#polly shelby x daughter

[toms-cherry-trees]

Hi Mars, congratulations again on 1.5K, what a milestone :D Here with a gif blurb request for Polly, thought this gif could possibly be an interesting combo with angst. Excited to see what it'll inspire in you :)

This one was a challenge! So welcome to my first Polly writing ever! I did not know if you wanted it romantic or platonic or filial so I went for a motherxdaughter relationship. Hope this fills up the expectations!

And a most MASSIVE thank you to @runnning-outof-time aka lovely K for proofreading my first ever Polly writing!! ILYSM

Mars 1.5K Celebration

Smoke || Polly Gray x Adoptive Daughter! Reader

Warnings; Angst, some brief description of injuries, minor and major character death

The smacking of the bill stacks against the wooden table feels like a smack directly to your face; the two neatly piled wads before you hold more money than you’ve ever owned before and probably will ever own. But the money does not feel like tickets to freedom and peace; they feel like bricks tied to your ankles, dragging you to the bottom of an unknown darkness. 

Before you, sitting across the battered desk, Polly’s piercing eyes are fixed upon your wavering expression. She still dons mourning attire, even though it’s been long weeks since John and Michael went up in flames and smoke on an open field, each laid to the final rest in vardos and surrounded by every terrenal possession they ever held dear, plus a few lead bullets the coroners could not be bothered to remove. You had personally sewn each bullet wound up with needle and thread, wanting them to go onto the next life as whole persons and not just fleshy colanders. 

The minutes tick by loudly in the clock hanging behind her. While each second clocked in perfect sync, your heart hammers in erratic mess, blood rushing to your head and abandoning your legs, making your stand weak and shaky and threatening to send you to your knees. You have to grip onto the edge of the desk for support, your eyes closing as you focus on your breathing to stop the dizzying spinning of your head.

You exhale slowly to regain your composure enough to speak, but only one word leaves your lips “Why?”

“There is 2500 pounds in there. It is more than enough for you to buy a ticket far away from here, rent a place and get yourself a job” She speaks with the same certainty and professional tone she occupies during company meetings. As if you are nothing more than another employee in their payroll, and not a member of the family for the best part of your life.

“Polly, why?” You plead again, coming to sit across from her, staring straight into those stern eyes of hers through the smoke of her cigarette. With the white swirls around her, the Black Madonna around her neck and that black lace veil over her hair, she looks ready to start a seance. An aura of mysticism and ominousness that always drew you to her as a child, making you follow her wherever she went, hoping in your infantile mind to see her cast spells or speak to animals. 

“If you are ever in need of more, write to me at the office’s address and I will see that help comes to you, but you are not to set foot near any of us or into Birmingham. My driver will take you to your home to pack and then to London, but from then on you are on your own”

Oh, the Shelbys innate ability to ignore whatever others are speaking when it is not convenient for their agenda. But some of that ability had rubbed on you over the years; the key stood in being the loudest and angriest in the room.

“Polly!” You smack your fist against the table, rattling the glass ashtray and the neatly laid pens by the inkpot. Her eyes widen, but the bewilderment lasts only a fleeting second; she soon composes her carefully crafted cold facade again, the same one she has been wearing ever since the bullets rained like hellfire on her son and nephew. 

“Polly, why?” The hurt and desperation laced in your words do little to sway her unwavering indifference “Why are you pushing me away from my family” Your tremulous hands clasp hers tightly, your soul feeling like a boat facing the storm and clinging onto its last mooring for survival.

“We are not your family” Somehow, her retreating her hand from your loving grasp stings more than the words themselves, recoiling from your touch like she were retreating from a thankful beggar to whom she spared a few loose coins “What I did back then was charity, but it is time you find your own way. I cannot keep you under my wing forever”

Charity. Charity. Is that all she saw you as? A ward she took out of pity, and had now grown into a pesky burden?

The full story tangled and fogged in your mind, the fine details having been lost over time and life, but the bulk of it remained clear in your memory. Your parents succumbed to hunger and disease roughly around the same time Polly had her own children snatched away, taken away by the parish and the inherent cruelty they possessed for the poor and helpless. A mother who found herself with her arms empty, and a child who had no one to hold her; the turns of life brought you two together to fill in the gnawing gaps left within your hearts. Polly raised you under her guarding veil, surrounded by her candles and her saints and her prayers, and the quiet cries she often hid in her pillow whenever one of her kids’ birthdays passed. The smell of smoke and sandalwood evoked her memory in your brain. Her tender hands had braided your hair and wiped your tears in the same beat they had fired guns and threatened men and women alike.

The same hands that now pushed you away like a puppy abandoned on the side of the road. 

“I am not stupid Polly” It takes all your strength to not let your voice quiver “This is because of the Italians, isn’t it? Cause of what happened to John and Michael. You think they will come after me too” This has to be it, no? This has to be the reason. You cannot see it otherwise, why would your mother in all but blood reject you so abruptly? The logic feels so solid and obvious it soothes you in a way, and you cling onto that hope desperately. 

Her head falls back, a cruel, cold burst of laughter emerging from her lips “Don’t be stupid, they are after our family, not our employees” Another jab at your heart; Polly Gray is hellbent on picking at every soft spot you possess. And what could be a more sensible topic than your parentage? Taken in, raised as one of them, fed from the same table and dressed from the same clothes. But nothing changed your true status; an outsider. Never a true Shelby nor Gray; you were not her daughter, even if you had filled in during her absence for nearly twenty years

“Polly, you don’t have to do this” Your pleading words and your tearful eyes could barely show the true turmoil you feel inside “I don’t want to leave. I cannot leave you, not now! I can defend myself, you taught me how! Please don’t push me away” You never thought you’d feel pain like this; you had been too young back in the day to understand the grief of losing your parents, but now? You are thankful, for you are sure if you had felt such pain at that tender age, you would have died of a broken heart.

Polly remains silent as she methodically lights another cigarette, taking her time to inhale a long drag. The smoke swirls around her face and stings her eyes it seems; the corners have reddened and they seem watery. But she fans the smoke away with a harsh wave of her hand and picks up her purse “Enough of this. I have to go and so do you. My driver will take you where you need” She stood and slipped on her coat; a coat you had gifted her for her birthday, back when money remained tight. You had personally purchased the materials and tailored the piece yourself to fit her perfectly. 

As she makes an attempt to walk past you, you grab her sleeve, a vice grip around her wrist. But she keeps her back turned to you, one foot set forward and ready to exit the office. She tugs on your grasp, but you are not relenting. She is sand between your fingers and you are futilely clinging to the last grains

“Mother, please” Your voice is small, evoking the same tone you used as a small child, newly come under her care, still clinging onto the dream that someday your parents would return for you. The same vulnerability and innocence, and the maddening desire to not be abandoned again.

But your tears and your pleas do not move her heart. She yanks from your hold with such ferocity the seams of the sleeve snag

“If I see you back into the city, I will chase you out myself”

And those are the last words Polly Gray has for the daughter she no longer has

~

The whistling of the train urges the travellers to climb, steam filling in the platform as the train employees parade down the long row of carriages, slamming doors closed and helping late comers to haul their bags up. You sit alone in a compartment, your suitcases packed in the overhead shelves and a small pile of notes resting at your side. You have left home in such a hurry you did not have time to warn your landlady, nor your friends nor the woman for whom you babysit every Wednesday. You write letters for them offering sincere apologies and vague explanations, citing urgent work matters, blaming your health, and even adding the appearance of a long lost family member to excuse such a hasty departure. You do not include your new address, for you don’t have one yet; all that awaits for you at the end of the journey is uncertainty.

The whistle blows one last time, another plume of steam shrouding the platform. Amongst the mist you think you see her; black coat and black veil, and shoes brought from Paris, with the delicate heel and the golden crossbar over the foot. You stand so abruptly the letters spill on the floor, the pen shattering and spilling ink all over your hard work. Your hands and cheeks are pressed to the cold glass, but the crystal is fogged and you can barely make out any form outside in the cold winter afternoon. You see the black shadow moving away, and you smash your gloved fists against the glass, chanting her name like a prayer. But it is too late; the engine starts and the station is left behind, alongside your last hope of reconciliation and your home.

~

You are not sure you saw her, but she saw you. She saw you bent over something in your lap, brows furrowed in concentration and shoulders slouched. It takes a lot of effort to restrain her from calling you out and remind you to keep the shoulders tight, like she did so many times as you grew up from awkward childhood into comely adolescence. Polly wonders if you had time to pack food for the journey, and makes note to comb your flat later to make sure you have not forgotten anything; you are always so lackadaisical, one ought to give thanks your head is glue to your body. In the train travels a trusted aide of hers; he will tail you, wherever you go, to ensure you find a safe home and proper job. Every step you take he will report to her, and every person who crosses your path he will check to keep any wandering enemies away. That much she can do to keep you safe. That, and keep you as far away from herself as she can; the Shelbys are cursed, all of them, and they bring nothing but pain and death to those they love the most.

As the train at last begins to move, she rolls down her veil and walks away from your window. Amidst the steam and under the black gauze and lace, it is easier to hide the tears.

[look-at-the-soul]

My refuge

Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)

Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt Thank you for sharing this incredible idea around, I decided to give it a try, but I highly encourage any other writer who wants to join in because the way I approach it. Might be completely different…

I think this idea was the perfect match to celebrate K @runnning-outof-time 3K followers celebration! 🌹🌷💐🌺🌼Congratulations dear K, I adored your Tales from the Garden theme and had this visual idea of the garden…

“Daddy? I brought some tea.”

Tommy looked towards the door, where you were standing poking only your head inside his office, his heart still skipped a beat every time he heard you call him that.

“You can come in sweetheart.” He stamped his cigarette in the ashtray.

Michael sighed loudly as you interrupted their conversation, his annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

“Frances helped me bake cookies, I hope you like it.” Y/N smile made Tommy smile as well, how could he reject you something? If his only daughter wanted him to eat a cookie, he’d eat a fucking cookie.

“Thank you love.”

Michael scoffed again, watching the interaction.

“Will you be busy for the rest of the afternoon?” You asked sweetly as your father took another sip of his tea.

“Why?”

“Because you promised we’d go riding.”

Tommy’s expression softened.

He stood up immediately, looking in Michael’s direction. “We’ll see this tomorrow.”

“What? No, Tommy I need y-”

“Michael.” Tommy warned giving his cousin a death stare, he wouldn’t repeat himself.

Turning his back at him, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket, and started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

Michael looked annoyed at you and then at Tommy, he felt a strong dislike for the long lost daughter that suddenly appeared, making his cousin a soft, ridiculous, old man.

Michael grabbed the papers from Tommy’s desk and stormed out of the office without a word.

“He’s always angry.” You stated with a giggle, making your father chuckle.

“Let’s go my darling.” He took the remaining of his tea in one big gulp and then the cookies you baked to eat on the walk to the stables.

It was impossible to not feel calmer around you, Tommy noticed. Realizing how full of life he felt, how much he wanted to protect you.

