#ada x esme

[crowleying]

My policeman | m!reader

Date: 06.12.2022

Pairing:  Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 4.840

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Esme Shelby, Harry Fenton, others

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Tommy Shelby is suddenly very interested in you and you have no idea why.

A/N: English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistake, and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

You were on patrol around the city with one of your colleagues. You knew he was on the Peaky Blinders' payroll but, after all, only a handful of policemen weren't. You were one of them. It was confusing to most people in Small Heath, mainly because they knew you were John Shelby's best friend. He had offered you money to give them information and turn a blind eye to their affairs as they did with everyone, but you had made it clear that you couldn't be bought. He had respected that. The balance was fragile. The whole deal was based on your friendship. You had been able to refuse the money without losing your job because you were friends and people respected you because of your bond to the most powerful family in Birmingham, and a little because you did your job and wouldn't hesitate to throw people in jail if needed. You didn't pretend not to see what happened around you. Not even if the Peaky Blinders were involved. However, being friends with John also prevented you from trying to tear the whole business down. Everyone had learnt it pretty soon, so they had just started doing their things when you weren't on patrol, which meant your rounds were always quiet. You didn't complain. You didn't like arresting people, especially if they were Blinders.

That day seemed to be especially quiet. Well, as quiet as Small Heath could be. Your eyes observed the people going on about their lives around you while you chatted with your colleague. Many people greeted you, and you smiled back.

You turned to your partner, your eyes wide and a big smile on your face. "What?! No way. What is this, your... seventh?"

"Yeah," he replied smiling proudly under his thick moustache. "Four girls and two boys. I'm rooting for another boy."

"Congrats!" You patted his back, but you saw his face change, suddenly becoming serious.

He looked up and touched his cap, tilting his head down. "Morning, Mr Shelby."

You turned and saw Thomas Shelby on one of his horses, riding down the road. You nodded towards him as a form of greeting but didn't touch your cap or wish him a good day.

He nodded back at you, and you felt his icy blue eyes pierce through you. It wasn't anything new. You felt that way every time he looked at you and you wondered if everyone could feel it when they were under his gaze as if he could see everything that was inside. It felt as if God was scrutinizing you. You did understand why John called him Tommy the Almighty.

Even as he passed by you, you could still feel his eyes burn holes in you. You kept walking but turned to look at him and saw he was already looking. You turned back to the front.

"I don't know how you can refuse their offer. By the way he was looking at you, he really wants you on his payroll."

When you walked into the Garrison that night and asked Harry for a glass of whiskey, he refused your money and said it had already been paid for, then nodded towards the private room next to the counter.

"Yeah, well, John knows it won't happen." You shrugged, but the feeling of his eyes on you lingered and stayed with you for the rest of the day.

"Mr Shelby wishes to speak with you."

You rolled your eyes at the formality John liked to mess with when you were involved and grabbed your glass heading to the room.

"Come on, John, how many tim-" you started as you opened the door only to stop mid-sentence when you met Tommy's icy gaze instead of John's warm and playful one. "Thomas."

He was smoking alone, a glass of whiskey in front of him.

He beckoned you with a motion of his fingers. "Close the door and take a sit."

Your eyebrows raised, unimpressed by how he was treating you like one of his men. Maybe he had forgotten you didn't work for him.

"If you want to buy me, Thomas, you can save it. I'm not on sale," you said without doing any of the things he had asked of you.

He observed you for a few long seconds as if trying to read you. Then he sighed, tearing his gaze away from you and knocking the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you."

When you still didn't move, he turned towards you again. "I promise. Please, come sit with me."

You hid your surprise at hearing him saying the word "please." You didn't think he even knew how to pronounce it for lack of use. You closed the door behind you and took a sit on the other side of the table from him.

You rolled the whiskey in your glass waiting for him to speak. "What did you want to talk about?" you asked when he didn't.

He offered you a cigarette but you refused. You didn't trust him outside family gatherings and that wasn't a social call.

"I would like to invite you to dinner."

You frowned. You had already been to dinner at the Shelbys plenty of times and not once had Thomas himself been the one to invite you. "Uhm... sure, tell Polly to count me in."

"I mean with me."

His reply startled a laugh out of you. "I never thought you were one for pranks. Thought you left that to Johnny."

He stared at you, his expression unchanged. There was no trace of a smile on his face. "I'm serious."

You looked back at him with a newfound seriousness and slammed your glass on the table, spilling some of its content. "I really hope not."

It was your turn to observe him, trying to understand what his real intentions were. "What do you really want from me, Thomas?"

"I want to take you out for dinner."

You snorted. "You think I'm a fool?"

"No," he let out much lower than his usual tone.

"You can't buy me so you're trying to get me arrested. That's too low even for you."

He shook his head. "That's not-"

"Save your bullshit," you interrupted getting up. You leaned forward pointing a finger at him. "You try this shit again and I'll get you arrested."

You were smoking with John by the cut like you did when you were fifteen. You loved the fact that your friendship hadn't changed all that much, not after you had been to war together, nor when you had decided to join the police. With John, it had always been easy. No judgement, just two boys having fun and doing what they had to live in such a hard world.

Then you walked out.

"So, new girls?" he joked.

You looked at him unimpressed, before looking back in front of you.

John was the only person who knew you didn't like girls. You had found out thanks to him. When you were young, you had experimented with each other. There had been some kisses and a couple of hand jobs. He had soon understood he wasn't into men, but he had never judged you. To these days he still joked about it and you had never really minded until Thomas had asked you out.

"Did you tell him?"

He abruptly turned to look at you. "You know I would never."

"Then how the fuck did he know, John?" you asked, throwing your unfinished cigarette into the cut, clearly upset.

"Tommy, he always seems to know shit," he said slowly, playing with his cap and looking down at it in his lap. He looked at you. "But he means good. He isn't trying to fuck you up."

You snorted. You trusted John and you were sure he believed what he was saying, but Thomas was cunning and he could have people believe anything he wanted. Maybe he had tricked his own brother into believing he really was interested in you, knowing he would have put a good word in for him.

"Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow though?"

You had been a guest of the Shelbys every Saturday for dinner for as long as you could remember.

"Will he be there?"

"Probably."

You groaned.

"Come on. You won't even have to talk to him. How many times have you two talked at dinner?"

You frowned. "Probably more than you would expect."

Now that you thought of it, Tommy had always found a way to exchange a few words with you after dinner about the most random topics. You had always enjoyed those moments. Talking with him was nice. He didn't smile a lot, not like before the war, but he had always been kind to you. You had always thought he did that just for John's sake, so you had never considered him a friend or anything. In addition to that, the huge crush you had had on him had made it hard to be as comfortable with him as you were with the rest of the family. You had completely overcome that now, though. Still, the awkwardness was hard to shake off.

John bumped his shoulders into yours, bringing you back to the present. "The kids will be a pain if you don't come."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

When you stepped into the Shelbys' household the following evening, you got surrounded by John's kids. They either hugged you, pulled you somewhere, or screamed at you about their day. You loved them, but they could be a lot. Finally, Ada came to save you, and you smiled gratefully at her. She hugged you and invited you to follow her to the kitchen where all the others were. Tommy was missing, and you felt relief flooding you. You hadn't even finished greeting everyone when the front door opened. Little Finn ran to welcome the newcomer. You held your breath and your eyes found John's on the other side of the room. He looked guilty. You frowned, but before you could take him aside to ask what he had done, Tommy walked into the kitchen with Finn in his arms. When you turned towards him, he was already looking at you and you couldn't bring yourself to utter a word in greeting. Your lips stayed still.

John grinned triumphantly.

"Let's sit and eat," Polly said, setting the pot in the centre of the table.

While she served, everyone took a seat, and somehow you found yourself next to Tommy. John had taken the seat that was usually reserved for you and you had to take his. Now you understood the look you had seen in his eyes earlier. You would punch him later.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it's something." Tommy's murmur was drowned by the others chatting and you would have missed it too if you hadn't been so close to him.

You pretended you hadn't heard and instead thanked Polly for filling your plate.

For the whole dinner, you did everything you could to forget Thomas was there. You chatted with everyone, complimented Polly for her cooking, asked Esme how she could be so patient with all those troublemakers around, glared at John multiple times, joked with the kids, even taking one of them on your lap when he wanted to show you the small gap in his smile left by the tooth he had lost a couple of days earlier.

Tommy stayed silent for the most part, as usual. He commented on a thing here or there and messed with the kids for a little fun. You could always feel his gaze on you. His eyes might have been the colour of ice, but sure as hell, you could feel them burn on your skin. He saw to it so that your glass was never empty, and even if you remembered distinctly rejecting him that day at the Garrison, it seemed like he hadn't gotten the memo, although he had probably just decided to ignore it because Tommy Shelby only ever played by his rules.

After dinner, the children went off somewhere to play while Polly and Esme washed the dishes. Ada had excused herself saying she was tired and she would go to bed early, but you were pretty sure she would climb out of the window to go see Freddy. Arthur took out a bottle of rum and filled four glasses.

"I should go, actually," you announced, getting up.

"No way!"

"Oh come on, you can stay for a nightcap."

John, who was now sitting next to you, pulled on your arm and you sat back down with a sigh. Arthur grinned and a small, pleased smile appeared on Tommy's face. You wanted to slap it away. Instead, you glared at him and grabbed his cigarette case to take one in retaliation. It only caused his smile to grow.

You put the cigarette between your lips and scowled at him when he leaned in touching the end of your cigarette with his to light it up. You hated how your heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to your cheeks. You inhaled and pulled back quickly, missing the looks Arthur and John had exchanged seconds earlier.

You exhaled the smoke and quickly downed your glass, making John snort. You pushed the glass towards Arthur, silently asking for a refill. He chuckled and shook his head but poured you another glass. Tommy was looking at the whole thing with an amused glint in his eyes. Once again you did your best to ignore him.

"Seeing a girl tonight? Is that why you're in a hurry?" Arthur teased.

You felt Tommy tense next to you, but you couldn't be sure and you didn't dare turn to look at him, not wanting to give yourself away.

You waved a hand. "I'm leaving them all to you, Arthur."

That made him laugh. "That's wise."

"You should have it easy now that Johnny is taken," you commented. Then you turned towards Tommy. "What about you, Thomas? I bet you have all the girls falling for you. What is it? Nobody is good enough for the great Thomas Shelby?" you teased.

"You're the only person who calls him that," John commented amusedly.

"And aunt Pol when she's angry," Arthur added.

Tommy stared at you seriously.

When you had given up on waiting for a reply and went to take a sip of your rum, Tommy finally spoke. "I already have my eyes on someone," he said quietly.

You choked on the rum and coughed. John patted your back. "You alright?"

You nodded and pulled at the collar of your shirt, although it didn't really do anything to help your situation. You did your best to compose yourself while Tommy tried to hide a small amused smile behind his cigarette.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" you asked when you finally managed to breathe again.

Arthur's boisterous laugh filled the room. "That would be some change."

Tommy paid him no mind and kept his glacial eyes on you. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Both his reply and Arthur's comment confused you. Before you could inquire further, you heard John's glass clink on the table, soon followed by Arthur's. Your eyes snapped to them as they got up.

"We're headin' to the Garrison. Are you coming?" Arthur asked.

"Uh... no. I should really go. I have work tomorrow."

John patted your back. "See you tomorrow?"

You nodded and they left. The last conversation had made you forget about John's guilty look at the beginning of the night.

You suddenly realized they had left you alone with Tommy. You cleared your throat and put out your cigarette into the ashtray, then downed the rest of your rum.

"I should really go."

You got up, but so did Tommy. He killed his cigarette. "I'll show you to the door."

You nodded stiffly and walked to the door. When you stopped at the hanger to get your coat, you found him closer than expected and your heart picked up.

"You like horses, don't you?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. You hated how cool he was about everything.

You nodded.

"You should come to the races once."

"Have you forgotten I go there for work sometimes?"

"Not for work."

Not again.

"It's not something I enjoy watching," you said shortly, then opened the door, anxious to leave that hallway that had never looked so small in your whole life.

"You might change your mind."

"I don't think I will," you insisted dryly, looking at him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message that you were talking about the whole situation.

You were doing everything you could to avoid Tommy, and it was not working. On the contrary, he was everywhere. He would pass by your house every time you were leaving for work and he would offer to walk or drive you there. You refused every time. You would meet him as you were walking by the cut. You would see him at a pub he had never frequented before. You even saw him at the market a couple of times. When you saw him in church you thought you were hallucinating. It seemed like the universe was working against you, but it was only Tommy Shelby, and maybe his family.

You opened the door and he held it open for you. "It's not a no."

You were surprised to find a little box on your desk at work on Monday. You looked around to see if any of your colleagues had noticed anything. They seemed to be minding their business as usual. You returned your attention to the box and opened it. A precious pocket watch was laid there, with a piece of paper. You picked up the note. You didn't recognize the handwriting. It read "counting the seconds to the moment you'll accept my offer."

John always found a way to mention him. He had never talked about Tommy as much as he had in the last few weeks. You pretended not to notice. You hoped Tommy would just give up at some point. How wrong you were.

You crushed the note in your fist and rolled your eyes, closing the box vehemently and shoving it in the only drawer in your desk that had a key. You locked it up. You thought you would deal with that later, but it was a busy day and you forgot until the next morning when something else was waiting for you on your desk.

It was your favourite book from when you were a kid. It was about horses. They were your favourite animals and obviously, Tommy somehow knew. You opened it and on the first page, with the same handwriting from yesterday's note, there was written "I think you'd really like to meet my horses. Think about it."

That evening you went to the Shelbys, hoping to find Tommy and give him back his presents. When Ada opened the door, you walked past her hastily.

You heard one of your colleagues calling you, so you quickly closed the book and threw it into the drawer where you had left the watch.

"Where is Thomas?" you asked looking for him around the house, startling the others, confused by your manners so out of character.

"He isn't back yet," Ada said, closing the door to follow you into the kitchen.

You let yourself fall down into a chair with a groan and discarded your hat on the table.

"Hello to you too," Polly piped up.

"Hi Pol, I'm sorry, but your nephew is trying to ruin me."

"Tommy?" Esme asked frowning. She wasn't a fan of him, but she was quite sure he would never do anything to ruin you.

"What are you talking about?" Polly asked taking a seat next to you.

"He is just being over dramatic." John waved a hand. You glared at him.

"Let him talk." Ada slapped his arm, making him roll his eyes. "What did Tommy do?"

You suddenly sobered up. You couldn't tell them. They wouldn't approve. You shook your head and got up. "It's nothing. I should just talk to him. I'm sure we can fix this."

"Where are you going? Stay for dinner." Polly stopped you gently.

Before you could refuse and leave, someone knocked.

Ada went to open the door.

"Hello, Ada." Thomas.

Ada was already telling him you were there looking for him when you walked up to him, hat in hand. He smiled smugly at you.

"Thought you would last longer," he commented.

You just looked at him as if you wanted to kill him.

Ada's eyes moved between the two of you.

"Would you mind leaving us, Ada?" Tommy asked, without taking his eyes away from you.

She rolled her eyes but did as she had been asked.

Once she was gone, you pulled the gifts out of your coat and shoved them into Tommy's chest. "You can take these back and leave me alone."

His hand raised slowly to take a hold of the items and he glanced down at them. "You didn't like them?"

"That's not the point. Stop fucking trying to ruin me. If I'm such a huge problem for you, why don't you pay my superior to transfer me somewhere else? Do you really hate me so much just because I'm not on your fucking payroll?"

He shook his head. "I'm not trying to ruin you."

"Really? Because sending me gifts at work tells me otherwise."

"I really am into you."

You scoffed. "Sure."

"What do I have to do to make you believe me?" his voice, quiet as usual, seemed to fill the entire house. Only then you realized the chatter that previously came from the kitchen had stopped. You glanced that way, then looked back at Tommy.

You lowered your voice. "If you care for me, stop this."

For the first time since you knew him, Tommy looked like he didn't know what to say.

You didn't wait for a reply. You just headed to the door, stopping in your tracks when Polly's voice came from the kitchen. "You're not staying for dinner?"

It was clear the others had listened in on your conversation.

You sighed. "Maybe next time."

You opened the door and stepped outside, putting your hat on.

Polly's interjection had given Tommy enough time to come up with something to say.

"Just give me one chance," he said quickly before you could leave. "We can go out of the city with the horses tomorrow afternoon. Nobody will see us. If after that you still want me to leave you alone, I will."

You turned to look at him and you hated yourself for being so weak.

The following day was nerve-wracking. No matter how you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about the date. The anxiety was eating at you. Part of you didn't want that afternoon to arrive, and another part was looking forward to it.

"One chance. Then you will leave me alone."

Time would not stop flowing for your sake, and soon you were making your way to meet with him out of the city. You asked the driver to drop you off way before the meeting point and walked the rest of the way.

Tommy was waiting for you with two horses. He smiled when he saw you, and you didn't know if it was knowing that this was the last chance you had given him or if that was actually the most genuine and happiest smile you had ever seen on his lips.

You smiled back. It was a very different smile from his. It was small and it had a hint of sadness to it. You wished this was real, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.

Without a word you got on the horses and guided them through the countryside. Sometimes Tommy would stop to show you something. He told you about his love for the countryside and that he would love to live there one day. He liked the idea of being surrounded by green fields and animals, especially horses, a passion the two of you shared. When you asked why he was so in love with the countryside, he explained that it made him feel closer to his mother. That was where her people lived and where she had grown up.

You hadn't realized, but at some point, you had relaxed. You and Tommy talked, joked, laughed and raced each other. Before you noticed the sun was setting. Tommy suggested you stopped to enjoy the view before heading back.

You got off the horses and sat down on the grass. You stayed silent for a while, simply admiring the colours of the sky. When you turned to look at Tommy, he was already watching you. You stared at each other for a few long moments before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"What's the verdict, then?" he finally asked, not looking at you.

"I had a good time with you," you admitted easily.

"But?"

"Is this really what you want? This life is... not great. So if you ever liked a girl in your life I suggest you go back to her and give it one more try."

"It's always been you and I know you are scared, but I sincerely don't give a fuck if you are a policeman or if you aren't on my payroll. We made arrangements to do our things when you're not on patrol just so you wouldn't have to arrest any of us. It wasn't much trouble. You are important to me, to all of us. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Your brain had gotten stuck on the first few words. "Always?"

"What?"

"You said it's always been me."

"Yes."

"Then why now?"

"Because I found out only recently that you like boys."

You frowned. "How did you find out?"

"I saw you with a man one night, in the alley behind the Garrison," he admitted.

"Oh... Right. So John didn't tell you."

"No, not a word. He would rather cut his own arm off than betray you."

"I know," you replied relaxing.

"But you thought he had told me."

"Maybe he had mentioned when he was drunk." You shrugged.

"I promise he didn't."

You nodded.

"I've had a crush on you for a while too," you said, still looking at him. You had long forgotten about the sunset. How could you look at something as trivial as the sun when you had Tommy Shelby right beside you?

"Yes?" he asked, hopeful.

You smiled and nodded. "It's impossible not falling for you."

He leaned closer but stopped a few inches away from your face. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"Fucking finally Tommy, dinner was getting cold," Polly's voice came from the kitchen as you followed him inside the house that night.

"What are you waiting for, then?" was all that came out of your lips before they met his.

"Sorry Pol," he replied taking little Finn in his arms and putting his cap on his youngest brother.

He reached for your hand with his free one after you had hung your coat. You took it, although nervously. He had assured you that his whole family knew about him and that they would accept you but after a lifetime of being careful about everything you did and said, you couldn't just stop.

Tommy kissed your temple, hoping that would help your nerves.

You smiled at him, then winked at Finn who grinned back.

Tommy led you to the kitchen. "We have a guest," he announced. Everyone turned to look at you, and your grip tightened on Tommy's hand. They all seemed surprised.

"But it's not S-" Arthur was cut off by John shoving his elbow into his brother's ribs.

That seemed enough to shake Polly out of her surprise. "Of course!" She hugged you smiling. "You're always welcome."

You felt your nervousness melt away and hugged her back. "Thanks, Pol."

She pulled back and turned to her nephew, pointing a finger at him. "If you hurt him, Thomas Shelby, I'll make you pay for it."

"What?! Why are you telling me?" he asked putting Finn down.

"Well, because he would never do anything bad," she replied without even thinking about it.

"Wait, aunt Pol. He is my best friend, I should be the one to give Tommy the talk."

Tommy shook his head. "This is absurd."

"Come on, I'm sure he is more than capable to look after himself."

You nodded quickly, agreeing with Ada.

"And I'm sure Tommy won't do anything he might regret unless he wants to have the whole family against him," she added crossing her arms and glaring at him.

You sighed and turned to look at Tommy. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from them."

Tags: @one-green-frog

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  Following your encounter with the Shelby family, you try to get accepted but you have no idea how. This is why Ada comes out with a good idea: organizing a tea party in the garden. You accept, hoping things will get better between you and Arthur's family... But it does not go as planned.

featuring John x Platonic!OCReader

Words: 4.3k

TW: Foul language but hey, that's about Peaky Blinders, witchcraft ??

Notes:

✞ This chapter is longer than what I attended to do, so unfortunately I could not follow the poll's result. Hence, here is a quieter chapter but nonetheless tinted with a bit of angst. Moreover, the three next chapters are going to be quite violent and intense so consider this the calm before the storm.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

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“I don’t like the kids being around her.” 

“Come on Esme, she’s not going to eat ‘em eh.” Arthur brought the cup of tea to his mouth and drank it, its sweet flavor melting on his tongue.    It was a necessary and momentary relief, which kept him from yelling at his sister-in-law for what she had just said about his sweetheart. She had not stopped making snarky remarks from the day he introduced you to the family. Somehow, it was not about hatred or personal resentment, but rather about fear: she was sincerely scared of you.

After meeting the Shelbys for the first time, you were left utterly confused and did not know what to do. That was when Ada’s idea popped up. She had helped you organize a small tea party in the garden of the house Arthur had brought for you, in order to have a cozy family gathering.  Then, John grew fond of the idea. These two surely had adored you as soon as their eyes had fallen on your angelic face. Following the invitations you had sent, Esme and Polly agreed to come to the event even if they did not trust you. More superstitious than the rest of the family, they were genuinely anxious when you were nearby — but family was family, and they did it for Arthur. Concerning Michael and Finn, they were too busy playing tough boys in Small Heath to bother sipping on a cup of tea in a flower garden. And regarding Thomas… Of course, he would not come. His refusal had been quite obvious following your disastrous encounter with little King Shelby, even though he pretended to be far too busy with work to come. His manners were on point, at least when he was not insulting you and grabbing you by the throat. Admittedly, you had been disappointed in the boys’ lack of commitment but you did not let it show. People still came, you thought.

“What if she brings evil spirits upon them?” She insisted, her dark eyes staring at you as if you would kill her children if she dared to shift her eyes from you for one second. Annoyed with her disrespectful claim, Arthur rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly through his nose.

“Listen, girl,” He put back his cup on the table a bit more bluntly than he intended to, “if you keep saying dumb shits in my bloody house I’ll kick ya out. Heaven invited ya and y’all talk shit in her back tsk… Damn ungrateful women.”  

Esme opened her mouth to say something but she closed it straight away for Polly had rested her hand on her arm to keep her from doing so.   The last thing they needed was a quarrel. She finally sighed, admitting her defeat. Then, she went on observing you playing with her four children alongside her husband, John.

“At least she’s not filling your mind with stupid Christian things. “ Polly said, stirring her tea with a little silver spoon. She was observing the liquid with great attention, looking for any sign of poison or suspicious ingredient. Somehow, she feared you had served her some kind of magical potion.  Witnessing this circus of a conversation, Ada closed her book and frowned.

“This is ridiculous. You should stop judging her because of stupid rumors. She’s no witch… 

 Heaven is a delightful woman, clever and polite. Far away from that bitch Linda.” She paused to look at each of the faces around the table, “And if she is, well… She might as well fly on a broom and turn people into frogs I would not mind. I’ve never seen Arthur that happy before, and that’s all that matters.” She argued, her voice filled with determination and her tone highlighted with her natural fury. The Shelby sister sure was a wild and entitled woman.

“Thanks, Ada,” Arthur looked at her with sincere gratitude. He was starting to get tired of the two women’s nonsense and constant judgmental behavior toward his lover. His steel blue eyes abandoned his guests and fell on your graceful body — not interested in anyone but you. Bewitched by the sight, Arthur’s traits relaxed as he observed you running behind Katie in an attempt to catch her, with your dolly face enlightened with a smile so beaming even the sun was green with envy. His heartbeat quickened in his ribcage as seconds passed — the more he stared at you, the more the world around him vanished: you had the gift of making him forget everything. Your wild ivory mane floated at the wind’s discretion, along with the overhanging fabric of the Greek-inspired white dress you were wearing. How he loved to see you covered with the beautiful dresses, fur coats, and jewels he kept buying for you — nothing was too precious nor expensive for his angel. 

“You can’t catch me, Heaven!”

“You think so, Katie? I’m coming for you!”

