#Polly Gray fanfic

[zablife]

Drinks with Polly in the Parlor

Requested by @notyour-valentine for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

"Would you care for a glass of champagne, Aunt Polly?" you asked sweetly. You wanted to impress your husband's aunt with your hospitality, but you needed a glass of liquid courage yourself after being left alone with the imposing Shelby matriarch. The silence which had already grown between you was terrifying and made you feel like a failure.

She turned from the mirror where she was checking her crimson lipstick, one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched in your direction as she replied coldly, "Champagne is for celebrations, my dear. I'm afraid a toast seems woefully late considering your nuptials took place weeks ago. Wouldn't you agree?"

You could only blink in shock. It was true you and Tommy had eloped without a single family member present to witness your vows, but he assured you it was the done thing. This was his third marriage after all and you agreed a lavish affair would be inappropriate, especially given the fact that he divorced his second wife less than a year ago. Surely Polly understood all this? Then again, the withering glance she gave, proved otherwise.

"I'm sorry if we've offended you..." you began.

Polly waved off your apology before you could finish, crossing to the bar to pour her own drink. Like Tommy she preferred Irish whisky, neat and she sipped it slowly as she looked you up and down carefully. A small smile began to form on her lips as she noticed the abundance of diamonds caressing your delicate neck.

"It's not you or I who should be apologizing. My nephew can be a careless man," she hummed, smile quickly fading as she stared at her own reflection once more, seeing something which obviously displeased her. "I always thought he favored his mother, but he is so like his father at times the way he treats the women in this family."

"Excuse me?" you asked, twisting your fingers and wondering what could be keeping Tommy. You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the turn in conversation.

She chuckled darkly as she stopped in front of you, her hazel eyes dancing with a manic energy that made your stomach drop in anticipation of her next words. "I died for him once. Did you know that?"

You swallowed thickly and shook your head, fingers now clutching the cool metal at your throat as if it might make your husband appear more quickly to save you.

"It's alright, I escaped the noose," she assured you, lowering the volume of her voice to that relegated for the telling of secrets. "Climbed through it like a window to the other side. And I found you can do anything you want cause there are no rules, cause there are no risks. When you’re dead already, you’re free," she whispered as though she was imparting wisdom you might find useful one day.

"He did me a favor really," she mused. "Now I'm the one protecting this family because I'm the only one who can see it all clearly. My second sight keeps us safe, you know." However, you only heard the rantings of a madwoman and your body began to tremble involuntarily.

"Oh, darling. You're shaking," she noted, reaching a hand out to steady you. Her fingers grasped your forearm, nails digging in like talons, and anchoring you to the spot. With saccharine sweetness she cooed, "That's a beautiful necklace," drawing out the vowels in beautiful until it sounded like a taunt. "What does a woman like you have to do to earn a bauble like that?"

"T-tommy chose it on our honeymoon because he loves me," you stuttered, eyes searching hers for a sign she would release you from this trap you'd unwittingly fallen into.

"Diamonds," she said reverentially. "Goodness, you are special then, aren't you?" she couldn't help but add sarcastically.

"I should hope so," you answered in a defiant tone you could no longer hold back given her blatant disrespect.

Her hand slipped from you and you took two steps backward as she smirked. "You know it was sapphires for Grace. They represent wealth and abundance so that suited her I suppose. Rubies for Lizzie, all vitality and passion. But here you stand wearing diamonds," she pronounced.

Feeling the clasp of the necklace dig into your skin in the same painful way Polly's nails had clawed against your arm, your irritation grew. "And what does that mean?" you demanded. Your unease caused the gems to weigh down upon you like bricks. You tried to inhale deeply, but found it difficult to draw breath.

"Some say eternity," she answered in amusement before turning her concentration to your neck. A cackle erupted from her lips as though the idea of your union was a complete joke. Your anger mounted along with the suffocating feeling, closing your throat so you couldn't scream or reply.

"Others say invincibility," she added. "But that's not what you two have. I can see it in the air around you. I know what you are," she proclaimed, eyes narrowing at you hatefully. She closed her fists tightly by her side, knuckles white from the force. And that's when you felt the crushing grip at your windpipe. You fell to your knees, hands flying to your throat, ripping at the necklace or whatever phantom force seemed to be cutting off your air supply. As you rocked back and forth spluttering and choking, Polly stood over you triumphantly.

-----------

When Tommy came looking for you in the parlor, Polly sat sipping her whisky calmly on the sofa. His eyes immediately darted to your tear stained face as he heard your hiccuped sobs coming fast between uneven breaths. "Y/n?" he called to you in panic, crossing the room in quick strides before Polly held up a hand for him to stop.

"She has something to say, Tommy," she announced, looking to you expectantly.

Tommy furrowed his brow in confusion as his foot came to rest over something small and hard. Stooping to retrieve the object, the hurt became evident on his face as he surveyed the floor where your beautiful necklace lay in ruins, a constellation of diamonds cast over the carpet.

As the jewel winked up at him, he looked from his palm and back to you as you stood, wobbling slightly from lightheadedness. "I've made a terrible mistake," you sobbed, brushing past him and running from the room with the urgency of someone fleeing their own execution.

Before he could turn to follow, Polly's eyes flicked up to Tommy's, holding him motionless within her hypnotic gaze as she promised answers. "Perhaps now she'll tell you what she really wanted here because it was never you, my boy."

------------

Tag List:

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

#zablife 2K celebration #Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Polly Gray fanfic #Polly Gray imagine #Polly Gray #Polly Gray x reader #Polly Gray x you

[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.

#marsie writes #mars 1.5k celebration #polly shelby #polly shelby x reader #polly shelby x daughter #shelby reader #shelby insert #polly grey x adoptive daughter #polly gray #polly gray x reader #polly gray x daughter #polly gray fanfic #polly gray fic #polly gray imagine #polly gray one shot

[rysko]

Peaky Blinders Request Rules/Information

Hiya! I'm opening requests because i feel like it's a cool opportunity to write between my main stories, as well as interact with the fandom more!(Yall are the coolest i swear) Feel free to send an ask with your request if the following rules are okay by you <3

This is also my first time in years that i've done this so bear with me xD

Characters: When it comes to PB, i don't have any no/no's when it comes to writing characters. No matter how niche the character, my brain-rotten ass will analyse them to pieces and try my best to write them. Though, if you know me in any way, i'm especially brainrotten about: Luca Changretta, Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby and Arthur Shelby, so requests with them will probably be written faster!

Relationships: Character x readers are fine, and i'm comfortable writing for any gender. Character x Character is cool as well, if the ship has a dynamic, i'll try my best!

Dark fics: YES! I love them.

Smut: I'm not very good at smut imho, so for now, it'll be a no from me, sorry!

HC's/ '[blank] with [blank] would include' type fics: YES!!!

AU's?: I love au's, if you want me to write one, give me as much info as you want, or just give me an au idea and i'll try my best :>

I feel like i covered the most important things, if i missed anything, let me know and i'll answer/add to this post. If i won't be able to fulfill a request, i'll be sure to let you know.

See ya in the AskBox!

#Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky Blinders x y/n #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Arthur Shelby fanfic #Luca Changretta fanfic #John Shelby fanfic #Alfie Solomons fanfic #Michael Gray fanfic #Polly Gray fanfic #Ada Shelby fanfic #Lizzie Stark fanfic #fic requests

[notyour-valentine]

35 with Polly🦜?

Side note while making this I realized we have dodomojis now?

So happy dodo day?🦤

Actually happy dodo day rhymes with happy 1k babe.

...Kinda

Happy 1k babe🦤💕

Talent ~ Polly Gray & Reader (Fluff)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

(18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Words: 828 words

Mrs Thorne had invited you - by now she had cultivated quite the circle of friends, rebels, poets, artists, revolutionaries.

She served good drinks, expensive food, offered discretion and a free space, so you felt more than welcome. 

It was more curiosity than anything else that brought her to accept her invitation to this event at her brother’s stately manor. 

For someone who preached communism, this was an interesting development. 

Hardly anyone, apart from their circle of friends, knew her, but as always they drew eyes. Of course they did, they were loud and dazzling and different, and in a city like Birmingham they were nothing short of curiosities. 

She preferred to watch, a glass of cold champagne in her hand as some of her male friends decided to let loose with the Charleston. 

As she sipped her drink, she could hear approaching footsteps. 

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a woman, more mature than Mrs Thorne, but with the same shape of eyes, dark eyes, with dark curly hair. 

She was too young to be her mother, she thought, though not by much, although the similarities were uncanny. 

“Ada says you are the artist.”, she announced without false courtesies. 

“Hmm,”, she mused with a smirk, not bothering to respond to that. “A woman artist. She tells me you have a great talent with sketches and charcoal.”

That made her turn fully. 

“It is my vice of preference.”, she admitted, “much more personal for portraits than oil paintings where layers on layers are plastered on people playing pretend. I like to show people as they are, not how they want to be.”

“As they are?”, the woman asked. 

She nodded once more. 

“In their purest, simplest form.”

There was a brutality in raw honesty, but a beauty too, and the only true beauty art could capture. 

“Tell me you don’t prefer it to that.”, she demanded, nodding to the monstrosity that hung on the wall, one of many crimes against her eyes the owner of this house had committed. 

Her red painted lips curled into a smile. 

“That is my nephew.”, she explained, outing her identity. 

Elizabeth Gray, she remembered from Mrs Thorne’s stories. Aunt Polly. 

“Yes, I know.”, she admitted as she took another sip. “Quite the man, apparently. They say he has a talent winning over his business partners but not nearly as much as his business partner’s wives.”

Polly Gray snorted in dry amusement, before tilting your head. “You are not wrong.”

Then her gaze softened. 

“As they are, hm?”, she asked. “According to my niece, you are a woman of incredible talent and ability.”

“So are you.”, she replied without hesitation. 

Her eyes widened. “Oh I am not an artist.”, she argued quickly, shaking her head. 

