brushed against hers, fingers clawing at the flesh of her hips like they had done the night before he left for France.

He backed her up against the wall, hands trailing down to the back of her thighs, picking her up and trapping her with his body.

Tommy looked straight to her eyes as he spoke again, “How you writhed under me, all the beautiful sounds you made, and I just wanted to come back to you and make some new memories.”

(Y/N) shivered at his words. She gave him just a brief second to observe the rise and fall of her chest and her expanded pupils before he felt her fingers at the back of his head, forcing him to really look at her as she said, “Then let’s work on those new memories.”

Their lips clashed again, and every doubt that he ever felt vanished for a moment. That night their bodies moved together like old acquaintances, skin sliding against skin, hands gripping at each other, lips kissing every patch of skin while chanting a sinful choir of moans and curses alongside their names.

When Tommy woke up the next day, (Y/N/N) in his arms, he realized that he was finally home.

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @internalmess3

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Happily Ever After - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: This turned out really long and it’s really bad xD This is part two of “Without A Trace”, which has been heavily requested. I know the whole Changretta vendetta didn’t last four years and that there’s a lot of plot holes in this, but I had to create my own timeline and cut it to an end because it got too long, so it’s not as detailed as I would have wanted it to be. Might come back and add some things in the future but for now, this is it. I hope you like it xx

Wordcount: 6169

Summary: Four years after running away from Small Heath, leaving your families behind in order to continue being together, you and Finn have built a life and started a family of your own in America. After not having heard from Isaiah for a while, he finally gets in touch and lets you know the war with Changretta is over, that your dad and Tommy have made amends and it’s safe to return home.

Part One - Without A Trace

America was really different from Birmingham, of that much you were sure the second you stepped foot out of the ship that had taken you there.

The whole idea of running away had stressed you out indescribably much already in the moment Finn had first uttered it, and upon arriving at your destination, the anxiety in your chest only intensified.

You had started your new life off with a panic attack in an alley, just crying and shaking and saying that you wanted to go back home, that you never should have left in the first place. But after a long fifteen minutes, Finn had finally managed to calm you down, assured you that he would take care of you, and that you wouldn't die by being on your own like it felt in that moment.

The first two night in America you had spent at a cheap inn, until you managed to get yourself a small apartment with the money you had brought from home – after paying a bank a visit to exchange the currency.

The first week you didn’t do much to actually try to settle down. You ran around and had fun, mostly as a way to push back the thought of your families that you were admittedly already missing dearly.

You went to circuses and carnivals, wandered through the streets hand in hand, but as you didn’t want to waste your money, you had to sneak into most of the places you went.

Everything you had wanted was to see the world with him. Find new places and experience new amazing things. And now you got to do just that.

But it was only fun and games for so long, as you soon realized you would have to settle down for real and find work so that you could continue living like you did.

As Finn hadn’t gone to school since he was six, he didn’t have many qualifications that you needed to work in the big city of New York.

You however, managed to land yourself a job as a dressmaker’s assistant, earning enough money to keep you going while Finn spent his days learning how to read, write and count.

Eventually, he took up studies in economics and landed himself a desk job, and you went on to take over the dressmaker’s business when she passed away a year later.

At this point, you had gotten married. As he had stolen your heart, you only thought it fair that you stole his last name.

You had conceived your first children not long after you took over the business, two girls that you named Victoria and Nelly – twins.

The first few months, when they still needed to be nursed, you brought them with you to work every day.

Luckily, they were very content and sleepy, and never caused too much trouble or disturbed the customers. In fact, as it was mostly women who came into the shop in need of your services, they loved watching over the babies.

Once they got old enough to be fed from the bottle, Finn and yourself started taking turns taking care of them.

Some days, you would take them with you to work, and others, he would stay home with them. And every time he was on baby-duty, you would come home to find him sitting in the sofa with them resting soundly on his chest, sniffing their hair like he had from the first day.

He said they smelled good, and they did. There was really no smell like the one of a baby's head.

A year and a half later, your clothing brand had gotten much bigger, and you now had a big enough income to move to a bigger house, a bit further away from the city life.

You had another baby girl, making her your third, who you named Ines.

Unlike Victoria and Nelly, she was a mess. She cried all the time, wouldn’t sleep during the days nor the nights, and had you pulling at your hair with frustration and exhaustion every day.

But Finn was just so amazing about the entire thing.

Out of the two of you, you were without a doubt the most hardworking one, and he noticed your exhaustion and took care of the girls and the house when you simply didn’t have the energy to.

As you were both up and at it early in the morning to go to work every day, you either took turns or worked together to get the girls ready to go to your neighbor, who took care of them on the days you were both working, but when you got home, you were usually ready to fall asleep the second you set foot inside the doorway, so Finn was the one to put them to bed after you had made dinner together.

Now being able to read, he would read to them every night, all three of them squeezed in between you on Victoria or Nelly’s bed.

You would never admit it, but out of all of you, you were usually the first one to fall asleep, and unbeknownst to you, Finn and the girls would giggle quietly at your light snoring.

Once they were asleep, too, Finn would carefully carry them to their own beds, and then quietly wake you up and lead you to your bedroom where he would help you out of your clothes and then wrap his arms around you as you fell back asleep.

He would have left you to sleep in the girls’ room, but as their beds were really small, you most likely would have fallen out of it in your sleep throughout the night and by doing that woken the others up, and that wasn’t something any of you wanted to happen.

Ines was far too hard to put to bed once she was awake.

Putting them to sleep wasn’t the only thing he did, though. He taught himself to cut and braid their hair, and took you all out on late night strolls on the rare occasion on weekends, where you would gaze at the stars and just sit together on a hill somewhere and make flower crowns and watch the ants on the ground.

Whenever there was a thunderstorm, he would play and build blanket forts with them to distract them from the loud claps of thunder and keep them from crying.

More days than you would have wanted, he was way too nice, letting them have biscuits and tarts for snacks rather than the fruits you urged them to eat.

He just couldn’t say no to them, and you couldn’t get through to them either once he had given them a ‘yes’, because when they were at their best, and their worst, they were truly their daddy’s girls at heart – sweet and considerate, but God, so stubborn.

But you wouldn’t change any of them for the world.

Life had given you a wonderful family, a happy home and love for each other. But most importantly, it brought you together. You were so grateful to have Finn in your life.

He had been there holding your hand on your first date, holding your hands during the birth of your babies, and now he continued to hold your hand through the beautiful thing you called life. You couldn’t imagine anyone else being there to hold your hand.

You adored him with all of your heart and that feeling would never go away. Your children were proof of your love. Your family was the greatest treasure you had. He was your best friend, the father of your children and your hidden strength and you never would have been able to pull through without him.

Your new life was amazing, but ever since you had left Birmingham, you had been plagued by nightmares of your family dying in your absence.

It was always the same dream, all of them lying lifeless on the front step of the house you had lived in in Small Heath, always ending with your mom telling you that you could have saved them if only you hadn’t left.

Finn was there to hold you every time this occurred. He would never fall asleep before you, but rather forced himself to stay awake until he was sure you were soundly sleeping in his arms, and always got up to take care of you whenever you would wake up during the nights, no matter how late it was and no matter how tired he was.

If you couldn’t or didn’t want to fall back asleep, he would lay awake and talk to you until it was time to get up in the morning.

He never tried to promise that he would fix all your problems, but he always promised you that you would never have to face them alone, and you didn’t.

You were a team, and the greatest team anyone had ever seen. Whatever one of you lacked, the other balanced out. Whenever you had a minor setback, you made a major comeback. If you had a bad day, he always promised you a better night. If you needed support, he acted as your backbone.

You were never alone and you couldn’t have been more grateful that he was the one you ended up with against all odds.

You were truly happy, but you still couldn’t help but feel a pang of pain in your chest when you saw him with your daughters.

He was their greatest hero and protector, that much was clear as day in their eyes whenever they looked at him.

He was the greatest father. He scolded them whenever they would break the rules, but he would still always be there to pick them up when they fell.

Any fool could have a child. That didn’t make him a father. It was the courage to raise a child that makes you a father. And even then, any man could be a father, but it took someone special to be a dad.

And the dad he was to them, was exactly who your dad had been to you.

Despite you and Finn never fighting, you would sometimes find yourself stuck in life and when everything went wrong and you were having a bad day, you wished you could have just called your dad so that he could tell you that everything would be okay.

But with the way things were, you couldn’t, and it hurt, no matter how much Finn tried to assure you that the feud your families had would be gone someday.

Because you never believed it.

You knew your dad. He wasn’t one to betray his allies, not for anything or anyone, probably not even for you.

So all you could do was look through the photo albums you had both brought, introducing your daughters to their grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins through paper and ink.

You told them about your mom, dad, siblings, uncles and your father’s men who might as well have been family by blood, and Finn told them about his brothers, sister and Aunt Polly.

You weren’t very hopeful that it would ever happen, but if the day actually came that you would be going back, both of you wanted them to be familiar with their families, to make the first meeting as easy as only possible for them.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a picture of Isaiah, who had made all of this possible. But he called to check up on you once every other week, having to put some time between the calls to not act suspicious and always having to call from a phone box so that Tommy wouldn’t be able to track the phone register.

Because Isaiah had told you that he tracked everything, knowing that someone must have known where you were, but just that he didn’t know who.

Very unlike him, however, he hadn’t called for almost three weeks now, and you were constantly worrying that something might have happened to your family.

You were about ready to give up and go back, when Isaiah finally called you, starting off by apologizing for worrying you.

And it was without a doubt the most shocking call you had ever gotten.

Finn had been the one to pick up the phone, and you had been forced to sit by, chewing on your nails while your daughters ran around your legs playing tag.

You could barely even hear them though, too busy trying to control your anxious breathing and beating heart as you took in the look of utter shock on Finn’s face.

Isaiah had told him that Changretta had invited the Shelbys over for dinner in the purpose of making peace between them as the vendetta and war between their families and business had gone on far too long, but that it had turned out just to be a trick to get them all into the same room without any way to protect themselves, and that he had then brought out the big guns.

That wasn’t what had shocked you the most, however.

What had shocked you the most was the fact that your father hadn’t known anything about his friend’s plan, obviously not seeing as he never would have thought he would be stupid enough to attempt a massacre with women and children in the room, and ended up throwing himself in front of Tommy to save him from a bullet, officially switching sides in the war and declaring himself an enemy of the man he had trusted with his life only moments before.

Everyone had gotten out of there alive. Some shot and some stabbed, but alive. All but Changretta.

When realizing that your father’s men had brought guns of their own and that they had no chance of winning in a gunfight, the Italians had fled and Tommy had then proceeded to put a bullet in between Changretta’s eyes, ending the war for good.

After taking a bullet for Tommy, Isaiah had told Finn, they had grown close and joined together, and only then had Isaiah let them know that he had known where you had been the entire time, to which they had asked him, to ask you, to come home.

You couldn’t believe it. Truly. Your first reaction was to shake your head furiously and refuse, saying that you knew your father and you would not take the risk of going back, terrified that your dad would put a bullet between Finn’s eyes for taking you away from your home.

But Isaiah had sworn on his life that it was truly over, that you could really come home, and you had made arrangements already for the next week, which was where you were now.

Finn had made the grave mistake of letting the girls have biscuits for breakfast on this stressful morning, which was the sole cause of Victoria currently running circles around you in the mudroom as the driver who would be taking you to the train station was loading your luggage into the car.

You had ran into more obstacles than you had originally thought this morning, with Nelly wetting the bed and Ines then throwing a tantrum because you had accidentally packed her comfort blanket into one of the many bags, which had sent you on a rushed mission to dig through every single one of them until you finally found it in the last one.

The train would be leaving in only thirty minutes, and it was stressing you to the point where you couldn’t even button up your own coat.

Finn walked into the mudroom from the kitchen, already dressed in his suit and long black coat with his now slightly longer hair slicked backward, looking as handsome as ever.

He had to stop in his tracks in order to not collide with Victoria as she ran past him with her arms stretched out behind her, and he was chewing on a sandwich, not having gotten the time to have breakfast yet as he had been running around the entire morning making sure everything was in order and that your daughters had everything they would be needing for their travels.

Once Victoria had ran into the kitchen, giving him the clear, he instantly spotted you over by the door, glaring down at your coat while you tugged at the material, your fingers trembling with the stress.

“Let me help you.” He said, swallowing the last of his sandwich and coming over to you, his nimble fingers wasting no time in getting to work on your buttons.

You gazed at him, your entire body getting warm at the concentrated frown on his face, but your attention was soon adverted as Victoria came into the room again, now running around and neighing like a horse.

You let out an exhausted sigh, letting Finn handle it as you moved to put on your gloves.

“Grab your coat, Victoria.” He instructed her as he finished buttoning your coat, but he barely even got a reaction from the three and a half-year-old girl.

She simply ran past him, rushing out a: “No, thank you”, before running the other direction again.

Finn raised an eyebrow, catching her by the shoulders as she ran past him, successfully stopping her in her tracks. “No, thank you?” He inquired. “It’s raining out. You’re wearing a coat whether you want it or not.”

“But I’ll get too warm on the train.” She whined, crossing her arms over her chest and stomping her shoe into the floor.

Finn only chuckled, ruffling her hair. “You can take it off on the train, but if you don’t get into your coat now the train might leave without us.”

As he said this, Victoria’s eyes grew wide and she wasted no time in running over to the coat hanger where she pulled off her navy blue coat, quickly pulling it on and moving on to her hat.

“Where’s Nell and Ines?” You asked Finn, looking through your handbag to make sure you had everything you needed while Finn kneeled down to help Victoria with her buttons like he had done only a moment before with you.

He looked up at you briefly, giving you a soft smile. “They’re already outside.”

“In the rain?” You questioned, immediately frowning.

He finished buttoning Victoria’s coat and let her run off, standing back up to his full height and watching as she ripped open the front door and ran outside, Nelly and Ines now being revealed outside, bent down by a puddle of water.

“Let them play.” Finn told you simply, walking over to you and taking your chin between his fingers. “Water is exciting when you’re little.”

But you could only sigh, hugging your arms around yourself and watching as Victoria ran outside and jumped straight into a puddle, the sight of the water splashing up on her legs making you flinch. “They’ll catch a cold.”

“They’ll be fine.” He shook his head, leaning in closer to your face. “You worry too much.”

He pressed his lips against your lips softly, and you instantly melted into the kiss, your hands moving up to cradle his jaw.

You hummed, answering against his lips in a muffled voice. “Says the man who almost had a heart attack when his daughter fell and scraped her knee.”

He raised his eyebrows, breaking apart from your lips. “That’s not the same thing. There was blood involved.”

You could only snort. “Yeah, barely.” You shook your head, leaning in and giving him another short kiss before walking around him and heading for the front door, Finn not far behind.

While he stayed behind and locked up the door, you walked down the steps of the front of your house and approached your daughters by the puddle, watching as they poked a pinecone around with a stick each, sending it floating back and forth.

Finn came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and watching with you.

Nelly leaned her face closer to the puddle, narrowing her eyes at the pinecone slightly. “If it floats, does that mean it’s a witch?” She asked, to which you had to refrain from facepalming.

Beside you, Finn chuckled, shaking his head. “This isn’t Salem, so no. Now say goodbye to the pinecone and get in the car.”

They said nothing, only dropping their sticks into the puddle and standing back up, running towards the car while giggling and Nelly and Victoria holding Ines’s hands to keep her from falling over like she had so many times before.

Watching them climb into the car with the help of the driver who had been waiting by the door, you crossed your arms over your chest, watching them. 1

“I hate to say this-” You started, shaking your head and watching as Nelly stuck her tongue out at Ines, to which the youngest out of the three reached out to grab it. “But our daughter is a terrible human being.”

Finn laughed quietly, leaning his head down to kiss your neck. “She just has a vivid imagination.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips still tugged upwards at the feeling. “You shouldn’t have read them that book about the Salem witches.” You told him, and he instantly brought his face away from your neck, looking at you with an insulted expression.

“I thought it was a children’s book.” He defended, to which you only raised a playful eyebrow.

“One would think you would realize that it’s not when they start vividly describing the smell of burnt flesh.”

“What is it with you and nitpicking?” He asked, earning himself another eye-roll.

“That’s not nitpicking, Finn.”

But nonetheless, you stood on your tippy-toes to kiss his lips before walking over to the car, Finn following behind and helping you up before getting in himself, the driver closing the door behind him and wasting no time in getting into the driver’s seat and starting to drive to the train station.

You reached your destination in a little under twenty minutes, with a few minutes to spare before the train would be taking off. Finn paid the driver for the ride and for him to get your bags situated, and you got onto the train and found your seats.

Nelly and Finn sat on one side of the table, and Ines wasted no time in getting into his lap, while Victoria sat next to you on the other side, leaning into your side and sucking on her thumb, looking out the window tiredly as she waited for the train to start moving, appearing to have come down from her sugar-high.

Ines was already sleeping in Finn’s arms, her blanket hugged tightly against her chest, and Nelly was playing with the rings on Finn’s fingers, his arm thrown around her shoulders in a protective manner.

“Do the wheels on the cars get dizzy from spinning so much?” She asked absentmindedly, and you instantly smiled, quietly sitting back and watching the scene unfold in front of you.

“I don’t know.” Finn answered, looking down at her. “I’ve never thought about it.”

She hummed, twisting his wedding band around his finger. “Maybe you should.”

“Maybe.” He snickered, turning to look at you once he was sure she wouldn’t say anything else.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, and you only put on a fake smile, letting out a nervous laugh.

“My dad is going to kill us. I’m so excited.” You said, and he gave you a comforting smile, reaching his other hand over the table to take yours in his.

He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “Isaiah said he changed.” He tried assuring you, and you smiled gently at him, appreciating his attempt.

“I know.” You agreed quietly. “But after almost four years of being on our own, it just seems so surreal that everything is just… suddenly fine.”

He nodded his head in understanding but didn’t get the time to say anything else as Victoria spoke up from underneath your arm.

“Are we going to meet uncle Arthur now?” She asked, and you nodded.

“Yes, darling.” You confirmed. “And uncle John and uncle Tommy.”

Nelly stopped playing with Finn’s rings, looking up at him. “I want to meet uncle Arthur first.” She said. “You like him the most.”

“I like them all equally as much.” He said, using his thumb to brush away a crumb from her cheek, without a doubt from the cookies he had given them despite your protests.

“No, you like him the most.” She disagreed, grabbing a hold of his hand again.

You chuckled. “Don’t let the others let you hear that, darling.” You said, raising your eyebrows slightly at her when she turned to look at you. “It’s not nice to have favourites.”

A playful grin grew on her face, and she nodded her head, dragging her fingers over her lips to symbolize a zipper, locking it and then throwing away the invisible key.

She looked up at Finn then, questioning. “Can I sleep?”

He smiled, brushing his hand over her hair. “Of course.” He answered, and she smiled, immediately letting her head hit the side of his chest, bringing her legs up on the seat and getting comfortable.

“I love you, daddy.” She said.

“I love you too.” He answered, and although your heart swelled at her words, you raised a teasing eyebrow.

“What about momma?” You inquired. “Doesn’t momma get any love?”

She giggled but didn’t open her eyes as she answered. “I love you more than the stars in the sky, mommy.”

A prideful smirk made its way to your lips, your eyes flickering to meet Finn’s who was already staring at you, knowing very well what was coming.

“You hear that?” You asked, mocking him. “More than the stars in the sky.”

He chuckled, shaking his head with a smirk to match your own. “Don’t start a competition you won’t win.”

Just then, the train lurched to a start, cutting your conversation to an end.

No more words were spoken the entire train ride, the girls all falling asleep quickly and you as well, only waking up when Finn called your name to let you know you had reached the docks from which you would be taking the ship back to Birmingham.

It was a long way back, even longer so than you remembered, but after a total of six days, you were standing on British soil again, ready to go home.

Although you weren’t really ready. Not completely. The car ride to your house was so slow, torturous and thick with anxiety you could barely breathe.

Beside you, Finn and the girls were all joking and playing around, not seeming to be affected in the slightest as they played tug of war with Ines’s blanket, up until the point where the seam burst and Finn had to take it away to prevent it from being completely ripped in half.

The ride from the cut to your house was about ten minutes long, and despite the fact that you had been thinking quietly to yourself the entire time there, your thoughts were nowhere near collected by the time the car came to a stop and you barely even got any time to react before the door had been opened from the outside and Finn had abandoned your daughters to step out.

Through the door, you could make out Isaiah approaching and watched as he and Finn hugged in greeting. And then he noticed you, watching them with a smile resting on your lips.

As they parted, Finn turned back to the car and held out his hand, looking you in the eyes and nodding his head as a way to say that everything was going to be okay.

With a deep breath, you reached out and put your trembling hand in his, instantly feeling comforted by his warmth.

The first thing you noticed when stepping out of the car was the cold air pulling at your hair, and the second was the gleeful sound coming from the house, your mother coming running in your direction while holding her skirts up.