Esme and John’s children had adored you from the minute you met. They seemed to have adopted you into the family, judging by their blooming smiles and their joyful laughter each time you would catch them in your arms. A sudden comforting wave of warmth overcame Arthur’s heart. Seeing you playing with kids definitely did something to him. He tried not to let it show, for you were younger than him and he did not want to put any pressure on your shoulders, but he had always wanted a family. For years he had seen his siblings being blessed with the joy of love and children, to the point he had wondered if his time would come or if he was deemed to live off prostitutes, drugs, and bland momentarily reliefs. Yet the more he watched you with children, the less he could keep domestic thoughts from flooding his brain. How deeply he wanted to put a ring around your finger to make you officially his, and fill your belly with a child. His child. But the truth was he still doubted you truly wanted him, his insecurities whispering to his ear that you’ll wake up one day and see the monster he was. He already could barely believe you wanted to see him every day. Let alone the surprise of you agreeing to live with him, by his side.

“Shit Arthur, it’s getting serious.” Ada teased, smiling behind her cup of tea at his brother’s blissed out expression, “She did cast a spell on you.”  

“Oh fook off, Ada. Don’t say that, Polly and Esme are going to believe it.”  And he was right, for the two women were now watching Ada with pure terror on their faces, which only made her burst into laughter. 

John grabbed you by the wrist, gently forcing you to stop running. You turned around and pout, visibly unhappy of your poor performance.

“Gotcha, little Angel,” He said, one brow raised and his beautiful lips stretching in a wide, cunning smile from which a toothpick was hanging, “Following the rules, you’re excluded from the game.“  

“That’s unfair. You cannot hide in a bush and bounce on me, John. This is cheating.” You retorted, pretending to be outraged, but the smirk etched on the corner of your charming lips left no doubt about your amusement. 

“I’m a Shelby. Of course I cheat.” 

“That’s such a lame excuse,” You said, your sentence punctuated by a  thunder of complaints that rose when the kids noticed you had stopped chasing them. All the four Shelby children wished was to keep playing with you, but John wanted to take advantage of this moment to enjoy your company without the protective presence of Arthur towering over him, “And I think the whole team disagrees with your decision.” You added, shrugging, with a false innocent expression on your face, which gave you a bratty look more than anything else. Gosh, John thought, you were a hell of a woman… 

“Oi herd, why don’t you play together for a while so that Dad and Heaven can talk eh?” 

Another wave of protest, but the focus of the little crowd was soon diverted by a small white bird that had just landed on the handmade birdhouse near them. The children decided they did not want to play Tag Your It anymore, but rather chose to observe the bird from the closest spot as possible. So was kids’ ability to focus, as flickering and ephemeral as a moth. John freed your wrist as they moved away and winked at you. Then, he pulled a  silvery cigarette case out of his pants pocket. He gave you one and proceeded to light it up politely. You leaned over his hands until the tip of your cigarette brushed the flame  — John’s sky-blue eyes looked at you during the whole moment, his iris shining with a playful gleam. To be honest, he was probably the nicest Shelby of the family, Arthur not included. At least, he was always absolutely caring for you and would never forget to pull you in a bear hug each time you met. Hugs so tight, so comfy that you could almost feel the shattered piece of your heart brought back together. John Shelby had spent countless hours helping you move to your new house, refusing to let you carry heavy furniture and stuff. More than being helpful, he fancied the moments you both spent together. That was why he would sometimes keep you company and teach you some tricks with his personal deck of cards when Arthur was busy working for their boss-brother. In exchange, you would mend his torn shirts after a fight and offer him shelter whenever he and Esme had a heated argument.

“How’s going with Arthur?” He asked, his tongue playing with his toothpick. You let out a cloud of smoke from your juicy lips.

“This is going so well, I can’t believe it. Your brother is so soft, so caring… He’s an Angel.”

“Soft? Caring? Are we really talking about Arthur?” He chuckled, “I mean he used to throw Michael out of the window when he was just a kid.”

“Well, you were there to catch him though. Pretty sure no one did when Arthur would throw you out of that same window. You must have hit your head against the concrete more than once.”  You raised a brow, your teeth digging into your cigarette as your smirk widened. Blown away by your quick wit, John shook his head.

“What the hell, I don’t know why Arthur calls you angel. You’re a fucking devil,” He said to tease you. Yet the soft traits of his baby face turned into a more serious expression, “So yer really happy with him?  I’m asking because he loves you so much that he would not stand losing you. Hell, he talks about you every fucking minute!” 

“Does he?” You said with a softer note in your voice before glancing at Arthur. Your aquamarine eyes met his, for he had not stopped staring at you. Blood rushed to your cheeks, “I’m truly blessed, John. Arthur is — he is unique you know? I can’t find words powerful enough in any language to describe my feelings for him. But trust me, I am a lucky woman. “  

Domestic life with Arthur Shelby had a surprising taste of blissful paradise. Obviously, it had its ups and downs, for the path to healing was always a long and somehow troubled one, but you knew what you were stepping into the first time you met — his face was splattered with blood after all. You had been aware of the scorching fits of rage and his past troubles with addictions right from the start. He also told you about the nightmares that would wake him up at night, screaming and panting, and that time he cheated on Linda and cried doing so. Yet, he had promised you to do his best to tame his demons — and when he said “best” he did not lie. Whether covered in blood or not, he often came home right after work, wanting to spend his time with you rather than doing anything else. When he did not it was simply because he was drinking with his brothers. And even wasted, at the edge of the abyss he was so familiar with, he never touched another woman — No matter John’s behaviors and Tommy’s pressure. How could he when the fairest creature of this bloody world was waiting for him at home? Moreover, sex with you outperformed everything he had experienced before. Arthur knew that having you by his side was a miracle, and he was determined not to sabotage it. Because you were everything he needed to survive, and what he had craved all his bastard’s life. Sometimes he would wake up at night, afraid you had been just a dream, and when he would realize you really existed he would pull you in his arms and watch you sleep peacefully, his fingers caressing your porcelain skin until he dozed off. Yes, Arthur Shelby was the most loving and loyal man you ever had. 

Maybe that was what made the moments he snapped even more terrifying. But you weren’t scared, for Arthur never laid a finger on you and would never do it. In fact, he was never mad at you, but rather at himself. Or at the rest of the world. But not you — how could he? 

He was simply terrified of hurting you. Sometimes he touched you so lightly, afraid to break you… And when his spirits heated and he squeezed you a bit too fiercely, all you had to do was gently remind him to relax and his embrace would loosen.

“But tell me John. Are you really interested in Arthur’s well-being or is it because you’d miss me if I leave?”  You joked, taking another puff of your cigarette and shifting your gaze to him. You expected a roast in return but all he gave you was a strange silence. Your smile slowly faded away at his pensive face, the oceans in his eyes lost in thought.

“Yeah,” He said, a bit embarrassed. John swallowed, then, after a brief moment of hesitation, he gently pressed one of his big soft hands on your shoulder in a tender sign of affection, “I’d miss you. I really like you Heaven.  You’re good for Arthur. You know when he goes back home after work it’s because he really wants to. Because he misses you so deeply he physically aches. Plus, I really love spending time with you,” He rubbed his nose with the back of his free hand in a nervous reflex, his handsome eyes fleeing yours,  “And I’m deeply sorry for my wife’s behavior.” 

“Ah,” You waved the topic off, “That’s okay,” 

“ Oi! That makes more room for me eh!” He blurted out, an irritating yet adorable playful grin plastered on his face. 

“Oh Gosh, what an idiot you are!” You slapped him behind the head, which made him laugh even more, “you have such a punchable face!” 

“That’s what my brothers always say, little angel. Find a better roast next time.”

“What do we always say, dumbass?” A hoarse voice asked. Two strong and large hands grabbed you by the waist. Arthur had left the women, who had a heated discussion about politics, for he grew already frustrated not to be with you. His familiar perfume made all your muscles relax as if your instinct linked his presence with undeniable safety — which was the case. To be true, Arthur was not only loving, he was clingy. Adorably clingy. From the day you met  — to probably the day death do you part— he constantly felt a deep-rooted need to touch you. On the one hand, he wanted your attention, on the other, he could not get enough of your affection.  You let out a soft and amused snort, and you raised one arm to slip your hand in his hair. You almost hear him purr at your touch, his lips against your ear.

“His face is punchable, don’t you think so?”

“Fook yes, it is! It really is.” 

“Two against me?! Now who’s the one cheat—“   John could not finish his sentence for he was cut off by the children’s screams.  The three of you rushed to the small pack as one to check what had just happened. 

When you reached their level, you saw all the children encircling something, their heads down and their eyes looking at one specific spot somewhere in the grass. 

“The hell’s wrong with ya kiddos? Ain’t no reason to scream like that!” Arthur complained, his gravel voice tainted with fading worries now that he realized all the kids were safe and sound. 

“The bird! It’s the bird, uncle Arthur!” Cried a little boy.

“Dad, dad! What’s wrong with the bird?” Katie asked. 

When you came closer, you realized that the children were circling the same bird that had landed on the birdhouse fifteen minutes ago. The poor creature was laying in a bed of green grass, as petrified as a statue. Its small beady eyes were glassy, utterly lifeless. It did not take more than one second for you to understand that it was probably dead.

“That bird’s bloody dead.” Arthur stated. Maybe tactfulness was not his best quality. 

“What?! Is it?!” The children spoke as one. A  terrified expression veiled their round faces at their uncle’s harsh words. 

“Good job Arthur.” John replied, visibly annoyed by the situation.

A soft breeze made the bird’s pale feathers dance in front of your eyes. How come this creature, which was joyfully whistling not so long ago, had stopped living all of sudden? The futility of life would never cease to amaze you… The fact remains that you had to do something, whether it was for John’s children or for the animal itself. Without the slightest word, you kneeled in the grass. Its comforting caress on your skin sent a shiver down your spine and reminded you how you loved taking naps in the forest when you were a kid, back in France. You forced your mind to focus on your task and finally cupped the bird’s body in your cold hands.

“Don’t touch it, love.” Arthur told you. The gravel in his voice was coated with softness and care: he did not want you to catch a disease or something.

“It’s alright.” You answered, absentminded, before standing up on your feet. Your brows slightly furrowed as you observed the dead creature in your hands. There was something about dead birds — something in the way their small black eyes were always wide open as if they had frozen at the sight of Death’s face right before it struck them with its lethal kiss. 

Arthur, as well as the rest of the Shelby family, looked at you in confusion. They did not comprehend what you wanted to do with the corpse. You took a quick glance at John’s children and offered them a soft smile, then you looked back at the bird, “You know,” you started, your voice sweet and enchanting, “my mom used to tell me that some birds only have one love during their life,” Your words stirred up curiosity among the young ones, whose faces turned from fear to vivid interest, “they can die from a broken heart. Just like some humans.”

“This is sad. I don’t want the bird to have a broken heart.” One little boy with feckless said.

“It’s true. That’s a sad fact. But … If you give it a bit of love and a lot of hope…” Pausing your sentence, you closed your eyes for one short moment and exhaled loudly. Doing so, you raised your arms with closed hands facing the clear blue sky, “Maybe you can repair what has been broken.”  And as you concluded, your sweet words and soft voice hypnotizing your audience, you opened your hands:  against all odds and natural laws, the white bird twitched and, all of sudden, flew away in panic as the witching hour struck. White feathers lazily spin to the ground, carried away by the wind and the melody of flapping wings. A peaceful grin grazed your full lips at such a magnificent sound, “See?” You finally said, reopening your Bambi lashes and turning towards the mesmerized kids that were now cheering. However, that dazzling smile of yours quickly faded away at the sight of Esme, Polly, and Ada’s bewildered faces — they had witnessed everything.

“What the bloody hell was that?” John’s voice was merely a whisper. You had resurrected a damn bird. In front of them. No trick, no ruse. You had brought a fucking bird back to fucking life.

You looked at Arthur with a tint of anxiety in your eyes, not understanding if you did something wrong, but all he did was stare at the bird’s silhouette up in the sky with his cold blue eyes.

“Fookin’ hell…” 

He could not believe it either.

When Esme had grabbed her children, panic on her face, and left the house slamming the car’s door, you had felt utterly disappointed in yourself.  Here we go, you thought, they are all going to hate me. And Arthur’s going to leave. You thought, still standing in the alley with your eyes fixed upon the horizon where she had disappeared. The horror with which she had looked at you was haunting you — were you that monstrous? You blinked and remembered you were not alone. John, Ada, Polly, and Arthur were still there, probably ready to flee too. Your heart ached at the thought, to the point you did not dare move for fear of facing them.

“Angel.” Arthur’s voice called with such a soft and delicate tone no one would have recognized it. You finally turned around slowly, jaw clenched and eyes looking at your feet.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Arthur.” That was all you could say, apologies falling from your quivering lips each time you would part then to speak. 

“Hey. Stop that.” He said, a bit more strictly,  yet he gently cupped your face with his two rough hands at the same time. The sensation of his warm skin against yours managed to bring back peace in your tormented soul.

“Don’t mind her — Yer fucking perfect. Yes, you are, and I don’t want ya to think you’re not.” 

“I should not have done that. Maybe that wasn’t what you thought, maybe the bird was just playing dead and…”  

“I love ya and I’m not gonna leave if that’s what yer scared of. That’s okay, love.” He said, pressing his forehead against yours in that so specific habit of his, “Just don't cry please, I hate to see you cry.” Lavishing you with sweetness, Arthur left little reassuring pecks on your lips for it was the only thing he could do to keep the tears away from your eyes.

How much he hated to see you in pain.  It made him want to bend the skies and raise hell. Made him want to destroy everything that had hurt you. 

Fortunately for him, your hard heart did not let you shred a single tear. You felt wounded and frustrated, simple as that.

“Don’t worry, Mon amour.” You finally say, taking a deep breath.  You were about to give him a little smile, eyes lost in Arthur’s blue iris when Polly literally pushed him away from you with quite a surprising strength. She had snatched your man from your arms with such fierceness that you stood still, eyes wide open, unable to move.

“HELL, POL’! BLOODY FOOKIN’ FAMILY!” Now he was yelling — roaring like a wounded and enraged lion. 

“Shut up Arthur!” She snapped back without looking at him, before grabbing your shoulders with her two frail hands. You were once again astounded by her strength now that she was holding you firmly. 

At such a sight, Arthur’s protective instincts kicked in. He was about to place himself in front of you to face Polly Gray, within an inch of tackling his own Aunt, when John and Ada grasped each one of his arms to hold him back. 

“You have brought it to life, haven’t you?” She questioned, her brows slightly furrowed and her brown eyes trying to probe the meanders of your soul. It was more than enough for you, who came to the edge of your patience. You exhaled slowly and swallowed.

“Why do you want to know? Gonna hang me high? Gonna burn me?!” 

“DON’T TOUCH HER!” Arthur roared in the background.

“You did it!” She blurted out.

You did not reply, rather leaving her to draw her own conclusions.

“You did it.” She repeated with a surprisingly softer voice. 

And everything changed. 

Her face. The spark in her eyes. Her whole attitude. Polly’s hands loosened their grip but remain on your shoulders. The coldness of her face melted in a brief proud smile, whose rarity rendered it even more inestimable. Polly’s mouth opened to say something but it took a little while, for she was still trying to find the right words. And when she did, she said something to you in Romani. Something you could not understand, even though the tone of this unknown language sounded beautifully in your ears. The meaning behind her words remained a mystery — all you knew was that what she said had surprised Arthur and John, who were both now looking at their Aunt with lips slightly opened. Confused, your gaze shifted to Ada — and contrary to her brothers, a magnificent smile was adorning her face.

Polly gave your shoulders a last gentle squeeze before releasing you from her embrace and pointing Arthur out.

“You better keep this one.” She simply stated, then she headed back to the garden. 

You blinked, still utterly confused by Polly’s behavior, “what did she say?” You turned to the three Shelby siblings but especially asked Arthur. However, he struggled to produce a proper answer. He opened his mouth but Ada cut him off right before he could speak.

“Miracle.” She stated.

“She said you’re a miracle.” 

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.

Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alones but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interested: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid @shelbyssins (tagging u honey because it’s bby Arthur)

[cosmic-crybaby]

Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby

Chapter 18: 'Like Real People Do'

Warnings: Mentions of blood, childbirth, last chapter

Masterlist:

---

Months had passed since your relationship with Thomas Shelby had come to an end.

You had someone by your side with every step of the way. Now just a few weeks away from your predicted due date, Ada, Polly, and Esme were there to help you when you needed them. Even Alfie and John had stopped by a few times when you needed them to. But the Shelby women were there through it all. Esme had made an effort to be with you almost every day, even while she was expecting her first child herself.

Esme also kept Thomas' name to a minimum when it came to conversations with you, although she had wished she could gossip about the recent things he had done. Your mind had drifted back to him from time to time, wondering what he had gotten himself into now or how he was doing in that big mansion all alone. You stayed strong and refrained from reaching out to him for your own sanity.

Esme wore she would never give Tommy any kind of update on how you were doing, but Polly and Ada gave him some peace of mind after answering his burning and persistent questions.

“She’s doing just fine,” 

“Her and the baby are healthy,” 

“Yes, she’s still working,” 

But that was the extent of it all.

Tommy really had no idea how you were really doing, and even though you wanted to keep it that way, he still refrained from stopping by your bakery, or sending a peaky boy or two to keep watch on you and the kids. An extra measure to make sure you were safe. He knew you were smart, and would have spotted them right away, but again part of him wished that was the case so you could talk to him again.

But it was better this way, it kept him up at night, thinking you were all alone now. He stayed awake at night with the regret of ever hurting you and jeopardizing your relationship. The one night with Lizzie Stark caused his heart to shatter every night he went without you in his arms.

You, on the other hand, continued to care for your two children and work on your own for the most part, even if you slowed down the further you grew into your pregnancy. You eventually gave into Esme’s request to help you out when the days got busy or when you simply needed to rest. 

Tonight was Henry’s first orchestra concert. You were adamant on attending, no matter what. You sat in the front row with Elizabeth in the middle between you and her Aunt Esme. Watching him on stage along with the other kids of all ages. You gushed to Esme about how cute he looked in his suit, but went silent as they began to play. Listening to the beautiful symphony of classical music. You proudly gazed up at him on the stage as he focused on the sheet music and the movements of the bow on the strings. It was times like this where you were thankful that Thomas paid for violin lessons so he could perfect his skills on time for the show. Your smile dropped as you felt a sharp cramp to your side, inhaling quickly. Your hand quickly flew to your stomach for a moment until the pain quickly subsided. You managed to sit through the concert in uncomfortable silence, not wanting to miss a second of Henry’s performance. You shift in your seat as you take slow and deep breaths while rubbing your side to calm down. 

Once the curtains close and everyone applauds, you turn to Elizabeth. 

“Why don't you meet your brother backstage when he’s done?” You asked her. 

“Okay mum,” She nods, watching her stand from her seat and skip off to the side of the stage. Esme looked over at you, worried.

“What’s wrong, love?” She asked, moving to sit in Elizabeth's empty seat. You groan a bit, attempting to stand up but sit back down with a shocked gasp. You feel around your dress, as the clear liquid spilled down to your knees and into the floor. 

"I-I think my water just broke," 

You knew your due date was nearing quickly but you didn’t think the baby would come this early. Esme rushes to help you stand, grabbing your arm as you hissed at the aching pain in your back. 

“Come on love, not much time now,” She guides you to stand up. Just as you pass the stage, Elizabeth and Henry walk out. Henry held his violin case as he looked at you. You halt your steps. 

"Oh, you did amazing sweetheart," You smiled at him as he gave you a tight hug. 

"Thanks mum," As he let you go, you reached out for their hands. You glanced at Esme as she nods once to make a call to John.

"Okay, listen..." You paused, taking a deep breath. "We will drop you off at Aunt Adas and then we will come pick you up in the morning when-" 

"Rather than staying with their own father?" A strong voice said from behind. 

"Dad!" The two shouted happily as they ran to him and hugged him tightly. 

"Alfie?" You stood up straight with a groan. After he greeted the kids he approached you.

“No way in hell you’re gonna let my kids be watched over by a Shelby,” 

"Alfie I-”

" Right, I will be taking them for the night, I insist…" He dismissively told you. 

"You really never miss their performances," You told him quietly with a small smile. 

"Of course not, I fuckin' love my family," Even past his burley exterior, you could still see the love in his eyes.

"Mum?" Elizabeth looked up at you. You glance down at her. 

"Right! We'll get you in the morning when the baby gets here. okay?" 

Their eyes brightened up. 

"Okay mum," They said. You slightly bend down to pull them into hug them and give them quick kisses on their cheeks. 

"Stay safe, mum" Henry whispered in your ear. You nodded. 

"I love you, I will see you in the morning," You handed your children off to their father. Just then Esme had returned, rushing to your side.

"Thank you, Alfie," You smiled at him, wanting to just reach to hold his hand, but Esme grabbed your hand first after seeing the sweat beading on your forehead. 

"(Y/n)," She whispered. 

"I wish you well (Y/n), may God protect you, Love...stay safe," 

That was the first time you had seen him show real concern for you in a very long time. 

"Love, the car's here we've got to go," Esme rushed.

In the car, Esme sat in the backseat with you, helping you breathe through the sudden increase of pain as John drove like a madman back to your flat. As planned, you had arrived home and John helped you out of the car and into your bedroom. Esme was quick to call Polly and had her rushed over, since she was the only person you had trusted to help you deliver the baby and she lived only a few streets away. As you sat on the bed, hunched over and panting, John rubbed your back. Even though he had seen this many times before and witnessed the birth of his many kids and siblings, he still felt anxious for you as his hands shook.

"(Y/n) Polly is on her way but we need to get you ready," Esme hurried into the room, holding clean sheets and a large, thin night dress. She had ushered John out of the room, sending him to gather blankets, towels, and water. She helped you undress and put on your nightgown as you finally were able to catch your breath for just a minute before the cramping started up again, this time a loud cry erupting from your throat as you gripped onto the bed sheets. 

"Fucking Christ!" You shouted.

"You're doing great love just keep breathing," Esme calmed you, trying to keep your breathing regulated. She moved your hair out of your face as it stuck to your face the more you began to sweat. 

"Esme, it hurts! I can't do this!" You cried. 

"Yes you can! Just hold on, Polly's almost here," She comforted you. You whine as John entered the room, bringing the things Esme ordered. 

"She's here," 

It was like everything was a huge blur, you had no idea what was going on until Polly greeted you. Hasty, and trying to stay calm as she ordered John to get more water. 

"(Y/n), you've got a fever, you need to stay awake so we can get the baby out, okay?" She spoke clearly. You tiredly nodded. She helped you onto the bed, sitting up as she rubbed your back gently. In the midst of your next contraction you held Esme's hand tightly as Polly checked your dilatation. 

"You'll need to start pushing soon okay?" Polly asked, standing up to wash her hands and grab the pile of linens and towels.

"N-No, I can't, it hurts," You cried, your words coming out like slurs and your eyelids getting heavier. 

"Shit, John! Where is the fuckin' water?!" Polly shouted. The room began to spin as everyone in the room began shouting and yelling at each other. You couldn't comprehend what was happening. Not until you heard him call your name. 

"He just turned up, I couldn't tell him to leave, Aunt Pol he has every right to be here!" John argued. 

"I don't give a shit, he's hurt her in more ways than one and right now she needs help not a fucking reminder of the man who put her in this situation!" She argued. 

"She doesn't even want to hear your name, what makes you think she wants you here?!" Esme spit. 

"(Y/n)," He called. "I need to see her, please," He begged as he tried to push past Polly. She glared at him, refusing to let him through. 

"Only if she agrees," She noted. 

"She's delusional, she can barely speak!" Esme shouted. 

"Tommy?" You mumbled. A whimper left your throat as you looked towards the door. A moment of silence filled the room as he was let in, much to Polly and Esme's dismay. Thomas stood by you and held your hand as you looked at him with a dazed look in your eyes. Your face was pale, your pupils wide, as the sweat drips down your temples and neck.

"Hi love...I'm here now, I'm here for you," He nodded. 

"Polly-" You quickly turned away from Thomas as you called for his aunt. She walked to the bed once again, lifting the sheet to check your dilatation. With a focused face she ordered Esme to help. 

"Give her water, try to keep her cool because this baby is coming now," She hurried. Drinking the water quickly and shutting your eyes as you felt the need to push. 

"You're doing great, (Y/n) just keep breathing," Esme encouraged you as she dabbed your forehead with a damp towel. You nod once as you try to focus on your breathing. The impending pain made you open your eyes as you frantically reached for Esme's hand. Esme held you close, looking up at Thomas to step up and do the same. He was almost frozen in his place as he stared at her.

"Tommy," You called for him again, holding your hand out as he tightly squeezed. You cried out in pain

"It'll be okay, keep going," He looked at you with wide eyes. 

"Fuck!" You cursed loudly as you threw your head back. 

"Almost there (y/n) almost there! One more!" Polly affirmed. It seemed like everything had gone by within the blink of an eye. One last push and one last cry from you and it was all over. The pain became numb as your legs trembled. The warmth of the blood drenched your sheets as Polly gasps in relief. Far too exhausted to lift yourself up to get a proper look at the little bundle as Polly cleaned them up. Your vision begins to double as you sink back into the pillows. The muffled sound of Esme and Tommy calling your name was almost deafened when you heard the coos and crying of the baby. You felt your eyes get heavier and heavier as the sweat and heat began to get too much for you. And with that, you were out. The room was worried for you. Trying to wake you up but the fever, the pain, and the blood loss had all hit you at once. 