She only shrugged. “I can count the amount of women able and capable to make decisions in a large company like yours in this country on one hand - while holding a champagne flute. Take this in the most flattering way possible, because that it is the way it is meant. You don’t seem to be the kind of woman who is in her position to simply be decorative.”

Her brow shot up. “Am I not decorative?”, she wanted to know, a sharpness in her tone that made her laugh. 

“A woman like you wouldn’t be content with being decorative.”

With that, the rage and insult Mrs Gray had felt subsided, replaced by a warm, mutual understanding. 

She waved over a waiter to replace their glasses. 

“How quickly can you do a sketch?”, she asked curiously. 

It made her sigh deeply and she drank before responding. “Five minutes if you want it to be bad, two hours if you want it reasonable, as long as I need if you want it to be good.”

Mrs Gray was unable to stop her the smirk that came to her lips, a glimmer of admiration in her eyes. 

“Honest, I see, as honest as your paintings. Or you are charging by the hour.”

Before she could respond, they heard something shattering, making both their heads turn. 

“Sorry - so sorry, everyone, sorry Tom!”, a man with a thick bushy moustache said, standing in a puddle of champagne, laced with broken glass. 

He seemed dully familiar until she remembered the family picture in the other room. Another Shelby. 

“Sorry love,”, he told a woman standing close to him, who had been caught in the crossfire of splashing liquid. 

“‘Ere, let me help!”

With that, he tugged his sleeve over his hand and tried to wipe down her dress. 

“Oh fuck me!”, Mrs Gray cursed as she saw it. “A nephew?”, she wanted to know. 

Her sigh told her all she needed to know. 

“He doesn’t have Thomas’ talent for…diplomacy.”, Polly Gray said as she watched him in his clumsy attempts at drying the woman off. “Maybe no talent, yet a character it seems.”, she argued with a soft smile that made her snort in amusement. 

End.

Thank you so much for requesting and participating in my celebration - I hope you liked what I wrote.

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @cillmequick @raincoffeeandfandoms

#valentines1k #ask me to dance #polly gray #polly gray imagine #polly gray fanfic #polly gray x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

[hb-writes]

Polly Gray & Clara Shelby

✵ The Walk-In Appointment: May 1909. Clara learns to walk a bit later than her twin, but once she does there’s no stopping her from following her big brother around wherever he goes. 

✵ The Horsewoman: 1913. Clara and Finn are ready to start school, but Clara is a bit hesitant. Thankfully, her older brother Tommy knows how to negotiate.

✵ For Old and Young Alike: Set in 1913 and 1922. All Clara Shelby wants for Christmas is a little quality time with her favorite people. 

✵ The Road that Leads to Trouble: 1914. The Shelby dinner table is rarely a thing one would call quiet or calm, and it’s no different on the night the family learns their youngest has been kissing boys out on the lane.

✵ Wishes in the Tea Leaves: 1914. After Clara’s brothers leave for France, she is seeking answers to questions she’d rather keep to herself so she asks Aunt Polly to read her tea leaves. 

✵ Easier to Bear: 1916. It was an accident, Clara and Finn didn’t mean to knock over Aunt Polly’s picture. They didn’t mean to shatter the picture frame on the hardwood, but accidents happen. And they happen at inopportune times. Left to sort her feelings on her own, Clara decides she’s disappointed her aunt too much and it’s almost too much for the little girl to bear.

✵ The Shelby Inheritance: 1918. When Clara and Finn are being teased at school, Tommy helps them get things sorted.

✵ Little Lady Blinder Series: 1919. Clara Shelby is a kind girl, a smart girl, a well-behaved little sister in a town full of gangsters and ruffians. With the girl’s raising thus far being such a simple task, the Shelby family is left unprepared for all that accompanies a perfectly respectable little girl growing up and becoming a lady among Peaky Blinders.

✵ Something: 1922. Tommy has sensed a change in the way his youngest sister relates to the boys of Small Heath.

✵ A Little Reflection: 1923. When Aunt Polly summons Clara to church, she knows it’s rarely for good reason and never about religion.

✵ The Small Acts: 1924. When Clara rows with her brother late at night, she runs to Aunt Polly’s door.

✵ I don’t want to be alone: Christmas Eve 1924. For the past six months Clara has wished for nothing more than to have her family back home, to have them free from Winson Green and the threat of the noose, but as with most wishes, she now knows she should have been more specific with her request.

✵ LITTLE LADY BLINDER MASTERLIST ✵

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #polly gray fanfic #polly gray #aunt polly #aunt pol #shelby!sister #shelby sister #little lady blinder #clara shelby #polly & clara

[xxblackballoonxx]

The Heart Underneath: Chapter 23

***This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. I originally began it in 2016, and then life was life, and now I’m bringing it back because it deserves to be finished! Rating M as of Chapter 10 ***

Part 2 is here J&M lovers! Is that gif not the most John gif? Ugh I love him so much.

Chapter 22: J&M Letters 4 Chapter 24: J&M Letters 5

THU Masterlist

The Heart Underneath

Chapter 23: May/June 1916 (19 and 21)

John walked Martha to the parlor, carefully lowering her down onto the sofa and sitting next to her. She wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her head against his chest as he ran a hand through her hair and rubbed her back.

“You must be hungry, I’ll get you something.” Ada said quietly and then went into the kitchen.

“How are you here?” Martha whispered.

“I got your letter yesterday morning, explained the situation to my commanding officer. Asked him for the leave that I’m owed. Fortunately, he understood. I knew you needed me.” John responded.

Martha nodded and closed her eyes, exhaustion taking over. John leaned back as far as he could, propping his feet up on the low table, and pulled Martha into him. It was uncomfortable for him, but she seemed comfortable, and that’s all that mattered. 

“Go to sleep, love,” John whispered, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

An hour later, John woke with a start. He had fallen asleep himself, and looked down to find Martha stirring. He heard a baby laugh in the kitchen and smiled, knowing that Will was with either Ada or Polly. 

“I’m going to go see Will. You stay here and rest ok?” John said as he propped a pillow behind Martha’s head and kissed her cheek.

John walked into the kitchen to find both Ada and Polly there, Will sitting on Ada’s lap as she tried to feed him. 

“It is so good to see you. Come sit, eat something.” Poll said, giving John a hug.

“Thanks Aunt Poll, good to see you as well.” 

“Look who it is, Will! It’s Daddy!” Ada exclaimed, turning Will towards John.

John smiled at him and after a moment, Will smiled back and reached for John excitedly. He picked him up from Ada’s lap and then sat down, taking in how much Will had grown. He was just over a year old now, and his happy, chubby face with matching eyes pierced through John’s heart.

Will sat contentedly in John’s lap while he made his way through the large plate Polly had made for him. Ada and Polly filled him in on the latest regarding the odds business and other household items. None of the brothers had been back since February and there was a lot to catch up on.

“Ada, check on Martha, would you?” Polly asked.

She waited until Ada had closed the kitchen door and then turned back towards John. Will had fallen asleep, his little arms up around John’s neck, who held the boy close to him. Polly smiled at the scene.

“The baby’s a few weeks late, John, best I can tell. It happens and I’m sure the baby is fine. But we need to move things along. Maybe the shock of seeing you will help speed things up. Martha needs to be up every few hours, walking around, which we’ve been doing. There are other things, only a husband can do, that might help though.”

Polly looked at John pointedly, waiting until he realized what exactly she was talking about. His face went red and she laughed.

“You mean …” John finally sputtered out.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean. It can help, but at the very least maybe it will help her relax for a bit.” Polly responded.

John nodded, his face still red, and turned towards the door as it opened. Martha stood there, looking better, and she smiled at the sight of John and Will together. John truly thought she had never looked more beautiful.

************************************************************************

In the hours before supper, John sat in the tub near the kitchen stove, trying to rinse off months of the battlefields. Martha sat next to him and quietly took a bar of soap to his hair, running her fingers over his scalp. He sighed and leaned back into her hands.  

“That feels nice.” He said softly, reaching up to touch her arm.

“It feels nice doing it for you. I missed you so much.” Martha replied.

“I missed you too, Mar. You and the babies. Will’s gotten so big.” John said and Martha could pick up on the tinge of sadness in his voice. 

“He’s a good boy, getting into everything now that he’s more mobile. I swear he’s a little you.”

John laughed and leaned back further, letting himself relax into to Martha’s touch. Just the simple act of her washing his hair had every nerve in his body on fire. His body had been starved for her affection.

“No first words yet?” 

“No, nothing that makes sense anyway. A lot of babbling. Maybe he’ll say something while you’re home.” 

John put his hand on Martha’s and squeezed, tears threatening to spill over. He wanted to be there for one milestone with his son. Martha kissed the back of his neck and then ran a towel over his wet hair. He closed his eyes and let himself get lost in the moment, Martha caring for him in a way that only she could.

John stepped out of the tub a few minutes later, drying off with the same towel, and held Martha’s eye. She grinned at him and he winked back, letting her get a good look before putting clean clothes on.

“Glad to see that smile, love. I guess you still like what you see, yeah?” John murmured as bent down to kiss her.

“Still love it. Still love you.” Martha replied with a sigh as John ghosted his lips down her neck.

“Good. I love you, too. Now we’re supposed to be making sure you walk, right?” 

Martha groaned but let John pull her up into a standing position, putting an arm around her. 

Later that night, after locking up the house, John picked up a sleeping Will from the parlor, and slowly followed behind Martha up the stairs. When they finally made it to their room, Martha sat tiredly on the edge of the bed and watched as John tucked Will in. The scene made her immediately emotional and she tried to hold back tears as John kissed Will’s head and watched him for a moment before turning back to her.

“How can I help you?” John asked quietly, walking over to the bed.

“Shoes? Pretty much helpless at this point.” Martha replied, trying to laugh.

John sensed the emotional shift and knelt down carefully to remove her shoes. She unhooked her dress and he pulled it up over her head, and then laid it on the chair at her vanity. He turned back to find her silently crying, hair covering her face as her shoulders shook.

“What’s wrong, love?” John asked in concern, kneeling in front of her.

