#tommy shelby modern au

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / Chapter Ten

a peaky blinders Modern AU balletcore story?

Chapter List

Previous Chapter (in case u missed it bc tumblr is being weird)

John

"Don't like this John," hummed Esme where she sat in the bedroom window, her hair wild and long, trailing down her back her curls knotting down to her lower back, brushing over her bare thighs when she turned to look at me over her shoulder. She'd been up half the night with the baby and now that the littlen had finally settled down she was sitting alone watching the dark garden, wearing one of my tshirts, one which had been worn to death and had grown with her baby belly throughout her last pregnancy. She still wore it now, when it was late and she couldn't sleep. She'd taken to sitting in that window all through the night, starring out at the garden like a caged bird, smoking her cigarettes one by one.

"I know love," I sighed stepping up behind her, letting my hands hold her shoudlers, thumbs rubbing over the bones. "Won't be for long, we'll go back to the farm soon..."

"Thats what you say," she said turning back to the garden with the dark shadowy eyes of a girl. A girl pining. Which is what I knew she was. She was restless and she had been for a long time, long before this shit with the Italians. I'd been trying my best on the farm, trying to help her feel free, connected to the earth. I humoured her when she walked out in the garden barefoot, curling her toes into the muddy vegetable patches when it rained. I'd promised her we'd travel, that we'd pack up and take the kids with us, and I'd meant to keep that promise. But now there were other shadows looming over us, and not just over me and her but the whole family. And keeping my promise to Esme would mean betraying my brothers and sisters.

I couldn't even toy with the idea. Of course sometimes the way Tommy was made me want to say fuck it and leave, but the rest of them, no. I couldn't leave Ada and the twins. Couldnt abandon Arthur who needed the family to stay together more than any of us.

And even Tommy, at the end of the day, no matter how cruel he could be, how unfeeling, he was still my big brother. And he wasn't as selfish as he seemed, it just takes a lot to lead a family, especially one like ours. He was just doing his best to be the person steering our battered ship.

"We're never leaving here," Esme said, her voice low and dark and gloomy like the empty garden at night. That expanse of lawn, so tame. That wall of trees just that, a wall that hedged us all in. Marked out our bit of land and kept it ours. A perimeter that  Esme understood, kept her caged.

That was why she spent her evenings starring out at it with dark eyes and a heavy heart. Smoking her cigarettes. Making me feel all kinds of guilt and inadequacy.

"We will flower, just as soon as this is all over, gonna take you and the littlens far away," I said leaning over her, tilting her head right back so that i could kiss her from above. I meant it, in my heart when I said it I meant it but we were neither of us naive and so we both found ourselves looking out at the garden then, whistful and doomed.

This wasn't going to be over quickly. Might never be over at all.

The house was quiet but only just and only for now, the twins had gone to bed, too shaken up for my liking - and I felt guilty for that because I'd aided in the shaking - but Arthur hadn't returned with Ada and I knew that she had all the fight of little Sylvie and all the zeal of having grown up in a shithole like small heath. That is to say I knew she wouldn't be affraid to tell Tommy exactly what she thought of him. How much of a cunt she thought he was.

When our mother had died Tommy had stepped up for the girls because they were only small and suddenly left without a mother or a father to care for them. He'd tried to be that father figure to the best of his ability, which was limited because he'd never really had a sturdy father figure himself. As a result the girls had wound up with this fear of him, that fear only a father can instill. In healthy relationships its known as respect but theirs was a distant and troubled relationship and so fear was the only way of describing it. Ada hadn't had that, didn't fear him and probably wouldn't ever. So I knew that when she got here she'd do the shouting and the fighting for all three of them. Wouldn't give a fuck that it was 4 in the morning and the littluns were in bed, that I was in bed, only just managing to drift off. Would blame me for that, would tell me it straight.

"Ada will stay," said Esme then, "she's not stupid she knows whats at risk..."

"Yeah," I sighed, "its the girls ain't it," I said, "gonna be trouble..." I said and she smirked as if to say 'you don't know the half of it' but I did because every step of the way we'd done everything wrong. We'd sent them away, let them grow up wild in some far away city, in a boarding school that taught them how to lie and cheat their way to the top, taught them they could have everything they wanted if they were cut throat and selfish, if they thought only about where they were trying to go and took wild risks, pushed themselves too far.

And it was obvious looking at Sylvie, that the both of them had taken on board everything that theyd been taught. That they weren't affraid to push themselves too far, test their limits. That they didn't mind their own safety when it came to taking risks to get what they wanted.

And they'd take these risks because we'd always tried to keep them sheltered, always tried to keep them seperate. The twins had never seen their brothers with bullets in their chests, they'd never seen the men we'd snatched from wives and children. They didn't really know what we did with the bodies. They didn't know about the arms severed, the threats sent. They didn't know the things we'd done to our enemies, they thought our wars were all money and talk but they were usually always retaliation to meetings gone sour, deals fucked up, families we'd made the mistake of only half slaughtering.

And because they didn't know any of those things, then they could never really understand what they were risking, what our enemies would do to them, how they would be used, how they'd be tortured.

It wasn't even a year passed since our Aunt Pol had narrowly escaped death at the hands of the Changretta's. They'd had her neck in a noose, left her balanced on her tip toes for days, a sinister act of torture we were all certain had tipped her over the morbid edge she'd been teetering on for years. They'd told her they had all of us, tricked her into believing that whilst she stood their desperately trying to keep her balance, feeling the strain of the noose against her neck every time she faltered, that each of us was fighting for our lives in an equally painful way.

No one knew, not even her, how she'd actually managed to escape. But it hadn't been any of us who had cut her down. Tommy said she must have done it, must have worked out a way to cut the bonds on her hands, to sever the rope around her neck. Polly insisted that it hadn't been. That it had been the ghost of her mother, that now she'd spent several days with death hovering around her, waiting for her muscles to spazm and falter, she could see death all the time. That she could hear the voices of those past, that she could see their shadows lingering around the living.

And though it all seemed a little mellodramatic to me, seemded like rot to Arthur, I could tell Tommy empathised with the darkness. And we couldn't laugh her off because of what she'd gone through. The days of pain, her muscles sore to burning, her adrenaline savaging her body so that when she finally returned home she was a shell of her former self. Something changed behind her eyes.

That was the darkness our fens were risking every time they fought back against Tommy. If they disobeyed him, if we couldn't keep them here, safe with us, well, thered be no ghosts that came to save them.

"Sylvies got her brothers temper," said Esme, her strange impersonal judgements reminding me that they'd never really met. That the wedding had been the first and last time they'd seen one another. So it was all the more strange, all the more uncomfortable.

"Aye but which brother..." I smirked making her laugh, making her dark brooding eyes light up for a moment as she shook her head.

"Well," she let her smirk linger, her dimple etched into her expression so that she appeared impish in the pale nights light, "ain't arthurs is it..."

"Shes nothin like Tommy," I said shaking my head, refusing to believe that that could be true, refusing to believe that there was anything about my brother that could possibly have been passed onto little Sylvia who had always been so wild and sweet.

"They're like our mum," I said trying to reiterate my point. Trying to prove Esme's observation wrong, "I guess you wouldn't see that yknow," I shrugged turning away from the window, pulling my shirt over my head, knowing there was no point trying to get to sleep. Lying down anyway and asked her to lie down with me. For want of nothing else to do.

"Come on love, can't sit in that window all night you'll get cold..."

"What and I spose you're gonna keep me warm?" she asked turning with that clever little smirk, outsmarting me again.

"Aye," I said with a cheeky caught out grin of my own, "Somet like that aye..." I chuckled opening my arms out for her, letting her crawl across the bed to me, that too bed tshirt hanging from her soft curves as she moved feline and feminine over covers to come curl up in my arms.

I kissed her hair and let my hand trail over her thigh, fingers teasing a line up to the hem of her underwear. I knew how to ease her troubled mood, even now when her eyes were dark and I could see that she was worrying.

So we didn't get any sleep, and when Arthur returned with Ada and Karl, their voices ricochetting down the corridors, their disturbance caught me and Esme off guard. Her beanth me, her thighs trembling on each side of my neck as I ground my hips against her hips a little harder than before, burying myself deep inside her.

We'd been close when that front door had slammed and Karl had woken, started crying but the moment Ada's sharp words began tumbling vitriolic and shattering the silent house, we knew it was over.

"Fuck sake," whined Esme burying her face into my neck, clutching at me still, her body clinging tight to mine. She didn't want to let go and I didn't want to pull out and away from her but I knew that any second now Ada would be hammering her fist on that bedroom door demanding to drag me into the battle.

I laughed, let my grin linger because there was nothing else I could do. Just had to keep smirking through it and appreciate the humour of it all, forty fuckin one years old and still being cockblocked by my big sister.

So I accepted my fate, kissing Esme on the nose as I pulled out and she whimpered again. Smirking at her sweetness because it wasn't a side to her that came out very often. Had never been a side she liked to show. One it had taken me a long time to find hidden and secret beneath all those rough and wild layers of defense.

"To be continued," I said pecking her cheek, trailing teasing kisses down her body, leaving one between her legs that made her whine and then push me away, kicking at me playfully as she let out a dissatisfied sigh.

"Fuck sake John," she groaned as she pushed herself up and wrapped the covers around her. "I'm going to sleep, better not wake me up when you get back..." she threatened, her smouldering eyes teasing me, her sullen lips leaving me longing to kiss her again, push her buttons just a little more.

"Oh you'll be awake lass," I grinned, "Ada'll make sure of that..."

And Ada did make sure of that. She'd no patience because despite what he said, Arthur had done nothing to calm her on the journey home and even then, when I came stumbling into the corridor tugging my tshirt over my head, laughing at the drama of it all, Arthur was watching her despairing and nervous.

"Fuckin hell Ada some of us are tryna sleep here, its 4 in the fuckin mornin..." I said still chuckling, knowimg that I was risking her temper and carrying on anyway. I was her little brother afterall, I could get away with it if I tried.

"Perhaps you'd be having an easier night if you didn't always bend over backwards to accommodate our canniving pig of a brother," she said sharply, standing in the hallway lit up by the the little light coming in through the front door and the windows in the cieling.

She looked pale as a ghost and just as cold and I didn't know what to say to her because she wasn't wrong. Wasn't right either. I wouldn't have had an easier night because Tommy would have killed me and then he'd have sent someone else, someone like Isaiah, and then my ghost would have been haunting the halls all eternity with the guilt of having left my little sisters in the hands of someone else.

It wasn't that I wouldn't have trusted Isaiah with my sisters, it was that really when it came down to it, I didn't trust anyone with them. Not even my brothers. Not to do things right anyway.

If Arthur had gone for them he'd have lost his temper because he'd have been scared, because he'd have been paranoid that they didn't respect him, because he'd have been angry at himself for not being able to do as Tommy had asked. For not being the kind of brother his little baby sisters would trust.

If Tommy had gone, then the speech which had brought Sonya to petrified tears in the office that night, would have been given much sooner, with no care for the audience, no care for who was watching, recording or making notes. He'd have lost his temper because he'd have realised they only feared him, didn't respect him. And they were more delicate than either of them liked to let on. Sonya and Sylvia had always been a little less Shelby like our father. Much more like their mother than anyone wanted to admit.

I had noticed it in Sylvia straight away. The thin quality, that washed out pale tone, the greyish brown which shadowed her eyes, which lingered and left her looking tired. Sonya had hidden it better but I'd still seen it there. They were both just so much smaller than they should have been but I knew that if I mentioned it to my brothers they'd tell me I worried too much, that they were tougher than I gave them credit for.

"Ada love come on now eh its late, you'll wake the twins..." said Arthur, all sheepish and tired, one hand on the back of his neck, his features flushed, embarassed to be approaching 50 and still unable to quell his sisters temper. If there was one thing you could say about Ada it was that she'd always been the one to put us in our place. Humble us when we let our position and our reputation get to our heads.

"You care for their wellbeing so much then why in gods name would you drag em back to this fuckin place?" and then she sighed and shook her head, "fuckin go to bed arthur it aint you I need to speak to..."

"Tommys in his..." I trailed off when my eyes met my brothers down the hall, he was walking slowly, a shadow approaching, a cigarette unlit hanging between his lips.

"Ada love," he said making her jump but doing nothing to hush her or shake her determination. "Good to see you made it up safe an sound..." and when I saw his patronising little smile I resigned myself to a sleepless night and a long morning of achey heads and sore throats. Tension bristling.

It was exactly what we got, but not what we didn't deserve.

🔪🦢

"She won't forgive you you know..." said Polly the next morning when it was only myself and her left in the dining room.

Sylvie had left with an angry static buzzing all about her, Tommy had sent her to fetch Sonya and, in his usual tactless charm, had said something so patronising that I was surprised our Fen hadn't torn his head from his neck right in front of us.

"No," I said with a sad smirk, "Fens right, gonna fuck Sonyas whole career up ain't it, poor lass must fuckin hate us..." but when I said it Pol just chuckled and shook her head.

"I wasn't talking about Sonya," she said lighting up her cigarette and drawing in a long leisurely inhale, "Sonya knows she can't go back, I don't even think she's going to put up a fight..."

"Its Sonya who's losing her job not Sylvia," I shrugged a little confused, not understanding when Polly laughed.

"Ha," she said, "stupid lads the lot of you..." she turned her head from me, looking across the dining room and out the window at the gardens where the mist was just beginning to thin.

"What?" I couldn't keep the confusion off my face despite wanting to hide it, I hated it when she made me feel stupid like that, perhaps I deserved it, perhaps I was as daft as she said. Even so I didn't like the fact being highlighted so bluntly.

"Since their mother died those two girls have had only eachother... Their big brothers weren't there were they? In London? Learnt to look after one another didn't they..."

It was painful to hear it from her, our Aunt Pol who has always been the matriarch, the one who looked after us all, the one we all looked up to. She it was painful to hear her tell it so straight, how we'd let them down. How we'd abandoned them. Left two little girls down south on their own, fending for themselves among strangers.

"I should never have let him do that," said Polly then, her voice as dark and gravelly as her eyes, that harsh kind of doom lingering around her like a shadow. One of those auras she claimed to be able to see around people these days.

"When our Tom puts his mind to somet..." I started only to trail off, only to remember that none of us had really fought against it, "we all believed it was for the best..."

"Fools," murmured Pol sucking in another drag on her cigarette, watching the cloud of smoke linger and then disperse just in front of her, "the lot of us."

#peaky blinders imagines #Trouble #tommy shelby modern au #peaky blinders modern au #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders x oc #Alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine

[ryuzakemo128]

I Will Never Die

A/N: In order to give more character Red, I would like it if you could go through these things here in this post. Just so I can get an idea of what you want Red to be in the Future.

Pairing: Modern Thomas Shelby x Red (Female Reader)

Prompt List: Part One / Part Two / Part Three

Prompt: “Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me”

Requested?: No.