That summer, Elizabeth and Henry were sitting on an old blanket on the grassy hills under the trees. The very same spot Thomas had taken them, chasing the ducks and flying paper airplanes over a year ago. The sun was warm and bright as the birds sang and the children laughed. A basket full of food and sweets sat beside them, Henry was restraining himself from sneaking a taste of the apple dumplings. You had approached behind them, the small baby in your arms as you set the small bag of necessities for the baby on the grass before you sat down. 

"Can we take Evelyn to look at the ducks, mum?" Elizabeth asked, the baby cooed and giggled as she grasped onto your fingers. 

"Yeah, let's go before Aunt Esme arrives," You nod as you stand up, and approach the small pond. She was still small, but her chubby hands grasped at the water, giggling as the little gold fish scattered whenever she wiggled her fingers. You chuckled as Elizabeth and Henry fed bread to the ducks, screaming and laughing as the ducks quacked and chased them around if they held the bread for too long. 

"(Y/n)!" Esme had called. You stood up, looking at the top of the hill, holding your hand over your brow to shade your eyes from the sun. She waved happily, the baby in her arms bundled close to her chest. John's kids greeted Henry and Elizabeth before they gathered to run about the hill. The two of you sat on the blanket, watching the kids kick a ball around, their laughs were carried with the wind. Behind you, in the car, John stood. Smoking a cigarette. 

"You alright, brother?" John turned to his older brother. Thomas leaned against the car. You didn't know he was there, and he didn't want to be known. He held the cigarette in his mouth as his hands were shoved in his pockets. He heavily sighs. 

"Yeah..." He mumbled. He hoped to get a glimpse of your new life. You looked happy, laughing with Esme as you held the baby by the hands as she took wobbly steps. The small glance he got at her, in her bright blue eyes. She looked just like a perfect combination of the both of you. It ached him that he had to keep his distance when all he wanted was to be next to you, holding the babe in his arms just as you were now. 

"Why don't you go talk to her?" John asked. He didn't completely understand why Thomas couldn't just man up and talk to you again. But it was more complicated than that. 

"I can't John," 

"Why not? Tom, you were meant to be, just give it a try," 

The days after Evelyn was born, Thomas tried to reignite that spark in you. And as much as it saddened you, you declined.  Your heart wanted you to go back to him, but every other part of you didn’t want to get hurt again. It just wasn't going to work. The amount of times he had hurt you was just too much to overlook the times he cherished you.

"Perhaps meant to be just wasn't for us, John..." 

You picked Evelyn up, lifting her up in your arms before bringing her down to give her a kiss. She squeals as you do it again and again. 

"That's bullshit," John muttered, flicking the end of his burnt out cigarette onto the gravel road. Thomas only took his hand out of his pocket to do the same. Shaking his head, swallowing thickly as he felt the lump in his throat grow the more he watched you. 

And you smiled, maybe not at him, but after all this time you still smiled, so he smiled too. He quickly looks down, licking his lips before pushing himself off of the car. 

"Let's go," He mumbled as he got into the driver's side. He gave you one last glance. Evelyn looked at you before turning her head to Thomas. Locking eyes with him. It was like he lost his breath at just how beautiful she was. Making him think, just how could someone as cold and deadly as himself make something so warm and beautiful. 

"What are you looking at, love?" You asked Evelyn, she looked at you then back to the road. Pointing a chubby finger in that direction. Confusion washed over your face as you looked over your shoulder. You both stared at each other, doing and saying nothing until you lifted your hand to give him a small wave, as a comforting smile formed on your face. Thomas returned the gesture before driving off. Your eyes followed the car until you couldn't see it anymore. 

"You still love him, don't you?" Esme calmly asked. You looked down, swallowing a bit before silently nodding. 

"That's okay...You made the right choice," She scooted closer to you, putting a comforting hand over yours. You nod again, your breath shuttering as you look up. The golden sun casting a glow on your skin as you wiped your tears. 

"We were always made for each other, just never made to last,"

---

This was the final chapter of 'Blue Skies' I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I have another Tommy Shelby story in the works that will be posted soon! In the mean time if you would like a bonus chapter with Tommy x (yn) or Alfie x (yn), feel free to let me know.

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[mindful-of-ideas]

Hot Summer Days

Peaky Blinders One Shot

Summary: At the end of the summer, Thomas decides it's time for the family to go on a well-deserved beach vacation. While you only work for him, you wound up getting invited.

A/N: I tried to leave this open in regards to pairing, hopefully it worked but maybe it feels like everyone is flirting with you. Also, this was supposed to be an imagine but you wouldn’t believe how hard it is to find the proper gif sometimes.

It came to you as a surprise when you heard that the Shelby family was planning a trip to the beach. Sure, you knew they could use the break and deserve some time away from the city, especially Finn, but that they would acknowledge that was surprising. Almost unsettling if you were being honest.

If something suspicious was looming under this trip, you had to make sure no one was going to get hurt.

Not physically, of course, but emotionally. This had slowly became your job ever since you got hired by Thomas Shelby himself. Officially, you were his secretary. Making sure papers were in order, reminding him of official and officious meetings, seeing that the boys weren’t too rowdy in the betting shop. Just your average secretary job. Things changed when it became apparent that you needed a desk and the only place available was near the entrance of the betting shop. Now, your job included greeting everyone as they came in. Slowly, you picked up on their habits. Arthur was not to be talked to before he had his coffee. Thomas would always greet you but only nod in your direction if something was on his mind. John would always take the time to talk to you. Finn would stop running up and down the shop if you took the time to ask him what he learned today. Ada only popped by when she needed something from Thomas or when she was sad and needed someone to listen to her. Esme, even if she would never admit it, always gushed over all of John's kids. Arthur takes his coffee black but with one sugar; it’s nicer on his stomach he says.

So if this trip the the beach was just a cover-up for something bigger, something nastier, you had to know. Otherwise, life could become unbearable at the betting shop.

You barely had a foot in the door when a loud voice yapped at you.

“Y/N, my office,” said Thomas sternly, “Now.”

The room had gone quiet. You quickly glanced at John but he looked as confused as you did. Could Thomas have known about what you were planning on asking him? Could he take offence to that? Maybe you got too eager, put your nose where you shouldn’t have? Could he even fire you for that? You couldn’t afford to lose this job. You couldn’t afford to get fired by the Shelbys out of all people.

You stepped into Thomas’ office shaking, your palms sweating.

“Please, sit down,” Thomas said gesturing to the chair facing him across his desk.

You did, maybe a little bit too slowly. You stared at your shoes, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Y/N, is everything okay? You look pale.”

If there was genuine worry in his voice, you couldn’t hear it over the buzzing that was now in your ears.

“I’m… I’m fine…” you finally said, “Just a bit tired I guess…”

“That’s perfect then,” he said clapping his hands together and making you jump, “Not that you are tired of course, that’s not what I meant… I…”

Now hearing his hesitation, you looked up. Thomas seemed uncomfortable. He was slowly scratching the back of his head, looking down, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“I meant… I was planning on taking everyone, the whole family, away on a vacation. To the beach as you may have heard. And I real vacation I might add. Just the sun, the waves, and… what I mean is… would you come with us?”

With his question, he looked up at you but your gaze had gone back to the floor.

“Y/N?” he asked quite firmly.

You looked up again.

“That’s better,” he said, “Now, will you come?”

But you were too stoned to say anything. Not only the vacation plan was real but you could go with them as well.

“It’s just that, you know, Finn really seems to like you,” Thomas started, “And so does Ada and Esme… it would be really nice if you could make it…“

Was he trying to convince you?

“… can get a word out of Arthur before noon. And with John, you’re just…”

“Yes!” you blurted out before he could finish, “I’ll be there!”

“Great!” he said smiling at you, “We leave tomorrow morning. Be here at 6:30 sharp.”

He gestured towards the door, inviting you to leave before getting back to his work.

As you got out of the office, you couldn’t help but smile. Yes, you were thrilled to get the time off and to go out with people you might just start calling friends, but mostly you were happy to know that your work had not gone unnoticed. But you barely had time to enjoy the moment. You could only take a few steps towards your desk before feeling a hard slap on your back. You turned around, a bit angry only to see a beaming Arthur.

“Moving up the ladder I see,” he said excitedly, “Next thing you know you’ll be part of the family! I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he added more quietly.

As soon as the day was over, you rushed home. 6:30 a.m. was early. Way too early. You still had to find clothes and your swimsuit. You hoped it still fit you. Living in Birmingham, there are not many opportunities to go to the beach. The last time you saw the ocean was probably well over ten years ago. You were still a child back then. But your mother had always told you to be ready for anything, so a few years back, after seeing that it was on sale, you bought a swimsuit. Just in case. Just in case you got invited by Thomas fucking Shelby to go to the beach with his family. In what world could something like this happen.

This one apparently. And your mother would tell you to seize the day and not look back. You grab the only bag big enough to fit all your things. Swimsuit, check. Towel, check. Sunglasses, check. Sandals, check. Hat, check. You went down your list until everything was in your bag. In the end, it was much and the bag closed easily. It was already past midnight when you finally laid on your bed and went to sleep.

At 6:30 a.m. sharp, the cars left for the ocean. You ended up squeezed between an overexcited Finn and a less-than-happy Arthur. It was way too early for him.

The ride wasn’t too long, just a little over two hours. As soon as you got out of the car, you were met with a whirling wind. Your hair danced crazily in front of your eyes. With one hand holding your bag you struggled to keep it under control.

“Here,” said Esme, “give your bag to John, I’ll help you.”

Still half blind, you lifted up your bag in front of you, hoping that this was where John was.

“Now,” said Esme raking her hands through your hair, “let me take care of this for you.”

Gently, she combed your hair back and started braiding it. A few strands from the front of your head escaped and started dancing in the wind again.

“You tell me if I hurt you,” she said. But you couldn’t hear a thing over the wind that has now picked up again.

“What!” you said hoping to be loud enough.

She leaned in closer to you.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” she whispered gently in your ear.

You nodded slightly, not wanting to move too much and ruin your hair. A few moments later, she was done. You felt the cold wind on your neck before Esme wrapped her arm around it.

“Let’s go find the boys now!” she said before forcing you down the sandy hills and towards the beach.

When you got there, Thomas and John were already laying blankets under beach umbrellas while Arthur was still struggling to put his up. You knew asking him if he needed help was a bad idea but you had no other choice.

“Need a hand,” you asked gently.

He was struggling with keeping the umbrella at the right angle while hammering it down for it to stay in place. He grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear but took as a ‘yes’. You got to your knees and grabbed the umbrella with both hands. Arthur inclined it properly before hammering down a rock on its top. It took a few hits but it eventually was deep enough in the sand for it to hold in place.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, “You’ll wanna sit with me?”

“Sure,” you said grinning.

You placed down your towel by his before grabbing your bag again.

“Does anyone know where we can get changed?” you asked, mostly looking towards Ada and Esme.

“There’s a hut right by there,” Thomas answered first, vaguely pointing behind him towards yet more sandy hills.

“I guess I’ll have to figure it out myself,” you mumbled passing right by him.

And you did. Not far from where you had settled, there were a dozen of brightly coloured cabins all lined up neatly by a boardwalk. You quickly changed, keeping on an oversized shirt to cover your shoulder from the sun. It used to be your dad and went down to your mid-thigh. After a quick glance at yourself, you decided it was best to leave the last few buttons open. It looked better, but mostly it felt more comfortable.

You walked back down to the beach, your arms interlaced with Ada and Esme’s. Even from far away, you could see the boys running on the beach. What they were running for was however unclear.

“Are they…?” you started, not sure how to finish your question.

“Playing football?” Ada completed, “Yes! It’s been such a long time since I played with them too, come on!”

With that, she started running, dragging Esme and you behind her. Quickly, the teams were changed as you ended up facing Thomas, John and Esme. Your team was losing. Badly. Something about being too aggressive and not having enough strategy. As Ada and Arthur blocked the other team, you managed to get ahold of the ball. Without missing a beat, you ran up your makeshift field. As you were about to kick the ball, and hopefully score, John came out of nowhere, trying to steal it from you. You struggled to push him back, unknowingly drifting towards the water.

“It’s over Y/N!” roared John.

“Unless…” you started while trying to outsmart him.

You kicked the ball in between John’s legs and took a step forward trying to get control of it. But John stepped forward too, making you tumble backwards. Next thing you knew, you were in the water, John over you.

“Oh shit, sorry,” said John quickly getting up and offering you a hand.

“It’s… it’s okay,” you said between two coughs.

He pulled you up with a little bit more strength than you expected. You stumbled forward, catching yourself on John’s chest.

“Woah, easy there,” he said taking your hand and his.

“Sorry…” you said feeling the red rise to your cheeks.

“I’m messing with you, come on!” he said gently pushing the ball towards you.

Quickly, you took the ball back and sprinted towards the goal, scoring. The game went on, the score tied. As you tried to get in one last goal, you and Finn kicked the ball at the same time, sending it flying away.

“I’ll get it,” you both said at the same time, sprinting towards the ball.

The ball came to a stop in front of three tall men, all dressed in black suits.

“So sorry to have disturbed you,” you said politely, “We’ll just get the ball back…”

But one of the men put his feet on it before picking it up from the ground.

“Look, we don’t want any trouble…” you said now more quietly feeling that the situation was escaping your control.

“And what can someone as pretty as you give me in exchange for the ball?” the man asked stepping towards you.

You stepped back, but Finn stepped in front of you.

“Kid, move out the way,” the man said, pushing Finn to the side.

Finn struggled to keep his balance but came right back by your side.

“Now, come on,” the man went on, “I’m sure you can think of something.”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” Finn whispered in your ear, “If they get too close, I’ll fight them off.”

You had trouble believing him after what you had just witnessed, but the thought was still comforting.

“You know what,” the man said, “Maybe I’ll just take what I want.”

He dropped the ball and made his way up to you. Finn grasped your hand and you held it as tight as you could. Before you could even will your body to run away, a loud voice snapped at the man.

“Don’t take another step,” Thomas said from behind you.

The man stopped dead in his tracks. He hesitated for a moment and then started laughing.

“Oh, come on man. I’ll let you have a turn after if that’s what you want.”

You looked over your shoulder. Thomas looked serious, dead serious, but you could tell there was a point of anger in him.

“Finn, get a move on,” he said walking towards you.

Finn went running back to his family. Thomas wrapped an arm around your shoulder, making you realize that you were shivering.

“Now,” Thomas said calmly, “you have two choices. Either you turn around and leave this beach, or you take another step forward and I make sure you, your friends and your whole family can never see the sun again.”

“Mate, come on! We were just having some fun,” the man said still smiling.

Somehow, that creeped you out even more and made you want to disappear from that man’s sight. You made yourself as small as possible against Thomas.

“Mate…” the man said now hesitating as Thomas’s face was still serious.

“Have you heard of the Peaky Blinders?” Thomas asked slowly.

But before you knew it, the men had turned away and were gone.

“You’re okay Y/N?” Thomas asked, looking down at you.

“Yeah… yeah I think I’m fine.”

“Let’s get back to the others,” he said.

“Y-yes.”

He kept his arm wrapped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly grasping your shirt sleeve.

The rest of the day went by quietly. Before you knew it, it was time to leave and go back to gloomy Birmingham.

“Can we get like ten more minutes?” Ada asked Thomas.

“No,” he answered simply.

“Five then,” she pleaded, “I promise, just five more minutes.”

“Fine,” Thomas finally agreed.

“Y/N, with me,” she ordered as she ran up the beach.

You were back by the boardwalk, but Ada made you turn away from the rainbow cabins this time. After just a few steps, you understood why she had brought you here. Ice cream.

“We’ll take two vanilla, two chocolate and one strawberry,” she said, “and it’s my treat,” she added before you could even say anything.

“Wha- well thanks,” you said slightly embarrassed.

As the vendor started handing the ice creams to her, she stuffed two in your hands.

“Yours and mine,” she said.

“Strawberry,” you said smiling, “you remembered.”

“Of course I did!” she said, “Now let’s go before they melt.

Giggling you made your way back down the hill. This truly had been the most amazing summer day.

[tommyxgrace-always]

Peaky women appreciation post

Here’s to these gorgeous and strong women…

First up- the one and only Queen. My fav, she made Tommy alive again. She was his rock, his light, his hope and everything right in his life. The badass Spy turned Saviour for orphaned children of Birmingham.

May- I loved the class and calmness she brought, she was a good companion for Tommy. Her heart was in the right place and she was a good person but more importantly she was also dignified and strong. She clearly had feelings for Tommy in s4, yet she chose to be practical and listen to her mind. In the end it was the right decision.

Tatiana- She is too much to handle. She was crazy and smart in equal parts. Even gorgeous and toxic in equal parts, she was better off far away from Tommy though. I liked her in my second watch!!

Jessie- Passionate about her cause, not afraid to stand up to Tommy Shelby, a woman on a mission👏

Another Queen- this Shelby sister was always vocal about her feelings, did everything on her own terms. Became Tommy’s rock when he trusted no on else. He needed her for both matters of heart and business.

The other Mrs Shelbys- Special mention to these two. I liked Esme in s2 until they ruined her character and made her a cribber. She was not afraid to give opinions and fight for what she wanted. Linda was annoying but I never hated her. She really did try to help Arthur, he needed her. She held her own as a much as she could but I was glad the way she stood up and said enough is enough.

*******

This one doesn’t make it to my Gorgeous Strong women list!! Seriously what the fuck was she thinking when she was trying to bring Angel to Tommy and Grace’s wedding?!?! She was just jealous and probably wanted Tommy’s attention by not following orders and pissing him off. But she ended up messing up everyone’s lives😡 “i fucked your husband…”😵‍💫😵‍💫 ewwww

[chaosinkest1996]

Masterlist

Lilith Rose Shelby Peaky Blinders

Pre-Series 1

First Blood

First Kiss

Series 6

Jealous Man

Post Series 6

In The Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby (and Jack Nelson)

[amidst-wonderland]

[kingdom come]

pairing: nora + michael warnings: mentions of smoking, strong language, violence, substance abuse summary: michael didn't hate thomas for the events of the year prior, at least not as much as his wife wanted him to.

december, eighteenth

nineteen-twenty-six

     “christ,” she curses, spotting the man clad in black strolling up towards her from the driveway. “whit’d you want?”

     “my accountant’s office is empty–“

     “–try the papers, you’ll find someone desperate enough.“

     “nora,” he scolds.

     she’d hated the inevitability of a moment like this.

     the air was bitter – although, the clear sky above painted a largely different picture, an uninterrupted blanket of blue. the usual wintertime clouds were oddly out of sight, but far from out of mind.

     nora’d considered the outcome of this interaction quite a bit in the past handful of months. she’d thought of a rather aggressive reaction that involved a swift swing with some few choice words for the wretched in-law who’d decided it would be appropriate come anywhere near her family once again. she didn’t particularly enjoy the passive route, wouldn’t really send a warning the reaper’s way any more than a simple ‘fuck off’ would’ve but michael’d find it easier to side with.

     feeling the harsher cold blows against her skin, she crosses her arms slipping a small hiss. the knitted throw wasn’t enough to trap the heat, despite her boiling rage at the well-dressed man who stood before her.

     thomas hadn’t changed since she’d last seen him – poised in his everyday attire three-piece that consisted of fabrics only appropriate for funeral attendance.

     ‘bastard’s buried enough people’

     “listen, love.” he sighs, although there’s a sinister tension within the breath. “i’m trying to help you here, help the kids–“

     “–michael had a rope around his fucking neck, because of you.”

     his jaw clenches, thomas wasn’t looking for a fight.

     “go find michael, bring ‘im out ‘ere,” he motioned to the front door she’d been blocking. “saves you waking up the little ones.”

     “aye so ah will,” she snorts. “get oot ma sight shelby.”

     thomas resides for a moment, unsure of how to approach the hand he’d been dealt whilst taking in the new surroundings. it was strange and unfamiliar, the overwhelming hit of salty-air was quite nauseating. loud waves crashing below heightened cliffs, boisterous kids playing football on sand a handful of yards from the gray home.

     their cobblestoned cottage was picturesque – a far cry from arrow house – something you’d find on a postcard.

     he was getting considerably more from nora than from either of his brother’s wives – who didn’t even pick up the telephone. although, he didn’t bother to ring michael, just showed up at their door but he was growing impatient with this one.

     “nora if you don’t move, i’ll fucking make you.”

     “oi!”

     her feet cemented themselves in place, legs stiffening under thomas’ icy gaze and the warmth radiating off her husband cutting into the cold draft he’d brought opening their door.

     michael slips past nora, before tossing his snout into the gravel beneath them.

     thomas sneered at the sight of his younger cousin’s dishevelled appearance – fitted suits, dark eyes, and styled hair merely a distant memory, instead replaced with loose locks and his crumped pinstriped shirt that hung from his body as did his suspenders.

     he looked like shit, and probably smelt like it too.

     “come to beg for forgiveness?”

     thomas pursed his lips, ignoring the jab. “shelby company limited needs you michael. this legitamate business can’t–“

     “-whit’d ah jist tell you?” nora interjects pushing past her husband, the softer melted demeanour he’d arose standing between them, now dissipated.

     nora’s childishly feral attitude was far from a rare occurrence that thomas knew michael would generally diffuse for the benefit of the family, but a year separated he wasn’t entirely sure where his loyalties lay.

     “nonie”

     nora felt her heart sink, michael only called her–

     “yer ‘hinkin aboot it, in’t ye? i swear, if you get in that motor.”

     “just,” he pauses, gently pulling her towards him with slight wobble. “go back inside.”

     noting the moment of insecurity, thomas takes a dig at the couple. “michael, you really ought to think about sorting out that missus of yours.”

     he scowls at his cousin.

     “michael, look at me.”

     he couldn’t, he tried desperately not to. “nonie, please don’t start.”

     nora grips his arms, feeling her nails forcefully digging into his skin through the thin material in hopes to keep him from thomas, who he was yet to take his eyes off.

     she knew the prospect of returning to civilisation had always been enticing. strolling around busy cities, pints after work with isaiah and socialising with birmingham’s brightest without begrudgingly waking up to the same hysterical children every morning. wondering when he’d get his next hit, if ever.

     the band around his finger had already began weighing on him and settling down permanently had never been part of the plan, even after their son was born but polly insisted and michael struggled to say no.

     the stinging sensation in his biceps tear him from this thoughts as he looks to his wife.

     her heart ached, she could see it in him – he was spiralling, desperate to return with the despicable man standing before them, willing to give up everything they’d built together over the past year.

     he tries to shrug her off, to no avail but she reaches out to hold his face frantically caressing his rosy cheeks with her thumb, pushing back his tousled hair, and rambling sweet nothings, refusing to let tears fall.

     “y-you can’t go, ah canny lose you. no again.”

     he wasn’t listening, he was still peaking over the man clad in black.

     thomas pipes up, “pol’s in a bad way.”

     giving another attempt to get his full attention she presses her forehead to his, forcing him to see nothing but her. “whit if he’s too late? ah couldnae–“

     abrupt burning tears begin forming, sliding down her cheeks. “that isnae yer family. george, rosalin, me–“

     “–nonie, what about mum?“

     she ignores his protest, “family does’nae leave you to rot in a cell, does’nae ditch ye at death’s door.”

     “i know.” he reassures, resting his hands on hair waist, despite it feeling like an flat gesture. “but i can’t keep doing this, running from our problems isn’t what we do.”

     there was some vile sense of truth in his words, even nora could begrudgingly admit that. their marriage had begun cannibalising itself, one massacred bite after the other – every snort, scream and smash, it would take them down eventually but at the very least, out here they were no longer the shelby’s public display of misguided youth.

     “michael.” thomas interrupts, “i’ll be in the car.”

     the couple listen to him shuffle back to the bentley, nora flinching at the harsh slam of the door.

     hesitantly, nora’s grip on her husband loosens as she wipes a few tears away dreading the awaited judgement call. they stood close, nora’s ragged breath hitting at the bare skin where michael hadn’t buttoned his shirt.

     she’d done all she could, but his heart was set.

     “please–“

     “ –i’ll ring john to come get you and the kids if you’re not ready to drive.”

     the tightness in her chest quickly becomes suffocating, her blotchy cheeks return the burning sensation of minutes ago feeling like stretched leather against hot tears.

     she released a choked sob, hitting against his chest. “y-you promised.”

     noting her weakened frame, michael tightly pulls his wife back into him keeping her knees from buckling. “nonie,” he soothes into the crook of her neck as nora’s chest erratically fluxes against his. “a little space, it’ll be good for us, good for george and rosie to stop hearing us fight all the time.”

     nora jolts back from his grasp, disgusted.

     “stop it,” she cried. “stop treating me like a wean you can jist ‘shoo’ away whenever ye want tae take the easy way oot. an don’t you dare pretend this has ‘onything tae dae with them because if it wis, you would’nae even ‘hink aboot entertaining that rat-bastard.”

     “nora–“ he reaches for her.

     “–don’t,” she growls, “don’t fucking touch me.”