On their way to the stables, you stopped to smell one of the bushes with pink roses. Your Dad, who was usually in a hurry, stopped on his tracks to take in the moment, wishing he could be more like you. But deep down he knew he wasn’t made to enjoy simple moments like those.

“I love your garden, I could spend all day sitting here surrounded by this beauty.”

Tommy felt constantly in awe by the things that made you smile, his mind trying to storage every moment, every word, trying to make up for the time he lost.

He stayed quiet as the two of you were riding, thinking of how much you and the woman he once loved looked alike.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with Michael?” You asked worried. “Sorry, I thought you were free.”

“What? No, none of that, you’re my priority from now on.”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

Tommy was forced to look up at you, fighting against the lump in his throat. “You look exactly like your mother.”

Without even knowing, you had started a revolution within him, made him go back in time when he was young and carefree.

“How did you and Mum meet?” The question had been on your mind for a while, you looked in his direction with curiosity, not understanding the reason why everyone looked at your father with fear in their eyes, he was the sweetest man on earth.

Tommy took his time to think of how to elaborate a proper answer.

“I saw her at an Appleby fair, she was dancing with other girls… she was like a magnet, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” For an instant, he was back in time into that very moment.

“What happened then?” Your face lit up, moved to have this little piece of information, for years, you only knew your mum’s side of the story, now, it was time to get both.

“She asked me out to dance with her, then it started to rain heavily and the fair was canceled, we went to my caravan and I’ve never been happier,” Tommy stopped and winked at his daughter, “until you stood in my front door.”

“She always talked about you, until her very last breath.”

“I wish I could prevent her parents taking you both away from me… but when I went to France and sent her letter with no answer, eventually, I stopped writing.” A heavy sigh abandoned his body as he stopped by a tree.

In more ways than he thought, talking about your mother helped him heal a part of his heart that had been broken for a little over two decades.

You came down from the horse and saw how your father secured both next to a tree.

A tender hand came to rest to the side of your face. “I’m just so glad you found me.”

There was a bittersweet look in his eyes, you noticed.

“I made quite an entrance, fighting off the maid, telling her, no I demanded a word with you.”

Small lines appeared around his eyes. “Like the good Shelby that you’re.”

“You never doubted for a second?”

But your Dad was already shaking his head. “No way, I knew it was you in that very moment.” He admitted, in his mind images of that day playing in his mind.

He was running late that morning and as commotion was happening downstairs, he rushed with a gun ready. Even from afar, as he took in your features, he knew it was you.

“But I confirmed it when I saw the broken Black Madonna around your neck.”

You looked at him confused.

“Back then I didn’t own anything,” he explained bending one knee, “so one day I found this broken Madonna relic, it was missing the hook to attach it to the chain, so the owner of the stand gave it to me for free, I tried to fix it and gave it to your mum for one of her birthdays.”

“That’s beautiful.” You touched it, feeling your heart beat under your hand.

Saving these memories in the deepest part of your soul.

You talked for hours, Tommy had never felt more free to speak his mind, his fears , his dreams, he realized his daughter understood him at a level nobody else did. You were his blood, and the exact same image of your mother.

***

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” Tommy walked into his office not realizing the door didn’t close completely.

“Finally after canceling this bloody meeting so many times.” Michael sighed as Tommy entered the office.

“I like your enthusiasm Michael, hopefully you will still carry that around by the end, ey?”

Leaning back, Michael tilted his head, he was clearly annoyed with the delay.

“Hopefully someone won’t interrupt us this time around over a fucking cup of tea or to go and pick up wild flowers to make a crown.”

The cigarette Tommy was about to light didn’t reach his lips, as he stopped midway.

“What didya say?” Tommy squinted his eyes.

“I said I’m fucking tired of your daughter interrupting us every single time-”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N Shelby.” Tommy dragged his words slowly, leaning his palms on his desk staring deeply into his cousin’s eyes.

“I don’t know you anymore, since when you push everything to the side Tommy? This business demands your full attention an-”

“Since she showed up in my doorstep!” Tommy slammed the desk with his hand, his voice raising. “After being away from me for twenty years, it really shouldn’t be a surprise she has become my priority now.”

“Michael.” Polly tried to warn him.

But Tommy raised his hand, to let him speak.

“I just can’t stand how you immediately turn into a fucking puppy as soon as she walks into any room, her little happy bubble is fucking annoying, this is a serious business and we don’t need a child with a bouncy bow interrupting everyone fucking meeting.”

Tommy remained quiet for a few seconds, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Are you done, Michael?”

“I mean if you want to take some time apart from the company to spend time to work on your family bond.”

As you took the last step of the staircase, you noticed the voices coming from your father’s office, it was probably your family as you noticed Polly’s voice.

Walking closer to join them and before you could reach the knob, you heard something that stopped you on your tracks.

John couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing.

“You definitely look like a fucking puppy, you can’t deny it… as soon as you see Y/N you turn into a fucking marionette, she does whatever she wants with you.”

“She turned you into a softy, brother.” The voice of your uncle Arthur pointed.

“Sometimes I wonder what the hell is she doing in a place like this.” Michael stated in a serious tone. “She doesn’t match the Shelby energy. What if someone comes at her? Does she even know how to use a fucking gun?”

Your heart sank to the floor, listening to what they thought of you.

Then it was your aunt Ada’s voice what you heard next. “She’s just a happy girl.”

“Ada knew how to use one at her age.” Polly admitted, you saw her over the slightly open door looking into her purse.

“Little Finn knew how to shoot before he was eight.” Arthur informed them.

“She’s a weakness, Tommy,” Michael insisted, “her happy bubble will lead us all into trouble someday.”

And for the first time, you felt anger building inside your body.

“Even Charlie seems to be more keen to be part of the business.”

With an unknown courage, you pushed the heavy door and stared at each of them. Shock reflected on their faces.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I’m sorry for being in my little, weak bubble, but you’re probably right… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t be a fucking Shelby.”

You didn’t waste another second to listen their answer, you turned your back at them and stormed out of the office, rushing towards the doors.

“Y/N wait!”

“Shit, how long has she been listening behind the door?” Ada asked.

“Did she really curse?” John asked shocked.

“I hope you’re fucking happy now, look at what you caused.” Tommy spat at Michael, leaving his family to go after his daughter.

But he wasn’t fast enough to go after you, when he reached the fountain, your small figure had already disappeared from his eyesight.

Looking down, he found the ribbon you always wore around your hair on the floor, about to fly away with the wind. Crounching down, he took it between his fingers, kicking himself internally at the thought of you feeling hurt.

“Get me the horse!” He barked, realizing how he wouldn’t be able to reach you by car.

You felt the way your heart was beating, uncontrollably while the tears blurred your vision. Realizing how silly you felt by thinking that you had found your place.

Being a Shelby by name wasn’t enough for them, no, you had to cut people’s eyes and be ruthless and clearly, you weren’t like that.

And you’d never be.

Your legs were burning from running, after moving aimlessly you sank down, finally letting out a sob from the deepest part of your soul.

You felt broken inside, sad because no matter what, you would never be a part of their world, you didn’t understand the family business, didn’t feel familiar with weapons, you were weak according to them.

Perhaps Michael was right after all.

Back at the house Polly scolded her son for the words he said, should mind his own business and stay away from you.

“You have to change that bloody attitude, Y/N is one sweet little child, she lost her mother.”

“She’s not a child and Charlie lost his as well and he doesn’t go trying to get Tommy’s attention all the fucking time.”

“It’s a different dynamic Michael, you can’t expect them to behave the same.” Ada interrupted him.

“Y/N and Tommy have a special bond.” Polly admitted sipping on her tea. “You can see it in his eyes… Y/N’s mother was the love of his life.”

“I don’t remember her much.” Ada expressed pouring herself some whiskey.

“I didn’t even know he had a secret relationship with her.” Arthur sighed.

“They were young and in love.” Polly explained, she had covered her nephew a couple of times from his father for not being around, lied saying she asked him to run some errands. “She was a good girl, but I never saw her again. Guess her parents moved out angry when they realized she was pregnant.”

“I can’t find her.” Tommy announced with his breath caught up in his throat and a panic look in his eyes. “Arthur, John come with me. Ada take the car around,” he clicked his fingers. “Want every single maid looking for Y/N.”

Then, he threw his cousin a death stare. “If anything happens to me daughter… you’re a death man.”

Tommy couldn’t conceive the idea of you being out on your own at night, he needed to protect you.

In his heart he made a promise to your mother the day you showed up in his house with the letter she wrote him, explaining everything; how her parents sent her away to live with an aunt in the mountains when they found out she was pregnant, they let her keep you but under the condition of being raised as a sister and not daughter.

And he was failing.

Defeated, he rode back home, trying think a plan to find you. Where would you go?

He felt desperate and frustrated, about to explode from the worry, after returning to the property finally he stopped to let someone take his horse to drink some water after spending hours looking out for you. Taking his watch from the pocket in his vest he noticed it was close to sunset now and it would get cold.

If only he could tell you how much you meant to him.

They looked for you at the stables and around Arrow House, but you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy started to feel like a lion inside a fucking cage, he needed to calm down to think where would you go, looking to his right, his eyes fixed on a bush and that gave him the hint to go and look at the garden.

Feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Tommy was determined to find you so he entered the maze. He followed the herbaceous border and took a right to find the fountain, walking past the yew buttresses. Wiping the sweat from his chin, he noticed a silhouette sitting by the steps of the gazebo.

And he couldn’t feel more joy in his chest, recognizing immediately it was you.

“Y/N.” He whispered out of breath.

You were pale and didn’t answer him.

Once more, he called your name, finally getting close enough to touch you. “Wake up baby girl.”

“Daddy?” You blinked away a few times, taking in your surroundings.

“You’re so cold.” He took his coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders.

The previous events slowly coming back into your memory. You probably fell asleep after crying endlessly.

“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to the Shelby name.”

“Oh my darling you could never disappoint me.” He rocked your body slightly, trying to warm you up with his hands. “You have more heart than anyone in that house.”

“I dreamed of Mum… she gave me a hug and a kiss and said it would all be alright, because I’ve you.”

Tommy wasn’t able to answer as the words got caught up in his throat, so he did something he rarely did.

His arms wrapped around your back and he pushed you in a tight hug.

One that was repairing him from the inside out. One that was repairing his broken heart.

“I know my girl, cause she will always be with us.” He kissed your hair and looked up in the starry night thinking of your mother and how much he had loved her. “Let’s get you home.”

From afar, Polly witnessed the interaction knowing nothing in this world would ever tear you and Tommy apart.

“But they don’t think I belong here.”

“You belong here way more than any of them, this is your house and this is your family and they’ll have to learn to accept the fact that you’re the light of my eyes.”

And your eyes lit up by your fathers words, tears of happiness making your vision go blurry.

“I ordered the gardener to create this for you, it’s not finished yet though… I wanted you to feel in this place at home.”

Slowly, you broke away the embrace to look at your father, with a tender touch, he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“This is for you.” He encouraged with a smile. “It was a surprise I was saving for later.”

Taking in your surroundings, you couldn’t believe the beautiful oasis before your eyes. You haven’t noticed before.

