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#ada shelby × reader
Everyone: *chatting around the dining room table for a family dinner*
Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*
Y/N: Thanks, dad
Everyone: *stops talking and stares*
Y/N: *confused* Why is everyone staring at me?
Ada: You just called Tommy ‘dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad’
Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’
Tommy: Do you see me as a father figure, N/N?
Y/N: Pftt- no! If anything, I see you as a bother figure, cause you’re always bothering me!
John: Hey! Show your father some respect!
Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!
Tommy: No, no, Y/N, I take it as a compliment
Arthur: It’s no big deal. I called Linda ‘mom’ once and she’s my wife!
Y/N: Guys, jump on that! Arthur has psycho issues!!
Finn: Old news. But you called Tommy ‘dad’
Y/N: Guys, for the last time, I didn’t call Tommy ‘dad’!
Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-
Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you
Tommy: -daughter. You want to talk about it later over a game of catch?
Y/N:
Y/N: *tears up* I'd like that
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obsessedwithhotmen · 2 months
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⋆⁎✿ Peaky ⇢ *- Giving Them Head -* ⇠ Blinders ✿⁎⋆
⇾ (Peaky Blinders) multiple characters x reader
⇾ Summary: Peaky blinders characters reaction to you giving them head.
⇾ Warnings: nsfw, oral (male and female receiving) rough (head shoving, hip thrusting) use of pet names, semi public, exhibition? Degrading words.
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Aberama Gold:
⇾ Aberama felt the need to be sweet and gentle with your pretty young mouth.
⇾ He’d guide you along with soft words of encouragement, letting you know what you should do.
⇾ “There you go, my love…” or “your doing so good f’me.”
⇾ He’d be relaxed against the chair or bed he was sitting on, arms out behind him as he watched you through hooded eyes.
⇾ His eyes would never stray away from you face.
⇾ Aberama loved the way you looked giving him head, he liked watching as your eyes either watered after so long, or fluttered closed in order to not distract yourself.
⇾ Besides from speaking, I can’t imagine him being very vocal, other than letting out quiet grunts that would edge you along.
⇾ You would make it your mission to try and get a moan or at least a groan from him, but it was proven to be very difficult.
-
It wasnt often that you and Aberama got to have privacy, but when you did you made sure to enjoy the time and make it worth while.
As soon as you both got time alone, you immediately dropped to your knees after pushing him down into the chair in your shared caravan and before you knew it, your lips were wrapped around his length.
He watched lovingly as your head bobbed up and down on his cock, enjoying the way you took your time in order to draw out his orgasm.
Aberama would let his eyes shut briefly before opening them again once he realized so he could focus on on your face. He watched as your eyes squinted the more you took him into your mouth. “S’alright, love. Don’t have to go all the way.” He would breath out, brushing away a strand of hair that fell before your eyes, covering your expression from his watchful gaze.
“Feels so good.” He’d rest his hand on your cheek, caressing lightly as you continued.
Once he’d cum, he’d help you up to your feet, letting you sit down in the chair. “Take care of me so well, don’t ya?”
Ada Shelby:
⇾ At first she would be shy, biting her lip to contain her moans, nervous to have her legs spread for you, covering her face whenever she’d be embarrassed.
⇾ After the first couple of times of giving her head, she would begin to open up to you literally…
⇾ Ada would be more open to trying things with you until she learns how much she enjoys your head in her thighs with her hands in your hair.
⇾ She constantly would be tugging and pulling at your hair to guide you in the position she wants you in.
⇾ There is no such thing as teasing Ada Shelby.
⇾ Her sweet moans would fill the room, encouraging you to do more with your mouth and tongue.
⇾ You’d swirl your tongue around her little bud which would send a string of moans to exit her lips while she would grind against your mouth.
-
“Y/n!” Your tongue flicked her clit repetitively before returning to her hole. Slurping sounds could be heard from down below as you sucked on her pussy, encouraging her orgasm the more you continued.
Your hands found her stomach as she arched off the bed, holding her down. Once you were certain she wouldn’t lift her hips again, your hand would trail up her stomach to her chest, squeezing gently at her tits before pinching her nipples, causing higher pitched moans to fall out of her mouth.
You couldn’t help but giggle at her reactions making her tug roughly at your hair, this time earning a moan in response from you at the feeling of roughness from the girl beneath you.
“I’m…” she trailed off, eyes rolling back as she breathed heavily, “I’m close, love.” She would moan.
This time, you allowed for her to grind herself against your mouth, letting Ada use you to get herself off.
Her hips would stutter as an orgasm washed over you until she rode out her high and was breathless against the bed.
Arthur Shelby:
⇾ Arthur was notorious for being very rough in bed, and you’d expect nothing less when it came to giving him head.
⇾ Depending on how experienced you were, he’d be nice at first (not shoving your head, not thrusting his hips)
⇾ But once he was certain that you were used to sucking his cock, was when Arthur Shelby would truly come out.
⇾ Arthur would be relentless with the way he’d fuck himself with your mouth, practically using you as a warm hole to satisfy his needs.
⇾ Obsessed with making you gag.
⇾ He’d even enjoy the feeling of your teeth lightly grazing his length.
⇾ Not afraid to make noises, especially when it came to grunting. He had nothing to be ashamed of, after all it wasn’t him that was being fucked.
⇾ If he wasn’t using his hips (if he was sitting down) he’d guide you by your head, holding you down and making you take everything.
⇾ If you weren’t swallowing his cum afterwards, than you were doing something wrong.
-
You were struggling to breathe through your nose as you were held all the way down until he was balls deep in your mouth.
Sounds of gagging could be heard as you were forced to choke around his cock. “Keep going love, fuck me.”
Once he finally loosened his hold, you would pull yourself of his dick, breathing heavily as you used your hand to get him off while you recovered.
He’d smile down at you, loving the tears that trickled down your cheeks. “Almost there, sweetheart.” Arthur would groan.
You would sit on your knees, mouth wide opened as Arthur finished himself off, waiting expectantly.
And as his cum hits your tongue, you would immediately swallow it whole, knowing that if you didn’t then it would be a long day for everyone.
Bonnie Gold:
⇾ Bonnie is a mixture, he gives me very soft dom vibes. Like he could be rough, but in a gentle way.
⇾ He’s not shy about what he wants and after your comfortable in the relationship than he won’t be afraid to ask certain things from you, so long as their within your boundaries.
⇾ While Bonnie is (in my head) a giver more than a receiver, he does thoroughly enjoy the times you give him head.
⇾ He doesn’t expect you to take all of him, nor does he push your head down, but he will rest a hand in your hair, simply just holding it there for comfort.
⇾ He is a man that loves to have his balls fondled with, so if you give him head while you softly massage his balls then he might just burst within mere seconds of you touching him.
⇾ Ensures that your having a good time as well, 69….
⇾ Doesn’t expect you to swallow his cum… unless of course you want to.
⇾ Bonnie is definitely a vocal guy, not afraid to praise you and not afraid to be loud depending on who could potentially be around.
⇾ If his family’s around then he will try to be quiet for your sake, but if it’s other Peaky Blinders than he tends to be louder, for his sake in order to let everyone know what they’re missing out on.
-
You couldn’t help yourself after watching Bonnie once again win another boxing fight with ease, he was just too hot for you to handle.
As soon as he entered the changing rooms you had practically jumped in, smothering him in kisses before helping him clean up any wounds or blood before getting straight to business.
This time he didn’t bother trying to stop you like he normally would, as a matter of fact, he watched with excitement as you dropped to your knees and pulled out his length, immediately placing it in your mouth.
You hummed around his cock as he called out your name, feeling a sense of pride wash over from his reaction.
“You’re perfect…” he slurred, eyes fluttering shut from the overwhelming pleasure.
He had his hands fisted by his sides before eventually they crept up to your head as he held your hair back and out of the way for you. “Love you.” He groaned, stuttering in the slightest as your hands met his balls.
His hips jerked unintentionally and a string of ‘sorrys’ could be heard from the moaning man. “I’m gonna cum, love.”
He wasn’t able to protest to you allowing for him to cum in your mouth as he was hit with his orgasm, body tensing at the feeling rushing through him.
Finn Shelby:
⇾ My shy boy.
⇾ He’d like to pretend he knows exactly what’s going to happen and that he’s tough like his brothers to not be seen as weak (for example moaning etc)
⇾ But the second your tongue touches his tip, Finn is a wreck.
⇾ Definitely cums in mere seconds the first time, but he’d learn eventually.
⇾ Doesn’t like being rough with you, despite his brothers encouraging him to be as rough as possible, he likes knowing your having a good time as well.
⇾ Will always give you head in return.
⇾ A bit ashamed of being very vocal, tries to keep it to minimal groans, not often moans and a lot of suppressed grunts.
⇾ Doesn’t say much other than your name and ‘fuck’ when he groans.
⇾ Likes to cum on your face rather than directly in your mouth.
-
Finn was on his last straws as he attempted to draw his orgasm out, he didn’t want to cum to quick like the last time.
His bottom lip was between his teeth, his back was pressed against the bed as he avoided watching you go to work on his cock, knowing he would burst as soon as he opened his eyes to look at you.
He hissed as he felt your nails dig into his thighs as you pushed yourself further down his length, the sounds of you choking around him being his final straw.
Finn sat up with haste, shoving your head off of him right as his cum started to trickle out.
He jerked himself off over your face, eyes locked on the way you opened up wide for him, tongue waiting patiently for his seed.
“Fuck…” he groaned, squeezing out the last drop.
He breathed heavily as he laid back down on the bed, chest rising up and down. “Your turn now.” He smirked, watching as you laid beside him.
And just like that, he was up and ready to go again.
Isaiah Jesus:
⇾ An absolute whore of a man, but I love him so it’s okay.
⇾ Has high expectations for what he wants and what you should do for him.
⇾ A man of teasing.
⇾ Will happily deny himself of pleasure if it mean my teasing you with his cock.
⇾ Likes to embarrass you and will make you beg to suck him off. “What do ya’ say, sweetheart?” Or “beg for it.”
⇾ Not a head pusher but a hip thruster on occasion, but most the time he likes to just leave you to do all the work.
⇾ Isaiah definitely brags about your skills to his mates, wants everyone to know what they’re missing out on.
⇾ Tells other women that offer themselves to him that they can’t suck his cock as well as his partner can.
⇾ Teases you about it in front of his friends and is definitely into having you suck him off in a relatively public area.
-
“Please, Isaiah,” you begged, lips pouting as you stared at his cock that he held in the grasp of his hand, shaking it and teasing it in front of your face. “I’ll be good,” you told him, reaching a hand up only for him to smack it away.
“Can’t hear ya’, love. Try again,” he smirked, watching you with amusement in his eyes as your pleading.
The whine that escaped your lips had him tapping the tip of his cock on your lips, tongue darting out to taste the tiny bit of precum that stayed on your bottom lips.
“Please, Isaiah,” you tried again, “I want your cock…” you trailed, mouth watering at the sight of his veiny dick being teased in front of your eyes.
“Alright, open up,” your mouth opened immediately, eyes closing as you awaited the warm pressure to hit your tongue, to which you immediately moaned at the feeling. “There ya’ go…” he hissed as your mouth closed around his dick.
Isaiah groaned as he felt the vibrations through his cock from you moaning around him, enjoying the feeling and taste on your tongue. “Such a little whore for my cock, aren’t ya’?”
John Shelby:
⇾ Like Isaiah, he is very cocky and likes to hear you beg for his dick, gives him a little power trip every time.
⇾ Wont move at all, likes to make you do all the work so he can watch you desperately trying to get him off.
⇾ Sits back, hands behind his head and relaxes while you do all the work for him.
⇾ Expects you to suck him off whenever he’s horny, especially if you’re out in public.
⇾ Will pull you to a private area and expect you to get on your knees for him.
⇾ “Come on, on your knees.”
⇾ Will watch you with a smug smirk on his face.
⇾ Expects you to look at him when you suck him off.
-
Your knees pressed harshly on the stone cold floor of the Garrison bathroom, your hands were placed on John’s thighs as you took him down your throat, head bobbing back and forth.
“Look so pretty f’me. Cock shoved down your throat.” John cooed, smirking down at you as he teased you. “You can take a little more, can’t ya’?”
You nodded your head to the best of your ability, humming around his length as you pushed him further in. “There you go.”
You knew he wouldn’t move, he much preferred letting you do all the work while he laid back and relaxed, but you still couldn’t help placing your hands on his thighs in a way of holding him back.
You kept moving your head, taking his dick in your mouth, feeling the warmth of him weighing down on his tongue. He was getting closer, you knew he was based off the way he grew restless.
You paused as his release came, and it was then that he held your head down, keeping you as close as possible as he shot his load down your throat.
Michael Gray:
⇾ doesn’t often want a bj, most of the time he just wants to fuck and prefers to do so, nothing to do with your skills, just a personal preference of his.
⇾ But when he does, depending on what kind of work day it is, he makes sure your entirely comfortable, won’t push your head down, won’t move his hips.
⇾ But if it’s one of those stressful days where it seems everything’s against him, best believe he will take out his stress on you.
⇾ If you tease him or do something to annoy him, best believe he will give you attitude back, and if you ask him then he will call you names.
⇾ Is a people pleaser so he will do whatever you want him to do, even if it requires being a bit mean to you.
-
It started off slow and passionate, you had been taking his length in your mouth, enjoying yourself as you sucked him off, but you couldn’t help but begin to feel a bit bored, as Michael had seemed distracted.
You did what you had to do, gave him a bit of lip before Michael was returning back the same attitude, using his ‘boss’ tone on you.
“Go on then, you want me to cum? Then fucking make me cum.” He growled, tapping the tip of his dick against your bottom lip as you whined. “S’all your good for.” He didn’t mean it, you know he didn’t, but boy did it turn you on.
You placed him back into your mouth, this time feeling a lot more enthusiastic, moving at a quicker pace. “Much better, eh? Don’t have to listen to you speak now.”
Thomas Shelby:
⇾ not nice at all, never nice.
⇾ Will force his cock down your throat, and won’t feel bad about it.
⇾ Like Arthur, he is obsessed with hearing you gag around his size, doesn’t think it’s good unless he hears you.
⇾ Would sit at his desk doing work while you suck him off, or if he’s having a meeting with someone over the phone.
⇾ The only time he won’t forced your head down is if you’re sucking him off under the table with one of his business partners sat opposite him.
⇾ Likes to watch you squirm so he will speak of you in front of his family or just other people in general with absolutely no shame.
-
You moved slowly, bobbing your head at a rate where you wouldn’t be choking around his size. Tommy was having a meeting with some man about business, but even that couldn’t stop him from denying his needs.
He ordered you to his office and demanded you sat under his desk while he conducted business with the stranger.
You lifted your head up, prepared to give yourself a breather while you stroked him up, but all of a sudden, Tommy had shoved your head down, clearing his throat and making some noise in order to cover the sound of you gagging. “You can have 5% and I’ll give you a bottle of my whiskey.”
You could hardly hear the response of the man over the sound of your own gargling, but you knew he wouldn’t be happy with deal. Tommy let your head move, but ensured that your lips stayed wrapped around his cock. You paused your movement, using this time to breath through your nose whilst your hand fondled with his balls.
Suddenly you were let up for air, breathing heavily, when Tommy slid out from his desk. “Come on, out you get.” He moved out of your way. “When I come back, I want you bent over this desk.”
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missmomof3 · 2 months
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Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)
Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.
Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.
TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.
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"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.
"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.
You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.
He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.
So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.
Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.
"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."
Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.
"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.
So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.
You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.
"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."
"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.
Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.
When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.
But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.
That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.
This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.
The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.
The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.
Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.
For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.
While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.
Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.
Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.
"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.
Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.
Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.
Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.
Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.
Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.
Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.
Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.
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corrupte3d-mindz · 3 months
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Forever a Shelby
Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader
Summary: Thomas and you get married.
Wordcount: 4.2k
Warnings:
protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,
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Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"
Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.
Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.
“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle
Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.
“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.
The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.
Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.
Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”
Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.
Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.
Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.
Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.
He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.
Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.
The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.
Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.
"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.
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The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.
"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.
"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.
John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.
His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.
His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.
Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."
"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."
He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."
Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.
Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."
He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”
With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.
Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.
Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”
The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.
Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.
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As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.
"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.
"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.
His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."
Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.
There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.
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Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.
"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.
"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.
Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.
"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."
"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.
Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.
They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.
Author’s Notes:
Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!
Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it
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Angel of Birmingham ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader
Summary: Before he meets Tommy Shelby, Alfie gets the pleasant surprise of encountering the lovely Angel of Britain, and from then on, he swears to always protect her from all the dangers of the world.
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If she were to ask herself who was the first to call her that - That undeserving nickname - She’d have to guess it might have been Arthur. He always had a way with words without realizing, and it all happened when they were children... More or less, considering she is closer to John’s age than his, and she would patch him up after fights and whatever marks of ‘good behaviour’ he got from playing around.
