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#birmingham bombing
dynamitekansai · 5 months
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Via Jade Cargill's Instagram Stories
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normalbrothers · 4 months
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the idea of getting a peaky blinders themed tattoo is so hilarious to me i would not do that, but i'm imagining a guy rn getting that silly undercut and then tattooing 'by order of the peaky blinders' on one of the shaved sides and how big of a beeline i'd make around him, etc
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The Birmingham Church Bombing Occurred in Alabama, Killing four young Black Girls. September 15, 1963.
Image: The four girls killed in the bombing (clockwise from top left) Addie Mae Collins (14), Cynthia Wesley (14), Carole Robertson (14), and Carol Denise McNair (11). (Wikimedia Commons.) On this day in history, September 15, 1963, the Birmingham Church bombing occurred when an explosive device detonated prior to Sunday morning services at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama –…
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stairnaheireann · 8 months
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#OTD in 1989 – After serving 15 years in prison, the “Guildford Four” are released in what is considered to be one of the biggest-ever miscarriages of justice in Britain.
On 19 October 1989, Gerry Conlon stormed out of the Old Bailey in London, with his sisters Bridie and Ann, and delivered an extraordinary, impromptu speech that has become iconic in recent Irish history: “I’ve been in prison 15 years, for something I didn’t do. Something I didn’t know anything about. I’m a totally innocent man – I watched my father die in a British prison for something he didn’t…
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gravalicious · 4 months
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Dawoud Bey - The Birmingham Project (2012)
Source: Tina M. Campt - A Black Gaze: Artists Changing How We See (2021: 127)
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princessag-tv · 9 months
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Sixteenth Street Baptist Church In Birmingham Alabama Prepares For The 60th Anniversary Of The Youth Day Church Bombing
The Devastating AfterMath Of The Church Bombing The young girls were killed and over 20 others were injured in the church explosion at 10:22 a.m. That Sunday morning in Birmingham, the innocence of youth was shattered as the children prepared for the church’s “Youth Day.” The world mourned alongside the 8,000 people who attended the funeral. Riots that erupted in the aftermath of the church…
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if-you-fan-a-fire · 2 years
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I went out to the city streets, Because a fire was in my head, And saw the people passing by, And wished the youngest of them dead, And twisted by a bitter past, And poisoned by a cold despair, I found at last a resting-place And left my hatred ticking there.
When I was fleeing from the night And sweating in my room again, I heard the old futilities Exploding like a cry of pain; But horror, should it touch the heart, Would freeze my hand upon the fuse, And I must shed no tears for those Who merely have a life to lose.
Though I am sick with murdering, Though killing is my native land, I will find out where death has gone, And kiss his lips and take his hand; And hide among the withered grass, And pluck, till love and life are done, The shrivelled apples of the moon, The cankered apples of the sun.
- Roger Woddis, “The Soldier.” (1975).
[Quoting from analysis and thoughts by Adam Roberts here:
....Woddis’ pastiche of Yeats’s ‘The Song of Wandering Aengus’, published after the Birmingham Pub Bombings in 1975. You know the history, I’m sure: from 1973 onward the IRA decided to embark upon a campaign of bombing and assassination in the UK mainland (as well as continuing hostilities in Northern Ireland). Mostly they attacked what they deemed military and political targets, but not always. For example, on the 21st November 1974 they left bombs in two Birmingham pubs, neither of which was, in the jargon, a ‘legitimate’ target. Warning calls were botched, the bombs exploded, 21 died and 186 were wounded. What Woddis published in reaction is a brilliant poem that is, but is not only, a clever pastiche of Yeats.]
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digitalcreationsllc · 7 months
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Five great Benjamin Zephaniah collaborations you’ve probably never heard before | Juno Daily
Mala, Bomb The Bass and more worked with the departed bard of Birmingham When the death of Benjamin Zephaniah was announced yesterday, we lost the country’s premier poet and one of the sharpest political activist and communicators around. Like other leading poets to emerge during the era of punk rock – see also John Cooper Clarke and Linton Kwezi Johnson – Zephaniah had his rhymes set to music…
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birminghamuk49 · 7 months
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filosofablogger · 9 months
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Sixty Years Ago ...
It is my fault that I overlooked a very important date/anniversary yesterday, but by the time I was reminded, I already had both of my posts for Friday on the schedule.  Better late than never, they say, so today I am sharing the Substack post of my friend, Padre Steve Dundas, one of only two ‘men of the cloth’ whom I greatly admire and trust.  Thank you, Padre, for this excellent memory … Who…
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Alabama Church Bombing in 1963 Killed Four Black Girls
The Four Little Girls, victims of the Birmingham Church Bombing in 1963. Just 60 years ago, on a sunny Sunday morning, September 15, 1963, services began at the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama. The mainly Black congregation greeted each other with broad smiles like they did any other Sunday. It was also Youth Day and in the basement, 5 young girls, two of them sisters, gathered…
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tani-b-art · 2 years
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“SHE DESERVES JUSTICE IN THE FORM OF COMPENSATION FOR THE GRIEVOUS INJURIES, AND COSTS, SHE HAS HAD TO BEAR FOR ALMOST 60 YEARS,” HE SAID, PER THE NEWS OUTLET."
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stairnaheireann · 7 months
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#OTD in Irish History | 21 November:
615 – Death of Columbanus. He was an Irish missionary notable for founding a number of monasteries on the European continent from around 590 in the Frankish and Lombard kingdoms, most notably Luxeuil Abbey in present-day France and Bobbio Abbey in present-day Italy. He is remembered as an exemplar of Irish missionary activity in early medieval Europe. Columbanus taught a Celtic monastic rule and…
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Angel of Birmingham ~ Alfie Solomons x Reader
Summary: Before he meets Tommy Shelby, Alfie gets the pleasant surprise of encountering the lovely Angel of Britain, and from then on, he swears to always protect her from all the dangers of the world.
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If she were to ask herself who was the first to call her that - That undeserving nickname - She’d have to guess it might have been Arthur. He always had a way with words without realizing, and it all happened when they were children... More or less, considering she is closer to John’s age than his, and she would patch him up after fights and whatever marks of ‘good behaviour’ he got from playing around.
Seeing how great she was at taking care of him and his brothers, Aunt Polly suggested she tries to become a nurse or something. She saw potential in the little girl. Intelligent, charming, beautiful and pretty damn innocent. She shouldn’t stay too close to their dark side, it may taint her, and neither of the Shelbies wanted to see her upset. She was too much of a ray of sunshine and they desperately clinged to her and her kindness.
In the bleak midwinter.
But the girl was also highly ambitious and she didn’t want to settle with being a simple nurse - No, she wanted more. More and more and more. She was smart, she was greedy and she was a conqueror.
Veni. Vidi. Vici.
Until they received a beating sister with death and they suddenly opened their eyes towards the Godly truth in front of them.
She was going to become the only surgeon in Birmingham and she will succeed without a doubt, despite her young age.
The Shelbies already had connections with some important people so it was easier to deal with uncooperative people who dismissed her for being a woman and didn’t even look at her amazing knowledge and skills.
For a while, she had to be away and work in the London’s hospital as she studied medicine, despite her very young age. She hated being alone from her family and her second family, as she always called the Shelbies, but despite her timid personality, she still made some pretty good friends, albeit with the nurses, as most of the girls didn’t have the right connections and the money to bribe their way so high-up the medical field.
For now, that is. Y/N wanted to change the world. She aimed high and jumped higher. With the right money and influence, things will change. She was sure about that.
It was all going splendid for her, until the First World War began and her three Shelby brothers were enrolled - She was desperate to keep them home, but she knew she couldn’t.
So the next best thing was to go with them.
She was a doctor and they needed war doctors to take care of the wounded, so of course, she was accepted without a second thought.
She had to go to Verdun and to Somme, and she had to see so many people being brutally taken away from life - Bombs, gunshots, wails of anguish and despair, fear, cries, agony and shivers.
If Y/N could describe war with a single word, it would be simply ‘Hell’. 
There was no better word to describe it, without a doubt, and an angel in hell always gets her wings burnt horrifically painfully.
She prayed day and night for her three brothers to be alive and well by the end of all this, at least physically, since mentally, she knows neither of them will be the same, that’s for sure.
And this hell went on for four agonizing years that went by, day after day, at an alarmingly lethargic pace, as if time and space were enclosed into a continuous loop of no return, a dark void from which they will never return.
But they did.
And when they did, they were welcomed with hugs and kisses and lots of love from their families...
Yet they reciprocated with a dead look in their eyes.
They died in War, and this was just a second attempt at living, like a dead man roaming the world again.
The worst that happened was Tommy getting shot during his tunneling, but Y/N made sure he would be treated properly, and yet, there was one thing she couldn’t do, no matter how perfect her healing skills were, and that is to erase their mental and emotional pain and all the nightmares and PTSD they had to suffer from.
She tried to stay strong for them, to smile and be radiant as before, to try to take away some of their unseen pain, to talk to them, to sooth them... God knows they needed it. 
She would crawl in Tommy’s bed at forsaken hours and hold him tightly whenever he’d wake up screaming in fear, afraid that the shovels will breach through the walls and he’d get shot again, and she’d talk to him, reassure him and tell him he’s not there anymore and nothing will get to him again, she will protect him from any danger, and her wings were there to shield him.
She would leap out and hug Arthur from behind, dragging him away from murdering or fatally beating more men who looked at him the wrong way, so he wouldn’t lose control of his mind and body again, and she will shoo everyone away while she holds him and lets him cry out his fear and stress and pain.
And John... Poor John... Ever after being home, he was still in a state of shock, and he was so confused, and would look down at his hands, trying to wash them so much that he got burns and irritation, only to get rid of the ocean of blood that he created by killing hundreds of men, and witnessing a thousand more.
And yet...
There was nobody there for her.
Nobody to hold her down whenever she wanted to lash out into hysterics and tear everyone apart limb from limb. There was nobody there to reassure her that she didn’t fail anyone for not managing to save the man split in ten pieces after falling prey to a bomb. That there was nothing wrong with taking lives as long as you protect your own. There was nobody to reassure her during a nightmare or embrace her protectively whenever she’d flinch, jump or panic from the louder noises or frequent gunshots all over Birmingham.
She needed a change. She was going further down and down, spiraling into the horrible abyss that the bottomless pits of anguish and torment she was succumbing to, and she knew that, no matter how much she’d smile and say ‘I’m alright’, she’d only drown deeper into her darkest despair.
And that’s how she chose to cope with all her pain. Work herself into exhaustion, study, practice, work, learn - Do anything but sleep or stay idle - As long as her mind was preoccupied with different things, there was no way she’d recognize her downwards descend into hell.
Thus, with continuous work, gunshot threatenings and more influence and bribes, she managed to become the Head of the Birmingham hospital, as the only capable surgeon in the city.
But now that she achieved this, she needed something new. She couldn’t fall into platitude, or she’d go insane. She constantly needed stimulation, because if she relaxes, even by a little, she will remember she is a human being with human emotions and that’s when shit will hit the fan hard, and she was afraid that was the point of no return.
So she extended her influence in London, went to conferences, met new people and ironically, the big hospital was close to The Angel and Camden Town and she became sort of an administrator - section chief around, so she could organize every patient and treatment the way she wanted. Everyone reported to her.
She was Britain’s Angel.
Things were going very well for her, she got a lot of money, people loved her, she was neutral with all the gangsters, mafia, police and every normal peasant or royalty - Healing did not discriminate against any social criteria made by the higher ups - And she had a very lovely, small house and a beautiful flower garden, a lovely maid who helped her keep things tidy, a decent car ( although she preferred walking ) and a few dogs to keep her company.
Another day, another struggle to keep on going. Y/N got up, drank her morning tea in peace while listening to the gramophone. She combed her long hair, letting it cascade down her back, completely disregarding the fashion of the Roaring ‘20s, and went to look at her wardrobe. She chose a black turtleneck thin blouse with high-waisted black pants, a pair of leather boots, some accessories and an elegant trench coat which she wore over her shoulders. It was Spring, so it wasn’t truly cold enough to dress warmly, but not hot enough to wear a sundress either.
The most peculiar thing happened while walking to the hospital - She heard a groan of pain from a dark alley and going to investigate, she saw a fair haired man whose white shirt was stained with red.
“Is it yours?” the woman asked him as she carefully stepped in front of him, completely disregarding the two dead bodies from the ground.
“Some o’ it. Most o’ it is theirs, poor fellas.” he tilted his head to the side left and right, almost comically.
“Fairs. Let’s get you to the hospital, I’ll treat your wound. Free of charge, of course. Let the state pay for something for once.” she chuckled lightly, extending her hand for him to take - To accept her proposal.
“Who are you, Miss? I don’t recall ever seein’ you ‘round. A new nurse from the hospital?” he asked as he almost skeptically stepped by her side, following her.
“Oh, yes, of course, I’m sorry, I forgot my manners. I am Y/N... I’m sort of the head of the hospital nearby. And, uh... I’m a surgeon.” she grinned at him serenely, almost as if to defy and shock him by his previous assumptions.