     “everything alright?”

     michael sleepily peers up from the tumbler of whisky he’d been swirling, noticing his older cousin standing in the ajar of his darkened office.

     “can’t say i’m a stranger to a picture like this and somehow i don’t think you are either.”

     he shrugs at thomas’ pathetic attempt at casual small talk once pushing back the glass, falling back into his chair. “office, pub, home – what’s it fucking matter?”

     “i’m not paying you to get pissed.”

     michael runs a hand through his now slicked back hair, unsure if his cousin had made an appearance simply to pick his brain or to make sure the pistol in his side drawer hadn’t been used to blow his brains out after a week without his co-dependant other-half.

     “it might not feel like it now, but you made the right decision. letting that girl of yours run amuck, she’s not–“

     “–tommy.” michael scorns, “i’m here with you, let’s just leave it at that, yeah?”

     the twenty-two-year-old knew neither his wife nor his cousin would ever see eye-to-eye. even before they wed, the older shelby brothers had made crude passing comments over drinks about the then teenage nora being a ‘belligerent fucking nuisance’ and an ‘unintelligible delinquent.’

     still, if thomas was so sure he’d made the right choice, then why didn’t it feel like it? why could he still hear his son’s cries ringing at the back of his mind like a broken record, all-the-fucking-time.

     thomas tips his head, strolling over to his cousin’s desk. he scowling at the mess then grabs the half-drunk bottle before michael could protest. “get that cleared by eight,” he waves to the unkept stack of documents. “give your missus a ring, then you can have the grouse back.”

     “cheers.”

     the shelby gives a final nod of acknowledgement, exiting the office.

     ‘give your missus a ring’ michael couldn’t help but scoff at the hollow instruction. he’d attempted to contact nora almost every day since he’d left their home on the coast usually ending up with a less than enthusiastic esme berating him for returning to the dragon’s keep and how she’d been up all night dealing with rosie’s colic.

     michael missed nora, he missed her so fucking much. he missed her tender touch when they’d wake up bare and entangled in one another as the sun shined through the sheer beige curtains highlighting her soft features. he missed her angelic voice or even the way she smelled after bathing one of the kids in sink – honey, on the odd occasion lavender. he especially missed just holding her close as she buried her head into his chest, knowing that there was always someone at home who truly cared about him.

     “–don’t think i didn’t fucking notice the snow.”

     the younger boy grimaces at the disgruntled call from down the vacant hallway, glancing down at the streaked powder stained across his desk, swiping at it.

     “you marry a man, bare both his weans, only fur him to run straight in-tae the arms of the same arsehole that sent him to hang.” nora groans taking a final sniff from the vial she'd nipped from michael's bedside drawer.

     laid back against the headboard atop the spare bed she’d been offered, she relaxed in to the plush maroon quilt. enjoying the small pleasure of a clean sheet without having to worry about aging stains from their children’s more messy nights. the kids couldn’t take all the blame though, the biggest mark on their mattress was michael’s doing – half a bottle of rum when they’d gotten a little too tipsy on esme’s birthday.

     beginning to feel lightheaded, she glimpses over to her son playing with his toy train rolling it back and fourth, “what’d you think georgie? is yer daddy a bit of a numpty?”

     the two-year-old blissfully ignores her as he whooshes the wooden train into the air.

     even with the curtains open, the room is a somber, cosy darkness the only source of light coming from a sole lit candle on the bedside table – more of a tactical choice on nora’s behalf as her husband nicked her own lighter.

     there’s some small movement as she feels her daughter shift. rosalin wasn’t used to her mother’s body temperature, which was significantly cooler than michael’s, who she claimed as her bed whenever the pair couldn’t get her to settle in the nursey.

     since the shelby’s only had one spare cot, it left nora tossing and turning, very aware that it wasn’t her husband resting next to her in the bed but in fact her baby boy.

     leaving her home last friday had been a horrifying wake-up call. esme had found nora curled-up on the kitchen floor, passed out with a limp bloodied hand curled around an open bottle of gin as george – who’d been crying himself – ran his tiny fingers through his mum’s hair.

     michael had no idea the mess he’d left her in.

     esme had been a blessing, taking on nora’s two on top of her own six – she was lucky to have her.

     the two had been close since they were their own kids age, their families regularly communing throughout their youth until the mcleod’s settled in glasgow’s east-end permanently.

     “mammy, ‘ook,” george giggles showing her the magic train, with its little doors open and half-chewed roof.

     weakly, she smiles at him, ruffling his golden hair before giving him a light ‘bop’ on the nose.

     there’s some soft knocking at the door, a quiet voice echoing into the bedroom, “aunt nora, can i come in?”

     nora chuckled at the politeness of john’s daughter, considering how long she’d known him – shamefully believing his boisterous behaviour would’ve rubbed-off on her. “’mon in hen.”

     katie scuffles into the room, esme following suit.

     “we wanted to see the cousins before bed, if that’s alright?”

     nora nods to the ten-year-old who’s making her way to sit opposite george.

     “how’s your hand?” esme asks, peaking down at her half-hearted attempt to bandage her the injury

     “nippy, but all’ll live. ah’m fuckin’ knackered though.”

     esme heads round to the other side of the bed, climbing under the duvet next to her friend.

     katie coos george, joining him with the train-game, but he’s more interested in tugging on her vibrant red hair that mirror’s his mother’s.

     “he his’nae called again, has he?”

     “not yet.”

     “dae you think he’ll stop?”

     “doubt it, not for that pungent guilt of his still lingering.”

     “did ye tell him aboot ma haun?”

     sensing nora’s regret, esme cautiously shook her head.

     “did john?”

     “…he did.”

     a hollow weight begins pressing into nora’s chest, a sense of suffering shame encapsulating her respiratory panic.

     “aunt nora?”

     she exhales deeply, smiling in brief recovery, “mmh?”

     “can i do your hair for christmas, esme won’t let me touch her’s.”

     “aye hen, that’d be lovely.”

     “just,” he laments, “tell her i love her.”

     ada shelby reluctantly hums in agreement, watching michael meticulously fiddling with the small weapon in his hand.

     he’d called her down to the cut. it was a nice, slower change of pace being able to escape his omnipresent boss and get some much-needed fresh air. although ada had a niggling feeling the choice of scenery had more to do with nora herself, than thomas.

     “anything else?”

     “only this,” he responds locking in the pistol’s cylinder, offering it to his cousin now that it was reloaded.

     ada takes the gun from him, carefully sliding it into the leather handbag.

     “give that to nora, yeah? don’t want her touching john’s kit ‘ve seen the state of it.”

     “has the poor girl even touched one of these?”

     there’s an amused smirk hidden on michael’s lips. “handful of times, an awful fucking shot – told me she’d be more useful battering someone with the blunt end.”

     ‘nae time tae ‘hink aboot where the bullets goin’ when ah can make it bash their heid in faster.’ he remembers nora whinging when she couldn’t pelt the cans.

     pursing her lips she glances back at him, now opening his cigarette tin and lighting a smoke with a lighter that had a rather feminine touch. “early christmas gift, is it?”

     michael notices her motion to the lighter.

     it’s a delicate little thing, detailed too but had noticeable age. the reflective silver covered in various scratches, fingerprint marks and minute rust. michael rolls his thumb over nora’s favourite detail – the encrusted ruby gemstone that mirrored the one on her wedding ring, rimmed with white diamonds.

     “nora’s. she’d have my neck if she knew i’d nicked it.” he admitted, “but its like having a piece of her with me.”

     ada rolls her eyes. michael’s honesty was pretentious horseshit as far as she was concerned, since it was coming from a man solely exacerbating his own problems.

     “having a cig down the cut isn’t going to make you feel enlightened michael. we’re all guilty of it – john, me, christ even tom. just a whiff from this place and we’ve all got that nagging sense of nostalgia that wishes to wallow in self-pity and reminisce about hormonal teenage activities.”

     michael smiles softly, “mum wouldn’t let me in on family meetings for ages. found other ways to entertain myself, which just happened to involved esme’s mate.”

     the cousins share a chuckle, before the mood returns. “you should be there michael, it’s christmas for pete’s sake! you’ve got two kids–“

     “tommy needs me ada – mum too. heading into the new year it’s all hands-on to push the legitmate–“

     “–my brother doesn’t need you michael, he wants everyone within earshot and you’re his sacrificial lamb benefiting from the cause. have a think, why reach out to his twenty-something cousin over his own brothers? there’s a reason he’s not gone to their doors.”

     “and you?”

     “learned to keep my distance. same fucking reason i didn’t sit behind bars repenting whilst my wife was at home, up the spout.”

     “listen, they’re safe outside the city, being in small heath only creates targets on their back, i appreciate your input but it’s none of your business.“

     “tom tells me you’re back on the snow michael? i won’t judge–“

     michael snorts at his ada’s disposition. “–that’s a half-arsed lie if i’ve heard one.”

     ‘even nora could do better than that and she struggled to hide cutting back the sugar in my tea.’

     “fine.” she huffs, “but don’t take this out on your kids alright? thank christ your missus has managed to sort herself out–“

     he lets out a venomous laugh this time, “that’s what she told you? fuck ada. never considered you having a piss-poor tolerance for bullshit – nora couldn’t tell her right tit from her left by teatime and at least she’s still coherent. give it a few hours and she’ll be passed out on that fucking beach until rosie screams loud enough for her mother to give a shit.”

     ada braces herself, the penny had dropped.

     this wasn’t about shelby company, tommy, hell it wasn’t even about polly’s sickness.

     “why the fuck do you think i sent her to john’s? terrified one night she’ll get further than the sand. twelve-times i’ve had to go out, find her kicking-off like a fucking entranced lunatic.”

     grief had become a fickle presence for the family, they’d all being fighting their own battles, but it appeared the gray’s had been losing theirs.

     “can’t stand the sight of each-other, reckon esme would sort her out.”

     she looks back at michael, throwing the snout into the water below and running a hand over his face for a refresh.

     “i needed a break, tommy granted me that.”

     “does he know?”

     “of course he fucking knows.”

     “how’s linda then arthur?” she warmly enquires, fidgeting in the seat whilst clumsily gripping at the telephone. which is followed by some positive mumbling about his wife.

     “an the wean?”

     arthur lets out an extended groan, “billy’s been crying non-stop for the past three months, every hour on the fucking hour.”

     she smiles empathetically, not that he could see.

     “had the same problem efter george was born and rosalin’s goin through it tae. ma said a wee bit of whisky on the gums never hurt anybody.”

     “heard that’s becoming a solution of a lot of your problem’s ain’t it?”

     “ach, you know how it goes” she shrugs, holding back a hurt chuckle. “point being, bit oan ‘is gums and that’ll see the wee-yin well”

     “linda won’t let me smoke near the lad, never mind giving him the scot’s bloody finest.”

     “wisnae that gud. ma had tae swally a boattle an a haulf afore ‘her arse wis in the air.”

     there’s a warm laugh from him. “love,” he teased. “it’s coming oot again.”

     nora can’t help but cringe at how unnatural her native language sounds coming from the englishman, though easily shrugging it off in her current intoxicated state.

     “aye mebbe. mebbe ah’ve been following in ma maw’s footsteps – marrying some arsehole that canny staun the slight ae his ain faimly, so she’s left drinkin’ tae she won awa efter poppin’ oot sum greetin’ faced weans.”

     arthur frowned, slowly trying to follow her words as they roll rapidly off her tongue.

     it wasn’t like nora to complain nor even discuss her upbringing around the shelby’s, especially not directly to them. passing comments and speculative teases between esme and nora at family gatherings weren’t unfamiliar but it never dove deeper than that.

     what arthur could remember, it seemed far removed from the anecdote nora was sprouting.

     something was off, and it wasn’t linda’s cooking.

     “how many ‘ave you had.”

     “ach only the two, but ah ‘hink it’ll be enough.”

     “i meant drinks.”

     nora takes a moment before the gas induced lump in her throat dissolves, “five-ish.”

     “and this doesn’t have anything to do with your michael being back in big-boys’s office?”

     she sheepishly looks down at her bare toes, wriggling them in a small delight. mentally rehearsing each word she’s about to say, “ach naw, it’s christmas and we’ve all had a very difficult year. a wee few drams didnae hurt a soul.”

     “love the last time you ‘ad a ‘wee few drams’ you shouted fucking ‘gardyloo’ every-time you went to take a piss.”

     “i wis only making folk aware they would be withoot ma presence.”

     arthur smiles.

     “well ah’ll let ye go, ‘hink that’s oor dinner oot noo anyway.”

     “hello lovely!” ada beams as nora opens the shelby’s front door. her eyes squinting trying to ignore the bright sun hitting against her like a hammer to a nail.

     ada takes the young girl into her arms, tightly squeezing her but recoiling as the pungent smell of alcohol burns at her nostrils.

     taking in the ginger’s appearance she notes some rather alarming features since the pair last met. bloodshot eyes and some red rashes, most likely from rubbing. though ada raises a brow at some faded bruising resting on nora’s collarbone, she picks on an injury far more sinister. “what the fuck happened to your hand?”

     giving her a stern glance, nora turns on her heel, making her way in the opposite direction.

     john and esme had already popped down to the local market trying to collect some last-minute supplies for their christmas dinner which left nora, ada and eight rambunctious children running wild.

     heading deeper into the home with her in-law hot on her tail, she travelled straight to the downstairs sitting room before shoving on the cardigan esme had left out for her.

     “cuppa?”

     taking off her fur coat, ada smiled back watching nora disappear into the kitchen.

     “i spoke with michael,” the shelby sister called, grabbing what appeared to be yesterday’s paper from the coffee-table. few headlines catch her interest, something about the new scarlet buses in london but nothing much else.

     nora bites her lip, glad the other woman couldn’t see her reaction – she wanted to pry but any sign of forgiveness would surely be right back to her husband, and she wasn’t looking to give him any satisfactory release.

     with the clinking and light banging of cabinets coming to a halt, ada knew she had her attention. “says he loves you, misses the kids.”

     nora scrunches her face in disgust pouring the water into the empty kettle, catching a glimpse of her wedding ring clinking against the metal.

     “michael misses having his fuckable other-hauf oan haun. it’s jist a bit guilt. gee it a couple o’ weeks and he’ll be the same auld miserable prick you lot like to pretend he’s no.” she bitterly muses, placing the kettle onto the burning stove.

     nora digs around for some loose teabags, unsure of where her in-law keep them. “who knows, mebbe this time the snow’ll fuck him over so much–”

     she grins finding two stashed behind a cracked teapot and the bread bin. “–i won’t have to.”

     ada thinks back to her encounter with michael yesterday morning. cut hand aside, nora seemed perfectly well kept for someone who ‘couldn’t tell her left tit from her right by teatime.’

     “what about you? still on the stuff yourself?”

     “telt ye before hen, no efter rosalin. gonnae be a proper mammy noo.”

     there’s a reluctance in her words, confirming it’s a fib yet, nothing in the girl’s behaviour seemed to prove michael claims.

     hearing the bubbling water, nora lifts the kettle and clasps two green teacups making her way back to the living-room, setting everything down on the table in the middle, letting ada sort herself out.

     straighten up, nora clocks a familiar piece of her home peeking out behind the red christmas sack. “why’ve you got michael’s gun?”

     “he gave it to me – to you. just in case.”

     “if he was that worried, he’d be at hame wae his weans an ‘is wife but he isnae, is he?”

     ada huffs at nora’s pessimism. michael was miles away ripping his hair out over this girl and she wouldn’t even give him the time of day. “he’s just trying to keep the peace, there’s no harm in that.”

     nora’s gasps, unable to contain the seething anger towards ada’s assumption wondering what her husband had told his cousin.

     stalking up to the woman clad in luxurious brands, shiny pumps, and a pressed blouse unfazed by her own appearance consisting of unkept hair, a flowy maroon tea-dress with ragged sleeves now covered by esme’s woolly brown shall.

     nora crosses her arms, getting in ada’s face equipped with a low, condescending tone. “aye, that’s easy fur ‘im in’t it ditch ‘es faimly the second he canny cope – thir aw the fuckin’ same. ma da, your da an his da. god fucking forbid–“

     an abrupt stinging sensation in her right cheek cuts nora’s vitriol short. “michael was right, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?”

     nora’s breath hitches in at her in-law’s brash reaction. “whit?”

     “you! you’re not ‘off it for the kids’ michael’s told me–“

     “–oh aye, michael gray, the-patron-fucking-saint. michael telt you whitever he wants tae get back tae his ma – that he’s still her good wee boy, jist his wummin ‘causin’ aw the trouble. whit’d he say? that ah’m an impotent looney oan the snow? tell ‘im to look in a fucking mirror.”

     “you still lied to me love.”

     “so? yer brothers lie tae ye, an clearly michael an’aw.”

     “i just look out for you is all. esme’s got ‘er head screwed on and you, you were just a kid dragged into all of this – up the duff and michael in prison after the lorne fire at what? eighteen-nineteen? if it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”

     “oh come aff it ada. you saw yer replacement and fucked-off. esme didnae cut it, cause polly couldnae staun ‘er but when wee do-wally nora fae glesga started getting cosy wae ‘er boy, you knew you’d be set.”

     ada tilts her head in contempt, “john and esme will be back soon, anything else you want off your chest without the audience?”

     “aye. when ye head up the road, tell him ah‘ve nicked his ain stash and that he can shove that gun, up his fucking arse. i’m sure big brother tom will happily pull the trigger.”

     there’s a thick tension between the two women, though it’s cut short by a booming voice from down the hall, “oi, is that ada here?”

     “black hand. everybody will have got one,” john swallows, hard. “they’re coming for us all.”

     she stomps her foot in frustration, turning her face to hold back some tears whilst she stands protectively between the married couple.

     if they’d left one with arthur and john, they’d surely left one with michael. there was nowhere to hide.

     nora feels her heart pick up speed, her stomach tying itself in knots. once again confirming her assumption of purgatory. no rest for the wicked, nor their family. “h-how long do we have?”

     for the first time this week nora thought of her husband, she wanted him by her side. to cling to him and for him to reassure her that everything was going to be alright, that nothing would harm them. just as he did when he went to prison the first time, or when he’d killed that alfie's man after their fight or even when they’d sent him to hang, he’d promised it wouldn’t go as far as that, that’d he’d be back before their rosalin was born.

     sensing some inner tension, esme place a comforting hand on the young girl’s shoulders. feeling the heat from her hands calm her through the flimsy sheer material of the dress.

     “a day, month, maybe another year.” he lists attempting to contain his boiling temper.

     despite john’s arrogance, he knew he couldn’t fight what was heading his way alone. esme was adamant he could – or well, she could.

     getting the rest of the family involved wasn’t a bad idea but only on their terms, not tom’s. john wanted to ignore it, in hopes it would go away and changretta would forget the whole thing but their world was too cruel to grant them that. esme was happy to pretend, go on with festivities as normal. john just wished he could do the same.

     all this because he’d opened his big fucking mouth about lizzie.

     “whit noo?”

     esme grabs both nora’s shoulders, spinning her to show an encouraging smile. “nothing. we’re the family now, and this bastard isn’t going to ruin tomorrow for any of us.”

     she puts a hand under her chin, lifting it. “we’ll ask michael to pop round, won’t we? the kids’ll be over the moon.”

     “today, everyone in the family received on of these.” ada states, carefully handing her cousin the letter with one hand, her distraught aunt in a tight hold with the other.

     “what’s it mean?” michael questions, glancing down at the loose parchment wondering if there was one sitting in his own letterbox at home.

     without looking to upset the elder woman in her arms, she spares him the detailed explanation, cutting to the chase. “tommy’s called a family meeting, he wants you both to come.”

     ada tenderly guides her aunt over to the fire, helping her rest. hoping it will distract polly long enough for her to speak with michael.

     she motions for him to follow her to the darkened space behind the staircase. “it’s from luca changretta, angel’s older brother. he’s coming after us.”

     michael begins gnawing on his tongue. hoping to get some form of release to ease the feeling of disdain for himself.

     “tommy says he wants you to collect john tomorrow since he won’t pick up the phone.”

     he ponders for a moment, thinking of the danger he’d put nora and the kids in.

     ada had already informed him she’d refused to take the pistol – on account of her own fucking pride – so she’d be left with whatever john had lying about the house, which was abysmal.

     she takes his hands into her's, gripping them with a sense of urgency.

     “michael,” ada warns, “these men can and will kill your children. if john doesn’t want to come, fine.” she pauses, shocked at what’d she’s just blurted out but continues nonetheless. “don’t even think about leaving nora there. drag her into the car if you have to.”

     “you heard her ada. she doesn’t want to hear it from me.”

     “she still bloody loves you for godsake!” she exclaims, yanking the letter and skelping him with it. “nora’s hurting, struggling to cope with all this. you’ve dumped her at your cousin’s and she thinks you’ve washed your hands with her.”

     “michael.” polly calls, holding something neither of them could quite make out. “it’s tommy, he wants you to come to the phone.”

     “you here to see your missus then?” john joshers, lowering his weapon.

     “tommy wants everybody at charlie’s yard, now.”

     fiddling with the shotgun, john quickly ushers his dog inside then climbs down from the roof attempting to ignore michael’s proposal.

     it was ten in the morning, he’d hardly slept with his niece’s colic and his own kids were already up and running rampant with their new toys and full of pieces and sugar.

     inside, nora nestled into the couch with little rosalin giggling in her arms as she waved a staffed bear in front of her. george occasionally joining too but he was more preoccupied with his new bouncy-ball and race car.

     esme inspects from the window as the two men head towards the front door. she’s alerted john of the mysterious white vehicle pulling up on their property,

     “red,” she beckons, “michael’s at the door. doesn’t seem to be on his own accord.”

     nora carefully passes her daughter into the arms of katie shelby. praying the infant wouldn’t cause a fuss whilst she dealt with her father outside.

     giving esme once reassuring glance, nora storms towards the door unsure if her friend had followed behind.

     michael could try with all his might but she wouldn’t let him ruin a single moment for her, or their children.

     she could hear his muffled voice grow louder and clearer the closer to the outside she became, far quicker than her brain had been able to plan a course of action.

     “look john, we don’t have time for this alright? just come to the meeting.”

     john, obviously disinterested keeps ushering him to relax, “come in the house, have some food, see your–“

     he’d barely twisted the handle before nora swung it open. nearly pulling it off its hinges, causing him to jump back.

     “tell thomas shelby he can crawl back tae whitever fucking hole he came from!” she jeered, nearly pushing her husband off his balance.

     it was strange seeing him so tailored, quite unnerving actually.

     he lets out a huff, knowing this wouldn’t be easy. “look, tommy says that they could come for us today,” he explains, but she sneers in his face mimicking the similar argument that started it all. “george and rosie - now. nail me to a cross another time, alright? i’m not in the mood for your fucking attitude nora.”

     “jesus suffering-” she curses. “dae ye even listen tae yersel? or does he dae the ‘hinking fur ye noo tae?” nora taunted again, her voice cracking with the increased volume. she knew she had an audience but the brewing annoyance begged to be vented.

     “–look it’s the mafia, alright? the new york mafia we’re talking about.”

     john, trying to end their lovers-tiff cuts in, “and we’re the peaky fucking blinders.”

     “no, we’re not john. we’re not the peaky fucking blinders unless we’re together.”

     despite addressing his cousin, nora bites back. “that’s some fucking cheek michael, ‘cause ah can tell ye wan place ye wernae.”

     sometimes michael considered that nora’d be happier seeing them all hanged collectively than the foursome being saved.

     michael tries to ignore feeling her hot and heavy breaths hitting against his jaw. he glares back, calling on his cousin.

     “john, come to meeting. think about the kids–”

     nora’s eyes widened at michael’s bargaining. ‘think about the kids?! you’ve got two weans in there you’ve no seen all week.’

     “–if you want to leave, then fine.”

     michael turns his attention back to his wife, “car.”

     “it’s christmas michael, whit the fuck do you think is going to happen?” she croaks, though her words laced in venom.

     there’s some rustling and shuffling behind her with a faint click of a gun which she assumed was just down to john and the shotgun over his back but the change in her husband’s eyes say otherwise as his jaw clenches.

     “nonie.” it’s the last tangible sound she catches before michael roughly grabs her arms shoving her back to the main door. esme quickly slamming it shut.

     there’s a mixture of ringing in her ears and a collection of screams once they duck to the floor. she couldn’t hear the bullets simply the ringing at the back of her skull.

     “mum!” nora’s scream echoed down the bleak corridor as she attempted to get the attention of the lost woman who’d just arrived in the ward. george in her arms, nora’s trying to fight the tears for the sake of staying on her feet.

     she could barely make out the small group trailing behind polly, it was all just a blurry, black array moving towards her and george.

     polly takes nora and her grandson into a warm embrace as nora clings to her jacket, beginning to sob into her shoulder. “ah didnae know whit tae dae! he wis jist lyin' thir an' the blood– an' john– fuck!”   

     a questioning voice behind cuts between them, “where is he?”

     with her daughter-in-law still sniffling in her arms, polly turns to glare at her nephew.

     “the fuck you daein here?” nora growled.

     “love, don’t start this. where’s michael?”