“I feel huge, and uncomfortable, and I feel like you think I’m ugly.” Martha sobbed.

“Sweetheart, no, I don’t think that at all. You’re pregnant and you know how that changes you. I’d love you and find you beautiful no matter what. You’re gorgeous to me, Mar. Always. And especially right now.” 

“Really?”

“Really, darlin’. I promise you. You’re carrying our baby, Mar, and I love seeing this part of it. I didn’t get to last time."

John looked up at her as Martha let him push back her hair and then take off her shift. He gently laid her back against the pillows and bent down to put his head against her stomach, kissing her taut skin. Martha put her hand on the back of his head as fresh tears came, this time from understanding how much John had missed and how much it bothered him.

“Little one, this is your Daddy. Please come out soon. Your Mummy is tired and we want to meet you. Your big brother is waiting for you.” John whispered making Martha smile.

Remember this. 

John undressed and then slid into the other side of the bed, scooting over so that he was facing Martha, arm around her.  

“I know you’re tired, love. Polly suggested something we could try … you know, to maybe move things along.” 

“What’s that?” Martha asked, genuinely confused. She thought she’d tried it all so far.

“This.” John whispered.

He dropped his head and slowly kissed her, running a hand down and stopping just before the spot between her legs. Martha gripped the back of his head and then pulled back.

“Seriously?” She asked, laughing. 

“Seriously. But only if you’re alright with it. I want to … with you like this, in this moment. To remember how you are right now. But it’s your decision.” 

John watched as his Martha’s eyes ran over his face, a hand stroking his side, her fingers burning into him. Finally she smiled and nodded, pulling him down again. Their lips met and John lost himself in her, the way she touched him, the way she smelled, the way her skin felt under his hands. 

He took his time, both for himself to remember how Martha was in this moment, and for her to relax as much as she was able to. She held his head as he trailed down her body, so slowly she wanted the moment to last forever. He touched every single part of her skin, moving himself towards the bottom of the bed, so that he could make his way back up her inner thighs. Carefully propping her legs up on his shoulders as he kissed the bottom of her bump and then down further.  His mouth meeting her center, licking slowly, as she moaned quietly.

Sensing Martha was ready for more, John moved back up the bed and helped her turn on her side, facing away from him. He swept her hair off her shoulder, kissing her neck as he moved her leg up. He buried a moan in her hair as he entered her, slow paced, and Martha called out his name. She reached back and held onto the back of his neck as he ran a hand over her breasts, gently caressing them, aware of how sensitive she probably was.

“I love you, Mar. No matter what.” John murmured in her ear.

“Love you too. You always know what I need.” Martha said back, breath shallow.

Knowing this would probably be the only time they would be together like this on his leave, John fought every urge to go faster. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he knew he could live in that moment forever if given the choice. Martha tightened her grip against his neck and he felt her spasm against him, closing her eyes as her body took over. He thrust into her one more time, as deeply as he could, and bit her neck as he came, the delayed pleasure taking his breath away.

“You are always gorgeous, love. I’ll always want you and you’ll always be my girl.” John whispered as he kissed her shoulder.

Martha nodded and held his arm tightly to her chest, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. John closed his eyes, giving into the safety of the house, their bed, holding Martha against him, her hair piled up on the pillow next to him.

************************************************************************

The following afternoon, Martha and John walked slowly through Small Heath, Will in John’s arms. It had taken him all morning to convince her to go for a walk, and John was pleased to see it did brighten her mood a bit. The two stopped by the Averill Grocer and Mrs. Averill flew out from behind the counter to give John a hug.

“It’s so wonderful to see you, John. And look at Will with his Daddy! He’s so happy.” Mrs. Averill exclaimed, smiling at the sight.

“Good to see you as well, Mrs. Averill. Finally got my leave, it’s been a mess over there, trying to keep on some kind of schedule.” John replied, watching as Will’s eyes lit up at the brightly colored candy.

“I know you’re ready for that child to be born, Martha, any day now.” 

“Hopefully by the end of the week, I’m more than ready for them to arrive.” 

Martha leaned against John as he chatted with Mr. Averill for a few minutes and then the three walked out slowly, heading back towards the Shelby house. Mrs. Averill watched them go, elated that John had been able to come home, and worried about when he would have to leave again.

Martha stopped for a break against the corner of a brick house down the road, John rubbing her back with one hand while Will was cradled in his other arm. John had just brushed Martha’s hair over her shoulder when he heard a small babble from Will.

“What was that, mate?” John asked teasingly, smiling at his son.

“Da! Dada!” Will said happily, grinning back, his baby teeth showing. 

“Did he just talk?” John asked Martha in surprise.

“I think so. Will, darling, who is this? Who’s holding you?” Martha asked, pointing to John.

“Dada! Dada, dada, dada!” Will responded, touching John’s face.

John’s smile was so beautiful and happy that Martha’s eyes welled up. At least twice a day she showed Will a picture of John and explained to him that he was his daddy. Clearly the reminders had worked. 

“Good job, mate, that’s right. I am your Daddy. Love you.” John said to Will, as he held him at eye level.

Will’s little hands reached out and with one hand on each side of John’s face, the two stared into the other’s matching eyes, grey blue to grey blue. John saw himself and his future.

************************************************************************

Shortly after returning home, Martha felt a strange sensation and realized what was happening just as her water broke, while standing in the kitchen. John was in the other room, putting Will down for a nap, and no one else was home. John walked in and saw her standing awkwardly, holding onto the back of a chair.

“Mar? What is it?” He asked worriedly, helping her sit down.

“It’s starting. Do you think you can get me upstairs? Ada or Polly should be back soon, someone will have to run for the midwife.” Martha said, her breath short as she fought back against contraction pain. 

“We’ll go slow. I’ve got you, love.” John said, trying to remain calm as he put his arm around her.

After a slow climb up the stairs, a sleeping Will held against him, John settled Martha onto her vanity chair as he changed the bedding at her request. Everything needed for the delivery had been waiting for 2 months on the dresser, just in case. He helped her onto the bed and made her as comfortable as he could, holding her hand while listening for the front door.

Nearly an hour went by before he finally heard it open. 

“We’ll be back, Mar. Hang in there.” John said as he picked up Will and kissed Martha’s forehead before running back downstairs.

“Poll, thank God you’re back. Martha’s in labor, something about water?” John relayed as he ran into the kitchen.

“Ada, go get Mary Brickman - that’s the midwife, John - and I’ll go up to sit with Martha in the meantime. Finn should be home any minute from school, John you stay down here with him and Will for now.” 

The siblings followed Polly’s orders, Ada running out the door and John settling into a kitchen chair, waiting for his little brother. He wanted to go back to Martha, but this was women’s business, and he’d stay out the way if he was told to do so.

Hours went by as the midwife, Mary, joined the Shelby women upstairs. John occupied Finn the best he could until it was finally Finn’s bedtime. John tucked him in, noting to himself that it could be for the last time. Finn was growing up and soon he wouldn’t want anyone doing this at all, even his big brother.

“John?” Finn asked, as they heard a faint wail from upstairs.

“Yes, Finn?” John replied, trying to block out the noise.

“You said Martha’s having the baby. Where do babies come from anyway?” Finn asked again, his face giving away his deep curiosity.

John thought back to Martha’s letter, warning him about Finn’s question, and laughed to himself. How was he going to explain this? 

“Well … it happens when a man and a woman love each other, and spend a lot of time alone together. And they decide it’s time to have a baby.” John replied, trying to stay vague.

“So you just decide?”

“You decide to, and then um … you spend a night together or a lot of nights, in the same bed, and often a baby is made. Yeah.” 

“So you and Martha love each other and decided to have a baby?”

“Right. We got married, decided, and then Will was born. And then we decided to have another baby.”

“But why do you decide to have a baby?”

“That’s a hard question, Finn. Some people choose not to and that’s okay. And some people choose to because it’s like … a way to show your love for each other. A baby comes from two people and love that they share.”

John watched as Finn took this in and prayed that would be the last of the questioning. Finn wasn’t old enough to really understand why babies happened outside of a loving relationship as well, and John could barely explain his situation in the first place.

“Do you think I’ll meet the baby tomorrow?” 

“I hope so, Finn. Sleep well, little brother.” 

John turned out the kerosene lamp and watched as his brother settled further into bed. If not for his own experiences with Finn, he wouldn’t have had a clue of how to be a father to his own kids. Arthur Sr. had never done anything useful besides be an example of how to be a terrible father. Which, did have it’s use in some ways.

Upstairs, Martha was getting closer to delivering the baby and the thought of John downstairs was both distracting and depressing to her. She needed him and she also wanted him to experience this with her.  

“I want John up here.” Martha said through gritted teeth.

“This is women’s business, dear.” Mary replied, placing a cool towel on Martha’s forehead.

“Don’t care. I want John up here. Now.” Martha demanded.

Mary looked at Polly who nodded and then turned to Ada.

“Send up your brother, and get the kettle going for tea.” Polly said.

Ada nodded and bit back a laugh as she turned to run down the stairs. Not many people ever got to see Martha be so commanding, mostly just John, who adored it. One of the many things that made them a good couple, he found her devious and demanding moods endearing, and he knew exactly how to play into it.

“John! Martha wants you up there. Much to the midwife’s dismay. I warn you, it’s not pretty.” Ada announced as she entered the kitchen.

“Watch Will?” John asked and stood, preparing like a soldier for whatever he might witness.

Ada started the kettle and checked on Will while John made his way upstairs. He remembered the sounds that came out of his parent’s bedroom the night Finn was born and admitted to himself that he was a little bit terrified of what was to come.

He found Martha propped against pillows, hair tangled around her head, as the midwife had her hands on Martha’s stomach. Polly was occupied with pails of warm water and towels, and he watched a moment, gaining courage.

“I’m here, Mar.” John said as he walked over to the bed.

Martha turned to him, looking both simultaneously annoyed and happy to see him. She reached out her hand and he took it, sitting next to her. He leaned forward and pulled her hair up off her neck, piling it above her head on the pillow. Martha smiled gratefully and kept her eyes locked on him through her next contraction. 