“A woman doctor, aye? Now that... That’s top. How’d ya do that? I thought they didn’t accept women at University ‘n such.” despite his words, he seemed genuinely interested and wasn’t mocking her.
“Well... Yes, not wrong. And I want to change that. Hmm, how do I explain this without scaring you away... I’m a pretty smart cookie I guess!” her laugh was crystalline and lovely, and if weren’t for the pain from the bullet he took, he would have laughed as well rather mirthfully.
“That you are, lass, I’m sure.” he grunted as he nodded, a bit robotically.
“Ah, we’ve arrived. Before we go in, are you from a mafia gang or something? Some social... Political... Something? It’s not that I care, but I have to put people in different wings for their own good, you know?” she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers a bit.
“I’m not sure I understand, lass.” he raised his eyebrow, analyzing the soft-spoken woman, trying to understand her intentions, whether they were good or bad.
“Well... My hospital accept everyone, you know? But at the same time I don’t think most people want to be rooming with coppers. Or... I know there are some gang wars around... Italians and Jews I think, or something like that. To put some Sabinis and some from Solomons’ gang in the same room, I not only fear for their lives, but also for the good of the rest of the patients and my hospital, you get me? That’s why I at least have to ask. Who knows, maybe I have some of your peers around for you and you can chat and feel better together.” she shrugged at him, feeling a bit uncomfortable being stared like that by him.
“Alright, alright, I get it, lass. Let’s go to the Jews, right? Y’got some o’ those, don’t ya?” he asked, following her as he watched her smile and greet sweetly every person she was walking past.
“Oh yes, of course. Yesterday came a boy called Oliver... Oh, I mean Ollie. He gets upset when I call him by his full name. And there’s this one called David. They said they work for Alfie Solomons, so I put their occupations as bakers. Would you like me to do the same for you as well?” she asked as she hurried inside the room and asked where he would like to stay, and thus preparing the bed.
“Ye even got flowers ‘round ‘ere. This looks more like a home than a hospital if y’ask me.” he chuckled softly as he let himself fall down on the bed, taking off his shoes.
“Oh, yes! Studies show that if patients feel welcomed and are well taken care of, they have higher chances of recovering at a much faster pace. I wanted to test this theory, so I made a contract with the flower shop down town to always bring me flowers. Isn’t that lovely?” she smiled sweetly at him, which rendered the man speechless and in awe.
“Boss, what happened?!” suddenly, Ollie’s worried voice resounded through the room as he leapt from his bed, by the mysterious man’s side.
“Just some dead fish, don’t you worry, lad.” he downplayed his injury as the woman watched the wholesome exchange between those two.
“Oliver - Uh... Ollie, I mean, forgive me. I have to extract the bullet from Mr. Solomons’ body. I will have to ask you to please not worry, I promise to save him, okay?” why was this woman so sweet with everyone? Was that how a doctor should be? Or was she just some exemplary woman?
“...Alright, miss...” the boy muttered, dejected as he watched the woman leave the room, no doubt to get the right equipment for the extraction.
“Honestly, lad, you worry like some maiden. Let the girl do ‘er job.” the Jewish boss chuckled reassuringly at the tall brunet boy.
“She’s no girl, Mr. Solomons. She’s Britain’s Angel. Haven’t you heard o’ her?” Ollie went to sit on the boss’s bed, leaning down to whisper in his ear.
“That’s ‘er? Really?” Alfie’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quite understood now why she earned the reputation.
“Aye! She grew up with the Peaky Blinders and their influence and bribes got her into University, but she’s like super smart! I ‘eard they call her Angel or somethin’, especially after her services in the War. Can you believe that?! A woman voluntarily enrolling into war?! That’s insane, who’d want a free ticket to hell?!” Ollie’s voice became a bit higher as he gossiped with his boss.
“Someone who wants to protect her family.” a feminine chuckle broke the conversation as the two Jews snapped their heads towards the entrance, seeing her casually leaning back on the wall, looking at them with an amused expression, mock-reprimanding. “Don’t you know it’s not nice to gossip?”
“Sorry, lass. This one has quite the chatter mouth to him! ‘e just can’t seem to ever shut it!” his over the top gesticulation, among with Ollie’s shocked expression made the girl hide her mouth to laugh as she shook her head and pushed the tray with the needed instruments to Alfie’s bed.
“True. If he didn’t call you Boss, I wouldn’t have known who you were, Mr. Solomons. Now, I would have to ask you to let me unbutton your shirt so I can begin the procedure. It won’t last long, and with the local anaesthesia, you won’t even feel a thing... For the most part, at least.” she chuckled awkwardly as she sat down on his bed, smiling calmly at him.
“Nah, lass, no fancy ana-thingy, I want none o' that. Ain’t gonna get some drugs to put me down. I’ve been through this before in war, right, and ya didn’t have anaesthesia in war either, so that’s that.” as he said those things, he immediately noticed the smile disappearing from her face as a dark look flashed before her eyes that used to sparkle with fake happiness.
“It’s local anaesthesia, it won’t make you sleep. Besides, I used cocaine in war. It still works. Don’t be like that, Alfie. Please.” she seemed to almost desperately want to use that numbing solution for some reason.
“Why do you insist on going against your patient’s wishes, miss doctor?” he challenged her, narrowing her eyes, as if he was trying to peer into her mind.
“I can’t stand people’s raw cries. You heard Ollie. I’ve been to war, but a part of me never returned home. If I can do something to absolve the pain from someone, I’m gonna do it, whether they like it or not.” her dark voice seemed to make a complete 180 from the sweet one from earlier.
“Do you do the same with coppers too, lass?” his light question, as he unbuttoned his shirt, came as a begrudged agreement to her proposition.
“Nah. I just hit them over the head with a bottle of alcohol. Works every time.” her devious, vague smirk made him wonder whether what she was saying was true or not.
“Now that -- I really wanna see that, right. Would’ya call me next time you gotta do that?” Alfie chuckled as he attentively watched her gently wipe the blood from his skin.
“It’s usually a spontaneous decision, really. I get impulsive too, sometimes, you know? I’m not perfect. But, should the time come, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to have an audience that would be pleasantly surprised by my act of aggression.” she smiled softly as she carefully administrated the novocain around the area where he got the bullet.
“So where’d ya serve?” he asked, as the girl encouraged him to talk and get his mind away from the procedure.
“Somme and Verdun. I asked to be deployed as close as possible to the Shelbies... I’m sure you got that by what Ollie just told you. Y’know, the tunnels Tommy dug and all that? Wasn’t fun. And you, Alfie? ... Ah, actually, forgive me, I shouldn’t address you so casually without asking for your permission, I got ahead of myself. You can call me by my first name too. I prefer it that way, kinda. It’s more casual and light-hearted.” she chuckled awkwardly - Alfie realized she wasn’t the best at social interactions. He wondered if this was just how she was, or it was a post-war effect.
“No, s’all right, ya can call me Alfie, no problem. I was a Captain in war, right, I was a Captain and I led tons of lads to their death, yeah, but we killed more than we got killed, so that’s that, I guess. Meddled with gas’n’bombs’n shit like that.” Despite trying to keep things light hearted, he noticed the upset look on her face.
“As long as you’re alive, anything is justified.” She muttered, more to herself than to him as she started poking the area under anaesthesia to see if it got numbed down properly.
“Oi, lass, how about I tell you a story, aye? ‘S pretty funny, I reckon.” He suggested, seeing as she smiled softly and nodded at him, putting on her gloves, ready to extract the bullet old-school.
“Sure, Alfie, I’d love that.” She gave him a quick look as he fingers dug inside his wound, making him flinch.
“So, this happened during war, right. My regiment had some nasty Italians around, and they pissed me off so fucking much, yeah. Well, I tell ya, I once carried my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” He used one of his hands to gesticulate wildly, as if to keep her engaged in the story whilst he grunted from the discomfort and pain he felt as she rummaged inside his wound.
“Ohh, the Italians. This is going to be a very good story, I’m sure. What did you do?” her smile widened slightly as she felt the bullet shards and started extracting them one by one, putting them on a napkin until they all formed a complete bullet.
“Listen, Y/N. Listen, right. I pulled his face up against the train and shoved a 6 inch nail up his fucking nose and I hammered it on with a duct board, aye.” As he told his story, Y/N had to turn around and slouch a bit, unable to contain her laughter.
“Oh my God, Alfie, that was horrible!” but despite the words used, she just laughter harder.
“It was fucking biblical, lass, I tell ya!” his voice went a bit higher, as he started chuckling as well.
“Okay, okay, say that again, but this time slower. I-I want to imagine – To, to get a better image of this in my head. “ no matter how much she tried to hide her laugh, she couldn’t, which only fueled his wish to amuse her.
“So, this fucking margherita bastard came to me and started throwing around those cross fingered hands back and forth like he wanted th’ gouge my eyes out o’ somethin’. Just! Like! this!” Alfie started aggressively mimicking the Italian hand gestures as the girl had to put down the needle and thread from shaking so much.
“G-Go on!” she encouraged him quickly.
“Yeah, so, listen, I grabbed him by the fucking head, yeah, and I saw this bigass nail, like this big, and shoved it up his nose, y’know, like the fuckin’ Egyptians hooked the brain out through the nose, right, with the mummies and shit.” He had no idea why, but he really enjoyed making her laugh like this.
“I think I’m getting a nose bleed just by imagining this!” she covered her face entirely as she swung left and right from laughing so hard.
“He’s leaning back on the train now, yeah, and he’s hazy like he’s fuckin’ high on pepperoni or some shit, and I see this board just layin’ there on th’ ground, innocently, begging to be used somehow. So I pick it up nicely, yeah, I pick it up and SLAM it into his face. Once. Twice. Thrice. More. Dunno how many times, until I can’t see the nail anymore… But I guess, by then, he didn’t really have much of a face anymore, kinda just became a jam pancake or somethin’.” The girl needed a few minutes of laughter to calm down and wipe her eyes from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, I haven’t laughed so hard in my entire life. That was wonderful. I-I have no words. I can’t… I can’t… Okay, I’m good now, I’m good. But don’t say more stories, I won’t be able to sew up your wound if I laugh like that again.” She grinned at him, grabbing the needle and thread.
“Fine, lass, fine, I won’t say more stories today. How about you say one, then?” the Jew leader smirked at her with amusement.
“O-Oh, uhm… I-I’m not exactly the funniest person in the world, you know. Actually, I’m not even sure I know what to say. I’m a horrible conversation maker.” She chuckled nervously, as she continued to make knots and stitch the wound.
“Doesn’t matter, anything works, really! I just wanna hear an angel speak.” Mr. Solomons was truly an amiable one.
“Well, alright then, let me think. So, I think you’ve heard already of the Peaky Blinders and how there are quite a few Shelby siblings, yes? Well, they used to have a baby cousin, before he was taken away by some nasty coppers and put in foster care. I was also pretty young back then, but I remember Arthur used to throw baby Michael out of the window repeatedly for either John or me to catch. Mind you, it wasn’t the ground floor.” She chuckled lightly, remembering the stupid kid things they used to do before the war, when life was so simple.
“Really, now?! Poor lad, must’ve grown up with some serious height fear!” Alfie barked a laugh.
“That’s one thing. John put him in a shoe box and kicked him down Watery Lane. Sometimes when cars were passing by too. It was insane, really, growing up with them. But it was fun. If you ignore the copious amount of times we got in trouble and almost died.”  She mused, finishing the procedure and applying some marigold ointment before bandaging the wound properly.
“Thanks, lass, that was quite the experience. Well, I’ll be off then, I won’t bother you anymore, yeah.” He said, trying to get up, only to quickly get pushed down on the bed.
“No! You need to rest and get better, as well as that, you can’t do effort or brusk movements or you risk breaking the stitches.” She explained as he saw worry in her eyes.
“Let’s compromise, alright lass? I’m these guys’ leader, yeah, I’m the leader, so I can’t stay here, I ‘ave to go home’n all that. But I promise you I’ll take it easy and only do office work, yeah, that good? And to thank ya, I’ll even call you by the bakery, how’s that? Nice and warm fresh cookies? How’s that sound?” he asked, as he saw the girl clasp her hands together to her chest.
“Well… Alright then, I can’t really refuse you. But please do be careful. At least let me walk you home or something, I don’t think anyone will attack you if I’m around.”  She muttered, still worried.
“Oi, lass, I am the gentleman here, right, I am, so I should offer to walk you home, not the other way around, aye. Let me walk ya home and tomorrow I’ll come by with cookies.” as he got up, he was ready to button up his messy shirt, but the girl stopped him.
“Alright, Alfie, you win. Let me find you a new shirt, I’m sure we have some around. Before I leave, I have to check up on one of Sabini’s men. It will be pretty short, but I still have to make sure he’s alive and kicking.” The girl offered him a smile as she rushed out to find him a new blouse.