Seeing how great she was at taking care of him and his brothers, Aunt Polly suggested she tries to become a nurse or something. She saw potential in the little girl. Intelligent, charming, beautiful and pretty damn innocent. She shouldn’t stay too close to their dark side, it may taint her, and neither of the Shelbies wanted to see her upset. She was too much of a ray of sunshine and they desperately clinged to her and her kindness.
In the bleak midwinter.
But the girl was also highly ambitious and she didn’t want to settle with being a simple nurse - No, she wanted more. More and more and more. She was smart, she was greedy and she was a conqueror.
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
Until they received a beating sister with death and they suddenly opened their eyes towards the Godly truth in front of them.
She was going to become the only surgeon in Birmingham and she will succeed without a doubt, despite her young age.
The Shelbies already had connections with some important people so it was easier to deal with uncooperative people who dismissed her for being a woman and didn’t even look at her amazing knowledge and skills.
For a while, she had to be away and work in the London’s hospital as she studied medicine, despite her very young age. She hated being alone from her family and her second family, as she always called the Shelbies, but despite her timid personality, she still made some pretty good friends, albeit with the nurses, as most of the girls didn’t have the right connections and the money to bribe their way so high-up the medical field.
For now, that is. Y/N wanted to change the world. She aimed high and jumped higher. With the right money and influence, things will change. She was sure about that.
It was all going splendid for her, until the First World War began and her three Shelby brothers were enrolled - She was desperate to keep them home, but she knew she couldn’t.
So the next best thing was to go with them.
She was a doctor and they needed war doctors to take care of the wounded, so of course, she was accepted without a second thought.
She had to go to Verdun and to Somme, and she had to see so many people being brutally taken away from life - Bombs, gunshots, wails of anguish and despair, fear, cries, agony and shivers.
If Y/N could describe war with a single word, it would be simply ‘Hell’. 
There was no better word to describe it, without a doubt, and an angel in hell always gets her wings burnt horrifically painfully.
She prayed day and night for her three brothers to be alive and well by the end of all this, at least physically, since mentally, she knows neither of them will be the same, that’s for sure.
And this hell went on for four agonizing years that went by, day after day, at an alarmingly lethargic pace, as if time and space were enclosed into a continuous loop of no return, a dark void from which they will never return.
But they did.
And when they did, they were welcomed with hugs and kisses and lots of love from their families...
Yet they reciprocated with a dead look in their eyes.
They died in War, and this was just a second attempt at living, like a dead man roaming the world again.
The worst that happened was Tommy getting shot during his tunneling, but Y/N made sure he would be treated properly, and yet, there was one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how perfect her healing skills were, and that is to erase their mental and emotional pain and all the nightmares and PTSD they had to suffer from.
She tried to stay strong for them, to smile and be radiant as before, to try to take away some of their unseen pain, to talk to them, to sooth them... God knows they needed it. 
She would crawl in Tommy’s bed at forsaken hours and hold him tightly whenever he’d wake up screaming in fear, afraid that the shovels will breach through the walls and he’d get shot again, and she’d talk to him, reassure him and tell him he’s not there anymore and nothing will get to him again, she will protect him from any danger, and her wings were there to shield him.
She would leap out and hug Arthur from behind, dragging him away from murdering or fatally beating more men who looked at him the wrong way, so he wouldn’t lose control of his mind and body again, and she will shoo everyone away while she holds him and lets him cry out his fear and stress and pain.
And John... Poor John... Ever after being home, he was still in a state of shock, and he was so confused, and would look down at his hands, trying to wash them so much that he got burns and irritation, only to get rid of the ocean of blood that he created by killing hundreds of men, and witnessing a thousand more.
And yet...
There was nobody there for her.
Nobody to hold her down whenever she wanted to lash out into hysterics and tear everyone apart limb from limb. There was nobody there to reassure her that she didn’t fail anyone for not managing to save the man split in ten pieces after falling prey to a bomb. That there was nothing wrong with taking lives as long as you protect your own. There was nobody to reassure her during a nightmare or embrace her protectively whenever she’d flinch, jump or panic from the louder noises or frequent gunshots all over Birmingham.
She needed a change. She was going further down and down, spiraling into the horrible abyss that the bottomless pits of anguish and torment she was succumbing to, and she knew that, no matter how much she’d smile and say ‘I’m alright’, she’d only drown deeper into her darkest despair.
And that’s how she chose to cope with all her pain. Work herself into exhaustion, study, practice, work, learn - Do anything but sleep or stay idle - As long as her mind was preoccupied with different things, there was no way she’d recognize her downwards descend into hell.
Thus, with continuous work, gunshot threatenings and more influence and bribes, she managed to become the Head of the Birmingham hospital, as the only capable surgeon in the city.
But now that she achieved this, she needed something new. She couldn’t fall into platitude, or she’d go insane. She constantly needed stimulation, because if she relaxes, even by a little, she will remember she is a human being with human emotions and that’s when shit will hit the fan hard, and she was afraid that was the point of no return.
So she extended her influence in London, went to conferences, met new people and ironically, the big hospital was close to The Angel and Camden Town and she became sort of an administrator - section chief around, so she could organize every patient and treatment the way she wanted. Everyone reported to her.
She was Britain’s Angel.
Things were going very well for her, she got a lot of money, people loved her, she was neutral with all the gangsters, mafia, police and every normal peasant or royalty - Healing did not discriminate against any social criteria made by the higher ups - And she had a very lovely, small house and a beautiful flower garden, a lovely maid who helped her keep things tidy, a decent car ( although she preferred walking ) and a few dogs to keep her company.
Another day, another struggle to keep on going. Y/N got up, drank her morning tea in peace while listening to the gramophone. She combed her long hair, letting it cascade down her back, completely disregarding the fashion of the Roaring ‘20s, and went to look at her wardrobe. She chose a black turtleneck thin blouse with high-waisted black pants, a pair of leather boots, some accessories and an elegant trench coat which she wore over her shoulders. It was Spring, so it wasn’t truly cold enough to dress warmly, but not hot enough to wear a sundress either.
The most peculiar thing happened while walking to the hospital - She heard a groan of pain from a dark alley and going to investigate, she saw a fair haired man whose white shirt was stained with red.
“Is it yours?” the woman asked him as she carefully stepped in front of him, completely disregarding the two dead bodies from the ground.
“Some o’ it. Most o’ it is theirs, poor fellas.” he tilted his head to the side left and right, almost comically.
“Fairs. Let’s get you to the hospital, I’ll treat your wound. Free of charge, of course. Let the state pay for something for once.” she chuckled lightly, extending her hand for him to take - To accept her proposal.
“Who are you, Miss? I don’t recall ever seein’ you ‘round. A new nurse from the hospital?” he asked as he almost skeptically stepped by her side, following her.
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Y/N... I’m sort of the head of the hospital nearby. And, uh... I’m a surgeon.” she grinned at him serenely, almost as if to defy and shock him by his previous assumptions.
“A woman doctor, aye? Now that... That’s top. How’d ya do that? I thought they didn’t accept women at University ‘n such.” despite his words, he seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t mocking her.
“Well... Yes, not wrong. And I want to change that. Hmm, how do I explain this without scaring you away... I’m a pretty smart cookie I guess!” her laugh was crystalline and lovely, and if weren’t for the pain from the bullet he took, he would have laughed as well rather mirthfully.
“That you are, lass, I’m sure.” he grunted as he nodded, a bit robotically.
“Ah, we’ve arrived. Before we go in, are you from a mafia gang or something? Some social... Political... Something? It’s not that I care, but I have to put people in different wings for their own good, you know?” she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers a bit.
“I’m not sure I understand, lass.” he raised his eyebrow, analyzing the soft-spoken woman, trying to understand her intentions, whether they were good or bad.
“Well... My hospital accept everyone, you know? But at the same time I don’t think most people want to be rooming with coppers. Or... I know there are some gang wars around... Italians and Jews I think, or something like that. To put some Sabinis and some from Solomons’ gang in the same room, I not only fear for their lives, but also for the good of the rest of the patients and my hospital, you get me? That’s why I at least have to ask. Who knows, maybe I have some of your peers around for you and you can chat and feel better together.” she shrugged at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared like that by him.
“Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Let’s go to the Jews, right? Y’got some o’ those, don’t ya?” he asked, following her as he watched her smile and greet sweetly every person she was walking past.
“Oh yes, of course. Yesterday came a boy called Oliver... Oh, I mean Ollie. He gets upset when I call him by his full name. And there’s this one called David. They said they work for Alfie Solomons, so I put their occupations as bakers. Would you like me to do the same for you as well?” she asked as she hurried inside the room and asked where he would like to stay, and thus preparing the bed.
“Ye even got flowers ‘round ‘ere. This looks more like a home than a hospital if y’ask me.” he chuckled softly as he let himself fall down on the bed, taking off his shoes.
“Oh, yes! Studies show that if patients feel welcomed and are well taken care of, they have higher chances of recovering at a much faster pace. I wanted to test this theory, so I made a contract with the flower shop down town to always bring me flowers. Isn’t that lovely?” she smiled sweetly at him, which rendered the man speechless and in awe.
“Boss, what happened?!” suddenly, Ollie’s worried voice resounded through the room as he leapt from his bed, by the mysterious man’s side.
“Just some dead fish, don’t you worry, lad.” he downplayed his injury as the woman watched the wholesome exchange between those two.
“Oliver - Uh... Ollie, I mean, forgive me. I have to extract the bullet from Mr. Solomons’ body. I will have to ask you to please not worry, I promise to save him, okay?” why was this woman so sweet with everyone? Was that how a doctor should be? Or was she just some exemplary woman?
“...Alright, miss...” the boy muttered, dejected as he watched the woman leave the room, no doubt to get the right equipment for the extraction.
“Honestly, lad, you worry like some maiden. Let the girl do ‘er job.” the Jewish boss chuckled reassuringly at the tall brunet boy.
“She’s no girl, Mr. Solomons. She’s Britain’s Angel. Haven’t you heard o’ her?” Ollie went to sit on the boss’s bed, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“That’s ‘er? Really?” Alfie’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quite understood now why she earned the reputation.
“Aye! She grew up with the Peaky Blinders and their influence and bribes got her into University, but she’s like super smart! I ‘eard they call her Angel or somethin’, especially after her services in the War. Can you believe that?! A woman voluntarily enrolling into war?! That’s insane, who’d want a free ticket to hell?!” Ollie’s voice became a bit higher as he gossiped with his boss.
“Someone who wants to protect her family.” a feminine chuckle broke the conversation as the two Jews snapped their heads towards the entrance, seeing her casually leaning back on the wall, looking at them with an amused expression, mock-reprimanding. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to gossip?”
“Sorry, lass. This one has quite the chatter mouth to him! ‘e just can’t seem to ever shut it!” his over the top gesticulation, among with Ollie’s shocked expression made the girl hide her mouth to laugh as she shook her head and pushed the tray with the needed instruments to Alfie’s bed.
“True. If he didn’t call you Boss, I wouldn’t have known who you were, Mr. Solomons. Now, I would have to ask you to let me unbutton your shirt so I can begin the procedure. It won’t last long, and with the local anaesthesia, you won’t even feel a thing... For the most part, at least.” she chuckled awkwardly as she sat down on his bed, smiling calmly at him.
“Nah, lass, no fancy ana-thingy, I want none o' that. Ain’t gonna get some drugs to put me down. I’ve been through this before in war, right, and ya didn’t have anaesthesia in war either, so that’s that.” as he said those things, he immediately noticed the smile disappearing from her face as a dark look flashed before her eyes that used to sparkle with fake happiness.
“It’s local anaesthesia, it won’t make you sleep. Besides, I used cocaine in war. It still works. Don’t be like that, Alfie. Please.” she seemed to almost desperately want to use that numbing solution for some reason.
“Why do you insist on going against your patient’s wishes, miss doctor?” he challenged her, narrowing her eyes, as if he was trying to peer into her mind.
“I can’t stand people’s raw cries. You heard Ollie. I’ve been to war, but a part of me never returned home. If I can do something to absolve the pain from someone, I’m gonna do it, whether they like it or not.” her dark voice seemed to make a complete 180 from the sweet one from earlier.
“Do you do the same with coppers too, lass?” his light question, as he unbuttoned his shirt, came as a begrudged agreement to her proposition.
“Nah. I just hit them over the head with a bottle of alcohol. Works every time.” her devious, vague smirk made him wonder whether what she was saying was true or not.
“Now that -- I really wanna see that, right. Would’ya call me next time you gotta do that?” Alfie chuckled as he attentively watched her gently wipe the blood from his skin.
“It’s usually a spontaneous decision, really. I get impulsive too, sometimes, you know? I’m not perfect. But, should the time come, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an audience that would be pleasantly surprised by my act of aggression.” she smiled softly as she carefully administrated the novocain around the area where he got the bullet.
“So where’d ya serve?” he asked, as the girl encouraged him to talk and get his mind away from the procedure.
“Somme and Verdun. I asked to be deployed as close as possible to the Shelbies... I’m sure you got that by what Ollie just told you. Y’know, the tunnels Tommy dug and all that? Wasn’t fun. And you, Alfie? ... Ah, actually, forgive me, I shouldn’t address you so casually without asking for your permission, I got ahead of myself. You can call me by my first name too. I prefer it that way, kinda. It’s more casual and light-hearted.” she chuckled awkwardly - Alfie realized she wasn’t the best at social interactions. He wondered if this was just how she was, or it was a post-war effect.
“No, s’all right, ya can call me Alfie, no problem. I was a Captain in war, right, I was a Captain and I led tons of lads to their death, yeah, but we killed more than we got killed, so that’s that, I guess. Meddled with gas’n’bombs’n shit like that.” Despite trying to keep things light hearted, he noticed the upset look on her face.
“As long as you’re alive, anything is justified.” She muttered, more to herself than to him as she started poking the area under anaesthesia to see if it got numbed down properly.
“Oi, lass, how about I tell you a story, aye? ‘S pretty funny, I reckon.” He suggested, seeing as she smiled softly and nodded at him, putting on her gloves, ready to extract the bullet old-school.
“Sure, Alfie, I’d love that.” She gave him a quick look as he fingers dug inside his wound, making him flinch.
“So, this happened during war, right. My regiment had some nasty Italians around, and they pissed me off so fucking much, yeah. Well, I tell ya, I once carried my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” He used one of his hands to gesticulate wildly, as if to keep her engaged in the story whilst he grunted from the discomfort and pain he felt as she rummaged inside his wound.
“Ohh, the Italians. This is going to be a very good story, I’m sure. What did you do?” her smile widened slightly as she felt the bullet shards and started extracting them one by one, putting them on a napkin until they all formed a complete bullet.
“Listen, Y/N. Listen, right. I pulled his face up against the train and shoved a 6 inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it on with a duct board, aye.” As he told his story, Y/N had to turn around and slouch a bit, unable to contain her laughter.
“Oh my God, Alfie, that was horrible!” but despite the words used, she just laughter harder.
“It was fucking biblical, lass, I tell ya!” his voice went a bit higher, as he started chuckling as well.
“Okay, okay, say that again, but this time slower. I-I want to imagine – To, to get a better image of this in my head. “ no matter how much she tried to hide her laugh, she couldn’t, which only fueled his wish to amuse her.
“So, this fucking margherita bastard came to me and started throwing around those cross fingered hands back and forth like he wanted th’ gouge my eyes out o’ somethin’. Just! Like! this!” Alfie started aggressively mimicking the Italian hand gestures as the girl had to put down the needle and thread from shaking so much.
“G-Go on!” she encouraged him quickly.
“Yeah, so, listen, I grabbed him by the fucking head, yeah, and I saw this bigass nail, like this big, and shoved it up his nose, y’know, like the fuckin’ Egyptians hooked the brain out through the nose, right, with the mummies and shit.” He had no idea why, but he really enjoyed making her laugh like this.
“I think I’m getting a nose bleed just by imagining this!” she covered her face entirely as she swung left and right from laughing so hard.
“He’s leaning back on the train now, yeah, and he’s hazy like he’s fuckin’ high on pepperoni or some shit, and I see this board just layin’ there on th’ ground, innocently, begging to be used somehow. So I pick it up nicely, yeah, I pick it up and SLAM it into his face. Once. Twice. Thrice. More. Dunno how many times, until I can’t see the nail anymore… But I guess, by then, he didn���t really have much of a face anymore, kinda just became a jam pancake or somethin’.” The girl needed a few minutes of laughter to calm down and wipe her eyes from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, I haven’t laughed so hard in my entire life. That was wonderful. I-I have no words. I can’t… I can’t… Okay, I’m good now, I’m good. But don’t say more stories, I won’t be able to sew up your wound if I laugh like that again.” She grinned at him, grabbing the needle and thread.
“Fine, lass, fine, I won’t say more stories today. How about you say one, then?” the Jew leader smirked at her with amusement.