     “don’t start?! don’t you fucking start when it’s your fault he’s bleedin’ oot.”

     polly gives nora a tight squeeze of reassurance before grabbing her hand, pulling the pair further away from thomas.

     “c’mon, let’s get you a tea and a seat.”

     “i want my husband. i just saw him fucking gunned down.” she exhaled throwing herself back into the chair. placing george on her lap and letting him snuggle into her chest whilst the in-laws loomed over them.

     “ma, want daddy.”

     nora sighs, relaxing at hearing his timid voice as george rubs some sleep from his eyes, “ah know baba, ah know.”

     “hey stranger.”

     nora smiled weakly at the familial greeting when stepping into the vacant room. believing it would be best to go in alone, just in case.

     “hey you."

michael could sense the hesitance in her slow movement as she scanned the various bandages and remaining blood stains from the bullet wounds.

     she takes a seat on the end of the bed, softly interlocking their hands but doesn’t look at him.

     “nonie.”

     nora begins shaking her head not looking to hear any excuses.

     “i’m sorry about–“

     “–doesnae matter.”

     “yes it does. i left you–“

     “you’re alive. that’s aw that matters.”

     michael purses his lips ready to change the subject, knowing nora’s stubbornness wouldn’t let him continue. “where’s the kids?”

     “george is oot there wae yer mammy, an ada’s got the wee-yin.”

     “–john?”

     bracing herself, nora takes a sharp inhale swallowing the lump in her throat. “there jist wisnae enough time.” she paused, “he didnae make it aff the drive.”

     “i want to see him.”

     “naw. michael, look at the state ae ye–“

     “he’s family nonie.”

     “an whit am i? the village eejit?” she sarcastically jabs, “ah’m no riskin’ loosing you again, aw’right? many bloody time dae ah need tae say it fir it to go through that thick heid ae yours.”

     his heart sinks in discontent but michael knew she was right – usually is.

     nora lets out a humours snort.

     “what you laughing at?”

     “heard yer mammy took the fags aff ye?”

     “she did, and now that you mention–“

     “christ,” she grins, rolling her eyes. “ye can forget it, call it karmic retribution for nicking ma lighter. wis havin’ tae light ma ain fags on a wee candle ‘cause ae you.”

     “that’s fair. we both know you’ll cave eventually.”

     “aye, ah wouldnae haud yer breath.” she replies as-a-matter-of-fact.

     “we’ll get through this won’t we?”

     “don’t see how we can’t.” she comforts rubbing her thumb over his bruised knuckles. “but first, there’s a wee boy out there desperate to show ye his christmas presents."

welcome back! this is my rewritten 'kingdom come' as though it was for nora.

i wrote the original on a whim back in 2018? '19? i had no internet for a week as we were changing providers and hadn't written anything that large for a very long time and it was also only the second piece i'd ever written for the fandom. it was the first thing i'd even just written in a year, so writing the reader-insert seemed like the way to go. but, as i got further in i really wanted to have my own spin on the character - which you can see in the original particularly in the phone call with arthur - so nora was born.

i'm going to keep the original up despite having many problems with it but if you want a new and improved experience that still has some overlap, then this has you covered!

[hllywdwhre]

Long Time Coming

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary: When each of the family members noticed you and Tommy falling for each other

Warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of heroin (talks about how Tommy used it and the Chinese selling it - nothing graphic, only mentions), let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.7K

Notes: THANK YOU for all the love on Revenge! After many comments and requests asking for more of the pairing, I decided to delve deeper into the development of Tommy and her’s relationship. Up next is moments reader and Tommy fell for each other!

Can technically be read as a stand-alone, but is meant to pair with this Tommy fic I wrote.

Polly

Polly was the second to catch on. She knows her nephew far too well to not notice the small changes. Grace’s death changed something deep inside of Tommy and she didn’t think she’d ever see the day when Tommy, not only fell in love but allowed himself to love again.

Then you came along.

He started smiling more and drinking less. You got him to stop using dope to self-medicate. He also didn’t look nearly as tired.

She always said Tommy had his mother’s smile when he truly smiled, and it had been a long time since Polly had seen her sister’s smile on his face. You made a sarcastic comment in the private booth at The Garrison once though and there it was.

She noticed you falling for him when you came to her with way too much anxiety over an innocent, and adorable, request.

You were picking at your nails as you sat on her sofa while she lit a candle in her living room,

“Tommy mentioned you were the only one who had ever been able to replicate his mother’s raspberry tart recipe. I was wondering if there was any way you could teach me to make them?”

Polly froze for a moment, surprised at the request given your anxious state. It was then that she realized why you were so nervous. Even if you hadn’t realized it, you were falling for Tommy.

You two spent the rest of the day in her kitchen perfecting the recipe.

Arthur

Arthur, bless him, can be pretty blind when it comes to romance. Like. Really blind. Lust? He can spot it a mile away. Hell, he was the first to notice that you and Tommy were sleeping together. But love? Gods help him.

It took until you killed Sabini for him to notice the two of you were in love.

The next day neither you nor Tommy wanted to leave your bed, but an emergency family meeting with the Shelbys and your father had been called because of your actions.

When you told everyone what you had done, Arthur was the first to break the shocked silence.

“Why the bloody ‘ell would you ‘ave done that?” He’d shouted in a mix of shock and anger.

“He’s been intimidating my father and me for over a year now, and then yesterday I learned what he had done to you lot… My anger got the best of me and I was tired of him,” you’d replied with a deep crimson blush spreading across your face.

The rest of the family and your father wore knowing smirks at your explanation, but you could see the moment it all clicked in Arthur’s eyes. His smirk spread across his face and his tone went from shocked and angry, to proud.

“Well, love, remind me not to piss you off.”

John

Since he’d had an arranged marriage of his own, John knew better than most what you and Tommy were going through. In a rare moment of vulnerability, Tommy had actually come to John for advice before the wedding on how to help things go more smoothly and make sure that you were comfortable.

After a couple of months of being married, John had gotten Tommy alone and checked in on how he and you were doing. It was when Tommy had seemed surprised that things were going so well that John noticed his brother was becoming fond of you. He didn’t question Tommy on how he felt, he knew better than to think his brother would spill his heart to him, but he could see that Tommy felt something for you.

Esme & Ada

Once again, since Esme’s own marriage into the Shelby family was an arranged one, she went out of her way to make you feel included and make sure you knew that she was an open, non-judgmental, and private ear you could turn to.

Ada walked in on you and Esme having a more vulnerable conversation when you were first married and you and Esme both immediately changed the topic. When Ada later asked Esme in private what the two of you had been discussing, Esme answered as honestly as she could without giving away details.

”I know what she’s going through, to an extent. I got lucky with how quickly I was accepted since John and I immediately clicked. Not to mention the way I saw every inch of you on our wedding night,” Esme said, both her and Ada laughing lightly at the memory of Esme not seeing her own husband naked on their wedding night, but instead his sister as she gave birth to Karl.

After that, Ada made sure to include you in any shopping trips she went on and opened her house in London to you in case you ever needed to get away.

”I know how my brother is. He can be a right twat when he wants to be. Just let me know if you ever need an escape. We’ll call it a girl’s night.”

The two women noticed you falling for Tommy when you were included in one of the shopping trips and they asked how things were going. You’d tried to brush the question off far too quickly, and when they couldn’t pry out of you that anything bad had happened, they quickly pieced together that you were catching feelings.

Michael

Michael noticed as Tommy’s jealousy and protectiveness over you grew. The Shelby family knew you were capable of handling your own, but that didn’t mean Tommy wasn’t going to be protective. Especially after Grace.

Michael watched the way Tommy went from simply glaring at any men who tried flirting with you, to approaching the men and wrapping his arm around you while questioning whatever unfortunate man had angered him if "he had spotted the ring on your finger and was simply stupid, or if he was blind."

Jealousy was what gave it away for Michael.

Finn

Finn noticed after a particularly dangerous job involving you didn’t go according to plan. You and Finn were the only two who wouldn’t be immediately recognized, so it was up to you two to find out if the Chinese had been selling heroin even after Tommy had threatened them with a bomb.

The two of you had been separated and you hadn’t returned yet when Finn made his way to the betting shop where everyone was waiting.

Tommy’s rage when Finn dared show up without you was something Finn never wanted to be on the receiving end of again.

Charlie

Charlie was the first to notice. Granted he didn’t realize what he was seeing, but he had noticed.

You had convinced Tommy to build a stable at The Arrow House. He, Charlie, and you all loved horses, and it would be a fun way for you and Charlie to bond.

Tommy was away on business and you and Charlie had decided to take the horses for a ride. Charlie sat in front of you and you were letting him guide the horse as he hammered you with various questions about the world.

“Why do horses eat grass? Where do horses come from? Why can’t they eat human food?”

It was during this conversation that he pointed out that Tommy liked you.

“When will Daddy be back?” Charlie asked you.

“In two more days. He’s handling some business in London,” you answered easily.

“I miss him,” he said wistfully.

“I’m sure he misses you, too,” you reassured, “but he has to work so we can have our house and horses,” you told him, hoping to comfort the child some more.

“Do you miss him?” Charlie questioned, turning his head to look up at you.

“I do,” you answered easily. It wasn’t a lie.

By this point, you had grown to care for Tommy. You thought it was only as a friend and nothing more, but Charlie seemed to notice it was something different. You and Tommy didn’t feel the need to explain to Charlie what an arranged marriage was. The two of you had talked about how you were going to explain your marriage to Charlie, and you had both come up with a way to explain it to him without potentially causing any insecurities in the child or exposing him to what an arranged marriage was. It was a delicate balance of lies and truth, but neither of you wanted to tell Charlie “Well, sometimes marriage isn’t love, it’s business.” He was going to deal with enough at the truth of his mother’s death, and neither of you felt it was necessary to add a potential insecurity about whether the new mother figure in his life actually cared for him.

“He misses you, too,” Charlie said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

Your eyebrows furrowed together and you looked down at him,

“I’d hope so since we’re married, but what makes you say that?” You were still walking that delicate line of truth and lies, but his comment had piqued your interest.

“He watches you a lot and smiles a lot.”

His simple explanation could easily be explained away and you explained it away internally, but Charlie had noticed what you and Tommy hadn’t noticed yet.

Alfie

Alfie and you had always had a cheeky and joking relationship. You got on like old school friends more than sometimes-ally-sometimes-pain-in-the-ass.

However, when Tommy and you came to him to see if you could rally his support in the inevitable war that was going to break out with Sabini’s men, he noticed the dynamic had changed. Typically meetings with Alfie were tense with the atmosphere only broken by your sarcastic comments and Alfie’s borderline flirting with you.

Alfie was taken aback when you shot down his flirting and Tommy sent a glare his way.

He recovered quickly though and soon went on to teasing the two of you about your “newfound happiness”.

”Was wondering when the two of you were going to pull your heads out of your asses and smell the roses.”

[corrupte3d-mindz]

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,

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.

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.

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.

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

[twoheartedfool]

Unearthed

Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

CW: Funerals, mention of blood, angsty angst, happy ending?

The funeral was a dark one, as it should be expected. The dark clouds rolling over matched the mood of everyone in Small Heath mourning over their beloved king, Mr. Thomas Shelby. England mourned along with you. You had forgotten your umbrella in the daze on the way to the cemetery. Ada, with her arm wrapped in yours, held one over the two you. She didn’t fuss over you. She knew you wouldn’t like it. But her, and the other siblings that you had began to call your own, were all there for you. Silently in the background, they made sure everything went smoothly because you were too much in a fog.

Over the past 24 hours you had felt more emotions than you thought you could handle; despair, anger, betrayal, and now numbness. You were empty. The words said about Tommy were all just buzz in your ears. You stared at the closed casket but felt nothing. You didn’t even realize it was over until Arthur was kissing your forehead and there was a line of people behind him that were waiting to pay their respects. If Tommy was their king, then you were their queen. You didn’t want to see any of them. 

John kissed your cheek next but you continued to stare blankly at the casket. Another figure stood in front of you and you didn’t look at them until you heard their sniffles. Finn. You still had to remind yourself to look up when looking at him. He had grown so much. 

“(Y/N),” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” 

Hearing his words finally awoke something inside you. 

“Finn,” you started. Everyone looked startled at the sound of your voice. They couldn’t remember when you had spoken last. 

You took the young man’s face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Finn, you didn’t do this. There are men in this world, very, very bad men that did this, and they will pay for what they did. You are not one of those men. Tommy loved you. This isn’t your fault. Understood?” 

He nodded quickly. Arthur clamped a loving hand on his shoulder, “Wipe your tears, bruv.” 

“(Y/N), we’re going to the Garrison so everyone can be together. So we can celebrate Tommy,” Ada said softly. 

“I won’t be going to that,” you replied. 

“Please, we’re worried about you,” Esme said. 

“I said no,” you snapped. You sighed and closed your eyes, “I want to stay here a little while.” 

“Let us drive you back at least,” Arthur said. 

“I’ll walk,” you said coldly. 

“Come on, let’s leave her be,” John muttered, pulling Esme and Ada away. Finn shuffled behind them. Arthur stepped towards you.

“You, too, Arthur,” John called out. After a few moments, he finally huffed and walked towards the cars. You vaguely heard him shouting at everyone else to get moving. They filtered away and you watched as men started shoveling dirt into the grave. 

When someone stood beside you again, anger startled to boil up. “I said--”

You were startled by a man you had never seen before holding an envelope towards you. 

“Mrs. Shelby, this is for you.” 

“What is it?” 

“I can’t tell you that but it’s important that you take it.” 

“And who the fuck are you?” 

“I can’t tell you that, either. Please, Mrs. Shelby.” 

Looking down at the envelope, all possible outcomes of what it could be ran through your head. It was too thin to be an explosive. With a sigh, you ripped it out of his hands. 

The handwriting of the letter made your blood run cold. It was too familiar. You would recognize it anywhere. 

(Y/N),

Meet me in the basement of this address. Wait until after the Garrison. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain everything. 

All my love. 

There wasn’t a signature but you didn’t need one to know who it was from, or who you thought it was from anyway. With a snap of your head, you looked up at the man but he was already gone. Desperately looking for any of the Shelby’s, all you saw were the boys filling the grave. All of the cars were gone. But that didn’t matter. You knew a shortcut. 

Many people stared after you while you sprinted pass them. All of them just muttered things to themselves such as “poor girl” or “I don’t know what she’ll be without him.” You of course didn’t notice any of them. All you were focused on was getting to the address. It was in a part of town that you rarely came to, down by the river where it was mostly abandoned warehouses. 

Getting into the building was difficult. It seemed to be the only empty building that still had working locks. Eventually you found an open window that was easy enough to climb through. 

With staggered breath, you made it to the basement. Other than some old crates, there was nothing. The silence was deafening.

A fresh wave of tears made it to your eyes. How could you let yourself gain hope?

“How could I be so stupid?” you whispered fiercely, wiping away your tears. 

“I thought I told you to wait until after the Garrison.” 

You nearly screamed at the voice behind you. Walking around a corner was the man you thought you buried this morning. 

“Tommy,” you whispered, horrified. He wasn’t dressed in his normal suit, just pants, suspenders, and a white shirt that was covered in dirt and blood. Cuts and bruises lined his face. Slowly, you stepped forward, your fingertips hesitantly touching his cheek, his eyes fluttering close at your warmth. He was real. 

“Tommy,” you repeated. 

“It’s me, love.” 

Without a second thought, you threw yourself at him. He caught you easily, accepting your lips that hastily searched for his. You held onto him as tightly as you could, and him you. 

The kiss was finished with a harsh smack against his cheek that echoed throughout the basement. 

“How dare you,” you growled. 

“(Y/N)--”

“No! I had to bury you!” you slapped against his chest. 

“Love, listen-” 

“How dare you!” you screamed, continually hitting against his chest. Sobs escaped you in screams. All the feelings you had been bottling up inside were finally coming up. Tommy secured you tightly against, softly shushing in your ear. 

“You were dead.” 

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m sorry. I’m here. We’re alright now.” 

“How could you do this?” you wailed into his neck. His fingers grasped the nape of your neck, keeping you steady as your sobs slowed.

“It had be done. I needed them to believe it. You couldn’t have know, or else they wouldn’t have went with it.” 

“I don’t understand. Me. Your family. They all thought you were dead.” 

It was barely a twitch in his fingers that you felt in your hair. His silence accompanied it. You leaned away to meet his eyes, your vision finally clearing from the tears. He held the contact boldly. He was an expert at this and known throughout England because of it. Thomas Shelby and his cold, blue eyes. 

But you’re weren’t the rest of England.

“Who did you tell?” you asked. He kept your gaze as you stepped away from him. 

“You couldn’t have known,” he repeated bluntly, a pulse in his clenched jaw.

“Who knew, Thomas?” 

“Arthur.”

A strike of a rage went through you. There was that feeling again, betrayal. You felt it towards the world and God when they killed Thomas. Now you felt it towards the man himself and his brother. 

“Who else?” 

Tommy licked his lips and sighed, “Aunt Pol.” 

You scowled. “That’s why she wasn’t there today.” 

“She didn’t agree with my decision.”

“Of course she didn’t fucking agree with it! Who the fuck would?” you exploded. “What about the others? Do they know? Jesus, Tommy! Finn thinks that all of this is his fault!” 

“When the time is right, I will speak to Finn. He’ll understand. They all will.”

“I don’t,” you muttered. “You’re a bastard. You could have told me.” 

Thomas was hesitant to step forward but when you didn’t make any immediate signs of rejection, he took your face in his hands. He held you firmly, stroking his thumb against the tear stains on your cheeks. When he touched you, it felt like he was touching the most important thing in the world, because to him he was. And he was pleading with the world that you would forgive him for this.

“How would you have felt if I had done this?” you wondered. 

“Broken,” he admitted truthfully and without hesitation. Before you could speak, he continued. “But better than I would have felt if they had gotten to you. I wasn’t the only one with a target on my back. They were going to kill you, but I put myself forward. Nothing will keep you from me, or I you. Do I understand?” 

Exhausted, you lean your forehead against his. The bile in the back of your throat was settling. For a just a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into him and exist outside the past few days. To feel him under your fingertips and his hands against your back.

“You’re still a bastard, Tommy.”

“I know.”

“And you’re not forgiven yet. If you ever try something like this again, you will not be able to fake your death because I will kill you.”

“I know, love.”

[crowleying]

Will get us all killed | m!reader

Date: 29.10.2022

Pairing:  Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 3.318

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Esme Shelby

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Mention of injury (nothing descriptive), slightly sexual content (there is an erection mentioned but nothing more), angst with a happy ending

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Tommy's plan is stupid. It gets John injured and you angry. Your hate for each other gets out of hand.

A/N: English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistake, and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

It wasn't that you weren't listening. You were, which is exactly why you were furious. Tommy had called yet another family meeting to explain one of his absurd plans. They usually didn't make any sense, mainly because he kept most things for himself. The others executed blindly everything he asked, which often got them to get shot at, which, okay, fine, probably was partly their fault because they were quite stupid, and you thought that with all the love. You really cared for John and Arthur.  You, however, couldn't help but point out all the plans' flaws. Tommy hated you for that, but it wasn't your fault if his stupid plans weren't foolproof. You were sure Tommy would have kicked you out of the family meetings, and even from the Peaky Blinders if he could, but you had Polly's protection. She had raised you as her son, taking you in when your mother, her best friend, died. You had grown up with the Shelbys, and while you got along with everyone, you just couldn't see Tommy without wanting to punch him. It hadn't always been like that, though. Tommy was the most brilliant of the family, with Ada being a close second, so he wasn't used to having people rival his intelligence before meeting you. At first, you had tried to be his friend, since he seemed to be the one who was more like you, but he had pushed you away, and after a while, you had stopped trying. Instead, you got really close to John and Ada.

When Tommy finished explaining his plan, the others slipped out of the door, glancing your way. You were still leaning with your back against the wall. Your arms were crossed in front of your chest, and you were burning holes into Tommy's face with your gaze. John snorted, amused at your antics, and exchanged a look with Arthur, who chuckled and patted your shoulder.

"I know a few gipsy curses if you need them," Esme whispered passing by on her way to the door. It made you smile, but it didn't last long. It soon disappeared when Tommy's icy eyes met yours.

"Don't kill each other. We need you both," Ada said as she was leaving. Her tone betrayed the fact that she didn't really believe you would ever come close to that.

Polly was the last one to leave. Before closing the door, she looked at you, trying to tell you just with her gaze to go easy on Tommy. You ignored it.

"Close the door, Pol," Tommy said without turning to her or taking his eyes away from you. She did so, leaving the two of you alone.

Tommy raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms, mirroring your stance. "So?"

"So you keep underestimating threats and you keep important information to yourself." You pushed away from the wall and took a couple of steps towards the table between you and Tommy. "And this plan won't fucking work because that man knows Arthur. He knows he is your brother," you explained waving your hands around animatedly.

"It will be fine."

"Because you are so fucking brilliant, right?" you spat.

He took a cigarette from his silver case. He stroked it against his plump lips, then placed it between them in that way that irritated you so much. He offered you one too.

You ignored the offering. Instead, you went around the table, stopping mere inches from his face. "If someone gets hurt, I will personally hurt you, Thomas," you said, punctuating the words and poking his firm chest with your finger before storming out. Tommy smiled to himself. He loved riling you up.

As you stepped out of the room, people scrambled around, avoiding your gaze, almost as if they had been eavesdropping on the conversation and didn't want you to notice. You decided you didn't care and went to your office to get back to work. On your way there, Ada approached you.

"What happened?" she asked, walking by your side.

"Your brother is an idiot and will get us all killed, that's what happened." You walked into your office and she followed.

"You are the only one thinking that, you know that, right?"

"Apparently I'm the only one with some fucking sense here." You sat at your desk and took a cigarette from the case you had left there. You placed it between your lips and reached for the matches.

She closed the door behind her and walked up to your desk.

"You are the only one who made the point of his life to go against every word Tommy speaks," she corrected.

You arched your eyebrows and lit your cigarette.

"Not my fault he is a bloody idiot." You released the smoke upwards.

She shook her head smiling. "The day you get over this hate of yours, you'll see what we all see."

"And what is it that you see, Ada?"

She crossed her arms. She had no intention of telling you, clearly. "You two are so similar."

"No, we are not," you replied, with more heat than necessary.

She smiled triumphantly. "We all see through your little act," she sing-songed heading to the door.

You got up hastily.

"What are you talking about? Ada, I'm not done talking with you." Before you could go around your desk, she was already out of the door. "Come back here, Ada!" You had all intentions of following her, but one of the men walked in to show you one of the books.

"Fucking Shelbys," you grumbled, making the man chuckle.

You would deal with Ada later.

Later never came, because Thomas' stupid plan had gone to hell not even half an hour in. The man had recognized Arthur as soon as he had seen him, as you had said, and had opened fire on him and John. A bullet had grazed Arthur's arm. He would be fine. John, however, hadn't been so lucky. Before you could put a bullet in that bastard's head, he had hit John in his left shoulder, too close to his heart for your liking. Now he was laying in a hospital bed. The doctor had said that he would be fine, but you were fuming. Polly and Arthur nervously watched you pace back and forth next to your best friend's bed. They had tried to calm you down, but had stopped after you had yelled at Arthur. You were halfway through Arthur's cigarettes. You had already finished yours, but they hadn't helped calm your nerves.

Tommy stormed into the room, Ada hot on his heels. Polly and Arthur stood straighter, ready to intervene. You turned to look at him and quickly killed the cigarette in the ashtray.

"Tommy, what the fuck!" Ada tried to hold him back by his arm, but to no avail.

"What the fuck did you do?" he yelled to your face.

You clenched your fist and before Tommy knew it, you had punched him.

"I tried to save our asses, you fucking cunt!" you snarled through your teeth.

He grabbed the collar of your jacket and you took hold of the front of his shirt.

"You killed that man and fucked up every chance we had. That's what you did," he replied through his teeth.

Arthur and Polly stepped in just as a nurse rushed in, asking you to leave.

"I told you this would happen and you didn't listen because you are oh so fucking clever, and now my best friend is in that bed because of you."

Polly gently put a hand on your shoulder, but you kept glaring at Tommy.

"Alright, boys, you better take this outside."

Her other hand rested on one of Tommy's. He let you go and slowly you did too.

He nodded to the door and turned to leave. You followed him out and didn't register the relief that flooded the room the moment you left.

Tommy walked down the hall, looking for an empty room. He finally found one and pushed the door open to let you in. You spared him a glare as you walked him. He followed and closed the door.

You crossed your arms and turned to look at him, waiting for him to talk. You had said everything you needed to already.

"You know this is a dangerous business and Arthur and John know too. You all know there are risks. You can't go around killing every person I need, no matter how much of a dick they are."

You rolled your eyes and scoffed shaking your head. You pointed the finger at him.

"This is your fault. This wouldn't have happened if you just had listened to me! But you never fucking do. And I'm so tired of your bullshit. I know you never liked me because I am more intelligent than you but, for fucks sake, get over it," you hissed in his face.

He seemed taken aback by your words. When he didn't reply, you rolled your eyes and walked away from him.

"You're wrong."

You scoffed. "Of course."

"No, I mean-"

"I know exactly what you mean. Because you are the one who is always fucking right. The only one with a brain and all that. Isn't that right, Tommy?" You spat out the words like venom.