Much to his surprise, she returned rather quickly, even dressed in her normal attire, as when she first came by, and they were ready to leave that wing. However, as soon as they exited the room, the girl was pinned to the wall by none other than Mr. Sabini himself. Alfie was ready to react and throw him off her, but a stopping signal from her did the trick, albeit, he was still confused.
“Mr. Sabini. How many times must I remind you not to greet me in this inappropriate way? I lost count after twenty.” she smiled sarcastically at him as she roughly pushed him off.
“I simply cannot help myself around una fiore cosi bello! You have to understand me, mio angelo, it is your fault for being so beautiful. And how many times have I told you to call me my by name, bella?” The sleazy Italian smirked perverted at her.
“It is inappropriate to display such behaviour with your patients, as well as that, I do not feel comfortable addressing you in any way but the formal one. I will also have to ask you, again, not to use compliments with me, I will not, under any circumstance, accept your courting proposal. Not to mention, you and your men have your own ward at a completely different floor, so I will have to politely ask you to please stop bothering my other patients who have the same rights of being treated as you do.” Her voice was so cold and venomous, as a sword’s edge cutting deep into flesh. Alfie was shocked to see the angelic woman capable of such a demeanour, considering how sweet and shy she was previously when she was laughing so much that she started tearing up.
“But Y/N, amore mio, mio Tesoro, I can give your lovely hospital monthly charity cheques, to fund it, bring you only the latest technology in pharmaceutical and medical stuff! I can buy you anything you want, only say so, and I will bring it to you! I will –“ he continued boasting about his money until he got quickly cut off by the girl.
“Enough. I don’t need your money, Mr. Sabini, I have my own. Not only that, I will also really want to ask you to stop bothering me already. I have to remind you, you have been harassing me for quite a long time now, and I have all the right in the world to choose the patients I’m admitting, considering this is now MY hospital, and if you don’t stop your desperate cry for attention, I will completely eliminate the Sabini ward and divulge all your secrets to the other mafia gangs. And don’t you dare pull out your stupid gun and threaten me, I’m not afraid of you or of death. I already died in war, now I’m just living a second chance. Good bye, Mr. Sabini.” And with that, Y/N turned on her heels, motioning for Alfie and Ollie to follow her as the click of her shoes echoing through the corridors emanated the angry aura around her.
“So you’ve got the same kind o’ personal vendetta against those stupid Italians too, aye?” Alfie chuckled, hoping to lighten up the mood for her.
“Yep. That story from before – I’d do it with Sabini without thinking twice. Or I’ll have you do it, I don’t think I even have the physical strength to pick up a duct board. I have noodle arms.” She let out an amused breath as the Jew looked at her with a smile.
“Ya bet I’ll help ya.” And thus, they arrived in front of her house, being greeted, as usual, by her barking dogs who jumped on her from happiness.
“So… Tomorrow, yes? When should I be expecting you?” she asked, trying to pacify her excited puppies.
“Maybe ‘round noon?” and thus, the agreement stood and the girl waved at him sweetly as she went inside the house, followed by her furry babies. “Y’know what, Ollie? This one is a woman that comes once every thousand years. I dunno how Thomas Shelby could let go of her, but he can’t be as smart as he thinks he is.” Alfie chuckled, nodding to his right hand man to begin walking.
The next day, as expected, Y/N woke up early to make sure nothing is out of place everywhere in the house. Maybe it was her weirdly acting up over-perfectionism, but she couldn’t stand still if something wasn’t where it should have been.
After all, she hasn’t had visitors in… Well, never. It was always her who would visit the Shelby family, but other than that, she would meet up with friends in pubs and clubs, not at home.
Before she knew it, noon arrived and the sound of barking announced Alfie’s arrival. As she opened the house’s door, she noticed he was on the ground, getting loved by all the dogs.
Shocker.
“They say dogs can always tell a good person from a bad one. You passed their test, well done.” She gave him an amused side-smile, leaning on the door frame.
“Anyone who has so many dogs is trustworthy in my books.” He cackled as he got up, walking towards the girl, holding the basket up so the four-legged beasts won’t steal it away.
“I taught them horribly bad. They eat at the table with me, I cook for them more than I cook for myself. And now, look at them, those rascals, they will do anything for food as if they’re famished! Spoiled brats, I’m telling you!” she smiled as she removed the flower vase from the table and poured some tea, aromatic and very nicely smelling.
He admired the tea pot and the matching cups – They were a soft, light blue with painted pink flowers. – Very cute, he thought, and very fitting to her own sweetness. He’s seen so many women affected by the bitterness and anger of having to be unheard, submissive and mistreated, in this ugly, monochrome, wet Britain, so meeting Y/N was like a breath of fresh air, completely different, not afraid of being as sweet and kind as she wants, without implicating herself in any trouble or business and just doing her own stuff.
“Tea, lass? I haven’t had tea in ages, yeah.” He chuckled as he carefully put the plate of still steaming cookies along with some challah bread.
“…Oh. I forgot most people prefer alcohol. Oh My God, I’m so sorry, I don’t have any kind of alcohol in the house-“ she freaked out a bit, only to be stopped by Alfie’s chuckle.
“I’m a tea guy too, lass, don’t worry so much over silly things like that, right? Tea’s fine too. What’s it got?” he asked, easing her worries quickly.
“Vanilla, cinnamon, cherries and a bit too much honey. I like sweet things.” She smiled at him as she raised the tea cup and clinked it to his. “Cheers.”
“Sweet things like you, little lady, love things just as sweet, yeah? Cheers! It’s quite nice, aye, not bad, not bad at all, I think I’ll want more.” He blinked in surprise as he saw the girl immediately get up and pour more tea into his cup.
“Woaw, Alfie, you’ve made these? I’ve never eaten chocolate chip cookies before! They’re amazing! And this bread… It’s so soft and it tastes like honey! If you ever wanted to stop your underground business, you could definitely make a fortune opening up your own bakery! Imagine this… Alfie Solomons, the sweetest man in all Britain, loved by every citizen, earns a Royal Warrant from the Queen for baking the best cookies in the world!” Y/N praised the man as she ate what seemed to be the 4th or 5th cookie by now.
“Bah! Who cares ‘bout that old hag with a crown on her head? If the right person likes it, it’s all that matter, right, nothing else matters to me, and you already like my baking, so that’s that, yeah, that’s just that!” Alfie laughed, making the girl in front of him make a cute kitty smile and look down, her cheeks becoming just a tiny bit rosy.
“Alfie, now you’re just being too nice with me. You don’t have to do that just because I treated you.” She chuckled softly, surprising the man.
“You think I’m being nice to you because o’ that? That’s silly of you, lass, yeah, very silly, that’s not the case in the least, that’s just who I am!” he protested vehemently, his golden chain bracelet clinking softly with each movement.
“So you just like me? Just like that?” her eyes widened in shock.
“Why’re you looking so surprised, lass?” his voice became gradually much calmer and sweeter, seeing the genuine emotions from her.
“Oh, I just… I haven’t heard that in quite a while, I guess that’s why. Apart from the doctor work I do, and all the people thanking me for saving them, I don’t have much social interaction, so someone saying they like me for  my personality, as Y/N, not Britain’s Angel who saved them, is… You know… Unexpected.” She admitted, smiling shyly at him.
“How would you like to hear another story?” it’s true that he wanted to see her so bashful in front of him, but he also loved hearing her laugh, so why not give it a try with one more of his famous stories.
“Oh, I’d love that! You have the best stories, Alfie!” she immediately cheered up, putting her elbows on the table and resting her chin on her hands oh so cutely.
“Now, now, don’t flatter me, lass, it’ll go to my head, yeah, I’ll get used to you cute words.”  He leaned back on the chair, getting a better look at her.
“That just means I’ll have to say them more often.” Oh, how cheeky, Alfie thought as he grinned at her.
“Right, perfect plan! So, there you go! Tommy Shelby came by recently – Just a few days ago, right – And he, he started being a cheeky bastard with me, so I wanted to teach him a lesson. Got the gun out, cocked it in his face. I said – Look, let’s say I just shot you already, right, in the fucking face, and the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie made a finger gun with one of his hands, pointing it at the smiling girl, and then pointed behind her, where a pretty landscape painting was hanging.
“Oh, Tommy in London? I’m surprised he didn’t tell me anything about coming here, or at least visiting me. What a shame. I’m not surprised by his behaviour though, he’s become a bit of a jerk after the war.” She nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at him to continue.
“Right, it’s a shame, it really is, because that cabinet is fucked. I gotta get rid of it. So, what I do is this, I said. It’s fucking simple, mate.” And thus, he intertwined his fingers together on the table, playfully putting on the intimidating look of his.
“You burn it to splinters?” she tilted her head serenely like a cute puppy.
“Nah, even better. I cut that cabinet in half, don’t I? I do, I’ll just cut the cabinet, I cut… I cut the cabinet literally in half, mate, I said, and threw him a rag to wipe that bleeding nose of his. He was looking at me like a fucking dead body, lass, beaten up and bruised, by Sabini’s men, but still got the cheek to play coy with me on my turf!” Alfie told her the truth, knowing she’d want to know about her old friend.
“Tommy got beaten up by Sabini? What in the world did he do…? That boy never knows when to stop, does he. Anyway, so you cut the cabinet in half. Now what do you do? Throw it in the ocean?” she asked, quickly forgetting about the Shelby boy.
“No! I take half of that cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and take the other half of the cabinet, and all its pieces, and I put that into another barrel.” His hands shifted between left and right to show off imaginary barrels.
“And you fill them up with gun powder and make them explode in your enemy’s factory?” she grinned excitedly at him.
“Gosh, lass, no! But now I hate that you have more imagination than me! But listen – This barrel – I send this barrel off to… Mandalay.” He flapped his left hand around dismissively, making the girl bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. “And the other barrel off to somewhere like… I don’t know…” and he looked deep into Y/N’s eyes, unblinking and trying to come up with a funny city name, as she smiled with expectation for the punchline. “Timbuktu! You ever been?” the line was successfully delivered as the girl had to hang her head down and hide her face in her hands as she burst into laughter.
“Mandalay? Timbuktu? Where the hell are those?” she asked, unable to control herself.
“Fuck if I know, lass, but that’s the best of it! And y’know what? Know what, lass? I saw Tommy Shelby, right? Yeah, I saw him. All gloomy and dark and stuff. But I always thought he’d have a great, big, fucking gold ring in his nose!” Alfie joked around, and the girl was almost afraid she’d faint from laughing so hard.
“Oh, Alfie, you are the funniest man alive. So what did he say, how did he react to that?!” she urged him to continue.
“Nothin’! Nothin’ at all! He was silent as a fucking lake, lass! That Shelby boy has got no funny bone in his fucking body! Can’t even make a joke with him! Shoulda learnt from you, your company is a delight.” He saw Y/N quickly nod in agreement.
“Yeah, that’s right, Tommy has no sense of humour at all! He hasn’t smiled or laughed since the war. He’s changed completely. I know he’s been through a lot, you know? Everyone has. He still has that kind heart, and all he does, he does for his family… But it wouldn’t hurt him to be more genuine with them, or accept the fact that he’s not the only hurt one who can’t get over the war. I mean – I mean John, he’s my age! Got married, has like 4 kids already, married again and he’s still a brat as always! And you, Alfie! You said you were a captain, but you are the greatest person I ever met! He has no excuse for being a jerk. If he had a nose ring, like the bulls have, you could’ve just gotten a hook and tied him to a car and had him paraded around the streets of Camden Town!” she giggled in amusement, roasting her old friend shamelessly.
“Y’know lass, I think you’re as much of a fairy as I am, aye. You look all angelic and pure, but you have a wicked sense of humour!” the girl couldn’t help but let out a mock gasp of hurt and offense.
“Me? Wicked? Never! My, Alfie, you hurt me - How ever in this world could you possibly call me the Devil, when I’m known as Birmingham’s Angel? Recently, Britain’s Angel?” she laughed, almost as though she was making fun of her own nicknames.
“I think I’d much rather hear you being Alfie’s Angel.” Y/N’s smile froze, and her cheeks warmed up instantly, her gaze looking down at the tiny crumbles left behind from the tasty cookies. “Wha’chu say, lass?”
“I... Think I would like that very much, Alfie.” she could barely contain her timid smile.
“Wonderful news, lass!” Alfie merrily got to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, pretty Angel. Don’t forget to serve your little companions their dinner at the table, a’ight?” he bent down slightly to plant a small kiss on her cheek, a little ticklish from his bear, before nodding his head at her, a cheeky smile on his face, and he left, not without all the dogs desperately seeking affection from him.
“Alfie’s Angel, huh? Doesn’t sound half-bad.” Y/N giggles softly to herself, only to hear her maid coming out of nowhere and cheering for her for landing such a good man, though not without warning her not to get into trouble with the very many gangs and their wars. She was a sweet girl, Y/N thought - Perhaps Ollie would like to date a lovely lady like herself.
Many days and weeks, and even months passed, and Alfie visited Miss Y/N daily, never skipping a single day, or missing to bring her the prettiest flowers, and the freshest cookies and bread. He was going to spoil her rotten, that one, and he loved every bit of it, especially the shy look she always had on her face, and the hesitation of accepting so many gifts - He just loved pampering her, what could he do? It was in his nature after all.