“O-Oh, uhm… I-I’m not exactly the funniest person in the world, you know. Actually, I’m not even sure I know what to say. I’m a horrible conversation maker.” She chuckled nervously, as she continued to make knots and stitch the wound.
“Doesn’t matter, anything works, really! I just wanna hear an angel speak.” Mr. Solomons was truly an amiable one.
“Well, alright then, let me think. So, I think you’ve heard already of the Peaky Blinders and how there are quite a few Shelby siblings, yes? Well, they used to have a baby cousin, before he was taken away by some nasty coppers and put in foster care. I was also pretty young back then, but I remember Arthur used to throw baby Michael out of the window repeatedly for either John or me to catch. Mind you, it wasn’t the ground floor.” She chuckled lightly, remembering the stupid kid things they used to do before the war, when life was so simple.
“Really, now?! Poor lad, must’ve grown up with some serious height fear!” Alfie barked a laugh.
“That’s one thing. John put him in a shoe box and kicked him down Watery Lane. Sometimes when cars were passing by too. It was insane, really, growing up with them. But it was fun. If you ignore the copious amount of times we got in trouble and almost died.”  She mused, finishing the procedure and applying some marigold ointment before bandaging the wound properly.
“Thanks, lass, that was quite the experience. Well, I’ll be off then, I won’t bother you anymore, yeah.” He said, trying to get up, only to quickly get pushed down on the bed.
“No! You need to rest and get better, as well as that, you can’t do effort or brusk movements or you risk breaking the stitches.” She explained as he saw worry in her eyes.
“Let’s compromise, alright lass? I’m these guys’ leader, yeah, I’m the leader, so I can’t stay here, I ‘ave to go home’n all that. But I promise you I’ll take it easy and only do office work, yeah, that good? And to thank ya, I’ll even call you by the bakery, how’s that? Nice and warm fresh cookies? How’s that sound?” he asked, as he saw the girl clasp her hands together to her chest.
“Well… Alright then, I can’t really refuse you. But please do be careful. At least let me walk you home or something, I don’t think anyone will attack you if I’m around.”  She muttered, still worried.
“Oi, lass, I am the gentleman here, right, I am, so I should offer to walk you home, not the other way around, aye. Let me walk ya home and tomorrow I’ll come by with cookies.” as he got up, he was ready to button up his messy shirt, but the girl stopped him.
“Alright, Alfie, you win. Let me find you a new shirt, I’m sure we have some around. Before I leave, I have to check up on one of Sabini’s men. It will be pretty short, but I still have to make sure he’s alive and kicking.” The girl offered him a smile as she rushed out to find him a new blouse.
Much to his surprise, she returned rather quickly, even dressed in her normal attire, as when she first came by, and they were ready to leave that wing. However, as soon as they exited the room, the girl was pinned to the wall by none other than Mr. Sabini himself. Alfie was ready to react and throw him off her, but a stopping signal from her did the trick, albeit, he was still confused.
“Mr. Sabini. How many times must I remind you not to greet me in this inappropriate way? I lost count after twenty.” she smiled sarcastically at him as she roughly pushed him off.
“I simply cannot help myself around una fiore cosi bello! You have to understand me, mio angelo, it is your fault for being so beautiful. And how many times have I told you to call me my by name, bella?” The sleazy Italian smirked perverted at her.
“It is inappropriate to display such behaviour with your patients, as well as that, I do not feel comfortable addressing you in any way but the formal one. I will also have to ask you, again, not to use compliments with me, I will not, under any circumstance, accept your courting proposal. Not to mention, you and your men have your own ward at a completely different floor, so I will have to politely ask you to please stop bothering my other patients who have the same rights of being treated as you do.” Her voice was so cold and venomous, as a sword’s edge cutting deep into flesh. Alfie was shocked to see the angelic woman capable of such a demeanour, considering how sweet and shy she was previously when she was laughing so much that she started tearing up.
“But Y/N, amore mio, mio Tesoro, I can give your lovely hospital monthly charity cheques, to fund it, bring you only the latest technology in pharmaceutical and medical stuff! I can buy you anything you want, only say so, and I will bring it to you! I will –“ he continued boasting about his money until he got quickly cut off by the girl.
“Enough. I don’t need your money, Mr. Sabini, I have my own. Not only that, I will also really want to ask you to stop bothering me already. I have to remind you, you have been harassing me for quite a long time now, and I have all the right in the world to choose the patients I’m admitting, considering this is now MY hospital, and if you don’t stop your desperate cry for attention, I will completely eliminate the Sabini ward and divulge all your secrets to the other mafia gangs. And don’t you dare pull out your stupid gun and threaten me, I’m not afraid of you or of death. I already died in war, now I’m just living a second chance. Good bye, Mr. Sabini.” And with that, Y/N turned on her heels, motioning for Alfie and Ollie to follow her as the click of her shoes echoing through the corridors emanated the angry aura around her.
“So you’ve got the same kind o’ personal vendetta against those stupid Italians too, aye?” Alfie chuckled, hoping to lighten up the mood for her.
“Yep. That story from before – I’d do it with Sabini without thinking twice. Or I’ll have you do it, I don’t think I even have the physical strength to pick up a duct board. I have noodle arms.” She let out an amused breath as the Jew looked at her with a smile.
“Ya bet I’ll help ya.” And thus, they arrived in front of her house, being greeted, as usual, by her barking dogs who jumped on her from happiness.
“So… Tomorrow, yes? When should I be expecting you?” she asked, trying to pacify her excited puppies.
“Maybe ‘round noon?” and thus, the agreement stood and the girl waved at him sweetly as she went inside the house, followed by her furry babies. “Y’know what, Ollie? This one is a woman that comes once every thousand years. I dunno how Thomas Shelby could let go of her, but he can’t be as smart as he thinks he is.” Alfie chuckled, nodding to his right hand man to begin walking.
The next day, as expected, Y/N woke up early to make sure nothing is out of place everywhere in the house. Maybe it was her weirdly acting up over-perfectionism, but she couldn’t stand still if something wasn’t where it should have been.
After all, she hasn’t had visitors in… Well, never. It was always her who would visit the Shelby family, but other than that, she would meet up with friends in pubs and clubs, not at home.
Before she knew it, noon arrived and the sound of barking announced Alfie’s arrival. As she opened the house’s door, she noticed he was on the ground, getting loved by all the dogs.
Shocker.
“They say dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one. You passed their test, well done.” She gave him an amused side-smile, leaning on the door frame.
“Anyone who has so many dogs is trustworthy in my books.” He cackled as he got up, walking towards the girl, holding the basket up so the four-legged beasts won’t steal it away.
“I taught them horribly bad. They eat at the table with me, I cook for them more than I cook for myself. And now, look at them, those rascals, they will do anything for food as if they’re famished! Spoiled brats, I’m telling you!” she smiled as she removed the flower vase from the table and poured some tea, aromatic and very nicely smelling.
He admired the tea pot and the matching cups – They were a soft, light blue with painted pink flowers. – Very cute, he thought, and very fitting to her own sweetness. He’s seen so many women affected by the bitterness and anger of having to be unheard, submissive and mistreated, in this ugly, monochrome, wet Britain, so meeting Y/N was like a breath of fresh air, completely different, not afraid of being as sweet and kind as she wants, without implicating herself in any trouble or business and just doing her own stuff.
“Tea, lass? I haven’t had tea in ages, yeah.” He chuckled as he carefully put the plate of still steaming cookies along with some challah bread.
“…Oh. I forgot most people prefer alcohol. Oh My God, I’m so sorry, I don’t have any kind of alcohol in the house-“ she freaked out a bit, only to be stopped by Alfie’s chuckle.
“I’m a tea guy too, lass, don’t worry so much over silly things like that, right? Tea’s fine too. What’s it got?” he asked, easing her worries quickly.
“Vanilla, cinnamon, cherries and a bit too much honey. I like sweet things.” She smiled at him as she raised the tea cup and clinked it to his. “Cheers.”
“Sweet things like you, little lady, love things just as sweet, yeah? Cheers! It’s quite nice, aye, not bad, not bad at all, I think I’ll want more.” He blinked in surprise as he saw the girl immediately get up and pour more tea into his cup.
“Woaw, Alfie, you’ve made these? I’ve never eaten chocolate chip cookies before! They’re amazing! And this bread… It’s so soft and it tastes like honey! If you ever wanted to stop your underground business, you could definitely make a fortune opening up your own bakery! Imagine this… Alfie Solomons, the sweetest man in all Britain, loved by every citizen, earns a Royal Warrant from the Queen for baking the best cookies in the world!” Y/N praised the man as she ate what seemed to be the 4th or 5th cookie by now.
“Bah! Who cares ‘bout that old hag with a crown on her head? If the right person likes it, it’s all that matter, right, nothing else matters to me, and you already like my baking, so that’s that, yeah, that’s just that!” Alfie laughed, making the girl in front of him make a cute kitty smile and look down, her cheeks becoming just a tiny bit rosy.
“Alfie, now you’re just being too nice with me. You don’t have to do that just because I treated you.” She chuckled softly, surprising the man.
“You think I’m being nice to you because o’ that? That’s silly of you, lass, yeah, very silly, that’s not the case in the least, that’s just who I am!” he protested vehemently, his golden chain bracelet clinking softly with each movement.
“So you just like me? Just like that?” her eyes widened in shock.
“Why’re you looking so surprised, lass?” his voice became gradually much calmer and sweeter, seeing the genuine emotions from her.
“Oh, I just… I haven’t heard that in quite a while, I guess that’s why. Apart from the doctor work I do, and all the people thanking me for saving them, I don’t have much social interaction, so someone saying they like me for  my personality, as Y/N, not Britain’s Angel who saved them, is… You know… Unexpected.” She admitted, smiling shyly at him.
“How would you like to hear another story?” it’s true that he wanted to see her so bashful in front of him, but he also loved hearing her laugh, so why not give it a try with one more of his famous stories.
“Oh, I’d love that! You have the best stories, Alfie!” she immediately cheered up, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands oh so cutely.
“Now, now, don’t flatter me, lass, it’ll go to my head, yeah, I’ll get used to you cute words.”  He leaned back on the chair, getting a better look at her.
“That just means I’ll have to say them more often.” Oh, how cheeky, Alfie thought as he grinned at her.
“Right, perfect plan! So, there you go! Tommy Shelby came by recently – Just a few days ago, right – And he, he started being a cheeky bastard with me, so I wanted to teach him a lesson. Got the gun out, cocked it in his face. I said – Look, let’s say I just shot you already, right, in the fucking face, and the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie made a finger gun with one of his hands, pointing it at the smiling girl, and then pointed behind her, where a pretty landscape painting was hanging.
“Oh, Tommy in London? I’m surprised he didn’t tell me anything about coming here, or at least visiting me. What a shame. I’m not surprised by his behaviour though, he’s become a bit of a jerk after the war.” She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at him to continue.
“Right, it’s a shame, it really is, because that cabinet is fucked. I gotta get rid of it. So, what I do is this, I said. It’s fucking simple, mate.” And thus, he intertwined his fingers together on the table, playfully putting on the intimidating look of his.
“You burn it to splinters?” she tilted her head serenely like a cute puppy.
“Nah, even better. I cut that cabinet in half, don’t I? I do, I’ll just cut the cabinet, I cut… I cut the cabinet literally in half, mate, I said, and threw him a rag to wipe that bleeding nose of his. He was looking at me like a fucking dead body, lass, beaten up and bruised, by Sabini’s men, but still got the cheek to play coy with me on my turf!” Alfie told her the truth, knowing she’d want to know about her old friend.
“Tommy got beaten up by Sabini? What in the world did he do…? That boy never knows when to stop, does he. Anyway, so you cut the cabinet in half. Now what do you do? Throw it in the ocean?” she asked, quickly forgetting about the Shelby boy.
“No! I take half of that cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and take the other half of the cabinet, and all its pieces, and I put that into another barrel.” His hands shifted between left and right to show off imaginary barrels.
“And you fill them up with gun powder and make them explode in your enemy’s factory?” she grinned excitedly at him.
“Gosh, lass, no! But now I hate that you have more imagination than me! But listen – This barrel – I send this barrel off to… Mandalay.” He flapped his left hand around dismissively, making the girl bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “And the other barrel off to somewhere like… I don’t know…” and he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, unblinking and trying to come up with a funny city name, as she smiled with expectation for the punchline. “Timbuktu! You ever been?” the line was successfully delivered as the girl had to hang her head down and hide her face in her hands as she burst into laughter.
“Mandalay? Timbuktu? Where the hell are those?” she asked, unable to control herself.
“Fuck if I know, lass, but that’s the best of it! And y’know what? Know what, lass? I saw Tommy Shelby, right? Yeah, I saw him. All gloomy and dark and stuff. But I always thought he’d have a great, big, fucking gold ring in his nose!” Alfie joked around, and the girl was almost afraid she’d faint from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, you are the funniest man alive. So what did he say, how did he react to that?!” she urged him to continue.
“Nothin’! Nothin’ at all! He was silent as a fucking lake, lass! That Shelby boy has got no funny bone in his fucking body! Can’t even make a joke with him! Shoulda learnt from you, your company is a delight.” He saw Y/N quickly nod in agreement.
“Yeah, that’s right, Tommy has no sense of humour at all! He hasn’t smiled or laughed since the war. He’s changed completely. I know he’s been through a lot, you know? Everyone has. He still has that kind heart, and all he does, he does for his family… But it wouldn’t hurt him to be more genuine with them, or accept the fact that he’s not the only hurt one who can’t get over the war. I mean – I mean John, he’s my age! Got married, has like 4 kids already, married again and he’s still a brat as always! And you, Alfie! You said you were a captain, but you are the greatest person I ever met! He has no excuse for being a jerk. If he had a nose ring, like the bulls have, you could’ve just gotten a hook and tied him to a car and had him paraded around the streets of Camden Town!” she giggled in amusement, roasting her old friend shamelessly.
“Y’know lass, I think you’re as much of a fairy as I am, aye. You look all angelic and pure, but you have a wicked sense of humour!” the girl couldn’t help but let out a mock gasp of hurt and offense.
“Me? Wicked? Never! My, Alfie, you hurt me - How ever in this world could you possibly call me the Devil, when I’m known as Birmingham’s Angel? Recently, Britain’s Angel?” she laughed, almost as though she was making fun of her own nicknames.
“I think I’d much rather hear you being Alfie’s Angel.” Y/N’s smile froze, and her cheeks warmed up instantly, her gaze looking down at the tiny crumbles left behind from the tasty cookies. “Wha’chu say, lass?”
“I... Think I would like that very much, Alfie.” she could barely contain her timid smile.
“Wonderful news, lass!” Alfie merrily got to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, pretty Angel. Don’t forget to serve your little companions their dinner at the table, a’ight?” he bent down slightly to plant a small kiss on her cheek, a little ticklish from his bear, before nodding his head at her, a cheeky smile on his face, and he left, not without all the dogs desperately seeking affection from him.
“Alfie’s Angel, huh? Doesn’t sound half-bad.” Y/N giggles softly to herself, only to hear her maid coming out of nowhere and cheering for her for landing such a good man, though not without warning her not to get into trouble with the very many gangs and their wars. She was a sweet girl, Y/N thought - Perhaps Ollie would like to date a lovely lady like herself.
Many days and weeks, and even months passed, and Alfie visited Miss Y/N daily, never skipping a single day, or missing to bring her the prettiest flowers, and the freshest cookies and bread. He was going to spoil her rotten, that one, and he loved every bit of it, especially the shy look she always had on her face, and the hesitation of accepting so many gifts - He just loved pampering her, what could he do? It was in his nature after all.
And Y/N absolutely loved whenever he’d come over, and each day, with a new story to tell, and new jokes and rumours and gossips - He was an absolute delight, and her dogs loved him perhaps a little bit more than they loved her, at this point. It was no wonder, after all - Alfie started baking food for them! And Y/N thought she spoiled them! 
For once, Y/N stopped feeling the terrifyingly heavy pressure of anguish and torment weighting down on her very soul and being. She didn’t feel the need to work her mind into exhaustion, not tire out her body to the point of fainting asleep. She didn’t need to do any of those anymore, to feel alive and human. She only needed to look at those beautiful eyes of his, and those kissable lips, always forming a mirthful smile; to feel vitality returning into her body, and any sense of fear and anxiety escaping her very being. She remembered what it was like to have a sense of care and possessiveness over her own life, and finally, after so long, she wanted to be free - As free as it could get, unbound by any rule and regulation - To just have fun and thrive in the bliss of romance and happiness.
Once Alfie heard that, he kissed her sweet lips for the first time, admitting to wanting to retreat from the mafia life, and retreat to a calmer area where no one would be searching for him. Margate. A small cottage, cozy and warm, by the sea, where nobody would care to scold them for shooting those noisy seagulls, and Cyril and her dogs could run around aimlessly and run day in and day out, while they spend their time reading and baking and all the cutesy things that couples in love are supposed to do.
