Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader
Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.
Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism
Additional Information :
> takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers)
> written in third person perspective (she/her)
> 847 words | 6 minutes
Author's Note :
decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3
"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.
Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"
John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.
Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.
Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.
He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.
Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.
Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.
Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.
Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.
Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.
"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.
Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.
She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.
"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.
Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.
Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.
"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"
"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.
As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.
"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.
In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.
The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.
However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.
"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.
She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.
John Shelby has a chance to save a woman who once was the bane of his existence. What happens when he realizes he actually starts having feelings for her?(Rewritten and reuploaded. I grew as a writer and decided to add to their story)
Prologue
Appleby-in-Westmorland, Cumbria, in Northern England
1902
Seven year old John Shelby was out enjoying the fair with his brothers and sister Ada. They duck and wove through throngs of densely packed people until they had made it to the river where the Lee, DeGhant and Gold family were bathing horses and camping.
Vardo's off all colors and clan dotted the landscape and made for perfect hiding spots from other children, and her.
The warm June air cracked with the electric energy of youth and young John was on a mission.
He was hiding and trying to get away from his stalker. His brothers were amused and teased him that they should have a wedding by the river.
John didn’t think it was funny. They had been camping and selling horses in the fair for two days. One more day to go and he would be free of the annoying five year old blonde DeGhant girl. He leaned forward around a Lee caravan. She wasn’t in sight. Good. With a sigh of relief he stepped out in confidence that she was finally tormenting another victim.
He stepped out with the confidence of a rooster. His strut increased and his head held high as he approached his mother who was in a lively discussion with Mrs. Gold about hedgehog stew and other forest treats that had been in abundance this winter. He was almost to the safety of his caravan when a shrill little girl voice rang out.
Like a rabbit crossing paths with a fox, he froze and stayed comically still.
“John Shelby! I found you! Now chase me!” The girl giggled and slapped him in tag, as she raced toward the river as fast as she could. The dirt clouded around her as soon as she realized that she was playing alone. She stopped and turned her head to gaze at the scowling face of her beloved childhood crush. . A pout adorning her face as she stomped. “John Shelby! You're a rat’s bottom.” She crossed her arms and stomped off to the laughter of John’s Uncle Charlie and his fathers booming chuckle.
“John Shelby!” His mothers usually sweet voice was firm with a warning. John closed his eyes and sighed. He could cry.
Why wouldn’t this annoying flea leave him alone?
Whilst "playing" the day before, he'd tossed a frog on her lap while she sat on a stump eating stew. The amphibian had jumped at her chest causing her to scream like a banshee, tossing the bowl into the air. He'd laughed as she'd been baptised by the cool liquid. Chunks of lentils, dried peas and onion dripping from her shoulders.
He'd thought it to be the most delightful sound. When he'd looked around however he wasn't met with the same amusement. Arthur and Tommy were snickering. Ada was frowning.
Then she let out the most pathetic cry he'd ever heard. He felt his mother's presence behind him before her index finger and thumb ever gently pinched his ear lobe.
He’d gotten a good cuff against the head and was immediately marched, red faced and head hung low, to her family's encampment.
To add insult to injury the little brat stuck her tongue out at him! He looked at his mother, who was waiting for him to obey and apologize. He was weighing whether or not another punishment would be better. He said the words loudly as he was shoved forward towards the wheat blonde beast.
When all the adults spoke of approval to the Shelby matriarch John leaned in and lowered his voice so only she could hear.
“If I catch you, you little river rat, I'm throwing you in and watching you drown.” He said as he lunged at her to begin the chase. She yelped with excitement and took off like a bullet enjoying the fact that she won.
“John Shelby, mind your manners!” His mother called. It was too late. John was far enough he couldn’t hear.
(Sabrina is from my 3 witches cursed trilogy series but I just love their playfulness when I write them together in a scene. I think with both of them being fun loving,cheeky and young spirited it would make for a great couple. In this series Sabrina is original to the world, not a time traveler and I made her an only child. Enjoy. )
In the shadow of giants, six year old Lydia Shelby proves that courage comes in all sizes.
[Part of The Lydia Saga]
The cobbled streets of Small Heath were alive with the sounds of a bustling day, a cacophony that painted a vivid picture of daily life in this vibrant part of Birmingham. Market vendors bellowed their wares from behind wooden stalls, their voices competing with one another in a bid to attract customers. Freshly baked bread, ripe fruits, and an array of colourful fabrics were just some of the treasures on display. The air was thick with the mingling scents of fresh produce, roasted meats, and the occasional whiff of coal smoke from a distant factory.