“Daddy!” Your hands flew to your mouth. “That’s white daffodils.”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh don’t expect me to know that.”

“These are peonies!” You were delighted. “And irises.”

Tommy saw you moving around the garden, enjoying the peace you being happy in this place brought him.

Taking you by the shoulders, he made you turn around to face the gazebo.

“I particularly love that… imagined you sitting there for hours.”

You were lost in the colors and smell, but soon you turned around to look at your father.

“Thank you for giving me this.” Your arms found their way around his body, time stood still.

“I was hoping this would be your refuge.” Tommy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Can we join the hug?” Ada interrupted, making you both turn around.

“I’m sorry about what Michael said,” your aunt Pol apologized, “I do enjoy your cheerful energy.”

“It’s a balm to this fucking family madness.” Ada explained.

They each linked their arms around you tenderly.

“You’re a sweet child and I love you.” Arthur blushed but joined the hug as well, behind him, uncle John looked at you.

“When you came into our lives, I knew it was you the one who could make him line up.” John winked at you.

“Come on you two, don’t stay back there.” Ada shouted at Finn and Charlie, who were standing awkwardly a few steps away.

“You’re the sweetest young girl, we love you just like that, Y/N it doesn’t matter what anyone tells you, don’t let this cruel world change you an ounce.” Polly said caressing your face.

And you believed her, them.

She then looked at her nephew.

“You did a wonderful job with this place, Tommy.”

He didn’t need something like this though, since he felt like having you close, was his own kind of refuge. His safe haven.

***

Master list

A/N: Oops this got a bit long 🤭 but there were so many things I needed to add, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

[lilahisntsadanymore]

Engaged to an Italian man and carrying a secret pregnancy, Y/n must decide when and how to reveal the news to her notorious family.

The reader pronouns: she/her

Pairings: the Shelby family x shelby!reader x OC (faceclaim Lorenzo Zurzolo)

Words count: 2.4k

Tw: mentions of death, pregnancy, italian written by me (but there are english translations)

Additional inf.: Y/n's mother, was made up by me as well

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A Shelby Surprise

Now that the vendetta with Changrettas was over, everyone could take a breath. Finally all the stress was gone and for once the Shelby family wasn't in trouble. They hoped it would stay this way.

The stress was gone, but not for Y/n, Arthur's daughter. What nobody expected coming, she fell in love. What was so unfortunate about this? The man was Italian.

If it happened a few years earlier or a few years later maybe that would have been alright. But not right now when the memory of vendetta was still crystal clear.

The man Y/n fell in love with wasn't a Changretta, but she supposed it wouldn't matter to her family. As long as the vendetta was still a fresh topic, he would be a bad man in their eyes.

As if the problem wasn't big enough, Y/n got pregnant. The man knew about it and wanted to be present in the kid's life, he even proposed to Y/n. But the challange was to tell Y/n's family about it.

So there she was - calling each family member, inviting them for a little 'party'. Y/n had no experience in this stuff, so she considered it the best way, telling everyone at the same time when they're gathered together.

"It'll be fine," Y/n's fiance said, squeezing her hand lightly. "What's the worst that could happen? Will they murder me?" He laughed.

"You really didn't know what you're signing up for when you fucked a Shelby, did you?"

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Non voglio dirgli della gravidanza,"* Y/n paced around the living room, waiting for the guests to arrive. "What if we only tell them about our engagement?"

*I don't want to tell them about the pregnancy

"Non possiamo, cara mia. La noteranno prima o poi."**

**we can't, my dear. They'll notice it sooner or later.

Right after those words, the sound of knocking filled the room.

Y/n took a deep breath. "Hide upstairs, Nicco. I'll call for you when it's the right time."

The man walked in the direction she instructed as she herself went to open the door.

The Shelby clan. In front of Y/n's doors. Waiting to be let inside. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to tell everyone in the same time.

Despite her running heartbeat, Y/n tried to stay calm as she greeted each person that entered her house.

Something was off when Y/n hugged aunt Polly. The woman eyed her up and down. Did she know? Most likely. She sensed it when Lizzie was pregnant, so why wouldn't she now?

"You probably wonder why we've gathered here today." Y/n spoke, her gesturing more intense than ever. She tried to make her voice sound as light and free of stress as possible, but it was a difficult thing to do due to the anxious feeling in her stomach. Either the stress or the baby inside was making Y/n want to puke right there.

"Yes, we'd love to know." Polly said, a faint smile on her face.

Everyone had their eyes glued to Y/n. Ada watched the girl with worry, as well as Linda who treated Y/n as her own, Polly was fighting the smile from completely ruling on her face, Finn looked extremely confused, Tommy lit up a cigarette.

"Are you in trouble?" Arthur asked eventually.

"Yes and no." That answer didn't clear up anything.

"What do you mean?"

A nervous laugh escaped Y/n's mouth. "Do you remember mum? My mum, your wife, who died many years ago?"

Arthur nodded confusedly. How could he not remember her? He would never forget that amazing woman, who gave him love, hope and a beautiful daughter and then passed away too soon.

"I remember Georgia." Arthur didn't want to talk about her. Years passed and now he had Linda, but the wound caused by his first wife's death was still open.

"Dad, her name was Giorgia. She was Italian, don't try to rewrite that story. The reason why I'm reminding you about it is..." Y/n hesitated fr the last time, "I hope you'll understand my situation."

The times were different back when Arthur and Giorgia were together. Back then, she was just a simple girl who moved to England from Italy and fell in love with a man from Birmingham. There wasn't any vendetta, so their relationship wasn't such a sensitive topic, but nevertheless Y/n hoped her father would understand.

"Can you stop the charade?" Tommy chimed in impatiently.

Y/n nodded. "Niccolò, come here!"

The tall, brownhaired man walked down into the living room. He was dressed in a white shirt, black trousers and elegant black shoes.

"Everyone, this is Niccolò. Niccolò, this is my family."

Everyone eyed the man. Tommy and Arthur were especially suspicious about him.

Niccolò shook hands with each Shelby, taking the time to introduce himself better and get to know everyone.

When the man lastly got to Arthur and Tommy, they refused to shake hands with him, their arms remaining crossed on his chest.

Arthur looked at his daughter. "Why are you introducing him to us?"

"Seriously?" Y/n sighed. "Dad, are you this clueless?"

"Yes, Arthur, are you this clueless?" Polly asked with a full smile on her face now.

Arthur wasn't clueless. He suspected, he knew, but he didn't want it to be the truth.

"Niccolò is my fiance."

The room fell almost silent, if it wasn't for Finn's coughing. He choked on the air and smoke, he was lighting up a cigarette when Y/n broke the news. Finn was her uncle, but they were rather like siblings to each other, because Y/n was even a few years older than Finn.

"He's your what?" Arthur asked.

"Fiance. I'm sorry I haven't told you before, but I was afraid of your reaction."

"An Italian, eh?" Tommy interrogated, shifting his gaze to Niccolò. "Who are your parents? What do they do?"

Y/n added, "O digli il tuo cognome e lo scoprirà entro domani."***

***or say your last name and he'll find it all out by tomorrow

Niccolò smirked and the girl's comment, but then turned back to being serious. "They moved to this country before I was born. My father died in the war, but my mother has a flower shop in London."

"A flower shop?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "That's interesting."

"I see what you're doing," Y/n said, "Nicco has nothing to do with the Changrettas."

"It's just funny how he appears in your life exactly when-"

"Yes, vendetta, I know. Can we talk in private, dad?"

Arthur and his daughter walked out of the room into a small kitchen. Y/n leaned on the kitchen counter.

"Can you stop?"

"Stop what?" Arthur asked. "I'm just trying to get to know my future son-in-law."

"Can you do it without making it seem like you're looking for a correlation between him and the Changrettas?"

"I don't want him to hurt you. Or any of us. Isn't it any suspicious to you?"

"It's a stupid coincidence!"

Arthur sighed, looking at his daughter with a mixture of concern and skepticism. "Y/n, you know how things are around here. We've been through hell with the Changrettas, and now you bring an Italian man into our lives. You can't expect me not to be cautious."

"I understand, but he's not connected to the Changrettas in any way. I wouldn't put our family in danger like that," Y/n pleaded.

Arthur rubbed his forehead, contemplating the situation. "You could have at least given us a heads up. This is a lot to take in all at once."

He was trying his best to remain calm. The old Arthur would've bursted out of the house a long time ago, but now he was in control of his emotions.

A lot to take at once. Prepare for more, then, Y/n thought.

"I know, dad, but I was scared. Exactly because of that. I'm sorry, but we really do love each other."

"Just promise me, if anything feels wrong, you'll let me know. I don't want you keeping secrets."

"I promise, dad. I won't keep secrets. I want us to be a family, including Niccolò."

Arthur forced a smile. "Alright, let's go back out there. I'll try my best to keep an open mind, for your sake."

Poor Niccolò was left alone with the Shelbys. It was a weight off his shoulders when Y/n was back in the room.

Everyone looked at Arthur curiously. He spoke. "We'll give it a chance. But you," he pointed at Niccolò, "hurt her, and there won't be a place on earth you can hide from us."

Niccolò nodded respectfully. "I understand, sir."

"Can we all just enjoy the evening and celebrate this occasion that is our engagement?" Y/n asked cheerfully.

The atmosphere felt lighter, the family peacefully continued the gathering. Most of them wanted to trust Niccolò and give him a chance.

Arthur and Thomas kept a close eye on Niccolò throughout the night. Their suspicions weren't easy to put to rest, but for Y/n's sake they chose to keep their mouths shut this one time.

After dinner Y/n and Niccolò managed to talk to Finn alone. Y/n decided that the pregnancy would be too much for just one evening and all her fiance could do was accept it. However, they trusted Finn with this information.

"Finn, we have to tell you something." Y/n said after she made sure everyone else is busy.

"Oh no, another big news?" Finn whined. "I don't know if this family can handle more tonight."

"That's why we wanted to talk to you alone," Niccolò pointed out, "it's a secret."

Y/n added, "A secret just for you, Finn. The mission is to keep it until we can tell the others. You understand, soldier?"

"Alright, I guess." Finn agreed with a curious expression on his face. "You didn't kill anybody, did you?"

"No, of course we didn't."

"Quite the opposite," Niccolò added with a chuckle. "Y/n is pregnant."

Finn raised his eyebrow and joked. ""Engaged and having a baby... You didn't waste any time, did you?"

"Proposing is the right action to make once you knock somebody up," Nicco chuckled, "but seriously, it was actually planned."

Y/n giggled, "Life comes at you fast, Finn. Engaged and having a baby. We wanted to share the news with you first."

"Besides it'd be a lot to handle in one evening." Niccolò grinned. "We'll make the announcement in the right time."

Finn shook his head in disbelief, "I can't believe you decided to put so much pressure on me!" He laughed. "Am I supposed to lie to Tommy and Arthur?"

"Like you haven't lied to them before." Y/n pointed out sarcastically. "They aren't going to ask you any questions."