“You’re close now, Martha. Just keep doing exactly what you’re doing, alright?” Mary commented as she stood up and prepared a variety of instruments that made John wince.

Martha nodded and maintained eye contact with John, one of their many silent conversations. As scared as he was, he realized Martha wanted them to go through this together, and it only made sense, since he was responsible for this child as well. Why shouldn’t he be involved?

John’s hand was numb from Martha’s grip as she screamed through another hour of pain. He was amazed at her strength and willpower, to keep going when she was exhausted, nature taking over the process. It was just before midnight when their second child was born, the midwife placing the wailing baby against Martha’s chest. 

“It’s a girl and she looks perfectly healthy. Born just in time for a May birthday.” Mary commented as she smiled at the newborn.

John placed his hand carefully on the baby’s back, as Martha supported her head, and felt his eyes well up. The pair smiled at each other, lost in their own world, as Polly watched from the doorway, a fresh pot of warm water in hand. Like anyone who looked at her nephew and his wife, she knew this baby really had been made and born out of love.

Late the following morning, John pulled himself out bed and wandered downstairs for food and to find Will. He ate a large helping of breakfast that Polly had left for him on the stove, Ada and Will keeping him company.

“How’s Martha doing?” Ada asked, sipping her tea.

“Good, I think, anyway. Mostly seems relieved that the baby is actually born now. I know she’s in for a lot of late nights alone.” John replied, his voice trailing off, knowing he’d be leaving again soon.

“We’ll help her, John, I promise. You take care of yourself out there and we’ll take care of things here. I want to meet my new niece soon, so you best get you and this little one back upstairs.” 

John nodded and then laughed, picking up Will and swinging him around in the air. They walked back upstairs, and Will stared quietly at his mother, who held the newborn. John sat carefully next to them on the bed, Will in his lap.

“Will this is your little sister, Katherine. Katie. You two will be good friends and take care of each other, yeah?” John said as Will reached out a chubby little hand to the baby in front of him.

Martha smiled as she watched her two children interact for the first time, knowing it was the right choice to have them so close in age. They reminded her of John and Ada, who, for as much bickering as they did, were fiercely protective of each other. Katie stirred against Martha’s chest, and Martha watched as John watched their daughter.  

“Do you want to hold her? We can switch, I think Will needs some cuddles from me, don’t you darling?” Martha commented.

John nodded and they carefully swapped Katie and Will, John leaning back so that Katie was supported against his chest, his hand nearly covering her entire body. She reminded him of a small kitten, curled up into him. As the four of them lay there, John made a silent promise. He now had another little person to get back to, and he swore he would.

Remember this.

It was one of the quietest periods of John’s life, staying home with his family for the remainder of his leave, only leaving Martha’s side for the utmost necessities. He was awake every few hours, picking up Katie, handing her off to Martha to be fed, and then making sure they were both comfortable before going back to sleep. It filled Martha’s heart, to see John make such a commitment to their family, to their children, to her. She knew he was exhausted from what he’d endured, the scenes of war were now a constant flicker in his eyes, but he carried on, making the most of every moment they had at home.

On his final day of leave, John took the latest train out of Small Heath that he possibly could, knowing he was cutting it close to his return time back with his regiment. Mrs. Averill had dropped by several times during his leave, cleaned his uniform and restocked his pack, all while promising to be by every couple of days to check in on the new mother and baby. It was a kindness neither John or Martha would forget.

The family made their usual procession down to the train platform, John held Will, Martha holding Katie, and the rest trailing behind. Martha had done her best to look put together for the day, fretting in front of her mirror, John watching from the door. He’d walked over and taken the hairbrush from her hand, gently running it through her hair, before asking her to leave it down because he liked it that way. She knew he did like it down, but that it was also his way of saying not to worry about how it looked.

He turned to her now at the train station, letting his mind take in every piece of her. The green eyes he loved, her long blonde hair twisting and curling down her back. Her arm as it wrapped around his side, her head pressing into his chest, his lips to her forehead, closing his eyes.

“I’ll see you soon, mate, I’m coming back to you.” John said to Will as he held the boy closely before handing him over to Ada.

Martha placed Katie in John’s hands and he smiled down at her, trying to leave with her a happy memory of his face.

“And you, my little Kitty Kat, I’ll see you soon, too. I promise you.” He whispered as he gently kissed her cheek.

Polly stepped forward to hold Katie and John pulled Martha into him as tightly as he could. He rocked her side to side gently, hand on the back of her head, as she took in the final moments of feeling her body against his, his hand on her waist. The way held her that was so strong and so gentle at the same time.

“I love you forever, Mar. I’m coming back to you, my love.” John said quietly as they looked at each other, the rest of the world falling away.

“I know you will. I love you, always, Johnny. We’ll be waiting for you.” Martha replied, holding his face.

Every kiss goodbye seemed more important than the last, like every leave home meant a dwindling chance that John would return once more. This one seared into his memory, the quiet desperation, how Martha gripped the back of his neck like her life depended on it. John looked down at her one more time, taking in how even under her own exhaustion, Martha was still the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

“You’re gorgeous love, don’t forget that. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with you.” John said, winking at her as he looked down, catching her small smile in return.

The sun was high as he boarded the train, turning around to take in another look. Will started yelling “Dada! Dada!” and it nearly killed John to step up and into the cabin. He watched from the window as Martha held a still sleeping Katie, Will fighting against Ada’s grasp. Blue grey and bright green, the sun glinting off long blonde hair, and he watched until he could see them no more. 

Remember.

#john shelby fanfic #john shelby imagine #joe cole #john shelby #martha shelby #martha shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #the heart underneath #ada shelby fanfic #ada shelby #polly gray fanfic #polly gray

[mydear-corinthian]

A Peaky Blinder || Shelby Family x reader

Synopsis: You encountering an assaulter while drinking on the Garrison pub. Pairing: Shelby Family x sister! reader (except for Finn & Ada) Warnings: sexual assault, gun violence, mentions of blood, and swearing Notes: Not proofread, there are some grammatical errors Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

This week feels like hell.

Loads of men barging in the shop, betting and betting like there was no tomorrow. As the accountant of the family and the business, it felt like hell.

A drink would help you stress down after a week of non-stop working. The trip to the family's tavern, the Garrison, was simple-- taking a short route there instead of the long way.

You opened the doors of the Garrison, immediately sitting down on the counter. You sat down, taking a deep sigh.

"Hello, (y/n). What drink do you want?" Harry, the bartender, asked you as soon as he saw you sitting down.

"It's alright, Harry. I'll get it," you replied, grabbing the big glass of bottle filled with your family's most famous drink, Gin, behind the counter's cupboard in front of you.

You opened the lid, tossing it at the side of the table, chugging the drink down.

"Rough week, innit?" Harry asked, wiping the unused glasses.

"Very rough week, Harry," you replied, taking a deep sigh.

"Why would people risk betting their money for a what? A race? It's funny but hey, who am I to judge? At least they're helping us work the business out."

The talk with you and Harry kept on going until both of your heads turned, looking at the doors after hearing them open harshly.

Three men entered the tavern. Dirty suits, hats on, and cigarettes designing their lips.

They walked up to the counter just beside you as they started to state their order.

"3 glasses of whiskey for us," you heard one of them order.

You just went on with your drink, Harry muttering an 'excuse me' to you before he was out of your sight, giving the 3 gentlemen their order.

"Slow down, love," you heard one of them.

You turned your head to them and tilted. "Sorry?"

"I said slow down drinking. You're too pretty to drink this whole bottle of yours to yourself.. and too pretty to be a whore either," he commented, looking up and down at you, licking his lips slowly.

He just called you a whore.

"What did you just call me, sir?" you asked in disbelief. You got up slowly, crossing your arms together, looking up at him.

"Ah, I get it. You're a feisty one, eh? A feisty whore.. I like it." he chuckled, his finger tracing your cheeks and then your curves.

"Fuck off, prick,"

Encounters like this in the Garrison were unfortunately normal. Weird, uncomfortable men doing this to women every day.

It was indeed normal but you can't help but be disappointed and sad for the women. Getting treated like this by men.

"Don't you fucking touch me," you shouted, slapping his hand off you.

You felt a hand gripping your jaw, your body pressed up on the counter. "How about I fuck you on this counter? Let these men watch us?" he whispered in your ear, his hand grabbing your hips harshly.

Mentally, you want to grab your gun and shoot him, on his groin, specifically.

and why not do it?

You turned your body, now facing him. A smile formed on your face. Your hands roam around his face and down there. Your hand cupped his manhood earning him a soft moan.

"Sir, I want to do something here.." you innocently said, your eyes meeting his and licking your lips slowly.

"Go on, love. Do it," he replied, and his two other friends laughed.

Your other hand was free, you used this opportunity to grab the small gun on your small bag and immediately fired his groin.

You let go of your hands on his right away. Blood is painted on your palm. You laughed, laughed at the sight in front of you.

The feeling of victory sprawled all over you. Finally putting men like him into their proper places and what they deserve.

He screamed in pain, cussing you out with all the swear words he knows.

Your brothers, except Finn and your older sister, Ada, rushed out of their small compartment just near the counter, guns in their hands.

You heard your older brother shout, "What the fuck is going on here!?"

Polly was with them, she looked at you and the man, she immediately knew what happened and she couldn't help but paint her face with a smirk.

"This whore shot my dick!" the man replied angrily, pressing his manhood, giving it pressure to avoid more blood coming out of it while his free hand was on your dress, gripping it near your neck.

Your brother's facial expression changed into disbelief when they heard the man calling you, their sister, a whore. Tommy inspected the man by looking at him up and down, mentally planning on how to take him down.

John scoffed in disbelief too, he grabbed his gun from his breast pocket immediately and pointed it directly at the man who assaulted you. He, then, harshly asked him, "Are you calling my sister a whore?"

Hearing John's question made your assaulter's eye widen in fear and appalled. He knew he fucked up. He knew he was going to get harshly beaten up-- or worse, die.