And Y/N absolutely loved whenever he’d come over, and each day, with a new story to tell, and new jokes and rumours and gossips - He was an absolute delight, and her dogs loved him perhaps a little bit more than they loved her, at this point. It was no wonder, after all - Alfie started baking food for them! And Y/N thought she spoiled them! 
For once, Y/N stopped feeling the terrifyingly heavy pressure of anguish and torment weighting down on her very soul and being. She didn’t feel the need to work her mind into exhaustion, not tire out her body to the point of fainting asleep. She didn’t need to do any of those anymore, to feel alive and human. She only needed to look at those beautiful eyes of his, and those kissable lips, always forming a mirthful smile; to feel vitality returning into her body, and any sense of fear and anxiety escaping her very being. She remembered what it was like to have a sense of care and possessiveness over her own life, and finally, after so long, she wanted to be free - As free as it could get, unbound by any rule and regulation - To just have fun and thrive in the bliss of romance and happiness.
Once Alfie heard that, he kissed her sweet lips for the first time, admitting to wanting to retreat from the mafia life, and retreat to a calmer area where no one would be searching for him. Margate. A small cottage, cozy and warm, by the sea, where nobody would care to scold them for shooting those noisy seagulls, and Cyril and her dogs could run around aimlessly and run day in and day out, while they spend their time reading and baking and all the cutesy things that couples in love are supposed to do.
Before that, however, a few more things had to happen - Retirement wasn’t an easy process, after all, not in this business, and shrouding yourself into the veil of the unknown was even more difficult a task. People wanted their vengeance, after all, and they’d stop at nothing to achieve it. Nothing, including threatening the beautiful, benevolent Angel who was supposed to have neutral immunity from all kinds of parties. That is what she thought. That is what everyone thought. It was the catalyst of Alfie’s decision to speed up his retirement process and get this done and dealt with already. He never felt as angry as he was now.
It came during a time when Tommy rang Y/N asking for a favour, though rather uncomfortable. Alfie didn’t agree with this at all, he warned Y/N it would be dangerous - Deals with Italians were unpredictable, those bastards, and Sabini was a lecherous fuck who wanted to steal her away - But how could Y/N deny doing a favour to the man who helped her reach such heights though his influence? The man she went to war to protect? The man she took a bullet for? Her brother from another mother?
“Y/N, lass, you’re going to get fried to death if you approach that pasta fucker. I can’t just let you go.” Alfie grumbled worriedly. “And it ain’t just Sabini I’m worried about, love, it’s Changretta too. ‘course, all the fucking pizza fuckers came ‘round to screw things over, but Sabini keeps saying he ain’t working with that other fucker.” he paced nervously around the room, to and fro, fro and to. “Y/N, listen - Listen, a’ight? LIsten. It’s not Sabini I’m worried about, y’know? We’ve been at each other’s throats since school, it ain’t flash news, right -- I can deal with ‘im somehow -- But the other one? I know shit about ‘im. Came over from fucking America, and now he thinks he owns the whole fucking world, that one. And y’know what, hun? ‘e can fuckin’ have it, for all I care. Let Tommy Shelby fight with him. But you --- I’ll be fucking damned before I let him take you away from me.”
“Alfie, sweety, look at me.” Y/N got up from the bed, and approached the frantic man. She cupped his face and brought him into a tender kiss. “There’s no force on earth that can keep me apart from you. Besides! The hospital, remember? Even if Changretta comes over, I will just tell him of the deals, and the treatment and... He won’t hurt me.” without even realising, Alfie’s arms were wrapped around her smaller form, holding her close to his chest, pouting like a clingy child. “Alfie~! Come on, don’t tickle me with your beard! I promise I’ll give you attention all the after this is over, okay? But family is family, and I promised to help out. It won’t take long. And... It’s supposed to be some private party, right? A party with lots of people. He can’t just threaten me in front of everyone, right?”
“I don’t like risky things like this, Y/N. Can’t blame a man in love for worryin’.” He muttered against the skin of her neck. “But better tell Tommy I’m not gonna let him send you do his errands for him anymore, a’ight?”
“Alright, alright, I’ll tell him.” she couldn’t help her sweet, uncontrollable giggling, all because of him playfully running that trickly yet well kept beard of his over her soft skin.
Just as promised, Y/N dressed in a very pretty dress, making her look like an innocent, sweet flower blooming in Spring, overshadowing all around her with her beauty, thought there was no Tommy Shelby there waiting to escort her at the party. She didn’t think much about it though - She hadn’t a watch at her, so she couldn’t tell whether she was fashionably late or not, and he just went on ahead to do some of his work dealings with his gang friends. It was none of Y/N’s business, she was just supposed to be there as a peacemaker, a mediator, considering she was neutral with all, thanks to her position as the head of the hospital.
She grabbed herself a glass of champagne from a waiter and waited by the sidelines, watching the party unfold, with gorgeous dancers and the orchestra playing songs of all kinds. When a slowed song began, she awkwardly played the wallflower, not wanting to gain any attention to her, but of course, her not so favourite Italian came by, gallantly asking for a dance. Of course, she couldn’t refuse, more or less because she was a diplomat, and despite all the harassment from the past, all of them taking care in the hospital, at a party, it was all fine. Still, she hoped Alfie could have been there - It would have been more bearable.
“A gorgeous lady like yourself shouldn’t be all alone at a party.” Sabini said, making Y/N give a polite smile.
“Well, I was sure Tommy would be busy talking business with you, Mr. Sabini. I’m surprised you’re here, with me.” the man rose a quizzical eyebrow, hearing that.
“My dear, Thomas Shelby never once spoke to me today. In fact, I was not aware he was here at all.” Y/N’s body froze, and their dance stopped.
“What do you mean?” she asked in a whispery voice. “Tommy said he needed me here, as a mediator between the Peaky Blinders and the other gangs of London. If he’s not here -- Why would he ask me to be here?”
“Ah, bella, bella, bella, so your naivite and innocence only makes you more endearing.” he gave a smug smirk. “Luca Changretta asked your dear Tommy, to have a... Pleasant conversation. Negating deals. Business talks... Men talks. Signorina Y/N, he sent you over to receive a message, as he feared for his life, but counted on our long lasting friendship.” his chuckle sent shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she felt terrified for her life.
“I... Don’t want to get involved in your business matters. I don’t do business. I just heal people, that’s all. I wanted to do Tommy a favour, as he is my brother, but I want to have a peaceful life, away from all the gang wars. Please, let me go home, Mr. Sabini. If you want me to send Tommy a message, I will, but I won’t get involved any further than this.” the Italian nodded his head, an almost nasty smirk on his face. 
“By all means, no one wants to hurt you, Signorina. It would be terribly rude of us to kill the messenger... Though Signor Changretta’s father was ruthlessly killed, in front of his wife, for no reason, by your brothers. But us, bella - We, Italians, care for our family above all, and Signor Changretta admires your devotion to your own. He is going to love meeting you.” Y/N slowly removed her hands from the man’s shoulders and offered a small smile, trying to keep her composure. But she was terrified to the core, almost as much as she had been during the war. Not only did Tommy betray her, but he threw her in a pit of vipers... Like a weaponless gladiator, forced to fight a hundred starving lions in the Colosseum. She was a healer, not a fighter! Damn it, Tommy!
“It was a lovely evening, Mr. Sabini. I will be taking my leave now.” with a certain elegant swiftness, Y/N was able to slip past Sabini and hide her presence in the sea of people, trying to make her way to the exit of the grand mansion, only to bump into another man, much taller than Sabini was, and he was towering over her, a passive smile on his face. It was much clear now, the whole place was filled only with Italians. She was trapped.
“Signora, what kind of man was vile enough to make a woman cry? Tell me, please, I will not have such disrespect in my family.” his accent was heavy, and his aura was dangerous, with a mysterious darkness. The stranger rose a hand to cup her cheek and rose her face to wipe the wet, gleaming under eye of the woman.
“Uh... Forgive me, Mr... I didn’t mean to bump into you and disturb you. I... I am not a very sociable person, I don’t do well with crowds. I... Was hoping to return home.” she offered an uncomfortable smile. This man was trouble.
“Don’t worry, bella, I will make sure to discipline my men better.” he nodded, chewing on what looked like a toothpick... Or a match? Was that a match? “You will have to forgive them. Anyway, may I escort you outside and call for a car for you?” something made her feel as though she hadn’t any choice in the matter.
“Y-Yes, please.” she nodded meekly, her voice barely audible from all the noise of the party.
With his arm around her waist, the stranger gentlemanly escorted the lady outside of the mansion, and outside, into the darkness barely illuminated by the lights from inside the house. Were it not for the loud music and all the chattering from the mansion, the graveyard silence would have been entirely ominous, save for the soft cricket and toad melody.
They were all alone.
“Do you wish to kill me, Mr. Changretta?” Y/N asked, frightened out of her mind.
“Kill you? Oh, Signora, no, no, why in the world would I wish to harm an beautiful lady like yourself?” he let out a sardonic chuckle. “Sabini tells me they call you the Angel of Britain. May I call you... Angelica?” Y/N didn’t answer. “Have I frightened you so, bella? Mi dispiace, it wasn’t my intention.” though, based on the sarcastic slur of his words, he was having his fun tormenting her.
“Mr. Sabini said you wished me to deliver Tommy a message. What is it?” the woman asked, holding her hands together tightly.
“Ah, yes, of course. Very brave of Mr. Shelby, sending his dear sister to do his dirty work. How shameful. You see, bella, we never put our ladies in danger. Sabini especially says he’s taken a liking to you for quite some good years. I can see perfectly well why. I’ve never seen a woman beautiful and intelligent such as yourself.” Luca’s hand found itself caressing her face, his long fingers reaching up to her hair, strong her long velvety hair. “I love how you defy this decade’s fashion, though you manage to look more elegant than most.” he kept complimenting her.
“Mr. Changretta, please... I am already dating a man, and we are soon going to move in together. I would appreciate it dearly if you would not continue your courting, though I am very flattered that one like yourself would find me attractive.” the man looked up at the sky, a dry smile on his face, watching how the lady tried to step backwards every time he inched forwards, only to end up with her back flush against a tree.
“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that. You are far too terrified from the simplest gesture. Admit it, Signora, you’ve never been with a man before, have you?” his smirk only widened watching her face burning with a sweet blush. “You needn’t say any word, your body betrays you.” he chuckled, getting uncomfortably close to her. “I hate making ladies cry. My mamma taught me better than this. She taught me to respect and cherish women, for they are a treasure - And I agree. I will not hard you, Signora Y/N. But perhaps you need to be reminded of the importance you play in this gang war... And maybe even remind your dear brother, as he seems to have forgotten about you and how much you worth. Would he react at all, if I were to laugh in his face and tell him I’ve claimed you? Will he even get angry, if I tell him I killed you? Thomas Shelby finds himself to be rather the undefeatable businessman and politician, but from our latest interaction, I say, he’s a man as much as any other, and he has easily exploitable weaknesses. It is really too bad you had to get caught in the middle of all this. I bear you no ill will, Angelica.” he leaned his face closer and closer to her own, to the point of feeling his warm breath on her skin - She tried to move away, though he fixed her head, cupping her cheeks forcefully. He truly just wanted to steal a little kiss, nothing more! He wanted to get a taste of her pink, plump lips that looked like the softest rose petals, bathing in shiny morning dew.
Instead, the loud, resounding sound of a gunshot made the man close his eyes in anger, whilst Y/N squeaked in fear, trying to fall to the ground and defend herself; an awful habit she couldn’t break even after the war was over. Luca used the woman as a shield, one hand buried in her hair, the other, holding a pistol to her temple.
From the paved street the soft sound of a cane was heard, as Alfie Solomons appeared, looking all dressed for a party. He looked alone. Was it him who shot, or was it another? Surely, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to come by all alone, even if it was to rescue Y/N - And if he did, it only meant her worth was a hundred times more than he expected. Was he the man she mentioned just previously?
“Ah, Mr. Solomons, what an unexpected surprise. I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. I’m Luca Changretta.” the Italian smirked, chewing on that match, approaching his face to touch his cheek to Y/N’s. 
“Oh, yeah, I know who you are. You are a bit of a failure, aren’t you? You come all the way over here, to this country, yeah, in order to kill Tommy Shelby - But, I mean, well - He’s not dead, is he?” Alfie smiled fakely at the Italian, forcing himself not to look at the whimpering look of his beloved.
“He would have been, were he not saved by Angelica over here. But he cowarded out, didn’t he? Can’t even have a conversation with someone who hides behind his sister’s skirts.” Changretta sneered mockingly.
“That’s it. I’ll tell you what, right? I didn’t want to come ‘ere, in your home, without a gift, yeah? It woulda been rude - And Jews are known for their hospitality, of course. Here - It’s free. A souvenir.” Alfie rose a single bottle of his rum, showing he was unarmed. “Now, why don’t you let go of that lady over there, and we say our goodbyes?”