Before that, however, a few more things had to happen - Retirement wasn’t an easy process, after all, not in this business, and shrouding yourself into the veil of the unknown was even more difficult a task. People wanted their vengeance, after all, and they’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Nothing, including threatening the beautiful, benevolent Angel who was supposed to have neutral immunity from all kinds of parties. That is what she thought. That is what everyone thought. It was the catalyst of Alfie’s decision to speed up his retirement process and get this done and dealt with already. He never felt as angry as he was now.
It came during a time when Tommy rang Y/N asking for a favour, though rather uncomfortable. Alfie didn’t agree with this at all, he warned Y/N it would be dangerous - Deals with Italians were unpredictable, those bastards, and Sabini was a lecherous fuck who wanted to steal her away - But how could Y/N deny doing a favour to the man who helped her reach such heights though his influence? The man she went to war to protect? The man she took a bullet for? Her brother from another mother?
“Y/N, lass, you’re going to get fried to death if you approach that pasta fucker. I can’t just let you go.” Alfie grumbled worriedly. “And it ain’t just Sabini I’m worried about, love, it’s Changretta too. ‘course, all the fucking pizza fuckers came ‘round to screw things over, but Sabini keeps saying he ain’t working with that other fucker.” he paced nervously around the room, to and fro, fro and to. “Y/N, listen - Listen, a’ight? LIsten. It’s not Sabini I’m worried about, y’know? We’ve been at each other’s throats since school, it ain’t flash news, right -- I can deal with ‘im somehow -- But the other one? I know shit about ‘im. Came over from fucking America, and now he thinks he owns the whole fucking world, that one. And y’know what, hun? ‘e can fuckin’ have it, for all I care. Let Tommy Shelby fight with him. But you --- I’ll be fucking damned before I let him take you away from me.”
“Alfie, sweety, look at me.” Y/N got up from the bed, and approached the frantic man. She cupped his face and brought him into a tender kiss. “There’s no force on earth that can keep me apart from you. Besides! The hospital, remember? Even if Changretta comes over, I will just tell him of the deals, and the treatment and... He won’t hurt me.” without even realising, Alfie’s arms were wrapped around her smaller form, holding her close to his chest, pouting like a clingy child. “Alfie~! Come on, don’t tickle me with your beard! I promise I’ll give you attention all the after this is over, okay? But family is family, and I promised to help out. It won’t take long. And... It’s supposed to be some private party, right? A party with lots of people. He can’t just threaten me in front of everyone, right?”
“I don’t like risky things like this, Y/N. Can’t blame a man in love for worryin’.” He muttered against the skin of her neck. “But better tell Tommy I’m not gonna let him send you do his errands for him anymore, a’ight?”
“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.” she couldn’t help her sweet, uncontrollable giggling, all because of him playfully running that trickly yet well kept beard of his over her soft skin.
Just as promised, Y/N dressed in a very pretty dress, making her look like an innocent, sweet flower blooming in Spring, overshadowing all around her with her beauty, thought there was no Tommy Shelby there waiting to escort her at the party. She didn’t think much about it though - She hadn’t a watch at her, so she couldn’t tell whether she was fashionably late or not, and he just went on ahead to do some of his work dealings with his gang friends. It was none of Y/N’s business, she was just supposed to be there as a peacemaker, a mediator, considering she was neutral with all, thanks to her position as the head of the hospital.
She grabbed herself a glass of champagne from a waiter and waited by the sidelines, watching the party unfold, with gorgeous dancers and the orchestra playing songs of all kinds. When a slowed song began, she awkwardly played the wallflower, not wanting to gain any attention to her, but of course, her not so favourite Italian came by, gallantly asking for a dance. Of course, she couldn’t refuse, more or less because she was a diplomat, and despite all the harassment from the past, all of them taking care in the hospital, at a party, it was all fine. Still, she hoped Alfie could have been there - It would have been more bearable.
“A gorgeous lady like yourself shouldn’t be all alone at a party.” Sabini said, making Y/N give a polite smile.
“Well, I was sure Tommy would be busy talking business with you, Mr. Sabini. I’m surprised you’re here, with me.” the man rose a quizzical eyebrow, hearing that.
“My dear, Thomas Shelby never once spoke to me today. In fact, I was not aware he was here at all.” Y/N’s body froze, and their dance stopped.
“What do you mean?” she asked in a whispery voice. “Tommy said he needed me here, as a mediator between the Peaky Blinders and the other gangs of London. If he’s not here -- Why would he ask me to be here?”
“Ah, bella, bella, bella, so your naivite and innocence only makes you more endearing.” he gave a smug smirk. “Luca Changretta asked your dear Tommy, to have a... Pleasant conversation. Negating deals. Business talks... Men talks. Signorina Y/N, he sent you over to receive a message, as he feared for his life, but counted on our long lasting friendship.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she felt terrified for her life.
“I... Don’t want to get involved in your business matters. I don’t do business. I just heal people, that’s all. I wanted to do Tommy a favour, as he is my brother, but I want to have a peaceful life, away from all the gang wars. Please, let me go home, Mr. Sabini. If you want me to send Tommy a message, I will, but I won’t get involved any further than this.” the Italian nodded his head, an almost nasty smirk on his face. 
“By all means, no one wants to hurt you, Signorina. It would be terribly rude of us to kill the messenger... Though Signor Changretta’s father was ruthlessly killed, in front of his wife, for no reason, by your brothers. But us, bella - We, Italians, care for our family above all, and Signor Changretta admires your devotion to your own. He is going to love meeting you.” Y/N slowly removed her hands from the man’s shoulders and offered a small smile, trying to keep her composure. But she was terrified to the core, almost as much as she had been during the war. Not only did Tommy betray her, but he threw her in a pit of vipers... Like a weaponless gladiator, forced to fight a hundred starving lions in the Colosseum. She was a healer, not a fighter! Damn it, Tommy!
“It was a lovely evening, Mr. Sabini. I will be taking my leave now.” with a certain elegant swiftness, Y/N was able to slip past Sabini and hide her presence in the sea of people, trying to make her way to the exit of the grand mansion, only to bump into another man, much taller than Sabini was, and he was towering over her, a passive smile on his face. It was much clear now, the whole place was filled only with Italians. She was trapped.
“Signora, what kind of man was vile enough to make a woman cry? Tell me, please, I will not have such disrespect in my family.” his accent was heavy, and his aura was dangerous, with a mysterious darkness. The stranger rose a hand to cup her cheek and rose her face to wipe the wet, gleaming under eye of the woman.
“Uh... Forgive me, Mr... I didn’t mean to bump into you and disturb you. I... I am not a very sociable person, I don’t do well with crowds. I... Was hoping to return home.” she offered an uncomfortable smile. This man was trouble.
“Don’t worry, bella, I will make sure to discipline my men better.” he nodded, chewing on what looked like a toothpick... Or a match? Was that a match? “You will have to forgive them. Anyway, may I escort you outside and call for a car for you?” something made her feel as though she hadn’t any choice in the matter.
“Y-Yes, please.” she nodded meekly, her voice barely audible from all the noise of the party.
With his arm around her waist, the stranger gentlemanly escorted the lady outside of the mansion, and outside, into the darkness barely illuminated by the lights from inside the house. Were it not for the loud music and all the chattering from the mansion, the graveyard silence would have been entirely ominous, save for the soft cricket and toad melody.
They were all alone.
“Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Changretta?” Y/N asked, frightened out of her mind.
“Kill you? Oh, Signora, no, no, why in the world would I wish to harm an beautiful lady like yourself?” he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Sabini tells me they call you the Angel of Britain. May I call you... Angelica?” Y/N didn’t answer. “Have I frightened you so, bella? Mi dispiace, it wasn’t my intention.” though, based on the sarcastic slur of his words, he was having his fun tormenting her.
“Mr. Sabini said you wished me to deliver Tommy a message. What is it?” the woman asked, holding her hands together tightly.
“Ah, yes, of course. Very brave of Mr. Shelby, sending his dear sister to do his dirty work. How shameful. You see, bella, we never put our ladies in danger. Sabini especially says he’s taken a liking to you for quite some good years. I can see perfectly well why. I’ve never seen a woman beautiful and intelligent such as yourself.” Luca’s hand found itself caressing her face, his long fingers reaching up to her hair, strong her long velvety hair. “I love how you defy this decade’s fashion, though you manage to look more elegant than most.” he kept complimenting her.
“Mr. Changretta, please... I am already dating a man, and we are soon going to move in together. I would appreciate it dearly if you would not continue your courting, though I am very flattered that one like yourself would find me attractive.” the man looked up at the sky, a dry smile on his face, watching how the lady tried to step backwards every time he inched forwards, only to end up with her back flush against a tree.
“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that. You are far too terrified from the simplest gesture. Admit it, Signora, you’ve never been with a man before, have you?” his smirk only widened watching her face burning with a sweet blush. “You needn’t say any word, your body betrays you.” he chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to her. “I hate making ladies cry. My mamma taught me better than this. She taught me to respect and cherish women, for they are a treasure - And I agree. I will not hard you, Signora Y/N. But perhaps you need to be reminded of the importance you play in this gang war... And maybe even remind your dear brother, as he seems to have forgotten about you and how much you worth. Would he react at all, if I were to laugh in his face and tell him I’ve claimed you? Will he even get angry, if I tell him I killed you? Thomas Shelby finds himself to be rather the undefeatable businessman and politician, but from our latest interaction, I say, he’s a man as much as any other, and he has easily exploitable weaknesses. It is really too bad you had to get caught in the middle of all this. I bear you no ill will, Angelica.” he leaned his face closer and closer to her own, to the point of feeling his warm breath on her skin - She tried to move away, though he fixed her head, cupping her cheeks forcefully. He truly just wanted to steal a little kiss, nothing more! He wanted to get a taste of her pink, plump lips that looked like the softest rose petals, bathing in shiny morning dew.
Instead, the loud, resounding sound of a gunshot made the man close his eyes in anger, whilst Y/N squeaked in fear, trying to fall to the ground and defend herself; an awful habit she couldn’t break even after the war was over. Luca used the woman as a shield, one hand buried in her hair, the other, holding a pistol to her temple.
From the paved street the soft sound of a cane was heard, as Alfie Solomons appeared, looking all dressed for a party. He looked alone. Was it him who shot, or was it another? Surely, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come by all alone, even if it was to rescue Y/N - And if he did, it only meant her worth was a hundred times more than he expected. Was he the man she mentioned just previously?
“Ah, Mr. Solomons, what an unexpected surprise. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Luca Changretta.” the Italian smirked, chewing on that match, approaching his face to touch his cheek to Y/N’s. 
“Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are a bit of a failure, aren’t you? You come all the way over here, to this country, yeah, in order to kill Tommy Shelby - But, I mean, well - He’s not dead, is he?” Alfie smiled fakely at the Italian, forcing himself not to look at the whimpering look of his beloved.
“He would have been, were he not saved by Angelica over here. But he cowarded out, didn’t he? Can’t even have a conversation with someone who hides behind his sister’s skirts.” Changretta sneered mockingly.
“That’s it. I’ll tell you what, right? I didn’t want to come ‘ere, in your home, without a gift, yeah? It woulda been rude - And Jews are known for their hospitality, of course. Here - It’s free. A souvenir.” Alfie rose a single bottle of his rum, showing he was unarmed. “Now, why don’t you let go of that lady over there, and we say our goodbyes?”
Changretta smirked darkly at him. “Signora, why don’t you take the bottle and have a sip? Rum is sweet, for women. Men prefer dry, strong gin.” with trembling hands, Y/N extended her arms to get the bottle from Alfie. It was almost excruciatingly painful, being so close to his protective arms, yet so very far away... “Go on, Angelica, take a sip.” Alfie frowned, watching Y/N’s face contort slightly - She didn’t drink alcohol, she hated it. Even if rum was sweeter than most alcohols, it still wasn’t anywhere close to her sweet teas with too much honey in them.
“This clown wants me to run his shit rum into New York.” Changretta let out a dry laugh, insulting the Jew in Italian.
“Damn fucking straight, mate, otherwise you wouldn’t still be thieving my oxygen and patience, would you? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teamsters.” Alfie continued with the straight business deal.
“Didn’t you just hear me? People want gin these days.” Luca repeated.
“I heard you wanted to come over with a proposition for me. I hate waiting, yeah - So, that’s why I came over, to quicken things up a bit, before they get stale, right. I already know what you want. I just want to hear you say it out loud so I can check how ridiculous it is.” Alfie inched closer to the two, not once breaking his overly dramatic mannerism.
“Ah, bella, what will I do, I am losing my patience with him.” Luca shook his head in disdain, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Based on the twitch of his enemy’s eye, he had hurried over with a half-baked plan. No doubt, Thomas Shelby must have gone over to him to search for an ally in him. To come in the enemy’s den for a woman - Alfie Solomons was a suicidal maniac. “There is gonna be a little fight, a boxing match, between your boy and Tommy Shelby’s boy, and the whole Shelby family is gonna be there.” Alfie hummed, already knowing all this. “And you, Mr. Solomons, you too will be there.” Luca started stroking a lock of Y/N’s hair, intentionally taunting the Jew. “You know, they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny because I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah. You want the girl back, that’s why you’re here. Maybe for the barrels too. But the girl... Yes, I get why you’d want her back. Can’t miss out on claiming a treasure like her.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering and going down, towards her ear, whispering a small threat and softly slipping the sleeve of her dress a little down her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, revealing flawless skin, before leaning down her neck, and to her bare shoulder. Y/N tried to struggle away from him, whimpering from the uncomfortable fear she was feeling, and how violated she felt by the Italian, but the tight grip on her hair only brought out a whimper of pain and disgust from her.
If someone could look deep into Alfie’s eyes, they could see a wrathful fire raging inside his soul. He wanted to make pasta sauce from that fucker for daring touch his sweet lady and making tormenting her so. He had to play his cards well, feign ignorance and uncare, otherwise, he was afraid that wop will be taking Y/N as a bargaining chip and blackmail him, to the point that not even Tommy Shelby playing God would be able to save the sweet lady. “I want some cash too. Don’t worry, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” from the pocket of his coat, he took out a neatly folded paper. “A list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right?” from his other pocket, he took out his glasses, putting them on as he read the terms and conditions to their deal. “Now, a normal dispatch, well, it’s, you know, 500 pounds cost, but you’re going to have to have to add another 100 to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people... And... I need you to put another tonne on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he will come after me.” Alfie kept reading, frowning every so often at the inconveniences he was listing. “And then you will need to put another 100 on top of that, because, well, you’re a fucking wop, mate, hmmm?” Changretta remained speechless, looking at the mess of a Jew who found himself hilarious, messing with him. “And then... We have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pounds, because, like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine.” though he wished to wring his neck for throwing Y/N in danger like that. “And... Another 500 pounds for threatening my wife. And 500 more pounds for making her cry.” Alfie folded back the paper, handing it to his enemy. “Total is down there, in black and white. All right? Crack on.”
“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie frowned at the Italian.
“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish, yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.” he warned the unbothered Italian don.
“You see, these days, back in the old country, a lot of the, uh.... You know, the Jewish people, they, uh... They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” Changretta chuckled menacingly. 
“All right, well, you’ll have to add another ton onto your bill - For being a cunt, mate.” Alfie refuted with a chilling calm. “All right?”
Luca looked away briefly. “You will bring my men to Birmingham?”
Alfie nodded his head, hoping his crazy humour was acting as reassurance for his lady. “You will circumcise them?” Luca was mute. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?”
“If they’re going to have their pretty doctor check, surely, she wouldn’t quite know the difference, would she?” the Italian jabbed at the Jew, who was imagining different ways of torturing this fucker.
“Don’t bother your little wop brain over what my wife does. She won’t be there.”  Luca smirked, knowing very well his uppercut landed perfectly.
“Okay. Any other requests?” he asked, laxing his grip on her hair. “Two hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal.” Alfie frowned, looking at him with disinterest. “What’s the matter? I said we have a deal.”
“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?” Alfie stared him down. Luca affirmed that statement. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” then, for the first time, Y/N heard the man speak in his own, native language. “You plan to kill us all.” though she didn’t quite understand what he said, the look in his eyes was enough to give her a good guess. Still, with the deal in place, Luca Changretta smirked in triumph, and with one last gesture of condescence, he forced Y/N into a deep kiss, before pushing her towards the Jew. “Sogni d’oro, mia bella Angelica.”