Children darted through the maze of adults, their laughter ringing out like the sweetest music. They played games of tag and hide-and-seek, their joy unburdened by the worries of the adult world. The rhythmic clip-clop of horse-drawn carriages added a steady beat to the day's soundtrack, while the faint clink of glasses and the murmur of conversation drifted from the open door of the Garrison Pub, where patrons sought respite and camaraderie.
Among the children was Lydia Shelby, a striking figure with her bright blue eyes and unruly dark hair that framed her face in wild, untamed waves. She was a miniature replica of her older brothers, though her features still retained the softness of childhood that had long since been etched away by the harsh realities of life for her siblings.
Lydia was lost in her game of hopscotch, her delicate leather shoes tapping out a rhythmic pattern against the uneven cobblestones. Each leap and skip seemed to lift her further into a world of her own making, where the only things that mattered were the chalk-drawn squares and the simple joy of play. Her giggles rang out like tiny bells, echoing down the narrow street and adding a layer of innocence to the otherwise gritty surroundings.
The market's vibrant noise began to fade as an unspoken tension gripped the air. Conversations stilled, and the clatter of commerce dulled to a murmur. Heads turned and eyes widened as a sleek black car, polished to a mirror shine, rolled to a stop in front of the Garrison Pub. The vehicle, an imposing presence amidst the horse-drawn carts and pedestrian traffic, seemed to absorb the light, casting an eerie shadow over the cobblestones.
A hush fell over the street, the silence broken only by the creak of the car door as it opened. Billy Kimber emerged first, his sharp suit impeccably tailored, accentuating his lean, muscular frame. His eyes, cold and calculating, swept across the scene with the precision of a hawk. He moved with the confidence of a man who knew he commanded respect, his very presence a silent threat.
Behind him, his men followed, each one a mirror of their leader’s predatory demeanor. They fanned out, creating a semi-circle that seemed to cordon off the area, their eyes scanning for any sign of the Shelbys. Kimber's face was a mask of determination, his jaw set as he prepared to confront his rivals. The air seemed to thicken with each step they took, the tension rising like a gathering storm.
Lydia, oblivious to the shift in the atmosphere, continued her game. Her small figure, clad in a simple dress, darted from square to square, her laughter a stark contrast to the growing unease that enveloped the street. She was a picture of pure, untainted joy, her world still untouched by the darker elements that lurked in the shadows of Small Heath.
Kimber’s gaze landed on Lydia, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Lydia looked up from her hopscotch grid as the long, dark shadows of Kimber and his men fell over her game, casting a chill despite the warm day. Her bright blue eyes blinked up at the unfamiliar faces, her expression more curious than afraid. Her unruly hair bounced as she straightened up.
Billy Kimber, sensing the girl's defiance, allowed a slow, amused smirk to spread across his face. He crouched down slightly, bringing his sharp, predatory eyes level with Lydia's. "Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "A little girl all alone."
Lydia’s eyes narrowed slightly, her stance shifting as she planted her small hands firmly on her hips, a stance that was unmistakably Shelby. Despite her tender age, there was a steely resolve in her gaze, a flicker of the same fire that burned in her older brothers. She tilted her chin up defiantly. "I'm not alone," she said firmly, her voice steady and clear. "My brothers are inside."
Her unwavering gaze unsettled some of Kimber's men, their eyes darting between the girl and their leader. But Billy Kimber was not so easily intimidated, especially not by a child. He crouched down to her level, his eyes narrowing to scrutinize her more closely. "Do you know who I am, little girl?" he asked, his voice a low growl that usually elicited immediate submission.
Lydia nodded without hesitation. "You're Billy Kimber," she stated simply, her tone devoid of the fear that usually accompanied his name. "You run the races."
Kimber's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "That's right. And do you know why I'm here?"
Lydia shrugged, a gesture so casual it bordered on insolent, her small shoulders lifting and falling as if to say that his presence was of little consequence to her. "You're probably looking for my brothers. But they're busy."
One of Kimber's men chuckled, but it was a nervous, hesitant sound, the laughter of someone unsure whether to be amused or alarmed. Kimber's smirk faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He was accustomed to fear and respect, not this calm defiance from a mere child. "Busy with what?" he asked, his patience thinning, his tone sharper now.
Lydia’s eyes met his unflinchingly, her voice carrying an edge of pride. "Busy being Shelbys," she replied, as if that explained everything. And in a way, it did.
Kimber's eyes darkened, his amusement giving way to a simmering menace. He extended a hand, intending to ruffle Lydia's hair in a gesture meant to assert his dominance rather than convey any genuine affection. His fingers, adorned with rings that gleamed ominously in the daylight, reached towards her.