You heard him cover the distance between you with a few steps, and when you turned back to him, you didn't expect him to be so close.

"It's not what you think it is," he murmured. How could he be so collected when you just wanted to punch him again?

"I know exactly what it is, Thomas!"

"No, you don't."

"Fuck you."

He licked his lips, and you knew he was about to talk again, but you wouldn't let him.

"Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you, Thomas Shelby. Your brother is laying on that bed with a bullet in him and you-"

"They already took it out," he corrected offhandedly.

And you just couldn't help it. You pushed him full force with both hands. He bumped into the wall behind him. You walked up to him and took him by the collar of his jacket.

Instead of pushing you away, Tommy grabbed your hips and pushed them forward, against him. You were confused for a brief moment before you felt his erection pressing against your leg. You looked down to where your bodies met and then up at him.

"Tommy..."

"You're wrong."

Before you could react to his words, he pulled you into a heated kiss. You were paralyzed for a moment before you melted into it. Your body relaxed against his as you kissed him back. His lips were as soft as they looked. You would never admit to anyone that you had wondered how they would feel on yours every time he stroked a cigarette on them or licked them, but you had. It seemed like his lips were a match that had put your stomach on fire. Your desire to punch him had faded away. The kiss you were sharing and your bodies touching was all that mattered. Until the door opened and you pulled away as fast as lightning.

A nurse entered with fresh sheets in her arms and looked at you confused, then she spotted Tommy.

"I'm very sorry, Mr Shelby, I didn't know you were here. I'll leave you alone."

You fixed your suit. "No need to, we were done," you assured, and without waiting for a reply, you passed by her and walked out the door without sparing Thomas a glance. His eyes followed you until you disappeared, and then he cleared his throat and fixed his suit before leaving with a whispered "have a nice day" to the nurse.

When he walked out, you were nowhere to be seen. He went back to John's room, but you weren't there either.

It took him almost two days to realize you were avoiding him. He had been busy fixing the mess, and Polly said you were spending all your time by John's bed, which was to be expected. Except for the fact that when he went to the hospital the evening after the incident, you weren't there. He figured you had gone home to change and rest now that John was awake and his life wasn't at risk anymore.

When you didn't show up for dinner as always, he just thought you were too tired.

That night he fell asleep to the memory of your lips on his and for once his dreams weren't filled with the noise of the shovels but with your voice whispering his name.

The morning after, you weren't at the shop. That was weird, you were always the first to arrive.

By midday, he had been on the receiving end of so many of Ada and Esme's glares, he decided he needed a break.

He visited John, hoping to find you there, but once again you weren't.

He had thought Ada and Esme's looks were because they deemed him to be the cause of John's injury, but he changed his mind later that afternoon when Polly walked into his office like a woman with a mission.

"You two need to talk."

He glanced at her before his eyes went back to the papers he was reading. "I already talked with John."

"It's not John I'm talking about."

That grabbed his attention. "What are you talking about?" he asked, forgetting about the papers for a minute.

"Fix whatever mess you have caused, Thomas." She walked out without waiting for his reply.

He sighed and ran a hand over his face. So you were avoiding him because of what had happened.

He decided not to listen to Polly, so maybe you were right when you said he never listened. He would give you some time. Maybe you just needed to come to terms with what had happened between the two of you.

You didn't come to work the day after, even though all the paperwork that had been on your desk the day before had been done. Tommy wasn't surprised. You were a workaholic just like him. You probably had just moved your office to your house.

Family meetings were weird without you glaring at him, interrupting, huffing and insulting him under your breath. Ada and Esme's looks weren't as fun.

"What are you waiting for, Thomas?" Polly questioned after the others had left the meeting.

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

That same night, he grabbed the dinner Polly had put aside for you and set out to come to visit you.

You had told Polly times and times again that you were fully capable of taking care of yourself and that she didn't need to cook for you, but there was no saying no to Polly Gray. She had been sending you food through Ada or Esme every evening you hadn't shown up for dinner with the family at hers. She hadn't asked anything, but she was Polly Gray. She didn't need to ask. She just knew things and she knew something had happened between you and Tommy.

You weren't surprised when you heard a knock at your door.

"Coming," you yelled as you made your way to the door.

"Finally, I'm star-" you cut yourself off midsentence when you saw Tommy.

"Tommy... What are you doing here?"

He handed you the plate. "Brought you dinner. Thought it was time for us to talk."

You sighed and nodded, inviting him in. He stepped in and you closed the door behind him. You didn't remember him ever visiting you before.

You passed by him and went to the kitchen, followed by him. "You don't mind if I eat while you talk?"

He took off his coat he abandoned on the back of a chair and his cap throwing it on the table before he sat down. "Please."

You sat down on the opposite end of the table with the dish in front of you and started eating.

Tommy took his time to light a cigarette.

"You've been avoiding me."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't really deny that.

"Why?" he asked when you didn't reply.

You scoffed. "What was I supposed to do? I tried to figure out why you would do something like that and came up with nothing. I thought you might have wanted to get me caught but then they-"

"Stop thinking I hate you."

You looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Why would I? It's not exactly like you ever proved me wrong."

"I kissed you."

"Which you might have done for some ulterior motive. Did you forget I know you, Tommy? You always have some kind of hidden agenda."

He took a long drag from his cigarette, his eyes were fixed on you as if he was analysing you.

"There was no hidden agenda. I've been wanting to kiss you since... forever," he admitted softly.

You snorted. "You hate everything I do. I'm always in your way, have been since we were kids."

Tommy shook his head. "Yeah, I wasn't fond of you when we were kids, but things change." He leaned forward and you looked at him, the food now forgotten. "I don't hate anything you do. On the contrary, I love it. You are the only one who stands his ground with me and speaks up against me and points out all the flaws in my plans because you're not only clever but also very observant. How could I hate it when it's so hot?"

You shook your head, smiling bitterly. "Please. Don't play with me. You've had your fun."

"I'm not playing. I've been waiting for this for ages."

"Why didn't you say anything, then?"

"I had a lot of reasons to believe you didn't like me," he said matter-of-factly, "and you had your reasons not to like me. I just think we should start anew, give each other a chance. Give this a chance."

You couldn't deny it was a good prospect. Peace at last.

"If that's what you want. If you like me too."

You hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Yeah. I think we can try."

Tommy smiled and got up. He slowly walked around the table. He stopped to kill the cigarette in the ashtray you kept on the table, then continued towards you and stopped in front of you. He put his hands in the pockets of his elegant trousers.

"Are you going to come back to work now?"

You sighed. "Ugh... I mean, the boss is a pain in the ass, but the guy next door is cute," you joked.

He snorted. "Is that a yes?"

You nodded.

"Everything clear?"

"Good. See you tomorrow."

You huffed. "We are gonna die," you mumbled.

"What was that?" Tommy asked lifting his chin, daring you to repeat what you had just said.

"Your plan has more holes than a colander."

"Not again," Ada groaned.

"Okay, we'll leave you to it," John announced. He was the first to leave the room, followed by everyone else while you and Tommy had a staring match.

Polly was the last to leave. She looked at the two of you knowingly.

"Make it quick, boys," she said as she closed the door.

You got closer and sat on the table.

"So?" Tommy asked, walking up to you.

"You are an idiot." Before he could retort, you pulled him into a kiss by his collar.

His hands slipped to your hips and pulled you against his chest. You smiled against his lips.

He pulled away from your lips just a few inches to speak. "You need to stop challenging my authority in front of everyone."

"Nah, It's too much fun."

He pushed you away, making you laugh. He tried to suppress a smile trying to act annoyed, but he couldn't, not when he heard you laughing.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Complete master post of all spicy stories below!

Peaky Blinders

Comfortable - Thomas Shelby x Reader - Pt 1. Pt 2

While everyone else is away you get stuck at home with Tommy planning Polly’s Birthday party. Normally the two of you fight and bicker constantly. This time something different happens.... Loss of virginity, sex, enemies to lovers

Jealous - Thomas Shelby x Reader - Pt 1. Pt. 2

Tommy gets jealous when the reader runs into an old friend at the ar. Friends to lovers, confession of feeling, Pt 1 is all fluff & Pt 2 is all spice

Are You Asking? - Thomas Shelby X Reader

A younger reader (legal) who is friends with Ada surprises Tommy when she comes back from a trip abroad. Fluff and Smut

Tipsy - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Tommy teases the reader for getting tipsy, he walks her home and sees what happens. Hurt /Comfort & mild smut

The Italian Spy - Thomas Shelby X Reader

The Reader is an Italian girl who wants Tommy's help but gets a lot more than she bargained for. Hurt comfort & smut

Bloody Hell - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Things get messy when Tommy goes after the Italian cook in the kitchen. Explicit sex while being covered in blood

Threesome - Thomas Shelby X Reader X Alfie Solomons Pt.1 Pt.2

Double penetration with Alfie and your husband Tommy - Possessive & rough

Bubbly - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Super smart reader, struggles of being very pretty and anxiety, Falling for your boss. Fluff, & mild smut

Fix It - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, fighting, depression, drinking, drug use, unhealthy weight loss, Esme & Polly to the rescue, Tommy fixes it. Hurt/comfort, Fix it fic,

Arranged Marriage - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, loss of virginity, slow burn, falling in love, fluff and smut

Wedding Night - Thomas Shelby X Reader

 Sex, loss of virginity, fluff, cuteness, rough sex, the reader gets a little bruised but she’s happy about it

Tiny Dancer- Thomas Shelby x Reader

Sex, hurt comfort, falling in love, Shelby family drama, happy ending, hurt comfortt

Jealous Wife - Thomas Shelby X Reader

Tommy's young wife gets jealous of all the attention he gets. Rough emotional sex

Dom Assasin Reader X Thomas Shelby

A violent and sexy tale of revenge...

Mustache - Michael Gray X Reader

reader has a gun, negotiation that ends in sex, woman on top, taking what she wants, no thoughts of consequences, happy cheeky ending.

Never Safe For Work - Thomas Shelby X Reader -- Pt2

A reader with a high sex drive, and the things Tommy does to keep up - with Gifs

High Sex Drive - Arthur Shelby X Reader

Arthur Shelby trying to keep up with his wife - With Gifs

Enemies Make the Best Lovers - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Reader and Thomas are well-known rivals when a business trip from hell forces them to work together they must overcome their rocky past

Tangerine

Stop the World

After years of working against each other out in the field. This time you decide its best to team up - the aftermath leaves you weak in the knees

Tangerine Dream

Blue light room smut - you meet a man at the club and decide to go upstairs.

Baby Girl

Tangerine and the Reader get caught in a sticky situation and he finally understands the effect he has on her - Heavy Dom / Sub

Sherlock Holmes

Irene - Sherlock X Reader

The Reader is not impressed with Sherlock's long-time friend. SMUT

[cosmic-crybaby]

Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby

Chapter 15: 'Alone Tonight'

Warnings In This Chapter: Hinted affair, excessive alcohol consumption, arguing, Thomas really messing things up for himself etc. etc. etc.

Masterlist:

---

The distance between you had only grown with the passing weeks.

The more time had passed, the more Thomas had to work. The more he was gone, the more you realized you had been sleeping alone most nights. You understood how busy he was and how his job and family relied on him to make the right choices, but you were a part of his family too, You wanted to keep reminding him, but you knew it was useless when he couldn't put off business any longer.

It was the the night before Elizabeth's performance, and you had finally caught a moment with him. You didn't want to be a bother as you caught sight of him sorting through endless piles of papers on his desk.

"Thomas..." You meekly called as you stepped through the threshold and into the office. He looked up at you for just a moment. And in the split second, you saw just how overworked he was, slowly being consumed by his work. He acknowledged your presence with a small raise of his brow. His blue eyes lit up behind his glasses. "I didn't want to bother you, but I wanted to remind you that tomorrow is Elizabeth's first performance, and she really wants you to be there," You told him, walking further into the room. By the time he nods at your words, you were already at the front of his desk.

"You could have told Francis to deliver the message to me instead of getting out of bed to tell me yourself...you know you need to rest more now that you're further along," He simply stated.

"I wanted to deliver it to you myself so you know just how important this is,” You stood up straight, making sure it was known to him that you were not to be taken lightly at that moment. 

“I’ll surely be there,” He sighed.

“If you can’t make it, tell me now so-” You rambled. Thomas takes a heavy, slightly frustrated sigh. 

“(Y/n),” 

You shut your mouth as he stated your name. ‘Hm?’ You hummed, raising your brows in acknowledgment.

“I would want nothing more than to be there, I promise I will go,” He calmly stated. You nod once. 

“It’s late, please try to come to bed tonight,” You reminded him of the time. By this time he was fully invested with his work again as he just hummed at your request. Without another word you were gone. You read his actions loud and clear before going back to the bedroom, holding on to the railing to help you along the way. You slept alone that night once again. 

The next day was a busy one. Your kids were taken to school in the company Bentley  as you were off to work. Sitting in the office, doing some last minute paperwork and orders for inventory. Ever since you started seeing Thomas, you and your family were put on the protection list, on behalf of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas even managed to have your bills paid and taken care of. It made you feel uneasy to have your independence taken away, but you wouldn’t emasculate him when you knew he was doing it to not only ensure you were taken care of but to ensure you put all of that money into your own wallet for once. The Peaky boys would often linger around the front and back of the bakery to make sure you weren't in harms way. It's not like you ever were in the first place.

Winter was slowly rolling in and you were preparing hot drinks and baked goods for the customers who just wanted to keep warm during the cold seasons. You even offered to serve hot whiskey cider to the workers who came in at the end of their shifts when the snow really kicked in. 

And that was why you were everyone’s favorite baker. 

After you had closed up the shop, you were picked up and taken on the trip back to Arrow House. You got yourself and Henry ready for Elizabeth's first big performance at the ballet. Frances was there to help get Henry dressed. You struggled to clasp your earrings on you asked her: 

“And where the fuck is Thomas, we’re late!” 

Much to your knowledge, he was in his office. The pub was lively that night, but he was sitting like a dead corpse at his desk. Smoking a dull cigarette while staring into the flames of the fireplace. The music and laughter muffled by the thick, wooden doors. The heat filled the room but Thomas was still as cold-hearted as ever. Thomas was a smart man after all, but his weakness had just strutted through the door. Holding an even bigger vice than herself, right in her thin hands. Two crystal glasses and brand new bottle of whiskey. 

If his recent days hadn’t been so hectic he would have declined her advances and her offer to share a drink. And maybe he would have remembered the promises he made.

At the theater, the show was just starting. You sat in the second row, your son beside you to your left and an empty seat to your right. You watched in amazement and excitement as you spotted her on stage amongst the other swans. Her small height compared to the taller women giving herself away. She looked so beautiful and grown up it nearly made you cry. She didn’t show any sort of hesitation or insecurity as she hit every step, spin, and leap in tune with the orchestra. But in the back of your mind, you still wondered where Thomas was. 

“Why aren’t you out there? Arthurs’ just started singing,” She chuckled as she closed the door behind her, drowning out the loud noise and music. 

“Lizzie,” He blinked at her as she sat in the chair across from his desk. The red dress she wore exposed her shoulders and her long arms, the necklace that hung around her neck was shining under the lights. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked, sitting up and putting the cigarette out in the ashtray. Assuming she was inquiring about her job. She shrugs a bit, setting the whiskey and cups on the desk in front of him. 

“I just wanted to speak with you,” She reached for one of his cigarettes, and being the gentleman he was, he lit it for her. She continued to speak, but he began to drown her out. 

He eyes the alcohol for a moment before clearing his throat and reaching to check his pocket watch. He could have sworn he had somewhere to be, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

“I didn’t ask you to put anything on my schedule for tonight, did I?” He interrupted. It was unlike him to forget things so easily. 

“Um…” She paused to think, but it came up empty and she shook her head. “No, you didn’t tell me anything about tonight. Why, am I keeping you from attending something important?” She asked. His gaze was distant as he slightly shook his head. 

“I suppose not, now…what did you want to speak to me about?” He asked. He watches as she stands up to open the bottle and pour him a glass as well as herself. Watching him as he took a small sip, longing for his touch again…missing him deeply. Loathing him for what he did behind her back. But then again, she still wondered…

“Are you happy, Tommy?” 

“No…No not always,” He gruffly answered, but his answer was honest nonetheless. But, she already knew that. Everyone already knew that he wasn’t a happy person. After France, after Grace and Charles, after constantly worrying about losing his family. But then, there was you. You helped him little by little to gain that happiness again. To maintain that feeling of being alive. 

But that was only temporary when Luca Changretta had his family's names engraved on bullets. 

“But there are things in me life that help…still working on those things,” He said. Lizzie nods along. 

“What things?” 

“Being a good man…a good father,” 

She hums. 

“Yeah…kind of wished you worked on that when we were together,” She takes a deep inhale of her cigarette. And if Tommy Shelby wasn’t so cold already, her words would have cut him like a knife. 

“Why did you do it?” She finally asked after they sat in their silent tension. He set his glass down, looking away from her. 

“I wasn’t in love with you,” He told her honestly. She held her stare on him for a moment. Nodding bitterly. 

“You’re a fuckin’ liar,” She accused. Tommy chuckled as he leaned back in his office chair with a creak. 

“If you really didn’t love me, you would have let me marry John, or fired me after I spoke to your mistress, or wouldn't have given me this fucking job in the first place…so explain that to me, you at least owe me this,” Her eyes were glossy with hot tears. The blinder hesitated before he took one last finishing gulp of the whiskey in his cup. 

After the performance, you waited for her in the hall of the theater. She skips to you and Henry, already carrying a  bouquet of roses, wearing her boots and a coat over her leotard. Her hair and makeup are still on. She smiled brightly as you opened your arms to engulf her into a hug. 

“You did amazing!” You praised her proudly, letting her go as Henry stood beside you. 

“I saw you almost tripped,” He teased. 

“Shut up,” She nudged him 

“Henry that’s-” You started to scold the younger son before you noticed Elizabeth glance around the room. 

“Where is Thomas?” She asked, her smile was still on her face but you saw the faintest dismay. 

“He really wanted to come, Love but he got stuck at work,” You lied. You had hoped that was the case, but even you weren’t sure. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly. She stutters. 

“That’s okay, can we just go home? I’m starving,” You nodded, your arms over her shoulders as Henry held your other hand, slowly leading them out of the theater and to the car. 

At home, you tried your best to hide your disappointment in your fiancé, who still hadn’t shown up. But regardless, the three of you sat at the dining table as the maids served Elizabeth’s favorite dish. Roasted chicken, potatoes, salad, and bread. It was simple compared to the other dishes the kitchen staff make, but it was more than enough for your family. In her opinion, your home-cooked meals were better. 

“Did you know dad came tonight?” Elizabeth stated as she picked up her silverware. 

“Was he the one who brought the roses?” You asked, desperately wishing you could guzzle some wine to distract you from the growing stress in your chest. The feeling of dread coming and going with every ticking second on the clock.

“Yeah...he sat in the back, he saw me just before you did,” 

“That’s nice, darling I’m glad he came,” 

‘At least he made an effort, can’t say the same for Thomas,’ You bitterly thought. Your eyes were dark as you stared at your plate. Aggravation causes your appetite to greatly decrease.

“Should we wait for Thomas?” Henry asked. You shook your head. 

“Go ahead and eat,” You gave permission as you moved the food around your plate, attempting to at least eat. You, rather aggressively, cut into your chicken as your silverware clanked on the ceramic plates. Your children watched you, giving each other a knowing glance to not ask as they followed and hesitantly began eating. You heard the heavy footsteps of your fiancé walking into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” He apologized as he went around the table, rubbing Elizabeth's shoulder and tussling Henry's hair before he approached you. Henry fixed his hair as he smiled up at him while Elizabeth gave him the silent treatment. He placed a hand on your shoulder before kissing your temple. “Hello, sweetheart,” He whispered. Your lips form into a tight line before you acknowledge him. Your jaw clenched a bit as you refrained from pulling away from his touch. He sat down in his own seat across from you. 

“I’ve been trying to reach you for hours,” You stated, a hint of displeasure in your voice as you take a sip of water. 

“I was at work,” 

“All day?” You quickly shot back. 

“Yes, darling I was stuck at work and then I attended a very important family meeting,” His tone slightly changed, exhausted from his long day and the interrogation he had to go through with you. As he got situated, the only noise was your children eating and quietly whispering back and forth. 

“Well, Elizabeth did amazing tonight,” You reminded him after clearing your throat, keeping your eyes down on your plate. Thomas formed his lips in a thin line, internally scolding himself. He knew deep down he had forgotten something important. He glances at you but your eyes were elsewhere, the dead and tired look in his eyes showed only a bit of guilt as he looked from you to your daughter. 

“Elizabeth,” He called. She only continued to eat, not looking at him when he spoke. “I had a terrible and busy day at work today, but I apologize for not showing up tonight, I was really looking forward to seeing you,” 

Elizabeth just glanced at him. 

“It’s fine…” She simply said before going back to pushing her food around her plate. 

“You know, next time you’re going to be this late, I would at least appreciate a call,” You told him, quietly enough so only he could hear. 

“And next time when I have a shit day at work, I would appreciate it if you didn’t badger me the second I walk through the door,” He said in the same volume, but in a more apathetic tone. 

Your eyes scanned him, examined him as he just stared at his plate. Your eyes quickly scan your children before turning back to pick up your glass of water. 

“Eat some bread for Christ sake,” You hissed your Small Heath accent thicker than he had ever heard. Thomas widened his eyes a bit in disbelief as he started dismissively yet obediently eating the food on his plate.

“Henry, how was your day?” You asked him. He looked up at you and smiled. Thomas' gut sank at the change of pitch in your voice. The sweetness as you spoke to your children was like honey.

“It was good,” 

“And your lessons?” You pondered again. 

“I’m getting better, Miss Matisse says I might even have a part in the orchestra this year,” You smiled warmly at him. 

“I’m glad darling…what about you, Elizabeth?” You turned to her. 

“It was fine…just uneventful before the show,” You nod at her words. 

“What about you, Thomas?” You asked, sarcasm and accusations seeping from your words. 

“It was fine, (Y/n)...How was your day?” He feigned interest. 

“Oh, I think you should go first,” You mumbled.

“You can go first,” He scoffed, arguing. 

“No,” You set your silverware down with a loud clank and looked at him. Sharply lifting your head to make direct eye contact with him. Your eyes darkened as your tone and demeanor completely changed, it was something he had never seen before. “Tell us, how was your day?” You faked a smile at him as he just stared at you. His eyes are low and dark. 

“I said my day was fine…” He said back to you, spitting as much venom as you did. You heavily sigh through your nose. Bringing your water to your lips. As dinner went on, Henry had brought one of his toy cars to the table. Rolling the wheels over his napkins and silverware. The irritating squeaking of the wheels caused everyone at the table to feel vexed, but Elizabeth was the first to snap. 

“Will you stop?” Her brows furrowed as she looked at him. He grinned as he stopped momentarily before continuing. 

“Stop!” She shouted. 

“No,” He argued, sticking his tongue out at her. The two continued to bicker. 

“We all want to hear what happened to you today,” You said again. Thomas sat back in his chair, pressing his thumb and index fingers to the bridge of his nose. He pulled his fingers away as he stared at the nearly full plate before him. His mind was practically numb at this point, and the anger began to bubble up with every passing second. The frustration radiated in his head, jaw, and shoulders as he shifted to try to calm himself. The more you questioned him and the louder your children fought made his head ache and his jaw clench. Just then, Elizabeth grabs the toy car and begins to run around the table as Henry chases after her. 

“Elizabeth, sit down please,” You sternly, yet tiredly ordered. “Mom, she won’t give it back, make her stop!” Henry complained as she held the toy over his head, just barely out of reach. 

“Both of you come sit back down, I won’t ask you again,” 

They continued to chase each other and argue as Thomas sat in silence, the pending anger just waiting to be set off. The two children began to yell and whine. 

“Mom!” 

“Knock it off, let go of me!” 

“Stop it, both of you!”

“Stop!” They repeated loudly. Just as you were about to stand, Thomas abruptly stood from his chair, it loudly scraped against the floor as he slammed his hands on the table. 

“Shut the fuck up!” With each word he yelled, his hands came down to slam on the table. You covered your ears, startled by the sudden loud noise as Henry and Elizabeth stopped in their tracks, in sudden shock as they stared with wide eyes. The room was suddenly silent. You kept your eyes down at the table and your hands were on your lap. Upset and angry but not sure how to react. Thomas takes a deep breath to calm himself down. Hanging his head low before standing up straight. 

“I…I am so sorry, but you really need to listen to your mother, eh?” He asked. Breathing heavily, he takes a cigarette out of his pocket. He didn’t even notice the blood on his hand until he saw the red stain his sleeve, the table, plates, and silverware below. He simply uses one of the napkins to wrap it. 

“She asked multiple times to stop, you have to listen to her, she is your mother,” he excuses himself and leaves the room, a trail of smoke follows. You shakily stand up, giving your kids a tight hug, holding them into you tightly as you reassured them that things were going to be okay. You sent them to have a bath as you sat in silence at the table. Holding a hand over your mouth, feeling nauseated and shaken. You stand and slowly walk to Thomas’s side of the table. 