Song: I will Never Die By Delta Rae

Old heat of a raging fire Come and light my eyes Summer's kiss to electric wire But I'll never die

Red had taken Thomas out of the room. Whoever kicked down her office doors knew they’d be there. Whoever wanted to kill both Thomas and Red tried to ensure they knew they were coming. Red knew the Colombian mafia wouldn’t let her get away with killing their boss’s wife.

“These Colombian people don’t have the sense of humour I like.” Red says to Thomas, causing him to laugh a little.

Red smirked as one man left an opening wide enough for her to get Thomas out of there.

“One of us needs to leave in order to get backup. You’re hurt and you need medical attention. I need to get you a way to get help without them noticing that we have left.”

“I’m not leaving without you Red,” Thomas stated clinging on her arm, “I won’t let you do this on your own. Not since you have endured the passing of your friend Galina,”

“This is the only chance we have to make sure you stay alive,” Red whispered to him, “Charlie and Ruby need you to be there, I’ll find you when I can alright?”

“Don’t leave me. Don’t you dare leave me” Thomas shouted as Red went to deal with the stragglers left behind.

"I'll find you Thomas!"

#Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders Fanfiction #Peaky Blinders Fanfic #Peaky Blinders Imagine #Peaky Blinders One Shot #thomas shelby #Tommy Shelby #Red (Female Reader) #Thomas Shelby x Red (Female Reader) #Tommy Shelby x Red (Female Reader) #Thomas Shelby au #Tommy Shelby au #Thomas Shelby Fanfiction #Thomas Shelby Fanfic #Tommy Shelby Fanfiction #Tommy Shelby Fanfic #Modern Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby Modern au #Tommy Shelby Modern au #Modern Tommy Shelby

[soleilceirinen]

Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?

Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.

A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist

Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats. 

At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch. 

Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.

Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.

The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time. 

From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases. 

You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.

"Cute my balls," he spat.

The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?" 

“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."

You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.

"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.

He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."

You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.

When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table. 

-

You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.

That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.

At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her. 

She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.

-

A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.

That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.

After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact. 

You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.

“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"

You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.

"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.

Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.

You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."

He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"

"I'm going to get some water."

Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.

"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"

He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"

You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"

His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.

"It depends".

"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also,  change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."

He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.

"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.

"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."

-

The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily. 

He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.

But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean. 

As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.

This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.

The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.

“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?" 

Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris. 

He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.

'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.

The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa. 

"Eat," he indicated authoritatively. 

He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.

Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.

When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."

Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.

"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"

"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat. 

"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see  I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"

You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.

Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window. 

He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.

After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal. 

-

When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body. 

Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.

Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction. 

Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.

The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.

"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.

The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"

It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.

The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.

-

At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.

You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love. 

Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream. 

You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x y/n #modern!tommy shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fluff #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders modern!au #modern!au #soleilceirinen writes

[whentommymetalfie]

Update: Chapter 11 is up

Tommy is not sure how he’s ended up here. On the surface it appears like a dream, the penthouse in Soho, the successful husband who never misses an opportunity to spoil him, a life full of expensive dinners and parties. But beneath the glimmering surface lies a darkness unlike anything else.

One late night in an overcrowded ER, he meets someone who finally sees him. And from that moment on, something changes.

Sequel to 'All for Nothing'

Pairings: Established Tommy/Luca, eventual Tommy/Alfie

Warnings: Domestic violence, emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, manipulation, eating disorders

#Tommy x alfie #peaky blinders fanfiction #Modern AU #tommy Shelby #alfie solomons #luca changretta #tommy x luca

[justrainandcoffee]

2017

"Like the old days" Alfie had said.

Meaning of "Let's do a road trip together. No GPS, no smartphones. Just maps, a compass and a camera to take pictures."

Tommy knew it was a bad idea. But...

They were in America. Their first trip together as a couple. Travelling in a rental car around the country didn't sound that bad at the beginning.

Alfie was driving because according to him, Tommy drove like a granny.

The first days were the best. It was autumn but the sun was still warm. They stopped in several places, enjoyed the landscapes and the mutual company. Very new relationship, their love was still pure.

Problems started the sixth day.

"Why don't you admit that you don't know how to read a map, sweetheart?"

Tommy frowned. "I always said that I don't know how to read a map, Alfie. You were very positive that I was going to learn soon."

Alfie pulled over and looked at his boyfriend "yes, well my bad. And now where are fucking lost."

"Because you didn't want to bring a GPS."

"No. They're annoying. Turn left, turn right... Fuck off."

"The best we can do it's to wait until a car pass and ask for help," Tommy said "Any ideas what to do in the meantime?"

Alfie smirked before kissing him, "Yeah. A few."

Alfie x Tommy masterlist.

#alfie solomons #tommy Shelby #moodboard #peaky blinders #modern au #tofie #Alfie x Tommy #sholomons #tommy x alfie #cillian murphy #tom hardy

[moral-terpitude]

Manic Monday

Did I need to start something new? No. Did I? Yes. Will there be more? Surely. At some point. (I get super annoyed by the manic Monday song when it comes on the radio, but it was the only good follow up I could think of to Quiet Sunday.) (Cause I liked this modern Shelby family bunches, but I feel like their life wouldn’t be without chaos after such a good day.)

[Masterlist]

Word Count: 1282

“Tom.” Your whisper was the only noise in the darkness, but a few minutes ago you’d been pulled from sleep by a commotion down stairs.

How Tommy hadn’t been woken up by the noise coming from somewhere off in the house was a mystery. You were usually the heavy sleeper, but Charlie was still off galavanting with Finn.

Hadn’t answered the phone. Hadn’t messaged.

Which meant you had spent most of the night staring at the ceiling before sleep finally took over.

You sighed, shaking him again, words coming out in a quick hiss, “Tommy, wake up.”

He took a deep breath as he turned to face you, blue eyes reading the worried expression on your face quickly, even in the lack of light.

“What’s going on, love?”

“Just something loud downstairs.”

He was out of bed in an instant, gun drawn from the bedside table and out the door before you could say much else.

You lay there for a few minutes before you heard a scuffle. Peeking out the bedroom door you saw quite the sight.

Charlie and Finn seemed equally pissed, wobbling as Tommy tried to support Charlie with help (or lack of) from his brother.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Finn!”

You pulled the robe around you tighter, a light jog over to take his place, bare feet padding across the wooden floor, to actually assist your husband.

Finn looked away, leaning against the bannister as the three of you made your way down the hall to Charlie’s room.

His blonde hair fell in his face as he tried to avoid Tommy’s gaze, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands.

“Feel like shit already, eh?”

“Dad,” Charlie groaned, that being the last you heard out of him before you made your way back to the landing.

“Downstairs.” You passed by him, not bothering to wait to make sure he listened, he knew better than to not follow, “Now.”

He grumbled, but followed behind you, knowing he was in for a good reaming.

“I can’t believe you,” he took the stairs two at a time to keep up with you as you stood in the entryway, fishing the pack of Marlboro lights out of your coat pocket, “it would be different if it was the first time, Finn—“

“C’mon, Y/N, he’s not a kid anymore—“

“Yes, Finn, he is!” You lit the cigarette, glancing up at the full moon and taking a long drag before toeing open the front door, “I know that your life, and the things you’ve all seen, was a lot different growing up, but he is fifteen!”

He looked away, slumping against the wall with a huff, arms crossed.

“Charlie is a good kid!”

“Finn!” Tommy’s voice bellowed down the stairs, preceding his presence (now dressed in more than just his underwear), and interrupted your tirade before you could continue.

You stayed in the door frame, blowing the smoke outside as Tommy rounded the corner. Anger taking the form of heat rising in your neck as you tried to take a deep breath and calm yourself.

“Was he into the fucking coke?”

Finn started to shake his head, glancing sideways at you before looking back at Tommy. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, words still a bit slurred, “I went off for a little bit. I think he’s just tanked.”

Tommy locked eyes with you, and unfortunately you mimicked Finn’s shrug as he huffed his way back up the stairs.

“He is a good kid,” you continued, discarding the cigarette but out into the gravel drive and lighting another before glancing up at the clock, hands pointed at 3:45, and running a hand through your hair, “and he has set himself up on a good path in school, his extracurriculars are all in order, and not that we need it but he is looking at one hell of a scholarship if he can keep his grades where they are. I know it’s summer,” you sighed, “but I can’t keep having you bring my boy—“

He scoffed, “That’s part of the fucking problem, Y/N! He’s a Shelby! He’s not your boy!”

His voice came out in a roar that immediately had you taken aback, heart trembling and sinking into your stomach before you caught his gaze.

Blinking twice, you took a deep, shuddering, breath, “Go the fuck upstairs and go to bed, Finn.”

“Y/N—“

“No. Don’t you dare try to fucking apologize to me now.”

Tears stung in the corner of your eyes as you brushed past him, smoke rolling along with you as you made your way through the hall and down into the kitchen.

The coffee maker hissed to life as you leaned on your elbows in front of it, swiping tears from under your eyes every 30 seconds or so.

He’s not your boy.

The words rang in your ears painfully as you heard approaching footsteps.

“Staying up?”

You sighed, turning and leaning against the counter, eyes roaming the white tiles all up the walls as you continued viscously chewing the inside of your lip and Tommy assed your state.

You had thought about finding the bag of crisps when you went down there, but by the time the words actually sank in, you realized nothing sounded good anymore.

“Yeah, I figured,” you sniffled, turning away to pull two cups out of the cupboards, “I have a lot to catch up on, I need to find vendors and source donations for that benefit, the women’s shelter—“

“Love, what happened?”

Your shoulders relaxed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, featherlight kisses pressed into the crook of your neck.

Sometimes you hated that he knew what made you tick.

A long sigh passed between your lips, weighing your words before you spoke.

“Hm?” He prodded, rocking you both back and forth as you shrugged.

“Just another reminder of—“ that I’m not able to hold a candle to your dead wife? No, there was no good that was going to come from the rest of that sentence. Instead, you shook your head, stopping the sentence, pouring coffee in both of the cups, “I know I’m not Charlie’s mother—“

“Who said?”

“Tommy,” you shrugged him off of you, turning to face him, safe and close in the space between him and the counter, “I just, for once, wish what goes on in our household could stay in our little bubble.”

He tried to search your face for the answer to his question as you relinquished one of the mugs to him. You knew you probably weren’t making sense.

“Finn, reminded me, when I was giving him hell, that Charlie isn’t my boy.” You nodded.

“He’s just pissed out of his mind, hurling his guts into the bowl in the hall bathroom right now.”

“Like that’s an excuse.” You shot back, heading to leave the kitchen as he reached for you again.

“No,” you shook your head, picking the still burning cigarette off the tea saucer you’d grabbed from the sink, “you’re not going to manage to fuck your way out of that one. I know I’m not a Shelby by blood, but god damn Tommy, you always manage to explain away their shit and I’m getting sick of it.”

You shook your head, letting the cigarette hang from your mouth like he would usually do while he worked.

“We even had a good day today, too.”

You heard the whispered “fuck” as you meandered your way through the house, slamming the heavy wooden door to your office behind you.

The only person you felt bad that it might have woken woken up was Frances. Bless her.

She needed a raise for putting up with all of you.

#tommy shelby x yn #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #modern thomas shelby #modern!tommy #modern!tommy shelby #modern day au

[sneakyblinders]

superstition - modern!tommy shelby x ofc

A/N: hello! this is something i've had brewing in my mind for quite some time! Modern!Tommy Shelby x ofc, Amandine. Based in southeast Louisiana. (If you ever have the opportunity to go... please take it. It's one of the best places on earth.) If you're wanting some ambiance, or getting the vibe of the story... take a listen to this ambiance music on Youtube! warnings: language, cheating, sexual themes. not canon. an au.

1998–Southeast Louisiana

“You know what you’re getting yourself into, don’t you, Thomas?” Polly asked a pink cheeked teenage Tommy as he stumbled in the backdoor, tucking his shirt back into his pants. 

He licked his lips, sweat running down his back. “What do you mean?” he asked. 

“That girl, Tommy,” she paused. The ceiling fan whirred, kicking away the leftover smells from dinner. The heat. “Amandine,” Polly shuddered. “Her family is dangerous. Her grandmere is a seer, you know.” 

Tommy nodded. He did know. “I love her, Pol,” he said, straightening his back. 

Polly chuckled. “You’ll see what someone like Amandine Theiriot does with love.” 

2011–Southeast Louisiana

The restaurant bustled. Dishwashers were running furiously, line cooks and waiters bickered over a particularly fussy patron. Amandine rolled her eyes. The heat was overwhelming. July in Louisiana was brutally unbearable, and a heatwave made going into the kitchen every day damn near impossible. 

“Dine!” Gio, the sous chef called out to her. “Dine, there’s somebody here fer ya!” 

Her eyes wandered tiredly to the man in the corner. Her man. “Tommy?” she breathed quietly. So quietly she wasn’t sure if anybody but herself heard her. 

He didn’t smile at her. All joy was gone from his eyes. His lips were in a firm line, hands in his jean pockets, his military backpack slung over one shoulder. The kitchen staff moved out of Amandine’s way as she made her way to Tommy, moving in a trance-like pattern. 

“You’re home?” she asked. He smelled like the bayou. Faintly like aftershave. Smoke and whiskey. He’d not come directly here. 

“Here I stand,” he drawled, the deep baritone of his voice sending a chill down her spine like only he could. 

“I waited,” she said gently as desire filled his eyes. 

“I see,” he responded as she reached out to touch his cheek–touch a scar she hadn’t seen before. “Let’s go home, baby,” he said, her touch filling him with the deepest sense of belonging he’d felt in nearly eight years. 

The staff mumbled under their breath as their head chef walked out for the night, dinner tickets be damned. 

Amandine sensed a darkness in Tommy’s spirit. A darkness that wasn’t there before the war. Before Iraq. She guessed too many tours would do that to a person. Her heart felt heavy as he drove them through the windy southeast Louisiana streets, back to their once shared home. Before the war separated them. He didn’t speak. Neither did she. 

The bayou, their home, was dark. There weren’t too many streetlights on these two lane roads leading them to their home. The home they’d purchased at eighteen and nineteen before the world went upside down. 

Tommy drove his truck, the truck Amandine had been using the last seven years, up their gravel driveway, the motion sensor lights at the top of their home kicking on. It looked a little cleaner than when he had last seen it seven years ago. 

The garage was the entire bottom floor, two flights of stairs leading to the house above. In the swamp, a house on stilts, or raised houses, are normal to aid in air circulation and prevent flood damage when the inevitable hurricanes blasted through the swamp. Tommy tiredly dragged his legs up the steps, Amandine following behind him. 

He fumbled with his keys, finding the right one for the front door and unlocked it, shocked when he saw the difference in the house. “You fixed it up?” 

She smiled softly. “Yeah,” she looked at him nervously. “Daddy and Grandpere and the boys helped. Thought you might like it,” she said. 

He let his dusty backpack fall to the floor with a thud, closing and locking the door behind them before he pushed her up against the door, crashing his lips to hers. 