As they headed back to join the family, Finn couldn't help but wear a mischievous grin. The rest of the Shelbys continued their celebration oblivious to the news.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

A few days later, aunt Polly paid a visit to Y/n and Niccolò, surprising the both of them. Despite the surprise, they couldn't not let her inside.

"I need to talk to Y/n," the woman said, "it's a ladies business. Be so kind, Niccolò, and find something to do for the next... half an hour."

Niccolò raised an eyebrow at the request but decided not to push it. "Alright, take your time, ladies." He grabbed his coat, a pack of cigarettes and walked outside.

Polly and Y/n settled into the living room, the air heavy with curiosity. Polly took a moment, eyeing Y/n.

"I know you're hiding something," the woman said, lighting up a cigarette, "and I wanna hear it from you. I'm giving you a chance here."

"Am I hiding anything?" Y/n tried to convinvnce Polly that she was wrong. But she knew the woman has been a little different recently.

Tommy and Michael thought she's starting to go crazy or maybe it's the alcohol that she seemed to be drinking a bit more often, but Polly knew she had been blessed. Blessed with the gift of contacting spirits, predicting certain things.

"Let's start from here. Are you keeping it?"

Y/n's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not gonna tell your father if you don't want me to. I was in your shoes once. I know a place, we will go there and-"

"Yes, I'm keeping it."

Polly smiled widely. "That's wonderful. Would you like to know if it's a boy or a girl?"

"We want it to be a surprise. Besides I don't think it's safe to do... whatever magic you do on a pregnant woman."

"It's not magic, my dear. You can't read cards or tea leaves for a pregnant woman, but I just sense it's a-"

"A surprise. Please, please, please, I really don't wanna find out yet."

"Alright... and now, why didn't you tell us? Any of us?"

"Wasn't that a little bit too much in too little time?" Y/n scratched the back of her neck nervously. "Didn't wanna add to the chaos."

Y/n decided to not mention the fact that Finn actually knew about it.

Aunt Polly studied Y/n for a moment before nodding approvingly. "Well, love, you've made your bed, now you have to lie in it. But I'm not here to scold you. I just want to make sure you're ready for what's coming."

"I know it won't be easy, but I'm ready. I have a husband, almost. I have a house. We can make it."

"Remember, you also have us. Me and Ada can certainly help you with the baby. I'm sure Linda will also love this new little Shelby."

"The baby isn't going to be a Shelby... I'll go with Nicco's last name."

Polly leaned back, taking a thoughtful drag from her cigarette. "Fair enough. But remember, secrets have a way of coming out, especially in this family. And when they do, it's usually in the most dramatic way possible."

"I'll tell the rest of the family soon... can you come with me to dad and Tommy? I'm a bit scared to tell them..."

"Of course, love. There's nothing you should be afraid of, you're a grown woman. When your mother was your age, you were running barefoot in my backyard."

Y/n smiled at the comment. "Thank you, Aunt Polly. I appreciate your support."

Polly stood up, stubbing out her cigarette. She gave Y/n a hug before heading to the door. "Now, take care of yourself and that little surprise of yours. And let me know when you're ready for me to do whatever 'magic' you think I do."

As Polly left, Y/n couldn't help but be grateful for the unexpected ally in her corner. She suddenly felt much more confident.

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- No More Secrets

This one was requested weeks ago before I was on holiday. I’ve finally gotten round to writing it so here it is! I’m not sure how I feel about this one but I hope you still enjoy.

Disclaimer this does not follow the time line of the tv show at all. The Shelby’s still work at the betting shop and everyone is alive.

I close my mother’s diary and place it in my bag before knocking on the door of the betting shop. Small Heath, my birth place, but mother quickly moved away after I was born. For years she told everyone around her that my father died during the war, that is until she was lying in her bed sick with cancer. The last thing she told me was my father’s name. Thomas Shelby.

Pulling me out of my thoughts the door opens revealing a woman with dark brown hair

“Yes?”

“Hi errm my name is YN I’m…”

“Finally you’re here. We’re over run. Come on” the woman turns around and begins walking towards some huge doors. I follow the woman closely after closing the front door behind me. I’m hit by the noise of shouting as soon as the large doors open “you will be doing the books, counting the money and taking bets. Here is your desk. Have you got any questions?”

“Is Thomas Shelby around?” I ask placing my bag on my desk

“He’s in his office. I’m guessing you’ve heard about him, don’t worry. As long as you do as he asks and leave him be, you’ll get on just fine. Right you’ve got yesterday’s bookings in here. Add them up and count the money. Lunch is 1pm. I’ll come by later to see how your getting on”

The day moves quickly and I manage to get everything done. I learnt the names of everyone at the betting shop, but I’m yet to meet Thomas, my biological father. Everyone else had left, leaving me alone. I collect my things from my desk and look back at his office, he’s not stepped out once. Sighing I place my bag on my shoulder and turn to leave when I hear his office door open and a lot of muttering. Something about how no one can do their job correctly and he’s missing over £100. Frowning I pick up the betting book and take a look at previous days and notice that a John Shelby counted up the bets wrong

“Excuse me, but the bets were counted incorrectly”

“Bloody hell. Who counted them?”

“John Shelby”

“Fuck. I’ll knew I shouldn’t have let him leave school” he groans rubbing his hands over his face “can you go through all of the books?”

“Erm sure, I might need a couple of days to sort it though”

“That’s fine. Now go home it’s getting late. I’ll see you tomorrow”

“Before I go I need to speak to you”

“I’ve got to get home to my wife and son, I’ll see you tomorrow” and with that I watch as he leaves me alone.

As I walk through the street all I can think about is the fact he said he has a wife and son. I wonder how old he is? Will he be the same age as me? Is that why mum never told him about me? Before I know it I’m at my temporary home, it’s not a house it’s a flat, but it suits me for now.

The following morning I arrive at the betting shops early. Once again I’ve got my mums diary in my bag and I’ve decided that today is the day I speak to Thomas about him being my father, even if I have to burst through his office door and…

“YN” he rough voice pulls me out of my thoughts “I have some time now if you wanted to have that conversation”

“That erm that would be great” I pick my bag up and follow Thomas into his office. He nods towards a chair letting me know I can take a seat

“So what did you want to speak to me about?”

“Erm I wanted to ask you about a woman named Nelly YLN” that sound of that name makes him tense up

“What about her?”

“Well she was my mother and I believe you are my biological father”

“What makes you think that?” Thomas raises his eyebrows at me looking unconvinced. I pull out mums diary from my bag and place it in front of us

“This was her diary. I found it after cleaning out her house after she died. She also told me before she passed your name. I had no idea about you until 4 months ago”

“Wait so you’re telling me that Nelly was pregnant and didn’t tell me?” I just nod at him “is this a joke? Are you here for money?”

“What no” my eyes widen at the accusation “for my whole life I believe my father to have died in the war, but then I learn that he didn’t and my mum left him because he never replied to her letters. She told you she was pregnant, but you never replied so she left. I just want to know why. I don’t want any more secrets, I just want to understand why my father didn’t want me”

“Can I?” Thomas motions towards mothers diary

“Sure” I nod feeling mixed emotions. Thomas opens up the book and takes a looks. He reads a few diary entries

“Shit. I never received any letters, if I had I would have written back. I would have been in your life. I would have done what’s right” Thomas hands me the diary back and I put it bag in my bag. A knock on the door makes Thomas stand up “come in” Polly walks in

“We’re about to open. I need YN to go to her desk”

“We will continue this later”

“You still want me to work?” I ask frowning

“Well this is a family business, and since you are family. I’ll speak to you later”

“Thank you” I quickly leave his office and head to my desk ready to start another day of counting money and hopefully help to build this business up even more.

[remuslupinsdaughter]

New Masterlist

Here’s where you’ll find everything I’ve written 🙂

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

The winterwidows child

Bucky Barnes

The winterwidows child

Frank castle

Protect her

Part one part two part three part four

Criminal minds

JJ

Miss momma

Will LaMontagne Jr

Miss momma

Derek Morgan

Suspended

Hospital stays and side effects

Aaron Hotchner

All too much

Hiding from school

Sons of anarchy

Protection

Part one part two part three

Happy Lowmann

Harley Lowmann

Part one Part two

Bloody hands

Mayans M.C.

Angel Reyes

Daddy’s girl

Harry Potter

Remus Lupin

Scared me

Nightmares

Under the weather

Not good enough

Dad Remus headcannons

Christmas

Scared of the bad man

Sirius Black

Nightmares

As long as you need

Scared of the bad man

The Walking Dead

Negan

Scraped knees and kisses better

Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby

Molly Shelby

Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Ooo is anyone interested in writing this request??? Tommy Shelby x long lost daughter where Tommy finds her much like Polly found Michael. Y/n is in her early 20s and she is very sweet, soft, and pretty much dances to the beat of her own drum, pretty much skipping in a flower field and she’s very bubbly (very much the opposite of the rest of her family. Her and Tommy become inseparable and with each other all the time (Tommy is sooo overprotective and loves her so much, and is very soft around her, never raising his voice even the slightest). The whole family (John, Finn, Ada, Polly, and Arthur) absolutely LOVES her and are all super protective of her and gentle with her, except Michael… Maybe he sees her bubbly, soft, and gentle personality as weakness and doesn’t think she belongs in the family’s and doesn’t live up to the “Shelby name”. Maybe Y/n walks in on a meeting that she was excluded from, and hears the family arguing with Michael over this, and Y/n runs off crying, thinking her family doesn’t want her anymore🥺 But they all go and comfort her and prove her wrong🥺

[alimosblog]

Hey, guys!

My friend wants to try to write a fic on Peaky Blinders. Could you write a few requests in the comments?

Mostly with Thomas Shelby!

Thank you in advance💋

[simplyundeniable98]

look at me t.s.

Pairing | Thomas Shelby x Female reader

Summary | When Mrs. Shelby requests Tommy in the room with her for the birth of their first daughter everyone is shocked. Men aren't supposed to be in the room with their wives as they give birth, it's just not how it is supposed to be... well all men aren't Thomas Shelby.

Warnings | Mentions of childbirth, pain obviously she's literally giving birth, maybe ooc Tommy? idk. Reader is a little mean to her doctors but she's in pain cut her some slack. MDNI because I said so. Foul language.

Word Count | .06k

~This is loosely based off of the scene in Queen Charlotte when they won't let George into the room to see Charlotte. If you know what I'm talking about I love you~

All dialogue in italics is spoken in Romani.

"Mrs Shelby forgive me but husbands aren't usually in the room during the birth" The doctor spoke hesitantly as his eyes flicked nervously around the room.

Everyone seemed to speak hesitantly around her. I guess that was what you get when you become a Shelby. Everyone around you is constantly terrified to tell you no or disagree. It was like being royalty in a sort of fucked up way.

Polly Gray cut the doctor a look as she walked over to you and put a reassuring hand on your forehead.

"Polly please" you cried in pain "I need him here." Nothing from the old wive tales could compare to the pain you were feeling. You had been pushing for hours now with Polly at your side but nothing was working. Your daughter simply just would not budge. Polly had made the comment early on about her already showing traits from her father.