Alfie instinctively lunged forward, catching and gathering his lady into a tight embrace and watching carefully as Changretta stepped inside the mansion. He could feel Y/N’s soft trembles of her small body as she cried in soft whimpers - She was trying desperately to stay composed, but after everything she’d gone through, he couldn’t blame her. That margherita fucker must have creeped her to hell and back. “It’s okay, darling, cry as much as you need. I’m here, love, I’m here, okay? Alfie’s here, and I’m not gonna let go of you again.” she felt so warm, so safe in his large arms. “Let’s go home, yeah? No more of this gang shit. I’ve done over my plans, and we’re leaving faster. I’m not gonna let any of this fuckers even look at you ever again.” he massaged and stroked the back of her head, where that jerk hurt her, and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks and even her nose, before guiding her to the car, with Ollie driving them to the comfort of her own home, with her many dogs, and a shit ton of guards all around.
Y/N couldn’t say anything, and when they got home, Alfie had her maid draw her a warm bath so she could relax. He made sure to put a nice vinyl on the gramophone, and had Ollie return to their house to bring the emergency cookies for comfort, whilst he continued to internally curse Thomas.
He wasn’t sure how long she calmed down in the bath, with her maid comforting and chatting with her to get her mind off of the anguish she was put through, but when she returned, she was wearing one of her beautiful silk nightgown that barely went down to her knees, and she let herself plop on the bed, cuddling into his arms like a kitten seeking warmth. “How did you know?” her soft voice asked as he pulled them to lay down, stroking her hair and her face dearly, occasionally planting kisses and calling her sweet things. When Ollie finally came back with the cookies, her maid had brewed the sweetest tea in existence for them.
“Well, I always did pride myself with having good intuition, you know, but when Tommy came by my bakery, I realised - Shit, my sweet lady’s in trouble.” Alfie spoke, watching her cringe softly at the mention of the Shelby. “Asked him what the hell he was doin’ over at my place, instead of being there with you, and he said - Who would hurt you? Sabini wouldn’t, surely. There’s no person with more immunity than you, right?” he mimicked the man. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind, hun, hearing that. I was this close to beating him to death, yeah, nobody dares touch my sweet girl after all. He said some things about those fucking greasy wops, and it got me thinking - I already knew things were going to shit, and very fast, right, and I knew I had to make our exit as swift as possible - But when I heard you were all alone, with a bunch of sleazy fucks, my mind went crazy.” he gesticulated dramatically, before pinching her cheek playfully. “I promised Tommy Shelby a beating at some point, and I managed to land one good punch on him before coming to my darling’s rescue. Glad I got there just in time, but fuck, I’m so pissed - So fucking pissed you had to go through all that. I should’ve never let you go. Should’ve trusted my gut.” he grumbled, clearly angry at himself.
“Alfie.” she had an upset, pouting look on her face. “I’m sorry I let him kiss me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.” she hung her head in shame. “If you hadn’t come when you did... I fear what he’d have done.”
“Y/N, lass, what the hell are you apologising for?!” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to raise her face gently to look at him. “As if a weaponless woman could fight a grown ass man with a gun. If anything, I should be the one to apologise for not being fucking able to protect you as a man should. I thought playing the wife card, and the extra billing, would get that cheapskate fucker let go of you already. Fucking cunt. He’ll pay, I’ll make sure of that.”
But Y/N frantically shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Alfie. I don’t want revenge, and I don’t care what happens to any gangs, okay? I’m sorry, Alfie, I’m sorry I- I’m selfish, okay? I don’t want to do this anymore. I just - I can’t. I really can’t, you know? Always in the middle of danger, always in the middle of war -- I just want to go live out a happy, peaceful life, with you, and our dogs, and a shit load of seagulls to shoot whenever they wake us up with that annoying screech of theirs. And then -- Then, I wanna go have a good travel, maybe. Let’s -- Let’s go to the mountains, I heard it’s fun hiking. The forests are very pretty too. We can hide away from everyone, we’ve got enough money, don’t we - And if you wanted to, I told you, you can open up your own real bakery, and live perfectly comfortable with those earnings. Anything - Anything, just to get the hell out of this God-forsaken, war-riddled, decrepit, barren city, and away from this awful, exploiting people who care for nothing but their damn fucking business.” the way her eyes were gleaming with both hope and desperation shattered Alfie’s heart. “Can we do that, Alfie? Please, can we do that? Just the two of us -- Maybe Ollie and Annie too, if they wanna - And our dogs too - Just us, a nice, big family.”
Alfie’s very soul felt honeyed from her words of love, and her wish of staying together with him - And it was tempting too, taking Ollie and her maid with them, he had to admit. They would finally be living the god damn peaceful fucking life that they deserved. He had been dreaming during the day, and during the night, of a life spent together with her, all away from this shit city, away from the shit gang wars and what nots. He was exhausted, he wanted to let his guard down for once, and he knew he could do that with Y/N. He wanted to provide her a beautiful, comfortable life, a peaceful once - She’s never been to the beach, and he really wanted to show Margate to her. Just them, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore, walking barefoot into the wet sand and playing in the water.
Perhaps it was a little close for comfort to both France and London too - Maybe some day, they could go further north, further away from the capital. Perhaps they can even change their names, take on new identities, retire completely. Sure, he’ll still be taking care of his Jewish community, but he would stop the mafia dealings - Let the younger generations get themselves in trouble a hundred thousand times per minute, he was completely done for.
“Yeah, my little cookie, we can do that, and we’ll fucking do it, and very soon, yeah? Very soon, I promise you that. I’ll keep you safe, and comfortable, and happy. First, in Margate, and if we get bored, wherever the hell we want, a’ight? With Ollie and Annie if they wanna join, and with our spoiled dogs, ‘course.” he leaned in, capturing her lips into a sweet kiss.
“Alfie?” she called his name, her cheeks flustering lightly, unable to meet his eyes, despite the beautiful smile on her face.
“Yeah, meyn ketsele?” Y/N always blushed so hard whenever he’d call her his little kitten.
“Is the... Erhm... Wifey spot still open? I’d like to apply.” Alfie couldn’t help but start laughing mirthfully at her bashfulness, only to pull her into a loving embrace, peppering her face with kisses all over.
“Ikh hob dikh shtark lib - I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.” Y/N felt faint from all the suffocating love and affection she was receiving all at once, but she couldn’t help but melt to the sound of Alfie speaking in his native language, saying that he loves her so much, that she was the love of his life and what more. It was almost funny, how quickly he became smitten beyond repair for her, but he simply couldn’t help it. Women like her only came about once every thousands of years, and he was just so happy, just by seeing that shy smile of hers, or waking up to her in his arms. How could he ever let her go? 
Y/N wasn’t Birmingham’s Angel anymore, and like hell was she Britain’s Angel. She wasn’t an angel, she was a little wicked fairy, the sweetest lady there was, and any other overdosing sugary sweet and entirely embarrassing term of love that Alfie could ultimately generate from the top of his head, just to see her adorable blush, but by hell, he was feeling trapped and addicted to her magic, and he was never going to let go of his darling honey bunch lady.
And Alfie was going to make her the happiest woman alive, and their wedding was gonna be fucking biblical.
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When You Fall Asleep On Their Shoulder
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Thomas:
Finds it ridiculous that you even fell asleep on him but doesn't move while you continue to rest against him and if asked he'll simply say he was already busy and that it wasn't for you.
He's noticed that you start out with a little lean, your head resting on his shoulder. Soon that turns into a full-on nap. He finds it endearing and makes him feel like an old softy. He'll give you a little kiss on the forehead. He'll sit around thinking to himself, "Maybe there's more to life than violence" and that he could get used to this.
Doesn't let anyone wake you up and quietly threatens anyone who dares to make too much noise when your resting on him, will act like nothing happened when you wake up nor does he say anything as he sits down next to you the next time he sees how tired you are.
Arthur:
If you fell asleep on his shoulder, he would feel touched and humbled. It would remind him of the great trust you have in him, and he would be incredibly moved by the vulnerability and intimacy of the moment and would be careful not to disturb your sleep.
He feels like he can't describe it in detail because it's such an amazing feeling. If you're relaxed enough to fall asleep on his shoulder, that says that you feel safe with him and that's the best feeling in the world.
Will try to keep noises to a low volume but simply can't help it especially when someone starts messing with him which will cause him to get loud but will try to help you fall back to sleep if your still tired.
John:
He thinks you are nothing short of adorable but that does not save you from him messing with you as you fall asleep on his shoulder.
He'll poke at you, try to move you, make jokes to you even as you sleep, and makes fun of it when you are awake.
It is a moment of intense intimacy, a moment of deep connection which he values. It’s like you're showing him this softer side of yourself which he's only been honored to see a handful of times.
Ada:
She'll smile to herself once she realizes this and gives you a kiss on your head as she sits still so you stay comfortable.
Loves that you found comfort in her to do this and feels a protective need come over her.
Checks up on you afterward to make sure your doing okay and getting enough rest while making sure you don't feel too embarrassed.
Finn:
He would be smiling to himself, leaning his head closer to yours. And then try to sleep with you, but he would be in his head not able to fall asleep. He would kiss your forehead and pull you closer.
He loves it. There’s no better feeling in his world. He hopes you are comfortable and will lay his jacket over you. Thinking about how peaceful you look. So content. In love. All around him.
This has never happened before and he can't help but find it very cute and endearing, and he would be very comforted. He would feel so grateful for the trust that such an act would demonstrate, and he would be very inclined to protect and support his partner’s well-being.
Polly:
She would let you sleep. She would try to keep everything quiet so that you wouldn't wake up from those noises. This love would mean the world to her, and she wants to make sure you have the best sleep possible even if she does tease you a little after you wake up.
It's very sweet. It's like a sign of trust. It doesn't happen a lot, so, when it does she knows that you really trust her. She feels like she needs to protect you, and will force everyone to quiet down especially if they want her attention.
She will let you sleep as long as you need. She will make sure no one wakes you up, she will stay by your side and hold you closely. She will protect you from anything or anyone that tries to do you any harm. You are her world.
Micheal:
He would be thrilled. This would be a sign of great trust, and, as someone who craves intimacy with the people he loves, this would give him a great sense of contentment and safety.
He can get annoyed because it’s an inconvenience if he's busy or meant to go do something. First of all, this shouldn’t be happening because if you were tired you could've gone home. Secondly, now he has a dead weight on his shoulder and he can’t move but will try to gently move you so you can keep resting but would make anyone regret waking you up.
He would let you sleep peacefully. You both would have plenty of time to speak once you wake up. He would try to keep others quiet, but he would not be upset if they were not perfectly silent. His partner is sleeping and deserves to rest without being disturbed.
Isiah:
You’ll never believe this but it makes him happy. That you feel safe with him and comfortable enough to just drift off. It’s nice, and it means you need him in your life. He's never felt anything like it before in his life. It feels right to him.
He's feeling pretty lucky to have you and he thinks you're an absolute sweetheart. He knows that sounds cliche, but it's true. He does love it when you fall asleep on his shoulder because it's a sign that you feel safe and content with him. It's something he cherishes and values. And he also just finds it really, really cute.
He'll give you a hard time and tease you but does also flirts with you to show he enjoyed having you close for however long you slept for.
Bonnie:
Can't help but enjoy this tender moment with you and how innocent it all is or how warm he gets from getting to hold you while you rest, can't help it as his thoughts start to wander about what life with be like with you and does bring it up to you once you wake.
It’s like a little victory for him when you fall asleep on his shoulder. It’s the biggest compliment for him because then he knows he's been doing something right. He loves you so much and it always brings a big stupid smile to his face when you do this.
Adores this with you and thinks you are so cute when you do that. He loves the feeling and tries his best not to move so you won't wake up. He can stay in that position for hours, just looking at your beauty while you are sleeping and knowing that you feel safe with him. This might be his favorite moment in life.
Alfie:
Thought it was adorable. You were tucked into his shoulder all snug and he knew at that moment that you and him were gonna be all right.
He's an absolute sucker for the quiet, close intimacy - when you're sleeping on his shoulder he feels like he could be in this moment for an eternity.
Another absolute menace on the list, he'll be teasing and messing with you by blowing in your ear, tickling you, poking at you, giving you kisses. You're vulnerable and he's in control, the possibilities are endless.
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storywriter007 · 1 year
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Life or Death - Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader
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summary: in which y/n realizes thomas shelby hasn't been good to her
warnings: character death, cursing, poverty, catcalling, mentions of sex,
genre: heartbreak
word count: 2.9k
-> peaky blinders masterlist
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Birmingham, 1900
"i'm starving." a young thomas shelby said aloud.
"have you not had anything to eat today?" a young y/n asked.
"money's been tight, i've had to skip meals." tommy explained.
the two ten year olds sat in silence for a moment.
y/n knew what it was like for money to be tight. her family's income had been tight, after the passing of her father. her mom went to teach children at a local school while making dresses on the side to keep the two of them afloat.
"it's almost suppertime, why don't you come to my house?" y/n invited.
"really?" he asked.
"of course." she nodded. "you're my best friend, why would i want to see you hungry?"
that evening, y/n and tommy walked home together and were given a warm welcome by y/n's mother.
"tommy! welcome!" she exclaimed. "come on in you two."
they sat down at the table and began eating supper. stew and dumplings. it was warm and delicious.
to tommy, y/n's house often felt more like home than his own. it was quite small, but it had home-like decorations everywhere. it was nice and toasty since it didn't take much fire to heat the place, and moreover y/n was there.
"you children cannot stay out in the cold during this time of year." y/n's mother scolded, putting her hand on tommy's cheek and seeing how cold it was.
"but we were playing a game-" y/n argued.
"play games inside. i don't want to see you to freeze to death." she continued.
"yes mom." y/n laughed, looking at tommy, knowing they were going to go outside the next day anyways.
it was getting dark out and tommy was full.
"i should probably get going. bye y/n, by ms. y/l/n!" tommy said, getting up.
"wait!" y/n said, running to the kitchen.
she came back with tupperware.
"here, take some home." she insisted.
"no, no, i couldn't-" he argued.
"take it! tell john, arthur, and ada i say hello!" y/n said, shoving the tupperware into his arms.
that night, tommy's siblings had a warm meal.
"this is delicious tommy! where'd you get this from?" arthur remarked.
"y/n. she insisted." he responded.
"you better marry her for this one." arthur laughed.
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Birmingham, 1904
"look at the body on that one." a classmate remarked as y/n walked by.
she just rolled her eyes and continued walking. this wasn't unusual.
"you'd make a ton of money at the whore house!" the boy yelled out again as laughter followed.
so would your mother, y/n thought of saying, but decided that it was best for her to not. this boy was twice her size.
"so would your mother." another boy's voice called out.
y/n turned around to see tommy and the other boy standing chest to chest, about to fight.
"what'd you say shelby?" the boy asked.
"so would your mother." he repeated, not an ounce of fear in his voice.
a teacher came and pulled the two apart.
"both of you seperate. if i see this again, i'll make sure to tell your mothers!" she scolded.
both the boys backed away from one another. tommy caught up with y/n.
"thanks tommy." she said.
"it's nothing, i've wanted to say that to him for a while now." tommy laughed.
"my mum's sending me to get groceries today? would you like to join me." y/n asked.
"of course." tommy agreed. "can't wait to eat apples out of the farmer's cart."
"don't do that! you got us chased down last time!" y/n scolded, remembering a set of angry farmers running after them.
they settled down after they were paid, at least. otherwise, who knows what could've happened.
"it was fun!" he argued.
"it was." she agreed.
as she watched tommy walk away, y/n realized that she had a crush on him. but it was just a crush, it wasn't that serious.
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Birmingham, 1914
"glad to see you dr." tommy smiled, opening the door to the pub.
"happier to see you mr." she returned the joke.
y/n had always wanted to save people's lives, so she entered the medical field. after gaining main patients, it became more difficult to see tommy as often as she used to. even tommy was on the rise in the business world. it was hard to hangout with one-another, but they always made time.
over the years, y/n's crush on tommy had turned into love, but she didn't know how to tell him. no time ever seemed right.
"there might be a war." tommy said, drinking whiskey at the pub.
"you think you'll get drafted?" y/n asked, wanting him to say no, but knowing what the answer was.
"yes." he answered. "unfortunately."
"it'll just be me and ada." y/n chuckled. "she's better company than you."
"oh really? go drink with her." tommy laughed. "you'll miss me when i go off."
"you know i will." y/n smiled.
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y/n realized her worst nightmare had come true as tommy stood at her front door.
"i have to go to france." he said.
she felt water fill up her eyes, but she stayed calm.
"i'll miss you." she smiled.
"i'll miss you too." he smiled back.
he turned around to leave.
"tommy, wait." she said, trying not to cry.
he turned around.
"i didn't know when to tell you this because no time ever seemed right and we were always so busy." she rambled. "but since you're going to france, and i might not see you again, i just want you to know i love you. it's no use for me to say i don't, because it's true. i've loved you ever since i've known you."
the tears started falling. he stared at her for a minute. did she ruin their friendship? did he not feel the same way? would he never talk to her again? did she have to do this before he left?
lost in her thoughts, y/n didn't realize tommy had leaned down and kissed her.
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Birmingham, 1918
y/n got down on her knees, that had already been bruised from how much she'd kneeled.