It was a mess of clothes and sloppy kisses, but they made their way to the bedroom where they devoured one another. 

The next morning they woke up next to each other for the first time in seven years. An uncomfortable silence had fallen between the two of them the night before, causing them to fall asleep with their backs to one another. Something had shifted–something had changed. 

“So,” Amandine began the next morning, sun streaming in through the slats of the blinds. “Who was she?” she asked. 

“Who was he?” Tommy asked, reaching for a cigarette on his nightstand. 

“I’ll tell you if you tell me,” she said, sitting up in bed, leaning against the headboard. 

“Deal,” he said nonchalantly, exhaling smoke. 

“Vincent Camponi,” she said. She could faintly see his jaw twitch in anger. 

“Grace Burgess,” he said, mind wandering to the blond he fell in love with at war. The one who had almost cost him his life. 

“Will you go to her?” Amandine asked. 

“Can’t,” he said, not meeting her eyes. “The curse,” he exhaled. “The bond,” he said, holding up his palm, the faint scar from where they’d joined themselves together in Gypsy tradition so many years ago. 

The curse he referred to, was also cast that night they made their vow. That if anything should separate them, they would be dually cursed for the rest of their days. Bad luck following. Their children would be cursed. Their families would be destined for doom. Their businesses would decline and their money would disappear. 

“Where’s Della?” he asked to change the subject. 

“With Mama and Daddy,” Amandine said. 

“Let’s go get her. No sense in keeping us all apart for any longer than we have to, hm?” he said, stubbing out his cigarette and walking to the shower. 

“Yeah,” Amandine said softly. “No sense in that.” 

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x amandine #louisiana au #peaky fookin blinders #peakywomen #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x ofc #thomas shelby #sneakyblinders #modern!tommy shelby #modern!tommyshelby x ofc

[madamebaggio]

Notes: Well... It's been quite a while here... Again.

Previously...

***

Chapter 3

Sansa had been raised to be one thing and one thing only: a lady.

Nowadays the term might be used in different ways across the globe, but Sansa was old money, old blood and old status. To her being a lady meant exactly what it’d meant two hundred years ago.

Or it had meant at some point.

The Starks were one of the few families with noble blood to not only survive but persistently thrive through the centuries. While many of those old families had lost money and land, they’d not only kept it all, but they kept the prestige and the respect related to their names.

Sansa could name ancestors who’d fought in many a war for King and country. Her family had been proud of their name and history, and so had she.

Until it all came crashing down.

Now she was the last Stark and she was a criminal.

Her father and mother would be appalled were they alive, but then again… They weren’t, so there was that.

Sansa hadn’t planned on becoming a criminal. If such a thing could actually be planned.

Sansa was her mother’s pride and joy from a young age and she shone as the dutiful daughter. She had the perfect manners, grades and friends. She had wanted to be like the ladies of before, the ones who really knew what the term meant, like her mother.

She’d been a spoiled brat, but it’d been the only life she’d known then. The years changed that, and by the time she was 23 she was already working for a criminal organization.

She was 26 when she became its leader.

No, it hadn’t been the plan, but it was what she had left and she was going to do it and do it well. There was a certain charm to being a lady criminal, and Sansa had learnt to do what had to be done.

It wasn’t fun, but it made money -shitloads of it. And she had needed it to save the family home, even if there was no family left to put in said home.

She’d learned a lot in those last years, and very little surprised her.

So Tommy Shelby’s message didn’t surprise her.

The fact that he wanted to meet her for dinner in a famously expensive-slash-romantic restaurant was a bit more surprising.

“What do you think he wants?” Margaery asked, amusement shining in her eyes.

“To show who’s the boss.” Sansa said, even as she dressed for dinner.

Yes, she’d accepted his invitation, more of pure boredom than actual interest.

Margaery hummed. “What are you planning on wearing?”

Sansa indicated the blue cocktail dress she was already wearing. Margaery made a face. “Oh no.”

Sansa arched an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting something else?”

“Yes.” Her friend approached her closet. “You look like a boring housewife going to her husband's company dinner.”

“That’s specific.” She snorted.

“It’s that boring.” Margaery started going through her dresses, until she finally pulled one out. “This one.”

Sansa was already shaking her head. “No.” Sansa eyed the black dress. “That dress is not for business.”

“And we know for a fact he isn’t interested in business.” Margaery pushed the black towards her.

“We don’t.” Sansa said, refusing to take the dress.

“Even better.” Margaery insisted. “Because then we’ll know for a fact. Trust me. I know men.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “I know that.”

***

Thomas was waiting for Sansa Stark with a glass of whisky in his hand. He might look casual and relaxed to those who didn’t know him, but Tommy Shelby was nothing of the kind.

He had chosen everything about that night with care and consideration, because he was extremely curious about Lady Sansa Stark.

He wanted to know how such a young lady had become the head of the Arryn Group. How had she killed Baelish, and how could he thank her for that.

It wasn ‘t surprising that he’d never met Sansa in a professional capacity before, as he’d never done business with Baelish, and had hated the man. He was a snake and a coward, two things that Tommy despised on a man.

Their business also didn’t overlap, as the Arryn group was more into gambling and prostitution and he had other interests.

However, he was curious then and he’d only be satisfied once he’d had more time to talk to her. This time he had more information, and he wanted to see what she’d say to it.

She arrived punctually and he saw her hair before she saw her.

Sansa was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. She walked confidently through the restaurant, ignoring every single head turned in her direction.

Her black dress had a plunging neckline, but everything else about her was understated. No big jewelry, no flash lipstick, small clutch on her hand.

A classic.

He got up when she got closer. “Mr. Shelby.”

He offered his hand. “Lady Stark.” This time they just shook hands and her hold was firm and certain.

“Thank you for inviting me to dinner.” She gave him a ladylike smile.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation.” He despised all those ridiculous courtesies but he could play this game a little longer.

He held the chair for her and waited until she was properly seated before returning to his place.

“So…” She gave him another one of those vacant smiles. “You got me here. What do you want?”

“The horse, of course.”

She didn’t react at all to his statement. “All of this work just for a horse?”

“Winter Rose isn’t just any horse, is she?”

“No, she isn’t.” When the waiter stopped by her side, Sansa ordered a glass of wine without even removing her eyes from Tommy.

He waited until the man left. “So you see my point.”

“I do.” She nodded. “But my answer hasn’t changed and now I’m feeling disappointed.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I thought you might have something actually interesting to say to me.” She told him carelessly.

“Oh Lady Stark… You really don’t want to play that game with me.”

“What game?”

They both got quiet as the waiter came back and did all the necessary presentation before fucking finally serving her wine and leaving them.

“Because what’s interesting to men like me, normally scare ladies like you.” He warned her.

She took a sip from her wine, then smirked at him. “Do you promise?”

#madame baggio #crackship #crossover #gifs not mine #crossover pairings #au #game of thrones #sansa stark #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #modern au #pretty horses #Sansa Stark x Tommy Shelby

[red-riding-wood]

As The World Caves In

Moodboard by forgottonpeakywriter

Wrote this on a bit of a whim because I was inspired by this song. A modern AU in which the reader and Tommy are in the British infantry in a fictional war. It's nothing but angst, folks. Maybe a bit of fluff?

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

WARNINGS: war violence/themes, minor blood, romantic relationship, language

WC: 1454

“That’s it?” John’s tone was far from steady now as he breached the silence that hung, poignant, in the air between the members of your squad after the command had come over the radio.

A piercing blue gaze met yours, and Tommy nodded, no less in a state of shock than any of you. “Twenty minutes,” he repeated. You could feel the pain in that gaze as he tore it from yours to look to each of his soldiers. “Twenty fucking minutes. Make them count.”

You loosed your headset, and switched it off, not wanting to hear the frantic radio traffic.

Twenty minutes.

You’d spent more time thinking up silly fantasies about being back home, about living back in domesticity, about sharing a peaceful life with Tommy. A life that now, you would never have.

Before you could meet his gaze again, you peeled yourself from the group and disappeared between a couple of the caved-in buildings, chest heaving with a quickening breath and your heart slamming against a now seemingly-delicate ribcage. You couldn’t handle the quiver in John’s tone, the unusual silence of Arthur, the blue eyes that used to warm the emptiness in your chest but now wove your stomach into knots and chilled your flesh colder than the brisk December air.

You barely heard your name called past the hot roar of blood in your ears, and you ducked into an opening in the crumbled brick of one of the building’s walls, M4 clutched to your chest beneath trembling fingers.

The building did little to counter the cold; its windows were shattered from gunfire and its walls were cut like Swiss cheese from the bombs that had landed not even a week ago.

Twenty fucking minutes, you thought.

You had spent more time taking lives. Spent more time destroying these very buildings to combat enemy forces.

At last, you found the closest thing to a sanctuary; the walls had held out in this building, and your eyes caught on the bright red of a vintage record player, nestled in its own little haven between a kitchen island and a desk with nothing but a few scattered pencils and a hairbrush.

Make them count, he’d said.

You stopped as an idea struck you, and you let your rifle fall to the floor, the weight leaving the strap around your shoulder as if it had been a chain tethering you to this wretched place.

And you decided that, if only for those twenty minutes, that you would have the life you dreamt of.

---

Tommy couldn’t remember what his last words had been to Arthur and John, and he couldn’t help but keep glancing at his watch as he wound his way through the abandoned buildings in search of you. You hadn’t been answering your radio, but he refused to shed it until the faint sound of an old song began to play through the drywall, and he paused, headset falling from his ears and his panted breaths stilling.

He called your name, shouted it from lungs aching from the biting air of winter and a throat bitter with the faint tinge of bile. A few furnishings were loudly shoved to the side as he muscled his way through a door that had been blocked off, and clambered over them through a narrow hall.

He held his watch up. Four minutes.

The music was coming from another doorway, shut to the dark hall; daylight spilled from beneath the frame, and the tinny notes of a record player began to form a cohesive song now, a song that he recognised as the first one he had ever danced to with you. When he inhaled, threads of juniper and smoke met his lungs.

As he stepped past the threshold into the barren kitchen, his aquamarine gaze snapped to you and the bright yellow dress that hung a little too loose around your frame to be yours, at the hair you’d let fall over your shoulders as if you were not a soldier but a girl, at the eyes that stared back at him as if you’d been waiting for him for a century.

“What is this?” he demanded, and you swallowed, fighting back a tear as you stepped forward.

Your eyes flicked to the clock on the wall as it ticked, and you reached a hand out to the sergeant. “Come here,” you said, your voice quiet and broken. You couldn’t say much more past the knot in your throat.

Something about his countenance softened around sharp features, and he dropped his headset to the floor alongside your rifle.

A calloused but warm hand met yours, sending a pleasant shiver through your body. The cold air bit at your bare limbs, but you pulled him close, the scent of him now inhaled past the juniper of the burning candles you’d set along the dining table.

A hot breath fanned across your lashes as his forehead tipped to yours, and you reached a hand to the bone of a hollowed cheek, to the dark, chestnut locks of hair that had grown out shaggy from years of service. And his eyes bore into yours as the world became blurry with your tears.

“There were still some things around,” you breathed, your breaths becoming one and your head growing light. “I found this dress in one of the closets. It was the only one there was.”

A smile pulled at his lips, and he chuffed out a laugh. “I hate yellow,” he said.

“I know.” You smiled sadly, trying not to glance at the clock in your peripheral, trying to keep your gaze locked in his as he swept the tears from your eyes. You studied the way his hair fell across his forehead when his gaze left yours to sweep across the dress once more. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, and chapped lips brushed yours, your heart still slamming against your ribcage.

The clock ticked again, and your breath came shattered against the face you cupped in your hand. His fingers came up along your back, thumb moving back in forth in a lulling motion.

“In the bleak midwinter…” he breathed.

You blinked another onslaught of tears from your eyes, your lashes sticking together in the frigid air.

It was difficult to remind yourself, in this moment of pain that shot through your chest too viciously to not be real, that you had died already, that all of this was an afterlife, that none of this really belonged to you.

But you mirrored his words, your voice breaking.

The two of you barely stole a kiss before the air was ripped from your lungs, and you staggered falling against the table; his hand cupped your hip, dirtied fingernails digging into the fabric of your dress in an attempt to stabilize you.

Pressure erupted in your skull, and you couldn’t hear the music past the roar of bricks falling around you and the ringing of the shockwave. Caught in a swirl of smoke and debris, bits of drywall landed across Tommy’s hair, and shards of glass bit into your side as the two of you clung to one another on shaking legs and gasped for air. Blood ran in a line from his ear down the edge of his jaw, your fingertips growing sticky. Fear like nothing you’d ever seen glimmered in the blues of his eyes, eating at a heart that ached with yearning and tragedy.

The clock was gone now, the candles snuffed out in the cloud of ash that pervaded your burning lungs. Firelight gleamed against the side of Tommy’s face as a gout of flame engulfed your vision, and you uttered his name as if it were the only thing that could save you, but no sound came past the chaos around you.

A thumb ran up and down along your neck soothingly, and he said something back to you, but you furrowed your brow, looking to his lips to try and read what he said.

Keep your eyes on me.

The last of your breath was expelled from your lungs in a tremulous cough, and your fingers tugged at the lapel of his jacket in an attempt to bring him closer despite the searing heat that whelmed you.

The pencils and the record player struck you, but you kept your eyes glued to the twin blues that stared desperately back at you as if you were the only thing that could’ve saved him.

And before the flames could swallow you and the world could fully cave in around the darkening edges of your vision, his screaming soul was the last thing you saw in those piercing blues, reaching for yours in the inevitable darkness.  

---

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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[look-at-the-soul]

Have it all- Modern AU Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Professor Jeremiah invites a friend during his ethics class to talk to his students since they are starting their last year in college. Turns out you weren’t a stranger to Mr. Shelby.

Congratulations on 600 @zablife !!!! 🎉🥳🙌🏻 cheers to many more, thank you for your incredible creations. You’re probably over 900 now (and I’m terribly sorry I couldn’t post this earlier) I’m glad you liked the idea of a modern Tommy and I included the college theme with Professor Jeremiah so it wouldn’t be too far from your chosen theme.

Also thanks to @thesoldiersminute for helping me choose what car would modern Tommy use :)

⚠️ No warnings necessary, smut it’s only implied in the end. I was so nervous about posting this one, so here it goes.

“Welcome everybody to the first day of class of your last year.” Professor Jeremiah greeted his students. “Especially to those who arrive on time.” He looked towards you on the front row and the other three students. “And those who arrive late like usual, that is going to get you in so many troubles.” He added as a group of students entered the room making noise.

You felt bad for him, his assignments were some of your favorites, especially the way he conducted his class, he was an expert and put so much of himself to explain the topics and he really tried to make his students engage.