Changretta smirked darkly at him. “Signora, why don’t you take the bottle and have a sip? Rum is sweet, for women. Men prefer dry, strong gin.” with trembling hands, Y/N extended her arms to get the bottle from Alfie. It was almost excruciatingly painful, being so close to his protective arms, yet so very far away... “Go on, Angelica, take a sip.” Alfie frowned, watching Y/N’s face contort slightly - She didn’t drink alcohol, she hated it. Even if rum was sweeter than most alcohols, it still wasn’t anywhere close to her sweet teas with too much honey in them.
“This clown wants me to run his shit rum into New York.” Changretta let out a dry laugh, insulting the Jew in Italian.
“Damn fucking straight, mate, otherwise you wouldn’t still be thieving my oxygen and patience, would you? Because I have 200 barrels a month, yeah, cleared by your people, distributed through your teamsters.” Alfie continued with the straight business deal.
“Didn’t you just hear me? People want gin these days.” Luca repeated.
“I heard you wanted to come over with a proposition for me. I hate waiting, yeah - So, that’s why I came over, to quicken things up a bit, before they get stale, right. I already know what you want. I just want to hear you say it out loud so I can check how ridiculous it is.” Alfie inched closer to the two, not once breaking his overly dramatic mannerism.
“Ah, bella, what will I do, I am losing my patience with him.” Luca shook his head in disdain, burying his face in the crook of her neck. Based on the twitch of his enemy’s eye, he had hurried over with a half-baked plan. No doubt, Thomas Shelby must have gone over to him to search for an ally in him. To come in the enemy’s den for a woman - Alfie Solomons was a suicidal maniac. “There is gonna be a little fight, a boxing match, between your boy and Tommy Shelby’s boy, and the whole Shelby family is gonna be there.” Alfie hummed, already knowing all this. “And you, Mr. Solomons, you too will be there.” Luca started stroking a lock of Y/N’s hair, intentionally taunting the Jew. “You know, they say you’re a smart guy. You already know what we want before we say it. That’s funny because I believe I know what you want even before you say it. Yeah. You want the girl back, that’s why you’re here. Maybe for the barrels too. But the girl... Yes, I get why you’d want her back. Can’t miss out on claiming a treasure like her.” he pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering and going down, towards her ear, whispering a small threat and softly slipping the sleeve of her dress a little down her shoulder with the barrel of his gun, revealing flawless skin, before leaning down her neck, and to her bare shoulder. Y/N tried to struggle away from him, whimpering from the uncomfortable fear she was feeling, and how violated she felt by the Italian, but the tight grip on her hair only brought out a whimper of pain and disgust from her.
If someone could look deep into Alfie’s eyes, they could see a wrathful fire raging inside his soul. He wanted to make pasta sauce from that fucker for daring touch his sweet lady and making tormenting her so. He had to play his cards well, feign ignorance and uncare, otherwise, he was afraid that wop will be taking Y/N as a bargaining chip and blackmail him, to the point that not even Tommy Shelby playing God would be able to save the sweet lady. “I want some cash too. Don’t worry, ‘cause I’ve broken it down here.” from the pocket of his coat, he took out a neatly folded paper. “A list of costs pertaining to the assassination of a dear friend, all right?” from his other pocket, he took out his glasses, putting them on as he read the terms and conditions to their deal. “Now, a normal dispatch, well, it’s, you know, 500 pounds cost, but you’re going to have to have to add another 100 to that because Tommy Shelby, like me, is from an oppressed people... And... I need you to put another tonne on top of that because his brother is a fucking animal and he will come after me.” Alfie kept reading, frowning every so often at the inconveniences he was listing. “And then you will need to put another 100 on top of that, because, well, you’re a fucking wop, mate, hmmm?” Changretta remained speechless, looking at the mess of a Jew who found himself hilarious, messing with him. “And then... We have to deal with the ugly business of which I’ve been incredibly clear of, before I’ll need another 500 pounds, because, like I stated, Tommy Shelby is a very, very good friend of mine.” though he wished to wring his neck for throwing Y/N in danger like that. “And... Another 500 pounds for threatening my wife. And 500 more pounds for making her cry.” Alfie folded back the paper, handing it to his enemy. “Total is down there, in black and white. All right? Crack on.”
“Mr. Solomons, I’m gonna be very fucking clear with you. I don’t need you to kill anybody. I have people that I trust, okay? So you are gonna take my boys and you are gonna bring them to the ring as seconds.” Alfie frowned at the Italian.
“Well, in order to qualify as my seconds, right, they would first have to qualify as being Jewish, yeah? And in order to do that, they would have to replace their natural Italian fucking arrogance with a Jewish air of absolute certainty. You see, my good friend, Tommy Shelby, he will know the difference.” he warned the unbothered Italian don.
“You see, these days, back in the old country, a lot of the, uh.... You know, the Jewish people, they, uh... They are having to pass themselves off as Italian.” Changretta chuckled menacingly. 
“All right, well, you’ll have to add another ton onto your bill - For being a cunt, mate.” Alfie refuted with a chilling calm. “All right?”
Luca looked away briefly. “You will bring my men to Birmingham?”
Alfie nodded his head, hoping his crazy humour was acting as reassurance for his lady. “You will circumcise them?” Luca was mute. “Yeah, you will have to circumcise them. Because the Peakys will check, yeah?”
“If they’re going to have their pretty doctor check, surely, she wouldn’t quite know the difference, would she?” the Italian jabbed at the Jew, who was imagining different ways of torturing this fucker.
“Don’t bother your little wop brain over what my wife does. She won’t be there.”  Luca smirked, knowing very well his uppercut landed perfectly.
“Okay. Any other requests?” he asked, laxing his grip on her hair. “Two hundred fucking barrels, we have a deal.” Alfie frowned, looking at him with disinterest. “What’s the matter? I said we have a deal.”
“Eh, you just made a deal without a negotiation, didn’t you?” Alfie stared him down. Luca affirmed that statement. “Yeah, Tommy Shelby was right about you, wasn’t he?” then, for the first time, Y/N heard the man speak in his own, native language. “You plan to kill us all.” though she didn’t quite understand what he said, the look in his eyes was enough to give her a good guess. Still, with the deal in place, Luca Changretta smirked in triumph, and with one last gesture of condescence, he forced Y/N into a deep kiss, before pushing her towards the Jew. “Sogni d’oro, mia bella Angelica.”
Alfie instinctively lunged forward, catching and gathering his lady into a tight embrace and watching carefully as Changretta stepped inside the mansion. He could feel Y/N’s soft trembles of her small body as she cried in soft whimpers - She was trying desperately to stay composed, but after everything she’d gone through, he couldn’t blame her. That margherita fucker must have creeped her to hell and back. “It’s okay, darling, cry as much as you need. I’m here, love, I’m here, okay? Alfie’s here, and I’m not gonna let go of you again.” she felt so warm, so safe in his large arms. “Let’s go home, yeah? No more of this gang shit. I’ve done over my plans, and we’re leaving faster. I’m not gonna let any of this fuckers even look at you ever again.” he massaged and stroked the back of her head, where that jerk hurt her, and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks and even her nose, before guiding her to the car, with Ollie driving them to the comfort of her own home, with her many dogs, and a shit ton of guards all around.
Y/N couldn’t say anything, and when they got home, Alfie had her maid draw her a warm bath so she could relax. He made sure to put a nice vinyl on the gramophone, and had Ollie return to their house to bring the emergency cookies for comfort, whilst he continued to internally curse Thomas.
He wasn’t sure how long she calmed down in the bath, with her maid comforting and chatting with her to get her mind off of the anguish she was put through, but when she returned, she was wearing one of her beautiful silk nightgown that barely went down to her knees, and she let herself plop on the bed, cuddling into his arms like a kitten seeking warmth. “How did you know?” her soft voice asked as he pulled them to lay down, stroking her hair and her face dearly, occasionally planting kisses and calling her sweet things. When Ollie finally came back with the cookies, her maid had brewed the sweetest tea in existence for them.
“Well, I always did pride myself with having good intuition, you know, but when Tommy came by my bakery, I realised - Shit, my sweet lady’s in trouble.” Alfie spoke, watching her cringe softly at the mention of the Shelby. “Asked him what the hell he was doin’ over at my place, instead of being there with you, and he said - Who would hurt you? Sabini wouldn’t, surely. There’s no person with more immunity than you, right?” he mimicked the man. “Thought I was gonna lose my mind, hun, hearing that. I was this close to beating him to death, yeah, nobody dares touch my sweet girl after all. He said some things about those fucking greasy wops, and it got me thinking - I already knew things were going to shit, and very fast, right, and I knew I had to make our exit as swift as possible - But when I heard you were all alone, with a bunch of sleazy fucks, my mind went crazy.” he gesticulated dramatically, before pinching her cheek playfully. “I promised Tommy Shelby a beating at some point, and I managed to land one good punch on him before coming to my darling’s rescue. Glad I got there just in time, but fuck, I’m so pissed - So fucking pissed you had to go through all that. I should’ve never let you go. Should’ve trusted my gut.” he grumbled, clearly angry at himself.
“Alfie.” she had an upset, pouting look on her face. “I’m sorry I let him kiss me. I wasn’t strong enough to fight him off.” she hung her head in shame. “If you hadn’t come when you did... I fear what he’d have done.”
“Y/N, lass, what the hell are you apologising for?!” he exclaimed, his hands immediately going to raise her face gently to look at him. “As if a weaponless woman could fight a grown ass man with a gun. If anything, I should be the one to apologise for not being fucking able to protect you as a man should. I thought playing the wife card, and the extra billing, would get that cheapskate fucker let go of you already. Fucking cunt. He’ll pay, I’ll make sure of that.”
But Y/N frantically shook her head. “I don’t care about that, Alfie. I don’t want revenge, and I don’t care what happens to any gangs, okay? I’m sorry, Alfie, I’m sorry I- I’m selfish, okay? I don’t want to do this anymore. I just - I can’t. I really can’t, you know? Always in the middle of danger, always in the middle of war -- I just want to go live out a happy, peaceful life, with you, and our dogs, and a shit load of seagulls to shoot whenever they wake us up with that annoying screech of theirs. And then -- Then, I wanna go have a good travel, maybe. Let’s -- Let’s go to the mountains, I heard it’s fun hiking. The forests are very pretty too. We can hide away from everyone, we’ve got enough money, don’t we - And if you wanted to, I told you, you can open up your own real bakery, and live perfectly comfortable with those earnings. Anything - Anything, just to get the hell out of this God-forsaken, war-riddled, decrepit, barren city, and away from this awful, exploiting people who care for nothing but their damn fucking business.” the way her eyes were gleaming with both hope and desperation shattered Alfie’s heart. “Can we do that, Alfie? Please, can we do that? Just the two of us -- Maybe Ollie and Annie too, if they wanna - And our dogs too - Just us, a nice, big family.”
Alfie’s very soul felt honeyed from her words of love, and her wish of staying together with him - And it was tempting too, taking Ollie and her maid with them, he had to admit. They would finally be living the god damn peaceful fucking life that they deserved. He had been dreaming during the day, and during the night, of a life spent together with her, all away from this shit city, away from the shit gang wars and what nots. He was exhausted, he wanted to let his guard down for once, and he knew he could do that with Y/N. He wanted to provide her a beautiful, comfortable life, a peaceful once - She’s never been to the beach, and he really wanted to show Margate to her. Just them, and the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore, walking barefoot into the wet sand and playing in the water.
Perhaps it was a little close for comfort to both France and London too - Maybe some day, they could go further north, further away from the capital. Perhaps they can even change their names, take on new identities, retire completely. Sure, he’ll still be taking care of his Jewish community, but he would stop the mafia dealings - Let the younger generations get themselves in trouble a hundred thousand times per minute, he was completely done for.
“Yeah, my little cookie, we can do that, and we’ll fucking do it, and very soon, yeah? Very soon, I promise you that. I’ll keep you safe, and comfortable, and happy. First, in Margate, and if we get bored, wherever the hell we want, a’ight? With Ollie and Annie if they wanna join, and with our spoiled dogs, ‘course.” he leaned in, capturing her lips into a sweet kiss.
“Alfie?” she called his name, her cheeks flustering lightly, unable to meet his eyes, despite the beautiful smile on her face.
“Yeah, meyn ketsele?” Y/N always blushed so hard whenever he’d call her his little kitten.
“Is the... Erhm... Wifey spot still open? I’d like to apply.” Alfie couldn’t help but start laughing mirthfully at her bashfulness, only to pull her into a loving embrace, peppering her face with kisses all over.
“Ikh hob dikh shtark lib - I’d love nothing more than to be your husband.” Y/N felt faint from all the suffocating love and affection she was receiving all at once, but she couldn’t help but melt to the sound of Alfie speaking in his native language, saying that he loves her so much, that she was the love of his life and what more. It was almost funny, how quickly he became smitten beyond repair for her, but he simply couldn’t help it. Women like her only came about once every thousands of years, and he was just so happy, just by seeing that shy smile of hers, or waking up to her in his arms. How could he ever let her go? 