You barely got the time to let go of Finn’s hand and take a step forward before her body had collided into yours, her arms wrapping around you with such strength you could barely breathe.

But as the familiar scent of her hair invaded your senses, you couldn’t bother to care, tears instantly prickling your eyes as she cried into your ear.

“Oh, my sweet baby. My sweet, sweet baby.” She sobbed into your neck, and you had to squeeze your eyes shut as the tears started falling down your face, too.

“Hi, mom.” You whispered back, thankfully managing to keep your calm with Finn’s warm hand rubbing your back soothingly.

Your mom broke away from you and wasted no time in taking your face into her hands, beginning to pepper you with kisses.

Behind you, Finn had taken Ines into his arms, bringing her out of the car, and Isaiah was helping Victoria and Nelly out by their hands, laughing at them as they jumped down the steps.

Your mom instantly spotted them over your shoulder and a hand came up to cover her mouth in shock.

“Oh, they’re so big! They look just like you!” If she hadn’t already been crying before, she certainly was now.

Finn came up beside you with Ines sitting on his hip, hugging her blanket close to her chest, her thumb in her mouth and watching your mom with wide, curious eyes.

Nelly and Victoria left Isaiah and came to stand by your sides, and you put a hand on each of their heads.

“This is Nelly, Victoria and Ines.” You introduced, and Finn carefully bent down to put Ines feet on the ground, urging her forward.

“Say hello to your grandmother.” He spoke softly, and they did as told, speaking in unison.

“Hello.”

Victoria hid shyly behind your leg, but Nelly wasn’t shy at all, pointing at your mom’s neck. “I like your necklace.”

At that, she let out a hearty sob and bent down opening her arms. “Oh, come here and give me a hug!”

They wasted no time, all of them running into her embrace and you could only thank God that you had spent so many times showing them pictures, telling them stories and familiarizing them to their relatives, or else Ines would have for sure been crying by now, not being very fond of strangers.

Finn wrapped an arm around your waist, and it was only then you realized that everyone else, your entire families, had now gathered on the doorstep of your house and were watching you from afar.

The first two people you noticed were your dad and Tommy, standing at the very front, side by side and looking as if they had been best friends their entire lives.

The sight of them made you tense up with panic, and Finn noticed immediately, leaning his head down to press a comforting kiss to your temple.

“I won’t leave your side. Everything will be fine.” He assured you, and you nodded, giving a shaky breath and taking his hand in yours.

He lifted Ines back up into his arms, without ever letting go of your hand, while Victoria grabbed your hand and Nelly grabbed your mom’s, Isaiah walking behind and all of you heading in the direction of the house where everyone was waiting for you.

Polly was the first one forward, having a very similar reaction as your mother at seeing her youngest nephew, rushing forward and wasting no time in bringing him into a hug.

“Hello, aunt Pol.” He greeted with a smile, having to bend down in order to be able to put his chin on her shoulder.

Polly didn’t say anything, only moving on to your and surprisingly pulling you into an embrace as well, before starting to fuzz over Ines.

And just like that, everyone had stepped forward to greet each other, and Nelly wasted no time, having no shame in her body whatsoever and calling out over the happy chatter from her grandmother’s side.

“Where’s uncle Arthur?!”

“Oh my God…” You mumbled under your breath, having to bring your hand up to cover your face as you laughed, everyone else with you.

So caught up in the emotional moment and probably already a bit drunk, Arthur emerged from the crowd of family and friends and threw his arms out.

“Here I am!” He exclaimed, and Nelly instantly started giggling, ripping her hand out of your mom’s and running into his arms, letting him pick her up.

You greeted your brothers, your uncles, Finn’s family and friends, everyone gushing over how beautiful your children were and how much they looked like you and Finn.

Polly and your mom were crying side by side, one louder than the other, over the fact that they had missed so much, reality really catching up with them now that you were standing in front of them more grown-up than ever.

Soon enough, there was only one person you hadn’t yet said a word to, and you eyes instantly found him standing right by the stairs where he had been standing the entire time, his eyes watching you nervously.

“Dad.” A sad smile instantly made its way onto your lips, and you wasted no time in running for him, letting him take you into your arms, the anxieties you had had before arriving now as good as gone.

He hugged you close, burying his face into your neck. “I’m sorry, darling.” He spoke into your neck. “I’m sorry for driving you away.”

You only shook your head, not being able to stop smiling. “It wasn’t your fault.” You assured him, and he took a deep breath, getting ready to speak again.

But before he could get another word out, another voice cut in from behind you.

“No, it was mine.”

You instantly recognized the voice of Tommy, breaking apart from your dad and turning around to face him with wide eyes.

“I owe you both an apology for my way of acting all those years ago, but you more so than anyone, (Y/N).” He admitted calmly. “I was wrong about you and your family and I understand it will take time for everything to get back to normal, but will you forgive me?”

You looked at him for a moment, shocked. You knew an apology had be bound to come sooner or later, but you hadn’t expected it to come this soon and this easy, because Tommy was everything but easy.

But you quickly shook yourself back to reality, a smile rising to your lips. “Of course.” You said. “The past is in the past. I’m just happy you’re all alive and well.”

He smiled back, a wide and genuine smile, and much to yours and probably everyone’s surprise, you met each other in an embrace.

“Thank you for taking care of him.” Tommy mumbled into your hair, but you could only shake your head slightly.

“He’s the one who took care of us.”

You smiled and he squeezed you tight before the two of you broke apart to the sound of howling laughter and your daughter yelling out at the top of her lungs.

“Mommy, mommy, look at me!” Nelly yelled, pulling at your attention. “I’m taller than you now!”

Your head turned in the direction of her voice, and you found her sitting on Arthur’s shoulders, Arthur jumping around like an absolute mad man.

“Oh, God.” You and Polly swore in unison, watching the scene unfold before you with worry settling in your stomachs.

Finn was laughing along with his and your brothers, bouncing Ines on his hip, but he still shook his head, watching his brother and daughter with a careful eye.

"Please don’t drop her.” He begged, and Arthur instantly whipped around to face him, Nelly letting out another gleeful laugh at the quick movements and holding on to her uncle’s head for dear life.

“Have you no faith in me, brother?” Arthur yelled back, but Finn didn’t get the time to answer, because the second after those words had left his lips, he stumbled on the stairs and went falling to the ground.

You yelled out in fright, but John luckily caught Nelly before Arthur hit the gravel, and everyone erupted into laughter while you had to grab at your chest in order to calm your beating heart, taking a moment to calm down before rushing forward to tell your daughters playtime was over until they got inside.

Everyone was laughing and some still crying, everyone was hugging, some reuniting and others meeting for the first time.

But there was no guilt in your body upon seeing your family again like you would have thought because you realized quickly that they understood why you had run away in the first place, that Isaiah hadn’t been lying when he said everything was fine and that it had been safe to return and finally get your happily ever after.

Tagged: @joebob15274

#finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby fanfic #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcannon #tommy shelby #polly gray #isaiah jesus #Arthur Shelby #John Shelby #michael gray

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oh-theres-a-woman · 4 years

Text

Flowers in a Peaked Cap; Part One

A/N: Heres to attempt two at writing this author’s note… Let’s just say, I haven’t perfected the art of saving drafts. Note to self to actually find out how to make the draft before losing three solid paragraphs of rambling about the story… Sophie Points; Nil. Laptop/Internet Points; One. Welp, honestly internet and laptop have won a hell of a lot more than that. Just don’t remember how many times I’ve lost work because of not quite understanding how to post on here…. Safe to say I’m still a noob.

Any hoot! Enough rambling about that stuff.

After posting the first piece to this story; in the very very early hours of this morning. I couldn’t help but feel the massive urge to continue and work on the more of Tillie’s little adventure. It made me want to think about her as a person outside the relatives that we already know. What this girl’s goals are and ambitions. Unlike the rest of her family, I think she has a relatable amount of vulnerability and anxieties that are more from society’s working in the 1920s compared to her brothers; Arthur, Thomas and John that all suffer war-related mental illness and scars.

Actively she’s a romantic escapist that wants to make her brothers and aunt proud. Making a name for herself in the means of writing and exploring the tales that are brewed from the memories of old days.

In the progression of this story, I want to be able to explore the growth in Tillie as a young woman. The stepping out of her brothers’ shadows and coming into her own. Growing into a more confident young woman that could be from meeting new people like in this chapter and moving away from her fears.

I do see romance in this story, something like and full of all the trend first experience one faces at one stage or another. In terms of smut, I’d think it’s lighter and would be something that is worked towards. Tillie to me doesn’t seem rather lust-driven. So, it’ll happen if it does, and if not; its simply because Tillie Shelby isn’t interested in that sort of thing.

Important note; I’ll be working on organising the Taglist a little more throughout my next few posts. Please notify me if you’re interested in anything specifically and want tags there or if you mind just being on the general tag list and included in every story I post. Thank you!!!

Requested By; @csigeoblue

Parts; [ Prologue ]

Taglist; @zodiyack, @itsfrancisneptun, @amys-small-world, @fandom-fucking-shit, @hesagod-notyet, @hinagiku0, @dylanlover24, @amirahiddleston, @a-dorky-book-keeper, @theamuz, @csigeoblue, @smallheathgangsters, @beautycinders

Word Count; 1400

Watery Lane wasn’t the play that supported the wild fantasy’s of Tillie Shelby, but the little bookshop that was filled with many hopefuls or lads that were born a little more well off collectively grouped together. Reading the stories they wrote. This gathering was apparently one that caught the attention of the paper since the known publishers and well-off lads from another book club around England had found themselves doing a sort of travel for their source material.

Since the profile of this club of prolific writers had taken interest in the area of Small Heath and its inhabitants. Inviting upstart writers or aspiring tellers to come and meet them. So, onward the youngest Shelby strolled until she pulled open the door of the quaint little bookshop. The signal of her arrival was the sound of her kitten heels and the ringing of the bell on the door. Doe-like blue eyes that were like the crystal-clarity of the purest of water found themselves settling on a group of well-dressed gentlemen. Her eyes flicker between some faces she knew of Small Heath, most of them being the arseholes she went to school with and thought themselves privy to a better life.

It wasn’t that Tillie didn’t believe they weren’t welcome to it. Mostly, it was the way they treated people in order to get there the young woman didn’t quite agree with. She was rather foolish coming to her though since her brother’s had a very vision about how the Shelby family should be seen. Their measures to getting things done with it were also less than admirable. Perhaps, it was the fact that Billy Bronson, James Fitz and Joe Gilbert made hers and Finn’s school life a living hell one way or another. But, it also made it seem extremely unfair to talk to their older brothers about what happened. Since most knew better than to fuck with the kin of the Peaky Blinders.

Plooms of cigarette smoke clouded in the air, filling the bookstore with a spiced herbal infusion and rippled tailored sticks of tobacco. Moving her gaze from the lads she knew; to the new arrivals. The youngest of the Shelby mob offered a little smile. “Is there room for one more?” Tillie finally spoke up, pulling her book that contained the novel she had poured hours and hours over. Smiling hopefully. Arms hugging the expensive leather made book that her brothers banded together in the hopes for a lovely birthday present in the days before the war.

Hoping that she’d fill in with various things she enjoyed to draw, but instead, Tillie hadn’t touched it until she was old enough to respect things. Asking Aunt Pol to help her keep in a safe place until then. Scraps of paper were best for sketches in any case.

Eyes ever hopeful looked at the posher sort, some seemed wary until a certain collared lad smiled and offered a little nod then the place he’d been sitting. Away from the boys that seemed to make life a little more bothersome. “Thank you,” she whispered, settling down in the seat. Resting the book down on her lap before looking to the other lads who straightened their composure.

“We were all about to introduce ourselves since we’ve never travelled outside of London for such a meeting before. Yet, it seemed like a brilliant idea when bought up. Birmingham seemed like the best place, so raw and thrilling. Small Heath alone.” Spoke finally a lad in a handsome waist-coat, the colouring of coal, stiff collar and matching suit made her think of it being something her brother; Tom would wear. Only on the best occasions, or when he was dressing-to-impress. Unlike Thomas, this lad had handsome hazel eyes, the slightest tan to his skin like he enjoyed the frolicking on the beach. His name was Walter, but everyone called him, Walt.

“Even the presence of criminal activity and organisations like the Peaky Blinders, it does make the area a prize for writing. Wouldn’t you agree, lads,” spoke up for eccentric Norman, who took delight in the thing that only made Tillie smile in a measure of great awkwardness. The name seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and there was a measure of awkwardness for that. “Sorry, miss, I didn’t quite mean to be so rude, it’s just you don’t seem the sort to know much on that end, too kind and pretty, huh?” Norm covered himself for any form of rudeness that could have been interpreted.

Only causing a polite little lowering of her head, as her hands wrapped anxiously around her book’s spine. Before relaxing at the conversation drifting off elsewhere. Sobering to the notion that the following cough from Joe Gilbert had goosebumps appearing on her arms. Causing a vast amount of discomfort in the young woman. Tillie traded glances with the nicer of the Londoner’s; Robert. Whom quickly coughed to get things back on track.

“In any case, back to the introductions. We shouldn’t dwell too long on the story topics if we’ve lacked the proper course of introduction. Shall I start?” Robert spoke up, settled against set up for the purpose of meetings. “My name is Robert Augustine, myself and these other gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the others in the group of London lads.

“Are from a collective of young men that wish to write and publish arts. Never before have we had a lady join us, but surely in this modern world we’d be able to welcome the bright minds of femininity amongst us. After all, lady authors are blooming into the publishing world more and more with each generation.” His words seemed to still the anxiousness within her soul at the agreement of his other companions. Looking forward to seeing a hand extended to her, Robert allowed her to stand. The mix of coarseness and softness met between the two palms meet.

Holding her book, Tillie looked down smiling a little at her feet. Hugging her book to her chest, like it was the most precious thing to her. That was… Because it truly was the thing that held so much value to her heart. Her right hand still gently in the hold of the Londoner, cheeks lightly warming. “I’m Tillie Shelby, and I like to write about my brothers, their stories before the war. When we were kids,” she lit up sweetly talking of her brothers. Her hand and Robert’s naturally finding it parting, before he settled in his spot by the desk. Arms folding at his chest with a little smile.

“Would you be willing to share any of those stories?” Robert asked in a light voice. Tillie could only think of one response.

“Would I ever,” she beamed with a presence that seemed to warm the room and the quiet little shop around them. Settling down into her seat once more, she didn’t think about when the others were introducing themselves. Instead, she found herself lost within stories. The more whimsical tales of lads that laughed and partied. Or the ones that filled with a warmth that made her think of the family that suppressed or lost who they were before the war. Among them, none had known those woes and horrors.

They’d seen things happen on the outside. Felt the absence of a brother, father, uncle or grandfather that either died or lost what kept to their memory that their younger-selves recalled. Tillie was young then. Merely a baby in some regard. But she couldn’t ever forget the days of laughter, wherein night terrors; her heroes would just come up and curl into the undersized cot she called a bed. Soothing their fingers along with the softness of infant or child hairs–that had yet to understand dryness or damage.

When business didn’t entirely rule the Shelby family but happened in the background. Those were her tales. The tales of rawness and loss from a different scene. Where her brothers; the men who took over the role of an absent father, became; fathers, uncles, older brothers and best friends. And… Pol became the only mother she ever knew and remembered. Her voice spoke of the volumes to family values and how terrible things broke people. Yet, she never uttered their names aloud.

Only recording them within her mind when she read the tales that meant something to one of her brothers. Art. Tom. John.

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panda-noosh · 4 years

Text

welcome to my world {finn shelby x reader}

Words: 7.5k

Summary: Falling in love with a Shelby boy has dire consequences.

Genre: angst

Warnings: graphic depictions of death, drug use, blood.

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions!

---

Sometimes Finn doesn’t want to live in the world he lives in.

Sometimes he thinks it would be ten times easier if he was just a normal kid, someone who could go to school and complain about exams, hold hands with people under the table, wind teachers up by never being quiet.

Sometimes, Finn thinks his life is a bit of a curse.

And it was like that for years. He wasn’t in the war, has never experienced the same PTSD as his older brothers, but he still wakes up in the middle of the night, cold sweat dripping, bare skin clinging to freshly washed sheets. He still sleeps lighter than air, just in case someone sneaks into his room; he needs to be able to hear them. He needs to be ready for when someone wants him dead.

He’s fully aware he shouldn’t be living like this, of course. To any normal human being, this description of life would be seen as ludicrous, dangerous, child abuse.

You just thought it was interesting.

Maybe that’s why Finn was so drawn to you in the first place - you never looked at him with pity, but you never looked at him like he was some kind of hero, either. You didn’t look at the guns strapped to his waist and say Wow, what a handsome, buff man. You looked at the guns strapped to his waist and said hm, that’s odd, i wonder what that’s for and that’s what really won Finn over.

He hates the term. Won him over, as if he’s some prize that’s been left hanging on the rack for a week or a month or a year too long. He was never waiting, he was never a prize, he was never hopeful. In fact, Finn never once convinced himself that he would ever sleep with anyone besides whores for the rest of his life - Tommy would simply not allow it, Finn would simply not allow it, the world would simply not allow it.

But then he met you, sitting at that table one day with your textbook open and your hair ruffled and that pen dangling from those lips that Finn immediately saw as impeccable, but was too shy to say anything. Tommy had told him to tell you off for taking up a table without a drink, and that was exactly what Finn planned on doing; in the end, he’d ended up sitting with you, sharing his whiskey as you talked him through a passage you were reading for some class you were interested in. You ended up dropping it a few weeks later, picking up something new, an experience Finn has never had but admired anyway.

“You’re just free to do whatever you want,” Finn remembers saying to you one evening after hastily sneaking out the back to see you; John was working that night, and he didn’t want his older brother to notice anything strange.

You had shrugged, sitting idly against the wall, legs outstretched in front of you. Finn had one foot on top of your own, tilting your foot back and forth and back and forth, a lazy action that meant nothing but everything at the same time.

“I think everyone’s free to do what they want,” had been your response, and then you had both gone quiet, and Finn remembers holding back a laugh because the mere idea of him ever having that kind of freedom was just so… bizarre, so far out of reach it was almost laughable to think he could ever possibly make it to that point.

But the freedom had come in tiny flashes. He got the night off from The Garrison, and he spent it with you. Tommy let him take one of his pistols, and Finn had shown you how to use it, watched you squeal and throw it to the floor, had rubbed your shoulder when you complained about the kickback hurting your muscles.

He was finally getting the freedom he’d always desired, and he was spending it with you.

Bizarre.

Now, he sits in the back of an abandoned wagon, head leaning against the wooden panel. Your arm is pressed against his, the cold air having nothing against the warmth your mere presence brings him; he has long since stripped off his checkered jacket and draped it over your shoulders, but he feels totally fine.

You have your head leaned back, staring up at the afternoon sky. Around you, people bustle back and forth, doing double takes when they see the Finn Shelby sitting oh-so-casually in a wagon with a person nobody knows the name of.

“You never told me how your day went today.”

Finn cracks open an eye, glances over at you, does his usual thing of ignoring the little jump of his heart. “I didn’t do much.”

“Liar.”

Finn raises a brow. “What makes you say that?”

You don’t even look away from the clouds when you answer, though there’s a small dopey grin on your face. “Finn Shelby never just doesn’t do much. You’re always up to something.”

Finn scoffs. “Not today. I woke up, had breakfast, had a wank-”

“Lovely.”

“And now I’m here.” He nudges your arm. “With you. What more could you fucking want?”

You grin, and Finn blushes. “That is the question, Mr Shelby, that is the question.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“How has your day been so far?”

Your grin fades, morphing into a frown that has Finn leaning forward and inspecting your expression with a raised brow. You finally look at him, roll your eyes and shove him just a little bit, just enough to jostle the wagon, just enough to make a bit of laughter erupt from his mouth.

“Why do you look so confused?” he asks, louder than he meant to, but you make him excited.

“I’m not confused!” you protest. “I just can’t think of anything to tell you - I didn’t do much today.”

“Did you wake up this morning?”

“Yes…”

Finn sighs as if in content, leaning back with his hands threaded behind his head. “Good. That’s what I like to fucking hear.”

You roll your eyes, but that grin is back on your face and it makes Finn want to kiss you.

So he does.

There’s that other little sliver of freedom he’s allowed himself recently, the sliver of freedom Tommy would never approve of, but Finn has lost the ability to care when it comes to other people’s thoughts about you. Tommy wants Finn to be with someone powerful, someone who benefits him and the business - Finn, honestly, is content just sitting in a wagon with you by his side as you wait for your exams to happen, as you chew a pencil and study.

You smile against the kiss, that adorable smile Finn loves so much. He laughs at the feel of it, breaking the kiss immediately, though as soon as he feels you pull away, he mumbles a “No, wait,” before pulling you back by the jaw and kissing you again, and again, and again until you’re both giggling too much to continue.