“You already know me from your philosophy class so this time, I would like to start differently.” He paced around the room with his hands behind his back. “Since you’re about to go out to the real world, I thought it would be good for you to hear firsthand of different business from a man who managed to build an empire from scratch, he’s a good friend and let me tell you, he’s got an incredible eye for opportunities, he will talk to you about his businesses, how he manages to be an entrepreneur and a lot of things, just like me, he values punctuality so I won’t make him wait any longer… give it up for Mr. Shelby.”

You’ve heard Professor Jeremiah talk about his friend Mr. Shelby before, but you imagined he would be over sixty-four, not the walking image of Adonis you found as he entered the classroom in his immaculate suit, leather briefcase.

“Thank you for the touching introduction Jeremiah.” Mr. Shelby shook hands with your professor and the room went deadly quiet. “Good morning everybody, I hope you’re giving this man a hard time.” He winked and the classroom erupted in laughs. “This is the first time we do something like this and I hope a word or two of what you’ll hear today will help you in your future.”

His voice was soft, firm and denoted security, it also attracted everyone’s attention.

Another group of irresponsible students walked in, Mr. Shelby looked at them by the corner of his eye and remained quiet while they took their seats.

“I would like to start by telling you how lucky you are, to be able to study in a place like this, with this quality of professionals, it’s a great shot, but out there it doesn’t matter your grades, title, the university where you come from… no, what really matters is the passion you have for the things you do and that you’re the one willing to do anything to get things done.”

You thought you would be taking notes of his words, but instead you found yourself in some kind of trance, your mind registering every single word he said.

“I wasn’t born with the same privileges like you, I wasn’t able to go to college, started working probably at twelve, you know what my destiny was meant to be? A drunk man homeless begging for some cash under a bridge, a lot of people told me I was a dreamer, that everything was out of my league… but I was hungry and not only of food, I was hungry for success, I wanted to be at the top, to prove everybody was wrong… but mostly to prove myself they were wrong about me.”

Mr. Shelby paced quietly around, looking at the students in the eye.

“How many times have you heard ‘that’s not for you’?” He pointed at no one in particular. “How many people laughed at your dreams?” He stopped right in front of you and locked his eyes in yours. The air escaping your lungs. “You, broccoli head” he pointed at Ben, the whole classroom had their eyes on him, “what’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.” Ben answered, but as his ice eyes kept on the boy, he explained: “It’s just a tweet.”

“Take your tweet outside and if anyone else wants to join, feel free to go.”

Gasps and surprised looks were shared by your classmates. Once Mr. Shelby closed the door his eyes found yours again.

“That’s an example of what you shouldn’t do. I can guarantee you, that young man won’t get too far.” His eyes looked intensely around the room. “There’s a quote that motivates me whenever things seem to be like too much.” He made a small pause and taking a deep breath, he shared it with the group; “when you’re tired, you learn how to rest… you don’t quit. Of course I don’t rest, but it still does the trick.”

Mr. Shelby then went on sharing some of his experiences with his businesses and how he started some of the projects and also some failure stories to show that not everything goes out as planned.

You felt fascinated by his life experience, the difficulties he went through and he was able to overcome everything. He talked with such passion that made you think this was the best conference you’ve been to in your entire college time.

And speaking of time, it flew and, in a blink, Mr. Shelby looked down at his watch, clasped his hands together and asked if anyone had a question.

Of course, you were the first to raise your hand.

“Mr. Shelby, you mentioned businesses, how do you manage time to take care of more than one business?”

“First of all, call me Tommy… and may I have your name Miss…?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

Looking at you, he repeated your name with a smile. “This will sound like a cliché, but it’s true, when you want to do something you find a way, if not, you find an excuse, besides I’ve a great group of people who manages every aspect of the businesses that allows me take a step back but being present at the same time.” You thanked him for answering your question and he went on to the group to see if anyone else had another one.

As the room was quiet, another question was burning in your tongue.

“Go ahead Miss Y/L/N, shoot.” Tommy encouraged you.

Shyly you smiled at him. “If you could do something differently on your way to success, would you change anything?”

Tommy looked from you to Professor Jeremiah, who was chuckling silently finally your endless questions were directed to someone else.

“No, nothing because every single thing that I faced brought me to the place where I am today, but I’d have liked to have had the opportunity to study.”

Tommy scanned the group to see if anyone else had a question but the students were usually quiet at this point, embarrassed to ask anything.

“This is a big chance for all of you to clear any doubt you might have about a job, a company…” Jeremiah tried to encourage the group to ask questions and he was a bit disappointed by the lack of interest his students showed.

But you wanted to know more.

“Alright, brave Y/N has another one.” Tommy waved his hand at you, he was leaning against the desk, but soon he undid the button of his jacket and sat on the desk, completely relaxed.

“If you had to choose only one of your companies, which one would you choose and why?”

You saw him running his thumb over his forehead. “Why can’t I have it all?” He chuckled and you looked away from him for a few seconds. “That’s a very good question, Y/N I’d keep my horses I have a couple of them as a hobby, but they’re so pure, so honest, I could live the rest of my life raising them.” His eyes were fixed on you, the rest of the room vanished. “But from a profitable business I’d keep my construction company; I build houses for the wealthy people and with the earnings from it I build houses for the people with a lower income so they can pay the house off monthly at a low interest rate.”

“That’s very kind of you.”

You had to learn so much from this man.

He thanked the group for their time and went to pat Professor Jeremiah on the back as your classmates rushed out of the classroom.

“Just wanted to say that I really enjoyed your conference, your story is so inspirational Mr. S-”

But he interrupted you at the way you were addressing him by raising his hand. “Sorry, Tommy.”

“Much better Y/N. I was asking Professor Jem to give you extra credits for your enthusiasm.”

Your teacher flashed a big smile. “She’s not only my best student, she got a scholarship, has a small job at the library to pay off part of her grant, her notes are the best and she’s working with the technology department to develop a watch for the elders so if they get lost or they fall, their family gets an alert.”

Tommy looked at you with interest.

Jeremiah excused himself as another colleague called him.

“I’m interested in your project, come to my office next week and I’ll help your team with the right connections to make this happen.” He offered you his card. You’ve never had a business card before. Shelby Company Ltd. it read.

Thanking him for his time and attention, you picked your backpack, but he stopped you.

“Jeremiah says this is a good time for students to get a part time job to get experience before graduating.” You nodded. “Why don’t you come with me for lunch and we can discuss that project of yours?”

“I have to help professor Evans with his weekly program…”

Tommy looked at you with a million questions in his eyes, so you explained him how to pay back part of your scholarship, every semester you helped a professor with their activities; grading homework, preparing questionnaires, checking exams… before you were able to finish your explanation, he was calling Professor Jeremiah.

“Jimmy, yeah need a favor…” he looked at you with the hint of a smile on his lips. “could you let Professor Evans know Miss Y/N’s going to be helping you this semester? Of course she’s not though, you’re just her cover up. Thanks man.”

“You can’t do that.” You were in shock.

“‘Course I can, now you’re free to have lunch.”

His phone announced a new message from Kenya. Waiting for you. Fuck, he forgot they had plans to well, fuck over lunch.

Can’t go, I’m in the middle of a meeting.

He never skipped a chance to have a feminine body, but when he looked at you, he knew he made the right choice.

You didn’t know this man, but there was something about him that made you want to know more, maybe it was the way his eyes sparkled, or his contagious smile, the mysterious aura surrounding him, or the fact that he was friends with Professor Jeremiah.

Surprised of the elegant and ultra-expensive place he chose, you learned that he not only owned the place, but also another three restaurants of different categories that were part of the Shelby Group. He grew up in a very poor neighborhood in Birmingham and shared one small bed with his three brothers. In exchange you told him a little about your background, unlike him you were the only child, raised by your father after your mother passed away during birth. Always short of money, when you realized college was out of the budget, you applied to all the universities that offered a scholarship program.

“Would you like to work for me, Y/N?” He asked out of nowhere.

Was this your second or third glass of wine?

“But I don’t have any experience, Tommy and your companies are already established how can a student like me help you?”

“According to your professor Jeremiah, you proposed the no waste program to reduce the waste of notebooks, backpacks and other school supplies to help students who can’t afford to buy a backpack.” Tommy showed you the message and Instagram photo of your initiative.

You did it in your first semester, encouraging students to donate the things they didn’t use anymore that could help new students, others could also join by swapping their items. “I could use a pair of fresh eyes in my company.”

His velvety voice made you consider his proposal.

“Let’s do this…” his fingers playing with the border of his glass of whiskey, “come to the office tomorrow, let me show you around and you get to choose where do you want to work.”

“I will choose?”

Tommy nodded. “My company is at your disposal, you can pick the group that’s in charge of the restaurants, the pubs, the vineyard or the construction. Well the pubs and casinos are under the same management but separately if you know what I mean.”

“You’ve a vineyard?” If you were shocked before, now you were even more. He nodded and talked to you about his own whiskey brand.

“Well, I recently purchased a complex that has everything in the same area; shopping mall, apartments, offices but I don’t think you’d be interested in that.” Tommy lighted a cigarette, blowing the smoke away. He decided to leave the boxing matches and illegal car races out of the conversation, he didn’t want to bore you.

“How do you do that?”

“I only have the best people around me, that’s why I need you.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes, I promise you this job won’t interfere in your studies, it’s only for your free time.”

This was all too much, him, his companies, how could he possibly need help from you, you were only a student. He showed you some photos, sliding through them, but then you found one that changed everything.

“That’s very kind of you, but I can’t accept.”

“Why not? Is there something wrong?”

“I’m really sorry, thank you for lunch, it was incredible to meet you and hear your story,” getting up, you took your bag from the rack, “I’ve to go, thank you one more time, your life is inspiring.”

And you walked away feeling guilty for lying to him.

Tommy was startled and didn’t have time to react to go after you.

So defeated, he went to the Garrison instead for the daily drink after work where the Blinders gathered.

Taking the Bullard cue, Michael was complaining that Polly walked in when he had some girl on his desk, Arthur laughing uncontrollably.

“Where have you been Tom?” Arthur poured him a drink.

“Busy.” He answered quietly after hitting the ball.

“Kenya was looking for you at the office.”

“Why did you let her in?!” He snapped in an irritated tone while Michael took his shot.

Arthur raised his hands in a sign that he had nothing to do.

He was about to continue the argument, when Jeremiah joined them in the back of the room.

“What do you know about Y/N?” He asked his friend while lighting a cigarette.

Jeremiah studied him while Tommy moved around the table to take his shot.

“The best of her class, International business student, reserved, she’s a good kid.”

“So she worked with that professor doing his job? Then she goes to the library and still has time to take care of a child?”

“Children, they are three. And the library needs to remain open for the medicine students of the campus, she also uses it as her time to do her homework because she can use the computer for free.”

“She could do that at home.”

“She rents the couch to one of her classmates and doesn’t have her own equipment.”

“When does she sleeps?”

“When do you?”

“Touché.” Tommy answered letting his brother use his turn to play.

“Why the sudden interest in Y/N?”

After a long pause, Tommy admitted out loud: “She reminds me so much of myself at her age.”

But there was something else he wouldn’t admit to Jeremiah; he was fascinated by you.

***

Holding the book against your chest, you entered the campus area, avoiding bumping into some of the students. Reaching your building, that’s when your eyes found him; leaning against the brick wall, flicking at his cigarette, he probably wasn’t aware of the eye sided looks of the other students, not that he seemed to care though. He wasn’t wearing a tie today, first button undone, Ray bans adding an unreal effect to the mystic around this man.

But his deadly accessory?

His smile.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Mr. Shelby what are you doing here?” You could hear the girls in your class whispering and staring at you.

“Again with the Mr?” He arched one of his eyebrows. “You suddenly left yesterday, so I’m here to see if you’d reconsider my job offer.”

Behind his sunglasses he was eyeing up and down.

His voice had a spell on you, not realizing how or when he walked you to the parking lot and now he was opening the door to his silver Aston Martin and you were freaking out to ruin anything around.

Sliding behind the wheel after he closed the door for you, he smiled again and you had to remind yourself how to properly breathe when he started the engine and drove away.

“Where are we going? I’ve classes to attend.”

“Professor Jeremiah will make sure you don’t go into any trouble if you skip a few courses today.”

“He can’t do that.”

A cocky look decorated his face. “But I do.”

He was having an internal battle trying to decide if he should tell you that apart for covering the rest of your scholarship and other tuition fees, he made a generous donation to the institute, therefore he could ask your professors to look the other way if you skipped some classes.

“I want to show you around the company.” Parking his car, you saw a sign announcing it was a reserved spot for the CEO, hurrying to open the door for you, he was telling you how he recently moved all of his businesses to this headquarters, each in a different floor. You noticed how everyone was able to see through the crystal private elevator, people quickly looking away.

“I tried to convince my aunt of choosing a traditional elevator, but she insisted on a clear one.” He explained as his hand brushed yours accidentally, sending electricity waves through your veins. “The first floor is used for the administration of the restaurants.” He showed you proudly and explained the different concept each place had, people walking past him, greeted Tommy as making a small bow to him, you were surprised to see him shaking hands with the guards, and the people cleaning, calling them by their names, taking a moment to have a chat.

And when he wasn’t greeting someone, he gave you long and deep glances.

The clubs were next, they had the best PR manager working on getting celebrities and special guest to celebrate their birthdays at their clubs. You remembered dancers in cages hanging from the ceiling when you went to one of them with your friends. He then suggested the two of you should go some day.

It was a surprise to see him talking so freely about what he did and how he was in charge of everything. He seemed to be in his element. He assured you again that could choose any business and area to work.

“In this floor we have a special team to monitor our casinos, we have the CCTV registering everyone; who walks in, who goes to the bathroom, their spending records…”

You started to breathe shakily, a strange pressure squeezing your brain, the walls around starting to close.

“Hmm I…”

“Sorry, am I explaining you too fast?”

“Tommy I can’t accept this job.” Every minute passing only made you feel worse.

“You haven’t seen the floor reserved for the booze, that’s my favorite place.” He deliberately ignored your words.

“I stole money from your company… I can’t work for you Tommy.” You suddenly snapped as he was in the middle of the stairs.

“My father couldn’t afford to pay college, I told him I got a full scholarship but that’s not true, I have to pay half of the tuition, it was so demanding and I couldn’t find a regular job because some classes are in the morning, midday and noon… if I wanted to study, I needed to find a way to make money.” While you were looking at your hands, embarrassed, Tommy walked down a couple of steps. “One of the few options I had without turning myself into a whore, was outplaying gambling games.” You explained, feeling his eyes staring at you. He remained in silence. “You’ve lots of failures at the poker tables, your dealers have the same signals since forever and the roulette always ends in the same four numbers, one time red, then black, again black and finally red, it’s a terrible pattern, they don’t change the sequence… I’m sorry, I promise I’ll pay you back every single cent.” Finally feeling free from telling Tommy the secret that had been eating you alive as you found out he was the owner of the casino you visited regularly to make money for college, you had to tell him and that’s why you couldn’t accept his offer.

And again, you tried to leave, feeling too embarrassed to look at him.