"Sister? I-I didn't know she was your sister, Mr. S-Shelby." he stammered. His head shaking violently, begging for forgiveness for what he did to you.

Rolling your eyes, you slapped his face. "Great. Now you respect me because I'm a Shelby and not because I'm a woman, and put the gun down, John. I'll handle this, it's my issue."

"We're here for backup, (y/n), alright?" Arthur commented.

You sighed, your gun still in your hand.

"Look, mister. What you did pissed me off and did not help me calm down after an exhausting fucking week but since I want to show mercy, you are lucky. You are free to go."

The 2 men ran away straightly to the tavern's doors, exiting the bar in no time. Your injured assaulter bowed his head many times and muttered a 'thank you' while limply running to the exit.

"Get out of my bar now, my mercy expires in 10 seconds," you said, massaging your temples out of stressfulness.

The man was still inside the Garrison after 10 seconds but he was already close to the exit, still limping.

You shot the floor, just near his legs. He ran faster until he was finally outside of the bar.

You laughed again at the sight. You turned the safety lock of your gun again before bringing it back inside of your black purse.

You heard slow claps coming from your brothers and your aunt. They walked toward you while clapping.

"Handled it like a true Peaky Blinder. I'm proud of 'ya, sis." your oldest brother congratulated you. Put his arm over the back of your shoulders and gave you a side hug.

Polly cupped both of your cheeks, caressing it with her finger slowly. "I'm proud of you, (y/n). Your mother would be so proud of you." She smiled lovingly. She cannot contain her happiness after what you did.

"Wait- you said you had a stressful week? Is it because of the overtime at the betting shop?" John interrupted, recalling what you said earlier and made him ask you about it.

You nodded in response, "Yeah. There were a lot of customers and being an accountant isn't easy, y'know?"

Tommy inhaled his half-full cigarette while listening to the conversation. He doesn't want to see his sister being stressed because of work so he planned on giving you a paid leave. "If it's like that then you can leave for a while and be back once you're good. Michael can be our accountant until you come back."

You shook your head, rejecting his offer. "It's alright, Tommy. I can handle it but is it okay if I'll just work on half-days instead of full days?"

"If that's want you want then it's fine with me," Tommy answered.

THE END

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly gray

[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

#That’s what Cill said #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #polly gray #arthur shelby imagine #polly gray imagine #john shelby imagine #michael shelby imagine

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

I love your work I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So you are tommy daughter or the youngest Shelby sister and u are 2 years old

And Arthur or John or Finn is looking after u and u get sick and tommy’s not home at the moment so she just cries until he gets home no matter how hard the others try to console her and then when he gets home and he holds you stop crying and fell asleep hope that make sense

Hey love! Of course i can do this request for you!

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR TRANSLATION OR POSTING ON A DIFFERENT SITE.

Summary: request above.

{Y/N}: Your name.

Word count: 1,023.

Once Finn was born, the Shelby clan felt like the family was complete, they hoped their parents would stop having children since they were barely looked after by them.

However, just under two years after Finn Shelby was born, [Y/N] Shelby entered the world. The second daughter of Arthur Shelby and youngest sister to the Shelby brothers.

Since she was born, she had a handful of health issues, ranging from constant illnesses to developmental delays. This caused her to look younger then she is and resulted in Polly becoming very cautious of going outside with the young girl. When [Y/N} was taken outside, Tommy and Polly would make sure she had on at least three layers.

However, the winter had been brutal on the young girls body, it had snowed for the first time in ten years in Birmingham, and like any other child {Y/N} wanted to go outside and play with the the playful swirling snowflakes coming down from the sky. Polly knew it wasn't safe but the young girl was growing and seeing snow in Birmingham was a rare occasion. She let {Y/N] go outside for ten minutes.

Two days later, Polly had regretted that decision. Polly had woken up that morning expecting the young girl to be awake in her bed waiting for her aunt to take her downstairs to make her breakfast. Instead Polly had found her niece still asleep curled up in her bed, from where Polly was standing she was able to see {Y/N]'s skin glistening with sweat.

The middle aged woman immediately walks away from the child's room, going to Tommy's room and knocks on loudly, knowing her nephew would be awake, Polly opens the door " get dressed and go to the doctor down the road" she demands.

Tommy stood up quickly, puling on a pair of his tailored trousers then followed by putting on a shirt " {Y/N] again?" he asks, he knew it was for his sister but asked anyway.

" i don't know whats wrong with her yet" Polly uttered, her voice full of stress and panic.

Polly rushes back over to her nieces room, walking over to the young girls bed, wrapping her arms around the fragile body of her ill riddled body of the youngest Shelby.

{Y/N} small mouse like voice breaks out from her throat "pol" she whispers, her voice cracking, squirming slightly. The young girl was uncomfortable, the warmth from her fever coming through in bursts, her night clothes soaked in her own sweat.

The sound of Tommy leaving his room followed by the sound of the front door opening and close less then a minute later reassured Polly that help would soon be on the way.

Three hours later.

It had been hours since Tommy had left the house, he had not come back. {Y/N]'s fever had gotten worse as the hours past, Polly had given her several cold water baths to try and bring her fever down but nothing was helping.

The sickly young girl had become distressed, her wailing voice filed the small Shelby home. Her brothers and aunt doing everything they could think of to comfort her.

" Don't hold her like that Finn, that will just make her more upset" the eldest Shelby brother barked at his youngest brother.

Finn was holding his sister under armpits and arms length away from him. " shes contagious"

Arthur grumbles and stands up from the dinning room table, stalking towards his siblings, taking his sister gently from the arms of his brother. " You're a Shelby Finn, you've got other things you should be more scared of" Arthur points out.

The eldest Shelby, holds his sister, his hand on the bottom of her back whilst his other arm sat under her legs to support her weight, The young girl lays her head on her brothers shoulder hiccuping as she cries.

" where is bloody Tommy" Arthur grumbles, looking towards Polly as she walks out of the kitchen holding a cloth. The older woman walks over to Arthur, gently wiping the cold cloth against the forehead of the sickly looking child.

" He's coming Arthur, doctor is probably busy with other children sick from this weather"

" Other children aren't {Y/N} pol, she could di--" Polly quickly interrupts Arthur.

" don't be ridiculous Arthur" Polly hissed.

However, Arthur wasn't wrong and Polly knew this, her niece was already weak from birth and the doctor had warned the family that {Y/N} could die from becoming ill, its just the matter of what will kill her and when.

Luckily, the sound of the front door opening and shutting filled the chaotic family home of the Shelby's. Footsteps clunking towards the room filled with hiccups, coughs and wailing.

The sight of Tommy Shelby was a relief for Polly but when she didn't see the doctor her stress levels turned up a notch. Tommy takes his cap off followed by his jacket.

Tommy walks over to his older brother, Arthur transferring his sister over to him " the doctor will come in a few hours, he is full today with other patients" Tommy explains.

Polly runs her slender fingers over her eyebrows, sighing " her fever isn't breaking Tommy, shes making herself worse by crying" his aunt vents.

The sight of the most feared Shelby rocking his youngest sister as she holds one of his fingers wasn't a rare sight for the family, since {Y/N} was born it was clear her and Tommy had bonded incredibly quick and nothing could break that bond.

The house slowly began to become quiet, the occasional hiccup and cough appeared, Tommy sits on the couch, his sister slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing for the first time since the morning.

Polly laughs and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips. " i should have known" she smiles.

Finn frowns and looks towards Polly " known what?" he asks, oblivious.

Polly grabs a cigarette from her metal case and uses a match to light it, then sits down at the dinning room table for the first time since waking up.

" All she wanted was her Thomas".

A/N: Hello again, i apologise for the long wait for this, life has been hectic and i had no time to post anything but i finally have time to post on here! i appreciate all the Reposts, Likes and Comments.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders masterlist #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x sister!reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x sister!reader #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #arthur shelby #shelby sister #polly gray #polly shelby #finn shelby #peaky blinders

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)

Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE

Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.

But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.

She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.

And by extend, you are too.

Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.

TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)

ACT I.

♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes

♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared

♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞

♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour

♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes

♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned

♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞

♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams

ACT II.

♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll

♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞

♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn

♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did

♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞

♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World

♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)

♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)

♢ Ch. 18 ||

ACT III.

♢ Ch. 18 ||

♢ Ch. 19 ||

♢ Ch. 20 ||

♢ Ch. 21 ||

♢ Ch. 22 ||

♢ Ch. 23 ||

♢ Ch. 24 ||

♢ Ch. 25 ||

♢ The series can be longer.

Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.

Related works - in chronological order-

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Savage Daughter

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)

♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)

♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)

Moodboards and other content

♢ Playlist

♢ Moodboard Aesthetic

♢ Moodboard Chapter 6

♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer

♢ Moodboard Chapter 12

♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer

Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko

#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #Arthur shelby x oc #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby x reader #Tommy shelby x oc #Arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby jr #arthur shelby x y/n #Arthur shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby x reader #Arthur shelby x ofc #Heaven Shelby #Polly Gray #Michael Gray #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #Paul anderson #Cillian Murphy

[zablife]

The Black Madonna

Polly Gray x granddaughter reader

A/N: Written for @look-at-the-soul The Grandma Series.

"I-I want y-you to have this," your gran struggled as she attempted to retrieve the necklace from round her neck.

You attempted to stop her, but she shook you free with an unusual show of strength. "No!" she cried out, her stubborn nature on full display as she worked the black beads from her head and placed them into your hand. She closed your fingers into a fist and squeezed gently as she nodded slowly.

Tears welled along your lash line as she explained, "As a Shelby, you need protection now more than I, my darling."

The lump in your throat grew, unable to protest her wishes. It would have been futile to do so anyway. When Polly Gray made up her mind about something, you didn't fight her. However, as your opposite hand came to stroke the paper soft skin of her hand, you realized the vulnerability that lie beneath her confident exterior.

"Don't leave me," you begged, voice pathetically thin and weak.