"I don't care what usually happens. If Tommy Shelby is not in this room in the next five minutes, I will personally end you." You spoke with a hiss pointing at the doctor.

You weren't usually this aggressive, but given the fact you were in pain and used to getting what you wanted all the time, the circumstances were different.

Polly sighed as she looked down at you and began to head out of the room.

"What's wrong, is she okay?" Tommy spoke immediately as Polly exited the doors of your room.

"She's requesting you Thomas" Polly spoke in Romani so as to not alert the other doctors of your request.

"She wants me in the room with her?" He spoke hesitantly as he looked towards the door.

Polly nodded and Tommy immediately started towards the door.

"I'm sorry Mr. Shelby but I cannot allow you to be in the room." The doctor outside of your door spoke as his eyes flicked down to the floor to avoid Tommy's sharp gaze.

"Tell me, doctor, do you like your job?" Tommy spoke with a raised brow as he waited for his response.

When he didn't reply Tommy bent down to reach his gaze "Hmm? I asked you a question doctor, do you like your job?"

"Yes. Yes I like my job" He murmured still avoiding the sharp blue eyes that were currently staring daggers at the man.

"Well if you intend on staying alive long enough to keep it, I suggest you move out of my way." Tommy stood up straight and tilted his head towards the door.

The doctor nodded and stepped aside, letting Tommy enter the room. "If I hear one more word from anyone about my presence in this room, I will have a peaky blinder on each and every one of your doorsteps first thing tomorrow morning" Tommy spoke before anyone could protest.

"Tommy" you gasped as you finally laid eyes on your husband. "I've been asking for you"

"I know, I know. But I'm here now eh? I'm here now." Tommy bent down to give your forehead a kiss as you winced.

"I cant do this Tommy" you cried "I want it to be over"

Tommy's heart broke at the sight of you. His wife. He wished he could just take all of your pain away and keep it for himself.

Tommy bent down to kneel at the side of your bed as he cradled your face in his hands.

"Look at me. Hey, Look at me, love." He spoke softly as you turned your head to gaze at him with teary eyes.

"You can do this. I know you can. You are the most headstrong women I know, and ill be damned if you give up now." You giggled at his lighthearted teasing and nodded.

"And you don't really have a choice love. This baby has got to come out in one way or another." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at your husband.

"Okay Mrs. Shelby its time to push" Your doctor spoke as Tommy placed a kiss on the hand he had ahold of and nodded at you.

"Let's meet our daughter Mrs. Shelby."

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[acewritesfics]

A Wedding After All  | Tommy Shelby 

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Pregnant!Reader 

Request: No.  

Warnings: Alludes to cheating [I do not condone cheating]. Pregnancy. Past childhood sweethearts. Brief mention of war. One f*ck.

Word Count: 2,103

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Is Tommy in his office, Polly?" Y/N asks as she approaches the woman who has always treated her like a daughter. Her cheeks are flushed after walking as fast as she could to the Shelby Company's headquarters. She's come straight from the doctor's office. 

Polly cast a worried glance towards the younger woman. "You alright, Love?" 

"I need to talk to Tommy," she says, her gaze darting towards Tommy's office. "It's important that I speak with him." 

"He ought to return at any moment. I'm sure you can tell me whatever you need to tell him," Polly remarks as she sees Y/N beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. 

"Sorry, but I can't. I won't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." Y/N is unable to calm herself as nauseous feeling settles in her stomach. 

The Shelby family's Matriarch felt unsure how to handle the current situation she finds herself in. If something bothered her, Y/N would always tell her. She never went to Tommy first with anything since their relationship ended years ago.  

Polly knew the woman Y/N's father married a month after his wife died, and it came as no surprise how viciously she treated the teenage girl, from spreading rumours to physically beating her, while her good for nothing father did nothing to stop his new wife. 

Polly immediately scoured the entire town of Small Heath for Y/N and welcomed her into her home once she learned that she was kicked to the streets when she was fifteen. 

It wasn't long before Polly introduced her to her brother's family. When she met the Shelby siblings, they forged an immediate bond. Ada, the only girl, took to her the most, relieved to have another girl to talk to. The two women are still as thick as thieves to this day. They have a sisterly relationship that not even Tommy could disrupt. 

From the moment they met there was an obvious immediate attraction between Y/N and Tommy.  It didn't take long for their friendship to grow into a romantic love. Their romance was a whirlwind of passion, excitement and love. The two of them only had eyes for each other. Everyone knew she was Tommy's girl, and no one dared to touch her. Even though Tommy had little in common with his father, the Shelby name came with a not-so-great reputation.  

Tommy and Y/N weren't hesitant to call each other out on their foolishness, their confrontations occasionally attracting unwelcome attention. But they never went to bed angry with each other, which sometimes resulted in restless nights spent talking and making up. He had been her first love. 

However, their romance eventually ended when Y/N travelled to London shortly after turning 21 to pursue becoming a nurse. Tommy wanted to promise that he'd wait for her to return to Birmingham because he knew she was the one who he was supposed to marry and spend the rest of his life with. She urged him not to make any promises to her, fearing that their parting would only cause more heartbreak. But Tommy never gave up on her, writing almost every day to persuade her that everything would work out between them. They both held hope that it would until the letters eventually became less frequent as they both became busy with their lives.   

The war broke out two years into her training, and she and many other nurses were deployed to France to care for their countries' wounded. There, she was reunited with her former love. In the midst of tending to the soldier's wounds, their love for one another was rekindled. 

But as the days passed, Tommy's once beautiful vibrant blue eyes turned dull, emotionless, and void as they witnessed people die in the most horrific ways. When the war was over and they were sent home, they went their separate ways once more. 

It wasn't until six months ago that Y/N returned Birmingham. She'd been assigned to work in Small Heath's hospital. She preferred working at this hospital to the one she previously worked at in London. It moved at a slightly slower pace which she enjoyed.  

She reconnected with Polly and the brothers once she had settled back in and called Ada at least three times a week to keep her updated now that she was living in London with her son. Despite Ada's displeasure at Y/N wanting to return to Birmingham, the younger of the two women supported her decision knowing that their hometown was where Y/N belonged. 

Y/N had missed Polly and the brothers and was overjoyed to have them back in her life, as well as to be back in theirs. 

She enjoyed being back in Small Heath, even if her heart was crushed by her own past decisions. She assumed she was over Tommy, that all they'd ever be is friends, and that all her old sentiments for him had vanished. Tommy was her first and only love, so learning that he was now engaged saddened her. Polly attempted to convince her that Tommy never stopped loving her and that this marriage was a waste of time and money once he realises, he's making a mistake.  

But all Y/N saw was the way Tommy's soon-to-be bride looked at him, the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, the way he makes her smile. It was the same way she would look at him. The only difference was he never looked at her the same way he looked at Y/N. He never looked at anyone the way he was before the war. Y/N didn't know if Tommy loved his fiancée, but he was marrying her and that was enough for Y/N to know that her and Tommy will never be more than friends again.  

Y/N didn't want to get in the way of their relationship, so she kept her distance from Tommy. Which had been working until one night nine weeks ago. 

Polly pulls out a cigarette, places it between her lips, and lights it while she continues to watch Y/N pacing the room. She takes in the younger woman's form, seeing the small curvature of her belly as her hands rest over her stomach as if protecting it. 

Then it dawns on her.  

Leaving her cigarette in the ashtray, she moves towards Y/N and stops her from pacing a hole into the floor. Y/N seems surprised as Polly reaches out and gropes her breasts, feeling them for a few seconds before letting go. 

"You're with child," she exclaims, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. She is not a fool. This baby can only belong to one man, and it would be the push the former lovers need to come back together. Tommy, after all, would never abandon the woman who is carrying his child, especially when it's the woman he's been hopelessly in love with since he was sixteen 

"Fuck me," Y/N murmurs more to herself since she should have known Polly would notice. Nothing can ever get past the Romani woman. "Please don't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." 

"My lips are sealed," she assures as she places her hand to Y/N's belly.  "Is she Tommy's then?" 

"She?" Y/N raises an eyebrow in response. She wasn't going to bother responding to Polly question since she already knew the answer. 

"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Polly beams, eliciting a smile from Y/N, who appears to be more at ease. "She'll be beautiful, Y/N, and you'll love her more than you've ever loved anyone, even Thomas. There is no deeper love than that between a mother and her daughter." 

They both have a saddened expression on their faces as they recall who they've lost. Y/N lost her mother, and Polly lost her daughter, but they found what they were looking for in each other. Polly always believed that her daughter and Y/N's mother brought them together knowing that they needed one other. 

"You understand that she'll call you nan, right?"  Y/N says, making Polly smile this time. 

"Of course she is," Polly says, hugging her adopted daughter. She lets go of her, looking over her shoulder as someone walks into the office. 

Y/N becomes tense once more. She doesn't have to turn around to find out who it is since she can always feel Tommy's presence before she sees him. She turns around with a timid smile, the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying as she swallows the lump in her throat. 

"Y/N," he says a little taken aback to see her. 

"Good afternoon, Thomas," she says formally, trying not to seem too anxious. Since the night they spent together nine weeks ago, the two have barely spoken. Polly simply stands between them, smiling. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you." 

"I do," he replies and leads her into his office hearing the urgency in her voice. 

He glances worriedly at Y/N after closing the door. "Is everything okay?" 

"I saw the doctor this morning."  

As he gets closer to her, he grows increasingly worried. "Are you ill?" 

"What I have does cause sickness." She claims unable to look at him. The amount of thinking she did on her walk to the office did not help her at all. 

"What do you have?" He tilts her head so she can look at him. He notices tears welling up in her eyes. 

She takes a deep breath in and out, gathering all her courage to tell him as h er tears begin to fall. "I'm pregnant, Tommy." 

The Peaky Blinder remains calm as thoughts start running through his head. His eyes never leave hers. Y/N searches his eyes trying to find a hint of what he could be feeling or thinking. 

"You are the only one I've been with, Tommy. The baby is yours and I know you are to be married so if you want, I will leave. I'll go back to London and raise her by myself. I just thought since you're the father, you have the right to know and decide what you want to do," She rambles. Removing Tommy's hands off her face, she steps back from him, her arms going around her stomach, bracing herself for his rejection.  

"Or," Tommy finally speaks. "Or, you can stay here, I can marry you and we can finally be a family." 

"Tommy, you're engaged to someone else," She looks at him as though he's delusional, not believing what she's hearing. 

"Not a single day goes by where I don't think about you and what it would be like if we stayed together," he admits. "Because of that, I ended my engagement. I can't marry someone else when the only woman I'll ever love is standing right there in front of me." 

"Tommy, I-"  

"We are going to get married, we are going to have this baby and we are going to be a family," he steps towards her cupping her face again. This thumbs brush away her fallen tears. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispers before kissing her. 

"I love you too, Tommy," she replies when the kiss is broken and Tommy pulls away from her. She watches him go over to his desk, pull something out of the draw and walk back over to her. In his hand is a red velvet ring box. He opens it revealing the gold ring with three red ruby stones surrounded by diamonds. She gasps recognizing his mother's engagement ring. "Your mother's ring." 