“Fuck,”

---

Tag List:

Read Pinned Post If You Would Like To Be Added

@violet-19999 @micarinitodemiel @dilfsandtherapy @shelundeadxxxx @dragons-are-my-favorite @trixie23​  @babayaga67​  @iambored24601 @heythere-06 @lothbrokcore @joliettes @just-a-throw-away

[acewritesfics]

I'm Yours | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: Yes from Wattpad

Warnings: Tommy's possessiveness. Featuring John Shelby 

Word Count: 680

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Why are you not ready yet?" Tommy asked Y/N who stands in her chemise looking through her closet.  

He stepped out of their bedroom's ensuite to see she hasn't gotten dressed yet. They are expected downstairs in 10 minutes for dinner with both their families. They are to announce their engagement this evening.  

"I still have 10 minutes, Thomas. No need to rush," she says causing her fiancee to shake his head and go back into the bathroom to finish getting ready himself. 

She decides on the beautiful red dress that she wore on their first date. He had taken her to the races and then out to dinner. She couldn't think of a better dress to wear. 

She's about to put it on when the bedroom door swings open revealing John. She holds the dress against her to shield her body. 

"Shit, I'm sorry Y/N." John quickly apologises covering his eyes as he turns his back to her. "Thought you'd be ready by now. Is Tommy in here?" 

"Thomas, your brother needs you!" She calls to Tommy. She keeps her eyes on John, making sure he doesn't turn back around before she's able to put the dress on. 

It was no secret Tommy's younger brother use to have a crush on her. John was the one that introduced her to Tommy, in hopes of her gaining his approval to join the family and maybe one day be a good fit to become his wife. Tommy not realising that she was the woman that John never shut up about, he pursued her and fell in love with her just as quickly as John had. She of course fell head over heels in love with Tommy, only seeing John like a brother. John got over when he married Esme, and soon fell in love with her but a little part of him still wondered what it would be like if Y/N had fallen for him instead of his charming big brother. 

"John, is everything alright?" Tommy asked walking out of the bathroom, putting his cufflinks in and standing between his brother and his soon-to-wife even though she was now dressed. 

"Polly wants to know if you've heard from Ada and if she'll be coming tonight," John informs him. 

"She will be," Y/N speaks for Tommy as she moves over to her dresser to collect her earrings. "She called me earlier, said that her and Karl will be here."  

John looks from Tommy to Y/N, his eyes lingering on her longer than they should as she hooks the earrings into her earlobes. 

"Is that all?" Tommy's voice came out a little harsher than he expected it to, his eyes glaring at his younger brother, as a warning. 

"Uh... Yeah," John nods, his cheeks warming at being caught staring. "I'll see you downstairs." He quickly leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. 

"Can you zip me up please, love?" She asks as makes his way over to her with her back turned to him. 

He obliges and steps closer to her, doing up her zip. He moves her hair to the side and kisses up her neck, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her tight against him.  

"I'm the only one whose allowed to see you half naked," he says softly into her ear, his voice stern, with a hint of possessiveness.  

She turns around in his arms. "I'm yours, Tommy. I have the ring to prove it. Just next time make sure your brothers know to knock before bowling into our room unannounced." 

"From now on, I'll be making sure those bloody doors are locked," He frowns glancing towards the doors. 

"With the way your brothers don't listen, that might be best," she jokes pulling out of his arms and turns to face him. 

Tommy pulls her back to him, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. "You're mine," he mumbles into the kiss. 

"Always," she kisses back before pulling away and leading her soon-to-be husband, the love of her life, out of their room and down the stairs.   

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Making Arrangements Part One

Masterlist | Part Two

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 6.1K

Notes: It's a two-shot! Part two will have explicit content.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Arranged marriage; mentions of prostitution; canon-typical attitudes toward sex; slow burn; enemies to allies to lovers; Reader has a brother and an aunt; no physical descriptions of non-canon characters; Reader gets drunk

Summary: If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

“D’you think you could bother to give them a smile?” 

On the face of it, it seemed a fair question, but all things considered, it made you want to punch Thomas Michael Shelby squarely in the jaw. You didn’t, of course—that conduct would be unbecoming of a bride in front of her new family. 

You’d been getting knowing looks from the women all night—pursed lips from Ada and Polly, and a wide smile from Esme. It was almost wolf-like, the way she watched you—welcome to the pack. 

“I could,” You conceded, nodding, casting your gaze around the party. The revels had only just begun. It was early enough that nearly everyone was coherent, on their feet, but you knew that in just a couple of hours, the party would likely turn to shit. These people would be drunk, coked out of their minds, dancing, and flirting…Probably fucking. You had no doubt that you would be expected to do your wifely chore that evening. 

Maybe that was why a permanent frown had been fixed on your lips from the time you’d put on your wedding dress, as you’d walked down the aisle, all the way through the fucking I Dos. 

“You’re still frowning.” 

You didn’t bother to hide your eye roll before you turned your head fully to look at him. He didn’t give you the same courtesy. He watched the revelers with the same bored speculation as you’d given them just moments ago. 

“And this is what your fucking grin looks like?” You snipped. He raised his cigarette to his lips, drawing in a deep drag that sank his cheeks. He managed to cast you a knowing glance, his brow raising. 

“It’s the most that you’ll get of me tonight.” 

“And of me. Don’t ask me to stoop to something that you won’t bother with. I’m your wife now. At least pretend to respect me in front of them,” You insisted, nodding toward the others. It took him a moment, but Tommy nodded. 

“And behind closed doors?” He asked. 

“That’ll be none of their concern. And you’ll have to take it up with me later.” 

“I intend to.” 

--  

You sat on the edge of the bed, and watched. All Tommy did was light up another damn cigarette. You weren’t sure if you married a man or a chimney. 

You could hardly believe that you had married the man at all. 

Your family had never been a big player in Birmingham, or Camden. You’d kept your head down, stayed out of the way, operated cleanly. When the Shelbys had come to you with a proposition, it hadn’t been for your minor operations in the UK—it had been for your connections in America. They were looking to expand, offered you a good deal, and a union between the two households. 

When it had first been brought to your attention, you’d thought that it was a pretty good idea. But when it came down the line that Thomas Shelby had specified an interest in marrying you, well—the thought had become less and less appealing. If you’d cared less for your family, or known less about the mounting tensions that they were facing overseas, you would’ve laughed the idea off. If you’d been involved with anyone, if there’d ever been a hint or a whisper of a beau recently, you might’ve been able to plead differently for your future. 

But you knew as well as your family that this was your best move, and with no great love waiting in the wings, there was nothing to be done but to marry the man. 

You secured your interests, the interests of your family. You gained a powerful ally—but you also gained powerful enemies. 

Tommy had spoken to you only once before your wedding day. The meeting had been brief, and he’d done all of the talking. He’d promised to protect you, sworn to never raise a hand against you. 

“You know as well as I do,” He’d insisted, “That this is the best way forward for our families. And I know,” He’d leaned in a touch, “That you want what’s best for your people.” He’d reached into his pocket and drawn out a small velvet box, setting it on the table before he stood, straightening his waistcoat. 

“You have until tomorrow night. I need an answer.” 

You’d sent him your reply—a single slip of paper sent with your brother Lewis that simply read: Yes 

“...It was a nice party,” You offered now, unable to stand the silence any longer. 

“You didn’t seem to particularly enjoy it.” 

“No one left with a bullet wound. In my family, we consider that a successful bash.” 

Tommy’s lips quirked just a touch as he nodded. 

“Our brothers seemed to get on,” You hedged, desperate to draw this out. You worried that once you stopped speaking, he may…Want to consummate the marriage. You weren’t sure how you felt about that. You’d heard rumors, whispers that Tommy was a good lover, but you weren’t sure that you were ready to find that out yourself. 

“They did,” Tommy nodded again. “Lewis and John already seem thick as thieves.” 

“Yes.” 

The two of you fell into quiet again, and it was a harrowing few moments before Tommy pushed himself off of the dresser. Your hands dropped instinctively to the bed, grasping at the sheets—but Tommy turned and went for the door. 

“G’night, then.” 

Your brow furrowed as you glanced around. Goodnight? But—

“Where will you sleep?” 

Tommy stopped in the open doorway, nodding behind himself. “I’ve a room down the hall.” He turned away, adding, “Shout if you need something.” 

You hesitated a few moments longer before you sprung up, darting forward and shoving the door closed before locking it. You drew in a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your forehead rest against the dark, cool wood grain. 

He didn’t take. 

You had gone into the room expecting shoving hands and a quick coupling, but Tommy kept his distance. You weren’t sure if you were more relieved or insulted. You turned away from the door, leaning back against it and peering around your dim new living quarters. 

Relieved, you decided. 

--  

Insulted, you decided. 

Tommy had the gall to lean in and peck your cheek when he’d come down to breakfast that morning. 

It took everything in you not to shove him away.

Polly made no comment on how wane you looked the next morning, nor did Ada or Esme cast you knowing grins or teases. They all watched Tommy, and the little slip of a shadow that you’d met last night—a birch-pale, dark-haired woman named Lizzie. 

You didn’t think that the news had made it back to your family—the fact that your husband had just spent his first night as a newly-married man with a prostitute-turned-secretary while you slept alone in an unfamiliar room wearing the lacy nightie that you’d bought specifically for your honeymoon. 

Esme and Ada excused themselves as quickly as they could, but Polly lingered, and offered,

“He’s a prickly sort, and these things take time. Men have their needs and urges.”

“...Right,” You pronounced crisply as you stirred some sugar into your tea, “And I’m a novice in a nunnery.” 

--  

“You should’a seen the girls at the party last night,” Lewis groaned.

For all of your irritation during the last few days, you’d been happy, truly happy to see your family enjoying themselves. Carving out your space in the literary scene of London and running a few underground print shops wasn’t exactly a serene existence. You constantly had to move operations, vet workers, stop-up leaks in production cycles and deal with snitches. Your entire family was dedicated to the business, but your brother was the most determined of the lot. Lewis had become the man of the house at a young age, after your father had been hauled into prison for treason. 

So to see him let loose a little—well, more than a little, truth be told—was a heartening sight. 

“I don’t think I would’ve quite enjoyed them the way you did,” You raised a brow, smile widening as he ducked his head bashfully, “But I’m glad you had a good time.” 

“And you?”

The pointed question came from just behind you. You didn’t dare turn to look at your Aunt Pearl. She knew you far too well. You could hide your feelings and concerns well enough from Lew—you had plenty of practice. But Pearl had been a motherly figure, a guiding hand in what would’ve been an otherwise rudderless life. She learned to read you like an open book when you were young, and you had been powerless to change the way that she understood you, even as the seasons of your life had passed. 

You turned your head back toward her just a touch, biting the inside of your cheek as you waited for her to go on. It was a few moments of quiet before she urged: “Lewis, go get some air.” 

You drew a deep breath in through your nose, fighting to steady yourself, and giving Lewis an encouraging smile and nod before he stood, pushing away from the kitchen table and heading outside. You saw him tipping his head back toward you, trying to catch on the line of questions that Pearl was about to level—as if neither of you knew any better to wait until he was fully out of earshot. 

“Who’s Lizzie?” She finally asked. You weren’t sure how to answer at first. You scrubbed your hand over the back of your neck, making sure that you heard the door shutting behind Lewis. 

“It’s just…Growing pains,” You finally offered, gaze set stalwartly on the table. “Every couple has them.” 

“Where was he last night?” 

“How should I know?” “He’s your husband. You’re supposed to know.” 

You didn’t have a chance to argue before she strode closer, her hand resting on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch, or draw away. You were used to her hand on your shoulder, her nails digging into your skin. She didn’t dig her nails in just now—she merely rested and waited. 

“Growing pains,” You finally offered again as you looked straight ahead. It was as if Polly had her hand on your other shoulder, and was staring you down in warning. 

“Pains?” Pearl repeated. “Physical?” 

You don’t want to answer, but—

“Emotional,” You blurted. It was another moment of quiet before she hummed. You stopped yourself from turning to look at Pearl—to catch the no doubt heavy judgment in her dark eyes, and the twist of displeasure to her small mouth. 

“I see.” 

“It’s early,” You insisted. She hummed again, stepping around you to walk toward the window. It didn’t take much to glance over, to see where Lewis was playfully fighting with John and Finn. 

“Do they know?” Pearl asked. 

“About where he was?” You shook your head. “I’m sure his brothers do.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” You scoffed. “It’s no business of theirs. Our marriage is between myself and Thomas.” 

Pearl turned to face you with a crisp smoothness, her eyes narrowed as she cocked a hip.

“And that’s all you have to say about it?” She asked. You pursed your lips. You had plenty to say about it, but it would land on deaf ears. Any of Pearl’s meddling would spell trouble, and you weren’t about to sic the dogs less than twenty-four hours into wedded bliss. 

“Yes,” You nodded firmly. Pearl’s eyes narrowed further before she hummed, turning back toward the window. 

“...This is good for us, Pearl,” You reminded her. “The Shelby’s are strong, they know what they’re doing. I just have to hold up my end.” 

“And what end is that?” 

“That of a doting wife.” 

“And mother?” 

Doubtful. Thomas couldn’t even be bothered to touch you as it was. But it was early, you reminded yourself. Things could still change. Things would change. They had to. 

“Perhaps,” You leveled evenly. “Someday. Time will tell.” 

“Time,” Peal repeated, nodding as she rounded you. “Well, if we’re going on time, so far, you’re not managing it particularly well.” 

You slid down in your seat a little as Pearl finally left the dining room. Your interest in the day’s paper had been sapped; your tea had gone cold. You didn’t want anything to do with Thomas Shelby, or with his family, not anymore. If you were going to make it through at least one year of marriage, you needed to nip this in the bud. 

-- 

“I need to talk to you.” 

Tommy didn’t so much as glance at you, his gaze trained steadily on a horse. You waited a moment, shifting from foot to foot, but perhaps you shouldn’t have waited. You’d spent nearly two weeks waiting. Maybe he hadn't heard you? You stepped a little closer and raised a hand to touch him. You couldn’t bring yourself to make contact, and your hand curled in on itself just before it could brush his waistcoat. 

“Thomas?” You pressed. 

“I’m busy.” 

“When can we speak, then?” 

“Tonight.” 

Certain that he meant it earnestly, you turned away and left.

But the evening came and went, and you found yourself sitting alone, stewing in front of your uneaten dinner and eyeing his empty plate. The house was too quiet, and your thoughts were far too loud. You needed to clear your buzzing head—you wanted a drink, and some fun. 

-- 

“You can’t let them push you around.”

The warning was spoken knowingly. You knew that she was right, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet Esme’s eye. Her gaze was so heavy, so all-knowing—nothing like the bright, uninterested gaze that Thomas often offered you. But Esme was having none of it. She dipped her head into your field of vision and clapped her hand over yours where it rested on the table beside your drink. You shook her hand away lightly, reaching for your drink instead. Maybe coming to the office to nip out of the bottle Polly kept in her desk had been a bad idea. But you couldn’t bring yourself to just sit in that house and rot in your anger. 

“No one is pushing me anywhere,” You grumbled.

Esme let out a soft, cruel chuckle. 

“I know what it is,” She insisted, “To come into this family and feel on the outside, feel that you don’t have a voice. Becomin’ a Shelby doesn’t erase who you were before.” She reached out again, taking up your drink and drawing in a deep pull before you could argue. As annoyed as you were, you knew that she was right. You nodded slowly, topping the glass up when she set it back down. 

“...Should I not bother replacing Polly’s alcohol, then?” 

Esme’s smile grew as yours did, and the two descended into quiet giggles. 

-- 

“We need to talk.” 

It was steely when it left you this time. Despite that, Thomas still paid you no mind. In fact, he went out of his way to take his time drawing on his cigarette before fishing into his waistcoat. He pointedly drew out his pocket watch, flipping it open and eyeing the time. The tick tick tick of the second hand passed for several long moments before he flipped it shut again, lifting his gaze to the hustle and bustle of the office around him. 

“Later,” He offered. 

Later, always later. Weeks of later, of hearing Lizzie’s footsteps and the creaking across the floor as she left the house before you were up and about for the morning. Weeks of sitting alone in that empty house, putting on a brave face for Pearl and Lewis. Weeks of anger and shame eating through your gut. 

“Now,” You spat.

He turned his head toward you, brows ticking up. You could feel the pace of the others in the shop around you slow just a bit, and speeding up again as Thomas shot them a glance.

“Alright,” He murmured, resting his hand on your lower back. You let him steer you toward his office, resolute in your irritation. He opened the door for you, waving you inside and shutting the door behind the two of you. 

“What is so urgent that you pulled me away from my work?” 

“Your work of watching other people count your money?” You quipped in irritation. 

“...What is it that you want to discuss.” 

“You need to keep your whoring private.” 

Thomas’s brows jumped with intrigue, his chin tipping down toward you.

“Explain.” 

“I understand that we went into this with our eyes open and a mutual understanding that the actions that we were taking were for the good of our families, but to the rest of the world, we are husband and wife. I will not ask you to stop your carrying on, as I can't imagine that you’d abide by it if I did, but keep it private. I will not step out on you publicly, and I expect to be given that same respect.” 

Thomas blinked before he straightened, pushing away from the door and stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray on the desk. He muttered something that you couldn’t hear, and you frowned. 

“Pardon me?” 

“Publicly,” He repeated firmly. “You said that you wouldn’t step out on me publicly.” 

“I did,” You nodded. 

“Do I get to know the lucky man’s name?”

Your face went hot with indignation. Was he trying to embarrass you? Whether he was or not, it was working. You folded your arms across your chest. 

“You’re missing my point.” 

“I take your point. You want me to treat you as my partner, and as my wife, you have that right.” 

“And will you?” 

“You can trust me to be discreet.” 

“I don’t trust you to do anything.” 

Thomas’ expression closed off, his eyes narrowing a touch, and your stomach twisted with nerves. 

“And might I ask why.” 

“What have you done to earn it? In our, what, two weeks of marriage, I have hardly seen you. You’ve made no point to acquaint me with your family or your business, and you’ve spent your nights down the hall with another woman. I’m not your wife, I’m a boarder.” 

Thomas considered for a moment before he gave a short nod. 

“I understand. I will make changes.” “Thomas—” 

“I will.” 

You pursed your lips together, pushing a sigh out through your nose before you gave a small nod of concession. 

“Alright.” 

“Anything else?” 

“...No.” And, just to seal the deal, “Thank you for your time. And for listening.” 

Thomas nodded, straightening up and opening the door for you. You strode toward it, and were nearly through before he rested a hand on your shoulder. You went still, turning your head toward him just a touch. Before you could get a good look at him, Thomas leaned in, brushing a kiss to your cheek. It was the most that he’d touched you since he’d kissed you the morning after your wedding. You thought that he may be making a show of affection for the office, but Thomas turned his head, brushing his lips against your ear.

“If I ever find out that another man has touched you,” He murmured, “I’ll take off the bastard’s hands and give them to you as an anniversary present.” 

You balked, shock wracking your chest as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he gave your ass a pat, spurring you into action and sending your scurrying back into the office, and out of his reach. 

--  

“It’ll be nice for you to fix up the place and make it your own,” Polly commented. 

“She was always going to get around to it of course,” Pearl insisted. You didn’t dare look away from the row of dressers. The one that you had in your bedroom was fine, but it was a bit small. You’d ordered several new pieces of clothing on Tommy’s account—well, on your joint account. Giving the name Mrs. Shelby had incited stunned, wide eyes from the shop keeper’s assistant and prompted fawning and a healthy discount. 

Still, as much as you were trying to bring your families together, you realized belatedly that in this case, it was an awful idea. Polly and Pearl had taken every opportunity to take digs at one another, leveling backhanded compliments with smug smiles and drags of their respective cigarettes. The two of them were so painfully similar, and perhaps that was why they seemed to hate one another so much. 

“Of course,” Polly echoed placidly.

“I want this one,” You pointed to the one in front of you.

“I’ll find the assistant,” Polly offered, brushing past you. You sighed heavily, shaking your head. 

“Please pull it together,” You muttered.

“I’ve nothing to pull together,” Pearl pronounced.

“Please,” You bit out again. “I can’t make any of this work if you and the others don’t, either.” 

You heard a deep sigh, chased by the tapping of her cigarette ash beside you. 

“I will be myself.” 

“I don’t need you to be yourself, Pearl. I need you to be pleasant.” 

A little knot of tension unwound as Pearl chuckled. 

“Becoming a missus really has given you fangs.” 

“I’d rather not use them, if possible.” 

“I understand.” 

“Thank you.” 

“...Are you going to give Miss Sourpuss the same talking-to when she gets back?” 

“Lord above.” 

--  

“You look like you’ve had a marvelous time.” 

Bringing Pearl and Polly to a somewhat peaceful place had been shock enough for that evening, but this took the absolute biscuit.

You might’ve yelped in fear at the sound of his voice if you hadn’t spotted the burning cigarette in the ashtray mere seconds before he spoke. As it was, you didn’t answer right away. You plastered yourself against the backdoor, your hands curled around your key and your purse. Thomas just arched a brow, expectant and silent. He wasn’t supposed to be there. You’d been told that he had business, and you had figured that once that had concluded, he would take care of other…Matters. You'd thought you’d have the house to yourself and have a nice cuppa before going to bed. 

You finally managed to push yourself forward, away from the door, your face hot with drink and embarrassment. 

“I didn’t think you’d be in,” You admitted. 

“You didn’t think I would be spending the evening in my own house?” 

“Esme told me there was a family meeting. She said that they can run late.” 

“You were misinformed.” 

“Clearly.” 

You watched Thomas warily as he drifted closer, going tense as he stepped around behind you. You hardly dared breathe for a moment, then let it out as you felt him slide your coat from your shoulders. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled as he stepped away with it.

“Were you with Esme?” He asked, tossing your coat over the back of a chair. 

“Mhm,” You nodded, taking a few steps deeper into the kitchen. “And Ada, Polly…And Pearl.” 

“Where were you?” 

“Polly’s house.” 

“Mm.” 

You watched Tommy round the counter, taking up a clean glass and a bottle of whiskey. You nodded, stepping closer. “Please.” 

He poured a good amount before setting the glass on the table. You sat down, watching him do the same. The light in the kitchen was low, casting an orange glow about the room. You felt almost like you were being interrogated as Tommy tucked his cigarette between his lips for another drag. You took your drink up in turn, giving your hands something to do. Besides, finding your husband at home had harshly staunched your blissfully tipsy mood, and you were desperate to get it back. Tommy made no comment as you took a deep swig, and you fought away a wince at the taste and burned as you gulped it down greedily. 

“How was the meeting?” You asked.

“Fine…Would you like to know what it’s about?” 

“If you’d like to tell me.” 

You figured he would let it go there, but he gave a short nod, offering: “We’ve reached a trade agreement with your man in New York.” 

“I’m glad to hear it.” 

“Lewis can fill you in on the particulars later.” 

Your brows jumped. “Lewis was there?” 

“The business concerned him, I made sure he was in attendance.” 

“I’m sure he appreciated it.” 

He hummed, leaning back in his seat. You took another deep swig from your glass, but you couldn’t bring yourself to draw your gaze away from Tommy’s. He seemed so relaxed—though, maybe it was absurd to find a man relaxed simply because he had removed his suit jacket. Still, he looked irritatingly dashing in his waistcoat. 

“Tell me about yourself,” He ordered as you lowered your glass to the table. You cleared your throat, shaking your swimming head to try and clear that, too.

“Pardon me?” 

“Well,” Tommy plucked up the bottle again, topping your glass up. “As you have reminded me, you are my wife. I ought to know something about you.” 

“...Are you drunk?”

His lips quirked with a small smile. “No. But if you keep on like that, you will be.”

“I’ll be fine.” 

“If you say so.” 

“I do say so, thank you.”

“I have to be drunk to want to learn about my wife?”

My wife. It made you feel oddly warm as he said it…Though perhaps that was the whiskey. 

“We didn’t exactly have the most conventional courtship, or wedding,” You reminded him.  

“All the more reason for me to learn about you now.” 

“I don’t know where to start.” 

“How about with the things you like.” 

“I will tell you,” You nod slowly, “But only if you tell me about yourself in turn.” 

Thomas seemed to purse his lips before he sat up in his seat. He held his hand out, the gold of his wedding ring glinting in the light. 

“You have a deal.” 

You hesitated for a few moments, certain that he was putting you on. But when he didn’t draw it back, you raised your hand in turn, grasping his and giving it a shake. 

--  

The first hint of light made you wince and turn away. Your mouth was obscenely dry; your head was pounding harshly. You groaned, rolling away from the window. Oh…You did not feel good. Your head felt like it was going to burst; your stomach rolled like you were taking a rocky transatlantic crossing. Oh, god…Were you going to be sick?

You peeked an eye open, then squeezed it shut again. Oh, no. You weren’t sure which was worse, having your eyes open or keeping them closed. You hesitantly opened both eyes, then groaned more loudly, tucking your head beneath your pillow. No. Having your eyes open was definitely worse. 

You heard a harsh thudding, as if a giant has managed to get into your room. What on earth—

The pillow lifted away, and you tipped your head up into the cool brush of fingertips against your forehead. 