"I'll always be with you," she promised, rich brown eyes warming you as only she could. "But you must be strong now."

The tears flowed freely now though you bit your tongue to prevent them. You didn't want her to see the hole she left with her departure. "I...I promise," you finally whispered to her.

"That's my girl," she smiled back at you.

When you eventually relinquished her hand, you hesitantly looped the necklace over your head and looked down at the black Madonna that lay over your heart. Rubbing your thumb over the precious medallion your felt your strength growing. Polly willed it to be.

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Polly Gray fanfic #Polly Gray imagine #Polly Gray x you #Polly Gray x reader #Polly Gray x y/n

[kkurades]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ RED LIPSTICK ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

━━ you feel flattered when charlie shelby asks to marry you while your husband feels like he could strangle his nephew

word count: 2014

pairing: fem!reader x john shelby

warnings: none

The Shelby's were always your family.

From a young age, you had been a Shelby. Even though you weren't blood-related, they were more of a family than your actual family could ever be.

While you and Ada were nearest in age, you had always been closest with John.

It didn't matter whether you were two youthful teenagers messing around or two passionate lovers who tried to find their place in the world.

You and John had always been each other's priority.

So, it came as no surprise when you turned out being pregnant by John at the age of sixteen.

You and John happily married each other as Arthur walked you down the aisle.

The day that your first daughter had been born was the day that John vowed to you that he would grant you more children if that was what made you happy.

So, you had five more kids after Katie.

Even though your life was far from ideal, you still loved it with every fiber in your body.

John was an incredible husband. He was always faithful to you and constantly made an effort to spend as much time as he could with you and the kids.

A particular thing that he loved to do was to spoil you. Anytime you even merely glimpsed at a dress, the following day it would be hanging in your wardrobe.

You had frequently told John that he didn't have to purchase you expensive items, but he constantly said that he loved to do it.

Tonight, you were wearing a black dress that John had bought you for a gala that would be hosted by one of Tommy's business partners.

You were seated on the bench that stood in front of your bed as you slipped on your heels. A giggle escaped your mouth as you felt John's wet kisses on the side of your neck as he crept onto you from behind.

“John, we can't do this right now,” you said while your husband wrapped his arms around you.

“We can do whatever the fuck we want,” he muttered against the base of your throat as his hands roamed over your body.

You tilted your head back onto his shoulder, which gave him more access to your neck.

“Fucking hell, love,” John mumbled as a grin appeared on his chiseled face.

Just before he could get any further, you heard the door to your shared bedroom open, revealing your third-born son.

“Mummy! Tell Katie to stop putting makeup on me!” He cried out, entirely ignoring John who looked like he was done with his life.

John loved your kids, he really did. But he can't stop questioning why they won't ever leave the two of you alone for more than five minutes.

Fred ran over to you before leaping onto your lap as he buried his face into your neck, which John had been harassing a few moments prior.

“Bloody hell, Fred. What'd Katie do to your face?” John asked his son as he caught a glimpse of red lipstick smeared all over his face and a deep green eye shadow covering the lids of his eye.

“She put it all over my face!” He hissed while he attempted to conceal his face into your neck as deep as he could.

“That's not true, mum! He asked me to do it for him!” You heard Katie yell from her room while Fred settled down in your arms.

John let out a groan before getting off the bed to get a damp cloth to get the cosmetics off his son's face.

While he went to the bathroom, you caressed Fred's back soothingly which lulled him to sleep along with your consoling flower perfume which you had applied earlier that evening.

When John returned, you carefully turned your son in your arms before softly wiping the makeup from his face.

After having made sure that his face was spotless you stood up to carry him to his chamber while John watched you quietly.

You put Fred to bed before making sure that all of your other children were all safe and sound in their beds.

You kissed them all on their forehead as they told you a 'goodnight mum' before you switched off the light and made your way back to your shared room.

When you entered your room, you noticed John slumping against the headboard while he stared at the wall opposite of him.

“John?” You leaned against the door frame as he glanced at you before he clambered off the bed and made his way towards you.

Your husband tugged you into his taller frame while kissing you gently. He kissed the corner of your mouth before he lowered his lips to your jaw. When he reached your neck, he instantly pulled back as a disgusted look was present on his handsome features.

You furrowed your brows curiously as he stormed off towards the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom.

A few moments later you followed him only to see him holding his tongue under the water.

When he looked up at the mirror where he saw your figure, he gestured to his neck as the water got all over him.

“Gret hot uhin mahuh aw awe joh ek,” he mumbled as you frowned with a perplexed look on your face.

“What now?” John rolled his eyes before repeating the same sentence. When he noticed that you weren’t going to comprehend what he said, he turned off the water before turning to you.

“Fred got fucking makeup all over your neck,” he snarled, which made you look in the mirror where you glimpsed red and green lipstick stained on your neck.

“Oh,” you simply said before grabbing a damp towel to get it off your neck while John went to change his clothes so that he would look appropriate tonight.

After having scrubbed your neck, you made your way downstairs. John was already waiting at the front door with an adoring smile on his face as you put on your coat.

“You ready love?” You nodded at your husband, taking his outstretched arm before making your way to his car.

During the car ride to the Arrow house, you chatted John's ear off, which he didn't mind even if he whined about it.

Briefly afterward, you reached your destination before you made your way inside where the rest of the Shelby's stood.

“You're finally here! I was beginning to think that you two got lost,” Arthur exclaimed as he caught sight of you.

“Nah, the kids were being pissy,” John wrapped his arm around your waist, catching the lingering stares of the men who surrounded you.

You greeted all of your in-laws before going to stand next to Tommy, who was supervising Charlie.

“How's Charlie?” Tommy turned to you, allowing his eyes to leave Charlie for the first time that night, which provided him the opportunity to take off.

“He's alright. How're the kids?”

“They're alright,” you echoed, which made his lips turn upwards slightly.

“I-” Tommy was rapidly cut off as he noticed Charlie nearing the two of you with a cheeky smile on his child like features.

You scrunched up your face in disarray at Tommy's interruption before you followed his sight line and noticed Charlie.

The young boy had slicked his hair back with water and had requested Polly to make sure that he looked decent.

The two of you silently stared at Charlie as he cleared his throat before extending his arm out towards you.

“Dear Miss. Y/l/n allow me this dance,” you noticed that he resorted to using your maiden name and that he addressed you with Miss instead of Mrs.

You and Tommy shared an amused glance before you accepted his offer.

“Of course Mr. Shelby,” you took his arm, having to bent down slightly because he was five.

He chose a spot in the middle of the room before he turned back to you and made you pick him up so that you were in the same eye line.

“You look extremely beautiful. As usual, of course,” he rambled nervously with negligibly flush cheeks while you danced softly from side to side.

“Thank you sir. You look very handsome if you ask me,” you remarked with a kind smile on your face, which made him giggle giddily.

John had been searching for you for the past ten minutes after having closed an agreement with one of their business partners.

He had felt exceptionally pleased with himself and was thrilled to tell his wife about his triumph.

When he asked Polly about your whereabouts, but she told him that she saw you last with Tommy.

So now he was making his way to his older brother who was staring off somewhere with a fond smile on his face while Arthur was cracking up beside to him.

“Tommy, have you seen Y/n? Can’t find her anywhere,” Tommy and Arthur turned towards their younger brother before they swapped an amused look.

“Careful there John-boy little Charlie is planning to steal your wife,” Arthur laughed loudly which drew in some unwanted attention.

John furrowed his brows as he followed Arthur’s finger which was pointing at Charlie, who had enveloped his legs around his wife’s waist while she swayed from side to side with a smile on her face.

“That little fucker,” John mumbled under his breath as Arthur laughed even harder if that was achievable, and a small grin arose on Tommy’s face.

Polly and Micheal drew near the brothers, having noticed them by Arthur's loud laughing.

“What’s going on?” Tommy grinned at his aunt and cousin as Arthur was practically rolling on the floor, while John didn’t keep his eyes off his nephew who had caught his stare and smiled mischievously at him which only aggravated him more.

“My nephew is a real lady’s man,” Both Polly and Micheal glanced at Charlie who was kissing your cheek while maintaining eye contact with his furious uncle.

Micheal grinned slightly as the corner of Polly’s lips turned upwards in amusement.

“I swear if he doesn’t get his fucking hands off my wife, I will,” John declared angrily before you caught them all watching you.

You smiled sweetly at your family, which made your husband smile back at you while Arthur was trying to retain his giggles.

When the song ended, you put Charlie down before he led you back towards the Shelby's who were watching you with amusement shimmering in their eyes.

John quickly took you back from Charlie, which made the small boy frown before he turned to his father.

“I want to marry Y/n,” he simply spoke.

Your eyes enlarged while you gaped at him, Arthur got into another fit of laughter while your husband looked ready to annihilate his nephew.

“No. Absolutely fucking not,” John stated, which made Charlie roll his eyes at his uncle.

“And why not?” He questioned sassy.

“She’s already married to me,” John replied, Charlie, walked over to you and held your hand while the rest of the family silently watched the scene unfold.

“So? She can divorce you,”

“She’s too old for you. She could be your mother. Besides, she’s your aunt,” Your husband looked ready to pulverize him.

“But if you two divorce, then she won’t be my aunt anymore. And any woman older than eighteen could be my mother. Didn’t you get her pregnant when she was sixteen?”

Micheal choked on his drink, and you stared at Charlie with a perplexed look on your face. Polly was full-on grinning, while Arthur was turning red from the lack of air.

“Get here you little shit,” Tommy held John back as his son backed into you, looking for your protection from your husband.

“I think you should run before your uncle catches you,” you whispered to Charlie, who nodded before taking off into the crowd.

“Well, that was fucking amazing,” Arthur spoke before downing his drink at once.

©cupidsheqrt , 2022.

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders masterlist #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #john shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby x you #john shelby x reader #tommy shelby #polly gray #charlie shelby #arthur shelby #micheal gray

[tommyshelbyswh0re]

the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby

summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?

trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.

angst

dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader

you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.

you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.

you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.

deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.

you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.

when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.