"I've been saving it for you," he tells her. "You're the only one I want to wear it. Will you do me the honour in becoming my wife?" 

She nods her head, as the tears start to fall harder. Tommy smiles a rare smile, one that was only reserved for her, and slides the ring onto her finger before he kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms go around his shoulders. 

"Well it's about bloody time," Arthur's gruff voice comes from the doorway causing the reunited couple to part. 

Y/N's cheeks flush red. Tommy can't contain the smile on his face. "Brother, there's going to be a wedding after all." 

"Who's getting married?" John asks missing what Arthur just walked in on. The younger of the three takes in the scene before him, seeing Y/N and Tommy wrapped up in each other. "You two are getting married?" he then asks, looking confused. 

"We're getting more than that," Tommy smiles lovingly at the woman who stole his heart when they were sixteen. 

[theonewiththefanfics]

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that... 

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64​ @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561​ @staryeyedgirl​ @deathbyarabbit​ @m-a-t-91​ @maladaptive-ninja-returns​ @averyrogers83​ @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass​ @dewy-biitch​ @avxgers​ @unlikelygalaxygiver​ @magicwithaknife​ @ollyoxenfrees​ @bnhvrdy​ @tvwhoresblog​ @thatkindofgurl​ @sj-thefan​ @lestersglitterglue​ @im-squished​ @strangersstranger​

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni​ @captivatedbycillianmurphy​ @screemqueen​ @mrsmalfoyshelby​ @theamuz​ @lyarr24​

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Hi I hope you’re well 😊 I’m here to request your thoughts on Tommy Shelby as a father. Like how many kids you’d think he would have had if he only had one love interest (no falling in love with Grace or marrying Lizzie). Or if you think he’d be a girl or boy dad (personally i’d like to think he’d be a girl dad and have a big family haha). You can make this headcanon or just simply respond to this ask however you’d like! Thank you for taking the time to read and answer 🥰

Thomas Shelby as a Father

Tommy x Fem!Reader

Trope: Wait till your father gets home Warnings: Angst, spoilers for most of the series, period-typical sexism, references to past ab-se.

What we see of Tommy as a father is that he's distant and seemingly detached. This, I feel, is because of his trauma in losing Grace and his growing obsession with obtaining power.

We do see that Tommy is aware of his children's emotional state but seems unable to comfort his son. He goes as far as to have Arthur be the one to talk to his son about why he had to shoot his horse.

Tommy clearly cares about his children. He runs through a field of landmines to save his son, when he had almost stepped on one to purposely end his own life. Tommy goes nearly mad when he finds out Alfie Solomons was involved with the enemy that kidnapped his son. He shot Alfie for that betrayal with the intent to kill.

When Ruby became ill and he thought was all due to a curse, Tommy hunted the woman down. He went on a bloody rampage because he thought it would save her. With all of this, we know he is a loving father. But without Grace, he doesn't seem to know how to show that love.

Let's say that there is no Grace, only you, and that no sapphire is ever put around your neck.

That Thomas might be different than the one we saw parenting Charles and Ruby. I think he would want more than two children. I think he would be the sort of man who would say "one is enough," but really he wants four.

He would never raise his voice in his home without good reason. Tommy knows what its like to have a father that rules through fear and honey. He won't be kind only when he wants something. He won't make his children afraid of him.

Personally, I do see him as prime girl-dad material. Like he would have one son and three girls. Regardless of the birthing order, he calls the boy his "heir," but spoils the girls. They each have their own horse, a wardrobe of beautiful clothing, and freedom to do literally whatever they want. He has opened his briefcase to find dollies and teacups from your youngest girl's tea set before. She thought he would be lonely at work.

His girls would be the sort to follow around staff and ask them intrusive questions. Tommy would not be immune. His daughters would probably ask him questions like: "Do you not grow hair on the back of your hand daddy? Is that why it's only on top?" At least one of his daughters would have a "I'm totally a witch," phase where she's flinging curses just like he used to. Only with her, it's cute because she's only nine.

The only son of Thomas Shelby would be safely tucked under his wing. At your imploring, he would take your boy on long car rides or out into town without his sisters to bond. The boy has a lot of pressure on him to succeed, Tommy doesn't always sympathize with that.

All four of his children would be little hellions. He would be dragged to see their school's headmaster on a near weekly basis. To the point where he isn't always sure which of his kids is in trouble sometimes. He just drops a donation to the school and the problem goes away. That's not to say your children are bratty or terribly spoiled. Well, they are, but not unbearably so...

Tommy makes sure his children understand where he came from. He brings them all to the Cut to watch the ships come through. Loves to leave them at Charlie's yard for an afternoon of mischief and bonding time with "Grandpa Charlie." They also get dropped off at Aunt Polly's home for weekends every now and again. The girls always come back with a new swear word.

They are new money, not old money. There are those who will look down upon them based on this alone. He makes sure his children are educated and well-rounded individuals. Tommy often worries about the state of the Shelby Empire after he dies. You remind him that he "isn't allowed to die," before you say so.

Tommy is still more distant than you would like him to be. He's so focused on his goals, it's like he forgets all about Arrow House and the family that lives there. The oldest two girls have said as much to his face once before. He took the family on holiday after that. You knew he would go right back to long nights in the office, but it was still sweet.

Life with him is hardly perfect, but it's closer to it than you could have with anybody else. And that's enough.

[call-sign-shark]

Day 3: Engraved in the Flesh || Finn Shelby x Reader

Requested by a lovely anon 🖤

TW: Kinktober prompt- marked, canonical violence, violent sexual practice, spanking, marking kink, non-protected sex, allusion to anal

Words: 630.

Notes: This work is a part of the Peaky Kinktober Event you can find here. Comment on the event post if you want to be tagged in the future works for Kinktober. The length of each prompt is random, but it’s never less than 600 words.

The family never suspected something to be wrong with the youngest of the tribe. After all, he had been lucky enough not to know the ugly truth of war nor the physical and emotional torment of hunger or poverty. If anything, Finn had grown up under Polly’s loving wing. Even if he was accustomed with gangs violence, he never truly took part of it before his brothers deemed him old enough. Arthur, Tommy and John worked hard so that he would never had to take a bullet like they did. They wanted him to be a general, not a disposable and vulnerable soldier. When he started to hang out with the pastor’s daughter, his Aunt was delighted. All of Birmingham knew how kind and quiet Y/N was. Holy Saint among the sinners, the young woman often wandered in the gritty streets of Small Heath with a basket filled with food she usually distributed to the poorest souls. Y/N left a bright sunshine in her wake, all the darkness of the place caught in her long coal black hair. Rumors said that when she smiled, even the most wicked men couldn’t lay a finger on her, all blissed out by her beauty and her divine aura of peacefulness. The bruises on her delicate skin? She was just incredibly clumsy. That was what her father always told her! And when she wasn’t bumping or tripping, the heavy basket she carried marked the flesh of her forearms.

But when the night came and the devils danced under the pale moonlight, she disappeared through her window and ran away from home, swallowed by the dull forest nearby. Y/N hid in an old vargo that belonged to the Shelby family, guided by the weak string lights hanging at the door, and she impatiently waited for Finn Shelby to appear in the doorway with a bottle of whisky in one hand, and a red rose in the other. Then their sordid and obscene ritual started, always following the same order: He slipped the flower in her hair, its crimson and velvety petals enhancing her beauty and suiting the color of the lipstick she had stolen from her mother. Then, they made the temperature rise, hands roaming on flesh clothes flying across the vardo. Only when the bottle of whisky was empty and their arousal reaching its limits, he assaulted her tight cunt with violent and rapid thrusts. A glistening and fragile pussy that only knew his cock. No one else’s. The way her warmth and wetness wrapped him sent his soul to heaven, making his lashes flutter. He was supposed to be a nice boy. She was supposed to be a holy and virginal girl.

So why? Why were they fucking like animals each night in the woods, filling the air with moans, flesh snapping sound and sweat? Why did he bend her over and spank her with his suit’s belt — and why did she enjoy it, her love juice trailing down her thighs more and more at each new beating? Finn grunted in her mouth when he came, painting her walls white and keeping her full til the morning. That was how Y/N liked him: engraved in her flesh, and dripping from her sore holes.

“Tsss, be more careful Y/N. You’re black and blue.” Her father scolded her, eyes rolling with annoyance at his daughter’s carelessness that revealed itself through her purplish bruises on her legs, thighs and neck. Little he knew that all her skin had been painted blue, immaculate flesh turned into a masterpiece by the brush of a mad artist. Y/N was both the canva and the muse, letting Finn Shelby turned her into what their love had always been: nothing gentle but the embodiment of Sin.

If you have appreciated what you've just read please take the time to reblog and/or comment. Your reactions are the real fuel and motivation of writers.

Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 @izzy10369 @peakyltd @dreamy-caramel @kimvolturicullen

[look-at-the-soul]

Because of you

Modern Tommy Shelby x reader

🎉 @runnning-outof-time I write this little fluffy piece for your celebration! Hope you like this! Congratulations on 4K followers, and also thank you for your kindness, your constant content -which I’m trying to catch up on-, and your little sweet and cheerful messages K! 💖 I’m particularly grateful for your presence in this fandom (the very first blog I remember following and following me back!)

Last but not least, thank you @justrainandcoffee for the absolutely beautiful moodboard!!!!!!! ♥️✨ It’s everything I imagined and even more ✨

A/N: Keep reading until the end, you’ll find a recipe in case this story makes you go hungry 🤭 because in this blog we share photos and recipes, whatever you want 😉 I couldn’t help it but add the grandma element in this one (Grandma’s series) and a little baby fever 👀 @forbidden-forest-witch

Word count: 2,308

“Alright Polly, I’ll deal with the contracts tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks, Ada should be sending you the papers.”

“Enjoy the rest of your holiday already, bye.” He added but didn’t hang up. He heard her laughing at the other end of the line. “For good, have some fucking rest.”

She was just like him, refused to take days off, now she was finally about to embark into a cruise around the Mediterranean.

“Are you home yet?” She asked.

“Yeah, just want to take a bath and go to sleep.” But that was so unlikely since both his children were home for the weekend.

“Give Y/N and the kids a kiss from me.” Polly requested and finally hung up.

Getting a phone call from an known number, Tommy decided he was done for the day, so pressing the red button, he walked into his apartment and immediately the voices coming from the kitchen caught his attention.

Genuine, loud laughs filled the hall and he recognized the unmistakable song in the background.

“I want the pink M&M’s!” Shouted Ruby.

“Why do you like everything that’s pink?” Charlie questioned as Tommy left his keys and wallet by the table.

“Because…” his daughter’s voice mumbled something he didn’t understand. “Y/N can you spin me around again, pleeeease?”

Tommy was about to interrupt the scene going on the kitchen, but he stopped midway as Y/N turned around and leaned forward, Ruby wrapped her arms and legs from behind while Y/N held her feet and slowly twirled around. Making his daughter giggle uncontrollably, her hair flowing.

“Okay now go back to your chair because you’re making the baby twirl inside too.” Y/N joked.