Y/N wasn’t Birmingham’s Angel anymore, and like hell was she Britain’s Angel. She wasn’t an angel, she was a little wicked fairy, the sweetest lady there was, and any other overdosing sugary sweet and entirely embarrassing term of love that Alfie could ultimately generate from the top of his head, just to see her adorable blush, but by hell, he was feeling trapped and addicted to her magic, and he was never going to let go of his darling honey bunch lady.
And Alfie was going to make her the happiest woman alive, and their wedding was gonna be fucking biblical.
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little-diable · 4 months
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The Test of Time - Tommy Shelby (smut)
This is an idea I have been playing with for a while. It is very dear to me, so I hope it'll also be to you! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: When Professor Shelby meets his new student, he's instantly fascinated by her, not understanding why he feels this connected to her. But the second their hands touch, both feel themselves thrown back in time, meeting centuries ago. It seems like love will always stand the test of time.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots of fluff, mentions some war time stuff and blood, small breeding kink, professor x reader relationship, age gap
Pairing: Soldier!Tommy x nurse!fem!reader / Professor!Tommy x student!fem!reader (3.7k words)
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4th of August 1916, Northern France
The air was sticky, his hands were muddy, dry, and heavy. He had to blink more often than his eyes liked, worsening the headache he had been plagued by for months. A shaky exhale left him, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut to try and keep calm. There was no way out, he was stuck, below the ground, and if there was one thing he couldn’t do, it was panicking – at least not if he wanted to stay alive. He couldn’t risk being shot for going against a command, for being frightened like a boy.
Voices echoed through the tunnel, ringing in his ears like another bomb going off in the distance. They had to work fast. They had to work precisely, otherwise they’d eventually be buried by the dark soil, swallowing them whole as the enemy won the battle. 
“Shelby!” A raspy voice ripped him out of his panicked state, he was shoved, forced to move faster, to keep on digging even though his hands were bleeding and the blisters kept growing. He had to keep digging, had to keep digging, had to keep digging. Before the darkness would swallow him whole. 
February 2024, Birmingham 
The sound of his shoes meeting the ground echoed through the empty hallway, eyes set on his black iPhone. It was too fucking early for his liking, silently cursing his faculty for forcing him to hold these early morning classes. Not once had he met a motivated student who wanted to talk about the First World War with him at 8 am, and as much as Tommy disliked the students he found himself surrounded by, he couldn’t blame them for being tired.
If he could, he’d occupy all afternoon classes, wanting to discuss his research topics with those who were actually interested in modern warfare, strategies, politics, and so on. And yet he knew the chance was slim, forced to back down and make room for those who taught the mandatory classes. 
With a sigh leaving him, Tommy stepped into the room he taught in every Tuesday morning, putting down his bag and shrugging out of his coat before he lifted his gaze. He was still on his own, wondering when the handful of students would pour into the room, probably seconds before class started. 
Tommy plopped down on the uncomfortable chair, he placed his laptop down – hoping that he could at least catch up with the morning news while still being engulfed in silence. He tried to focus on the words, tried to cling to the information he was fed, though without any luck, interrupted by the sickly sweet “Morning!” echoing through the room. 
His eyes found an unfamiliar pair, not used to being greeted this enthusiastically in the morning. It took him a second to reply, eyebrows furrowed as he studied the woman. She must have been young, and yet he instantly found himself drawn to her gorgeous features, the soft hair he wanted to feel beneath his fingertips. 
“(Y/n), right?” She had emailed him about a month ago, warning the professor that she’d have to miss the first two weeks of his course due to some family trouble. Back then he hadn’t cared about her missing out on it, it was on her to catch up with his teaching anyways, but now he couldn’t help but wonder how he had managed to miss out on having her around for even just a second. 
“That’s me! Sorry again for my absence, Professor Shelby.” He shot her a small smile, not daring to speak up as his throat grew tighter. What the fuck was going on with him? Tommy felt as if he was drowning, as if the cold ocean was soaking through his black clothes, sticking to him to add more weight to his frame. He didn’t know her, knew only her name, and yet he felt strangely connected to her. 
He needed to get a grip, needed to redirect his focus before he’d forget his surroundings and the information he was supposed to pass on to his students.
……
“Professor Shelby?” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through his office, making a small smile tug on his lips as his eyes found hers. She stepped into the room, carefully closing the door behind herself before she walked up to him. Wordlessly he pointed towards the chair placed close to his table, piercing blue eyes watching her sit down.
“I have to say, I’m impressed, (y/n). You’re the first to ever score 100 on this essay.” The smile that grew on her lips left Tommy choking on his air, forcing his eyes away from her face. It had been a selfish move to invite all students to his office hour, telling them that he’d like to give them each some verbal feedback. But deep down Tommy didn’t give a single fuck about his students, at least not about the others, having eyes only for her. 
“I wanted to leave a good impression, especially after missing out on so much.” He was forced to look at her again, shooting her another smile as he reached the essay out for her to take. His heart started racing the second her fingers touched his, vision growing blurry, unable to notice that she was going through the same confusing sensations. 
“Help! We need help!” The screams echoed through the tent, ringing in her ears as she watched the soldiers move closer. Her eyes were instantly drawn to the soldier whose face was covered in blood and mud, forcing her to run towards them. 
“Place him down over there, quick!” Panic was flushing through her. No matter how many soldiers she had helped before, no matter how many lives she had saved, (y/n) couldn’t help but fear these moments when she held their lives in her hands. She needed to work quickly, and couldn’t wait for the other nurses to return from their visitations, there was no time to lose. “I need you to hold him down.” 
Her eyes met a pair of piercing blue ones, momentarily robbing her of any air left in her lungs. She had to redirect her focus, bloody fingers trying to clean the soldier’s cheeks as the handsome man held him down. No words were spoken between them, she needed to concentrate, needed to stop the soldier’s bleeding. Feeling the other man near did something to her, something unfamiliar she hadn’t ever felt before. 
“Here, I need you to bite down on this.” She pushed a wooden piece between the guy’s teeth as she reached for her tweezers. A deep inhale of air was sucked into her lungs. Even though it wasn’t the first time she was about to pull a bullet from somebody’s skin, (y/n) couldn’t help but feel nervous. Before she could even try to move, she felt the handsome man’s hand on her knee, softly squeezing the flesh to try and wordlessly support her. She could do it, and could help the hurt soldier, especially with the support of the man who was sitting close to her. 
“Alright, this will hurt.”
“Uhm,” Tommy had to clear his throat, blinking a few times before his vision began to clear up. (Y/n) was still sitting close to him, wearing the same confused expression as Tommy. Both stared at one another for a few moments, wordlessly, before she grasped the essay. Her eyes flickered down to the paper, trying to recollect her thoughts. 
“Thank you again for this, I think it’s best if I leave now.” He didn’t get a chance to reply, could only watch her disappear before he could even try to speak up. Tommy’s heart was still racing, mind not understanding what had just happened.
Had this been some trick of his brain, something he had read about in a book or seen in a movie? And yet it didn’t explain to him why the woman had looked just like (y/n), and why (y/n) had been just as dazed as he had been. 
It took Tommy a while to move, shaking his head as he drowned the last sips of his now cold coffee. He needed to get out of his office, needed to grab a few pints with some friends, anything to distract himself from what had just happened, and from (y/n). 
……
“Here, let me.” She watched him light his match, stepping closer to help her light her cigarette. Both blew out the blue smoke, watching it dance in the warm August breeze. Tommy was covered in soil, hands and face dirty, just like his hair, and yet neither of them seemed to care, wanting to feel one another close.
It had been days since she had helped his fellow soldier, making it through the night and all the following ones, left to survive with a big scar gracing his cheek. Ever since that day, Tommy and (y/n) had searched for one another, needing to learn more about the one they couldn’t stop thinking of. 
“Do you miss home, Tommy?” (Y/n)’s whispers rang in his ears, loud enough to distract him from his surroundings, the shots going off in the distance, the calls, and cries. He was sure that no matter where he’d be, no matter who he’d be surrounded by, if (y/n) was close, he’d always find himself focused on her. 
“Always do.” A hum left her at his reply, unconsciously moving closer to him, breath getting stuck in her lungs as his arm found its way around her waist. Their eyes met, his piercingly blue and full of pain and sorrow, hers filled with questions, longings, and confusion. She watched his gaze flicker down to her lips, taking another drag of his cigarette before he dipped his head down. 
(Y/n) didn’t dare move, silently praying that he’d kiss her, that he wouldn’t pull away, wrapped in darkness’s comforting veil. But before he could move, they heard the calls growing louder, forcing all soldiers to return to their positions. Their eyes met once again as he stubbed his cigarette out, pressed a kiss to her cheek, and disappeared.
(Y/n) woke with a gasp, hands pressed to the warm mattress she had been sleeping on for the past hours. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing, still focused on the dream she had just been forced through. Ever since she had experienced that strange moment in Professor Shelby’s office, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking of him, of what her mind had pushed her through – what had felt like a memory but couldn’t be one. And now she was dreaming of him, her professor, and yet he wasn’t a professor, at least not in her dream.
She needed to talk to him, or at least touch him again to figure out of it had been a trick of her brain or something that would happen again. He had looked just as confused, dazed even, unsure what had happened the second their hands had touched. Perhaps she could speak to him after class, or show up at his office, whatever it took to be close to him again. 
……
“Professor? Do you have a moment for me?” He had disappeared too quickly after class for (y/n) to even try to catch up with him, forcing her to wait a few hours before she could turn up at his office. She watched him take off his round glasses, leaning back in his chair as a soft “Of Course” left him. 
For a few moments, they were engulfed in silence, eyes wandering over one another’s features, wondering how to express what they were plagued by. But even though (y/n) tried her hardest to speak up, she couldn’t, throat too tight, mouth too dry. Professor Shelby broke their silence as he cleared his throat, rising to his feet to slowly move towards (y/n). 
He kept his distance and leaned back against his desk, and yet she felt him close. Though not close enough, feeling herself pulled towards him like a puzzle searching for its last missing piece. With a sigh breaking through him, he reached his hand out for (y/n) to take, watching the hesitation tugging on her features. 
“It’s alright, I don’t understand it myself, but I guess it’s on us to figure this out. Whatever it is.” Her teeth ran along her lower lip as (y/n) stepped towards him, letting go of one last exhale before she carefully grasped his hand. 
“Look at me, (y/n). I’ve got you, I’m alive.” His voice rang in her ears, watching the tears drip down her cheeks as she stared up at him. She clung to his hand, cursing this very war for pushing these unfamiliar emotions through her. God, she had counted the hours, had lost hope, sure that Tommy was no longer alive. And yet here he was, alive, breathing, not even bleeding. 
She hastily took a step away, eyes wide, lips parted. He had his eyes focused on his hand, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Neither of them dared to speak up, not understanding what was happening, why these things that felt like memories were pushed through their brains. Only slowly did the professor dare to lift his gaze, studying her panicked features.
“What is happening? What is that?” (Y/n) choked on her words, torn between confusion and the pain she felt deep inside of her. It felt as if she was grieving something or rather someone. A pain she was so unfamiliar with, she couldn’t even understand what it was trying to tell her, what she was plagued by. 
“I don’t know, (y/n).” He spoke her name all too softly, sounding just like it had in her head moments ago. With wide eyes she kept studying him, needing to feel what had happened again, still not believing that this was something but a trick of her brain. All he did was watch her, eyes following her every move, even as she came to a halt in front of him, standing far closer than moments ago, he didn’t dare move. If there was one thing Tommy wanted to avoid, it was scaring her. 
“Can I try something?” Their eyes held contact as (y/n) murmured the words, waiting for his spoken consent before she moved. A quiet “Yes” left the professor, wondering what she was about to do, not expecting to feel her soft lips meeting his.
“You have to be quiet, love.” His raspy voice left her buzzing with excitement. Tommy had her pressed against a car, swallowed by darkness. Their lips met carefully at first, with her arms slung around his neck, and his hands placed on her waist. Neither of them could hold back, deepening the kiss within seconds as they hoped that no other soldiers, nurses, or commanders would find them. 
“Don’t stop, please.” He had taken over the kiss, forcing her down on his desk to stand between her thighs. Both were torn between the pictures their minds were painting and the feeling of one another’s hands exploring their bodies. Whatever it was that had pushed them together, they didn’t want to break the spell, needed to keep close. 
“Will you let me have a taste? Ever since I saw you for the first time I wanted to get my mouth between those pretty thighs of yours.” Her eyes were wide, lips parted to try and suck some air into her aching lungs. (Y/n) could only nod her head, forgetting how to speak, how to express the emotions she so desperately wanted to explain to him.
With their eyes holding contact, Tommy undid her trousers, pulling them down her legs before he pushed her damp panties to the side. The groan that clawed through him at the sight of her bare cunt left her walls clenching around nothing, needing to feel his fingers, his mouth on her. But the second he brushed two fingers through her slit, collecting drops of arousal, she found herself stuck in another memory. 