But before he could make contact, Lydia took a deliberate step back, her eyes locked onto his with a mixture of defiance and warning. The movement was subtle, yet it spoke volumes. Her small frame seemed to grow taller, her presence more commanding, as if channeling the collective strength of her family.
"You shouldn't touch me," she said softly, her voice steady and clear. The softness of her tone contrasted sharply with the steel in her words. "My brothers wouldn't like it."
Kimber's hand hung in the air for a moment, frozen by the quiet authority in her voice. He slowly retracted it, his fingers curling into a fist at his side.
At that moment, the door of the Garrison swung open with a force that made the hinges groan in protest. Out stepped Thomas Shelby, flanked by Arthur and John, their presence immediately commanding the attention of everyone in the vicinity. The three brothers moved with a lethal grace, their expressions murderous, their postures taut with barely contained fury. The atmosphere grew dense with a palpable tension, forewarning of the storm that was about to break.
"Kimber," Tommy began, his voice slicing through the air like a blade of cold steel. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Each word was enunciated with an icy precision that sent shivers down the spine of anyone within earshot.
Billy Kimber straightened up, attempting to reclaim his swagger now that he was facing adults. His sneer was a thin veneer over the unease that gnawed at him. "Just having a chat with your little sister, Tommy," he said, his voice carrying a faux lightness that did nothing to mask the underlying threat.
Tommy's gaze turned to ice, his eyes narrowing with a deadly calm. He took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. The intensity of his stare was enough to make even the bravest of men falter. "Keep away from her, get back in your fucking cars, and leave," Tommy said, his tone a low, menacing growl that left no room for misinterpretation.
Kimber laughed, but it was a hollow sound. He knew better than to push his luck with the Shelbys. "I'll see you soon, pikey," he said, but there was no real conviction in his words. With a sharp gesture, he signaled his men to follow him back to the car.
As the car sped away, its engine roaring and tires screeching, a cloud of dust hung in the air, slowly settling back onto the cobblestone street. The square, which had been a tense battleground moments ago, began to return to its usual hustle and bustle, though an undercurrent of unease still lingered.
Lydia stood frozen for a moment, watching the black car disappear around a corner. The adrenaline that had surged through her tiny frame started to ebb, leaving her legs shaky and her heart pounding in her chest. Her earlier bravado was giving way to a wave of relief.
She turned and ran to her brothers, her small feet making soft, rapid taps against the cobblestones. Tommy, Arthur, and John watched her approach, their expressions softening in unison. Tommy crouched down just as Lydia reached him, and with a gentle but firm grip, he lifted her into his arms. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against his chest.
"Good girl, Lydia," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the tension that still clung to the air. "You did us proud,"
Lydia's lips curved into a small, proud smile as she wrapped her arms around Tommy's neck, seeking the comfort and security that only her brothers could provide. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "I know," she said confidently, her voice a mix of lingering fear and newfound courage. "I was brave, just like you."
The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting an amber glow over Small Heath as Tommy took one last vigilant sweep of the streets for any lingering danger. Satisfied, he turned and carried Lydia towards the Garrison, Arthur and John close behind. As they stepped inside, the familiar scent of whiskey and smoke enveloped them. Lydia, nestled in Tommy's arms, exchanged a glance with John, who walked just behind them. She smiled, a mix of relief and affection, and John responded with a warm grin, ruffling her hair gently. Inside the Garrison, with the comforting hum of conversations and clinking glasses around them, the weight of the day's tension began to lift, leaving them with a fleeting sense of tranquility.
Summary: Your first encounter with Thomas Shelby, and your relationship between the two of you a month later.
WordCount: 3.1k
Stable, was all you could say about your relationship with Thomas Shelby. Relationships with him weren’t unknown but there were very few who stuck around for longer than just a night. Thomas was one who sought after you, after that faithful day at the Garrison; you shouldn’t have even been there but your father insisted. However he said to stay in the car and wait, after this little meeting with the man who fixed a race; you needed to get your dress for the derby the following evening. Remembering that day like it was the night before.
“Right, he’s the oldest, you’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you cos’ you’re looking me up and down like I’m a fucking tart”
The door behind your father creeks, and he turns his head before lowering it in disappointment. Thomas, Arthur, and John all move in their seats to look at the person, John put his hand on his gun belt along with Arthur.
“you’re just like your mother.”
Kimber notices their hands on their gun belts, clearing his throat and gently pulling you behind him he looks at them.
"I'm gonna have you shot against a pole if you don't take your fuckin' hands off the guns. She means no harm; just insanely impatient."