“I don’t know how you do it, when I was pregnant all I could was throw up. You need to take it easy.” Her mother asked in a worried tone.

“Mom I’m fine, besides the baby really wants a slice.” Then, looking at Charlie, she gasped. “Oh Charlie we don’t lick the spatula,” she told him in a calm tone, but it was too late he was done decorating his slice and now half his face was covered in chocolate, “well, what’s a few germs between friends huh?”

As the kids started giggling, she noticed Tommy standing by the door.

She was wearing a black tight dress that looked like a second skin on her, wrapping every curve perfectly and also showing his favorite new feature; the baby bump fully on display. Her hair free, wild long waves covered her back. A few bracelets hanging from her wrist, the Cartier watch he gave her for their first anniversary and her signature smile that took his breath away.

“I didn’t hear you,” wiping her hands with a cloth, she approached her husband. “Missed you.”

His hands wrapped around her back immediately as their lips connected. She tasted like cheesecake and strawberries.

“I missed you too.” He whispered and crunching down, he planted a kiss on her swollen belly. “How’s my little one, eh?”

“Starving and wriggling around.” Y/N answered as Tommy went for another kiss, this time on her lips.

“Eww, dad.” Charlie complained. Embarrassed by their affection.

Ignoring his son’s complain, he went to kiss Ruby on the cheek and then kissed Charlie as well, ruffling his blonde hair in the process.

“Hello Lisa, how are you doing?”

“Trying to make Y/N sit, but she won’t listen to me.” His mother in law welcomed him with a hug.

“Yeah, I deal with that on a daily basis.” He winked at her playfully.

“Hello? I’m standing right here!” Y/N waved at them.

“Oh!” Tommy made an innocent face. “Right, well I didn’t say anything.”

Ruby laughed. “Look Dad! Y/N had some crampings and we made a cheesecake!”

“I think she means cravings right?” He asked Y/N in a low voice, making his wife smile. “We? Are you sure you baked that?”

“Weeeeell Y/N and grandma baked it, but we decorated it!” She defended.

“And we made all slices with different topings.” Added Charlie.

Tommy’s heart melted as he heard his daughter call Y/N’s mother grandma, she and Polly were the closest his kids had.

He had lost his mother a long time ago, but once Y/N stepped into his life everything changed. Lonely nights were filled with love, long and deep talks. Actually, thanks to her, Tommy started to spend quality time with his children; Charlie and Ruby, driving them or picking them up from school, arranging plans on the weekends, even taking them both on holidays.

And Lisa welcomed not only him into her family lovingly, but both his kids as if they were her biological grandchildren.

“So which one is for me?” He asked after clearing his throat, he tried to hide his emotions, but Y/N could read him like an open book and a moment later he felt her hand on his back and her head on his shoulder. “These all look great.”

He spied on the slices with several options.

“Y/N said chocolate marble is your favorite.” Ruby gave him a serious stare.

“That’s about right.” He nodded profusely in her direction, then looking at his mother in law, he asked her; “I hope they didn’t give you loads of work.”

“None of that, they’re amazing kids.” Lisa beamed.

A groan came from the fridge, Tommy went immediately after Y/N worried.

“What is it?”

“We were going to put the pizza in the oven, but I can’t stand the smell.” She made a face.

Tommy decided to check the food, it had been in the freezer but it might be bad.

“This doesn’t smell, Y/N.”

“I just don’t want pizza anymore.” She pouted.

And in that very same moment, Tommy understood this was one of those mood swings caused by the pregnancy. A careful smile spread on his lips as his hands caressed her bump gently.

“Okay, so what do you want for dinner instead?”

By the corner of his eye, he saw his mother in law trying to suppress a giggle, luckily the children were busy with the cheesecake.

“We want tacos.” Y/N batted her eyelashes as she ran one of her hands over her stomach.

“Alright everybody,” he clapped his hands and looked at Charlie and Ruby, “go wash your hands then you’re going to help me prepare some tacos.”

“Yay!”

“Delish.” Ruby shouted and went into the bathroom.

“You’re staying with us right?” He asked Y/N’s mother.

She nodded and felt grateful when Tommy convinced her daughter to go and relax into the living room while they worked on the food.

“Last week she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted fried mozzarella sticks with mayonnaise.”

Y/N’s mother laughed as the kids joined them again.

“This is insane, I don’t know how you keep up with all of that.”

“I was worried about her health and the baby of course, but the doctor mentioned everything is perfect, baby is healthy… perhaps it’s the fact that she’s still doing exercise.”

“When I was pregnant I was sick all the time. She didn’t like anything of food I got.”

Tommy seemed to think about it as he started seasoning the beef.

“Actually Y/N felt like that for a few days after we found out, but then she started to eat pretty much everything, everywhere.” He chuckled. “Thankfully it’s been an easy pregnancy so far.”

He had actually been able to live this pregnancy to the fullest, joining Y/N for the doctor’s appointments, cravings, hormonal days, everything, something he didn’t have the chance to do with Charlie and Ruby.

He was enjoying every little change in Y/N’s body, the first time he felt a little kick, he cried actually, touched by the thought of his baby growing inside the woman he loved. They actually wanted to keep the gender a surprise until the baby arrives, it had been a challenge at times, but it was fun.

“Dad where’s the onion?” Ruby showed him the open fridge.

“Oh no, no… can we not add onions please?” Y/N joined them with a wrinkled nose.

“Two days ago you ate a full portion of fried onions, love.”

“This baby,” she pointed at her belly, “wanted onions, not me.”

“Isn’t it the same?” Charlie asked confused.

But Tommy knew better. “No onions then, I’ll start the grill with something else.” He added wanting to please her in every little detail.

As the kids helped Y/N’s mother to wash the avocados, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket.

Y/N stared at his back, wide with broad, toned shoulders covered by a perfectly fitted shirt. She loved to see him wearing daily a three piece suit in a world full of oversized t-shirts and pants.

But when he started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up, she lost it completely.

The sight of him was mouthwatering.

And as Tommy turned around, he caught her staring at her, the fire in her eyes could turn him on in a second.

“Behave, Y/N.” He whispered, disguising his words with a kiss on her hair. “Perhaps we’ll need a babysitter over the weekend?”

He chuckled at the way she nodded eagerly.

“My, my… what would your brothers say if they saw you wearing an apron and cooking?” Y/N’s mother joked, making everyone laugh by her sincerity.

“This is a secret we’ll have to keep, alright.” Tommy winked before checking the steak, he then asked Ruby to -carefully- and under his supervision to add cheese to the tortillas. “Chef Shelby only cooks for very very special people.” He added throwing a kiss to the air.

As Charlie brought the plates over the counter, he started slicing the meat and the explosion of flavors in the kitchen started to smell incredibly good.

Y/N’s mother was in charge of the different sauces, it was a usual now in their fridge as Y/N craved tortilla chips with sauce most of the time.

“Wow… this is Instagram worth it.” Y/N admitted taking a looking over Charlie’s shoulder. As the kid grinned at her, he made sure to serve a tortilla in each plate, to then hand it to his father so he could add the carne asada.

“What a beautiful family.” Y/N’s mother admitted, touched by the way Ruby was caressing Y/N’s stomach, Charlie helping with her food and Tommy looking after all of them.

Leaving the spoon, Tommy wrapped an arm around his loved ones while extending his free hand towards his mother in law.

“What are you doing there? You’re part of this too.”

After they were all released from the tightest hug, it was time to finally enjoy some tacos.

“Now shoo,” Tommy ushered Y/N out of the kitchen to arrange the food.

Gathering a tray, he placed the bowl with the guacamole and around all the tacos he just prepared. Leaving a small space for the sauces.

“Oh my God! This is so good!” Y/N admitted loudly after her first taco bite.

“Dad why does Y/N can eat before all of us?” Ruby asked innocently, confused because she was always told to wait until everyone were ready.

Tommy chuckled while Y/N apologized for not waiting the rest of the family.

“We don’t want to upset the baby, Rube. Right mama?”

Y/N nodded, her mouth was watering at the sight of the rest of the food. “That taco was for the baby, the next one is for me.”

After the kids took their place, Y/N’s mother offered a hand to each kid, seated each by her side. “Now what are we grateful for?”

“For this moment.” Tommy took the lead, feeling ever so grateful to have his loved ones in that room.

“For the cheesecake we’ll eat after dinner.” Charlie grinned.

“For this baby, and for each one of you.” Y/N’s words were followed by a smile.

“For my grand son or daughter!” Her mother joined the joy.

“For my little sister or brother.” Ruby added lastly.

“Now…” Tommy interrupted their hands mind-air as they were all after the delicious food on the table. “There’s something else I’m thankful for, tomorrow morning, we’ve to get up early because,” he was then interrupting by a chorus of groans and a pout from Y/N, “nevertheless… we’re going to visit a couple of houses to move in as soon as possible.”

“What?” Y/N was in shock.

“Love, this baby is coming very soon, we’ll need a bigger place than this apartment, I was thinking of a room for each,” he looked over at both children, “a nursery for the baby and of course a guest bedroom so you don’t have to share Ruby’s bed anymore.” He added looking at his mother in law.

“Oh Tommy!” Y/N’s eyes swelled with gratitude.

“I’ve narrowed the search to five properties so you’ll get to make the final decision.” He explained then.

“A house! Tommy a house!” Y/N couldn’t believe what she just heard.

“With a garden.” He encouraged.

“Can we have a pool?” Charlie asked.

“I want a doll house!”

“Whatever you want.” Tommy added, winking in Y/N’s direction. “Can we eat now?”

As the kids stormed to get their tacos, Y/N took his hand. A growing smile on her lips.

“You never said anything.” Her eyes sparkled.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“I’m so happy because of you.” Her sincerity wasn’t just in her words, but in her eyes as well.

And deep down, Tommy couldn’t believe that thanks to her, he was able to find stability, loyalty, freedom, love, a family, someone who helped him every day to be a better person.

****

I hope you enjoyed this little story! 🥰 remember, your feedback (in all ways) is always welcome and highly appreciated! ✨ xx

Tacos recipe

Master list

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[mythos-writes]

Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So basically tommy is a Single dad to a two year old daughter 2 year old daughter

So basically tommy is at a family meeting and you was clingy all day so Tommy past you to Arthur to hold you while you slept and when u woke up you start to cry Tommy pick you up and Rock you back to sleep and all the family make fun of him for being soft

Hope that make sense

Tommy Shelby x Daughter Reader

Word Count: 765

Warning: swearing, fussy toddler

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy still remembers the day his daughter (Y/N) came into his life. She showed up on the doorstep of Watery Lane with nothing but herself bundled up in a bassinet and a letter. A girl Tommy had a fling with ended up pregnant and didn't want to give it up. So she left it on his doorstep, leaving him with their outcome.

If Tommy had opened the door, she might have ended up at the orphanage, but lucky for her, Polly found her first. Tommy was out doing business in London and Polly was looking after Finn. As it was late at night, Polly was the only one up to hear the knocks on the door. She was greeted by the small bassinet and a sleeping baby inside, covered by a small knitted blanket. She looked up and down the Lane, but no one was in sight. Polly took her in that night. Giving the baby a bath and changing her into some of Finn's baby clothes. When she went to reach for the blanket that the baby came with, a note fell out of the wool blanket. Polly read the note and was shocked, but not surprised, at the content of the note.