“Your breath tastes like whiskey,” you say.

Finn shivers. “The word taste coming out of your mouth-”

“Finn!”

He smiles. “Kidding.” A pause. “But not really.”

And that’s how the two of you stay for the remainder of the afternoon, talking and laughing and kissing and teasing until the sun is falling down over the mountains and the moon is starting it’s slow ascent into the sky. Finn knows Tommy will be looking for him - hell, he’s been out so long that all of his brothers - maybe even Ada - will be looking for him, but as he helps you out of the wagon and pulls you in for a final goodbye kiss, he can’t find it in him to care.

----

Finn hates family meetings.

He used to complain when he wasn’t a part of them, but now he envies his little seven year old self, being able to sit in the back room and mind his own business while his older brothers and dear Aunt Polly dealt with the Big Kid Stuff. Now, he’s forced to sit in these uncomfortable chairs, sip whiskey, inhale smoke as his brothers rant and rave about some person, or some organisation, or some deal that he really does not give a fuck about.

He does that now. Arthur had called him in to the meeting room only a few minutes before, and already Finn is craving his second glass of whiskey; alcohol, it seems, is the only thing capable of getting him through these oh-so-important meetings without reaching into his belt and pulling a gun on everyone in the room.

Tommy stands at the head of the long board table, fingers clawed against the oak. Finn would laugh at the sight if he had a death wish, but he doesn’t, because he’s going to see you tonight. He’ll keep his description of Tommy’s Serious Face in the back of his head for later, because he knows you’ll enjoy it.

“It was a genuine threat,” Arthur says. Finn’s been counting - this is the seventh time Arthur has said that. “A genuine, real life fucking threat. Do they have any idea who they’re messing with?”

“I’m sure they do,” Polly replies. “They think they’re better than us. They think they’re bigger. They think they’ve got what it takes-”

“We know fuck all about them,” John cuts in. “What if they have got what it takes?”

“Nobody in Birmingham’s got what we’ve got,” says Arthur. “We know that for a fact.”

Finn sips his whiskey.

Tommy stays quiet. It’s never good when Tommy stays quiet.

Finn listens to his family talk, but he doesn’t really know what they’re talking about - he hasn’t seen this threat, hasn’t been told what this threat is, and he doesn’t care enough to ask. He won’t be allowed to do anything about it anyway, so what’s the point?

“If it comes down to it, are we willing to waste resources on these people?” Polly asks. Finn knows what she means by ‘waste resources’ - ammunition. Are they willing to kill.

“I think so,” says Arthur. “I don’t see another way around it if they do what they say they’re gonna do.”

“I agree,” John replies, taking a swig of his whiskey. “Kill ‘em all.”

Polly slowly turns her head towards Tommy, takes a puff of her pipe and says, “And what says you, O Great One?”

Tommy inhales. His shoulders move, bunching up to his ears before he lets them drop and pushes away from the table. “We’ll see what happens.”

The room goes quiet. Thomas Shelby, the man who usually has a plan laid out years in advance, is talking about just seeing what happens. Finn glances around at the rest of his family to see they are all sharing similar looks of confusion - this just isn’t right.

“Sorry, mate?” John says, cutting through the silence.

Tommy doesn’t turn around, continues looking out the window with his hands behind his back. “We’ll see what happens, and go from there.”

“See what happens?” Polly shakes her head, placing her pipe on the table with a clatter. “Tommy, these fucking idiots could show up at our door any minute now, and you’re prepared to just see what happens?”

“If you want to go and sort it out on your own, Polly, be my guest.”

Polly’s eyes are wide, snapping from Tommy to the rest of the table, silently asking for a backup nobody can give her, because nobody expected this, either.

“Oh, great,” she finally says. “We’re all fucking dead then, are we?”

Finn leans forward and timidly says, “What exactly was this threat?”

“Who the fuck let him in?” Arthur demands.

Finn reels back. “Fuck you, Arthur.”

“This isn’t the type of conversation you need to be involved with,” Polly says to him.

Finn’s stomach curls; of course, he’s heard this all before. He used to hear it all the time, never being let through the doors of the meeting room, and sure, sometimes he hates being left out, but god, when how unwelcome he is is put so bluntly, he just wants to punch something.

Instead, he stands up. His chair screeches, and Tommy says, “Finn,” but doesn’t even do anything to stop him, and that on it’s own is enough for Finn to get the hint. He downs his whiskey, slams the glass back down on the table and storms out of the room, making sure to create as much noise as possible on his way out.

Fuck them. Fuck all of them and their high opinions of themselves; Finn is grateful he never inherited such a toxic trait. In fact, he would even go as far as to say he’s jealous of his older sister for managing to get out of this shit hole ordeal whilst she could.

He finds himself at your door before he even realises where his final destination is. One minute he’s storming through the streets of Birmingham, and the next minute he’s sat on your sofa, tucked under your arm with your hands messing with his hair and the sound of your voice soothing him into something close to peace - as close to peace as a Shelby boy can get.

“Tell me what happened,” you whisper. You’re tired. He woke you up by knocking on the door, and he had apologised but he hadn’t offered to leave, because he took one look at you in your night clothes and he knew then and there that he would not be leaving your doorstep unless you asked him to.

And of course you never asked him to.

So Finn retells the story, and he curses his brothers, and he curses his life and his family and this job he was involuntarily sucked into. You listen, humming when need be, and the noise reverberates through your collar bone, tickles Finn’s cheek and soothes him further, until the story is melting from his mouth and not so difficult to put into words.

When it’s over, you press a kiss to the top of his head. Just a small one, one he barely feels but it’s perfect nonetheless.

“Fuck them,” you whisper into his hair. “You can offer so much, Finn. It’s them suffering by excluding you like that.”

He closes his eyes, nuzzles his nose into your neck. He isn’t completely convinced you’re telling the truth, but the fact that you’re lying because you love him is enough to comfort him, anyway.

“Do you want to go to sleep?” you ask.

“Do you?”

“I’ll wait till you fall asleep.”

He tightens his grip on you, pulling your legs across his lap. “I’ll wait till you fall asleep.”

You giggle, curling a strand of his hair around your finger. “Then we’re both staying awake, aren’t we?”

Finn kisses your neck. “Fine by me.”

----

“Why are your parents never home?”

Finn asks the question over breakfast the next day. In front of him sits a plate of bacon and beans, a stack of bread piled in the centre of the table. You are stood up, arms folded over your chest because you have never enjoyed sitting still; Finn looks up at you, mouth full of breakfast, and he watches you shrug as you tear a piece of bread in half.

“They’re busy,” you reply.

“With what?”

“Work.”

“What do they do for a living?” Finn never thought about it before, but now he thinks it’s kind of strange how he’s been in love with you for so long and has yet to find out what jobs your parents have.

You shrug. “All sorts. Business deals. Selling stuff.”

Three different answers.

Finn frowns. He stares at you a second longer before you sigh, clap your hands together to rid them of crumbs, and start back towards the kitchen. “Do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m alright.” He picks his plate up and follows you, placing the plate in the sink before he presses his palms against the counter, encompassing you in his arms. You spin, grin when he pecks your lips before he says, “What are you so afraid of?”

The question clearly startles you, as your eyes widen and you pull back as far as Finn’s make-shift cage will allow. He raises a brow, tilts his head to the side in a silent plea for you to tell him the truth, because you’re the love of his life, and all he wants from you is honesty, something he has never received from anyone else.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” you reply. “I don’t even fully understand what it is my parents do, Finn. I’m not lying to you.”

“Do you see much of them?”

“I see them around.” You shrug, reaching up to pluck at Finn’s shirt. “They’re more like roommates than they are parents - and I’m perfectly fine with that.”

Finn frowns, but decides to push it no further. There’s so much he wants to ask, but he can see you’re slightly uncomfortable, can feel your arms tensing against him. Slowly he peels away from you, nods and says, “Alright then,” ending the conversation before he really wants to, before he really thinks he should, because he’s so used to seeing you carefree, minding your own business - but something about this line of conversation has clearly bothered you, and it puts him on edge.

Nonetheless, the two of you spend the rest of the morning together with little to no tension. You read some passages from your book to him, and he stared at you as you spoke. He told you stories about his brothers and his sister and his life, and you stared at him as he spoke. Neither of you got dressed, simply lounged around in pyjamas until it was time for Finn to say goodbye, and even then the farewells lasted far too long; Finn didn’t want to leave. He never wants to leave. He gives you a kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the nose, a kiss on the forehead, a kiss on the lips before he finally turns and heads home, carrying what feels like the weight of the world on his shoulders.

----

Finn knows something is wrong from the moment he walks downstairs.

It’s been a few days since he stormed out of the meeting room, but things seem to be solved; nobody has brought it up, too busy fretting over threats and business to pay any attention to Finn’s childishness. He walks downstairs and pretends everything is fine, but it is then he notices his families stricken faces.

Tommy isn’t there.

Polly looks up from the page laying in front of her. She meets Finn’s eyes, takes a puff of her cigarette and says, “The bastards made their move.”

At first, Finn is confused. He raises a puzzled brow before things start clamouring together and he’s struck with a feeling of understanding - he doesn’t know the full story, but he doesn’t need to know the full story.

“Who got hurt?” Finn asks, bustling around to Arthur’s side to glance at the page - a note, written in messy handwriting, detailing Tommy’s death. “Is Tommy alright? Fucking hell, Pol, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tommy’s fine,” Arthur replies. He sounds drunk, maybe a little high. “It’s the other bastards who aren’t. Tommy’s got them locked in the basement as we speak.”

Finn straightens up. “No fucking way. How did he get them in so quick?”

“Did you even read the letter?” John spits. “The idiots fucking threatened Grace. Tommy wasn’t wasting a god damn second.”

Oh. Then it makes sense. It’s one thing threatening Thomas Shelby himself, but the moment you bring his loved ones into it, all hell will be broken loose and there is nothing but revenge that can bring it back.

Finn feels a little empty and he doesn’t even know why; this kind of thing happens all the time. His brothers came out of the war seeing red, seeing danger as a thing worth walking towards. For all of Finn’s life, he’s been trained to think in the same way as loved ones of police, or firemen, or soldiers - you love them, but there’s never any guarantee they’ll come home.

Sometimes, though, hearing of Tommy’s anger is scary. It’s off putting, and it doesn’t matter how long Finn has been around it, has witnessed it for himself, it never gets any easier.

“Where is he?” Finn finds himself asking, though he doesn’t know why - it’s not like his brothers will let him go and see what is happening. They never do.

John takes a swig of whiskey and shakes his head. “The crazy bastard went down to speak to them on his own. Wouldn’t let any of us go with him.”

“He’s got a death wish,” Polly adds. “I didn’t even see a pistol on his waist when he walked out. He was too caught up in his own fucking head.”

“What’s bloody new?” Arthur spits. “God, sometimes I just wanna rattle him.”

Finn shakes his head. “He can’t go down there without anything on him.”

“But that’s what he’s done.”

“So we should do something.” Before he can think better of it, Finn snatches Tommy’s pistol from the table and clips it to his belt. He turns on his heel, starts towards the door-

And of course, John’s hand clamps down on his shoulder before he can get very far. “Don’t be fucking stupid, Finny Boy.”

Finn knew he would never get very far. His brothers love him too much. They’re harsh, and they curse, and they make him feel like shit but he would be lying to claim they didn’t love him - they just showed it in the most frustrating of ways.

Finn hollows out his cheeks, shrugging John’s hand from his shoulder. “Fine. Let him die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Arthur says, throwing his head back. “He’s going to be fine. He’s Tommy.”

“You lot are stupid for thinking he’s invincible,” says Polly.

Arthur shrugs as if to say What else is there to believe?

----

Finn gets his chance a few hours later, after everyone has gone to bed and the house is quiet.

He’d drank only a little bit. A glass of whiskey, maybe two, but he’s certain there was a drop of water taken in at some point in between, so he doesn’t really count himself as drunk. His head is just… somewhere else, on fire in a heap somewhere. That’s why he sits up and waits for the sound of Tommy’s office door closing, waits for the usual sound of his older brothers pacing before it abruptly stops, and Finn knows Tommy is inhaling his sleeping pills and will be out like a light within a few minutes.

As soon as the pacing stops, Finn jumps out of bed and heads down to the basement.

He’s been in here before, but he never enjoyed it. The stench of sweat is suffocating, mixing in with alcohol that Finn is fairly certain isn’t even legal in most places. The wooden floor creaks beneath his feet. One of the lights in the hallway blinks and then breaks, shattering glass over him. He wipes it away and continues walking until he reaches the very last rooms.

There’s three of them currently in use. Finn knows this by the way the doors are tightly shut, though they’re not locked. Tommy likes giving his prisoners that temptation, the ease of escaping; it’s the fear that keeps them locked in there. If they want to leave, they can be his guest - it’ll be them crawling to reach the exit by the time they get to surface level.

Finn turns the handle of the first door and pushes it open. The room is dark, but he flicks the light on when he steps inside and is immediately greeted by the sight of a middle aged man slumped over in a chair placed in the centre of the room. Blood dribbles from one of his eye sockets, and it’s only upon closer inspection does Finn realise that where once an eyeball should have been is now nothing.

He doesn’t flinch away. This is only light punishment, he knows.

The man looks mildly familiar - a square jaw, hair going grey from either stress or old age, wearing clothes that once may have looked expensive but are now tattered and torn, hanging from his limp frame.

Finn closes the door and takes another step forward. His shoe skids against the concrete, startling the man enough for him to look up.

Finn grits his teeth. “That eye looks bad.”

“Get out,” the man pants. “Get out and let me die.”

And Finn is tempted to do just that - in reality, he doesn’t even know why he’s here in the first place. He should have stayed in bed, maybe snuck out to see you.

Instead he steps forward, just close enough to reach out and brush his hands through the mans hair. He pulls his head back to inspect the damage, baring the mans throat; it’s soaked in blood, but Finn can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from. “You shouldn’t have fucked with Thomas Shelby.”

The man snorts. Blood runs from his nostril. “He’s got my family.”

Finn pauses. “Your family?”

“He took them. My kid, my wife. He took them both away because of the letter I sent. I don’t know where they are.”

The other two closed - but not locked - doors. Finn glances over his shoulder, bites his bottom lip - he really shouldn’t be playing into this. He should be leaving, going back to his room and pretending this never happened.

He turns back to the man. “Did he tell you what he was going to do to them?”

“I can only imagine the worst.”

“Tommy isn’t a rapist.”

The man smiles. Blood coats his teeth. “That’s what they all say.”

Finn steps back, releasing the mans head. His chin crashes into his chest, his strength depleted to the point where he can’t even hold his own neck up.

“Please spare them,” the man whispers into his own sternum. “Please. Kill me, but spare them. My child - My child has so much potential.”

Finn takes another step back. “I don’t control what Tommy does.”

“Of course you don’t.” The man coughs. Blood splatters his chest. “He’s got all of you wrapped around his finger. He’s got you all bent to his every fucking will, doesn’t he?”

“Shut your god damn mouth or I’ll end your family myself.” The words are sour, but he was taught to fight past the bitterness.

The man groans. It’s a sound Finn has always associated with the end of life, a desperate noise. He takes a final step back, wraps his hand around the handle, makes to leave-

“Karma will get you, boy.”

Finn closes his eyes and steps out of the room. That’s something he’s heard far too many times - he doesn’t understand why it still bothers him so.

Once the door is closed - closed, but not locked - Finn leans against the far wall and glances at the two remaining rooms. Again, he tells himself this is a bad idea. If anyone were to come down and see him standing there, he would be in so much trouble.

But he steps towards the first door and opens it up, because he feels like he should. He doesn’t owe that man anything, of course; it’s the man who threatened his family, who threatened Tommy’s wife, who doesn’t know his place in a time when it is most important to know exactly where you stand. Finn shouldn’t feel the need to do anything for him.

But it’s really his own curiosity that drives him to it. He pushes open the door, turns on the light-

And god, he should have just gone upstairs.

Because there you are, head up, eyes alert in the way your fathers weren’t. You see Finn enter the room, and he hears you breaking into sobs almost immediately, and he panics. He panics so much, a leap in his heart that leaves him feeling breathless because he can feel the pull of his world as it is ripped apart completely.

“No.”

The word falls from his lips, useless.

“No, Y/N, no.”

“I didn’t think it was you,” you cry out. “Oh, Finn, I didn’t think-”

He throws himself next to your chair, pulls on the handcuffs that he knows he will not have any chance of opening without a key. Your stuck to the chair, waiting for your death, and you’re in Finn’s basement, and you’re the love of Finn’s life and he can’t do anything.

You’re sobbing so loudly now that Finn is certain one of his brothers will hear, will come down to get you to shut up, and they’ll see him and know everything. The punishment will be ten times worse - you, the person Finn has been ditching work to go see. You, the person who has got in the way of Finn dedicating his entire life to a cause he should have known he would be stuck in from day one.

“Get out of here,” you demand through your sobs. Finn clambers to his feet, and your fingers reach out as far as they can, latch onto the sleeve of his coat even though you’ve just told him to leave. “Finn, is my dad alive?”

“He’s alive,” Finn croaks out, because it’s not really a lie.

You close your eyes, biting your lower lip. Finn wants to kiss you so badly. He wants to hug you and hold you and drag you to a safe place he can’t quite think of right now, but is determined to figure out as soon as he possibly can.

“He messed up so bad,” you whisper. “One of the men - your men - told me my dad had sent a letter to Tommy, and he mentioned his wife, and I didn’t want to believe it was your Tommy they were talking about, but-”

Finn drops to his knees and cups your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him through your tear-blurred eyes. “Listen to me, okay. I need you to calm down. Fucking calm down.”

“Finn, I’m gonna die here. They told me they were going to kill me.”

“They’re all talk.” The lie burns like acid crawling up his throat. “They won’t do anything. It’s your dad they’ve got the problem with.”

You whimper.

Finn leans his forehead against your own, gently stroking his thumbs along your cheeks. “I’ll talk to him, okay? Give me - Give me tonight. Can you stay in here for a night?”

You shake your head.

“Please,” Finn whispers. “A night. Tomorrow morning, everything will be sorted. I’ll make sure of it. Do you understand?”

You nuzzle your head a little more forcefully against his own. “Please don’t leave.”

Finn pats your cheeks and stands up, but it takes everything in him to do so. You look at him as he steps back, those pleading eyes breaking his heart, and he genuinely wonders what powers you have that have given you such a tight leash on Finn’s neck.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can be,” he promises. “I love you. I love you, and that’s why I have to leave.”

You purse your lips and nod. Finn recognises the look; you don’t really want him to leave, but you’ll agree because you love him back. You’re the first person in the world to truly, truly love him back, love him enough to let him go when he needs to go.

“I love you,” he repeats, and when you nod again, he turns and flees from the room, darting up the stairs to Tommy’s office.

He bursts in. Tommy, of course, is asleep, head tilted against his shoulder, a bottle of pills open on his bedside table alongside a half-drunk glass of whiskey. Finn doesn’t think about the consequences of waking Tommy up from a deep slumber - he’s in too deep by now. His panic has reached new levels, so it means nothing to him when he grabs Tommy’s quilt and rips it back.

Tommy’s hand is around his neck in seconds.

He’s slammed against the wall. Splinters dig into the thin fabric of his night shirt. His head throbs with the contact, and Tommy is snarling in his face like a lion about to feast on prey.

“It’s me,” Finn calls out, grabbing his brothers arms. “Fucking hell, Tommy, it’s me!”

Tommy reels back, grunting, running hands through his hair. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I could have killed you!”

“We need to talk.” Finn rubs his temples, waits for Tommy to turn, to give him his full attention.

Tommy downs the remainder of his whiskey. “Well? What is it?”

“You need to let those prisoners go.”

Tommy pauses. Finn expected nothing different, of course, because it is so rare for someone to question Tommy’s authority. His older brother stares at him like he’s just grown a second head, and all Finn can do is wait lest he rock the boat any further than he’s already done.

Tommy tilts his head. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“The prisoners,” Finn repeats, even though he knows that’s not really what Tommy is asking for. “At least the young one and the wife; they’re innocent, Tommy. They don’t deserve this.”

Tommy scoffs. He scoffs, and with the noise, Finn can feel every last hope of his dwindling into nothingness; Tommy won’t pay him any attention. Tommy will call him a wimp, call him weak, a coward, and that will be the end of the conversation.

But Finn is desperate. Never before has he been one hundred percent willing to beg for someone to listen to him, but god, he will gladly get on his knees and scream Tommy’s praises if it means budging his mindset even the tiniest bit right now.

“Tommy, please,” Finn says through gritted teeth. “Just this one time. For me. Please.”

Tommy raises a brow, and Finn knows he’s gone too far. He doesn’t care, though, not if it means giving you a chance.

“What’s this really about, Finn?” Tommy asks.

