" Shunned and Outcast "
dynamic; finn shelby x Gold!reader
word count; 1.3k
content/warnings; fluff, angst maybe??? (but w comfort), swearing, no use of Y/N, fem!Romani!reader, fem!Gold!reader, post-season six, pre-immortal man, Peaky Blinders spoilers!!!, attempts to be canon compliant but no promises 🤭, not proof read (SORRY 😔😔)
author notes; HI HI!!! I'VE NOT WRITTEN FOR FINN IN SOOO LONG BUT I WATCHED THE IMMORTAL MAN AND MISS MY BOY SO WE BACK. ps, finn better be in the next season to overthrow duke or so help me like bro he's the last shelby left wdym he wasnt in the film??
Duke had kicked Finn out of his own family. Finn was a fucking Shelby, dammit! Who was Duke to exile him? He just showed up out of nowhere and started following in Tommy’s footsteps!
John, dead. Michael, dead. Ada, politician. Tommy, god knows where. Aunt Pol, dead. Arthur, gone mad. The Shelby name was in absolute shambles and Finn was at a loss. His family was all he knew, having been raised by Pol and Ada. But now he’s lost them. Oh, and Mary, sweet Mary, he’d had to leave her in Small Heath alone in his rush to escape.
Finn Shelby was alone. Almost.
He had you, a Romani Gypsy from the Gold family. He’d ran to the countryside in the hopes of finding solace and instead found you; a relative of Abarama and Bonnie. Finn was boxing the same time that Bonnie was so he was already familiar with your family. Over the past few months, a routine had silently been built between the two of you.
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The caravan was rather homely, but nonetheless cramped. “Ow- shit!” Ritual is the only way you could describe the way Finn Shelby hits his head every morning when waking up. You’re surprised he’s not tried sleeping differently.
“Careful, Mister Shelby. You’ll end up with a concussion.” The words tumbled from your lips before you even thought about what you were saying, second nature by now to tease the young Shelby. “Are you hungry? I’m about to go feed the horses, but I can feed you first if you want breakfast.”
“I thought I told you to stop fuckin’ callin’ me Mister Shelby, Gold. It’s just Finn now. An’ I can make me own bloody breakfast.” He began to sit up on the sofa that’s been his bed for months now, slowly stretching out his arms to shake off the sleep. “But yeah. Yeah, breakfast, I guess. And a cuppa. Please.” You were surprised he actually used his manners for once, maybe he’s evolving. Or ill.
You shot a quick grin at him with a nod. “I’ll make us some, uh, bread and eggs, then. Yeah? Yeah.” Almost automatically, you began working on breakfast. You could see Finn in the corner of your eye starting to get dressed, tugging on his tank top as he began to move around the crowded caravan. For a kid who’d grown up out of touch with his Romani history, he’d adapted well to the lifestyle. Being on the road took a bit of getting used to, but the company of the Gold family was something that helped him adjust.
It was weird not having his family to support him in life changes.
Finn had moved to lean over your shoulder as he watched you work in the make-shift kitchen in the caravan. “Smells good, Goldie.” God, what a stupid nickname. “What’s the plan for today then, hm? Have a ride out on the horses? Maybe go into town?” It was sweet how eager he was to get up and out. “Sorry, ‘m distracting you.” Finn almost immediately curled back into himself, shoulders hunched as he shuffled along to make two cups of tea.
“Stop that. The whole, uh…your shyness. You’re a Shelby, Finn. Brother of the Rom Baro. You don’t needa make yourself small like that. Not with us.” He relaxed, shoulders rolling back. You brought a hand up to his hair, fingers running through the growing strands. “You wanting me to shave this yet, Finny? You can grow it out if you want, apparently unshaved sides are in fashion.”
“No. No, I don’ wanna shave it yet. Might grow a beard, too.” He flashed a toothy grin, running his own hand through his hair. He was kidding, of course. Finn had always hated having too much facial hair, it made him look like his father. “Unless you think I should let it grow? Hm, maybe get a handlebar ‘stache? Mary used to tell me to grow a mustache. Said it made me look mature.” The air shifted, and his movements slowed.
You had never met Mary, but you’d seen the photo he keeps in his trouser pocket. Finn didn’t speak of her often with you, but you overheard the conversations he had with Bonnie. He asked after her frequently, Bonnie said she moved on. He didn’t talk to anyone for days after that.
“You, uh, you miss Mary still?” The question hung in the air for a while. It was loaded.
The clatter of tea cups against the counter echoed around the caravan momentarily before Finn cleared his throat. “No. No, I ah…I’m past that. She’ll have found someone else by now.” His fingers went to rub his hand, tracing where his wedding ring should be. “Mary’s better off far away from me an’ my fuckin’ bullshit. S’not like Tommy ever liked her, anyways.” He sniffed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand as he reached over to grab a slice of bread you had buttered. “You gonna read my leaves later, or what, Goldilocks?” He glanced up at you, lips pursed as he stared at you expectantly.
Finn had always changed the subject when it got too personal.
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You sat beside the horses, hand running through the mane of your brown shire horse. The sun was high up in the sky, hidden behind bundles of fluffy grey clouds. The grass beside you folded as Finn moved to sit beside you, moving to lean against his own horse, a black Friesian horse.
“I’ve sent some letters to Ada, told her ‘m with good company, that ‘m safe.”
What? Finn hadn’t reached out to his family since he left. Why now? Does he want to go home? Is he planning something? What if the Peakies find out where he is, if they’re after Finn you and your family could get hurt. What was he thinking? “Uh…I’m sorry? You’re contacting Small Heath? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
“Technically, Ada lives in London.” If looks could kill, Finn Shelby would’ve died from the glare you gave him. “....right, not the point. She’s my sister, Gold, I can’t just not talk to her. I mean, she didn’t excommunicate me, fuckin’ that.- stupid little shit Duke did!” If your pointed brow wasn’t an indicator that he was getting worked up, his horse moving away certainly was. “Great. Now even my horse is pissed.”
“Shelby. Contacting any of the Peaky Blinders puts us at risk. I need you to think for longer than two seconds of nostalgia. You can go home when Duke is dead, an’ so far Bonnie says he’s still kicking. Do you understand me?” You almost felt bad upon seeing the look on his face.
Finn dipped his head, slipping his flat cap off as he ran a hand through his hair. His bright blue eyes dimmed upon hearing your strict tone. Maybe you were a bit too harsh, but he needed to hear it. His shoulders slowly slumped as he let out a low exhale. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s fair. I just miss them. ‘m not used to being alone.” He glanced up at you before he continued, “and don’t spout some ballocks about me not being alone because I’ve got you. ‘m not yer family, Goldie. I’m a Shelby through and through.”
“Finn, c’mon, don’t be like that. We’re not family, sure, but we’re sumthin. I’m letting you stay in my bloody caravan. I’m harbouring an excommunicated Blinder, that ain’t nothin’.” You leant back, hands braced behind you as your prairie skirt fanned out across the blades of grass. “You’re not alone, you’re just not a Blinder no more.”
You could see his eyes soften as he leaned back to lay on the grass. “You’re a saint, Goldie. Don’t know how you put up with me, ‘m all kinds of fucked up.”
“I knew what I was getting into.” You could feel the grin starting to spread across your face, gently nudging Finn as your infectious smile transferred to him.