The only difference is that now he was prepared and stopped you taking you by the arm and walked you out of the building, to his car.

Silence was killing you, feeling sorry for lying to him and even worse, stealing from him, you kept your head down. He’d probably take you to the police station.

“Now follow me.” He motioned you out of his car, you didn’t notice he had drove back to the campus, if he wanted to talk to your professors you’d understand, you’d probably be denied to graduate.

Crossing your arms against your chest, you saw the wind moving the hair at the top of his head. The campus was in the opposite direction you wanted to tell him as he marched inside of one of the units made for the students living there.

After a quick trip in the elevator in silence, you didn’t know what to say.

His jaw clenched didn’t go unnoticed as he opened the door for you, why did he walk as if he owned the place?

“I heard you rent an uncomfortable couch to your roommates and use the library’s computer at night.” You nodded. “I know you’ve been stealing me for a while, Y/N. My security team detected you a little too late, I’ve to admit the redhead wig confused me a little bit, but then I followed your moves and tracked down the money you sent to your father after paying your tuition.”

In a shocked state, you frowned. “You knew I was stealing from you and did nothing?”

“You paid college, and showed me the flaws my casino had. Plus, I really enjoyed watching you in those wigs and outfits.”

Flashing a smile at you, Tommy started walking seductively, taking each step slowly. “Why?”

“Because… you wouldn’t have accepted the money if I offered it to you out of nowhere.”

“You’ve been studying me… you did your homework.”

“And since you told me the truth, I’m offering you this apartment for yourself.” Spinning you around, he pointed at a new desk, chair and the newest computer. “That too.”

“My economics professor says there’s no free lunch*.”

Tommy laughed. “Your professor is a wise person.” He sat at the arm of the couch, it looked more comfortable than the one where you usually slept on. “Not gonna lie, there are a couple of things I’m interested in.” Standing now in front of him, you saw his eyes sparkling, hooking his finger in the pocket of your skirt, he pulled you in for a kiss.

His mouth crashed on yours hard, his expert lips dancing with yours, his hands roaming your back up and down, the kisses exchange was intense. Pulling apart for some air, you saw his mouth water at the sight of your breasts so close to him.

“We can do great things together, Y/N. you can help me boost the security of the casino.” Tommy got up, but didn’t let go of your body, instead he started kissing down your jaw and neck. “And I can help you finish your career.”

“And in the meantime, we get to have fun?” You asked as he walked you backwards to one of the bedrooms.

“Oh, I can assure you, we’re going to have lots of fun.” He admitted playfully while scanning your face to read your reaction.

You liked how it sounded, and you also liked the adoration in his eyes as he finally helped you out of your top and skirt, standing in front of him in just your matching black lace underwear and stockings. Throwing his jacket away, you couldn’t resist the urge to start kissing the bit of skin exposed with each button you were opening. Holding you against the closed door of your bedroom, Tommy took your hands in his and raised them above your head, bending down to kiss you over the fabric covering your breasts, making you suppress a moan.

“Someone once told me, that I had to choose between the success of my career or my personal one. I’d like to see that person today to rub it in his face, that in fact… I can have it all.”

***

A/N: Free lunch= A free lunch describes a situation where an individual receives goods or services at no cost. A free lunch's cost is opportunity cost.

* If you want to be tagged in other stories, just let me know. ♥️ your comments and feedback have a huge impact ✨

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#zablife600 #That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy imagine #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #modern tommy shelby #AU Tommy Shelby

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e // chapter two

Chapter List

A Peaky Blinders Balletcore Modern AU

Sylvia

I closed my eyes, stood en pointe, pushing myself beyond the limit, my whole delicate frame quivering with the effort, slowly pulling my left leg in towards my body. I could feel the strain, the tightness tugging and releasing with every breath as I forced my thigh up closer to my ear, breathing through the pain. All my concentration focussed on holding the position long enough to relax just enough to push my knee against my ear and hold it.

My sister had already mastered the position, she was afterall, born five minutes earlier and five minutes more talented than I. Thats what I'd always told her anyway. I'd spent my whole life doing things like this, hiding in the dance studio after class practicing longer and harder than her, exhausting myself to keep up with her. Trying not to hold it against her because it couldn't be helped.

I listened to the rise and fall of Moonlight Sonata, teetering with it as it climbed. For a moment I was nothing more than a body, a waif suspended on string, commanded by the music which filled my ears. Held by the music. And then just as sudden and as sharp as I had been delicate, the music cut out and my phone began to ring. Its shrill tone startled me and sent me down onto my knees swearing at the sting of my sudden release and when I saw my brothers name on the screen I cursed him, vowing not to take shit from him when he'd fucked my practice up.

"What the fuck is it John I'm in the middle of practice!" I snapped, flushing pink with frustration when he chuckled.

"Temper temper Fen," he grinned. I could hear traffic from his end of the line and the voice of another person talking to him, "Sonya with you?"

"No one calls me that," I hissed rolling my eyes, trust him to disturb me and not my sister even though it was her he wanted, "and no, shes not, like I said I'm at practice..."

"Don't you practice together?"

"Yeah well," I bit the tip of my thumb, gathering my things together as I sat on the floor, legs bent out of shape, like a wilted flower, "this is extra..."

"Nah, our Fen doesn't need extra practice she's too good for that shit..."

"Well now you're just admitting you've not seen a single one of my performances from the last three years..."

"Eh now thats not..."

"The nutcracker, christmas 2015..." I said sharp enough to shut him up because he knew I was right. I started tugging on the ribbon of my pointe shoes to undo them, using my teeth to pull the ribbon loose, more aggressive than I should have been.

I might not have seen my brothers for a long time but it didn't mean I'd lost my Shelby charm.

"Right, alright so we haven't exactly been close..." he sighed, "am sorry Fen..."

"Fuckin don't call me that dinlow," I snapped then, losing my temper because I couldn't stand to hear him talk like we were still brother and sister when they'd all but abandoned us down in London at the ballet. Our fucking Tommy probably would have sent us further had he not been so intent on keeping tabs on us. "Me own brothers don't have time to come to a fuckin Sunday matinee but they send their little spies to follow us into town every Friday night..."

"Thats for your protec..."

"Just tell me what you're phonin me for John, so I can get back to my fuckin life..."

"Alright," he sighed defeated, he sounded sad but not as sad as it had made me feel every time I'd put their names on a guestlist only for them to be crossed off it again as no shows. "Alright Syl," he said and it was then that I heard the tiredness in his voice, like he'd been up for days, "I'm at your flat right now yeah and your not home and your sisters not home and I need to talk to y'both its important alright so will y'jus let me know where you are an me an uncle Charlie will come pick you up so we can go get..."

"Uncle Charlies with you?"

"Aye lass,"

"Wait why are you at our flat? And whats Uncle Charlie here for?" call it Romani instinct but at the mention of my uncle I'd britsled, this goosebump creeping sensation shivering straight down my spine.

"Lets just get us all together first right an then I'll explain everythin sis, whats the address of your studio yeah? Then we'll go get..."

"I don't know where Sunny is," I said quickly, feeling guilty because when they'd first sent us off to ballet school when we were only little girls Tommy had made us promise we would always look out for one another. Family first and all that. But in recent months I'd not been brave enough to do that. Sonya had been keeping secrets, sneaking off in the evenings after training and I, not wanting to be another spy for Tommy, knowing how much it hurt to feel like you never really got a moments privacy, hadn't tried to push her for honesty.

"What?" John snapped, "why don't you know where your fucking sister is Sylvia?"

I flinched hearing the flair in his tone, the anger growled out between those words. John had never been the brother to lose his temper with me and Sonya, we'd always been his favourites, he'd always been soft on us, but just then as he'd spat those words down the phone he'd sounded more like Tommy or Arthur than John.

"I...sorry I don't fuckin spy on my sister John she's allowed to leave the house surely..." I stuttered losing my confidence, hearing Uncle Charlie chastise him for scaring me. He said something about how if he'd wanted to scare us Tommy would have come himself. That much was true.

"Fuck sake," groaned John, i couldnt tell if his frustration was self directed or still all for me but when he sighed and said sorry I felt that shiver down my spine again. Something had happened. Something was wrong.

"Look am sorry Fen," he said a little softer, all the stress bubbling just beneath the surface, "where are you? I'll come an get you, we can talk in the car..."

"I'm just leaving the studio now," I said softly, "I'll get the tube it'll be..."

"Nah you won't kid stay inside yeah, I'll phone when I'm outside, you stay put alright.."

"Yeah, yeah sure thats fine I'll stay here..."

"Good girl," he said, his voice sounding like a smile again, relaxing me a little, not really doing enough to quell the fear rising in my chest.

If Tommy had sent him and Uncle Charlie down to London to speak to us, that meant some serious shit had gone down in the family. Someone was either dead, dying or soon to be, and the way John had cut me off when I'd told him I'd take myself home, told me we were all threatened.

"Alright, right see you soon, love you,"

"Love you," i chewed my cheek. They weren't exactly words our brothers used often. He was obviously feeling superstitious.

I slipped my trainers on and shuffled my leg warmers down around my ankles, picking myself and my bag off the floor. As I left the studio to wait in the foyer I slipped one airpod in but not the other, knowing that if my brothers could have me watched anyone could.

In the foyer there was a large wall length mirror and I stood for a moment gazing into it, looking at my sister looking back at me. We were the kinds if identical twins people really did struggle to tell apart, even our brothers. Even occasionally our Aunt Pol who usually had a knack for these things. As youngens it had been a blessing, all the tricks we'd been able to play when we were still close, when we knew everything about one another and we never argued or fell out. Never kept secrets.

But I knew wherever she was now I needed to warn her about John, because if she was somewhere she shouldn't have been, somewhere in the city our brothers didn't run, there'd be more trouble than was worth.

She felt so far away now and I felt guilty because it wasn't exactly like it wasn't my fault. I'd distanced myself since she'd gone for a guest role with the royal ballet, Odette, Swan Lake. I'd wanted to go for it too but when she'd mentioned it I'd changed my mind and held back knowing she'd get the role over me. Now her name was all over this end of the city, Sonya Gray, and next year she'd probably be a Principle. I could try again then, it was only a year. I'd tried to reason with myself at the time, but now I had to admit, it hurt. It ached. I hated to feel jealous of her but I did.

And so rather than resent her I'd started to distance myself, let her drift away, let her sneak off in the evenings, pretended not to notice.

Where are u? Johns here!!!

I sent the text and slipped my phone back into my pocket, turning the volume up on my music as I drifted to a seat in the corner.

People watched us. We were infamous and it had nothing to do with how talented we were. Nothing to do with how many lead roles we could land. Everything to do with our brothers, the name we tried to distance ourselves, the reputation we just couldn't shake. She'd probably heard of my brothers, most people had. What I didn't realise was that she'd seen the news on the television, that I hadn't but when Sonya replied to my texts with a phone call two seconds later, I realised why that woman hadn't been able to look my in the eyes. It wasn't fear or suspicion. Only pity.

There was a woman sitting on the reception desk. A security camera on the ceiling behind her.

When I looked up at her she looked down at her hands trying to pretend she hadn't been watching me. But I wasn't naïve.

"Its fucking Michael! Someones hit michael!" she was sobbing, her voice was shaking and as the words sunk in I felt my own hands begin to tremble. I sucked my cheek in between my teeth and bit down trying to control myself, not wanting to cry now when someone could see me. Because they'd know I was only just hearing the news.

"Is he..." I started, not wanting to finish the question because I knew I was being listened to. Didn't want anyone eaves dropping.

"Hospital," was all she managed to get out before another sob overwhelmed her. For a second all I heard was her choked crying and I wondered where she was. Wondered who was seeing her break down like this. Wondered how long it would take for her pretty little face to start circulating the internet, her hand clasped over her mouth, her eyes red rimmed and swollen, her nose pinkish with sorrow. She'd be the perfect image for the pigs at the daily mail to run with, her pretty tears, the waif in distress. They'd push that photo on Twitter and Facebook, she'd be in the headlines. Poor girl.

"Listen Sunny where are you?" I asked her trying to be gentle, biting my teeth a little deeper into my cheek until I could feel the blood seeping, "you in public?" I asked and she started giggling through her sniffles.

"Uhuh," she said, "I need to get a fuckin grip i know," she said then probably wiping her eyes as she pushed her way through a busy London train station.

"Nah," i said sighing, pushing the wisps of hair which were coming loose around my forehead away. Twisting one a little nervously. "Nah its not that its John ain't it, he's coming to pick me up now and then we're coming to get you..."

"Oh," she sniffled, "yeah i spose that makes sense..."

"Yeah," I said thinking about our poor cousin, rushed to hospital in the back of an ambulance. Poor Pol, she'd barely been reunited with him and now he was being ripped away all over again.

"Shit," she shivered as she spoke, "look I'll be in Camden right, by the lock or something and we can say I was just with a mate..."

"Were you not?" I bit my lip, hesitant, wondering if I asked her now she would tell the me the truth.

"No..." she said quietly, "shit Sylvie," she was whispering now, still crying a little, her voice shaking a little though now she sounded more scared than sad, "if I tell you you gotta promise you won't say a word to John,"

"Cross my heart,"

"I'm in Little Italy," she said then, "Sabini's territory..."

"Oh..." I said, glancing up at the woman behind reception. She was still pretending not to be watching. I wondered if my face was going to be plastered all over social media too. There was less potential really, I wasn't crying, the photographs of me wouldn't have the same waif like prettiness because I'd only been frowning and chewing my cheek. I'd be tight lipped, sharp sullen jawed.

"I've been seein this lad..." she said, "he's Italian..."

"Oh..." I said again with a smirk, cracking a grin when she gasped and told me not to judge her.

"Honest he's not like the others.."

"Not a fucking..." i trailed off, "you know..."

"I mean, yeah but..."

"Oh fuck me Sunny," I grinned in disbelief, "ever likely you didn't want me to say anything to John!"

"Don't Sylvie he'll kill the poor lad..."

"Yeah," I said with a soft smile, "yeah he fuckin will..." I looked up then, just in time to see a swish black range rover pull to a stop in the road outside. I knew it was my brother before the window rolled down and the horn started beeping, but when she heard the beep from her end of the phone Sonya knew too amd smirked.

"Camden Lock yeah, just say I'd gone to the market..." she said, "I'll see you soon, love you,"

"Love you," I said as I stood up and made my way outside as quickly as I could, just wanting John to stop hitting that fucking horn and causing a scene.

Next Chapter

#bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #Peaky blinders modern au #Tommy shelby modern au #Bonnie gold modern au #bonnie gold imagine

[ryuzakemo128]

The Devil and Death

Chapter Three: The Start Of Something

Trigger Warning: Cursing, mention of smut/ sex scenes

Chapter Summary: The uphill battle of starting a criminal career while still having their core values intact.