Finn looks to the floor. “For me, Tommy.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Part of Finn still wants to keep you a secret, even though he knows that’s not possible - not if he wants to give you a chance. So, with a deep breath to help ground him, Finn says, “I love them, Tommy. I love Y/N.”

Tommy takes a minute. It’s silent. Downstairs, Finn can hear Arthur rattling around in the bar, no doubt making himself another drink, another amongst many. In this room, Finn’s skin burns with Tommy’s gaze.

“What are you talking about?” Tommy says slowly.

“What you feel for Grace? Yeah, I feel that for Y/N. I have for a while now.”

That’s the flood gates opened, and Finn knows this - he’s just admitted to seeing you outside of Tommy’s knowledge, has just admitted to falling in love with you when he should have been falling in love with the family business.

Tommy is fully awake now. His eyes are alight, eyebrows raised. Veins pop from his arms, knuckles clenched as he tries his hardest not to draw back and punch his youngest brother - that won’t sound good to the people downstairs. That won’t fix the damage Finn has inflicted.

“Did you do any research?” Tommy suddenly spits.

“I didn’t - I didn’t know what their parents did, okay? I never asked!”

“Well why the fuck not?” Tommy groans, spins on his heel, runs his hands through his already bed-messed hair. “Isn’t this just fucking wonderful? Exactly what we need. What do you think I’ll be able to do?”

“Let Y/N go,” Finn suggests. “It’s their dad that’s done the damage. Y/N just wants to go home with her mum.”

Something ticks in Tommy’s jaw. “You’ve really fucked my plans up, Finny Boy.”

“I know. But I never ask you for fuck all, Tommy-”

Tommy whirls around. “And I never ask you for fuck all, either! The least you can do is treat my business with a bit of respect! You’re out there giving your dick to anyone who asks for it, and now you’ve fallen in love with some mobster gangs whore-”

Finn’s fist makes contact before he even realises he’s moved.

It’s the pain that gives it away, the pain suddenly cradling his wrist and his knuckles. And then he looks down, and Tommy is doubled over, sleeping pills making him too drowsy to do anything besides yell. Horror takes form in Finn’s stomach, and his jaw drops open, an apology leaping to the tip of his tongue, but then he remembers what Tommy said, and he can’t even bring himself to be sorry.

“Y/N isn’t a whore,” Finn pants.

Slowly Tommy uncurls. There is blood on his lip that he wipes away with the back of his hand, looks at it once before he nods and says, “Fair enough.”

“They aren’t,” Finn repeats. “Y/N loves me just as much as I love them.”

“I get it, Finn.”

“So let them go home. Punish whoever needs to be punished, but Y/N isn’t one of them.”

“Alright, Finn-”

“And I never ask you for anything, but just this once-”

“Alright Finn!”

Finn shuts up. Tommy pants. His eyes are dark and lowered, but they no longer hold the same fierceness they once did, which Finn takes as a good sign - maybe he’s calmed down. Maybe Tommy is seeing sense for once.

“Alright,” the older Shelby repeats, softer this time. “I just want you to tell me how you and Y/N became acquainted.”

“Why does that-”

Tommy holds up a hand. “Just tell me, Finn.”

And so Finn starts from the beginning. He describes seeing you that day, sitting in The Garrison with your study books scattered in front of you, how you hadn’t even looked up when Finn was stood over your table. He was meant to tell you to leave, but one look at your face and something inside him had stirred, and he sat down instead. That was the first conversation the two of you ever had, and Finn knew after the first few words that it wouldn’t be the last, he wouldn’t let it be the last.

“You were sneaking out?” Tommy says.

Finn nods.

Tommy sighs, running a hand down his face. “What if one of our enemies saw you? What the fuck would we have done then?”

“We were careful.”

“Have you fucked?”

Finn’s eyes snap up. “What-”

Tommy raises a hand. “You know what, I’ll save that line of questioning for later.”

Finn pauses. He isn’t sure where to go from here - if he pushes too hard, he might get on Tommy’s nerves and then there will be no way he’s getting what he wants. But he also hasn’t got a straight answer, and he doesn’t just want to leave without knowing the consequences that follow.

He awkwardly kicks at the ground and says, “So what are you gonna do?”

Tommy sighs. “You can release Y/N tonight, but the mother stays in there until tomorrow morning. The father…” His voice darkens. “I’ll handle him on my own.”

Finn barely even hears those last few words. He’s pushing himself away from the wall halfway through Tommy’s sentence, throwing open the door and dashing back down into the basement. He can hear his heart thumping in his chest. It hurts, a physical pain right at his collarbone, but he doesn’t slow down until he’s reached the basement.

And he sees your door is open.

He falters on the steps, hand pressed against the cold concrete wall. He hears nothing - no footsteps, no screaming, no voices. Your door is just propped open, a little sliver of light crawling out.

Footsteps sound behind him. “What are you doing?”

Finn leans back, bumping shoulders with Tommy as he gestures towards the door. “The door.”

“What the fuck?”

They all-but sprint down the hallway towards the door. Finn nearly slides, just barely managing to stop and swing himself into the room.

“Oh fuck, Finn, no-”

Tommy makes to grab for his arm, but it’s too late for that. Finn is already standing in the room, already standing in the little pool of blood, already frozen. The world is dribbling away around him. He can hear nothing, smell nothing, taste, see, feel nothing.

Because there he is. Arthur, his oldest brother, the person who used to tease him and protect him and make sure he had everything when it felt like he deserved nothing. He’s curled up in the corner of the room, an empty bottle of whiskey in his hand, a knife in his other. Cocaine coats his nose. He isn’t even conscious, probably doesn’t even know what he’s just done.

And it’s clear as day what he’s just done, because whilst Arthur Shelby is slumped in the corner, you are slumped in your room with your throat cut.

Finn isn’t sure if he screams, or if his voice breaks, or what he really does. One minute he has Tommy’s arms wrapping around his waist, trying to drag him out of the room, and the next Tommy is on the ground and he’s on his knees by your chair, grabbing your head and tilting it up so he can look into those lifeless eyes of yours.

And they didn’t used to be lifeless. It was only a few minutes before - a few minutes too long - that he’d been talking to you, and you were crying but you were alive and that was enough.

“No,” Finn chokes out. “Fuck, no, no, no, Tommy, do something!”

Tommy looks up from the floor, eyes immediately shifting to Arthur. “Finn, I’m so sorry.”

“No!” Finn punches the concrete floor, doesn’t even wince when his knuckles immediately open. “No! You said I could let them go. You said they could go home!”

Tommy looks away.

Finn falls to the floor again, scrambling forward to reach for your hand, nails coated in your own blood. He was so close, so fucking close to getting you home safely, just like he promised, just as he planned. But he was minutes too late, his brother having drank a few too many drinks, snorted a few too many lines.

It’s just so strange how an entire future can be wiped out in the space of a few minutes, all because of a few mistakes.

Finn’s hands are trembling when he finally stands up and unlocks your handcuffs. He feels like some kind of prison guard doing this, but he had no say in your imprisonment, had no choice, would have done everything in his god damn power to see you free again. But now he’s forced to scoop you from the chair, your head crashing against his shoulder, blood soaking his shirt almost see-through in two seconds flat. He closes his eyes, inhales and starts walking back up the stairs.

Tommy calls after him. Arthur stirs, groans, shouts “Ay, Tommy!” before the sound of someone hitting concrete follows Finn up the stairs. Finn makes a mental reminder to thank Tommy for doing the thing he is too occupied to do.

----

“You really loved them, didn’t you?”

Finn nods, plucks at the loose threads on his trousers. Grace sits beside him, her warm Irish accent soothing him, but not enough for him to fall asleep. Grace has never suffered with insomnia quite like Finn has been suffering since your death, but she’s been making an effort to make sure Finn isn’t alone when he can’t sleep, even if it does eat into her own sleeping time.

Finn appreciates it a little bit. Some nights he feels like he’d rather be alone, and some nights he craves your presence so much that sitting with Grace seems as close as he’s going to get, so he takes it anyway. It’s not the same, of course, but it’ll do - it’s all he has.

“Arthur’s sorry.”

“Arthur can fuck off.”

“Arthur can fuck off, I agree.” Grace sighs, places a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “But I think you need to remember that Y/N was the most carefree, forgiving person on this fucking planet, Finn. They wouldn’t want you holding this against him forever.”

This. As if that single word could ever mean anything, as if that single word was enough to describe the absolute horrors Arthur inflicted.

And yes, Arthur has apologised. Yes, Arthur has stopped drinking, and he’s stopped taking drugs, and he’s trying so hard to prove to Finn that he truly, deeply regrets what he’s done, but fuck him. Finn doesn’t have time for it. He’s done forgiving, done forgetting - he’ll live in forever misery if he wants to.

“Do you think you’ll ever be able to move on?”

“No.” The answer is instantaneous, doesn’t take a moments thought.

Grace nods like she understands. “Okay.”

Finn curls his fingers against his thighs, inhales deeply and takes another swig of his whiskey.

Another long night without you. He marks it off the calender.

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Burned Part 23

Summary: Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 23: Alfie’s plan goes into motion.

Alfie couldn’t ignore it any longer. He had started to avoid looking at mirrors. He really didn’t mind what he looked like, as long as he appeared intimidating to his foes. But he didn’t want to worry Louise and he didn’t want his son growing up and seeing him in such a state. It wasn't fair to either of them. Still, Teddy was a good distraction. Caring for him was never ending and Louise was hesitant to hire a nanny. Taking care of the newborn kept him in the present moment and allowed him to forget about what was ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

One morning, he found Louise burping Teddy in the parlor. “Morning, love.” Alfie kissed his wife and let Teddy grab a hold of his thumb. “Hello there, Teddy. You alright?” He murmured softly.

Louise smiled but it faded when she looked up at him. The progression of cancer was gradual but sometimes seeing it made her want to cry. It looked terribly painful and there was nothing she could do.

“Want me to take him?”

She nodded and handed the baby to Alfie. “How are you feeling today?”

“Can’t complain, living in paradise aren’t I?” He sat down near his wife and let Teddy rest on his chest. The baby looked so tiny compared to his broad shoulders.

Louise knew better than to press the matter. Her husband never liked to talk about his cancer. In fact, he was content to go weeks without speaking about it, if possible. Instead, he liked to focus on her and Teddy. It wasn't awful, but she didn't want him to ignore his own health.

“Can’t believe he only woke us up once last night.” Alfie chuckled and smoothed back his son’s feathery hair. Teddy curled his fists around Alfie’s shirt and rested his cheek down. “Must be a new record for him, innit?”

"It might be." She agreed softly with a smile. Alfie embraced fatherhood as if it were the best position he could ever hold. He never once complained about Teddy crying or fussing, even if it were in the middle of the night. He remarked on every little stepping-stone. How Teddy’s hair grew, how he started to recognize faces or the tiny smile he gave one afternoon.

But it still didn’t cancel out the worries he had for his future. What if Teddy’s first and only memory of Alfie was him wasting away? Being eaten alive by horrendous skin cancer? What sort of mental image was that for a young boy to have? Teddy reached up and placed a tiny hand over Alfie’s cheek. The man smiled sadly. “Yeah, mate, I know.” He sighed quietly. “Turning into a monster.”

Louise frowned. “Alfie…”

“S’alright, love.” He feigned an amused look. “Becoming the monsters everyone else sees, ain’t I?”

She stood and walked over to him. “That’s not true at all. You’re still the man I fell in love with.” She knelt in front of him and took the hand that wasn’t supporting Teddy. Her thumb brushed over some of the marks on his skin. “These don’t define you. Look.” She smiled at their son. “That defines you. Our son. You’re not a monster, you’re my husband, the man I love, and a perfect father.”

Alfie looked at Teddy who had dozed off. “Think it’s time to retire.” He said quietly and tugged her close.

Louise picked up Teddy and curled up on Alfie’s lap. He wrapped his arms around them both. “Do you want to or do you feel like you have to?” It made her happy to think about Alfie finally retiring. But she didn’t want him to feel forced into it.

“Nah.” He shook his head and glanced down at the tattoo on his hand. The one he'd gotten so many years ago after the War. A stupid boy who wanted power and reputation. Riches and luxury he never had growing up. How far he'd come from that man. “Getting too old for it, ain’t I?” He smiled and kissed her cheek. “Not the young man I used to be.”

“You’re not old.” She teased and nuzzled him close. “But I would love if you gave it all up if I’m being honest. Wouldn't have to worry about you being in danger anymore.”

“I know, love.” He stroked her hair. “I’ve got better things here.”

Louise cuddled Teddy close and smiled. But it faded quickly when she remembered the boxing match. “So what are you going to do?”

He thought about Luca’s visit to the bakery. It made his blood boil. That Italian had the nerve to threaten his family. It was a wonder that Alfie didn’t gun him down then and there. But Louise and Teddy were his priority. He would do anything to keep them safe, even if meant making a deal with the devil and turning against the Shelbys.

“Everything will be okay, love.” He murmured. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks after Teddy’s birth, Alfie reluctantly went to London to settle everything. He called Ollie to his office early in the morning before most of the other men had arrived at the bakery.

“Sir, you wanted to talk to me?” The young man knocked on the door before coming in.

“Yeah, mate, have a seat.” Alfie cleared his throat and took off his glasses.

“How’re Teddy and Louise?” Ollie asked with a smile.

“Good, good, both healthy.”

“Good to hear.” His assistant was pleased to see Alfie find his purpose in his new family. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I’m dying, Ollie.” The words were blunt and were a sharp turn from the joyful conversation about Teddy.

“Sir…” Ollie’s eyes furrowed. For a moment, he wasn't sure if he'd heard Alfie correctly.

“Mean, everyone’s dying. Just guess I’m dying a bit faster. Skin cancer.” He rubbed his eyes. “Doctor said I ain’t gonna make it past a few years. Not gonna see me son grow up.” Something stuck in his throat. "Just something I'm going to have to accept."

It was difficult to see the man facing such a tough diagnosis. For a long time, Ollie thought nothing could tear down Alfie Solomons. But he looked tired. Perhaps it was being a new father but maybe he’d just grown exhausted by the life he lived. “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?” He asked.

Alfie busied himself with absent-mindedly organizing his desk. Placing items in one place then moving them seconds later. “No. Just need to get everything in order in next few days.” He flipped open his planner and scanned the scrawling handwriting. A sad smile formed on his lips when he realized how much he missed Louise’s handwriting next to his. Missed the little notes she left him from time to time or the occasional heart she drew for him.

“The match is next week.” Ollie reminded him.

“It is. And Luca Changretta’s men will be there.”

“Sir?”

“You’ll stay at home. Stay with Shayna and the kids. I’ll be finding your family a place outside of London. Somewhere nice, you deserve it. Won’t hafta worry ‘bout money. I’ll be taking care of it even after I’m gone.”

Ollie was unnerved by the way his boss was talking. It was so unlike the man he knew very well. Obviously, something had caused a change in him. “Sir, what are you planning on doing?” He had no idea how he’d been involved with the American.

“Lou and I will be in Margate after the match. I’m retiring.” Alfie made his hands still even though he was still on edge. The end was quickly approaching and he wasn’t sure if he was ready. Had he taken care of everything properly? Would things turn out the way he wanted?

It was sudden news to Ollie. “You’re retiring? So what’ll happen to the firm?” He asked. It wouldn’t be an easy task liquidating the empire Alfie had built up in alcohol and on the track.

“Been talking to a few people, you won’t have to worry ‘bout it though.” He assured him. “I’ll handle it, best you’re not involved.”

“Thank you, sir.” He said quietly and took a deep breath. “End of an era then?”

Alfie chuckled. “S’pose it is, mate.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out the bottle of whiskey he kept there. He set the bottle in front of his assistant as a little gift. “Guess we can just sit back and watch those gypsy bastards fuck up Britain, aye?”

Ollie laughed and shook his head. “Will be quite the event to watch.” He agreed and took the bottle.

“It sure will.”

Alfie returned to Warwickshire a few days before the boxing match was to take place. There was electricity in the air everywhere he went. Something was sure to happen, he planned for it. But it was still hard to face the music at the end of the day.

Louise was standing on the front steps with Teddy in her arms. She was smiling warmly.

Alfie smiled and went to embrace her. His heart was racing and he hoped she couldn’t tell when she hugged him back. Teddy grabbed at Alfie’s shirt collar and held on as if he knew what was going to happen in just a matter of days. Alfie wished he could make them both understand why he was about to go through with such a plan. But no amount of words could explain it. Time was short. All he wanted to do was spend what time he had left with his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To say Alfie was nervous wasn’t exactly accurate. He was confident in his actions, but it was something he never thought he would do. But it had to be done. He was so tired.

Tommy turned into the locker room where Alfie was sitting. The Jewish man seemed guarded not that it was unusual. But he sat straight, his hands resting on his cane, shrouded in shadows by his hat and heavy coat.

“Yeah, you’re like me, Tommy, can’t bear to watch a fight that’s got so many rules.” Alfie heaved a sigh. The two men sat in silence for a moment. The sounds of the fight were muffled. The crowd roaring and shouting along with each blow.

“Tommy, imagine that you could not see at all.” Alfie glanced over at the Brummie. “That you was born blind.” When Tommy didn’t speak, he kept on. Maybe the man had learned to let Alfie ramble his way through his words until he was absolutely finished. “Then, one day, you open your eyes and you can see everything in the world. When before you could only hear it or touch it. There it is.” He raised his hand like a magician revealing a trick. “The revelation.”

Tommy’s icy blue eyes remained on him, not able to follow the man’s train of thought in the slightest. He could see the very obvious marks that riddled his skin. Whatever it was, Tommy had no clue; it seemed painful and aged the man a great deal.

“I’ve had one.” Alfie nodded and couldn’t help but smile a bit. “Teddy. S’got me eyes. The second he opened them, I asked myself…'Alfie, what are you doing?’ Really, I mean what are you doing? You’ve got a beautiful wife and now you’ve got this little boy. I mean for fuck’s sake, little bit can’t even hold his own head up on his own. You know, what if I just fucked off to Margate and never went back? Sold everything and just disappeared? Think ‘bout how happier Lou would be. Teddy wouldn’t ever have to grow up in the smoke of London.”

“Louise had the baby.” Tommy didn’t ask, merely stated the now obvious fact.

“She did, yeah.” Alfie ran a hand over his mouth. His heart ached to be back with his family. “He’ll be eight weeks on Monday. Will be waiting another week before we go to Margate. I need some time.” His eyes glazed over a bit as he stared at the wall in front of him. This was only stage-one of his plan. He only had another week. “Plus, the Americans are here. Big fucks small, aye? Always been like that. There is a fight out there between big and small. And big fucks small, always.” He tapped his cane on the ground and stood up with a grunt. “Right, Margate. Blue skies, heaven.” He turned and looked at the other man. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Tommy. By the pier.”

The Blinder was beyond suspicious at that point. Of course, Alfie Solomons was always up to something but the talk about retirement threw Tommy for a loop. It most likely meant he was going out with a bang. “Stay for the fight, Alfie.” His voice was tense.

“Nah, mate, I already know who wins, don’t I?” Alfie held up his glasses. “By the pier, Tommy.” He reminded him before heading out of the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was late when Alfie returned to Inglewood. He finished up clearing out the rest of the bakery. Instructing Ollie to dispose of the life he once had. Burning through the empire he’d built over so many years. He didn’t regret any bit of it.

There was a light still on upstairs. Louise sat in bed reading. She seemed content and at peace. Completely unaware of the chaos her husband had initiated and the last stand he planned.

“How did the match go?” She asked and marked her spot in the book before setting it aside.

“Left early. Not my cup of tea, innit?” He sighed and got changed for bed. “Quiet night?” It was heart-wrenching to just have pleasant small talk with her. He wanted to get down on his knees and confess all his sins to her, beg for forgiveness, and reminisce on everything she’d given him. He wanted to open his heart to her and tell her how much he treasured her. But that would only raise suspicions and possibly alert her to something.

“Hm, a violent sport isn’t entertaining to my Alfie?” She teased.

“Nah.” He smiled and poked his head into the nursery adjoining the master bedroom. Teddy was fast asleep in his crib. His lips parted and his little fists resting by his head. He wasn’t bothered by his parents speaking softly to one another. “Rather be home with you and Teddy.”

“Or you’re upset that you’re not the one doing any of the punching.” She held up her fists like a boxer.

Alfie chuckled and got into bed with her. “Should put you in the ring, you’ve knocked me off me feet a couple of times. That little number you wore on our honeymoon? Total knock out.”

She grinned and cuddled close to him. “Afraid it’ll be a couple of more months before you see me wearing something like that again. Not until Teddy sleeps through the night.”

The smile on Alfie’s face faltered but he tried not to let it show. He realized he didn’t have a few months left. He wrapped his arms around his wife and held her close to him. “Think I want to go to Margate next week.”

“Margate? Oh, Alfie, it’ll be awfully cold by the water.”