"dear god, please keep tommy, john, and arthur safe." she pleaded. "please keep tommy safe."
she'd done this every morning and every night since the boys were drafted.
"please make it end soon." she continued.
she looked at the couple of photographs her and tommy had together from years before. they used to love taking together, and writing the story on the back.
she got to their last picture. taken four years ago. it was hear and tommy making silly faces. on the back, it said, "tommy's going to france."
she felt a tear run down her cheek. what if he never came back? what if that was their last photo together?
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Birmingham, 1919
y/n was overjoyed when all three brothers returned, alive. she hugged tommy so tightly, glad he was alright.
but something had changed. tommy wasn't as happy as he used to be anymore. he didn't smiled as much, but he still did when they were together, and that was all that mattered to y/n.
y/n knew all about the shelby business, having grown very close to ada and polly, she was informed about everything. even when tommy was doing gang work before, he was never as gloomy as he was now. he was much more serious.
she tried desperately to comfort him, and it did work. he did talk about the war with her, and y/n understood he was traumatized. she didn't try to change him or tell him lighten up, she understood the mental toll it had taken on him.
countless nights would tommy tell her about the memories of war and they would end up falling asleep on the floor, in a mix of papers and books.
they were never officially together, they had never gotten then chance. but when tommy was ready, y/n hoped they could make it offical.
one night, they walked into the garrison. y/n had just finished with a long day of patients.
"dr!" arthur greeted y/n with a hug.
"arthur!" she laughed back.
however, there was a new face at the pub. she was pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. y/n came up to her.
"i haven't seen you around! are you new?" she smiled, asking.
"yes, i am new." the barmaid responded, quite curtly, y/n noticed.
"i'm y/n! what's your name?" she asked.
"grace. my name is grace." she said, briefly.
"well, grace, i just wanted to say, i think you're absolutely gorgeous." y/n smiled.
grace gave a brief smile back and went back to bartending.
odd, y/n thought, but assumed it was because of how busy the pub was, her mind was probably on working.
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"there's this new copper who's been on my ass." tommy said.
"that sucks. has he been sniffing around?" y/n asked.
"yes." he responded, taking a long drag out of his cigarette.
y/n noticed grace very clearly listening to their conversation.
"he's been asking me about, well, y'know." he continued. "they're taken care of, but still. he's onto me."
of course she knew. the guns. tommy had told her everything. his plan and why.
"that's enough about that." he ended. "how's your business, doctor?"
"it's going well." y/n chuckled. "i'm seeing entire lineages now."
"whiskey?" grace asked, coming over.
"no thank you." y/n smiled. "i should get home now."
tommy smiled and said goodbye. y/n thought that was odd, since usually tommy would've walked her out.
"thank you grace." she said, before leaving.
grace ignored her.
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y/n was sitting with the shelby's at the garrison. she noticed something about tommy, something odd. he straightened up whenever grace entered the room and he always smiled.
this wasn't the first odd thing tommy had done. since she came, he was at the pub more. he also took her to a horserace. not to mention, his eyes foretold a story between them. it had been a while since tommy looked at her that way.
but there was something odd about grace. she was always listening in and trying to get closer to tommy.
y/n asked to see tommy privately, and that's when she made her point.
"the barmaid, she seems suspicious. do you notice how she's always listening in and trying to get close to you? and how that copper start bothering you the same time she came here?" y/n said.
"her name's grace." tommy responded.
"yes, grace, seems odd." y/n corrected.
"what is it y/n? you can't stand there's another friend of mine?" he said, clearly aggravated.
"no, i don't care about that. i just don't want you to get hurt-"
"hurt? hurt is when i was in france." he interrupted.
"tommy, will you just try to listen?"
"to your bullshit? no." he said.
that hurt.
"you're free to leave." he said simply, taking a drag out of his cigarette.
y/n chuckled, and left.
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can y/n say it came as a shock when tommy told her grace had betrayed him and fled the country? not really.
"i told you so." y/n said, plainly. "it was obvious."
tommy seemed pissed at that comment.
"that doesn't mean you can talk down on her." tommy stated.
"well tommy, you can't really control what i say and what i think." she responded back, beginning to get aggravated at his blindness. "and what i think is that grace is a traitor."
"what i think is that you should leave." he said.
"always running from the truth, now-a-days, aren't you?" she smiled, leaving.
y/n would be lying if she said she didn't go home that night and cry, because she did. why was tommy so wrapped around grace? had he fallen in love with her? no, no. it was probably just attraction. it had to be. right?
the next day, tommy apologized for being so harsh to her, and everything was back to normal. no more grace, no more deception, and no more stupidity.
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y/n was still waiting for tommy to make it official, but he still hadn't. the war had been over for two years now. she had thought about tommy everyday for the past seven years.
she missed him, she missed what they used to have. it was almost midnight, and she decided she wanted to go see him. she couldn't keep waiting.
she called his number three times, but he didn't pick up, so she drove to his home, and knocked on the door. no answer. she was starting to get worried. she opened the door and walked in on something that made her stomach drop.
it was tommy with grace. and they were having sex on the sofa, and he whispered how much he loved her and how he thought of her everyday. it seemed they had finished, because now they were getting dressed. when tommy turned his head and saw y/n, his eyes grew wide.
y/n felt tears in her eyes and a lump in her throat.
he dragged her into his office.
"what the hell y/n! you can't just fucking barge into my house!" he yelled.
"i called you three times. i knocked on your door and waited outside for five minutes. with the life you live tommy, i got worried." she said, wiping her nose.
"y/n, you have to leave." he said. "i've got something here, and i can't lose it again."
again. y/n felt her stomach drop and her heart break into a thousand pieces.
"again?" she asked. "again! tommy, i have waited for you! i waited for seven fucking years, waiting for you to say you want to try something with me!" she yelled.
"do you not remember! do you not remember the night you got drafted, because i sure as hell do!" she screamed.
"y/n, calm down, you're going to scare grace-"
oh that sent her.
"grace! you think i give two fucks about grace! the one who deceived you, lied to you, manipulated you, and now comes running back!" she screamed even louder.
"i love her!" he yelled.
"you love her! you love her! than what about me!" y/n yelled, tears starting to flow. "what about every day and night i prayed for you during the war! what about every time i invited you to my house for supper! i have waited and waited for you to say that you love me and you just don't!"
tommy was silent.
"i have loved you throughout everything. i was always kind to you. i was good." she continued.
"i'm a bad man, y/n, we know this." he said.
"and i love you even though you're a bad man! you believed every one of her lies of all of my truths. and i still loved you! you kicked me out everytime i brought it up! and guess what? i still loved you."
tommy looked at her.
"who was there by your side when you were scared and alone? who was there every night when you got back from the war and had terrible nightmares? who was there taking care of finn while you were off at war, because i don't think it was fucking grace!"
"i'm sorry." he said.
"no you're not because if you were, you wouldn't have done this in the first place!" she screamed through tears.
"who was there thomas!" that was the first time she had said his full name. "i'm done. don't fucking call me, don't show up to my office, don't come near me. i'm done playing your dark and twisted games just for you to switch the rules so someone else wins. i'm done dealing with a different you every fucking night. i'm done."
thomas looked at her.
"who's it going to be?" y/n asked.
"so well." he responded.
y/n smiled and turned around to leave, but before she left, she said he final words to thomas.
"i'm never going to aid you again. whether it be in life or death."
that was the last conversation between y/n and thomas.
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Birmingham, 1924
"just have some soup and rest up, and you'll feel a lot better." y/n advised her last patient of the day.
work had become more of a thing for y/n after word of her spread all across birmingham, she was getting patients from everywhere. and for right reasons, she was a damn good doctor.
she walked them outside before sitting in the waiting room with her receptionist.
"thank you edward, you're free to leave." she said, smiling.
"see you tomorrow doctor." edward smiled as he exited.
y/n was left to close her office. she began putting files away and cleaning equiptment. the doors and windows were locked. the stationary was put away.
suddenly, she heard a loud knock on her door. she turned around to see a face she thought she'd never see again. she stared into his bright blue eyes for a moment, before realizing he was actually here, and that it was just a figment of her imagination.
y/n opened the small window on the door. she looked down to see him carrying grace. she had been very clearly shot.
"she might have a chance, please y/n."
"you chose her over me." y/n said, looking into his piercing blue eyes.
he froze.
"and i told you that very night, i would never aid you again, whether it be life or death." she reminded, shutting the window door.
he banged on the door, pleading. she shot him one last look before shutting the blinds, turning the lights off, and leaving out the back.
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heavencanbeaprisontoo · 8 months
Text
The Other Shelby Girl
Platonic!Shelby Siblings x reader
Headcanon/Imagine for a second Shelby Sister. Explores dynamics with each sibling based on of the reader were their older or younger sibling.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of war, violence, period-typical sexism, over-protective sibling drama.
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Arthur
Older Sister:
You are the third most respected woman in Arthur’s life, which is greater than it sounds. First was Mum, then Polly. To be succeeded only by Polly in Arthur Shelby’s eyes is precious. He’s always looked up to you, but didn’t always show it. After the war, Arthur would come to rely on you heavily for emotional support. There were nights he would come to your home and no be able to speak. Where he would seem to turn back into a little boy, crying into your shoulder as he begs you not to speak of this to the others. When Arthur met Linda, you were one of the few to be supportive. You are Arthur’s greatest advocate, but his pride and Tommy’s influence make it hard to help him. When you have a family of your own, it’ll only make things harder. You often feel like you have to take sides. Still, you do what you think is best.
Younger Sister:
Depending on just how young you are, Arthur might try to put on like he’s your Dad. Arthur doesn’t always know how to talk to you. You’re just a young woman, he doesn’t feel like he can talk to you the way he does with John or Tommy. He wants to tease you and pick on you as he would with Finn, but he can’t. The moment you hit out your bottom lip and look like your feelings got hurt, Arthur is a flustered mess of a guilty brother. You might resist his attempts at being fatherly, or welcome them. Regardless, you can see that Arthur just wants you to know he’s a safe space for you. Maybe if you ask him nice enough, he’ll teach you how to draw horses like he used to. No matter how old you get, Arthur is the brother that still sees you as a little girl.
Thomas
Older Sister:
Before the war, Tommy only saw you as someone who nagged at him. The meddling older sister warning him away from throwing curses at people and fighting with the cops. After the war, you became something far more delicate than that. You became something like his conscience. That pleading voice that begged for peace and forgiveness that grows fainter every year. As adults, you swear sometimes he hates you. The way he disregards you and keeps you at arm’s length. In actuality, he’s only trying to avoid the shame your hopeful gaze gives him. It was you who tried to get the brothers to hide from the draft. It was you who told him getting involved in London affairs would be dangerous. You who told him not to accept anything from the Russians. You were always right. Always good. He also feels he must protect you because you know him when he was soft and weak. Aside from Polly, you’re the last person who ever heard him laugh.
Younger Sister:
He lumps you in with Ada without really meaning to. You and Ada are both younger, and are both girls. As such, you both have similar problems that have his head aching and his trigger finger itching. Two pretty girls tend to attract a lot of scummy men. You’re both so stubborn about not needing anything from him, which is bloody absurd. Of course you need his help. Whatever money you’re making doing legitimate work isn’t going to be enough to keep you safe. You have never gone on a single date without someone Peaky Blinder watching you. Arthur tries to give advice like he’s your dad, and Tommy drops rules on you like he’s your dad. He has absolutely said the phrase, “And where are you going dressed like that?” Tommy will kill your ex-boyfriends if asked, he already knows why you want them dead and he agrees. The only thing he likes more than you accepting his help is hearing you admit he was right.
John
Older Sister:
He is the little brother who reads your diary and eats your food after being told not to. As a kid, John was Hell on legs. As an adult, John is still Hell on legs but with children. Growing up, you spent a lot of time picking John up from police stations and headmaster offices. John stresses you out like he’s being bloody paid for it. But, he loves you dearly and you forgive him more often than you should. John has called you “Mum,” as a joke many times but it’s not quite a lie. As an adult, he is far more respectful towards you. He is one to bow his head when you lecture him about fatherhood and how his drinking is going to harm his children. John respects you enough to take his cap off when he enters your home. However, he’ll still gobble down any treats you’ve left out in the kitchen and have the audacity to say, “What?!” When you shout at him for it.
Younger Sister:
John will not only read your diary and eat your snacks, but he will loudly announce your crush the moment he finds out. Any reluctance Arthur has about picking on you is nonexistent in John. He is a fully grown man who is unafraid to tease you with schoolyard chants in public spaces. Has walked into your room while you were reading just to slap something off of your desk and run. John has spent so long as the younger brother, he has to get his kicks where he can. That said, nobody better say anything rude to you. Ever. One time, a mate of his simply repeated a mean name he had called you and John slugged him for it. Nobody is allowed to annoy you but him. John is obnoxious in an almost biblical sense, but he is the one to see you cry and ask: “Who did that to you.”
Ada
Older Sister:
Yet another sibling to boss her around. Excellent! Ada is one who would resist you trying to take care of her. She doesn’t want to hear your advice! She doesn’t need it! Until her first heartbreak and then she’s sobbing on your bed waiting for you to come home. Ada hates to feel dependent on others, but she does trust you. There’s something special about having a sister. You understand each other in a way your brothers never will. The fear that builds as a man walks a few yards behind you out in the streets at night. How every romance has that bitter taste as you think about all that you’ll lose if you were to get married. Ada gets her best advice from you, but you’re also her security. You were probably the one to start taking her to the movie theater. It’s likely that Ada imitates you subconsciously. When you got your hair bobbed, so did Ada. When you started wearing heels, so did Ada. She denies it, but it’s obvious that she follows your lead.
Younger Sister:
Might be a sad thing to say, but Ada didn’t think much of you until she had Karl. You were just this clinging little sister that everyone thought she was supposed to take care of. All you did was follow her about town and put your nose where it didn’t belong. Tommy probably found out about her and Freddie through you. You don’t mean to be annoying, you’re just lonely. Ada couldn’t see that until she had a child and a home away from Small Heath. The dynamic flips hard when Ada comes back to Small Heath. Ada is all about leading you in “the right direction,” and is very serious about your education. She essentially begs Tommy to set aside money for you to go to university when you express interest. You want to be in with the Peaky Blinders, though. Oh, God. You’re in your rebellious phase and Ada wants to shake you till you forget all about jazz and pretty boys with guns. You both adore each other, but you butt heads over where your life is going and who should have a say in what direction it goes.
Finn
Older Sister:
Between you, Polly and Ada, he’s almost got a mother. As a young boy, Finn has actually called for you as his mother by accident. It makes sense. You were often left in charge of him. To Finn, you are all that he knows. It’s often left to you to make sure he goes to school and stays out of trouble. You’ve spent many afternoons arguing with his teachers to give him a second chance. Finn needs that, someone to stick up for him. That doesn’t mean he always likes it though. Finn wants to be a gangster, like his older brothers. You want him to do literally anything but that. When Tommy, Arthur, and John, pick on him too much you are the one to back Finn up. He used to like it… until he was roughly twelve. What used to be you coming to his rescue has become you inadvertently humiliating him. You try to back off, but Finn makes poor choices for himself which require you to come save him. Therefore, the cycle continues.
Younger Sister:
You are the only one beneath him in the Shelby Family Pecking Order, and he lives for it. When Finn has a bad day, he takes it out on you. Why not? It isn’t like he had anyone else he can push around and be the boss of. So, he’ll cut your dolls’ hair, call you names, and make fun of the things you like. But only if there’s other boys who can see him do it. When he goes too far and you cry, he has to answer to all of your siblings and Polly. Finn picks on you to soothe his own ego. When it’s just you and Finn, he’s very quiet. You two can spend hours not talking but be perfectly happy. Finn likes to turn on the radio and just sit, listening to music or the results of a boxing match. Sometimes, he vents to you about how Tommy wouldn’t let him do this or do that. You always listen to him. Finn usually takes these quiet times to apologize for past pranks or insults. You always forgive him. It’s odd to you how your accepting of his apology seldom puts him in a better mood. Truth is, he’s very jealous of you.
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amidst-wonderland · 3 months
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i don’t know if this is gonna ruffle a few feathers but there’s an account on twitter that’s basically going through a fuck ton of peaky fics on ao3 and a handful of tumblr ones posting sections and being overly pedantic about historical accuracy. which fair enough if it annoys you but dont actively take people’s work, post it elsewhere, make it incredibly fucking obvious what fic it is and be super snide about someone else’s entertainment that doesn’t harm you in any way.
i don’t necessarily think it’s reductive as there’s genuinely some discussion to be had with more sensitive topics, however it just feels real scummy especially because you just know the fic writers aren’t aware so aren’t getting anything constructive out of it.
the only reason i came across it was because it’s been happening in some of my other fandoms - people posting and “critiquing” fics on twitter to point and laugh at writers - and it honestly feels violating and it didn’t even happen to me (at least i fuckin’ hope not).
it’s fuckin’ ao3. leave people alone and stop posting their work without their consent.