<Previous Chapter / Next Chapter>

Red and Galina is on the way to meeting with their Russian friend, Ramon. He recently made contact to start up a brothel in Moscow. He wanted to meet with them before he decided to do anything other than pick out the right area to start up in. As it wasn't legal because they didn't want to look into crimes against sex workers or something like that. As Ramon liked to say to them as often as usual.

Ramon looked like a himbo in every sense of the word and the feeling of that word. He has three assistants behind the scenes to help with the majority of the harder work that he couldn't do. But he usually brought in most of the female sex workers into the business and the meeting with both Red and Galina is about the cut in return of protecting his brothel.

Ramon is a a six foot four inches tall with a slight tan, he has his mum's name tattooed on his right shoulder with the date she is born and the date she passed away in a love heart. He has long shaggy dirty blonde hair and a beard that is a slightly darker tone. Toned in the terms of physical appearance and he had talked to Red about just deciding to dedicate time away to focus on just that.

Red and Ramon spoke in more detail about how he wanted his establishment protected. While Galina inspected the area to see if anything needed fixing up or replacing, writing down details whenever anything showed up.

"Regular maintenance is covered, last thing we both want is for this place to crash. So I'll look over what kind of improvements we could make now and the ones to work towards," Galina stated, as she continued look around.

"14 guys, round the clock protection and they'll listen to you," Red stated, as she walked into his office, "They'll be there to protect your girls and guys from aggressive patrons, Two of them outside your office, two of them outside the entrance and five each to just keep the area feel safer,"

"I also want to throw in one or two of your expert people,"

"Deal, what kind of expert though?"

"I'm talking about her," Ramon said pointing to Galina.

"Ask her, I can't say whether she'll agree to it, but even if she did. Don't expect her to stay longer than three years,"

"Fine by me, I'll go talk to her about it,"

Red and Galina agreed that if they helped out here, they'll be able to spread out further afterwards. Although Galina didn't like the factor of sinking in three years staying there to improve the look and feel of the brothel. Hidden behind a rather prominent bar owned by his twin brother Vanya. Thus still protected by the people his brother hired rom Red and Galina.

Vanya is identical to his twin, Ramon in the terms of looks and the main difference between the two is that he slightly smarter than him in some ways. Just like Ramon is smarter than Vanya in other ways. But his intelligence is shown through his ability to multitask. Ramon on the other hand is smart in the terms of charismatic ability.

The result of the meeting is a net positive for both sides, Galina didn't see it as that and certainly went to town on her part to improve the look of the brothel first. She took three weeks to renovate each part of the brothel. Just to make sure it looked nicer in every sense and Ramon received more from the renovated room than the older ones. Which just fueled his romantic desire for Galina even further.

Red went home after those three weeks, as it was agreed to stay with them while this went on to see if it's beneficial enough to revamp the brothel part of the building. Plus she wanted to get gifts for Ruby and Charlie while she is in Russia.

Three weeks after Red is in England and Galina is still in Russia to keep working on the renovations. Thomas had a break from the frequent visits from her friend and later that night. They finally had enough privacy to fuck without being afraid of someone interrupting them. Although it cost Red being without being in consistent contact with Galina. But at this point, the cost is worth it as they'd get more money in the long run.

"This is going to be a peaceful three years for the both of us," Red said afterwards.

"I'm fine with that," Thomas responded with a slight smirk.

"I'm certain she'd send Masha to live with her grandparents while she's over there," Red pointed out.

"I'm also certain that I don't want to speak to them ever again"

Three Years Later

Ramon's business is booming, renovations were completed long after the first year and regular maintenance throughout. Galina decided to help out with the bar by the last few months. The more money they brought it, the more the two brothers seemed to have liked her. In terms of making them a substantial amount of money.

Red didn't expect her to break in after she brought her children home from school. Which caused Red's heart to lurch and it felt like it almost jumped right out of her.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders modern au #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby #Red (Female Reader) #Red (Female Reader) Fanfiction #Red (Female Reader) Fanfic #Thomas Shelby Fluff #Tommy Shelby Fluff #Thomas Shelby Angst #Tommy Shelby Angst #Thomas Shelby au #Tommy Shelby au #Thomas Shelby Modern au #Tommy Shelby Modern au #Modern Thomas Shelby #Modern Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader #Thomas Shelby x Female Reader #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader #Tommy Shelby x Female Reader #Tommy Shelby x Reader

[soleilceirinen]

The Portrait | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: Thomas Shelby is your History professor at the university. One day he wants to meet you at his office and it scares you a bit. Definitely, you are not expecting to see what's waiting for you there. Modern AU.

Warnings: nothing.

A/N: this is short and maybe makes no sense but I just wanted to write something after not writing anything in months. Also, it's inspired by a real teacher I had, who kept a huge self portrait in his university office. It was horrible and funny at the same time.

Sorry for the English, it isn't my first language. There are probably a lot of mistakes but I don't feel like proofreading it more. Thanks for reading it!

Peaky Blinders Masterlist | Cillian Murphy Masterlist

In the three years that you had been studying at the university, you had never been in professor Shelby’s office. Not even once. But there were rumours, each of them crazier than the next one. They said that one of the walls was covered by a bookshelf which actually was a secret door to access professor Solomon’s office, who some people believed were his secret lover. But that was nothing compared to other things you had heard, such as not going alone to his office if you were a young woman, just in case. 

Of course, you didn’t believe any of this. Unfortunately, you had learned the hard way that sometimes people were mean and they would talk shit about others just out of jealousy, or self discontent. Some people had very sad and empty lifes. 

It didn’t make sense to you because Thomas Shelby never messed with anyone. The man taught his classes and left, unlike other teachers who tried really hard to be friends with their students, he knew where to set the limits. He was serious and a good professor, one of the best you had ever had. 

His lectures were focused on the first half of 20th Century History. Sometimes, Thomas would talk about World War I in a way that made you feel like he had been there, as if he were telling you all his memories. 

-

On Monday you got an email from him. Your heart skipped a beat, he wanted to meet you at his office. The message was brief and concise, it just said that he wanted to talk to you, along with the appointment’s date. Now you were a nervous wreck. What did he want to talk about with you? You couldn’t know, maybe your last essay was so horrible that he wanted to say it to your face and see your reaction.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to push away all those thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal and you were creating a mountain out of a grain of sand. Besides, it made no sense to dwell on the suffering if you didn’t even know the reason why he wanted to meet.

-

It had been five minutes since you arrived at Mr. Shelby’s office. The only problem was that you couldn’t find the strength to knock on the closed door. You just wanted to put off the moment as long as possible.

"You can do it. Tommy doesn't bite, you know?"

The sudden presence of someone behind you made you turn around in surprise. You thought you were alone in the empty hallway but clearly you were wrong because Mr. Solomons was standing next to you, seemingly amused. After all, his office was the one next to Thomas's. 

He was your professor too, although his lectures didn’t captivate you as much as those of Mr. Shelby. It wasn’t because they weren’t interesting, he specialised on Jewish History and cultural heritage, but the way he rambled was certainly disconcerting. Some days after leaving his class you weren’t even able to determine what he had been talking about since  he liked to spill ideas that in theory had some kind of connection with each other.

“I know, thanks for the encouragement,” you replied quietly. He placed one of his large hands on your shoulder and gave you a friendly squeeze before walking past you, as he headed towards his own office. 

-

Mr. Shelby's deep voice invited you in from the other side of the door. You entered slowly, fixing your gaze on the floor. He waited, sitting on the other side of the desk as he watched you with interest. 

“How are you, Y/N?”

The answer died in your throat the moment you gathered enough courage to look up in order to meet his blue eyes. Mr. Shelby stared at you expectantly, one eyebrow raised. You covered your mouth with your hand, the last thing you wanted to do now was bursting into laughter but you couldn’t take your eyes away from the painting.

Right behind him, almost covering the whole surfice of the wall, hung a huge portrait. It wasn’t a photograph, it looked like an oil painting on canvas. In it appeared Mr. Shelby, who was wearing the kind of clothes that men would probably wear back in the 1920’s, standing next to a majestic white horse. Slowly, your eyes moved from the painting to the man in front of you. 

Who in his right mind has a painting like that in their university office? It was the tackiest thing you had seen in a long time. Definitely, not what you were expecting to find there. 

“Y/N?”

Mr. Shelby's soft voice brought you back to reality. To the here and now. "Yes, good. And you?"

"Not bad. You'll wonder why I summoned you today," he said, as he rummaged through the piles of papers and books that littered his desk. You made a small noise of confirmation, so he continued speaking. "I really liked your last essay about the role of women in society during World War I. Have you ever been to France?"

You tilted your head to the side, for a moment nothing made sense. What did one thing have to do with the other? You kept looking at the portrait, as if the answer was painted somewhere there. "France?" 

At your bewildered face, Mr. Shelby laughed softly. It sounded as if he were letting out a gust of air. His eyes shined gently, he seemed to be in a good mood. “Yes, the country. The university’s History department has been offered a student exchange with a French university. It’s only a week but in five days you can do many things. I was talking to Mr. Solomons and we agreed that you are one of our most promising students, it might be interesting for you to go.”

"Really? I don't know what to say..." you mumbled, your cheeks turning red and warm. You wanted to cry, or laugh, or both. "I've never been to France, I don't even speak French."

Mr. Shelby found what he was looking for. He placed a form in front of you and pointed his finger at it. "Think about it. If you decide to go, fill this out and bring it to me in a couple of days. It's a great opportunity," he added.

Nodding, you took the form and put it carefully between your notes so it wouldn’t get all wrinkled. “Thank you so much for considering me,” you finally said, truly grateful. 

You looked one last time at the painted version of Thomas. His cold eyes returned an icy stare from above, with an almost cruel expression. He seemed so distant, like someone who no longer has anything to lose. It made you wonder, in the first place, the history behind the painting. Did he commission it? Why? Anyway, he could have hung it at his house, not there. 

Before stepping out of the office, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him. What you weren’t expecting was Thomas returning the smile back at you, but he did and for a brief moment, his face lit up. That face couldn’t be further away from the hard features of his painted version. 

As you walked down the hallway you shook your head. So many nerves for nothing. It also infuriated you a little bit to think about all the shit people said about him behind his back, all rumours, since nobody ever mentioned the painting. 

However, you had something clear. Despite the bad reputation that preceded him, you kind of liked Thomas Shelby. He had the most incredible pair of blue eyes and the worst taste when it came to decoration, but nobody is perfect.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #modern!tommy shelby #peaky blinders au #professor!tommy shelby #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinder fanfic #reader insert

[kruzchka]

'Tomas Santiago' 🚬 (Thomas Shelby Filo/Modern AU)

(note: F/N means friend's name) spotify link:

You and your friends decides to go to BGC after a long day at work. Your mother already warned you and your friends about a certain gangster group in BGC who's always wandering the streets at night and cause trouble. You were curious about this certain group because their faces haven't been exposed to the television due to the reason that the police never once catch one member of the group.

"Uy pre mag gagabi na ano na? Di pa ba tayo uuwi?" (Bro, the sun is already setting, should we go home now?) Your friend F/N asked worriedly about you. "Yeah, your mother already texts me that we should go home now" Your other friend replied. You stopped your tracks as you turn your head to them with an excited expression painted on your face. "Guys...what if we wait until the famous gangsters showed up? I mean bhe, what if kamukha nila katulad na katulad dun sa wattpad!" (what if they look like those gangsters in wattpad!) Your friends stared at you in disbelief. "Bhe...di masamang maging delulu pero kailangan na natin umuw-" (Bhe, it's not bad to be delulu sometimes, but we need to lea-) Your friend's sentence got cut by a fairly tall man that bumped into your friend's shoulder that looks like its an intentional bump "Ay sorry ha nabangga kita di kasi ako tumitingin sa dinadaanan ko..." (oh sorry, I bumped to you because I'm not paying attention where I was walking...) Your friend said in a sarcastic tone as she scoffs at the man. Meanwhile the man remained silent, puffing the air from his cigarette as his eyes were fixated on you. His eyes weren't the usual that you often see everyday. You find yourself drowning into his beautiful ocean eyes. Your friend looks at you in confusion and she quickly glanced behind her as she was absolutely starstruck by his appearance. "You, what's your name" "Putangina..." Your other friend hang her mouth open as she glanced to you and at the man who was still staring intently at you. "Y/N L/N po..." "Y/N...Did you come here often? Well, now you should..." The man sounds too demanding which makes you feel a little irritated. "Huh? Bakit sino ka ba?" (Huh? Who do you think you are?) The man chuckles as he waved his cigarette. He tilted his head on his head as he points the cigarette to you. "Thomas, Thomas Shelby...Remember that, darling since starting tonight, at this very place where I reign, you're now my property."

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #modern au #filo au #filipino au #alternate universe #fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #bgc #Spotify

[justrainandcoffee]

When Alfie learnt that Tommy had a tortoise named Roy as pet, the torture began, testing his partner's patience.

From "there's a burger walking in the living room" to "that rock is moving."

And nothing is going to stop him. Only, maybe, the friendship between his dog and Roy.

Tofie masterlist

#alfie solomons #tommy shelby #moodboard #tofie #alfie x tommy #tommy x alfie #sholomons #tom hardy #cilliam murphy #modern au

[moral-terpitude]

Misadventures - 15.2

and it won’t be long • ‘til we drop this match • when I burn to your fingertips • you can throw what’s left

[Masterlist] [Series Masterlist]

Misadvetures taglist: @cillmequick @emotionalcadaver @zablife @raincoffeeandfandoms

Summary: The longest day ever only gets longer.

Word Count: 6,802

Warnings: Swearing, sight discussion of miscarriage and sexual assault, discussion of cheating, unwanted sexual tension, sexual themes, Tommy being a fucking idiot.

A/N: Ahaha, I'm grinning like a fool but, yall are gonna hate where I ended this. The clue of the Polaroids has been there since the beginning and this part is why.

“Are you alright?” Tommy’s reappearance almost startled her, although it shouldn’t have. It was his house. Who else would come looking for her in the bedroom?

She had retreated after a rather brief run (she wasn’t sure what she had thought she would accomplish with the stint on the treadmill other than becoming slightly sweaty and remembering why she didn’t run in the first place) to, despite the conflicting emotions jumbling around in her stomach, start to unpack. 

“No,” she didn’t intend to pout, but, seeing who Tommy might have stayed with had their shit not hit the fan made her feel so inadequate, piled on top of everything else that had happened, Quinn wasn’t quite sure how to feel, “not really.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry,” Quinn sighed as she hung the navy floral dress that she had bought to wear to dinner that night on the back of the door. In retrospect the boned bodice, slight gap at the thigh in the wrap skirt, and low cut of it may not have been entirely appropriate for a family dinner, but, she had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it, “you didn’t tell me she looked like Rosetti’s fucking Prosperine!”

That was what she was looking for earlier. 

Tommy took a deep breath, pacing the floor of what once had been their room. Nothing had changed except for it being devoid of all of Lizzie’s belongings, a thin accumulation of dust sitting on top of his own. 

“I’m sorry.”