He nodded absent-mindedly, staring up at the ceiling. “Just want a change of scenery.”

Louise frowned and reached for his hand. “I’ve been worried about you.” She told him honestly. “The past few weeks you’ve been acting differently.”

“Have I? S’pose there’s a lot going on.” He tried to shrug it off.

“Is it because of the baby?” Louise was afraid Alfie wasn’t happy. He appeared to enjoy being a father but maybe it was just to make her feel better.

“What? No, Lou. Absolutely not. You and Teddy are the best things in me life. I’m just trying to get everything settled, is all. Get ready for retiring.” He didn’t disclose that he technically was already retired. After letting the Italians into the boxing match, he’d taken his reward and left. There was a grenade fixed to the door for anyone who was willing to seek him out. So either the bakery would remain empty or it would be blown to pieces. What was done was done.

“Well, I’m glad you’re doing that. I was afraid Luca Changretta was going to upset things.” Louise thought Alfie had completely avoided any dealings with the Americans. He’d given her no hints or suspicions.

Alfie felt a little guilty for lying but the less she knew about the match the better. In the long run, she would be kept safe from the Americans and hopefully the Shelbys after that week.

“Is there anything you need your secretary to do?” Louise smiled up at him. “Or are you letting me retire as well?”

“Fucking hell, you’ve been retired since you’ve had our son, love. Would never make you work another day in your life.” He kissed her hair. “You’ve done your part, kept me books in order and kept me in line.”

“I miss being your secretary though.” She pouted. “Got to see you more often.”

“Well now that I’m retired, love, you get me all the time. Sure you’ll be begging for me to go back to work after two days. I’ll drive you mad.” He teased affectionately.

“Never.” She smiled and reached up to kiss him. She gave him so much comfort. He only wished he could do the same. “Margate, then?” When she drew away, she looked into his eyes.

He nodded and touched a hand to her cheek. “Margate. Just for a bit.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was cold. The wind was fierce by the shore and there was an ungodly chill in the air. But Louise didn’t seem to mind and was happy to bundle up and take Teddy for walks on the beach with Alfie. Still, she had the persistent feeling that something was going on with Alfie.

He’d been awfully sentimental and nostalgic. Reminding her about the time they first met, the first time they’d kissed, the dress she wore to the art gallery, their wedding, and so many more memories. He’d linger on each life event as if he were about to forget it only seconds later.

Alfie had always been touchy, especially after their wedding. But the week at Margate, he acted as if they’d never so much as held hands before. Drawing out every little kiss and letting his hand linger on her arm or squeezing her hand as they walked together.

He didn’t sleep and stayed up with Teddy if he cried. Louise often heard him speaking to his son in the next room but could never hear what he was saying. He often checked in on Teddy more times than were necessary. His blue eyes looking into the bassinette with worry.

But if Louise asked if something was wrong, he’d chalk it up to retiring or would say there was nothing wrong at all.

The night before Tommy was due to arrive, Alfie held onto Louise like a vice when they made love. His fingers digging into her shoulders, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, and repeating over and over again that he loved her more than life itself.

She didn’t know why, but she began to cry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, Alfie was ready to face the music. His time had come and he was going to face it like a soldier. That’s all he could do, it was far too late to turn back.

“There you are.” Louise smiled. She was holding Teddy in a small basin of water as she gently washed his soft skin. The baby yawned and squirmed a bit. His fist waving about and trying to grab the washcloth his mother was using.

Alfie was amazed to see how much he’d grown in such a seemingly short amount of time. It was unfortunate he wouldn’t see him pass any more milestones. He would leave that to Louise to cherish.

“Right, going for a walk.” He had to keep his voice from shaking. But this was it. The note was on the desk in their room. A sealed letter for Teddy when he was old enough to receive it. Everything was in order. Now he just had to finish the hardest part.

Louise wrapped Teddy in a towel and held him close. Cyril lingered by her, watching the little bundle in her arms. “On the beach? I could come with you.” She offered.

“I’d just slow you down.” Alfie forced a smile and walked over to her. “You know I love you, yeah?” He whispered.

She just laughed and shook her head. “If I didn’t know by now I’d be pretty thick, wouldn’t I?” She teased.

“Nah, you’re as bright as they come.” He chuckled weakly and kissed her forehead. His eyes fell on Teddy who was dozing off against Louise’s shoulder. What could he say to his son who wouldn’t understand? “He’ll be bright too.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see.” Louise smiled and carefully dried off Teddy’s dark hair. “But I’m sure he will be if he’s got his father’s wits.” She went to set the baby down in the bassinette. “I was going to make breakfast, you won’t be long will you?”

Alfie couldn’t shake the large lump in his throat. “No, love, I’ll be quick.”

She only smiled and went into the small kitchen.

Her husband lingered, not wanting to leave quite yet. “Lou.” He walked over to her.

“Mhm?”

“I love you.” He said again and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. He kissed her jaw and neck, trying to hold onto the way she felt. Trying to leave just enough of himself with her. She already had his heart.

“I know, dear. I love you too.” She replied with an amused look.

He rested his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Whatever I’ve done, yeah, I’ve done it because I love you and I don’t want you to suffer.”

Louise frowned. “Alfie, is something the matter? Honestly, it must be something other than retiring. You’re acting so strange and it’s making me worry about you.”

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just want you to know.” He kissed her cheek and forced himself to withdraw. “I’ll only be a mo’.” He passed by the bassinette and stopped. “You be good to mumma, yeah?”

Teddy opened his eyes and kicked his feet up. He could only make little noises of contentment in response.

“Yeah, you’ll be the man of the house. You’ll need to keep her safe.” He whispered and lightly wiggled his tiny toes. “Oh the stories she’ll tell you.” A sad smile crossed the man’s face. “You probably won’t believe them at first. But they’re real…I did them all. Only believe her though. Anyone else is telling you fucking lies. She’s the only one who truly knew me.” He swallowed and leaned down to kiss Teddy’s small forehead. “I love you, never forget that. I hope you understand.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was still burning in the sky when Alfie made it down to the shoreline. It bleached everything white and gave a strange purgatory feeling.

He kept his eyes on the horizon when he heard Tommy approaching.

“You were easy to find.”

Alfie punched out a bitter laugh. “Well, there is a good reason for that, mate. I wanted it to be here, didn’t I? Beautiful, innit?”

Tommy stood a little bit away as he listened to the man ready to accept his fate.

“Lou…” Alfie twisted and pointed up near the dunes. “I proposed to her right up there. This morning, she were down here with Teddy.” A smile pricked his face and he felt his eyes sting from the wind and the tears he held back. “Letting him put his little feet in the water. She looked at me and said, ‘This is paradise, Alfie. We don’t ever hafta go back to Camden if we didn’t want to’.”

“Alfie.” Tommy tried to interrupt.

“Me mum took me here when I was little. Couldn’t fucking swim and nearly drowned. What you think, Tommy, reckon it’d be better if she let me drown?” His blue eyes looked over at the man. “Yeah, lotta people would still be alive, wouldn’t they? Their families wouldn’t be mourning them. Wouldn’t have had to fight in that fucking war.”

“You wouldn’t have met Louise,” Tommy interjected. “You wouldn’t have helped her out of that situation. You got rid of her husband.”

Alfie laughed sarcastically. “Thing is Tommy, women like her, people like her they always find something. Hell, if I don’t wonder every day if she could’ve found someone better than me. Me? I couldn’t have done any fucking better. You ask me, yeah, all I’ve done is brought her pain.”

Tommy opened his mouth but Alfie didn’t let him get a word in.

“Got skin cancer.” He spoke with brutal honesty. “Riddled with it, picked it up in France from those fucking gases.” He shook his head. “And Lou…I’ll be damned if she has to watch me die slowly.”

“So you’ll let her find you dead on a beach?” Tommy asked harshly. “How’d you figure that would be any better?”

Alfie rocked back and forth on his feet, his hands deep in his pockets. He didn’t want to answer that question. He didn’t want to face his reality anymore. “Y’know, I know how you felt when you lost Grace and when Charlie was taken. M’not a fucking monster, am I? D’you know what I would do if Lou was shot dead in front of me or if Teddy was taken? I’d tear the whole fucking universe to shreds, mate. But now I’ve made me bed, right, and everything’s done. I made a deal with the Americans to get into the fight. Weren’t anything to do with you or your family, I was only doing it to save me own. Call me what you want, but I needed to make sure they would leave Louise alone once I’m gone. Now we’re even. I get your brother killed and you kill me. That’s the way our world works, innit? Fucking cycle of people killing people killing people.”

“Alfie.”

“I’m retired, Tommy, but I’ve made peace with everything. I’d give me life a million times in order to keep her and Teddy safe. Lou will be fine when I’m gone. She’ll be protected and well off for the rest of her life. S’pose all I can ask is that you leave her the fuck alone. You’ll get your money’s worth by killing me. No use going after her and me boy. But I trust you’re an honorable man and wouldn’t do that.”

“Alfie, shut up.” Tommy snapped in a low voice.

“Oh, for fuck's sake, Tommy, just get on with it!” Alfie demanded. “You know you’re going to do it. So, finish it off so you can go back to your scheming, aye?”

Tommy gritted his teeth and pulled out his gun. He aimed and let his finger go heavy on the trigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~

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#alfie solomons #alfie solomonsxoc #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #oc #ofc #cyril solomons #tommy shelby #ollie #tom hardy #tom hardy character #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character

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all-fandom-writing · 4 years

Text

Not mine.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Warnings: hella angsty, miscarriage, and fighting. The works

A/N: Every time I look at Tommy I feel angst, I love that man but he’s so sad. So this is angst, through and through, I’m sorry in advance. I’m extremely rusty and haven’t written creatively in literally years so please be nice. Also I would say this takes place some time in season 3… no real spoilers but maybe if you squint. The italics are flashback to before the war!!

“We almost had something, right? I didn’t make us up?” I stared into the glass of whiskey that my hands were curled around. It was my third, I thought it would give me liquid courage but somehow the anxiety penetrated through the barrier. This is why I’d asked him to meet me, I needed to see him or hear his voice. But I couldn’t look at Tommy, too afraid I’d see a look of pity cross his face as he told me that it had all been a mistake. The child I almost brought into this world, hadn’t been wanted.

The few seconds of silence were too much and my inebriated brain took control, “I-I mean, before the war. Before I threw you out. You wanted me. I mean, well, I mean… us. You wanted our son and me, right? I just need to-“ a rough hand that seemed gentler than I remembered touched my forearm. I traced Tommy’s figure up until my eyes met his. His beautiful blue eyes, they held something akin to love but not the love I remember from so many years ago.

It was a cold night, a night I could feel through the glass of Tommy and I’s tiny apartment. That didn’t matter though, as I lit candles and placed food onto the table, I was practically buzzing. Everything was perfect, yes, perfect. I surveyed the table for a while, petting the kitten that curled around my feet.

As the time when Tommy said he’d be home came and went, I sat. I was optimistic, he had always been punctual, never missing our plans, so I convinced myself it must’ve been important. I drummed my fingers on the table, bounced my leg, until I heard the key in the door. It was only an hour past when he said he’d be home, I suppose in a different state I would’ve been angry, but in that moment, an hour felt like fleeting seconds. A Cheshire-like grin spread across my face when I saw him. He was so beautiful, I practically flew to him. Jumped onto him and connected my lips with his, he was obviously surprised but soon returned my kiss, albeit hesitantly.

“What’s gotten into you, love?” He chuckled as he pulled away slightly, not letting go of my waist. Even while chuckling he seemed in pain over something, I could see it in the lines on his forehead. I suddenly felt myself clam up.

“Oh, nothing special, just missed you is all.” I brushed it off, quickly pecking his lips once more before taking his hat and coat. I practically dragged him over to the table, smiling even more at the praise he gave over the sight of a hot meal, well, lukewarm.

As we ate, we made idle chat about our days, but Tommy still seemed in another world, when I would talk for long stretches I could see him leaving, watched his eyes glaze over and he’d stop eating. Finally towards the end of our meals, I grabbed his hand.

“Right, what is it?” I asked, after squeezing for his attention. This only seemed to launch him into deeper thought. For a long time I thought he wouldn’t answer at all.

“John’s been drafted.”

I barely heard him over the low music coming through the phonograph. I dropped his hand slightly.

“What?”

“He got the letter this morning.” Tommy brought his hand to shuffle through his hair.

I covered my mouth. I’d always liked John, ever since Tommy had introduced us, it was like he was my younger brother too.

“Oh my god.”

Like he hadn’t even heard me, he went on, “Arthur said we couldn’t leave him to go it alone, but Arthur was always a little thick in the head. We would’ve been drafted eventually too. Wouldn’t be surprised if the letters showed up sometime this week.”

I sat in stunned silence for a second, poor John. Then it hit me. He wasn’t saying what I thought he was…

“Tommy, are-”

He cut me off, “It was the right thing to do, he’s my little brother, whether I’m drafted or not, he can’t go out there alone.”

“Are you-”

“And Arthur, you know how he gets, he practically ran over people trying to get to the recruitment office, like a crazed animal he is. When he sets his mind to something… I couldn’t stop him.”

I felt the tears start, I was whispering now, begging, “Tommy.”

“But I can’t leave my brothers to go out there alone, I enlisted. I couldn’t be here alone, not here without them.”

“Tommy!” I shouted and shoved my curled fists into the table. There was so much quiet after that, it felt as though I’d stopped the entire world from spinning.

I got up from the table, suddenly finding it very hard to be so close to him. I walked to, or rather fell into, the counter, holding myself up and wanting to scream and throw up, and sleep for a thousand years, all at the same time.

Finally, “How could you do this?” I whispered into the countertop. There was no response. “How could you do this to me? To us?” I turned my wide eyes on him, when he wouldn’t meet my gaze, the flood gates broke.

“You couldn’t stand to be without your brothers, but what about me? You’d leave me here? All alone? How fucking selfish are you!” I stormed over to him, not getting too close or else I’d lose my bravado.

“How dare you act like this was inevitable! How fucking dare you, Thomas Shelby. You had no way of knowing you’d be drafted, no way.”

“Don’t be delusional, they’d have me by the end of the month-”

I cut him off, “You don’t know that!”

He slammed his chair back, “Yes, I do! And so do you! We both know all able-bodied men will be drafted. And even on the very slim chance I wasn’t, how could you expect me to stay here while my brothers are out there dying? We’re leaving tomorrow at noon, I can’t let John go alone.” He said it so matter-a-factly, as though it was all decided, and I had no say.

There was another long stretch, and I could feel his blue eyes staring at me, just staring. That’s all it took. I sobbed, broke down. Just sat right down on the ground and brought my knees to my chest. I vaguely remember batting Tommy’s hand away. I heard his steps, as though he was pacing to the door and back to me, trying to decide what to do.

“I’m pregnant.” That stopped his footsteps.

“I’m carrying your bloody child in my body, not that it’s of any consequence to you.” I mumbled, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. Shock, that was the only emotion. Then regret, and anguish. And then he was in the same position as me, crumbled to the floor, head in his hands.

I scoffed, “Not even enough time to be married. Fuck. Fuck!”

Tommy moaned into his palms.

“Don’t you dare fucking cry, don’t you dare. You’re not the unmarried whore who’s going to have to raise and support a child while it’s fucking father is off playing solider.” I bite out at him, standing to my feet. Tommy moaned again, hunching over further.

“Get out.” I didn’t realize I’d said it until he met my eyes, his blue ones glassed over with tears unshed.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” I picked something up and threw it in his general direction.

“No, we can work this out, we can do something.”

“No, we bloody cannot, you ignorant git. We both know that.” I mocked his words from earlier in the night. He stood and tried to put his hands on my shoulders.

“Don’t fucking touch me… just go… Dear God, please just leave me, just go and don’t come back.” I pressed my palms into my eyes, so hard it hurt.

Still Tommy tried to pull me to his chest. I beat against him, as hard as I could, keeping my eyes closed. He only fell away when I reached up and slapped him.

“Fucking leave! You’re going anyway so what’s one more night going to do? I cannot stand the sight of you, not now, not ever. This isn’t your child anymore, it’s mine. You’re dead to us.” I muttered the last words in the midst of hysteria, but they felt so true leaving my mouth.

“I never regretted you. Or us, or our child.” It was like a kick in the teeth. Our child, the son I wasn’t strong enough to bring into the world. Polly tried to tell me it wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t have helped it. But all I felt was guilt. I had written Tommy about it. The first and only letter I sent him. He had written me letter after letter pleading for a response before that. I suppose that letter wasn’t the response he wanted because he never wrote to me again. After that, I had just assumed he blamed me, or hadn’t cared to hear about the baby in any capacity.

“I loved you. So much. I shouldn’t have done what I did that-”

“I wish there was something I could’ve changed, but it’s in the past and that’s where it needs to stay. I’m a different person now, you’re different. I love you, I will always love you. And I’ll mourn until I die for our girl who never got to see the sun, but it’s the past.” Tommy finished his whiskey in a quick swig. He reached to pour himself another glass but I caught his arm. I was off the seat and had wedged myself against his torso before I had time to think about the ramifications. I felt him stiffen as I tried to hug him closer to myself.

“I know you're happy with Grace. I’m not trying to change that. She’s good for you, better than me. I’m happy for you, but I’m sad for us. I missed you so much Tommy and I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough.” Tears leaked out even as I tried to hold them in. Then it was his hands on me, holding my head into his neck and squeezing me into him. Suddenly, it was like the old Tommy was back in my arms. The Tommy from before the war, as he shushed and comforted me.

But as soon as I pulled back, it all slammed back into me. The man staring back at me was a stranger. Long forgotten were days when seeing me cry would make Tommy sob. There was only blankness behind his dry eyes, barely emotion of any kind. He was a soldier, not a man. Not mine.

✶✶✶✶✶

A/N: I hope you liked it, or it evoked emotion or sumthing. I write for almost any fandom, I’m also down to give and receive recs, or just chat! Have a lovely day :)

P.S. can I quick say that I absolutely do not like the way its formatted in tumblr, it looks fine in docs, now it looks shit... what happened.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #shelby company limited #imagine #angst #fic #x reader #tommy x reader #thomas shelby

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wouldpollyapprove · 4 years

Text

Her Father’s Daughter

Request: Could u do tommy shelby and his daughter (possibly around 4-5 years old) with the fluff print list 2 “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.” if that makes sense idk i just want some dad tommy fluff

i was wondering if u could write a singe dad tommy shelby 🥺🥺 like at he start of season one and she’s 5, base it off the first episode? sorry if it’s too accurate it came to me in a dream and i’m sure as hell not talented enough to write it🤣 love ur work !!

I have a request for Tommy Shelby! He gets really over protective with his daughter! ❤️

Requested by Anonymous, Anonymous, & Anonymous!

Thomas Shelby x Daughter! Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Language, mention of drugs & alcohol

A/n: The amount of requests I got asking for Tommy as a father is amazing. I love the idea of this man with kids, he’d be so gentle and caring. Let’s be honest, though, I would rather be nice to children than I would adults. Adults can be assholes. I hope you guys enjoy this because I loved writing it.

Masterlist

The world was forever changed after the chaos that was the Great War. Men came back in casts, bandages, and body bags. Some never returned home, stuck in the trenches of war that other’s were lucky enough to escape. There was not one person that returned home the same. All were just as messed up in the head as the next. The Shelby brothers weren’t exempt from that.

Tommy was, by far, the brother most affected by the war. His boyish smiles all but disappeared, only given to one special person. He kept to himself, spending most of his time at home, and when he had to go out, it was with his family. Tommy no longer pretended to be a simple man. That wasn’t him anymore. He had done violent, bloody deeds during the service of his country and he wouldn’t hide that. That was the man he was now: violent.

But that wasn’t what his daughter saw.

Only five when he returned, she didn’t see a broken man. She saw her playmate, her knight in shining armor, her father. Y/n knew nothing of what he had seen, the horrors of modern war, only that he was home once more.

“Where are we going?” She grasped onto her father’s hand, eyes jumping between the different people in the street.

Tommy couldn’t help but smile at her behavior. Everything caught her eye. He knew she would be too smart for her own good when she was older. “We-” Tommy slowed his pace and scooped her into his arms, deciding it easiest to carry her the rest of the way. His legs were too long for her tiny ones to keep up. “-are going to a family meeting.”

“Oh,” she drawled, playing with the collar of his jacket. “Is Aunt Polly gonna be there?” Eyes wide in excitement, she waited with a smile for his answer.

Her father nodded, earning an eruption of giggles from his daughter.

It was moments like these that he cherished the most. Polly had told him, with his work schedule, it was best to let her or Ada take care of her while he was away, but Tommy just couldn’t have that. Y/n’s mother, who he’d made the mistake of marrying, had fucked off when she realized she didn’t want to be tied down. Leaving her baby girl and husband in Birmingham, she fled to Rome with a painter and made it clear that she wanted nothing to do with them. Of course, Y/n was too small to understand that, the love that her mother didn’t hold for her, but Tommy would never make her feel unloved. And so, there was never once that he wished to pawn his daughter off onto other people. She was his responsibility and she would accompany him everywhere he went.