“Oh god, oh god. Right there.” Her eyes rolled back into her head, pressed against the mattress of the bed she hadn’t been lying on for years. It had been hours since they had returned from France, not daring to leave one another’s side once, hours they had spent hiding away from those who had waited on them for years, only focused on exploring their bodies without needing to worry about curious bystanders. His tongue brushed along her folds, moaning at her taste as his arms tightened their grip on her thighs. 
“I guess you’ve always tasted this sweet.” His words drew tears to her eyes, overcome by a wave of unfamiliar emotions, set on drowning her. Tommy kept moving his fingers as his tongue explored the spots she needed him to touch, choking on his name. She needed to hold onto him, needed to bury her fingers in his skin, but her fingers couldn’t move, could only cling to the edge of his table. “My pretty girl, fuck, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” 
“What a sight for sore eyes, I’m a fucking lucky bastard.” Tommy’s raspy voice filled their shared bedroom. He leaned back in his chair, chest bare, legs stretched out. Smoke left his nostrils, eyes set on her naked frame. She walked closer with a smirk on her lips, enjoying the way he marvelled at her, how he watched her every move. “I don’t deserve you, my pretty wife.”
His wife? Them, Married? Fuck, if these flashes were truly memories of their past life, she couldn’t help but thank whoever had pushed them together once again. Another shot at this life with Tommy by her side, another shot at this life with a man she had loved in other centuries. Love that would always stand the test of time. 
“I need to be inside of you, will you let me fuck you?” (Y/n) pulled Tommy in for a kiss, groaning into his mouth as she felt his covered bulge rubbing against her sensitive cunt. Their kiss was all tongue and teeth, growing more heated by the second, while Tommy’s impatient fingers freed his cock. He parted from her to roll a condom down his cock, and yet their eyes never broke eye contact. “Last chance to stop this, I need you to tell me you want this too.” 
“Oh fuck, of course I want this, Tommy. Fuck me, fuck me like you’ve always fucked me.” Her glassy eyes met his, both were clearly overcome by the emotions they still needed to adjust to. He pushed into her slowly, fingers interlaced with hers to hold her close. There was no need to adjust, it seemed like their bodies remembered one another the same way their minds did. 
“Forever mine, I will never let you go.” Tommy rasped his words into the darkness as he fucked her into their mattress. He couldn’t help but admire her, needing to take in every inch of (y/n), silently hoping that tonight he’d get to fuck another baby into her. Her moans left him smirking, fingers rubbing her pulsing bundle in sync with his thrusts, needing to push her over the edge any moment now. 
She didn’t allow herself to wonder what their life together had been like, and how many children they have had together – at least not at that very moment. All (y/n) could concentrate on was the feeling of Tommy fucking her ruthlessly, cock forcing her walls apart with every thrust. 
With her forehead pushed against his shoulder, (y/n) moaned his name, already close to letting go. Both were shaken up by what kept on happening to them whenever they touched one another in another place, bringing up memories that felt like they were straight out of a movie. It was unfamiliar and confusing, and yet it was anything but scary, no, it left them filled with excitement, needing to learn more about one another and the life they had once shared. 
“It’s alright, love, cum for me, cum on my cock.” Tommy’s gritty voice left her choking on her gasps, letting go with a moan. He kept on snapping his hips, enjoying the way she clenched around him, how she trembled from her intense orgasm. All because of him. With his thoughts set on (y/n), he came, letting go with a groan. 
For a few moments, neither of them parted from one another, holding on before he slowly pulled away. Neither of them spoke as they redressed, caught in their thoughts. Only as Tommy pulled her in for another kiss did (y/n) allow another smile to tug on her lips. 
“If you’ll allow it, I want to love you in this lifetime too, hold you close like we were destined to be.” With tears once again welling up in her eyes, (y/n) pulled him in for a breathless kiss. 
Tommy had his eyes set on her sleeping figure, hand stroking her hair. His thoughts were torn between the memories of the tunnel, of the darkness he hadn’t been able to escape from for long. But it had all been worth it, because of her, because of the woman he had married, the woman who was the mother of his children. And if there was one thing Tommy was wishing for, it was getting the chance to love her in all upcoming lifetimes too.
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brummiereader · 11 months
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PREVIOUS PART
Killing Me Softly (PART SIX/ DARK!TOMMY)
Summary: It's been two months since your escape from Tommy's clutches. How long will you be able to stay hidden until your husband hunts you down?
Warnings: Language, angst, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic marriage, Dark!Tommy ( this is a dark fic, please read the warnings before continuing)
Writers note: Just to note, £250 in 1920s England is the equivalent to £9,183 in today's money, the price Tommy paid for your diamond encrusted bracelet . The song Tommy sings to Y/N is called "Run Rabbit Run" by Flanagan and Allen that was released in 1939, a song Tommy would have known.
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Two months later...
Storming into the factory building, every worker turned around in a hurry to avoid the fury on their bosses face. They had learnt over the past two months that one wrong look could end with them getting shot, a lesson they learnt quickly when one of Tommy's many workers approached him to ask about a delivery due that day. Tommy's response, the end of his gun pointed to the young man's head. The workers only saving grace was when Arthur and John stepped in before he ended up six feet under with a bullet hole through his skull. The reason for his anger, you. For the past two months Tommy had torn Birmingham apart looking for you, every one of his henchmen as well as himself had been out searching for you night and day. Countless hours had been spent checking potential leads and yet, he still hadn't found you. The king of Birmingham, the notorious boss of the Peaky Blinders couldn't find his wife, the embarrassment only angered him more. Fury was consuming him, your brazen act of disloyalty and disobedience at the forefront of his mind every second of the day. Unable to sleep or eat, the only thing that kept him going was tobacco, whisky and the awaited pleasure he would feel unleashing his punishment on you, a punishment you would not escape for a second time. Slamming the door to his office shut, Tommy sat down in his leather chair, his fingers running through his hair as he looked down at the various notes left on his table. Sitting back he flicked through each one of the potential sightings, all of them quickly deemed useless as he tossed them into a nearby bin. Gazing down at his wedding ring, Tommy turned the gold band around his finger, clenching his jaw as he pushed down any anxiety that dared to make an appearance. A small inconvenience until he had found you, he thought to himself as he brushed his hand down his face. But was it? You had begun to stir up anxieties in him that he had pushed away for years since his return from war. The fear of having no control over what could happen started to slowly creep up on him again, the same fear he felt digging tunnels in France as the weight of the earth threatened to fall down on him. Swallowing back the memories, Tommy clenched his fist as his mind forced him to remember his time in France, and the only thing that kept him going, his childhood love. At first, it was a comforting memory he'd conjure up as the sound of gunfire echoed through No Man's Land behind him, but in his desperate attempt to block out reality it had become an unhealthy fixation. A once innocent young love became an obsession, an obsession he refused to let go of. Overtime the sound of gunfire and bombs exploding no longer scared him, instead it was replaced with the fear of never seeing you again, a fear that started to feel all too familiar. Straightening his posture out Tommy poured himself a glass of whisky in an attempt to rid himself of the uncomfortable feeling pressing against his chest.
" Why did she leave?" John's wife Esme asked her husband as she watched her brother-in-law through the glass window of his office, his head in his hands, his knee rapidly bouncing up and down as the stress coursed through his body. He was loosing control, and it was becoming evident to all those around him.
" The worry of her mother being sick. She's in a fragile place Esme. She couldn't handle it and left. Tom says she always does that, runs away from her problems when things get too difficult" he replied as Polly looked on, raising an eyebrow at Johns explanation.
" He looks like he's going to murder someone" Arthur said as he walked into the factory looking at Tommy now pacing back and forth in his office with another glass of whisky in his hand.
" He nearly did" Polly said, referring to the factory worker who almost got shot in the head for having the audacity to talk to him.
" He's still not found her then?" Arthur asked, leaning against a wall as he pulled out a silver flask of whisky. Clearly the soothing lull of the amber liquid was not too early for him either.
" Does it look like it?" John replied as he rolled the toothpick in his mouth between his lips.
" Fuck...we've looked everywhere, how far could she have got?" Arthur replied, taking a swig of liquor.
" Pretty far, when your scared" Polly spoke up, as she looked down at the newspaper in front of her.
"Heads up" Arthur said as he nodded to Tommy's office door, warning everyone of his younger brother's approaching presence.
"Arthur, John, we're leaving " Tommy said as he put his coat on, his eyes darting to his Aunt who was staring him down
"You gonna tell us where we going?" John asked as he hopped off one of the receptionists desks placing his peaked cap firmly on his head.
" Just had a phone call. She was seen down by the old Jewellery Quarters over a month ago" Tommy replied as he turned his head to his Aunt. "Problem?" he asked, annoyance in his voice as he cocked an eyebrow at his Aunt's insistent glare.
" Oh no Tommy, you go find your wife...that's if she wants to be found" Polly replied, turning away as Tommy cleared his throat in irritation at her remark. Had Polly finally figured everything out?
"Y/N there's a letter here for you, your Landlady said as she bounced her baby up and down on her hip.
"Thank you Mrs Riley " you replied as you smiled at the baby boy reaching out for you.
"Is it still ok for you to babysit tonight?" she asked as she wiped the dribble off her son's chin with the end of her apron.
" Of course, I don't mind at all. Plus, how could I say no to this little man" you replied as you took him from her, blowing small raspberries to his neck as he giggled in response.
" Ahh thank you. First time me and Mr Riley have gone out since this little one came along. You should really come one day, lots of single men will be there, they will be jumping at the chance to dance with you. We need to find you a husband!" she chuckled smiling to you, unaware that you were already married.
"Why would I need a man when I've got this little bundle to keep me company" you replied looking down at the baby in your arms, a small uneasiness washing over you at the thought of Tommy. " Oh god, it's that time already. I'm going to be late" you said looking down at your watch as you passed the baby back to his mother. Saying goodbye you walked out onto the farm you had been stopping at for the past two months. Having sold the bracelet Tommy had gifted you before your wedding, you had plenty of money to afford a more expensive place to stay, but you needed to keep low. You knew Tommy would be out searching for you, and with that in mind you responded to an advertisement in the local paper for a small lodgings at Riley Farm, the perfect place for anyone wanting to go unnoticed. A small bedsit attached to the side of the farm house in a little village you had never heard of, so inconspicuous that it was not even marked on a map. With everyone knowing the last name Shelby and Tommy knowing you might use your maiden name in replacement, you started using your mothers maiden name from the day you left Arrow House. Word spread fast about Tommy Shelby's anger. Even in the small village you was now living in a you heard talk of how the gang leader of the Peaky Blinder was tearing the city apart. No one knew exactly why the infamous Tommy Shelby's fury had rained down on the smog covered city, but there were rumours of his wife having run off with another man, a rumour you only imagined infuriated him even more. You knew your husband would never cease in his search for you and that you would eventually have to leave and find somewhere else to stay, but for now you enjoyed the peace and quiet the small village gave you, a peace you had forgotten existed. You had started working as a teaching assistant at the village school, a school that accommodated many orphaned children from the war, funded by rich benefactors. You enjoyed your job, the children's laughs and joyful spirits were a pleasant distraction to the memories you held inside of the previous months. But there were still times when Tommy would invade your thoughts and you would suddenly find yourself longing for him once again. Longing for his strong arms wrapped around you, his hands cupping your cheeks as he look down into your eyes, his voice telling you he loved you. Had he still a hold on you, even after everything that had happened ?
"Stop here Arthur" Tommy said as his older brother pulled up in front of a shop in Birmingham's city center.
" What the fuck we doing here, thought she was seen in a jewellery shop?" Arthur replied as he looked out his window at the small building. Giving no response Tommy opened the door as he reached into his pocket to light a cigarette. Looking up, Tommy squinted his eyes at the sign attached to the old stone brick wall, "Johnson & son Pawnbrokers". Breathing out a cloud of smoke he entered the small business, shutting the door behind him.
" Well I guess we bloody follow him then" Arthur said rolling his eyes as John shook his head laughing.
As the three brothers entered the shop, the owner immediately scurried back behind his till, instantly recognising each gang member, the shine from the blade on the front of their caps a stark reminder of their brutality if he dared to anger them.
" Please, I don't want trouble" he said as he put his trembling hands up in defence.
"What makes you think we're here to cause trouble?" Tommy asked as John and Arthur looked around at the various objects for sale.
" A young woman was seen coming in here a few months ago" Tommy said reaching into his suit jacket, pulling out an old picture of you that had clearly seen better days.
" We get lots of people coming in to sell things Mr Shelby" he replied nervously as he looked down at the picture. " I don't remember her, she could have come in when my son was working or maybe my wife, I'm not very good at remembering faces. I'll, I'll go get my wif.." he said only to be interrupted when Tommy pulled a gun to his head, tired of the conversation. The shop keepers eyes quickly darted to the back door next to him as he contemplated fleeing.
"I wouldn't do that if I was you" Tommy said as he clicked the safety off. " I have very little patience these days Mr Johnson".