“How’s our Sleeping Beauty?” 

You weren’t sure what flustered you more: the teasing tone of Tommy’s voice, or the way the word beauty sounded coming out of his mouth. 

“Right as rain,” You mumbled. “Or I will be, once you stop yelling.”

His chuckle brushed your forehead. 

“Pearl is on her way to look in on you. Apparently Esme is doing just as well as you are this morning.” 

“I don’t wish this on my worst enemy.” 

“Rest up.” 

“I wasn't planning on doing anything else.” 

“Good girl.” 

Before you could ask, or argue, or throw a hand out to slap him on the shoulder, he brushed a kiss to your forehead, then drew away fully. You listened to the retreat of his footsteps, a pause, the scraping of the curtains being drawn closed, and the gentle scruuuuuuh—thump of him shutting your bedroom door behind himself. You only dared look around after a few minutes, when you were certain he was gone. You rolled onto your back, sighing and trying to ignore the thud-thud-thud behind your eyes. 

You feel like hell, but last night was sort of…Nice. 

Drinking with the girls and breaking down some of the barriers before your families had been a success, but coming home to Thomas was…New. It wasn’t unpleasant, as you would’ve previously thought. You scrubbed your hand gently across your eyes, trying to recall your conversation. You had it in bits and pieces—his love of horses, his devotion to his family, his worries for Arthur and John. You wondered if he told you those things because you’d been spifflicated that he didn’t think you’d remember a damn thing. But you remembered. 

You remembered the almost kind way that he’d smiled at you a couple of times. You remembered the way he’d taken your hand and led you up the stairs, steadying you when you’d wobbled and taken uneasy steps. You remembered him turning his back as you’d gotten undressed, waiting for you to get into bed before bidding you a goodnight. 

A knocking on the door drew you up from your recollection, and you winced at the sound. 

“Yes?” You croaked. The door opened, and to your surprise, two heads poked through. 

“You’re in a state,” Polly chuckled before Pearl opened your door the rest of the way. The two entered your room, each eyeing the furnishings that were soon to be replaced. You pushed yourself up, wincing as your head spun. 

“Had a night, did you?” Pearl settled onto the bed beside you. 

“Could you lower your voice, please,” You grumbled. 

“Did you go right to bed when you came home?” 

“I meant to.” 

“But you didn’t?” Polly chimed in. 

“No.” You winced as you raised your voice just a touch. “I…I had a conversation with my husband.” 

Polly and Pearl cast one another curious glances, so unlike the cutting looks they’d leveled at one another just a couple of days ago. 

“It was fine,” You added. “It was…” Nice? Enlightening? Something you would be happy to have again? “Cordial.” 

“Was he drinking?” Polly plied.

“We both were.” 

Polly and Pearl each hissed, chased by sympathetic tuts.

“You should’ve quit while you were ahead,” Pearl admonished. 

“I certainly know that now.” 

Polly took another look at you before she patted Pearl’s shoulder, offering, “I’ll put the kettle on.” 

“You’re a saint,” Pearl smiled. You sagged back against the headboard, scrubbing a hand over your brow as Polly disappeared.

“Since when are the two of you so friendly?” You asked. Pearl shrugged. 

“We’ve come to an understanding…As you have with your husband, apparently.” 

“I think it may be a very different kind of understanding.” 

“D’you mind if I smoke?” 

“...I don’t mean to sound harsh, but if you smoke, Pearl, I will be sick.”

“Better out than in.” 

“Please, no.” 

-- 

It wasn’t every night—it wasn’t even most nights, but you began to spend time with Thomas. It started with him coming home just as you finished dinner, and progressed to Thomas making it home just in time for dinner. Conversation wasn’t always freely flowing, and a few of those first dinners were a little quiet, and awkward. But as you spent more and more time together, those silences became more and more rare, and when conversation wilted, the quiet was comfortable. 

You still slept apart, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d heard Lizzie creeping out of the house as you awoke. Maybe she’d managed to work out which floorboards didn’t creak; maybe Thomas had stopped having her in the house…Or having her at all. 

You were certain that the second possibility was the most likely. It still wasn’t the ideal situation, but you appreciated it all the same. Not only had Thomas kept his promise and been discreet, but he was taking the pains to distance you from his romantic liaisons. It was…Almost sweet, all things considered. 

--  

“...What are you reading?” 

You jolted at the question, sucking in a gasp and dropping the manuscript that had been in your hand. Thomas’ brows rose as he walked deeper into the sitting room. 

“You scared me,” You grumbled. “How long have you been here?” 

“A few minutes. I called out twice when I came in.” 

“Oh,” You frowned. “I’m sorry, I must not have heard you.” 

“Clearly.” 

He walked deeper into the room, taking up the fallen manuscript and sitting on the green velvet settee beside you. You let your gaze linger, sweeping over him. His jacket had always been removed, though his waistcoat was still intact. His cool eyes swept over the page, brow furrowing a touch as he took in the content. His head began to turn toward you, and you hurriedly stood, rounding to the bar cart. 

“Would you like a drink?” You asked. 

“Sure.” 

You plucked up the bottle of whiskey, uncapping it and pouring a good amount. You rounded back to him, holding the glass out. He crossed his legs, resting the manuscript against it before he took the drink with one hand, patting the seat beside him with the other. You lowered yourself back down hesitantly, acutely aware of the way your thighs brushed. 

“What is this?” He asked, nodding toward the pages. 

“A book that was sent to us.” 

“Topside?” 

You smiled a little. Topside was how your family had always referred to the legitimate side of your publishing operations. You were certain that you and the others had said it around Tommy and his family before, but you were surprised he remembered. 

“Yes,” You nodded. 

“D’you like it?” 

“Ah…” You considered before you blew softly between your lips. “I’ve read worse.” 

“I’m not sure if that’s an indictment or praise.” 

You chuckled. “It’s got a good frame, but the writing is unpolished. Could be good, with a little bit of work.” 

“Will you work on it yourself?” 

“I may. Need something to do with my time.” It felt like the wrong thing to say as soon as you said it—but Thomas simply hummed, turning the page as he lifted his drink to his lips. 

“Redecorating hasn’t been enough of a challenge?” He asked after a moment. 

“Well it was, but I’m nearly through. The only room in the house that I haven’t touched is yours.”

“And why is that?” His eyes slid toward you, and the sudden shock of blue made your stomach flip. You shrugged a little, shaking your head. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to.” 

Thomas nodded before he turned back to the pages. The two of you fell into silence, and you leaned in a little, reading over his shoulder.  

“...Dinner’ll be ready soon,” You told him after a few moments. He nodded, blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, away from you. 

“What’re we having?” 

“Roast chicken.” 

“Vegetables?” 

“Potatoes and carrots.” 

“Gravy?” 

“Of course. I’m not an animal.” 

Thomas huffed a soft laugh through his nose. He turned his head toward you a little, his lips brushing your temple. The touch made your eyes slide closed, your stomach fluttering at the sensation. You were so caught up that you nearly missed what he said next:

“We’re going to London tomorrow.” 

You frowned, glancing up toward him. “Why?” 

“I’ve a meeting.” 

“A meeting that involves me?” 

“I want you with me.” He turned his head a little more, nuzzling lightly against your hair. “Besides, it’ll be good for you to get out of the house for a bit.” 

“I get out enough.” 

“I think you could do with a bit more.” 

You hummed thoughtfully before you leaned away, patting his thigh lightly. 

“I’ll go check on the bird.” 

You only managed to get up and take a single step before Thomas caught hold of your hand. You glanced back as he raised it to his lips, brushing a tender kiss to your knuckles. The action was so small, yet so intimate that it made your breath catch in your throat. He gave your hand a squeeze before letting go of it, letting his arm drift up to rest on the settee. You turned away, hurrying toward the kitchen. 

Once you were alone, you braced your hands on the counter, drawing in a deep breath and pushing it out again. Your skin seemed to tingle where he kissed it, and you glanced down, as if you could see some discernible change. You shook your head, shaking your hand before you turned to the oven. 

Dinner, get dinner together. You could worry about Thomas’ touch and the trip to London later. 

Next Part

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[chaosinkest1996]

First Kiss

Summary: This is one of Lilith Rose Shelby's firsts. One of her childhood/Teenage experiences/adventures. A boy from school wants to take Lilith to the picture house, but she's not sure if she wants to go with him....because she likes someone else.

The character of Scarlet Shelby belongs to @zablife.

TW: Underage. Kissing. Violence.

The year was 1915.

It was quieter these days as Lilith walked home from school. The men had gone to war a year ago and as such the women had taken on their roles as breadwinners. The streets were quieter and that only made the noise, when it did come, seem louder. It was warm. One of the warmest summers she’d ever experienced. Her cotton shirt clung to her skin annoyingly and beads of sweat gathered at her temples. She’d grown a lot this last year. At fourteen her figure was slowly shedding its childishness and becoming more womanly. Her hair, now shoulder length shone black like a raven’s feathers in the golden sunlight. She must have been the only person in small heath who seemed at ease. She was happy…and that made most people uncomfortable. There was a war on. Surely she should be worried. Her sunny disposition, however, had engaged the attention of a boy at school. George Kimber was only a year older than Lilith. He was handsome…or so the other girls at school said as much. Lilith wasn’t bothered. At least, not at first. Up until George, she’d only ever looked at girls. She used to stare at Esme Lee a lot, fascinated by her. One day the gypsy girl caught her looking and Lilith blushed before stalking ahead of her and pretending it hadn’t happened. After that Lilith became more guarded with who she looked at and who she acknowledged. She kept herself to herself. which was why Lilith was taken aback when George Kimber swaggered up to her in the schoolyard that very afternoon and asked her if she would go on a date with him to the picture house. Ever confident, like his father, he’d taken her startled expression and silence as a ‘yes’, smiling and winking at her before returning to his school friends. And now here she was on the way home from school, questioning whether or not she actually wanted to go.

     Rounding the corner and onto Watery Lane Lilith smiled when she saw Finn and Ada stood at the door waiting for her. Finn squealed when he saw his sister and ran towards her. Lilith laughed at his fast waddle and wrapped her arms around him when he barrelled into her boyishly. He almost winded her.

      “Careful Finn!” Ada called. “You’ll knock her over one of these days.” Finn smiled toothily up at his sister mischievously as she ruffled his hair. She had a sneaky suspicion that that was the game. The two siblings walked the rest of the way hand in hand. Ada smiled and ushered them inside. With Scarlet away at war, she had only her eldest sister for company

     “Good day at school?” She asked.

     “Not sure, really.”

     “What happened? No one’s been bullying you again I hope.” Ada frowned as she led them into the kitchen and closed the doors to what had once been the betting shop.

     “A boy asked me to go out with him.”

     “Oooh!” Ada gasped, delighted. “What boy? What’s his name?”

     “George Kimber.” Lilith dropped her bag on the kitchen table, rifling through it for her homework. Ada’s face fell.

     “Billy Kimber’s boy?”

     “One in the same.”

     “What did you say?” Ada asked nervously.

     “That’s the problem.” Lilith sighed as she slumped into the kitchen chair. “I didn’t.”

     “You didn’t what?”

     “Say anything.”

     “Pardon?” Ada tucked her hair behind her ear and crossed her arms.

     “It all took me by surprise. I was just reading in the school yard and he ran up to me, asked me to go out with him. I was so stunned and…. confused.” Lilith pored herself a glass of water.

     “Confused?”

    “Yes. I’ve never really noticed him before. I mean, I have noticed him. I know who he is. I’ve just never looked at him the way most of the other girls have looked at him.” She took a sip. “So I didn’t say anything…or rather I didn’t have much time to think about it before he took my lack of an answer for a ‘yes’ and walked off.”

       “Bloody typical. He sounds a little entitled. Well, like father like son, I suppose.” Ada scoffed. “You know; Billy Kimber hasn’t even gone to the front. Fucking coward.” Lilith ignored that line. She knew it must have been bad that Billy Kimber had somehow wormed his way away from being conscripted to the front…but secretly she was jealous of George. She wanted Tommy home.

Why did Billy Kimber get to stay if Tommy had to go? Selfish bastard.

Lilith swallowed her resentment and looked at Ada pleadingly.

     “Now I don’t know what to do.” Ada took the seat beside her sister.

     “Would you like to go out with him?” Lilith leaned back and thought about it for a few moments. All the other girls at school liked him and said he was handsome…. or as handsome as a boy could be at the age of fifteen. But Lilith herself didn’t exactly think he was an oil painting. He was obnoxious as well, over confident and bullish towards their peers.

      “No.” She decided. “But I suppose I’ll have to.”

      “You don’t have to do anything.” Lilith considered the prospect of turning him down tomorrow at school and cringed. No, that would be horrific. He’d be humiliated, everyone would talk about it. Lilith did not want to be held responsible for making her family enemies with the Kimber’s.

      “I know. But I don’t want to hurt him. I’ll pay him the respect of pretending to consider him as a potential suitor.” Lilith joked. “And I’ll let him down at gently after a nice evening. Besides, who knows. We might even make friends.” Ada didn’t look too convinced.

      “Lilith, sometimes you can be too nice. You don’t have to-.”

      “I know.” Lilith snapped. “But I’ve made up my mind.” She took out her workbook and began to ignore her sister. “You can go now, Ada.” Lilith didn’t like the description Ada had given her. Nice? When the fuck had she ever been described as nice? Nice was a word used to describe the mousy, shy girl at the end of the street. Nice was a word used to describe a dinner cooked well enough by someone who had cooked it a thousand times over. Nice was a word used to describe a cottage in the boredom of the English countryside. Nice was not a word used to describe Lilith Rose Shelby.

Ada scowled at her sister’s dismissal, grabbed a magazine and stalked out of the room.

*****

Polly was downstairs pacing. She had not been best pleased when the two sisters had informed her of Lilith’s impending date. It certainly didn’t help that the potential target was a Kimber. Tommy would be livid. Lilith could relate to her aunt’s anger. Of course it would be different if the men were not at war. Tommy and Arthur would for sure have put a stop to it and John would have threatened the ginger haired lout to within an inch of his life.

     “You’re not going out with that boy!”

     “I think you’ll find that I am.”

     “You don’t even want to go.”

     “That’s beside the point.”

     “Seriously?! You’re worried about his feelings?!”

     “On the contrary. I’m doing this for-?”

     “For what?!”

     “Us!” Polly scoffed and Lilith picked up a book and threw it at her. “He’s Billy fucking Kimber’s boy!”

     “Language!” snapped Ada.

     “Don’t be a hypocrite Ada.” Polly snarked at her.

     “If I humiliated him then I’d have made us a target for Kimber in the future. There’s no one here to defend us.” Polly had grumbled but reluctantly agreed and now Lilith stood in front of the looking glass as Ada finished pinning her hair. Polly had altered one of her mother’s red dresses for her to wear. She stared at her reflection curiously. It stared back.

     “You look pretty.” Ada whispered when she’d finished.

     “Do I?” She asked. Is that why he’d asked her to go out with him? Because she was nice to look at. It must have been. He’d never even had a proper conversation with her. He didn’t know that she was intelligent or cunning and sly enough to kill him without anyone knowing that it was she who had done it. Her reflection smirked coldly back at her through the looking glass, onyx eyes twinkling wickedly. If he just wanted a pretty doll then that’s what he’d get…a beautiful, terrifying little doll who by the end of the evening would have scared him away from her and all women for the rest of his life. Polly caught eyes with her through the looking glass and smiled.

     “There’s the Lilith I know.”

*****

He was a floppy haired idiot. It waved around his ears like some kind of spaniel as he walked with her towards the picture house. Her small gloved hand was locked tightly in the crook of his arm and she was starting to get pins and needles in her fingers. She clutched her clutch bag closer to her. She’d done all the right things. Smiled, giggled, taken all of his condescending little compliments on how pretty she looked and how lovely she looked on his arm. Either he wasn’t very bright or he just didn’t care both were bad signs. The only moment he’d conjured up a genuine smile from her was when he had presented her with a ticket for a Charlie Chaplin film. She sat beside him in the theatre, savouring her popcorn and resisting the urge to kick him in the shin as he loudly crunched on his at the speed of sound.

What a pig.

The film started and her shoulders dropped in relief when he ceased inhaling his popcorn. She was enjoying it. Charlie Chaplin was hilarious and very clever. When Thomas had taken the family to see him in London she’d thought he was fabulously entertaining. Not to mention rather handsome beneath all that stage makeup. It had been one of the last times the whole family had laughed properly. His success in the film making business pleased her. A laugh bubbled inside her before she froze. Lilith immediately became very aware of George’s arm around her shoulder. She stiffened directly when his fingertips brushed against her bare arm. An unpleasant shudder shot through her and she closed her eyes for a moment fighting every urge to flinch away. The theatre abruptly appeared to shrink and it felt like they were the only two people in the room. except they weren’t. when she peeked out of the corner of her eye, Lilith was aware that there were people everywhere. When the film finally came to an end Lilith stood quickly, turning to address George.

     “If you’ll please excuse me. I need to use the facilities.” She didn’t even look at him. Her eyes darted around him, refusing to make eye contact. Her stomach churned as she turned from him and scampered off without giving him a moment to respond. She disappeared out the back of the theatre and into the ladies’ lavatory. Closing the bathroom stall she opened her eyes and took a moment to gather herself.

What is the matter with you?!

Lilith had no idea. All she could think about was the rats that scuttled across her skin when he touched her. Had it been accidental? She frowned. No. If it had been he would have surely apologised.  She tried to think, to distract herself. What had happened in the last six minutes of the film? Surely he would ask her what she’d enjoyed the most about it. Alas, everything about the film had blurred when he’d touched her.

Get a grip, Shelby. The sooner you get on with this, the sooner it’ll be over.

Lilith exited the stall, marching out of the toilets with fresh determination. The floppy haired fool was waiting for her in the picture house restaurant. He smiled at her, but it didn’t look like a smile to Lilith. Instead it looked more like a sneer. He passed her a Coca-Cola in a glass bottle and she sat down in the booth opposite him. She sipped her beverage silently. She watched his lips move, alas he did not ask her what she liked about the short film. In fact, he didn’t ask her anything. Just talked at her. His lips moved, forming words ceaselessly, but she wasn’t listening. It was all just noise to her. The horrible part came when he abruptly got up and slid into the booth beside her. Lilith shifted away slightly, looking to give herself a little bit of space. George shifted with her. He leaned towards her, reaching a hand out to brush a lock of hair behind her ear. Lilith, uncomfortable with how close he was to her, sat stock still, hoping that he’d pull back. He didn’t. It was when his nose brushed against hers that she realised what he wanted. She recoiled.

Absolutely not.

Lilith’s fingers fumbled with the clasp on her clutch bag. Before George could even press his lips against Lilith’s she felt him freeze when he heard the clicking of a gun as she cocked the hammer and pressed it against his groin. He pulled back a little to look at her in disdain, his features twisting hideously in anger.

    “Move away from me please.” Lilith smiled as politely as she could. Her pearly teeth on display, glistening like weapons in the lamplight. “I don’t want to kiss you.”

    “No one says no to me. I’m Billy Kimber’s son.” She didn’t know why that made her laugh. But it did. It bubbled inside of her like something hot and poisonous. What was he trying to achieve? The audacity she had to both reject him and to laugh at him must have flabbergasted him because the expression of absolute shock on her face in the seconds before it twisted into something more sinister caused the laugh inside of her to bubble to the surface and she let out a vindictive little giggle.

     “That attitude won’t get you anywhere, Georgie.” She laughed. “You really are an entitled little brat, aren’t you? You can’t handle it when someone says ‘no’.”

      “You little gypsy slut!” He snapped at her, before lunging at her. He wrapped one strong hand around her wrist, squeezing it painfully in an attempt to get her to drop the gun. She held tight, determined not to let go. She knew this was a bad idea. Is this what he did with other girls he took out? Is this what would happen if they also rejected him? She didn’t have time to ask as he wrapped his other hand around her throat and squeezed. She spluttered and coughed, trying to wriggle away from his as fast as she could. But in spite of how lanky he was, he was very strong. It frustrated her as she grew lightheaded. She gripped the hand around her neck and dug her nails into his flesh. The boy gritted his teeth but refused to let go. She was beginning to fear that the last thing she’d ever see was his face when something incredible happened. A band of red bloomed out of nowhere, a beautiful velvet ribbon. She watched, transfixed as delicate fingers wrapped the ribbon around George’s neck and squeezed mercilessly. The boy instantly released his grip on her, his hands flying to the ribbon crushing his Adam's apple. As Lilith’s vision cleared and became less blurry, her eyes locked with Esme Lee’s. The Shelby girl blushed and sat upright, steadying herself against the table.

      “Are you ok?” Esme’s sweet voice rang in her ears. Lilith nodded and Esme released George from her grip. Esme scowled down at the ginger-haired boy and snapped at him. “I think this date is over George. Go home to Daddy now and leave her alone if you know what's good for you.” stepped out of his way and Lilith nearly choked on a laugh as he bolted for the exit door. They watched him leave.

       “Thank you,” Lilith murmured, looking down as she tremblingly returned her gun to her clutch bag. She looked up and found Esme staring at her. “What?”

       “You’re too pretty to go out with him.”

       “Oh.” Lilith licked her lips, nervous. She hadn’t been expecting the compliment. She blushed and said the first thing she could think of. “You’re pretty too.” Esme laughed and offered Lilith her hand.

      “Come on. Let’s get out of here and have some real fun.” Lilith looked at her proffered hand for a moment and felt her heart flutter. The red ribbon Esme had used to strangle George was now tied around a braid in her hair. Lilith was taken aback at just how beautiful Esme really looked. She took Esme’s warm hand with her own and the Lee girl’s fingers hugged her own. The two of them ran off into the evening without looking back.

*****

Lilith laughed. She couldn’t believe her luck.  She was dancing around a large bonfire, under a starry sky. Hand in hand with wilful, wild Esme Lee. Lilith couldn’t bring herself to look away from the girl before her. Esme’s hair fluttered in the breeze, the red ribbon in her hair standing out in the warmth of the firelight. Her eyes sparkled with joy and laughter. Her laugh was girlish and carefree, the tone of it caressing the inside of Lilith’s ears. Everytime Esme had spoken, Lilith had felt herself become warm and breathless. Esme’s skirt dances in the breeze, the embroidered flowers against the black fabric reaching out to Lilith in an open embrace. Their hands were clasped as they danced and sung together beneath the summer sky.

      “Enjoying yourself?” Esme asked, her soft lips curling into a gentle smile as she locked eyes with Lilith. The Shelby girl nodded vigorously. This was infinitely preferable to the picture house. This was the best she’d felt in a long time. Interest nudged at her.

      “How did you know I was at the picture house?” Lilith asked curiously as their dancing slowed into a sway. Esme stopped dancing and glanced over at the Vardo at the edge of the party. It looked empty. Esme tugged Lilith towards it and she followed without question. The two girls climbed inside and Esme closed the door behind them before they both settled on the rug beneath them. Lilith sat, admiring the room.

      “I saw him ask you in the school yard.” Esme answered softly, hypnotically. “You didn’t look comfortable so I thought I’d check in on you.” Lilith’s heart jumped.

      “Thank you.” She murmured. “You didn’t have to do that. We don’t know each other well.” She swallowed as Esme’s chocolate eyes speered her own. Her mouth was becoming dry and she really needed to drink…. something. A thought occurred to her. “Wait. You were watching me at school?” Esme chuckled and reached out to clasp Lilith’s hand in her own. Her thumb caressed over Lilith’s soft skin and the Shelby girl’s pulse jumped.

      “You didn’t think George Kimber was the only person who fancied you, did you?” Esme shifted a little bit closer. “You’re a very beautiful girl, Lilith.”

      “But-.”

      “I thought you might have been interested in me that day I caught you staring.” Esme began to pull away, looking uncomfortable and a little bit hurt. “I’m sorry if I was mistaken.”

      “No Esme.” Lilith reached for Esme’s hand again. “You weren’t mistaken. I just didn’t think you’d like my attention. You’re so, so-” She struggled to find the word, “...breath-taking.” The two girls were huddled close together now and Esme reached up to tuck a stray hair of Lilith’s behind her ear. They beamed at each other giddily.

      “Can I kiss you?” Esme whispered suddenly into the space between them. Lilith shyly nodded before Esme’s soft warm lips brushed against Lilith’s and her breath hitched. Her heart pounded and she blushed, absolutely certain that the Lee girl could hear it. Lilith grew bold and kissed Esme more firmly. Esme leaned in, warm sparks tingling in both the girl’s lips and faces. They pulled back a moment later and smiled.

*****

The Lees lent Lilith a horse and she returned to small heath. She hummed happily as she slid off the white stallion and handed him over to Uncle Charlie with strict instructions to allow the horse to leave the way it had come after it had eaten.  She slipped back into the house and skilfully avoided Polly and Ada’s awaiting interrogation.

      “He won’t bother me again.” Lilith smiled. “I’ll explain in the morning.” She was firm, even when they pressed her for more details. It wasn’t until she was lying in bed, humming herself to sleep that she felt it. Her fingers reached up to caress Esme’s velvet ribbon tied around her throat…a promise between two young girls. She smiled as sleep carried her away. The world was wonderful again.