“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.

“huh?” he raised his brow

“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.

“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.

“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.

“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.

“never new tom had a daughter”

“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.

“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.

you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.

“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.

“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.

“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.

“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.

“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.

“you could say so yes” you replied.

“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.

“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.

“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.

for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.

“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.

you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.

the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.

“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.

a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.

“go easy” he sternly told you.

you glared at him.

from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.

“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.

“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.

“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.

“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.

“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.

“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.

“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.

“who?” tommy asked

“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.

“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.

“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.

“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.

just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.

on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.

the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.

you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.

“is that you y/n?” she smiled.

“hello” you suddenly felt shy.

“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.

“how have you been y/n?” she asked.

“good, i graduated school”

“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked

“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”

“why two jobs?” ada asked

“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”

“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded

“why would he?” you asked.

“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.

“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.

“yes”

“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.

“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.

“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked

“don’t have any” your shrugged.

“what about school friends?”

“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.

“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.

“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”

arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.

“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.

you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.

“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.

“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.

ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.

“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”

you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”

your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.

“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.

he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.

a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.

“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.

“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.

“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.

“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.

“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.

“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.

“i know” he nodded.

“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.

“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.

“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.

“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”

“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.

“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.

“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.

“its not really dinner talk is it.”

“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.

“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.

“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”

“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.

“you remember that?” he asked

“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”

“i am so sorry y/n”

“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed

“why did you come?” he asked.

“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”

“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.

“why?” you questioned

“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.

you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.

you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”

he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused

“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.

“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.

“okay.”

#peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #peaky blinders #polly gray #john shelby #arthur shelby #alfie solomons #angst #peaky blinder fanfic #masterlist

[notyour-valentine]

I'm not sure if you write for her but 24 kinda feels like a Polly thing to say🪴

(Not only that but I'm also a 🐕 for women🪰)

The Virtues of Men ~ Polly Gray x Reader (Fluff)

[Celebration] [Celebration Masterlist] [Masterlist]

(18/21+). I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Words: 726 words

The front door ripped her from the pages of her novel, making her head snap up, then to the clock that resided atop the mantlepiece of the fireplace, where a fire had long been crackling. 

They heard it too and at once, Myrina was out the door, up and ready to face any intruder, but Otrera only glanced at her and when she spotted no sight of distress in her eyes, she settled down again. 

After all, there was only one person who would arrive this late. 

With a slight sigh, she put the book aside and slipped out from under the blanket, running her hand over Otrera’s head, but like expected, she trotted after her. When they reached the top of the stairs, she could see Myrina running around in giddy circles, wagging her tail, while their newcomer tried to calm her down enough to rub her behind the ear. “Alright, alright. It’s just me!”, she said with a hint of impatience in her voice. 

“Indeed it is.”

Her voice gave her position away and she smiled softly. 

“I thought you were leaving for Birmingham by now.”, she said as she descended the stairs to greet her properly, even if her coat had already been taken. 

“That would mean driving home with them and that is the last thing I will be doing tonight!”, Polly Gray hissed. 

They met in the middle and she wrapped the other woman in an embrace. 

“Oh dear, that bad?”, she asked. 

The only response was a long and deep sigh. 

She laced her fingers with her as they walked back to the sitting room together. 

“Would you like a drink?”, she asked, as Polly slumped down on the sofa, the spot she had just left. 

“I’d like about five.”, she mumbled. 

Otrera hopped up and rested her head in her lap, awaiting the soothing scratching behind the ear. 

Before Polly, the whisky remained mostly untouched, but she always kept a fresh bottle and ice close by. It was her poison of choice, that and champagne, but tonight seemed like a whisky night. 

“So what have they done?”, she asked as she handed Polly the glass before kneeling down and undoing her heeled shoes. 

They were pretty, yes, even to the point where she got a bit melancholy that their feet didn’t have the same size, but they weren’t exactly comfortable. 

“What they always do.”, she said with a sigh, leaning her head back against the pale blue cushions and closed her eyes. “Thinking with nothing but their egos and their cocks.”

She stifled her giggle as she sat down next to her, with Myrina jumping in her lap ar once, clearly jealous of the way Otrera was being spoilt. 

“Men!”, Polly hissed as she took a big sip of her drink before resting it dangerously on her novel, but for tonight she’d let it slide, after all, she was more than happy to see her, especially when she expected she wouldn’t. 

Reaching out she put her hand over hers, feeling the warmth and softness of her hand, as well as the cold metal and stone of her jewelled rings. 

“How about I run you a nice warm bath with that lavender oil you gave me so all of today’s business can melt away?”, she suggested. 

“Stench of stupidity rather.”, Polly hissed. “Whenever I think I’ve seen everything with men, they manage to reveal some new idiocy I didn’t think possible.” Now she couldn’t hide her giggle, but Polly was dead serious. 

“I know I wasn’t keen on your girls at first.”, she mused, looking down at the two dogs, more companions than pets. 

“I think that is an understatement.”

She hated them with a passion at first, the noise they made, the fact that they shed hair, the feeling of their warm tongues as they licked her fingers and especially that they would more often than not jump in bed with her. 

Polly glared at her, but before long her eyes softened. 

“Well, I was wrong.”, she said, “The more I get to know people, the more I like dogs.”

Then, finally, a small smile spread on her painted red lips. “Who thought I’d say that in my old age?”

“Old age?”, she asked, almost shocked. “Don’t be ridiculous!”

As if to add her stamp of approval, Otrera grunted. 

End.

Thank you so much for requesting and participating in my celebration - I hope you liked what I wrote.

Thank you everyone for reading and as always, I hope you enjoyed and would love to hear your thoughts!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight  @lilyevanswhore  @polishcrazyone  @zablife  @just-a-harmless-patato  @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @cillmequick

#valentines1k #ask me to dance #polly gray #polly gray imagine #polly gray fanfic #polly gray x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine

[everythingelseisextra]

Work

Part Eleven: You're Like Me

Description: After a miscommunication, Tommy apologizes in the only way he knows how. Warnings: Language, self-hatred, Thomas being inept at communication Word Count: 2439 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @globetrotter28

You are brave. You insist on this in the cab, and you insist on this when you walk up the driveway, and you insist on this when you knock on the door. You have courage. You think this as you settle in the dining room, at the edge of the long wooden table, the high ceiling and portraits and pale yellow lamps and grandfather clock making you small, insignificant. You speak with strength. You tell yourself this as Tommy walks in, checks on you, and all you can do is nod when he asks if you’re ready. You are worthy of him. This one is the hardest for you to master, the hardest for you to hold onto. You remind yourself this as you hear him greet her, hear their footsteps in the hallway.

When she appears in the doorway, all drawn back shoulders, piercing eyes and impeccable fashion, you lose all sense of yourself. You stand and bow your head, as if a queen has appeared in Arrow House, which in a way, she has. Like Tommy’s, her eyes flick over you like a cat watching a bird, that intensity and deep rooted sense of predatory analysis. She walks right up to you, and you resist the urge to step back, to remove yourself from her aura. 

“Polly Gray.” A cigarette dangles from her lips and her outstretched hand is steady, stable, while the one you reach out to shake with shakes slightly. When you don’t respond with your name, her thin smile widens slightly and she tilts her head. “And you are?”

You open your mouth to speak, to give her something, anything, and nothing comes out. Frustrated and embarrassed, you look to Tommy for help, but he gives the slight shake of his head, barely moving it. You’re on your own. 

Polly glances back at him, amusement in her sharp brown eyes. “Does she talk?”

“When she wants to.” His answer is immediate. His gaze flickers between the two of you, so neutral that you can’t read what he thinks, whether there’s shame in those deep blue eyes. Whether he regrets choosing you, out of all the women in Birmingham and England and Warwickshire. 

“Now would certainly be the time.” She looks back at you, expectant. “Have you not got anything to say for yourself?”

You bite your lip, gaze still on the ground beneath you, desperately wanting to speak, to be strong, to be the person you want to become. You know you can, know you’re capable, but your voice gets stuck and your heart freezes and your lungs stop working and suddenly you’re frozen in a panic you feel in your body but not in your mind. 

“I think speaking is a base-level necessity, Thomas.” She turns and starts the long walk out of the room, slowing as she passes him. “You could do better.”

“You don’t even know me.” You step forward, dragging your gaze off the ground to stare at the back of her head. She’s paused, listening as your cracked and clenched voice reaches her. “You have no idea what my life has looked like, and you decide that I’m not good enough just because I can’t always get the words out?”

She chuckles and turns to face you, that reserved smile back on her lips. “That’s more like it.” 

Your brow furrows. “Forgive me if I’m not as thrilled as you are.”

“Tommy told me you’d take some convincing. Worth the work, he said.” She moves back towards you, slow, languid, a panther pacing.

“Did he, now?” You shoot a look at him, and find his eyes away from you. “You planned this, did you?” 

He takes a drag from his cigarette, gaze still pointedly elsewhere. “Had to. Only way to get you talking.” 

“I see.” Your voice grows tight. “Was I all you expected, then, Mrs. Gray? Do I meet your expectations?” 

“It’s Polly.” Her smile stays, almost threatening in its own right, proof that no matter what you say, you will not shake the ground she stands on. “You don’t need to be like that. Tommy’s been needing a good woman on his arm. Glad to see he’s found one, after how the last one worked out.”

You laugh humorlessly. It’s supposed to be a compliment, you know this, but Polly also must know that any intelligent woman wants to be more than an ornament on a man’s arm, a trophy for him to parade. She underestimates you, views you as another pretty face, and you don’t know how to prove her otherwise. She’s not to be taken at face value, either. The Shelby’s, the whole lot of them, hide beneath a facade. Arthur’s is brute strength, John’s is humor, Tommy’s is intensity, and Polly’s is charm. Ada seems to be the only exception. 

“I think I do need to be like that, actually.” You cross your arms, fingers playing at the shirt you wear. “I’m stepping from one dangerous world to another. I’d rather keep my guard up, thanks.” 