The solution was a win-win for both of them. Tommy was able to keep a watchful eye on his daughter and take care of her every need, while Y/n was able to experience new things and spend time with her dad. Both were extremely happy with the setup.

Within minutes, the pair were upon Polly’s house, squeals of excitement came from his daughter’s lips when he opened the door. Warm air and cigarette smoke wafted around him as Tommy dropped Y/n into a chair at the kitchen table, Polly across from her.

“Look at my lovely girl,” Polly cooed and extended a hand to stroke the coils in her hair. “I see someone has learned a thing or two from their sister.” She raised a brow at her nephew.

Placing a tray of biscuits on the table for Y/n to snack on, Tommy shrugged. “Ada said it was hard, real easy for me.”

His aunt nodded, her lips turned up in a smile as she watched the little girl in front of her. Polly was far from pleased when Y/n’s mother left, reminded her too much of her bastard brother. While her nephews were off at war, she took Y/n in and raised her while her father was away. Once Tommy returned, though, that all changed. No matter her protests, Tommy would hear none of it when she offered to help him with his daughter. His little girl was the only good thing in his life and he wasn’t going to pawn her off onto other people like she was a burden.

Knowing her nephew, Polly knew there was no arguing with Tommy and just let him do as he pleased. As long as Y/n and Tommy were happy and healthy, she had no reason to worry.

“What did you want to talk about?” she asked, peering up at Tommy from where he was leaning against the counter.

“About horses!” Y/n shouted while searching for the perfect biscuit to eat. “Lots and lots of horses!” In recent months, it wasn’t hard for the family to see how much she resembled her father in every way. His love for horses, strong as an ox before the war, had soon become her’s and she wasn’t shy about it.

“Horses?” she raised a brow. “What about horses, Thomas?”

“The races, pol. The races.”

“And how are we gonna do that?” She all about shouted, keeping her voice down once she remembered there was a child in the room.

Tommy waved away her question, instead turning his attention to his daughter. Kneeling down to her level, he brushed a loose curl out of her face and tucked it behind her hair. “Have you ever made biscuits with aunt Pol?”

Y/n nodded, licking the sugar off her sticky fingers. Once finished with the task at hand, she said, “We made ‘em for Christmas.”

It was his turn to nod, an idea sparking to life. “Aunt Polly makes the best biscuits.”

“Don’t change the subject.” His aunt glared at him. “We don’t have the money to even touch the races.”

“We’ll get the fuckin’ money,” he mumbled, standing straight once again.

“Thomas!”

Unphased by his words, she’d heard worse at home, Y/n laid her head against the table. Perhaps it was the fact that she’d stuffed her face full of sugar or that she didn’t want to sleep the night before, but exhaustion hit her like a freight train.

“Poor dear,” Polly’s attention quickly shifted from Tommy to his daughter. “Oh, she’s already asleep.” She motioned to the closed eyes and even breathes.

Tommy should have known she wouldn’t make it halfway through the day. She played rough and that’s what she had done before they’d left to visit Polly. It didn’t help that she refused to go to bed the night before. Though she could manage off a few hours’ sleep for a while, her father was like a dead man walking when he’d first woken up.

“Put her on the sofa and then we’ll finish discussing your outrageous idea.”

Doing as he was told, Tommy gently picked the sleeping child up, doing his best not to wake her and anger his aunt. Careful not to brush the doorway, he walked through the house and into the parlor, stopping in front of the sofa. With one hand he moved a pillow to one side to support her head and then guided her to the soft cushions. Y/n grabbed the pillow out of habit as her father draped a quilt over her. Hopefully, she would be able to get some sleep. If her uncles’ burst threw the door, Tommy wasn’t sure much would keep him from killing them.

Before leaving her to nap, Tommy brushed the hair out of her face, placing a kiss on her temple, he muttered, “You’re the best thing I never knew I needed.”

And, indeed, she was. Without that little girl in his life, Tommy would be another one of the war’s lost boys, walking down a road with no hope, no light at the end. Like so many, he would know nothing but the dark nature of the bottom of a bottle and a pile of cocaine. Without Y/n he would be a dead man walking and he couldn’t thank her enough for all that she’d done for him, whether she knew it or not.

*~~*~~*

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#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #the peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shleby imagines #tommy shelby imagine

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angelaiswriting · 5 years

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Family Problems | Michael Gray

[Photo by Dominika Roseclay from Pexels]

✏️ Pairing: Michael Gray x wife!reader

✏️ Summary: She doesn’t want children: to Polly and the family, this is a problem. (Requested by anonymous)

✏️ A/N: this was so hard to write because I want plenty of kids, but hopefully, I did it justice! Also, hopefully this can be considered fluff.

✏️ Warnings: none I can think of

✏️ Word-count: 2,547

Consider supporting my work by sharing it 💛

The thought had been scary at first―what would Michael’s mother say? It was almost as though Y/N owed her a team of grandkids. Polly had been robbed of her own children, after all, and she had never seen them grow and mature―let alone die, when Michael’s sister left this world. It was almost a non-said knowledge: Mrs Elizabeth Gray wanted grandchildren, and Y/N had to comply.

The truth was, though, she didn’t want any―or, at least, she didn’t want kids of her own. Motherhood simply didn’t appeal to her―the hormones, the changes her body would have to go through, the mood swings, the cravings, the delivery… She had assisted Lizzie throughout her pregnancy; she had been by her side day in and day out―out of sheer friendship, that is―and her conviction had only become stronger the more the months passed.

She didn’t want kids of her own.

It had almost been a nightmare at first, to tell her husband―what will he think? What will he say? Will he leave me behind like I never meant anything to him? She knew he would love to become a father one day, to try and not be like the one he never got to know, and to not want something he so clearly desired almost felt selfish.

But he had understood. Adoption is always an option, he had said, hope clear in the tone of his voice and even in his eyes. She had nodded that day, coffee in one hand and cigarette in the other. She had nodded and she had smiled. Yes, she had told herself, adoption is an option.

It probably still was, but she never thought of it―it simply never came up. Between one thing and another, with what she did for the Shelby Company Ltd. and her own father’s shipping company down in London, there was never enough time to conjure up some thoughts and half-projects about a possible future parenthood. Whenever she turned around, she had her father’s numbers to revise, a Shelby meeting she had to attend to, Ada to help with the preparations of some mundane occasion to showcase the Shelbys’ benevolence. And above, below and around anything business-related, she had her own marriage and family to nurture and love and care about; a husband that never came home like he left it; acquired cousins that would come visit literally whenever; a mother-in-law always way too willing to help around the house with things that were clearly not her business.

That day was different, though.

Halloween had just passed. November had finally begun and was now more ready than ever to bring on new financial and economical agreements between her father’s company and some manufacturers on the other side of the channel. She had a trip to Paris scheduled for the second half of the month and another in Belgium at the beginning of December. Then, as Christmas rolled around, she could bid her wishes for the festivities and the new year to her father and colleagues, and retire in some hotel room Michael would take her to as a way to escape his family for a couple of days.

But it had been too good a month to be true―with his father’s business running smoothly and the Shelbys keeping to themselves and not bothering her―that something just had to go wrong. And south it went when that night Y/N came back home after work just to find Polly Gray sitting in her living room.

She didn’t boast a history of being a psychic, but she had felt the tense, almost irony air heaving down the atmosphere of the living room. And when her husband came over to kiss her on the lips like he usually did and offered her an unexpected glass of Shelby gin―not her favourite, but her father was helping his in-laws selling their alcohol so that had to do it until it was all gone―, she knew things were about to downhill―and then down a little more.

She should have known better than to hope, she told herself as she plastered a fake smile on her lips and sipped on her gin as she would poison. Her eyes were glaring at Michael, almost wishing they could be able to pry the truth out of him―his mother never came to visit unannounced, after all, she just couldn’t bring herself to like who her son had married―and all he could muster was an apologetic look before he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Sweet, soft lips against her cooling skin―it was something she usually loved. But right now, as her mother-in-law glanced up from her cup of tea and stared at her, she couldn’t help but wish Michael would just kick her out of their house so that they could discuss whatever matter in private.

“It’s quite late, isn’t it?”

Y/N knew what direction Polly was trying to take as soon as the words left her lips. She had already been accused of being an adulterer by her, after all, and despite the fact that the only opinion that mattered was her husband’s―who knew she only had eyes for him―, she couldn’t help but grit her teeth and down half of the content of her tumbler in the vain attempt to keep her mouth shut and her tongue behind gritted teeth.

“A woman quite like you shouldn’t work until this hour of the night.

“It’s okay, I was on my second job,” she grinned, eyes as cold as stone as Michael sighed against the side of her face, his lips still pressed to her left temple. “Sucking cocks,” she added with a wink, “I thought you knew. I had the feeling like you had walked down that lane back when you could have been considered young.”

There was a moment of silence, then, and the tension was so thick that even the blind could have cut through it with a sewing thread. And as the two women stared at each other, with Michael still hugging her wife’s waist with an arm and looking at the wall behind her hoping the torture would soon end, time seemed to dilate endlessly.

The logwood cracked and moaned in the fireplace and if one listened closely enough, one would hear the soft sounds coming from the kitchen and fighting for attention against the ticking of the huge pendulum clock at the end of the hall.

Then, before anyone had the time to say anything, Michael cleared his throat and turned around to face his mother.

It was clear on his face that he had spent the last two and a half hours conjuring up the courage to do this move―he should have probably followed through much earlier, shouldn’t have let his wife go through this.

“It’s time for you to leave, mum.”

Each and every word stung, pierced the air like arrows as Polly’s face fell and Y/N heaved a silent sigh, closing her eyes for a moment before allowing herself to finish her gin.

Polly didn’t stand and with all the calm in the world, Y/N spoke: “You heard my husband.”

‘Husband’ was a powerful word, or at least it had always been in the Grays’ house. While Polly had barely followed her husband’s orders while he had been alive, she knew Michael was different. Was it because of his more bourgeois upbringing or because of the time he had spent in America, nobody knew and probably nobody would ever be sure. The only certainty was, you had to obey when he gave an order. And while veiled under the pretence of courtesy, that was still the meaning behind his words.

“I thought we could have a chat before I left.”

Michael had changed―America had changed him and above that, Tommy had done the majority of the dirty work, moulding the young Mr Gray into a man you don’t want to mess with. If Polly could have got away with it in the past, she wasn’t this lucky anymore. “It’s time for you to leave,” he repeated, voice calm and words slow, calculated.

His mother was slow at standing from the burgundy couch imported from Italy, and Y/N stared with her breath caught in her lungs as the woman did what Michael had to order twice.

There could have been a billion and one things her mother-in-law could have wanted to talk about, but somehow she knew the topic would have been that. Children, motherhood, pregnancy, an army of tiny Grays swarming the streets of Birmingham―little did Polly know Michael had been planning to move to London as soon as this deal with New York City Tommy was working on was done and over.

We’ll be closer to your father, was the excuse he always adduced when Y/N asked him if he was sure. But the truth was, he wanted to leave his family behind his back―to forget anything and everything about them once and for all―or as much as he could while still keep on working for them from afar.

“I trust you know what to tell her.” When Polly spoke, standing almost toe-to-toe with her son, it was almost as though Y/N wasn’t truly there, but was a mere ghost, the reflection of something the older woman was forced to stand for the sake of everything she loved. “We have a place in this world and we should keep it.”

Her eyes set on him, Y/N saw her husband refrain himself from rolling his eyes as his right hand slipped into the front pocket of his trousers. She wondered whether she’d see him explode, yell in his mother’s face as he did back in June, over something she had already forgotten all about. It wasn’t like she cared about Polly, not if the kind of love her mother-in-law felt for her could be an indication of how she reciprocated―she was an annoying fly she would stand for the love of her husband, but nothing more, nothing less.

“I won’t settle for anything less, remember that, Michael,” she went on. “You’re a Gray, and half a Shelby. We are your family.”

It was only that night, lying in bed awake and avoiding the topic, that Y/N mustered up the guts to ask Michael what all that fuss had been about. Her initial plan had been to steer away from what she thought could be the matter and wait for her husband to prove her wrong, but hoping for a lie was worse than the sting the slap of the truth would leave behind.

“How did she find out?” She turned on her side under silky sheets and in the warmth of the room, she found herself shivering as chills crawled up her legs, pulling at her skin.

Michael was reading―he had recently got his eyes checked up and had been given a pair of glasses to wear any time he had to read. The polished surface of their tortoiseshell frames seemed to glint in the light of his bedside-table lamp as she looked up at him, breathed in the smoke of his cigarette.

When Tommy had started to fall sick with that persistent cough of his, she had stopped smoking. The cousin of a cousin had doomed his lungs with all the cigars he had smoked, back in Australia, and Y/N still remembered seeing his dead body while she had been there on holiday: she had turned eight just a few days later and the image had forever been impressed in her mind. She had never cared, never consciously thought about what could happen if you smoked too much, but Michael’s cousin had brought the memory back.

“One of the maids snitched,” he muttered, turning the page. He read a couple of lines, dragged another puff from his cig and extended his arm out to his right to let the ash fall into the ashtray. “Polly didn’t like it, came here to say she expects us to have at least three. To keep the business going, you know.” He smirked at her, handed her his cigarette but took it back when she shook her head no. “I fired the maid.”

“Why didn’t you send her away sooner?”

He shrugged. “I thought she’d change her mind when you talked to her, or that she could see it from our perspective.”

Y/N snorted, moving up on the bed and taking her husband’s book from his hands. A glance at the cover and she knew it was the thriller he had bought in Detroit two years ago. It almost made her chuckle, the fact that he still had to finish it when she had devoured it in a couple of days. It was one of the little things about him that she loved the most. “It’s your mother we’re talking about. Polly Gray never changes her mind.”

She stared as he chuckled, his head thrown back against the pillows as smoke left his lips and went up towards the ceiling. He was beautiful―and she found herself thinking about it for the thousandth time that week. His freckled, the line of his jaw, the tip of his nose and those lips of his stretched into a smile. And then, when he turned to look at her, the twinkle in his eyes, behind the lenses of his glasses.

If there was one thing she wanted to do right at that moment, it was to kiss him. Softly, almost worried she’d break him―or that she’d break herself.

“I don’t give a fuck about children.” And he was serious. He wanted them, that was for sure, but the way he’d come to have them held no importance to him. “Fuck my mother, fuck her family. I was treated like shit and what’s worse is that they’ve treated you like shit, too. To hell with their fucking name!”

“You know you don’t have to do this, right?” She thought back to her life in America, when she had first met him. He had been displeased by how his family had sent him away, but they still held some kind of importance in his eyes; it was almost scary to see that feeling gone, now. “Not for me.”

“I love you,” he said, taking his glasses off his nose and put them down on his bedside table. “I’m married to you, not to them. They don’t get to dictate my life, nor yours. If you ever want a child of our own one day, I’ll be happy to give you one, but if you never will, I won’t force it upon you.”

There was silence―sweet, comfortable silence as he pulled her into him and she breathed him in―cigarette and smoke and the faint but still pleasant smell of his soap and eau de cologne. It meant more to her than anything else ever could and she found herself basking in her husband’s warmth, soaking in it until it was all that existed.

“I can’t wait to move to London, start anew,” she whispered against his neck after a while.

“London is just the first step.” He was drowsy, sleep was winning him over. “I plan on taking us as far away from my venomous family as I can.”

Thoughts and feedback on this fic? Help me get better at what I do by leaving a message!

TAGS (to be added to or to be removed from any list, shoot me an ask)

Everything: @idhrenniel @saibh29 @fuckthatfeeling @aya-fay @pebblesz892 @mblaqgi @becs-bunker

Peaky Blinders: @whimsylavender @thethyri @friendleyneighbourhoodvillain @flowers-in-your-hayr @oddsnendsfanfics @medievalfangirl @inforapound @niamhmaria @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy

#michael gray #michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #angelaiswriting

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unikornu · 4 years

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Alright! Finally got time again to shoot you some questions for the ask meme. For Lucy: A1, 2, 9, 14, 24. B1, 13, 16. C3, 4, 6. D2, 3. E2, 4. F2, 5, 10. G2. H1, 6, 8. I1. L2, 4, 9. Also for Harrison, finally someone who can use the K questions... K1, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10?

Hell yeah long post coming and i’m so happy with the K section,

Lucy:

A1. What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…

I actually took a test thinking how she would answer and i think i got it perfectly right. I wouldn’t pick it better just by reading all of them i think. She came out as Turbulent Entrepreneur (ESTP-T) which feels ok. “ Rules were made to be broken” - hell they were. Also “ If Entrepreneurs aren’t careful though, they may get too caught in the moment, take things too far, and run roughshod over more sensitive people, or forget to take care of their own health and safety.“

Judging by her action and the way of living she is like that. Going all the way, having hard time just by staying idle and ohh yee taking things too far without thinking of consequences. Like chasing an enemy and realizing she left her support far in the back and then dealing with difficulties by herself. Constantly going careless in combat, forgetting her own safety, thinking she will make it anyway but it comes back biting her in the ass.

Also she is not smart but she can see minor hidden things, be it while cracking some password on terminal or spotting who in the crowd wants to stab her in the back just by the change of their face expression so she might be stupid but still outsmart some folks and mechanics out there and that fits with the nature of the job she had before the war.

A2. What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

I never played DnD games and so on so this one is hard but Neutral Evil - she is aware of her being on the bad side of a coin and is willing to do whatever it takes to make her wishes come true even if it means killing someone but she still have some self restrains and won’t go against the allies she is currently working with and friends she made on the way and of course innocent creatures. She has some base etiquette rules and isn't rotten to the bone but when she wants something nothing will stop her no matter the cost as long as it doesn’t strike her out of the game of harms current company. She is bad but not for sake of doing evil shit or proving something but just to do what she wants and get what she wants even if blood will spill.

A9. Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

She will sure make a lot of excuses for herself after fucking shit up or going way too ahead in combat. But only for herself. She is the type of pointing finger at others while tugging and biting her tongue just not to admit she wronged someone or something and avoid too many questions or yelling at.

A14. Is your character empathetic?

Despite being a bitch she is empathetic. But might show it a bit differently...like in a page i wrote for Halloween with that bunny mask. She didn’t chop that man only because he grabbed her ass but because he was using many other women poor financial situation just to have some easy sexy time and she did feel bad for them so...her empathy stroke in a solution of killing him instead of only knocking him out and caging. If someone would harass Lizzie or...i dunno Hector, someone she considers slightly weaker at standing up for themselves and is in her “social” circle or society part then she will show empathy by stabbing those who bother them with a fork in a eye, a bit extreme but that’s how she understands empathy. Someone is chaining and kicking a dog at settlement? She will chain that man onto the bridge and let him hang and die slowly and take a dog in Pack care. Gage complains that his gun got broken in a fight and can sense some sadness, she will run for a stealing caps heist to buy new one. So...she feels empathy but her answer to it can be...well unusual, brutal and extreme.

A24. What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Type of question i hope i understood correctly :))

Fear of failing to deliver is her biggest personal obstacle. She was always scared, since childhood to fail at meeting certain expectations, be in it school for her mother who would change her mind bazillion times due to mental illness, then Harrison and fear of his eventual punishment mixed with mental abuse if she doesn’t carry her mission to the end, with Ian it was fear of failing at being the good loving partner due to her secrets and then comes whole town of raiders with Gage on top who have expectations of her and promise of certain small paradise if she delivers but...these fears always pushes her into actions more than she has to and it exhaust her mentally and can sometimes prove deadly, ending up in injuries that could have been avoided. She is aware of this but because it carried through her whole life its unavoidable.

Also she doesn’t interact much with a friendly society groups because even if she knows she is bad its not something she actually likes to hear. Coming to a small town just with intentions to have a drink and imagining that people will only show her a pistol barrel and tell her to fuck off because she is from within raider circle fills her with doubt so strong she just tends to avoid this kind of meetings.

How was the saying: “Don't tell a psychopath they're a psychopath, it upsets them” and she will get deeply upset.

B1. Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

Get respect to give it. She doesn’t trust that people will respect her back if she puts effort so she won’t show respect even to great president of whatever wastes because she also doesn’t care if someone respect her but if they pull a hand out first she will shake it back. Her life is too risky and careless to think about gaining someone’s respect first.

B13. Do they have a large or small group of friends?

If she would consider all nuka town her friends then its big but...nope, small group. Its mostly Gage (even if they are partners they can be friends too), Lizzie, William, well...Mags too and along with that Mason later on once she gets his loyality and a few traders from which she keep connections with Maddox, Chip and Shelbie. From Far Harbor for sure Allan would be easy to gain as a friend. Longfellow is just a friend grandad <3. Harrison cannot be questioned, too scary to reject him. From Commonwealth i can’t yet get idea where she could get the best friend circle. Well aside from that whatever other oc’s out there who accept her bitchiness and way of being :)) but i don’t think she would make many friends out there, she is...well plain simple and dangerous.