She closed her eyes, letting out a breath, “It’s not your fault.”

Quinn fiddled with the back of the gold post, reminding herself if she pulled on it too hard the opal on the front would go flying off into oblivion, never to be found again, as her she opened her eyes, wandering the room, navy sheets turned down on the bed–

“Is that the same–” she was thankful when Tommy cut her off, because she was sure that speaking before she thought the sentence through and trying to find the rest of it as she spoke would land her spitting out the rest of the words in a rather obtuse way.

“No. I took the mattress out to the river and set it on fire.” There was a dark look in his eye as he spoke that didn’t make her doubt him for a second.

“Noted.”

“I have some things to go take care of,” he placed a hand on either of her shoulders, and Quinn groaned, interjecting before he could continue.

“Am I going to have to bandage you up when you come back, too?” 

Tommy could hear from the tone in her voice that she was trying to pass it off as a joke, but her face was intensely serious. 

“Hey,” one hand found the back of her neck, pulling her close before wrapping her into his embrace, “I always come back in one piece, eh? Only occasionally with some holes.”

“Oh fuck, they’re gonna Swiss cheese you,” Quinn wailed, burying her face in his chest, trying to take some comfort in at the way he pulled her closer, “in movies when people say that kinda shit they always come back tore to shreds.”

“That only happens when they aren’t prepared.”

She took a deep breath, appreciating the familiarity and comfort that she found in the smell of his cologne, the warm ambery smell lingering still in her nostrils as she pulled back to look at him.

“I’m going to try and not think about any of this new found information while you’re gone,” she nodded, as if the action would convince her it was okay to relax when she knew she would be worried sick, “maybe I’ll take a nap.”

“Pol said she was in the sitting room if you wanted tea.”

“Hmm, I feel like that’s a nonnegotiable invitation.” Quinn grumbled as he released her, pulling on the jacket draped over the arm of the chair that resided in the corner of the room. 

“You’d be correct.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

Quinn huffed, slumping down in said chair as the door clicked closed, pilfering another cigarette from the side table. 

Pursing her lips and watching the smoke roll to the ceiling as if it were some kind of incense she was burning, she realized that would have been a rather apt time for an exchange of “I love you”’s, but, she had sworn to herself as some strange rule that she was never saying it first in a relationship ever again.

She felt teary eyed and she hated it. She debated running a bath in the rather deep tub she had discovered while putting her toiletries away as an uncomfortable cramp twisted in her lower abdomen.

Letting her head fall back, staring intently at the white ceiling, as if it were going to open up and give her all the answers she was looking for, she took a drag of the cigarette, deciding it was best before letting the whole thing go to waste.

She had always considered the irregularity of her periods due to her birth control to be a blessing. They had never been a steady thing anyway, no matter what the doctors put her on, and it was a wonder that Gerard had managed to knock her up at all in the first place, but the drawback to what she had considered to be a win was that she was never prepared.

She left the butt in the ashtray, lit another, and made her way down stairs before she snuck out the side door, seeing that her phone was connected to the WiFi, that fun new thing iPhones did to share the internet password through proximity, and hoped, no pleaded, that whoever or whatever was up there would convince Dalton to stop what he was doing and answer the phone. 

“Mama, did your plane not just land?” He quirked a brow as Quinn padded barefoot over the stones in the circular drive, watching as Tommy’s vehicle finally pulled away. 

She tried her best to choke back the tears that pricked at the corner of her eyes. 

“Yeah and I think I’m way over my head here, Dee.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” She noted the genuine concern in his voice as his features softened, and she took a long drag off of the cigarette before responding. 

“You ever been to a house that doesn’t have an address?”

“What do you mean? Like the White House? We went there that one time on a field trip during band—“

“Dalton, this house just has a name. Just a name etched in a fucking cornerstone. It’s a whole fucking estate country house with horses and a pool and—“

“Oh, motherfucker is rich rich.” She was thankful when his assessment cut off her rambling.

“Yeah, I’m headed to tea with his aunt in my best lululemon leggings, so, wish me luck.”

“Oh sweet pea, I just hope you make it out alive.”

She felt her face fall, throat choking up as she blew smoke once again, “I would elaborate at how fucking ironic that is, but I don’t even have the words at the moment.”

Resigned to her fate, she made her way into the sitting room to see Polly was perched in the arm chair, flipping through the magazine in a way that Quinn knew was meant as a distraction. She wanted Quinn to think she hadn’t seen her, but from the air she had around her, it looked like she was upset that she had been kept waiting. 

Quinn was surprised to be met with the soft smell of Chai tea, the white and gold teapot with its coordinated cups looking rather picturesque on the tray in the middle of the coffee table.

“How was the flight?” Polly hadn’t looked up from the article her eyes were darting across, steam already rolling up from her cup, and Quinn took the hint that she wouldn’t be having tea unless she poured it for herself. 

She did her best not to slosh the liquid out the side of the cup, “It was as good as a flight can be. Not much turbulence, no crying kids. Just the adjustment to the time change is the worst of it.”

Polly hummed, “The back and forth takes some getting used to,” she discarded the magazine on the side table, “we’ve all traveled across the ocean enough times that it’s second nature at this point.”

Quinn took a sip of the tea, “Well, it’s not the first time I’ve flown. I was in Munich a few weeks ago for work. Thankfully, this time I was able to travel lighter.”

“Do you travel for work often?”

“Not regularly.”

Quinn did her best to muscle her way through more of the dry small talk, as they avoided all together the topic of why exactly she had to stitch John up on the dining room table earlier, and resisted the urge to down the cup of tea in an effort to move the exchange along at a rapid pace the more personal the questions got.

“Do you have any children?”

Quinn about choked on the sip of tea she had just taken before she weighed the cup in her hands. On one hand, she never wanted to discredit Robin’s existence in her life and she was sure Tommy never would have mentioned the situation to his Aunt, so on the other hand, what was the point of getting into it all right now?

“No,” she lied, as soon as she said the words the uneasy feeling in her stomach was tightening, betraying what she thought was the right decision, “I don’t.”

“Do you want them?”

Quinn could feel the cold sweat break out over her body. What did it matter to Polly? This was already something her and Tommy had talked about between themselves, why did she have to be so fucking nosy about—

“I love kids, I love my nieces and nephews, but I just don’t picture myself having any of my own.”

Polly hummed, returning her cup to the tray. 

“Let me read your leaves for you.”

Quinn glanced down into the now almost empty cup, realizing that this was a statement that she couldn’t quite refute lest she would probably offend the woman.

She nodded, swallowing, feeling an uneasy sensation spread through her body reminiscent of the time Dalton was determined to get her to play with an Ouija board in an old abandoned house off of a dirt road the summer before they went into high school.

She had thrown it in the trash as soon as they had gotten back home and it popped back up in his trunk a month later.

“Take the cup in your left hand, swirl the leaves around three times, and dump the liquid back into the teapot.”

“Okay,” Quinn whispered, trying to keep her face neutral as she did as she was instructed, while not feeling ridiculous, returning the cup to it’s previous home on the tray.

“Now, tell me what you see.”

“It looks like…” Quinn squinted, feeling an odd way about the entire process, “a nail.”

Polly shifted her gaze around the rim of the cup then deeper into the bowl, a disapproving noise leaving her nose as she looked, “So it does.”

Her eyes roamed the cup, and Quinn watched intently, “however, there’s an eye there, so that means protection.”

“What does the nail mean?”

Polly’s steely gaze met Quinn in what she could only describe as a haunting way, “An attack.”

“Well, I guess I know to keep an eye out now.” 

She did her best to keep the sarcasm out of her voice as she tried to get comfortable in the chair, wondering how long she had left until it could be seen as polite to excuse herself for a nap to recuperate from their travels.

“So, what is it that you want from Thomas?”

Quinn cocked her head to the side, brows furrowing, startled at the sudden forwardness that had been brought to the conversation.

So, that was the point behind all of this. 

“If it’s money,” Polly paused, the clove cigarette sparking to life, “I can tell you it won’t be gotten easily. Lizzie birthed him a whole daughter and only got the bare necessities out of the ordeal.”

Quinn snorted. She wasn’t too sure how Lizzie’s demand of a brand new car and a whole house of her own fell into the qualifications of bare necessities, but she had never pried much further into how their arrangement worked out other than what came up in conversation, so, otherwise, she would have to take Polly’s word for it.

“Grace, well—“

She felt like the air went cold around her at just the mention of Grace’s name. It wasn’t a conversation Quinn wanted to get stuck in, or to let on how much she knew about the situation. 

“I don’t want Tommy’s money.”

“You say the words, however, you look like someone who might.”

Quinn cleared her throat, shifting herself in the seat gently, “Well fortunately, for you, despite how I may look, I work 30 to 35 hours a week, and the going rate for a tattoo artist with my skill set in New York is around $250 an hour.”

Polly’s expression remained unwaveringly stern. 

“I don’t short myself.”

Quinn could see a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of the older woman’s mouth before she continued.

“Last year, before I had to pay out 30.6% in self employment taxes, I brought home $390,000. That’s from work made with my own two hands. That’s also before the commission I receive from the other artists who rent out portions of the studio. I also sell shirts, stickers, and patches online of artwork made from my own designs. So, don’t look at me like I need his money.”

The front door slammed closed, and she would have been relieved if it had been Tommy returning, albeit rather quickly, but, it seemed she wouldn’t be having such luck.

Quinn swallowed, thankful for the interruption (regardless of who it was) of who she remembered from the short glimpse she got of them, to be Polly’s son and his wife Gina, trailed by another girl that of course bore a striking resemblance to Michael.

Anna.

Quinn tried not to think too much about the information that Tommy had given her regarding their childhood, because, although she knew there was no way possible, she had this strange lingering feeling about Polly that she was able to read her mind.

It was silly, but the thought was there and it terrified her.

She couldn’t help but notice something that she saw in her own eyes for a long time when she looked at Michael and Anna, that look that something was buried deep down, kept secret and hidden from everyone else.

She almost wished she didn’t know.

Maybe other people still saw it in her too.

Quinn cleared her throat as she stood, giving the tea leaves a final swirl before she was completely righted in an effort to stop thinking about the exchange as a whole, “I’m going to go find the kitchen, get some water.”

Of course, the effort to dismiss herself wasn’t effective. She was a stranger in a strange land who apparently looked like she might steal the family jewels. How dare any of them let her wander the house of the man she was seeing unattended.

“Oh, I can show you to the kitchen.” Gina spoke, putting on a smile that Quinn could tell wasn’t well-intentioned.

Quinn nodded, not overly fond of the idea of being alone with her. There was something about the way she could feel the girl observing her that made her feel well past uncomfortable.

There was silence until they got to a set of stairs that seemed to descend in a way that one would enter an old cellar, sans wooden doors in the floor.

“The kitchen is downstairs?”

Gina scoffed, “The house is rather antiquated. It was built as a servants kitchen in order not to disturb the rest of the household and disrupt gatherings hosted by the lady of the house, as well as mitigating the risk of fire and keeping the house from warming more in the hot seasons.”

“Hmm,” Quinn trailed behind the girl down the stairs, biting into the back of the post in her lip in order to keep from saying any more.

Yes, let’s rub it in that I’m just some lowly little–

“So,” she posed her slender body with a hip against the counter, “what do you think about it here so far?”

“It’s been…eventful.”

Quinn wasn’t sure how else to describe the day in a positive light. 

Gina chuckled, rummaging around in her little bag before procuring a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“I’m surprised Tommy brought someone so, new, home so soon.”

Quinn shook her head, letting her eyes wander the subway tiles in the pristine kitchen, black marble counter tops and a whole other dining table, although not as elaborate as the one upstairs.

“What are you worried about?”

“Tommy just, well, as long as I’ve known him, seems to have a bit of the Devil in him.”

Quinn scoffed, opening and closing different cabinets before finally finding a glass, and filling it from the tap. 

“Well, good for me that I wasn’t raised Catholic,” Quinn took a sip of the water, getting in the only dig back she could come up with. Try however much she might there was no way Gina was distancing herself from the little bit of the Boston accent that came and went, which, only made Quinn’s mind bounce to wondering why Blake Griffin left the Pistons, went to the Nets, and then pretty well sat bench for the Celtics after returning from an injury, but, it wasn’t something she needed to concern herself with that much in that moment , “and please, don’t stand here and think you’re going to tell me something that I don’t already know about Tommy.”

“Oh, I know lots.”

Quinn smiled, “Well, I can assure you, I know more than you think.”

“I think if you knew as much of the truth as you let on you’d be on the next flight back to New York.”

Quinn could have let out the groan she was holding in. What was this girl gaining by trying to give her hell?

“What, are you afraid the novelty of being the only American in the family will wear off too quickly if there's someone else around?”

Gina squinted, taking a drag off of the cigarette, “You must be, what, a little older than me—“

Quinn resisted rolling her eyes, “I’m twenty-six.”

“Oh, fuck, so there is more of an age gap there than I had estimated.”

She gave up, rolling her eyes anyway, “Yeah, yeah. It’s not news to me that Tommy’s older than I am.”

“Let me guess, Daddy didn’t give you enough attention?”

There was a beat where Quinn let the words sink in.

“Excuse me?” Quinn sat the glass down on the counter, eyes wandering the white subway tiles that ran to the ceiling, as Gina’s redbottomed heels clacked across the floor, the quiet echo the only other noise in the room.

“Well,” her red lips parted, blowing smoke in Quinn’s face before continuing, the overall proximity of their closeness making the animal of Quinn’s anxiousness rear its ugly head, freezing herself between Gina and the counter as if there were nowhere to go, “someone doesn’t go to all of this trouble,” Quinn felt herself shudder as Gina ran the fingers of her free hand through her hair, the tip of one of her almond shaped nails finding the path of one of the lines etched into her neck that her mother had absolutely hated when she returned home to visit the first time after getting it done, the sensation feeling far too personal for someone she just met and wasn’t quite sure if she liked, “if they truly were comfortable with themself. You might be exotic looking and fun for now, but, just wait til he gets bored of you.”

Don’t freeze, Quinn. Freezing doesn’t get you anywhere. 

“I know if Tommy were here right now, you wouldn’t have even thought about talking to me like this,” Quinn whispered, staring Gina down as she slid herself from the compromising position, taking note, as she tried to assess the room between the two of them, or the lack of it, of the small bump under the flowing fabric of Gina’s dress, and deciding that it may very well be a necessity to fight dirty if she were willing to survive around here, “It sounds like you might just be jealous that you fucked the wrong part of the family, but, I’m the one that’s waking in the morning smelling like his cologne with his head between my thighs,” she clicked her tongue to the roof of her mouth, before turning to walk away, “so, remember that.”

She was a few steps away before she continued, ”Oh, and ya know, you should probably lay off the smoking. That’s frowned upon now-a-days.” 

Quinn cleared her throat, staring at her own feet, as she passed Anna in the opposite direction on the stairs. 

“Michael says he’s ready to go,” her voice was rather meek as she used the words to announce her presence to her sister-in-law.