“Danger comes from wanting more than what you have.” She glances at Tommy, quick and sweeping. “I doubt you’ll do that.” 

You’re at a loss for words. How do you explain to her that you never had the privilege of wanting more? How do you explain that you’re stuck as a child learning to crawl, and you can’t lift your head to see that others can walk? Her words point towards Tommy but squash you at the same time, making you simple and lesser.

“This is wanting more.” You look down. “This is more than I’ve ever had.” 

Your vulnerability earns you silence. You think that, in their world, no one wants to admit that they’ve been hurt, that they’ve been on the ground looking up at the sky, wishing they could fly like the birds. No one wants to admit that they’re human. And you just did exactly that. After a moment, you look up at them, afraid of what you’ll see but even more afraid of what you might miss. 

Polly’s eyes lock onto Thomas’. Quiet communication flows between them, something so quick that you can’t follow. Within a couple seconds, Tommy gives her a subtle nod, and she sighs. Her eyes shift back to you, searching your face for something. You swallow hard. Keep your head up, your shoulders back. Meet her eyes and let her peer into you. 

“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” she says to you, her tone softer than before, more welcoming. 

“I do.” You think it might be a lie. You think you’re stepping into a storm that you’ve never weathered before, thinking that you can save yourself while battling the wind.  

“And you.” She turns to face Tom again. “I hope you tell her what you’re doing.”

“I do.” His eyes flick to yours, and you immediately look away. You don’t feel warm towards him at the moment, don’t feel like allowing him the privilege of silent connection. 

“Alright.” She smiles faintly at you, then turns to start her walk out of the room. “Then my job here is done. See you at the meeting, Tom.” 

You watch her go, your heart in your throat. You close your eyes and fall into a brief fantasy where everything is simple and everything is good. In this world you aren’t battered or bruised, aren’t scarred or scared, and you’re brave enough to speak without being manipulated to do so. In this world you know that his ‘I do’ was not a lie like yours. In this dream you hold a knife and your hand does not shake when you lift it.

Tommy clears his throat and you open your eyes and the world of your creation disappears, and you’re left with the coldness of the dining room, the emptiness of the fifty seats, all but one unoccupied. You sit back down and place your head in your hands, your elbows on your knees. 

“Thomas,” you say, a little hesitant, a little scared. Now that Polly is gone, now that your own mask has dropped, there’s hollowness to your chest and a strange pulling sensation on your eyes, like you haven’t slept in days. “Am I just… work to you?” 

He stays where he is, leaning against the wall to your right, his suit jacket in one hand and his cigarette in the other. As usual, he seems to be searching for something in your expression, eyes observing the subtle changes in your face like one would study a newly-discovered animal. His jaw works slightly and he looks away. “Sometimes you are. Sometimes you aren’t.” 

You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers pulling at each other until they hurt, then relaxing. “Oh.”

“Everything’s fucking work.” He gestures vaguely, voice too tense to be calm but too casual to be conflict.

“I’m not supposed to be work,” you say quietly. “I’m not supposed to be part of that.” 

He pauses, dropping his arm with the cigarette to his side and furrowing his brow slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but you stand and speak before he can. 

“I need to get to the horses. I better go.” You start for the door, half hoping he’ll follow you, try to convince you to stay, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, watching you go in silence, his brow still furrowed in that strange, almost confused expression. 

You work in the orange hour of the evening, sweating and thirsty and hungry and ignoring all of it. Work, work, work, all of it a reminder that you yourself take up too much energy, that you’re a burden on those around you. You squint in the falling light and convince yourself that the extra liquid in your eyes comes from the dryness of the coming cold. 

You thought that, maybe, he’d tolerate you. That his lying and stealing and cheating and all the crime that creep through his bones would balance you out. That all the pent-up anger and vulnerability and broken promises and the gentleness of your touch would make up for the fact that it was you he was looking at, you he was pursuing. You didn’t want to be saved, you wanted to feel worthy of being saved. 

You’re a chore. You’re work. 

You retire to your house long after the sun has set, wiping the sweat from your brow and skipping the bath to crawl into bed. You don’t close your eyes. Staring out at the stars in the sky, wondering whether you’ll ever be small enough to fit into someone’s life. You’re a broken thing, and yet, you stare out at the sky like you did when you were a child, wanting to touch the stars even if they burned you. 

A few hours later, the clattering of machinery and the steady pound of horse hooves outside your house disturbs your stupor. You sit up in bed, trying to see through the haze of night. Squinting, the shape of a horse-drawn carriage comes vaguely into view. You catapult out of bed, pulling clothes on haphazardly, and your bare feet patter down on the cold wooden floor as you make your way to the kitchen. You unlock a drawer, open it, and pull out a gun, ready to defend yourself, unwilling to be a victim in your own home. 

You rush out into the night, and freezing air hits your face. You’re not dressed for the cold, wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt and pants. You hold the gun up, aiming carefully at the carriage from the doorstep, waiting for someone to draw a bead on. 

“Put the gun down.” Tommy’s voice calls from the carriage. You do as he says, stepping back into your house to place it back in its drawer. When you come back out, your eyes fall on a gleaming white horse, elegant and seemingly glowing in the night. 

“What the fuck?” You step down onto the driveway, slowly approaching Tommy, who holds the horse’s lead rope loosely, allowing him to hold his head up high, staring out into the darkness. 

“You didn’t get a horse from the track.” His quiet, irritatingly calm voice answers your question smoothly. “Figured you could use someone helping you.” 

“Tommy.” Conflicting thoughts bounce through your skull. You don’t want to see him, not after what he said, but he’s brought you a horse all the way from the racetrack, something that usually costs you a few months worth of savings. You open your mouth, then close it and shake your head, not knowing what to say. 

“His track name is ‘Watch Me Forever.’” He reaches out a hand to stroke the stallion’s neck. “Needs a barn name.” 

“This is the gray you liked. The one with the broken leg.”

“Paid to have it fixed. A few months of recovery and he’ll be ready.” 

“Tommy.” You resist the urge to punch his chest. “You can’t just do that!”

“Why not?”

“Now I’m— I’m in debt to you.” You shake your head. “You can’t do this.”

The stallion’s neck arches and he reaches down his soft pink nose to sniff at you, ears forward, eyes soft. Tommy is quiet for a moment, and all that’s heard between you is the warm breath of the horse. 

When he speaks, it’s not the usual, well thought out, precisely planned phrasing. It’s awkward and rambling and, you have to admit, endearing. “Gentling a horse is work. It’s not easy. Teaches you more about yourself than it does about the damn horse. Makes you a better person; more patient, kinder. It’s— It’s work, but if I could choose between that and anything else, I’d choose the horse every fucking time. Does this make any sense?” 

You stare at him, and a weight lifts off of you. “Yes. I think it does.” 

His eyes search your face, soft and beseeching. “You understand me?” 

“Thank you for explaining what you meant, Tom. I forgive you. I—” You hold back the cliches bubbling in your throat, trying to push you to say something too soon, too recklessly. “I understand you.” 

He nods, looking as relieved as you feel. His eyes turn back to the stallion, his posture straightening, his expression moving back to something harsher, more businessman-like.  “What will you call him, then?”

“I think… I think Iris is good.” You stroke his soft nose, looking at his eyes, one blue, one brown

“That’s a woman’s name.” 

“It’s a fucking flower, Tom. Flowers don’t have gender.”

He shrugs. “Iris it is, then. Iris it is.”

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaker blinders fandom #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #polly gray #polly shelby

[nyasiaaaaa]

In the Bleak Mid-Winter

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )

Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 

Word count: 5k

Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2

A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5

********************

It's been a year. 

A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 

You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 

You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 

It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 

You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 

You barely eat, you barely sleep. 

When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 

She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 

These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 

And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 

You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 

You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.

But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 

You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 

"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.

They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 

You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 

You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 

"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.

He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 

"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.

"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 

"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 

"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 

"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 

He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 

You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 

"They killed John." 

"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 

"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked

He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 

"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."

Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 

He was hurting. 

You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 

"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away

Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 

"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 

"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.

You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.

"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 

He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 

"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 

You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—

You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 

Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 

You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 

It's too late. 

You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 

Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 

It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 

You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 

You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.

"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 

You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 

"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 

"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 

"Thank you, curly." 

They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 

"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.

 So you just nodded your head, ok. 

Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 

"What's her name," he asks. 

"Ruby" 

"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 

You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 

You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 

The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 

 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 

So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.

************************

For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 

You were back in Birmingham. 

Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 

 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  

"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 

"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 

You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 

"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 

"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."

"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 

Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 

"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.

The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 

"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 

"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 

Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 

He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 

"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 

He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 

You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."

"Yeah" 

"Is it safe?" 

"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 

"And where will you be?" 

"Out" 

"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 

Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 

"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.

"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 

"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 

Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 

Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 

Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 

"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 

"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 

"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 

Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 

You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 

"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.

"When I'm finished" 

"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 

He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 

"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 

You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 

"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 

Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said

"You already did love." 

He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 

You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 

You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 

You scream.

You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 

How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 

Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 

You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 

You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 

As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 

You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 

You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 

You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 

You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 

You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 

After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 

That boy sleeps wild.

***********************

You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 

The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 

You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.

"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 

"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 

"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.

"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 

"Baby?"

"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 

"Who that" 

You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 

He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 

"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.

"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 

You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 

You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 

"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.

"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 

Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 

You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 

He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 

You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"

He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 

He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 

After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 

Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.

"Are you my new ma" 

The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 

As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 

You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 

Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 

You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 

"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 

"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 

He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 

You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 

By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 

After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?

.

.

.

You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.

You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 

You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.

You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 

You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.

You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 

She's not there. 

You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 

You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.

Where is she?

How could I not hear someone take her? 

When did I get up here? 

.

.

.

Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?

Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 

Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 

She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 

You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 

As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.

That this is just for now and that

Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 

***********************

Tag list:

@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890

I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.

P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #michael gray #polly gray #ada shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x y/n