B16. Does your OC like to be the center of attention or more in the mix?

Definitely in the center of attention, since she couldn’t be back then. Now that crime and killing is fully legal and there is no police chase other than some disgusted by her behavior minutemen she can be a in the center of a show and she likes it. A circus ring leader, hell yeah...well raiders can be clowns too from time to time. And let’s not start with parties and free time. She’s the first to get up on table to dance. It gets her a bit to realize things she can get away with but once she does she only misses there is no spotlight at the end of the fight, shining on her.

C3. Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?

Major indeloghit....tents what? Good lord, i swear i’m too stupid for these kind of words but good i keep the dictionary close to me, right in the next tab.

Big yes. It’s not many people like her out there and she doesn’t want to flip her coin back to being good and peaceful towards rules of the world, she simply isn’t able to mentally change back anymore so in order to keep feeling like she still has a hole to belong to she needs to spend time with people like her to also boost her confidence that she isn’t the only one with broken mind out there seeking completion of her wishes through darker path. And knowing so isn’t leaving her in fear she will need to change her ways of life.

C4. Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

No. Even is she is the Overboss she rather rejects that title and prefers to be just a business partner with Gage. She doesn’t seek and need to feel important or superior, she only wants to feel useful around people she decided to blend in with and have a purpose, nothing else. The fact that she can strike orders around doesn’t fill her heart nor mind with some higher importance or value above other. Also she doesn’t considers her enemies lesser even knowing her skills, its just bad approach that can easily get one killed and she prefers stays on a same line with others. Be it friends or foes.

C6. What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?

Depends in what state that person is, she was the liar herself so she can spot one if its an actual person in need or just lazy poor soul. She will usually tho just toss a few caps and walk away without listening or hearing more from that person. She doesn’t want to struggle with a morality remaining deep in her brain if she did right or not so she will just deal with it fast and walk away, telling them to fuck off if they will follow her. These kind of people are like those annoying reminders in a shape of beggar poking her and making think if she still has some pure humanity left so...she wants to be just done with that part. But animal coming up to her is a different deal, here humanity will always strike unless its a seagull stealing her meal, then her humanity part will shrink and there will be a rock thrown in the air after that birb, as a survival contest.

D2. Do they believe in an afterlife?

She never gave it a longer thought. She cares about here and now but if she would meet someone knowledgeable in that topic she would be willing to open her ears for few minutes longer and put the knife down. She doesn’t rejects religious topics as long as someone is not brushing a saint books or whatever right in her face. She has an open mind on more than just a mortal topics mostly because of Harrison.

D3. How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

She wasn’t scared of death before the bombs and when wandering through wasteland because she just didn’t care for her life and maybe that’s what made her most effective but this changed once she realized she can finally live a life she secretly wanted but was restricted before. Her strong desire of finally rejecting the dying part is what caused certain being to finally break away from her ;> well i wrote about it in last page so yassss

E2. Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

The strongest is surely the Bodily-Kinesthetic Intelligence, she was trained to the bone and with her careless nature she is mostly depended on her physical skills and putting them into perfect timing. Even if she got a bit rusty after bombs the return of Harrison will bring her back into the right gears of phasing like speed and combat thinking.

Weakest could be probably the Intra-personal Intelligence mostly because even if she understand her actions she isn’t very good at analyzing it any deeper other than “i want that man’s money cus i want that”, i guess....i could describe it like that. I cant really get any deeper or more detailed into this because there is for sure one thing i share with Lucy....we are simple minded simpletons but..i might be a bigger one :)))

E4. Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

At the beginning she didn’t enjoy any school as other students would consider her a weirdo because of her mother which would sometimes show up, uncalled at school and act really weird but later when she decided to stand up for herself after meeting Harrison as a kid ....others in school didn’t enjoy that change as much as she became seen as a pretty bully girl being overly extreme into serving “justice”. The only classes she enjoyed tho were gym and biology ones as she wasn’t scared to cut a frog but others seeing her just chopping it like a piece of ham could...weighted on her reputation. Also she always joined like a sport/cheerleader groups to have less problems with teachers as it was bringing school good reputation and she was fairly flexible and with high stamina so it was also easy for her. So from being bullied she became popular bully girl of sort. She got hooked on law later on because she wanted indeed to serve some justice, in a peaceful manner at start. So all in all she didn’t enjoy school at start but then she didn’t mind it as she took business in her hands, a bit over the edge but well...bully with some feelings eh? I don’t have many details as to what exact type of school she would go but another reason she would enjoy sitting at school once she became the one in charge is to spend less time at home with her confusing mother so she would be staying late for some extra gym trainings, sweating her emotions off.

F2. What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

In Porter’s rough, dirty yet soft heart stuffed in his sweaty smelly top.

She can call Fizztop an ideal home of sort. The weather in Nuka World strikes her preferences and even since she was strolling with Harrison from time to time there before the war she just loved that place and beside the first deadly visit there they made a good memories there, father and daughter like. She prefers her home to be placed inside the town as she hates sleeping in open spaces even if its a single house on top of a hill. She just feels too lonely and insecure. It’s weird to say that but she feels safer to sleep in a town filled with raiders than alone in the wild.

F5. How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Fairly handy but on a level of fixing a broken car mirror with a duck tape or just gluing shit together hoping it will hold long enough before it breaks again. If she would fix a door handle it would most probably end up upside down on the other side of the door. And if shit breaks again...she will just shrug and glue it same way again or at least add one more layer of duck tape. Sometimes she will try to convince herself she knows what wire to put where when it comes to electric appliances but she only knows cars and car still ain’t a toaster so....electric shortage and fizzy hair incoming. She needed a manual on shoving a cable inside a robot so yeah. But when it comes to fixing clothes she is as good as with cars. Even if some parts can be similar like in car engine of sort she still has hard time to connect the dots if seeing something like half similar. So give her a broken car/truck/any clothing she will swing a wrench or needle and fix that shit in no time but hand her a tv pilot or spoken toaster and she will just look at it and ponder..deeply.

F10. Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?

Arts...with her only painting comes to my mind but not like painting a landscape but more things like a car painting, pack faces and more abstract stuff which she learned again in Sapphire club with Rosey due to many events that were having certain themes so they needed to do body paints and so on.

I don’t know if dancing is any kind of art but i can imagine her discovering that pole dance but on a level of these sport like competitions. Lucy is flexible and has enough strength to try to perform this kind of stuff since from already school times she was doing a lot of gym and sport in general.

As to how good she would be at these probably not like perfectly good to very details because even she doesn’t have need to be horribly good. Needs to be good enough to just make her happy and she doesn’t have high standards in these topics. I dunno why i found that question slightly tricky....

G2. Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

The only family she had was her mother since her father left once he could no longer bear with her mental issues and bringing stranger men to house and then getting pregnant with her. I didn’t build up yet like a bigger family tree but..yeah it was just her mother and her most of the time.

H1. What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?

She is 100% heterosexual when it comes to her orientation both romantic and sexual. She can flirt with same sex but that would only include situations when she needs to finish her job or reach some other goal, no feelings involved whatsoever.

H6. Has your OC ever cheated on anyone or been cheated on?

She didn’t catch Ian neither Gage to cheat on her. She tends to flirt with other men like William but wouldn’t take it as far as to sleep with him or do it on purpose to hurt her partner feelings so...she doesn’t cheat. She still has SOME backbone.

H8. What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

She doesn’t have high needs when it comes to perfect date topic. As long as it involves alone time together without additional crowd and some beer she doesn’t care if they sit in a fancy bar or on some building stairs. Perfect date is any that includes relaxed talk, joking, alcohol and a happy ending in bed together. Extra points for bringing her nicely cut flower. Despite being bully, killer and involved with raiders she was looking at late evenings at these white/grey romantic movies where couples were just doing simple things, walking late night together and so on, so her perfect date ain’t complicated.

I1. What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?

As long as its not slimey and gooey like she’s okay. If something of mentioned above would slip into her food she will just puke it out instantly. She prefers salty and sweet tho as her pre-war diet was mostly like so. Salted hard boiled eggs with grilled tatos topped with pinch of salt again and then 200 years old cotton candy for dessert or potato crisps. She eats meat too but like fried till its crunchy.

L2. What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Brain error so i hope i understood this right:

Leaning into the evil side of the society fully confident it’s the only and last right choice to achieve true happiness and satisfy the already croocked mind.

L4. Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

In my real life probably yes but even i would be slightly nervous around her because she tends to bend towards very extreme solutions if some problems would arise or someone would make me angry (due to her empathy) but in fallout universe hell yeah, i’m just not sure i would be in a physical capability to keep up with her but i wouldn’t mind to get a legendary cane..along with it...But yeah, i would like to hang out for a beer and see her beat some stupid folks and maybe give a her a friendly hug to remind her she isn’t that bad and she will be fine....and apologize for burning her hands lol. If she would find out i’m her creator..oh boy, i’m sure she would beat me with my own cane over the head.

L9. How did you come up with your OC?

I had different OC design before but she was actually just a general good joking hero, she even had a brother but that got lost later on and that male oc was left just for MMO’s as an additional character. Then a lot of things happened in my life and because i was gaming since early childhood like Norton times and..the pixelated Blizzard Blackthorne it also affected my rpg and game choices in general, like whole way of thinking since gaming was and is big part of my life. I was curious what would happen if i take my oc through the mental change grinder and push it to the edge, towards losing the patience for justice systems and add a pinch of evil mixed with some trauma to give her some reason to choose that path. And there she is. Her face features didn’t change much, neither body type and so on but her mentality is hell of a different and i just...love her. She isn’t perfect, neither that horribly bad but i’m very pleased with how she came out. I threw a glove and was done with playing hero at some point because of life experiences and she came out of my cauldron as a best way to peacefully calm down. As for Harrison he was suppose to be just a small mention in pre-war diary but for some reason my brain pushed it forward and i really don’t mind him as an extra OC. Besides Lucy needs someone to watch over her.

Allllrighty, Harrison time:

K1. Does your OC have to keep their paranormal aspect (PA) a secret from general society? If so, how? I.e., they can’t discuss their abilities, they have to hide a tail, they have an alter-ego, et cetera. What would happen if society found out about it?

Yes, he has to hide his powers. He is one of a kind and experiment never got finished so his powers are something no one seen before. I’m sure that lab is still buried somewhere near Sanctuary deep in forests containing old data and so on but the place got abandoned and no one found it yet. I can imagine tho that the cryo vault could have been like a last remaining section cut off from the rest as it also was touching a subject of immortality...i mean..a way of not aging. Usually the green smoke will always rise from his body and eyes at times so he prefers to hide his face under the hat and keep fully covered body with that long brown coat and thick gloves. Also he doesn’t look very friendly so it helps him keep folks at distance before they notice something unusual. I can’t imagine how people would react if they knew about his powers but they for sure would be just wary and scared i think. And all in all he has a synth skeleton so more hate from most of the Commonwealth population. He also needs to keep his emotions at check as his powers are driven by a strong sense of desire so if he would really really want to harm someone he would have harder time at controlling his powers before they snap. That’s why he is always so...stoic and calm.

K3. Does your OC have any friends who know about their PA? Any enemies?

Lucy suspected before and she has a memory from childhood, then she finds out herself on a go and Gage also knows because he was present during the event. Later on she tells Lizzie and Chip Morse because she needs help to repair his synth broken body due to how the...separation came out. Harrison doesn’t tell anyone else unless its necessary. The only enemy out there would be the lead scientist if he somehow survived the bombs and is still out there, looking for him.

Also...i didn’t mean to make it like that but its just how it came out due to most...common and fast thought design. That lead scientist had grey hair and wore a black mask on half of his face....and that would make the air even more rotten between...someone particular out there :))

K5. Does your OC feel isolated or unrelatable due to the experience their PA brings with it? If so, how do they deal with it?

He does feel lonely since he is too afraid to meet new people or even spend too much time in a bar. He would mostly stick to lone table in a corner, being too afraid on not controlling his powers if his mind and emotions lose breaks. He was a family man, not perfect father but still, getting that taken away and changing your life 180 degrees can sometimes upset him and the only way to cool down is just to stick to people he can trust which is Lucy and her gang. Its his only family now. He doesn’t push away the idea of trying again, meeting a woman, making a family, being a better father but is just too scared of that. Also he doesn’t need much sleep as normal person so...this doesn’t help him either.

K6. Does their PA cause issues in daily life? I.e., if they’re inhuman in a human universe and they can’t go to a doctor or risk the doctor realizing they are not human, super abilities with physical drawbacks, they don’t have control of their abilities and must keep to themselves, et cetera… If so, how do they feel about it?

It causes him a lot of issues. Despite hot weather he still needs to keep his clothes on to not reveal the power radiating from him. His hat always in crowds, even inside the buildings to not risk shining with his eyes too much. Shades can help tho at times. But people might find it weird, accuse him of being another synth and attack him and that would cause more problems because if he snaps people will see his powers. He needs to keep his head low all the time and just act as a shady dangerous mercenary, out of unnecessary questions and troubles.

K7.Does your OC’s PA affect their dietary habits so that they are unusual or problematic by their society’s standards?

Even if he actually doesn’t need to eat he still will because he isn’t fully synth but just himself in a form of soul trapped in such a body. His eating habits are still the same as they were but..he might overdo his craving at times...eating like a kilograms of food just because he remembered it was his favorite and he wants it now and he will feel the taste and satisfaction but because his stomach isn’t human he doesn’t feel when he is full so....yeah. Eating whole cart of cotton candy at one go. It might feel weird to people who don’t know him but he is a big man so they might assume it’s maybe because of his size...and just being freaking hungry.

K8. What are some routines, if any, of self-care that your OC must engage in that are not typical of their society? I.e., having to file their teeth, maintaining magical rituals, drinking blood…

He needs to meditate like a lot to keep his powers better contained and controlled since they sync with his mindset.. Sometimes he will do it for hours, be it standing, siting, he will just disconnect and meditate.

K9. Does your OC have knowledge that they can’t share with the rest of their world that could improve it if it didn’t cause chaos? I.e., a character from the future knowing about technology not yet invented, but they can’t reveal themselves by sharing it

He is the only one knowing the location of the lab but he keeps that knowledge only to Lucy. He can’t imagine what could happen if they would create armies of....entities like him. Being able to inject soul from body to body could solve a lot of health like issues and give a hell of disabled people new chance but you can never know what direction this could go.

K10. Would your OC give up their PA if they could? Why or why not?

Even if it ruined his life he wouldn’t give it up. He lost his family not because of who she became but because he was fucking irresponsible by taking his son to work and killing them both. His wife was furious and refused to take him home again even if she was freshly pregnant that time. His powers allowed him to protect her anyway without her knowledge and because he is at age he is, these powers still keep him as a extremely dangerous man able to fight. Even if giving it up could give him a better chance of starting a family again he prefers to be able to protect these that are still left in his life than failing or die trying. So he is over the grief and learned to live with how he is, accepting his powers and putting them to good use.

#rockshortage #fallout #ask meme #lucy feit #harrison #hell yeah i did it #not everything is very detailed but i think i again got all of dem right #and oh boy i was happy with that K section #if anything still needs details you can poke me bout them #thank you!#it kept me busy and happy after work

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thedeviltohisangel · 5 years

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He’s A God, He’s A Man: 8

It’s a delicate business.

masterlist is my url/writing

send me your thoughts!

Lydia could have basked in the new glow of love that surrounded her and Tommy for the rest of her life. Just the two of them standing nose placing gentle kisses to each others lips. It was soft and sweet and safe and so unlike the real world that they found themselves living in.

“I have a meeting soon,” he murmured as he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and let his hand rest there.

“Do you need anything from me?” Lydia couldn’t help the bit of the thrill she got from being involved in the Blinder business. Not only did it show that she was capable of playing these games in a man’s world but it also showed she could fit in the Shelby’s world. She also thought that if Tommy would let her be involved then she could help to keep him safe. It didn’t take long to understand he didn’t have much of a regard for his own life.

“No, just work your shift like it’s a completely normal day,” he brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss to it, “afterwards we can go see a picture. Can probably get the room to ourselves if you’d like.” He grinned cheekily and she grinned right back. Tommy kissed her one last time on the forehead before dipping back into his private room. He wanted to show off the fact that he was happy and in love with the whole world but also keep her safe from those that would wish to use her in order to hurt him.

Lydia could clearly tell his business was with the Irish when she heard the thick accents of the men who walked into The Garrison. She knew Tommy was considering them for the guns he was still in possession of and also as allies against Campbell. The bruises on her wrist had healed but Tommy could still see them every time he looked. He would see them until Campbell paid for it. She pressed her ears to the thin wall that separated her from the meeting and listened, trying to understand as much as she could. Campbell had sent a messenger to her the night before. Telling her that if she didn’t start providing him information, he would terminate her. She believed him to be a man that followed through on his threats. She heard the man mention The Black Swan as a place where him and his men gathered. It wasn’t intelligence on guns or the Blinders but it was about the IRA. Perhaps that would be enough to satiate him.

Tommy came out shaking the man’s hand before turning to watch Lydia wiping down a glass. “Shall I tell Harry to give you the rest of the day off?”

“Let me bring the garbage out and I will tell him myself.”

“I can do it.” Tommy moved towards the bag of waste that sat at the end of the bar.

“I got it. Let me be somewhat useful and productive before I get stolen away,” she teased. Tommy smiled and pecked her quickly.

“Be fast. I’m not a patient man in general but knowing an empty theater with you awaits me does nothing to help the fact.” She laughed as she stepped out into the back alley where Harry had the waste collect before someone came to collect it.

“You enjoying spying on conversations, lass?” Lydia froze and looked to see one of the men Tommy had just been meeting with.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

“I know what pretty girls like you do in bars owned by men like him.” He produced a knife from the inside of his jacket. “Taking your tongue should keep you quiet.” Lydia ducked as he lunged at her, rolling away from the man but also farther from the door back into the pub. She grabbed the handle of a broom on the ground and blindly swung it at him as she continued to scramble backwards. One particularly hard swing to his wrist knocked the knife from his grasp.

“Tommy!” she screamed. Just as the man bent down with his hands poised to enclose around her throat, she felt the knife in her fingertips. Without even thinking about it her hand grabbed the knife and plunged into her attackers neck. He looked at her with absolute shock on his face. Tommy appeared in the doorway as the man stumbled backwards with a hand to his neck and blood trickling between his fingers.

Tommy was able to understand what had transpired within seconds and stalked over to the wounded man. He removed the knife from his neck and the bleeding increased. “I’ll make sure you bleed out slowly.” He dropped him before looking back at Lydia who had blood spattered across her face and blouse. She was breathing heavy and couldn’t look away from the man slumped against the wall.

“Did I kill him?” she whispered. She didn’t kill people. She helped them. As a nurse she had taken great pride in helping men who were wounded. In prolonging their life. Now she was responsible for ending one. Tommy crudely wiped his hand on his pants to get rid of the blood that had been on the knife when he grabbed it.

“Don’t look at him. Look at me. You protected yourself, yeah? Did what you had to do in order to keep yourself safe.” He shrugged off his coat and wrapped it around her shoulders, tucking her against her chest so she didn’t have to look at the dying man. “Let’s go home and get you cleaned up.”

Tommy brought Lydia to Watery Lane where he left her in the care of Polly before enlisting Arthur and John to help him dispose of the body. They didn’t even bother to bury it. The man didn’t deserve it. They threw him in The Cut instead.

“Where is she?” Tommy asked when he walked through the door and saw Polly drinking tea by the fire and Lydia nowhere in sight.

“Still having a good wash. She stopped shaking once all the blood was off. Asked me to burn her clothes.” Tommy looked to the fire and saw the pile of ash from her skirt and blouse.

“Thank you, Pol.” His aunt merely nodded as he took the stairs two at a time. He paused in front of the washroom. It would be wrong to just barge in like a bull in a china shop. She needed calm and support. Not a man on the edge with the gleam in his eye he got after a night of business. Tommy swallowed, rolled his shoulders and raised his hand to knock gently at the door.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me. Tommy.”

“Come in.” Lydia sat up straighter in the basin and took a deep breath as Tommy stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.

“Is the water warm enough?” he asked. She nodded. “I’m sorry that happened to you today. He’s been dealt with.”

“You have some blood on your face,” she said with a wave of her hand. Tommy sat down next to the basin as she moved a dap cloth to his cheek, tenderly wiping away the blood. He closed his eyes as she dropped her forehead to rest against his. “It had nothing to do with you, Tommy. He didn’t try to hurt me because of your feelings. He thought I was spying on your conversation with him. Wanted to keep me quiet.” Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew Tommy had been beating himself up over the incident. She knew he was blaming himself. Blaming his love for her.