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nyasiaaaaa · 8 months
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In the Bleak Mid-Winter
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )
Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2
A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5
********************
It's been a year. 
A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 
You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 
You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 
It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 
You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 
You barely eat, you barely sleep. 
When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 
She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 
These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 
And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 
You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 
You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.
But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 
You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 
"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.
They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 
You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 
You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 
"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.
He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 
"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.
"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 
"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 
"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 
"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 
He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 
You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 
"They killed John." 
"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 
"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked
He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 
"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."
Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 
He was hurting. 
You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 
"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away
Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 
"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 
"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.
You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.
"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 
He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 
"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 
You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—
You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 
Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 
You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 
It's too late. 
You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 
Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 
It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 
You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 
You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.
"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 
You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 
"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 
"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 
"Thank you, curly." 
They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 
"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.
 So you just nodded your head, ok. 
Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 
"What's her name," he asks. 
"Ruby" 
"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 
You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 
You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 
The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 
 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 
So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.
************************
For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 
You were back in Birmingham. 
Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 
 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  
"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 
"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 
You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 
"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 
"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."
"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 
"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.
The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 
"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 
"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 
Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 
He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 
"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 
He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 
You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."
"Yeah" 
"Is it safe?" 
"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 
"And where will you be?" 
"Out" 
"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 
Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 
"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.
"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 
"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 
Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 
Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 
Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 
"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 
"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 
"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 
Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 
You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 
"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.
"When I'm finished" 
"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 
He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 
"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 
You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 
"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 
Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said
"You already did love." 
He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 
You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 
You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 
You scream.
You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 
How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 
Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 
You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 
You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 
As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 
You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 
You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 
You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 
You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 
You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 
After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 
That boy sleeps wild.
***********************
You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 
The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 
You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.
"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 
"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 
"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.
"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 
"Baby?"
"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 
"Who that" 
You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 
He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 
"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.
"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 
You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 
You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 
"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.
"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 
Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 
You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 
He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 
You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"
He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 
He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 
After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 
Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.
"Are you my new ma" 
The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 
As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 
You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 
Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 
You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 
"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 
"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 
He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 
You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 
By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 
After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?
.
.
.
You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.
You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 
You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.
You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 
You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.
You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 
She's not there. 
You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 
You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.
Where is she?
How could I not hear someone take her? 
When did I get up here? 
.
.
.
Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?
Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 
Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 
She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 
You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 
As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.
That this is just for now and that
Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 
***********************
Tag list:
@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890
I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.
P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.
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warnersister · 9 months
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“Peaky Blinders Masterlist”
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Headcannons📽️🎞️
👩‍🍼How the Peaky boys react when you tell them you don’t want children
👼How the Peaky boys react when they find out the reader is a virgin
🥐How the Peaky boys react when dating a girl with a praise kink (nsfw)
👗How the Peaky boys react to you wearing a sundress (nsfw)
Isaiah Jesus♟️
♟️Dark! Isaiah Jesus x Reader -> you try to leave him
♟️Best Interest -> after your brother Tommy turns violent during an altercation about your love interest Isaiah; you run to your eldest sibling, Arthur for comfort (request)
Michael Gray🎱
🎱Intoxicating Toxicity -> song based headcannon
🎱Your Lethal Hand -> Tom killed your husband and now you shall retaliate
🎱Tea in the Cotswolds -> Michael is tasked with entertaining a wealthy business associate’s daughter while the rest talk business (author’s fav🩷🩷)
Luca Changretta🚬
🚬ultimatum -> your brother Thomas has a decision to make: your life or many
Alfie Solomons🧸
🧸the silent treatment -> you can’t stay quiet and mad at him forever, not if Alfie can help it
🧸if you’ll have me -> the oddly timed belated visit to his synagogue gave reason for Alfie to keep visiting (Jewish reader)
🧸by the book of liviticus -> how Alfie acts while his wife practises being a niddah (Jewish reader)
Finn Shelby🎞️
🎞️Pre Traumatic Stress Disorder -> Finn sees his brothers’ wives comforting them when they have a PTSD episode, why can’t he tell a little white lie and get the same treatment from you?
Tommy Shelby🪖
🪖Best Interest -> after your brother Tommy turns violent during an altercation about your love interest Isaiah; you run to your eldest sibling, Arthur for comfort (request)
Arthur Shelby🍺
🍺Best Interest -> after your brother Tommy turns violent during an altercation about your love interest Isaiah; you run to your eldest sibling, Arthur for comfort (request)
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call-sign-shark · 9 months
Text
Savage Daughter || Shelby family x You
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Summary:  When the Shelby family gathers together, chaos is never far. Yet, for once, it's not the men who bring it but you, and soon the girls join you too. (based on Ekatarina Shelehova - Savage Daughter)
Words: 1.2k
Notes:
✞ This story is linked with the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes but can be read as a stand-alone.
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Slipping your finger between your diamond choker and your skin, you took a big exhale — the expensive corset you wore for the occasion was crushing your ribcage. The sound of chatters, clinging glasses, and classical music might have been loud but all you could hear was your own pulse, beating in your temples faster and faster with each labored breathing.
Your crystal eyes scanned the room, looking for your husband but it seemed that he was also in distress, standing still behind Tommy with his gaze fixed upon an invisible spot on the wall. Arthur was nervously chewing the inside of his cheek, visibly as uncomfortable as you when surrounded by all these posh guests, and yet, he had no other choice but to keep playing the bodyguard for his younger brother.
"Mr. Shelby, what a wonderful party you're hosting here! Arrow House is wonderful, I reckon." An old, ugly gentleman, dressed in a suit more expensive than everything your parents had ever owned, said with his silly accent. If being honest, he was looking absolutely ridiculous with his ears too big and his triple chin far too fat for such a small bowtie. To play the Devil's advocate, your mocking thoughts were justified: the pig had tried to grope almost every woman he had talked with. And as if this previous fact didn't render him despicable enough, he had ignored Arthur as if he were part of the ballroom's furniture. Another sigh, louder this time, escaped from your lips at the painful sensation of the blisters behind your heels when they rubbed against your tight shoes.
When Arthur came back to you, one look at his pursed lips had been enough for you to guess that he had spent the last ten minutes keeping himself from strangling the impolite Mr. Dempsey.
"Fookin' bastard, can't even say a bloody 'hello' to me. I swore I should've cut his fucking —" Stopping mid-sentence, the lanky gangster suddenly frowned and tilted its head at the sight of you taking your high heels off, only half listening to him, "The hell you're doing, angel?"
"I'm taking my heels off, that's what I do." You replied, grunting as you undid the complicated laces that were climbing up your shinbones, "And I don't care if it ain't classy or decorous, these shoes are making my skin bleed and this damn corset is suffocating me!" Talking about the corset, you pulled on the delicate silky laces to tear them apart and free your body from this inhumane trap until all you were wearing was a thin white summer dress.
"Heaven, love," Arthur tried to interrupt as he noticed how a few outraged guests were already whispering together all the while glaring at you. Among them, Tommy Shelby's arctic iris.
"I'm dead serious: I'm trapped here among hypocrites, suffering in clothes their wives criticized when they saw me while I could be outside, peacefully enjoying the immense garden of the mansion. A garden which is, by the way, the only enjoyable feature of this golden cage. All of this only because Tom wants people to believe we're all getting along in the family, tsk." Arthur closed his mouth, unable to find something to retort to your murderous prose. Maybe that was why he looked at you silently instead, a glimmer of amusement shining in his still blue eyes. "What?" You finally asked, not comprehending why the lanky gangster was now smiling, his mustache slightly lifted on one side.
"Gimme these shits." With that being said, Arthur took your heels and corset from your hands before leaning above you and kissing your forehead with indescribable tenderness, completely obliterating the rest. "Now go," The gravel in his voice rumbled, "Go run barefoot and curse at sharp stones, I ain't going to pin your wings." Of course you felt suffocating, he thought, for he knew you didn't belong here. Just like him. But while he had to remain somewhat near to his brother for the whole evening, Arthur never wished to inflict such torment on your savage soul: you were born to dance around fires, in the curves of old bones, or look for omens in the falling of feathers. Not to sip on champagne and boast about your riches with aristocratic ladies.
"Really?" You inquired, the fierceness of your face softening at your husband's surprising —and understanding— reaction. Arthur winked at you for a sole reply before turning around and barking at those who were still observing you with a loud "The fook you're looking at me wife ay? Go back to your chit-chat!". It had been the final nail in Tommy's coffin, who pinched his nose as if to stop a dawning headache — a headache that bore your name.
Offering one shark-like and insolent smile to little King Shelby, you left the ballroom running barefoot and only stopped when you found yourself in the middle of the garden, slowly spinning on yourself. With your doll-like face facing the night sky, you relished the sensation of the fresh breeze softly grazing your skin in welcoming strokes. A cheerful giggle fell from your plump lips as rays of moonlight illuminated your dainty frame like a myriad of motherly hands ready to catch you.
"Hey! Devil! You're nothing but trouble, you know that?!" A feminine voice erupted behind you, making you stop dancing and glance from where the soft lilt was coming. What was your surprise when your gaze met Ada's cunning smile! Beside her Polly was standing, her frail arms crossed on her bosom but her ebony eyes displaying an excitement she hadn't felt in years.
"I can't help it, Ada. I'm my mother's savage daughter!" You exclaimed, opening your arms to fake a pretentious bow — a move that stirred a sincere laugh from your sister-in-law.
"Tommy's mad." She said through her grin.
"Tommy's always mad. Why don't you join me?" At your offering, Ada side-eyed her dear Aunt, not sure if she could momentarily strip from the elegant Mrs. Thorne mask and be herself for once. For fuck's sake! Can't they fucking behave?! Can't your fucking wife stop fucking everything up just once eh?! Tommy's voice was roaring from the inside of Arrow House, just what Ada and Polly needed to make up their mind.
Freeing themselves from fancy hats, oppressive clothes, and painful high heels, both Polly and Ada joined you in the middle of the garden, the two of them grabbing one of your hands to form a round dance.
We are our mother's savage daughters, you sang.
I'm not joking Arthur! Did you think about what people are going to say?!
We are our mother's savage daughters, Ada followed. Her voice swirled up to the sky, each note bringing her closer to her mom she barely knew.
We will not cut our hair! We will not lower our voice! Polly's cheered louder, and as she did she was sixteen again, walking barefoot in the mud with a horse's rein in one hand and flowers in the other.
And deep in our bones, the old songs are waking So sing them with voices of thunder and rain, the wind carried your chant away. So far away that somewhere on the road, one Romani woman, fierce and beautiful, felt the wild drums of nature beating within her as she braided the hair of her adorable little girl.
"Are you okay Mom?" She asked, concerned by her mother's sudden stop.
"Yes, Katie. Yes, I am."
Esme smiled.
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✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.
✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd
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unknowntoyou2205 · 1 year
Text
Never threaten with the Shelby sister (1/2)
Info: Tommy Shelby never believed y/n when she said a guy had threatened her life for something her brother did, but she realizes the truth when it's too late.
Relationship: Tommy Shelby x sister
Masterlist
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Y/n Shelby lived a completely different life to her brothers, when she finished school she went on to college and got a nurses degree and moved on to get an actual job instead of the gangsta life her brothers lived. Growing up y/n was always protected by her brothers, when they came home from the war Tommy did all he could to prevent his sister from seeing the life he had when he was abroad at war. He tried to keep her away from the life he and his brothers lived, but ultimately he couldn't prevent his enemies from knowing that he had younger siblings, and that his prized possesion was the baby of the group, Y/n Shelby. Everyone knew that y/n was the apple in Tommys eyes and that if they even came close to hurting her, they would pay. Though perhaps not everyone did, or some were more daring than the others.
Y/n finished up her shift and started making her way home from the hospital. Rooting through her bags fro the house keys she didn't realize that there was someone behind her until she was grabbed and pulled backwards into an alley way. Y/n tried to dig her heals into the ground to prevent her attacker from taking her when two men came and grabbed her from her attacker, pinning her to the wall and allowing her head to smack against the bricks. She groaned as her vision blurred before clearing, only to see a man come into vision.
"Ahh the young shelby girl, guess th rumours are true when they say you've got the body that men crave." THe man taunted her, coming closer to her face.
"Who the hell are you?" Y/n demanded to know, also moving her head closer to the man only for him to push it back into the wall.
"You don't know me but your brother dure does. I believe his name is Tommy Shelby."
Y/n went to move her knee up to the mans crotch but the man seen her intention and grabbed her leg before she could move, and smirked as he placed it up around his waist.
"Now now, be nice, we just need you to bring Tommy boy a little message from us. Tell him that if he doesn't give back what is mine, his dearest sister will pay the price." The man spoke, bringing a hand up to grab y/ns chin, before moving her head to place a kiss to her cheek.
"Who are you?" Y/n asked again, her voice trembling a bit.
"Doesn't matter who I am, your brother will know when you pass on the message." The man spoke before nodding to the two men who had her pinned to the wall "Let her go."
Y/n gasped as the men pushed her away from the wall and onto the ground, winching upon impact. She glanced up at the men who attacked her as they laughed and left her there to gather herself up and head on home.
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Tommy Shelby sat at the kitchen table with a cigarette in his mouth and a glass of whiskey in his hand as he waited for his youngest sibling to come home. Usually, when he came home late at night, y/n would be in the kitchen waiting for him to get home and make sure he ate before leaving for bed. She would tell him about any troubles she had in her day of work and in turn he would tell her how well they got on with the gambling business that day. Some days he would walk her home from work and they would stop at the stables to see his horses, and y/n would get up on one and they’d go for a short run before heading home to Grace and Charles for dinner.
Today however, none of that happened. When Tommy went to surprise his sister outside the local hospital one of her colleagues told him that she had finished earlier today and had made her way home but when he got home the only people there were Grace and their son. Which is why he was now in his seat at the kitchen table awaiting the sound of the key in the door. But when one hour turned to two, Tommy grew worried and got up to go look for her. He had just grabbed his coat when he heard the front door open and y/n stepped through it, her work dress dirty and hair out of place.
Y/n sat at the kitchen table and placed her hands on her face, sighing in frustration as the tears  began to fall down her cheeks. She looked up at the pot that began to boil as her vision was clouded with tears, afraid for what would happen if Tommy didn’t soon believe her.
“Tommy.” Y/n spoke ,relieved to see him.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Tommy cursed at his sister, and y/n flinched at the harsh tone he used  at her.
“Tommy, let me explain.” y/n stated, hanging up her coat and heading towards the kitchen, Tommy following.
“Please do, why were you out this late. I went to walk you home from work only for one of the nurses you work with to tell me that you finished early today. So imagine my surprise when I got home to see that you weren’t here either. I was expecting the worst till you just strolled in as nothing happened.” Tommy raged to his sister as she filled the pot with water to boil for some tea.
“Oh a lot has happened trust me. This man…”
“Your seeing a man and he made you late is it? Well I want to see this man and…”
“Tommy no, it’s really nothing like that. This group of men attacked me and this man threatened me, told me to tell you that if you don’t give back what’s his than your dearest sister will pay the price.”
So it was a group of men now. I think your trying to cover for where you actually were.”
“No Tommy I’m not. I think this man was serious. Whatever you took from him he wants back.” Y/n stated, moving to lean against the table as she looked at her brother.
“And who was this man y/n? Who threatened your life if I don’t give back what’s his hmm?” Tommy asked, narrowing his eyes at y/n.
“I dunno, he said you’d know who he was when I told you.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, looking at her brother with pleading eyes.
“Thomas, what’s going on?” Grace asked as she came down the stairs to the kitchen where Tommy stared at his sister.
“Nothing love, let’s head to bed.” Tommy stated, heading towards Grace and following her out of the kitchen.
“Tommy please, I really don’t think this guy is fooling around. He seemed dead serious of what will happen.” Y/n pleaded with her brother as she moved to the kitchen door.
“Right y/n, and I am dead serious, get rid of the man before I find out who your getting involved with.” Tommy stated, pointing a finger at his sister before heading upstairs with Grace.
“I’m not fooling around with anyone.” Y/n cried out but her cried fell on deaf ears.
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Three days later y/n was on getting ready for work. The last few days had been emotional to say the least. Tommy still refused to believe her and as a result, Grace had asked her to leave their house for to allow things to cool down as their conflict was starting to effect Charles. So y/n had returned back to Pollys home where she had consoled in her aunt about what was happening. Y/n feared for what could happen if Tommy soon didn’t believe her and Polly was running out of ways to comfort her youngest niece. Polly couldn’t believe that Tommy didn’t believe his sister, the same sister that stuck by his side at his worst.