“Good! Tell your brother I’m ready to get the fuck out of here.”

Quinn made her way back to the bedroom, checking the time on the clock to see that, with the few hours they had managed to kill with all the happenings, she should probably start to put herself together. 

The whole exchange with Gina left her head pounding, not at all looking forward to the dinner they were supposed to be attending all together.

The message Polly had given her about the reading of the tea leaves had also left her a bit flustered, causing her to get turned around somewhere looking for the stairs and have to find her way back to the entryway just to start over.

It must be wrong. It has to just be picking up on something from the past. Everything with Gerard makes sense for their being an attack and protection, so that has to be it.

Instead of dwelling on what she couldn’t control, for once, she started to put energy into getting ready instead. 

“Hi,” Quinn looked surprised as Tommy entered the bathroom, closing the door behind himself, “you are surprisingly covered in much less blood than I expected.”

He chuckled as she moved to the side, giving him access to the sink to wash the blood from his hands, as she unplugged the curling iron, checking that she was satisfied with every curl and line of makeup that had taken her much longer than she would have liked.

“Is he still in one piece?” Quinn whispered, watching the blood circle the drain until the water ran clear.

“Against me better judgment, yes.”

Quinn hummed, handing off the towel as Tommy shut off the water. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know if there’s Midol anywhere in the probably several bathrooms here, would you?”

Tommy raised a brow, halfway ready to shake his head.

“It’s, um, shit what is the base of it,” her brow furrowed, “naproxen sodium?”

She gave him credit for only the slight widening of eyes when he finally realized what she was talking about, “For monthly things?”

“Yes, Tommy, for monthly things.” 

“Doubtful that there’s anything here. I could have Ada–”

“No, it’s okay, I can just deal with it–”

“You can take the car. I think I left it run, honestly. There’s a Boots pharmacy by the Morrisons. There may be one closer. I just know I’ve grabbed things from there when Ruby’s been sick.”

Quinn nodded, stretching, watching him intently in the mirror behind her as he pulled the shirt over his head, discarding it to the floor, “Okay, can you just tie this up for me? I managed to get it tightened.”

“Hmm,” she watched their reflections in the mirror as his lips made contact with the side of her throat, skin flushing as she bit into her own lip, watching intently the way his muscles moved under his skin, “I’d rather not,” he took his time, mouth moving along exposed flesh before grabbing the strings at her lower back and giving them a hard tug, “but, if you insist.”

“Thank you,” she whispered the words against his lips before relinquishing a quick peck, realizing if she gave in to any more than that they would never be on time for dinner.

Quinn regretted the heels as soon as she finished tying the long strings around her legs, but, other than some flats and moccasins, they were the only thing that went with the dress.

“Bluetooth device already connected. Unable to pair.” The woman’s robotic voice came across the speakers as she adjusted the seat. 

“Stupid fucking car,” Quinn grumbled, fighting with her phone once again to get it to even show up in the Bluetooth menu, let alone get it to pair.

Already connected? No, it isn’t. 

She crammed buttons and clicked through the menu again. She wasn’t going to call Tommy to come fix it. He had already gotten in the shower and it shouldn’t have been that hard to figure out by herself.

After abusing the buttons on the console a few more times, she tossed the phone in her lap so she could see the map, searching for the pharmacy he had mentioned, and setting off without thinking too much more of it.

As she turned the corner onto the main road, to her surprise, his phone clanked around in the open console area under the radio. 

“Oh, fuck. Bluetooth device connected. That would be it.”

The screen lit up, showing there were three messages and a slew of missed calls. 

There were missed calls from Ada, Finn, and a few other businessy sounding contacts that didn’t really catch Quinn’s eye as anything more than a run of the mill day on Tommy’s phone. Which, to this point, not that she was much better, she noticed that it was something he could barely live without.

But the messages, those, were from a contact named May Carleton. 

May, from what Quinn had picked up from bits and pieces of information, trained Tommy’s horses. It had never struck her as anything unusual, until that moment.

Quinn sighed, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in her gut, continuing on down the route her phone was taking her. However, it pestered her all the way to the pharmacy. 

She threw the car in park, sinking down in the seat, and tried to tell herself to mind her own business. For fucks sake, they were here, partly, to watch a fucking horse race, so it only made sense that the horse trainer would be messaging him.

About the horse.

Unfortunately, logic didn’t win in her mind.

Her heart hammered as she swiped the screen, no prompting for a passcode because it was still connected to the car. 

She tried to take a deep enough breath as she scrolled past the message mentioning what room the woman was staying at and in which hotel, and she wanted to slam the whole fucking phone into the concrete when she reached a nude photo of the woman in front of a mirror, red robe open with everything on display, tan skin, brown hair, red lipstick. 

Everything she wasn’t. 

She nodded, seeing red and swiping back down. She was good at this kind of thing. Torturing herself. She still would catch herself sometimes, however not in a long time, searching, unblocking, and scrolling through Gerard’s instagram, looking back at how happy they had been, trying to figure out what had gone wrong.

Other than the obvious.

Can’t stop thinking about the last time you were here. Can I see you again when you’re back for the races?

Only if you wear that dress you know I like. 

That I can do. 

“Well, it sure fucking seems that you’d prefer her wearing nothing at all, fucking Thomas Michael.” Quinn spat, continuing down to the messages that had just been received, “Christ he’s so fucking arrogant, that dress you know I like. Fuck!”

Her eyes could barely focus on the words, whether it was from the tears that threatened to crest over her waterline or the, just short of, rage that was coursing through her veins each time her heart hammered in the cage of her chest, she wasn’t quite sure.

I’m staying at Mallory Court for the night, it was all that was available. It’s rather quaint for something so cheap.  

I’m in room 26. One of the suites. 

Will I see you tonight?

Quinn ground her teeth as she weighed her options: 

She could go there and confront the woman. 

She could go retrieve Tommy and go there and confront the woman. 

She could go get her shit and go to the airport. 

Or 4. she could go back and leave his phone in the car and act like nothing ever happened. 

The last one wasn’t even a desirable option, because it wasn’t something she would be able to live with herself if she did. 

She opened the map, putting in the destination as the hotel, and slammed the car in reverse. 

“Tommy, you fucking dolt, where’s your phone?” Ada yelled down the hall after trying to call her brother the entire drive to make sure everyone was meeting at the house before going out to dinner, but now, her phone started to ring as if he was calling her, as he stood before her on the stairs, brow furrowed. 

“Hello?” 

There was some rustling and a sniffle, “Ada, are you at Tommy’s? Is he there?” 

Quinn couldn’t help but let her voice waver a tad, try as she might to be strong and firm, she just wanted to punch both this May and Tommy in the fucking face at the moment. 

“Yes, he’s right here,” Ada pulled the phone from her ear, clicking it onto speakerphone before Quinn continued. 

“Okay, well, I’ve discovered I have another errand to run,” she clicked her tongue to the top of her mouth, “somewhere called Mallory Court. That should be enough information for Tommy, shouldn’t it?”

Ada watched her brother as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, nodding before pulling the undershirt he was halfway into over his head. 

“He’s nodding. That’s all I know, Quinn.”

“Thanks, Ada.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, retreating to the bedroom and returning with a sweatshirt, realizing there wasn’t time to finish getting ready before fixing the mess that was already starting to unfold.

Quinn hung up, allowing Ada to attack her brother with her hand bag, each blow accompanying her monosyllabic sentences, “What? Did? You! Do?!”

“Fuck, Ada, calm down, eh?” He let out a sigh, scratching at the nape of his neck. “It’s just a fucking misunderstanding, alright. Let me borrow your vehicle. I’ll go grab John, we’ll get it sorted.”

“You fucking better,” she said through gritted teeth, “you fucking better fix this Tommy, because I actually like her.”

The hotel itself was terra cotta, and, as the message said, rather quaint. The grounds were manicured nicely and the flower beds hadn’t lost their plumage to the fall weather yet.

Quinn walked in with the determination of a woman who knew exactly where she was going. Heels clicking across the floor as she tried to pace herself, heart hammering in her chest at the impending doom that had settled in the back of her mind. 

She was glad she had already dressed for the dinner they were attending that evening, the floral dress with its boned bodice and low cut top was enough to draw attention. To make her actually look like a woman worth fearing.

She was sure it wasn’t intentional, but she could feel eyes on her as she passed through the lobby.

She looked down, the scar from the old gem hidden behind the new one in her chest and realized some of the staring may have just been at her general appearance anyway. 

26. 

She knocked three times on the door, firm and succinct, the way Tommy always knocked, and waited. The door cracked, the same woman from the photos standing there in a plush robe with a look of confusion on her face.

“Hmm,” Quinn didn’t have much else to say. She had hoped she had been wrong, that it was all some misunderstanding, but there she was, this woman, in the flesh in front of her, “of course.”

“I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Quinn could feel her legs turning to gelatin as her heart raced in her chest. 

“Actually, yes. I’m just curious,” Quinn shook her head as Tommy’s phone vibrated in her hand, glancing down to see John trying to call him, “how many of the people you train horses for do you fuck on the side? Is that free or is it included in the price?”

The woman’s brow furrowed, crossing her arms over the plush white robe. 

“Excuse me. Do I know you?”

Quinn sighed, taking a few steps forward, her presence pushing the woman back into the room, not liking that in less than a day here she had to revive this mean-spirited part of herself that she had worked so hard to separate from, one that used to get in fights at bars and wouldn’t think twice about breaking a beer bottle over a drunk man’s head for looking at her the wrong way, “You wouldn’t know me, but I know you. I know of you anyway.” she held up Tommy’s phone, wiggling it in the space between them, scrunching her nose, “I know you’re May Carleton who is staying in room 26 at Mallory Court. So, maybe you should let me in and we should have a chat.”

She swallowed hard, backing into the settee at the foot of the bed as Quinn stood boldly in the space.

It was taking everything in her to keep her shoulders squared and chin up, but the tension of her muscles seemed to be what was keeping her focused on not losing her mind completely and tearing the woman and everything in the entire room to shreds. 

Trust. 

The word popped into her brain like a punch to the gut. She had let Tommy in so quickly and it had been so easy. And now what? 

“Would you like a drink?” The words came out strangled as May maneuvered herself from between Quinn and the seat, like someone fighting to pull their way out of a too deeply dug hole. 

“I don’t drink.” Quinn wandered the room and picked up the hem of the floor length dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door, letting the fabric fall from her hands as she roamed the room. 

“Well, a woman like you with Tommy Shelby, I can’t believe you don’t drink.”

Quinn wasn’t sure which way to take the implication. 

Maybe Tommy was difficult to deal with. 

“What exactly does a woman like me look like to you?” Quinn cocked her head to the side, eyes roaming the woman's features as she waited for a response.

There was silence. Quinn wasn’t used to being taller than most women, but it seemed the heels she had picked had been a good choice. 

“Do I look like an idiot for you to think I don’t understand what’s going on?”

“At the moment, yes. You haven’t a clue what’s going on here.”

“Oh! Between the naked photos, asking what dress you should wear, and providing what room you’re staying in, I think I know exactly what’s going on here.” Quinn counted each part of the statement off on her fingers before shifting her weight to her other hip.

The woman hung her head, biting into her bottom lip. 

“You’re here, waiting for him, in a robe with nothing else underneath. That’s what’s going on here.”

Quinn let her eyes wander the room. For a woman who seemed like she was trying to seduce a man, it wasn’t like she had put in much effort into making the space look much more alluring than a plain hotel room. She at least would have lit some candles.

“I’m not one to throw around threats that don’t have any weight behind them, but if you don’t leave him alone, there will be fucking hell to pay,” she paused, “I will make sure of it.”

Quinn wasn't sure in what way there would be hell to pay, but, she wasn’t intending to let it be an unfulfilled threat either, so she would just have to cross that bridge if they got to that point.

Three knocks at the door that hadn’t quite latched behind them had both the women looking to see Tommy standing in the doorway. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she grinned, “did I interrupt your liaison?” Quinn crossed her legs as she dropped herself into the seat and leaned back on the cushions, giving a bored sigh as she looked at her nails, the rings on her fingers, and then back up to Tommy’s pained expression. 

“Quinn—“

“No, no. Don’t let me interrupt. Carry on. As if I wasn’t here.” She gestured for him to enter the room. 

“I’ve come to retrieve you. That’s it. To keep you from—“

“What? Finding out the truth? Causing a scene?!” She stood, glancing briefly at the red vase on the table, filled with flowers, before grabbing it, testing the weight of it in her hand for a moment before whipping it at the closet door. 

Unsurprisingly, it shattered, water and broken glass pooling at Tommy’s feet before she continued. It made her feel bad, for a moment, but something about letting out all her pent up frustration about the way the day had been going also felt very good.

“You. You,” She pointed at Tommy, closing the gap between them, the brand new set of nails that she had gotten done the day before leaving glimmering in the light, “laid in my bed, and you fucking lied to me. I asked you if there was anyone, and you fucking lied.”

She was nose to nose with him, trying to keep an even temper.

“Quinn—“

“I’ll tell you what,” she backed off and looked between May’s startled expression and Tommy’s neutral one, “It might just be easier if I let you sort this out amongst yourselves, it seems you have some catching up to do, and if I play my cards right, I’ll be on a plane back to New York in a few hours, so.”

Quinn turned to depart, all intentions of brushing past Tommy simply and heading into the hallway, but he waited until she was next to him before he spoke. 

“John’s already taken the car, and I have the keys, so you’re not going anywhere.”

She swallowed thickly, taking in the way Tommy’s face changed as May laughed. 

“You.” He pointed at her, closing the gap between the two of them, and her expression grew sharp, “If you contact me again about anything that isn’t business, I’ll break every contract we have and walk. I’ll pay out the money and find someone else, because I don’t need you. I made a mistake doing anything that wasn’t business with you, Mrs. Carleton.”

Quinn watched tears prick at the woman’s eyes as she covered her mouth, nodding feverishly as Tommy turned, brushing past her to leave without another word. 

Quinn didn’t look back as she tried to catch up to his quick stride leading down the hallway. 

“Tommy,” she could tell from the way he walked he wasn��t pleased, an innate ability etched into the inner workings of her brain from always feeling as if she had to read Gerard’s mood to figure out if it was a day to walk on eggshells or not, “I—“

“Don’t.” The elevator door dinged, and he took a steadying breath, not even chancing a glance in her direction, “we’ll talk about it when we get back.”

“Oh, you’re right we’re—“

“Quinn.” 

The evenness of his voice told her to quit while she was ahead and regain some composure lest she fly off the handle and cause a bigger scene in the lobby of the hotel.

She wasn’t crazy, but the mood she was in, she wasn’t above jerking the steering wheel and sending the vehicle off the road either. The thrum of embarrassment flowing through her body with every quickened heart beat.

Has everything up to this point really been a lie?

The next part is nowhere near ready, so you know, but, tell me what you think! I'm sure there will be plenty of screaming in some way shape or form!

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