“It’s my job to keep you safe. I won’t let anything like that come close to happening ever again.” If it was the last thing he ever did, she would never feel hopeless like that ever again.

“Forever and ever?” she teased. She was absentmindedly scratched his scalp and it was making him feel sleepy.

“Forever and ever.”

----

“Lydia, can you help me make breakfast?” She looked up from where she had been reading the paper on the couch to see young Finn Shelby looking distraught in the doorway to the kitchen. “I can’t reach the milk.” Lydia smiled. After Finn had knocked over the last glass bottle, Polly had taken to storing it beyond his reach.

“Of course, Finny.” She ruffled his hair as they both went back into the kitchen. “What if we make ourselves a nice proper breakfast?” Finn nodded excitedly. Lydia had decided to take a couple of days off from The Garrison in order to relax after the ordeal she had just been through. Tommy had tried to convince her to quit altogether but she needed something to do besides lurking around Watery Lane.

“I like my toast with extra butter,” Finn informed her a little while later as the two of them sat down with their proper English breakfast of beans, toast, eggs, bangers and tomato.

“Here you, sir,” Lydia said handing him back his piece of bread. Finn smiled wide before digging into his food.

“Thank you, Lydia. You should stay here forever,” he mumbled around a bite of his breakfast.

“Would you like that?” Now that things with her and Tommy were official, she was doing her best to be on the top of her game around his family. Their acceptance was incredibly important to whatever future they hoped to have together.

“You could be like my sister!” he pointed out happily. Lydia beamed with pride.

“I would love that very much, Finn.” She reached across the table and Finn met with halfway, letting her grab his hand and give it a loving squeeze.

“Lydia! Finn!” The gentle moment was broken as Ada came running frantically into the kitchen. “Have you seen Tommy?” Lydia shook her head, swallowing the bite of food she had in her mouth and wiping the residue off her fingers with a napkin.

“Is something wrong?” Ada’s tone was concerning. And it was natural in this family to need something from Tommy if things were going horribly wrong.

“I think him and Freddie are going to kill each other,” she groaned. Lydia stood and led the Shelby girl out of the kitchen so Finn could continue to eat his meal peacefully.

“Tommy probably just wants to scare him a little bit. You’re his little sister and deep down Tommy knows how you and Freddie feel about each other.” Tommy had mumbled late at night when they were in bed together and his guard was down that he wasn’t necessarily upset that his sister was married or pregnant. He was upset that Freddie and his lifestyle would prevent his sister from being happy, always. “Why don’t you take a seat, Ada?” Lydia was also thinking about the impending addition to the Shelby-Thorne cadre. All this stress and anxiety couldn’t be good for the little bub.

“I have to find them,” Ada muttered weakly as Lydia gently stroked her hair and her eyes felt heavier.

“Have a rest, Ada, I’ll handle your brother.”

----

Tommy felt the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders when he entered Watery Lane to see Lydia minding the fire. Everyone else was off doing their own thing, Finn having been tucked in with chocolate on his face from the cookies they made, and she was enjoying the peace of the quiet and domesticity.

“This is a lovely sight to have at the end of the day.” After stumbling upon her in the alley yesterday, Tommy was just happy to see her sturdy and in one piece. The color on her cheeks was a good sign as was the pile of books on the center table.

“Did you have a good day?”

“Stressful but better now.” Tommy was warmed by the mundane comfort someone asking how is day was brought. Normally people jumped down his throat as soon as they saw him. Lydia was patient. Took her time. It was what he needed.

“Shall I poor us a drink?” She didn’t wait for his answer, taking two of the nice crystal glasses in the corner and filling them with an amber liquid, bringing them to him for a cheers. “I missed you today,” she mused after a sip.

“Did Finn behave?”

“Like an angel. I kept him fed and busy.”

“Well, we can’t be letting him get too used to it,” Tommy said, downing the rest of his drink and placing it on the mantle. He went behind Lydia and pulled her back to his chest, kissing the side of her neck.

“And why is that?”

“I’m going to get us out of here, one day. Buy us a beautifully big home in the country with lots of grass and fresh air.” Tommy began to sway the two of them from side to side. Lydia closed her eyes and relaxed into his touch and the soothing motions of his rocking.

“I like the sound of all that. Our own little castle,” she mused. It sounded like a dream. She could live there in her head forever. “For the sake of our happy little future, Thomas, would you be able to cut your sister some slack?” Tommy pulled back from her ever so slightly.

“So she’s gotten to you.” It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. He pulled himself away and went to pour another drink.

“She was so worried you and Freddie were going to kill each other today. She loves both of you and it hurts so deeply to see you aren’t getting along.” Tommy scoffed.

“It’s because I love her that I won’t leave her be. Freddie has a target on his back and associating with him puts one on her as well.

“I just think, before the baby comes, everyone should try to work out their differences.” Lydia approached Tommy slowly and used her hand to direct his face so he was looking at her. “He loves her the same way you love me.”

“No. It’s very different. I would know when to walk away for your own safety.”

“And you know that I wouldn’t let you.”

“Because you’re stupidly stubborn,” he stated back, downing his drink all in one go.

“Because I love you. The same way she loves him. You’re just trying to delay the inevitable.” She softened her voice. Lydia knew Tommy loved his sister and was truly doing what he thought best. The thought warmed her heart.

“Perhaps I can consider loosening my ban on Freddie Thorne.” Lydia smiled.

“Tommy Shelby, going soft for love,” she teased.

“For the woman I love,” he clarified. Without a second thought, he reached forward and brought his fingertips to her waist, tickling in the same spot that made all of them laugh. Lydia squeaked and tried to push him away but it only spurred him further. Maybe Tommy was going soft. But only for her. Only around her. He thinks her love made him stronger. And he was going to need it.

@flecksphoenix @girl-w-a-quill @odetostep @itsilvermorny @shadow-of-wonder

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction

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peakysabrina · 4 years

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Dark Horse: chapter 7

Y’all I’m sorry for uploading all the chapter but I’ve gotten a surge of inspo. Hope you enjoy this!! Warning: a bit of angst

The weather had become worse and worse, after the sunny morning Birmingham had experienced. There was wind, there was rain, there was even thunder and lightning. For those who were in bed, comfortable and warm, it was of absolutely no consequence; but for those without four strong walls around them, it had to be scary, cold, and an altogether unfortunate state of affairs. Ada belonged to the first group: tucked in under a heavy blanket and a comforter, she couldn't possibly feel more priviledged. Her body was peaceful, but her mind... was a different story. A very, very different story. And her worry, because it was worry, had a name, a face, a reason: Georgia Gold. Not because she was a death penalty brooding over the Shelbies, but because she had nothing but wood separating her from the elements. Was she cold? Was she coughing, shivering? Did she have blankets, or was she forced to rely on thin sheets?

Sure enough, Polly had been right when she said that something had been left behind. Ada should've known better than to ignore her aunt's words, given that they were always quite on the nose. No one knew how she did that, and no one wanted to know: what mattered was never to ignore those gifts, and the information they surrendered. So Ada, a modern and intelligent woman, would admit to the truth, but only in the solitude of her own bed. Yes, Gigi was a beautiful creature, a beautiful person, and a beautiful woman. More than that, she was a woman who understood how Ada felt in relation to Tommy, and had put it into words when no one in his family had been able to.

Maybe it wasn't the fact that Gigi was a woman. Granted, Ada had never thought of herself as the kind of woman who was attracted to other women, but it didn't come as a big shock, nor was it a despleasing realization. What was less appealing was the fact that the object of her attraction was the same person who had dumped, for lack of a better word, six corpses, give or take, in front of herself and her family. But Tommy had said something that hadn't been lost on Ada: Gigi only kills bad people. It made a difference, and a very big one at that, too. It wasn't violence for the sake of violence, it was righting wrongs. Whether Tommy was one of those wrongs, remained to be seen.

Even when one took this into account, and admitting that Ada did have some feelings for Gigi, it didn't mean they went beyond physical attraction, maybe a dash of lust even. She didn't need to fall in love, she didn't need to feel for her what she felt for Freddie. Moreover, in less than three weeks, Gigi would be gone, taking with her any chance of that ever happening. Nothing was necessary, no course of action needed to be defined, nothing had to be addressed.

But what if she was shivering, what if she was uncomfortable, what if she was crying, or in pain? What if the wood wasn't enough to keep the water from inflitrating the vardo, what if the drops of rain and the moist didn't let her sleep? And what if Ada could drive to her camp, whisk her away to her own home, and make sure she would never be cold again?

________________________________________________________________

"You look well" Polly exclaimed, seeing her stepdaughter riding her stallion up her driveway. It was a big victory to get Gigi to accept a lunch invitation, but she eventually had, and it was lovely to see her, dismounting and fixing her dress before hugging her doting stepmother.

"So do you! Thank you for having me" Gigi responded, hugging Polly tightly and entering the home after her.

Polly herself had prepared lunch, which was delicious, and way too much for two slim women. With a bottle of wine and some laughs, time went by quickly, and Polly felt as if she could ask the question that hadn't left her mind ever since the faithful day she'd seen Ada and Gigi together. There was no way to be subtle about it, and Georgia was smart enough to see through those kinds of attempts.

"You remember my Ada, don't you?" Polly simply said, elbows on the table, and fists supporting her chin. Clear as day, she could see something in Gigi's face, a fleeting, yet obvious smile, accompanied by a dilation of the pupils. Of course she remembered Ada; she probably had Ada on her mind even more than Polly did, or anyone else for that fact.

"Your niece, of course. The one who went to pick you up when we first met" Gigi responded, as casually as she possibly could, despite the shiver going up and down her spine.

"I want to confirm something, and I hope you don't mind me asking"

"Not at all, ask away" the young woman encouraged, even though she was terrified of what was coming. She hadn't known Polly for long, but she did know one thing: she could see things no one else could, and could even see more than the individual the information pertained to. Doubtlessly, there was something coming, something that would make all the difference in the world once confirmed.

"You fancy her, don't you?"

"What made you think I do?" Gigi asked, hiding her mouth behind a cloth napkin, under the guise of wiping her mouth after finishing her coffee. "Something I did, something I said?"

"The way you looked at her when she came to pick me up that one time. I could see something, I just don't know what it was" Polly admitted, inhaling and exhaling as quietly as she could, not wanting to miss a single word, a single expression or sigh.

"Well, I can't say you're wrong, because you are not" Gigi responded, trying to force the corners of her mouth to stay still. "I don't know whether I fancy her, or if I just find her to be absolutely and breathtakingly gorgeous"

"Which she is, no two ways about it"

"Could not agree more. I don't know if you know this, but she was the one to parlay with me when I arrived. I was ready to start shooting everyone in that house, and keep their heads as trophies... but she sat down with me, we worked out a deal, and I could reason with her, and her with me, better than anyone in the past. She understands me, and I understand her. Is that fancying someone?" Georgia asked, asking Polly the same question she'd asked herself time and time again. Maybe someone older, someone more experienced could provide an answer, because Gigi herself had arrived to absolutely no conclusion, and it was maddening.

"I think it is, love" Polly confirmed, a widening smile lighting up her tired features. "I think it is. I could see it too, I could see it in the way you looked at her, and could see it in her eyes too. I would say she hasn't come to that conclusion yet, but she will"

"Even if she does feel this way, it would hardly be a good idea to act on such a thing. Once this is dealt with, I'll be going back to Swansea, where I belong, where my home is, and she will stay here, doing business, having her child, probably marrying" Gigi countered, shrugging, wishing she could dismiss it that easily. "It's going to hurt to say goodbye, she's the first person I've ever fancied. But it's how things are, and it's like you said: no two ways about it"

"Is it that set in stone?"

"On my part? It is. And if you decide to come with us, you'll be more than welcome. Ada wouldn't do it, she has a boy, and another little one on the way. She's got ties to this place, she's got others to think about"

"Will you tell her how you feel?" Polly enquired, scared to know the answer, despite already knowing what it would be. "Before you go, I mean"

"Should I?" Gigi replied, gathering her hair and pulling it over her shoulder. "No, I don't think I will, Polly. Some stones are better left unturned"

"And if you some day get a letter from me telling you she's gotten married?"

"It's like I said: it will hurt, but it is what it is. It's 1930, and I cannot expect to marry another woman, or to offer her the good life she's accostumed to. As you very well know, love doesn't put food on your table, or a roof over your head" Gigi chuckled, sucking her teeth, and refusing to cry, even though she wanted to. "I can love her to the moon and back, a million times over, but I can never expect to be with her"

#peaky blinders #polly gray #ada shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction

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greezyscumbag · 5 years

Text

Reunited

Hiiiiiiii. Posting for the first time in ages with a Thomas Shelby imagine, my current baby love thanks to finally starting Peaky Blinders. It might take me a minute to get back into the swing of things but I really hope you guys enjoy this!!!

I love you all and thank you for always supporting me and being so patient. It truly means the world xxxxxxxxx

----

"I can't believe you're finally here." Ada says, perfecting your hair as you watch her movements in the mirror. "You've been promising to come see me for ages."

"I know, I know. Dad's been struggling a lot lately so I've been helping mom in the shop." You explain, Ada smiling sympathetically, the price of war taking it's toll on every man who took part.

She fiddles with your hair for a few more minutes before stepping back, proudly admiring her hard work. "There. It's like you never left."

Truth is, you wished you hadn't. Birmingham was your hometown, the place you spent your childhood, the scent of smoke pulling you back to running round the streets with Ada and the rest of the Shelby clan.

However, when your Grandad died a few years back, you all moved in with her mom and took over the business.

"Now, come on, the others are already out and we've got 6 years of drinking to catch up on."

***

Butterflies flood your stomach as you follow Ada into the pub, nervous to see everyone again after your time away. You were only 15 when you left, barely an adolescent, young and naive. Now, you were a woman, both mentally and physically.

"Fuckin' hell, are my eyes deceiving me?" John is the first to greet you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Little Miss (Y/L/N)."

"Ey, less of the little, you're barely taller than me." You tease, the familiar scent of cigarettes and alcohol helping you feel a little less anxious.

"(Y/N)!" You turn at the sound of the drunken voice, Arthur slinging his arm around your neck and pressing a sloppy kiss to your temple. "Finally, someone who can handle their booze."

You laugh as John rolls his eyes, cigarette hanging from his lips as he ignites the tip. "Where's Tommy?"

"Who needs him when you've got us?" Johnny grins, gesturing to his brother.

"Don't take it personally, John." Ada slips a drink between your fingers, a knowing smile on her face. "He's always been her favourite."

"Oh, piss off." You reply bringing your glass to your lips, the amber liquid burning your throat as you swallow. "I was just wondering, that's all."

"He'll be here soon." John says, refilling your glasses. "Come on, we've got some catching up to do."

The next couple hours pass by in a blur of laughter and liquor, stories from your separated years being shared. You can't remember the last time you felt this happy, this content - this at home.

"Ade, remember when Vinnie Patchett lifted up your skirt?" You ask, Ada choking on her drink, laughter overwhelming her. "You kicked him so hard in the balls he couldn't walk for a week."

"He's lucky I didn't rip them off." She says grinning, leaning back in her seat. "Was that the same day you slipped and fell into the canal?"

"I forgot about that!" You gasp, still able to recall the fear you felt from being unable to swim.

"I've never seen Tommy move so fast." She says, referring to the way he dove into the water and pulled you to safety, you smiling involuntarily at the memory. "He didn't take his eyes off you for ages after that."

Calloused hands place themselves on top of your shoulders, mint and aftershave filling your senses. "If I'd a known you were talking about me, I'd have shown up sooner."

Butterflies fill your stomach, tingles travelling from the top of your spine to the tips of your toes at the voice. Ada wiggles her eyebrows at you teasingly, grinning suggestively.

Spinning around in your chair, you finally set eyes on Thomas Shelby, your breath getting caught in your throat.

You'd forgotten how piercing his eyes were, flecks of blue upon blue as he looks down at you. His whole aura screams authority, a bubble of strength and subtle confidence surrounding his tall, broad figure.

"Aren't you gonna say hello?" He asks, an unlit cigarette between his lips, that boyish charm you remember so well creeping through. He opens his arms widely, your brain finally sending the message to your feet as you stand up and into his embrace, surprised by the firm torso that greets you.

"Hi." You say breathlessly, an involuntary sigh leaving you as you relax in his hold, feeling like that love struck teen all over again. His arms wrap around you tightly, safety and protection surrounding you. "How have you been?"

You pull back reluctantly, his hands slipping down to your lower back, keeping you close. You hold onto his upper arms, expensive fabric sitting beneath your fingertips.

"You know me, just been getting by." He says, stepping back and lighting his cigarette, your skin tingling from where his hands lay moments before.

"Oh don't be so modest, I hear the tales of you, Tommy." You say, watching as the smoke leaves his lips. "Do they ring true?"

"Depends on the tale." He replies coyly, a challenging glint in his eye. "Tell you what, have a drink with me and maybe I'll slip you a few secrets."

"That so?" You ask, crossing your arms, unable to control the smile on your lips. "Some authentic tales from the number one Peaky Blinder himself?"

He nods in confirmation, grinning and holding his hand out for you to take. "Once in a lifetime offer, love."

"Well, in that case," you pause, placing your empty glass into his out stretched hand. "I'm all yours."

***

"I can't believe how much you've changed." Tommy says, dangling his legs over the edge of the canal, grabbing your hand to pull you down next to him. "How longs it been?"

"About six years I think, give or take. I haven't changed that much." You reply, nudging him gently with your shoulder. "You're the one who's got his own empire."

He chuckles at your words, taking off his cap and placing it beside him, his hands finding the whiskey bottle he's brought with him as he pours you a glass.

"I'm just a man trying to make an honest living." He swirls around the drink in his glass, before his eyes find yours again. "I don't remember you looking like that when you left."

"Looking like what?" You challenge, raising your eyebrows, watching him over the rim of your glass. "Something wrong with the way I look?"

"No no, quite the opposite. You're a proper woman now, aren't you?" He says, gesturing towards you. "Your fella at home is a very lucky man."

"Thanks." You respond, "I'll be sure to tell him when he exists."

You feel his eyes burning into the side of your face as you look out to the canal, the moonlight illuminating the water, ripples knocking gently against the wall.

"What about you? Is there a lady in your life?" You ask, leaning back on your hands, the pavement smooth underneath your fingers. You try to hide the joy in your face when he shakes his head, your heart skipping in your chest.

"Just me for now, love." He says, placing a fresh cig between his lips. You can't help but watch as he ignites the end, admiring the way he makes the simplest actions so inticing. "Nobody round here seems to grab my attention."

"Maybe you're just looking in the wrong places." You say non chalantly, finishing your whiskey, using it to fuel your confidence. Shuffling closer to him, your wrap your hand around his wrist, guiding the cigarette that sits between his finger tips towards you.

His attention is focused on you as you wrap your lips around the tip of the tube, cheeks hollowing as you take a drag. Leaning backwards you tilt your head back, smoke escaping from your lips and into the open air.

"Is that so?" He questions, you nodding in response. "Where should I be looking, then?"

You think on it for a moment, psyching yourself up, not wanting to lose your chance to hesitation and overthinking. "You know what they say, sometimes the best things in life are right infront of you."

Seconds pass, your words lingering in the air. You start to regret being so bold, so foolish for even considering that the guy sitting next to you would even look at you in any way other than his sister's childhood friend.

Those thoughts come to a stop, however, when you feel his lips upon your own, you so in shock that you forget what to do for a moment, your body stiff.

He starts to pull away, your senses finally kicking into gear as you grasp at his blazer, pulling him back to you. His lips may be soft but his kisses are drastically different, passionate and hungry, like he's been waiting for this moment for a lifetime.

His hands grip at your hips, fingers digging in as his tongue slips into your mouth, mind foggy and dreamlike as you arch into his touch, every cell of your body on it's highest sensitivity.

"(Y/N)." He groans, your fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm torso, moving closer and closer to where he desperately wants them. You catch his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling lightly, enjoying the way his hold on you tightens, keeping you right where he wants you.

You can't stop the whine that leaves you as he pulls away from you, his pupils dark and dialated. Heavy breaths leave your mouth as you try to catch your breath, his hand cupping your face as his thumb traces over your lower lip.

"As much as I want to, and believe me, I really fucking want to," he says, you laughing breathlessly at his words. "It's not exactly the most private of places."

You laugh breathlessly, common sense agreeing with his words but your body defying them, skin tingling and thighs aching as you gaze at his lips, your mind racing with thoughts so impure they'd make the devil look tame.

Leaning closer to him, you brush your lips against his ear, fingertips remembering their path as they trace over Tommy's thighs, creeping their way up slowly. A sigh leaves his lips as you palm him over his trousers, his cock pushing against it's restraints.

"We better get going then."

***

#tommyshelby #thomas #shelby #tommy #peaky blinders #peaky #blinders #netflix #x reader #tommy x reader #smut #fluff #birmingham #greezyscumbag #john shelby #arthur #writing #imagine

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