Shouting bye to Polly and grabbing her lunch for the day, y/n began to make her way to work for the day. Polly had asked Michal to walk his cousin to work so the young man was trailing behind her to allow her some space. As they turned the corner to the hospital y/n can’t help but stop as she felt someone was watching her. She looked around to see if she could see anyone, and as Michal went to ask her what was wrong a shot was heard. Y/n and Michal ducked their heads as Michal ran towards y/n, trying to get her to safety. He pushed her onto the ground behind a car as a figure came into view.
Y/n looked to the left of the car to see another man from before coming towards them. She hit Michal’s arm to catch his attention as the man lifted his gun towards her.
“Y/n Shelby, I tried to warn you.” The man called out, taking a shot to the ground close to where the duo hid.
“I tried to tell him, he wouldn’t listen to me. Please, leave me be.” Y/n called out to the man with a shaky voice.
“Who is he?” Michal asked his cousin, seeing the look of fear present on her face.
“I dunno, someone Tommy crossed.” Y/n shrugged before flinching as a bullet went through the window above them.
The two covered their heads with their arms as glass showered them and Michal got out his gun.
“Since when do you have a gun?” Y/n whisper shouted at her younger cousin.
“Tommy gave it to me. Told me I was a Shelby so needed one for the family business.” Michal explained briefly as he peaked over the cars bonnet to see if he could see where the man was.
“Yeah, family business is great alright.” Y/n muttered, “Does aunt Pol know?”
“Yeah.” Michal spoke before taking a shot in the direction of the man.
All y/n could hear were bangs continuously going off. Pain encased her body as another shot was fired in her direction, hitting her in the stomach and she cried out, gaining the attention of her cousin. Michal glanced down at the girl his aunt told to protect when he felt something hit his shoulder. He groaned in pain and looked up to see the men fall to the ground as another bang was heard, and Michal turned his attention to his cousin as she struggled on the ground.
“Michal…” Y/n tried to get her cousins attention before a sharp pain was felt on her shoulder.
“What?” Michal asked before seeing the other man.
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Thomas Shelby was a man of many things, and one things that was known was his ability to be stubborn. Never would you hear him apologize for his actions or admit if he was wrong. But this changed when it came to his youngest sibling. Y/n took out the best of him, so after their falling out and y/n leaving the manor, Tommy’s attitude became more rigid. No one was an exception to the hot worded conversations he gave, and his aunt was no exception.
And so, he did. Tommy stared at his aunt for a few minutes before sighing in frustration and grabbing his coat, putting on his cap as he left. Hands in his pockets, Tommy strolled along the back alley towards the hospital where y/n work. But the sight he seen wasn’t one he expected. One-minute he seen y/n and Michal were walking towards the hospital, the nest gun shots were heard and the two were ducking their heads as they ran to a random car for cover. Tommy looked around and seen no one, but grabbed his gun as he moved closer to the scene. Two men came into his vision and his blood ran cold, realizing who it was. Glaring ahead of him, he raised his hand, shooting towards the men, wounding one on impact. Hearing a gasp, he recognized the voice as y/n and instantly ran closer to the other man, causing him to turn and look at the Shelby man who pointed the gun at him.
“Thomas Shelby, I am very disappointed in you. Disregarding your sister like that.”  Polly exclaimed to her nephew as she walked into the manor.
“If this is about y/n and her attitude than I don’t want to hear about it.” Tommy stated sharply, causing Polly to tut in disapproval.
“Oh you will listen to me Tommy, because you and I both know that y/n doesn’t easily become scared, and I have never seen her as scared as she has been since them men threatened her for your stupidity.”
“I’m sure she’s fine Pol, she’ll get over it.” Tommy rolled his head up before lighting his cigarette.
“Go to her Tommy, see for yourself.” Polly stated, staring hard at Tommy.
“Never threaten the Shelby sister.” Tommy stated before pulling the trigger, the man dropping to the ground.
Part 2
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corrupte3d-mindz · 3 months
Text
Sleepless Nights
Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader
Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.
Wordcount: 2.3k
Warnings:
soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.
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Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.
The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.
As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.
Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.
“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.
She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”
Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.
“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”
She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”
Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.
She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”
Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”
He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."
But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.
“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”
Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."
He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.
"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.
She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."
He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.
"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."
She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."
He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."
They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.
“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.
She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.
His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.
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Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.
The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.
His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.
Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.
The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.
A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.
She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.
He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"
She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."
Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."
He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."
She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."
They both stood there looking at each other.
"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.
She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."
He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."
She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."
Author’s Notes:
Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune
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xpiredcheeto · 2 years
Text
Glass
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(Not my gif)
word count
Reader stays out late and comes home injured.
Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Arthur Shelby x sister reader, Ada Shelby x sister reader
Warnings: Blood, injuries, blood, death, killing, cursing, reader gets attacked, mentions of cocaine, Arthur is sad and needs a hug very bad, mentions of prostitution. I think that's all. 
This takes place during season 2
word count:  2395
 This whole situation could have been avoided if you had decided to call it an early night and ignored your burning desire to stay awake and go to some pub in the middle of the night, but of course, being a Shelby, you decided to go out. 
You walked down the cold and dark alleyway leading to the building. The outside walls were cracking, paint was peeling from its edges. Just the place you were looking for. It was called The Red Lion. You walked up the brick steps of the pub, and the click of your shoes echoed in your mind. The mahogany door had a stained glass window depicting a fisherman. You had no idea what a pub called "The Red Lion" was doing by having an image of a fisherman as their window, but maybe they got it on sale. 
It was far away from the watchful eyes of Small Heath, away from your reputation. It freed you in a certain way. Unfortunately, being away from the negatives of your reputation also meant you were away from the protection it brought with it. Normally this was not an issue, but tonight was different. When you walked into the pub, everything became silent at once. All heads in the bar turned to face you. Maybe you were not as far from your reputation as you thought you were.  
"You think she's a spy?" one man asked another 
The old floors creaked under your footsteps. You approached the bartender to ask for your usual when a voice from behind confronted you. "Yer not allowed in our pub, little girl. Why don't you run on home?" 
You made note of his voice, he was Irish and he spoke with a level of arrogance like no one had ever told him "no" in his life. 
"Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. I came here for a drink and I'm going to get it. If you would just leave me alone I could have my drink in peace and you won't have to worry about me."
You could tell by the look on his face that he didn't like the answer you had given him. his brows furrowed and his expression contorted into one of annoyance. 
"I asked you to leave and when I ask you to do something, you better do it. Now, this is your last chance to leave before something happens that you won't like." He was trying to scare you and it wasn't working. You were going to hold your ground until this strange man left you alone. 
  "Look, I just told you that I'm not leaving so why don't you just leave me alone-" you were cut off when two hands grasped your shoulders. They dragged you backward off your chair and onto the wooden flooring of the bar. You hit the ground with a bang and waves of pain radiated up and down your spine. You let out a hiss of pain and the hands grabbed you again. This time they angled you toward a glass table before you could process what had happened. Your body was thrown with such force you could not stop the trajectory of your body. You threw both arms out in front of your face to block the impact of the table. Suddenly, waves of white-hot, stinging pain punctured your forearms. Blood trickled down your arms as you looked up. There were two men before you, the one that confronted you earlier and another. His face was withered, and his expression bore a constant snarl as he looked down at you. 
"Are you two fucking insane?! That's the Shelby girl, her brothers will fucking kill all of us!" the bartender was seething with rage. His face was a glowing red color. You glanced back at the men, they looked scared now. 
You looked down at the floor, the brown wood now tainted red with your blood. You heard movement behind you, rushed and frantic, then the slamming of the front door. You looked back up at the bartender, he threw a dishtowel at you. "For the bleeding," he said. You held the dirty rag to your left arm, leaving the right to bleed all over your clothes. 
You limped to the door, turned the handle, and walked out. A rush of frigid air hit you, cooling the thick rivets of blood streaming from your arm. The walk home wasn't too long but the pain was making it seem so much longer. You looked down at your white blouse, patches were saturated with red blood. The way it stuck to your skin was revolting, partially dried, and sticky. The metallic stench was almost overwhelming if not for the pain coursing through your body. And, oh God, it hurt. It wasn't just the pain from your arms, your back still ached from the fall, and it made each step agony.   
You were approaching Small Heath now. The smell was normally the first thing that hit you, but not tonight, now the only thing you could think of was blood and glass. The shards still embedded into your arms made each movement painful. You could see the house now, you were so close.
You walked up to the door, twisted the handle, and pulled. Awaiting you in the kitchen was Ada. Her eyes shot up, "Do you know how worried I was-" she cut herself off. "Oh my God, Y/N, what happened? Come here     I'll patch you up." Her face was laced with concern. "Sit down, I'll get the bandages." She got up and move to the bathroom, you could hear her rummaging around in the cabinets. Glancing at your arms, you saw the rag was saturated with blood.
Behind you, you heard the door opening, then a loud gasp. It was Arthur. "Jesus Christ, who the fuck did this to you?" he was next to you now, looking at your arms. You responded, "I don't exactly know who it was. There were two of them, but I don't know what I did to upset them that much."
  Ada returned from the bathroom with her hands full of bandages and a pair of tweezers. Arthur looked relieved to see her. She acknowledged Arthur and started speaking "I found the bandages," she held up the pair of tweezers, "and these are for the glass." She sat down next to you. "How did this happen?" she asked again. 
"I got thrown through a table." You replied. Arthur let out a sigh of anger. Ada picked up her tweezers and looked up at your face. "This might hurt so prepare yourself." The tweezers grasped at a piece of glass and you let out a hiss. Arthur noticed and tried to calm you. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. The door opened once more. All three of you turned your heads, Tommy was standing in the doorway with a look of confusion burned onto his features.   He took a step towards you and spoke. "What the fuck happened?"  
"She got thrown through a fucking table, Tom," Arthur responded for you. 
"What the fuck do you mean she got thrown through a table?! Who the fuck threw her through a table?" You moved to answer but let out a pained gasp when Ada pulled one of the shards out. Arthur looked back at you and moved his hand to rub up and down your back. 
"I-oh fuck, I don't know who it was. They were Irish and in a pub called The Red Lion. I don't even know what I did to offend them so much." you spoke through gritted teeth.
Arthur looked at Tommy, they were going to trash the pub later and find the men that did this, but first, they needed to make sure you were going to be alright. Ada moved to another shard, this one came out easier than the last, but the pain was still significant. And, oh god, you were crying now. 
"This really fucking hurts." you sobbed out. Arthur responded to you, "I know, love. I swear I'm gonna kill everyone that hurts you. I-I'll fucking kill the people that did this." He looked like he was about to cry too. Ada looked up from her work to inform you she was almost done removing the glass, just one more to go. You looked at Tommy, he had moved and was now sitting on a chair across the kitchen. He shot Arthur a glance and said "Tomorrow, brother."
Ada was getting ready to pull the final one out now, it was located near your left wrist. At this point, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, the blood loss made you dizzy and lightheaded. She grasped it with her tweezers and pulled. Your eyes shot open and you let out a scream of pain. Arthur grabbed your right hand and rested his head on the corner of your neck. It was the closest he could get to hugging you at this moment.
"Alright love, the painful part is over, all I have to do now is wrap them up." Her voice always seemed to soothe you. She placed the edge of the bandage in your palm and wrapped it around a few times. She then moved it down to loop around your thumb before wrapping it around your forearm. She repeated the process on your other arm. You looked over at Tommy, he stared forward in a silent rage.
"I'm gonna go to bed now." You moved to get up. Tommy moved from his chair, "No, love, you shouldn't be walking. I'll carry you to bed, Alright?" You nodded and he walked over, he looped one arm under your knees and one beneath your back. He lifted you and carried you up the stairs, he pushed the door open with his side and laid you on the bed. He went to your dresser and grabbed a nightgown for you. He laid it on the bed for you to put on. He turned to leave the room, "Thank you." 
"You don't need to thank me, love." He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head before turning and leaving the room. You unbuttoned the now red blouse you were wearing and pulled it off, it dragged on your arms sending pain blooming through them. You let out a small hiss and let it drop to the floor. You reach down and slid your bottoms off, also leaving them on the floor. You pulled the nightgown over your head and down the rest of your body, you moved to get under the covers when you heard a knock at the door followed by a voice. You sat up. "Hello, can I come in? If you don't want me to that's fine... I just don't want you to be alone right now." It was Arthur.
"Yeah, come in."
The door opened with a creak and he walked over to you. He gently grabbed you in his arms and held you. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I...I don't ever want you getting hurt and I wish I was there so I could keep you safe." he paused. "Can I stay in here tonight, so I can make sure you're safe?" he looked at you, awaiting your response.
"Yes, Arthur, you can stay in here tonight." 
"Alright, love. I'll sit in the chair over there." He pointed to the chair across your room next to your fireplace. "No, Arthur. You can sleep in bed with me. I don't mind, I'd feel safer that way anyways." He looked surprised, but he walked over to your bed and slid in next to you. He adjusted his position next to you and said, "Alright, love, go to sleep now. You need your rest."  
He looped his arms around you in a protective hug. He held you tight to his chest as if you would disappear if he let go. "Please don't scare me like that again," he spoke as if he was still scared that you were seriously injured. "I don't know what id do if I lost you." his voice was breaking, and you could tell he was holding back tears. You could tell he wanted to say more, to tell you he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he wasn't there to keep you safe. He didn't tell you he would blame himself for the rest of his life if you died and how he already gets nightmares about that exact scenario. Instead, he held you tighter and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. You could feel his tears run down your shoulder like shiny pearls. You felt like crying too. 
"Oh, Arthur. I would never leave you like that. I'm so sorry I made you worry about me." You turned around so you could wrap your arms around him, wincing slightly when the sheets rubbed against the bandages. "It's alright, love. It's not your fault. It's those fucking men that hurt you. I'll find 'em, make sure they never hurt you again." 
"It's alright, Arthur. They can't hurt me now." You made your voice as soft as possible in an attempt to calm him. 
"I know, love. I know," he paused. "Just...If you want a drink, go to The Garrison. Won't be mad as long as you don't end up like me. Oh god, please don't end up like me... I'm sorry. I'm keeping you up. Go to sleep now, you need rest." 
"It's Okay, Arthur. You don't need to apologize, and you need to stop insulting yourself."  He nodded into your neck. You shut your eyes and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. You savored the feeling of protection that your brother gave you, it made you feel like you were safe from anything while you were in his arms. And you most likely were, he would do anything to keep you safe, even if that meant bashing someone's head in with a glass ashtray. Even if that meant killing fathers and sons, none of it was as important as keeping you safe. You drifted into the abyss of sleep in his arms, knowing that none of your fears would be able to harm you.
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You Cup Their Face
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Thomas: He would be surprised at first, but he would lean into your hand and look deeply into your eyes. He would see your love for him and return it; the touch is tender and loving; it makes him feel warm and calm. He would enjoy the intimacy of the moment, soaking in the affection and holding it close in his heart forever.
Arthur: He would be surprised at first, as it's not something he ever expected from anyone. However, he would smile and let his partner cup his face, happy to receive the affection. He might even close his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to enjoy the closeness. As the moment lingered, he would open his eyes and look directly into yours, searching for reassurance that you were both having a meaningful, loving moment.
John: He would react by cupping your face as well, a sign of closeness and affection, while he gazes into your eyes with a sincere smile. He can see the love and trust that you have for him, which makes him feel at ease around you, and he wants to repay that trust with more affection, more closeness, more love.
Ada: She would be stunned and overwhelmed with emotion and joy if her partner cupped her cheek with any sign of affection. With a small squeal and a smile, she would lean into your touch and press her cheek into your palm gently.
Finn: He would be surprised at the sudden closeness and caressing of his face. It would spark a blush, as he is not used to such physical affection. However, he would let you continue for a moment, before breaking in to ask, "Um, do you need something?"
Polly: She gasps with delight as her partner gently cups her face in her palm, your touch sending a shiver up her spine. She leans into her partner's touch, savoring the closeness of your body and the sensation of your touch. She closes her eyes, breathing in deeply as she lets herself become consumed in the moment. She opens her eyes again, locking eyes with you and smiling softly, expressing appreciation for your attention and affection.
Micheal: He's a little surprised by your touch, but it's not exactly unwelcome. He smiles at you in appreciation and lets you hold his face for a moment, enjoying the intimacy of these moments you both spend together.
Isiah: He'd probably be surprised, as it's not something he's used to. But he'd be excited and honored that someone would do that to him, and he'd want to show that the only way he knew how: by giving you the most loving embrace possible. With how close it'd get your faces, he'd also use the opportunity to tell you how much you mean to him.
Bonnie: He would immediately feel safe and protected. He would lean into your touch and smile, feeling warm and secure in your presence. It would feel like your shielding him from the world, and he would want to return the favor by wrapping his arms around you and showing you affection.
Alfie: If his partner cupped his face, he would be surprised and delighted. He's sensitive to physical touch and enjoys the feeling of closeness when someone he cares about touches him. He would look into your eyes and enjoy the warm, loving embrace. You are a source of comfort and he'd feel secure knowing that you're there for him.
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