Thomas noted your small frame and waved for his brothers to stand down.
"Women ain't part of this deal, Kimber." pausing, looking back at you "You and I both know that all too well."
"So, why'd you bring her in the first place?"
"Well, I thought this bloody meeting would be over quick, didn’t I? Instead of wasting time going back home to fetch her for those measurements for the new dress for the derby tomorrow, I just brought her here. Told her to stay in the car, didn't I?”
“You said it would be over by 10, it’s 11 now!”
Gritting your teeth and biting your tongue before you said anything else, but Thomas stood up and asked Kimber to move so he could see you.
"Is this what you handle? All day long?" Thomas stares at you, eyes cold and calculating, before turning the Kimber, his voice low and dangerous."Is she with anyone?"
"Oh, bloody hell no, she's not dating unless the lad can offer her what I've given her growing up... and that ain't happened yet, has it?"
“No..no it hasn’t”
“Kimber I’ve never seen her at the races before, you hiding her?”
Kimber looked at him before smiling
"She stays put where I'm at, see? She don't get the choice to wander when I ain't around."
Clearing your throat, and standing in with your back facing your father. You spoke up about your feelings.
"‘E's fuckin' stupid, that's what it is."
"Another reason why she can’t walk around, she runs her mouth like a bloody sailor. It makes me look bad."
Kimber runs his fingers through your hair and fixed it to his liking
"Oi, what's her age, then? Legal, ain't she?"
Kimber thought about it for a second, before nodding and saying you’re nineteen.
"Aye, you reckon you can handle her, lad? I'm warning you, she may seem calm now, but she ain't one for stoppin' and listenin'. It's like there's no brain up there, I tell ya."
You bit your tongue before deciding it was worth it.
“I have a fuckin' brain, I was top of my math class”
"Sweetheart, I'm just givin' you a hard time about it. I know you're extremely smart with numbers, but actin' proper, is where ya’ struggle."
“Should I meet the description of what you want in a partner, then I shall court her to seal this deal. Sound like a plan?"
Thomas sat back down his chair and pulled out a cigarette and lighter then lighting it.
“It'd be a smart move, but it's her call. 'Cause this is for your gain, not mine."
His eyes fixed onto yours
"Tell me, love, what's your verdict?" Thomas exhales smoke slowly, his gaze unwavering, piercing through the veil of the Garrison.
And the rest was history, the derby ‘date’ went outstandingly well for us. Thomas was very kind and generous with you, your father even let you and him walk around alone instead of being cooped up in the box you normally sit in. The deal was agreed upon after that day and he could see I was delighted to have someone different to talk to besides him or the maids. The most memorable thing of that day was the kiss you shared after he said goodbye to you, it felt real and intimate and not like it was false. Thomas learned you really loved riding horses, painting, and of course cooking. Meeting him felt like putting the last piece of a puzzle together.
Stopping by the Marquis Pub on your way home, well Thomas’s home. One of your favorite bartender Nicolas Tennant was in that pub and you loved talking to him about your relationship with Thomas and how it was going. You felt like celebrating for an odd reason but why ignore it.
“Ello’ Nicolas how’s the family doing?”
Nicolas looked up and stuck his head out from behind the bar top, with a great big smile that could cut through paper.
“Oh, miss Kimber how are you doing today?, and the family is doing well”
“I’m feeling really grand to the point where I feel like celebrating”
The both of you chatted and caught up with each other’s lives and then you asked;
“Do you happen to have a bottle of red wine and Irish whiskey?”
He smiled at you once again before nodding his head and turning around to head to the back of the pub. Suddenly, you felt a sense of despair and pain looming over you and you turn around to see a man who’s about a foot taller than you and drunk.
“I’ll pay you £10 to have you for the night, come on baby what’do ya say~”
“No, thank you. I’m not one of those”
“Every woman is if you pay them enough, come on..”
“I’ve said no! I’m seeing someone!”
"Oi, come on now… I'm tellin' ya, I'm taller than 'im, stronger, faster, and bigger, yeah? Jus' give me a chance, love. Why you wastin' time with 'im? I got the money. Don't be daft, let's 'ave a good time, eh? You won’t regret it, I swear!"
Taken aback by this statement you leaned into the bar top, but you couldn’t move any further. The man wrapped his hand around your waist and brought your hips against his. You put your hands up against his chest and pushing away from him.
Nicolas walked back to the bar top with the liquor in a brown paper bag. Shocked by the sudden change in the atmosphere he spoke up;
“Are you fuckin’ suicidal mate?, that’s a Kimber!”