" Tom, I think you might want to see this" Arthur said as he looked down into a glass cabinet. Narrowing his eyes Tommy lowered his gun, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked at the trembling man in front of him. Walking over, Tommy's eyes widened at the small bracelet he had offered you before your wedding sitting in a glass cabinet on a red velvet stand. His stomach suddenly felt sick, his hands sweaty.
" Care to explain why the fuck you have my wife's bracelet in your possession?! " Tommy shouted as he marched back over to the shop owner, the gun now pressed firmly against the old man's temple.
" She...she must have come in and sold it, please don't shoot me" he said mumbling as he scrunched his eyes shut, the barrel of the gun cold against his skin.
" No? " Tommy grinned darkly as he twisted the end of the gun further into his flesh.
" P..please Mr Shelby"
" I wouldn't say anything more if I was you, he's two seconds away from pulling that trigger" John said as Arthur watched on.
" Yeh, and I can't be bothered to pull him off another innocent soul for a second time. Got elbowed in the bloody stomach last time " Arthur added as the two brothers looked at eachother smirking, enjoying the torment they were inflicting.
" Right give us the keys to open this thing " Arthur said slapping his hands together, pulling Tommy out of his trance. Dropping the gun from the shop keepers head Tommy scoffed as he watched him fumble to find his keys.
" So is it hers?" John asked as Tommy picked it up, turning it over to see both your initials and the date of your wedding engraved on the back. Brushing his hand down his face Tommy nodded as he enclosed the bracelet in his hand, placing it in his pocket.
" Did she erh..." Tommy said as he started to clear his throat, his mouth suddenly going dry "...did she leave any details, address, number?" He asked as he turned back to the shop keeper.
" I'll check right now for you me Shelby" the owner said hurrying back to his counter as he looked through various pieces of paper, desperately trying to find something as Tommy waited next to him, lighting another cigarette
" What do you think?" John laughed placing a straw hat with an array of different flowers stitched into the side of it on top of his peaked cap.
" Very pretty John boy, you should get it" Arthur said winking to his brother. "Ain't he pretty Tommy?" Arthur laughed trying to get his brother to lighten up.
" Beautiful" Tommy replied flatly as he looked back over to the shop owner, his fingers taping on the counter, his patience disappearing.
"Ah here! I found something. One diamond encrusted bracelet sold in the exchange of, One Hundred and Ten pound King George Sterling to one Miss Y/mothers maiden/N, 12A Ferris Court Birmingham" he said handing the small piece of paper to Tommy, breathing a sigh of relief.
"She's still in Birmingham?" John questioned confused as to how they hadn't found you since they had already checked that part of town. Scrunching the paper in his hands, anger started to build up in him. Was someone helping you?
" Y/mothers maiden/N" Tommy scoffed. " One Hundred and Ten pounds ey? I brought that bracelet for Two Hundred and Fifty" Tommy said, squinting his eyes at the shopkeeper who swallowed harshly as he leaned over the counter to open his till. " One Hundred and Ten pounds, and I'll be keeping the bracelet" Tommy said pulling the same sum of money out, a smirk on his lips as the owner rubbed the sweat of his forehead as Tommy emptied his till." Lads " Tommy said as he walked to the door, his brothers quickly following behind him. " Pleasure doing business with you Mr Johnson" he added, walking out the door as Arthur took the hat of John's head replacing it with slap to the back of his skull instead.
After a long day of working at the school, you and the teacher you were assisting made your way to the village square. You and Mr Brown or as you called him Robert, had grown close to one another over the past weeks. He had become a good a friend, but only a friend. He would never ask questions about your personal life, quickly realising you were reluctant to talk about it whenever the topic arose, he respected your privacy and decided to leave the subject alone. Every day after school had ended he would walk with you to your lodgings, he was a caring man whose friendship you deeply cherished, one you was afraid of Tommy learning about. If your husband knew you was talking to another man let alone him accompany you home, you would certainly both pay the price for his anger, the thought alone scared you into never delving into your past.
" Think the kids really enjoyed your imaginative way of learning the alphabet today. Still don't know how you managed to find an object for each word of the alphabet" he laughed as he walked beside you along the country lane.
" I don't either" you giggled as you both approached the village square, the sun shining down on the quiet neighborhood.
" Thinking about having them do a large drawing for our benefactors visit tomorrow, we are so grateful for their donations. They keep our school going and Mr Sh.." he stopped as you came to a halt, your hand grabbing holding of his arm.
"Y/N are you ok? " he said looking at the fearful expression on your face, your eyes fixed on the back of a smartly dressed man with a peaked cap sitting on a bricked wall.
" He found me...I, I need to go" you panicked, tears welling in your eyes as you started walking backwards letting go of Roberts arm.
"Wait, Y/N" he stopped you, your eyes widening at the man turning around as Robert turned his head to look at what had you so frightened.
" Oh..." You exhaled as tears ran down your face to see that the man in front of you wasn't your husband. Feeling your knees go weak, you stumbled to a nearby bench as Robert held you up.
"You're married aren't you?" He questioned as he looked down at your trembling hands, the indent of where your wedding ring once was only now coming to his attention.
"Yes" you said nodding your head as you blinked away the tears.
" And you're hiding from him?" he asked as you mouthed a silent yes in response whilst you looked desperately into your friends eyes.
" You don't understand, if he finds me.."
" He's not going to find Y/N, nobody knows about this village, they can't even pronounce it let alone find it. You're safe here, I promise" he said, as he placed a comforting hand over yours. " Come on, let's get you back before Mrs Riley starts worrying" he said smiling to you as he reached his hand out for yours. Smiling back you stood up wiping the tears away with the back of your hand as a wave of dread washed over you at Roberts words. Tommy would never stop until he found you, it was only matter of time until he would finally hunt you down.
"FUCKKK!" Tommy shouted at the top of his voice as he repeatedly punched his fist into the wall. " She's playing with me Arthur, she's fucking playing with me!" Tommy yelled as he frantically reached into his pocket for a smoke, anger coursing through his body as he tried to light the cigarette in his mouth. You had deceived him, the address you gave was the address to an abandoned flat on the north side of Birmingham's city center, Tommy was furious.
" Tom, maybe she just wants some space, she'll come back eventually" John said as he stood by the door, his hands in his pockets.
" What the fuck was that, space?!" Tommy said storming over to his brother, Arthur putting himself between them before a fight broke out.
" We'll find her Tom" Arthur reassured his brother as he took out his lighter, igniting the cigarette resting between Tommy's lips.
" She fucking needs me, she's weak without me" Tommy said as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, the nicotine calming his nerves as his brothers looked nervously to eachother at Tommy's strange choice of words.
" Come on brother let's get out here" Arthur said wrapping his arm around his shoulder as he walked with him to the door, John sheepishly following behind. Tommy may be John's brother but even he knew he was not immune to the deadly gang leaders retribution, a retribution he wanted to stay clear of.
Sitting by the classroom window the following day, you looked down at the stack of papers In front of you that needed to be marked as Robert walked into the classroom carrying a pile of books in his arms.
" They'll be arriving soon" Robert said as he placed the books down onto his desk, a film a sweat covering his skin from his frantic state.
" Who?" You replied looking up from the papers you were grading as you took a sip of tea, a playful smile on your lips as you looked at Roberts nervousness.
" The benefactors of the school, remember? They've been funding us for over a year, we can't keep this place going without them, everything needs to be in order for when they come" he replied as he sat down in his chair exhausted.
" Come on Robert, no one would pull funding from a school for orphaned children'' you replied trying to reassure him.
" Yes maybe, but these patrons are not exactly, clean money" he responded as he wiped the sweat from his skin whilst you giggled at the thought of criminals funding anything, let alone a school.
" Well they can't be that bad if they have the heart to donate money to our little school. What did you say their name was?" you replied as you put your pen back into your bag.
" It's Sh..oh god it's them" he answered cutting himself off when he saw their car pull up in front of the school.
" Do I have time to use the bathroom?" you asked getting up with a grin on your face as you turned around to see the Bugatti parked just outside.
" Yes yes but hurry, the boss is... well he's, he's intimidating"
"Intimidating" you repeated, rolling your eyes laughing whilst you made your way to the restroom as the sound of the school door opened.
" Remind me why the fuck we have to go to these things Pol?" Tommy asked as he lit a cigarette.
" Because it's what you do when you own a charity Tommy" she replied shutting the school door behind her.
" Well don't drag it on, I've got things to do. Who chose this school? I've never even heard of this fucking village " he added as he looked at his pocket watch, his patience already disappearing.
" Can you at least try to pretend like you want to be here" Polly said as she gave him a stern look, Tommy forcing a sarcastic smile in response.
" Mr Shelby, Miss Grey. It's so nice to see you again" Robert greeted them as he shook each of their hand, a warm smile on his face as he welcomed them into the classroom. Looking around the small room Tommy perched himself on one of the empty desks, exhaling a puff of smoke as Polly and Robert talked to eachother.
" Do tell us Mr Brown, how are the children doing? Do you have everything you need?" Polly asked as Tommy rubbed his cigarette in between his fingers, looking out the window, uninterested by the conversation that was taking place.
" Oh, they are doing great, we have a new teaching assistant that started a few months ago, she should be back any minute, she's been a real help" he replied pulling out the drawing the children had made for them. Rubbing his forehead Tommy looked ahead of him at the small desk beside the blackboard when something suddenly caught his eye. Scrunching his brow he stood up walking over to the small wooden table in the corner, tilting his head as his eyes narrowed in on the black handbag sitting on top of the old wood. This was your bag, he was certain of it. The sound of Polly and Roberts conversation started to muffle in his ears, the thumping of his heart replaced the echo of their voices as he felt the room closing in on him. Feeling the pressure of his shirt pushing against his throat, Tommy loosened the tie around his neck, his anger rising in him at an unstoppable speed, you had been here all this time.
" When did your new assistant start working here ?" Tommy seethed, turning around to face Robert as he wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead.
" Around 6 weeks ago Mr Shelby" he replied, taking a step back as he saw the anger in Tommy's face.
" At this new teaching assistant " Tommy started to say as bitterness and fury built in his voice. " What's her last name?"
" Well it's Y/mother's maiden/N" he replied as Tommy scoffed in reply, shaking his head in disbelief.
" Miss Y/mother's maiden/N...not Mrs Shelby then?" Tommy answered as he looked Robert dead in the eye.
" What's going on Tommy?" Polly interjected as she watched the the tension build in her nephews face.
" Have you been helping her, hm?" Tommy said raising his voice as Polly's eyes darted to your bag on the table, putting her hand to her mouth in shock at the realisation.
" I... I don't " Robert stuttered as his brain tried to catch up to what Tommy was asking. And then it hit him, he was the man you were hiding from, he was your husband.
" Where is she? Answer me!" Tommy shouted as he slammed his fist down onto the desk in front of him.
Leaving the bathroom, you frowned in confusion as you heard the sound of raised voices coming from the classroom you had just left. Drying the back of your hands on the front of your dress you hurried to the room as quickly as you could, only to come to a stop as your eyes widened in terror, a gasp leaving your mouth whilst your hand grasped onto the door frame in fear you would lose your balance. There, standing in the middle of the room was your husband, Roberts hand holding onto a chair as Tommy loomed over him. Straightening his coat out Tommy turned around to the sound of your presence.
" Hello darling" your husband said, his hands casually in his suit trousers as a wicked smile grew on his lips, his eyes roaming over your body. He had found you.
Letting go of the door frame you started to walk backwards, tears welling in you eyes as you looked back at your husband, his eyes darkening, his face taunt with anger as he waited for you to do what he knew you would.
" One, two, three..." Tommy started to count as if this was a game of hide-and-seek, and he was the seeker. Shaking your head tears fell down your cheeks as you prepared yourself to run, the sound of his countdown ringing in your ears. But Tommy never would count to ten. With the smirk growing on his face, Tommy stopped at three, his eyebrow raised as he took one step forward and you took one step back. Spinning around you ran to the front door as quickly as you could, slamming it shut as the sound of your husband's footsteps chasing after you rapidly approached.
" Y/N Shelby!" Tommy shouted as he ran after you, a sinister smile dancing on his lips. This was all a game to him, he was enjoying it." You never was very good at hiding" he shouted as he watched you run around the corner out on to the road.
" Come on sweetheart, don't I get a kiss from my long-lost wife" he said sarcastically as he hunched down pulling his gun out. Now ducked down running along the opposite side of the hedge Tommy watched you through the small holes in the hedgerow as you rapidly walked down the country lane wiping the tears from your eyes.
"Run rabbit, run rabbit, run run run, don't give the farmer his fun, fun, fun " Tommy sang as you abruptly stopped in the middle of the road your eyes darting left and right as panic coursed through your body. Turning around you looked back to the top of the road when you suddenly heard someone pushing their way through the hedge, the cock of a gun echoing along the country lane. With a trembling body your turned back around, tears cascading down your face as your eyes turned to see Tommy standing right behind you, his gun pointed straight at you.
"Lost little bunny?"
NEXT PART
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