When the boys arrived back, they were relatively surprised at this new addition to the family. She walked up to Tommy and handed him the letter. His eyes quickly skimmed over the words telling him the weight he was simply handed. He looked at the little girl in his aunt’s hands. He first wanted her gone, not wanting to bring an innocent child into this life. It was his way of controlling something that he couldn’t control.

Two years later, things had changed. The business and the family have grown and changed, and the young Shelby's children are growing up. Finn is 10, while young (Y/N) is 2. She had become the light in Tommy’s life. When he comes home from a long day at work or a meeting with other gangs, her hugs release his stress or anger. She is also a good distraction when it comes to family meetings. 

Tommy had called a family meeting to discuss some upcoming expansions and see where the family was standing with their parts of the business. The two of them had a rough night before, (Y/N) running a fever and unable to sleep. Which meant Tommy not sleeping. Their morning consisted of little food, minus the bottle she still would take in the morning, and many micro naps between the two Shelby’s. But with the little energy that they both had, they both showed up to the meeting at Waterly Lane. 

“Tommy. Why did you bring (Y/N/N) here? Usually, you leave her with Finn?” Arthur confronts. He is never opposed to seeing his niece, but when it came to these meetings, there was no place for a small innocent lady like his niece. Tommy quickly shushes his brother. 

“Arthur, you wake her up you’ll be floating down the crick,” Tommy threatens in a whisper. He passes his sleeping toddler to her uncle, giving him a small break, knowing how she’ll be when she wakes up from this nap.

“We had a rough night,” is all Tommy said before he quickly moved on to the family meeting that was at hand. But because they’re the Shelby’s, the meeting doesn’t stay quiet for long. 

Tommy yells. In the quietness of the room, it broke by the wines and whimpers of the once-sleeping toddler. Tommy turned to Arthur, seeing his daughter beginning to wake up. 

“Daddy,” she cries. Tommy quickly took her out of Arthur’s hands and pulled her in close. 

“It is ok sweety, daddy is here,” he whispers, trying to calm down his daughter. With his soft rocking, (Y/N) quickly fell back asleep. 

“When did Thomas Shelby become soft,” John joked, nudging Arthur. They giggled to themselves before seeing the look that Tommy was sending them. It was Polly and Ada’s turn to laugh. 

“Just because he is showing his soft side right now, doesn’t mean he won’t put you in your grave himself,” Polly defends her nephew. “John you should take some notes,” she jabs at her other nephew.  John rolls his eyes before lighting a cigar. 

Tommy looked down at his sleeping daughter and felt his ice heart melt a little more. The sounds of the tunnels are mere whispers in his head. Tommy knew he wasn’t a good man, but to (Y/N), he was her everything. 

[peakyswritings]

My Father’s Daughter

Time to Say Goodbye

Arthur Shelby x Daughter!OC

Summary: sometimes the hardest decision is the better one.

Warnings: mentions of death, alcohol and drug addiction, rocky father-daughter relationship, tiny reference to sex, angst, season 6 spoilers, English is not my first language.

A/N: guess we’re starting from the ending! Each chapter will be a standalone. They will be linked, but they can be read separately. This is set in season 6.

Edit: putting this here cause I think I haven’t been as clear as I wanted to, since it created a bit of confusion🙈 This is the end of Rosalind’s story - or at least, of her story within the family. I wanted to try something different than what I usually do and start from the ending. In the next chapters I’m going back to 1919 and from them on I’ll explore how things turned out the way they turned out.

MEET ROSALIND

SERIES MOODBOARD

In the dim light of a room she knew all to well by now, Rosalind looked for her undergarments among the mess of clothes lying on the floor. The sun was about to set, and she needed to leave before it got too dark. These days, the streets of Birmingham weren’t safe even for a Shelby.

She slid into her slip, the cool material bringing some relief to her skin, still warm from the activities that had been going on up until a few minutes before. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she would’ve liked to stay a while. He would’ve liked it too. But it would just mean to pointlessly carry over something that was bound to happen all the same. She had never been one for cuddling, anyway. Running a hand through her ruffled red locks, she glanced at her… whatever Isiah Jesus was to her.

He was still lying in bed, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. He kept his gaze on her, watching her every movement. “So you’re leaving.”

“Yes.”

“Does your father know?”

“Not yet.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she zipped up her dress. She had to tell him, she knew she did. As tempting as the prospect of just leaving without telling anyone else was. “I’ll tell him tonight.”

“Y’know where he is?” he inquired. Isiah was no stranger to Arthur Shelby’s habits, and the course they had taken of late. One could never tell whether he’d go back home or spend his night in the Chinese shop whose business was thanks to the generous amount of money he spent in it.

“Drunk, somewhere,” she shrugged. “Maybe high. Maybe both.”

She wasn’t worried. She knew her father would show up, eventually. He always did. He needed someone to take care of him when he was too wasted to even stand. She couldn’t be that someone anymore. And it wasn’t like he deserved it. She loved him, of course she did, despite everything. But love was not enough.

“I can’t convince you to stay, can I?”

Isiah’s question hung in the air for a while, then, just like it came, it faded away. He knew the answer, she didn’t need to say it. It was more like himself talking to himself. There was a glimpse in his dark eyes, one of sadness, perhaps. Sadness, and something else Rosalind refused to see. That look could’ve almost compelled her to stay, had things been different.

“What will I do without you, eh?” He let out a chuckle, a poor attempt to lighten the atmosphere. “You’ve been pestering me since you came around.”

“Well it’s time you got yourself a woman. Start a family,” she teased him, sitting on the bed to put on her shoes.

He laughed, shaking his head. The only woman I’d start a family with doesn’t want to hear any of that, he thought to himself. But he didn’t say it. Cause he couldn’t.

Rosalind would’ve missed him too, there was no point in lying to herself. But there was no point in dwelling over what could’ve been either. It was time for her to turn page, to leave that life behind. Was she running away? Yes, she had no intention of hiding it from herself. Maybe if she ran fast enough she could escape the old curse. Polly had said it once. It’s in us. In our blood. We need to move, or it catches up with us.

Maybe it would catch up with her anyway.

Her gaze rested on Isiah one last time. She wondered if she’d forget about his face, overtime. If it would deform and fade until it became an indistinct blur and she could no longer picture it in her mind, like it had happened with her mother. She leaned in to press a kiss on his lips. It was chaste, tender, so different from the ones they had shared until then. She wanted to imprint the feeling of his soft lips against hers. That was the one thing she didn’t want to forget.

“Goodbye, Isiah.”

The sound of Rosalind’s heels on the cobblestones resounded in the empty street, breaking the uncanny stillness. Wrapping herself tighter in her expensive coat, she watched are her breath came out in little white clouds in the chilly air, illuminated by the street lamps. Small Heath was so different from the way it used to be years ago. There used to be workers in every corner, striking iron, shovelling coal, lighting fires. Now it was dead silent.

The gun she always carried with her granted her a faint feeling of safety. There had been a time when she was untouchable. When she would walk down the street knowing no one would dare look at her twice, let alone hurt her. Then Aunt Polly was killed, and all of her certainties came tumbling down. If Elizabeth Gray could be taken out, there was no hope for any of them.

When she walked through the front door of her house, she was hit by the reek of booze and smoke. Her father was there. He was sitting at the head of the table, with rumpled clothes, disheveled hair, and an empty look in his eyes. He didn’t say a word. She wondered if he had noticed her stuff was missing, or if he was too stoned to pay attention to anything. She took a seat in front of him, trying to figure out whether he was lucid enough to have that conversation. Or any conversation.

“I’m leaving.”

A heavy silence hung in the air. He didn’t look surprised. In fact, there was almost no emotion on his face. He looked like a dead man forced to stand by some invisible string, like a puppet in a theatre. It wasn’t the first time she got the impression that all the shit he took - the booze, the cocaine, the opium - had drained all the life out of him, leaving just the shell of the man he once was.

For the first time since she had entered the house, he raised his gaze on her. The gaze she met every time she looked in the mirror. That was the one thing she could never escape from.

“Leaving where?”

“America. New York.”

“To do what?”

“I’ll figure it out,” her voice faltered. All the firmness she had armed herself with was threatening to slip away. Her father’s stare was hard, unflinching. She didn’t let it intimidate her. “In truth, I asked uncle Tommy if he needed help with anything, in New York. He said I should talk to you first.”

As if her father was in the conditions of having that conversation.

A silent question arose in his face, but he didn’t say anything. She didn’t give him the chance to. “Then I changed my mind. Whatever I’ll do, I’ll do it on my own.”

Her father nodded to himself, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. “So ye’re walking out on us. On your old man. On your family.”

That attempt to instil a sense of guilt sent a wave of burning rage through Rosalind’s spine. She didn’t give in to it, though. She didn’t raise her voice. She didn’t snap. She limited herself to raise her eyebrows and and let out a scoff. “What family?” she asked dryly.

Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair, lowering his gaze, his own facade crumbling.

She could’ve stopped there. She could’ve spared him the pain. But she didn’t. “Aunt Polly’s dead. Uncle John’s dead. Esme and her kids have vanished into thin air. Michael’s in America, and he hasn’t been a part of this family since he’s been sent away. Uncle Tommy’s not himself anymore. Aunt Ada’s raising two fatherless children. God knows what Finn’s up to. And you…” she paused, grimacing. “You’re a mess.”

A pained expression crossed her father’s face. Her words were more venomous than poison. She knew she was hurting him. Part of her felt bad for that, but the other part wanted to make him feel a tiny part of the pain that had been inflicted upon her since the day she was born. That was the one thing she’d always carry with her.

“Linda left you because you fucked up. I didn’t like her, you know it. But she took care of you, and you fucked up. She left, and even that didn’t change you.”

She didn’t blame Linda for leaving. She had a long list of things to resent her for, but leaving with Billy was not one of them. She couldn’t take care of him anymore. And now Rosalind knew how Linda felt. Everyday she was waiting for the news that her father had been found dead in an alley, with a syringe in his arm. Or killed in one of the fights he engaged in, chasing the thrill of his long gone backstreet days. She had prepared herself to hear something like that a long time ago. She had come to terms with the fact that he was beyond saving.

Her father loosened the collar of his shirt as if he was choking on the truth his daughter was dumping on him. A glimpse of guilt shone in his eyes, and yet, no apology left his lips. “Walking out on yer old man,” he repeated in muffled words.

“You walked out on me first.”

None of them said another word. Not Arthur, who was still digesting what his daughter had said to him, nor Rosalind, who hadn’t meant for their confrontation to take that turn. But too many things had been left unspoken for too long. And Arthur Shelby, despite his efforts to be better, had not managed to escape the curse that had been passed on to him by his father, and by his father before him. His inability to apologise was the proof.

With nothing left to say or do, Rosalind walked out that house she couldn’t call home, and closed the door behind her.

That was the last conversation she ever had with her father.

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