The man pushed off of you and stepped back, beads of sweat started to roll down his face. He immediately looked at you and got on his knees to beg for his life. It was truly disgusting, you felt dirty. The man noticed your face and decided it would be better if he just left and he did, leaving the pub. Looking back at Nicolas he was sweating as well, he knew that his life was on the line since this happened in his presence. He puts the bag with the bottles on the counter and then says;
“Now, it’s on the house for your troubles..”
“Oh, you really don’t have too, but can I borrow your phone in the back?”
“Sure go right ahead”
The adrenaline rush of what just happened was still rushing through your veins, felt like an adaptation of a stroke mixed with a heart attack. The feeling of being in a state where you couldn’t defend yourself was playing on loop, reminding you that you’re weak. Picking up the phone and sitting down on the desk in the dark and dimly lit back room picking up the receiver and dialing Cheshire 9210. The phone rang twice before picking up and on the other end was Thomas.
“_______ where are you, e’s everythin’ alright?”
“….there was a problem with some guy and-“
You could hear Thomas’s breath exhale when he heard that, cutting you off he asked in a tone that was masking his true nature.
“_______ what’s the man’s name?..”
“I don’t know the man’s-“
You heard a door creek and looked in the sound’s direction, it was Nicolas; apparently he was leaning against the door and pushed it open. Red in the face he looked at you.
“His name’s Lenny Davis, he’s one of my regulars”
Smiling and mouthing the word thank you before waving your hand for him to go away.
“It’s Lenny Davis..”
“Alright, that’s all I needed”
Thomas hung the phone up, you sat on the desk for a couple of minutes before hopping down and heading back into the public space. Nicolas looked like he was already writing his last will and testament. Bless his heart you thought, his pub was a lovely one; maybe you could have him spared since he had spoken up to the man.
“Stop, calm down..I won’t let Thomas go this far”
You said while pointing around the pub, the Marquis was a lovely pub and you loved talking to Nicolas.
“Your all too kind to be in this town”
“I know..”
You stood in the front driveway, just standing there for a bit while look around at the cars to see whose missing. He was..great. But it wasn’t all bad at least you knew Ada was there. Oh how you loved talking to Ada, she could understand the feeling of being a Shelby and having eyes on you as soon as you left the home.
You still were getting used to the Arrow Head House, it was a bit bigger than your childhood home. You’d moved in a week after being with him. He wanted to be able to watch you more than anything. Possessive little fucker.
“_______, where on earth have you been?”
“Ada! Oh it’s so good to see you!”
Ada opened her arms and walked over to you, giving a big hug.
“Whatcha’ got in that bag?”
She asked while pointing to it.
“Whiskey and red wine”
“Did yah buy it?” Ada started to walk into the hallway making a signal to follow. “You know Thomas doesn’t like when his woman buys things for him that he can get for himself..”
Pausing and placing the brown bag with the bottles in it on one of the hallways side tables.
“That’s the fing’ i got ‘em on the house”
“How did ya’ fuckin’ do that?”
“Thomas didn’t say anything about my whereabouts?”
Ada rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.
“That’s the fing’ you know they don’t tell me anythinf”
Sighing you picked up the bag and pulled out the wine bottle.
“We can mull it over with this, because yah gonna need it.”
“Alrigh’ I’ll be in the den waiting for you..”
Time passes by and eventually you come down the grand staircase in a set of nightwear that had been embroidered with little roses. Thomas got it for you. You joined Ada in the den.
How many of ‘em left?”
“Obviously, Thomas but John, Arthur, Finn, Micheal, Isaiah and Jonny Dogs..”
Ada took a sip of wine, letting it mull over in her mouth.
“What fuckin’ happened?”
You smiled and held I finger up while taking a sip of wine as well.
"I was at the Marquis, fetching the whiskey and wine, and while I was waiting, some drunkard named Lenny Davis started pestering me. I felt utterly disgusted with myself because I could have called out for help. But he took me for a prostitute and kept pushing, relentless. It wasn't until Nicholas returned and shouted that I was a Kimber and a Shelby associate, that Lenny finally backed off."
Ada’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she took another sip of wine.
“Yeah, he’s fucked..”
“You swear they didn’t say anything to you before they left?”
“_______, honey I love you a lot but I told you what I know..which is nothin’..”
Ada stood up and held her finger up before the wine glass down and disappearing into the hallway, you heard her rumbling footsteps as she came back to eyesight. She had a small pink little box with a ribbon tied in a bow around it and it was white.
"Oh, how could I forget. Your father paid a visit earlier to leave a gift for you. He stayed for a little while but then left with them once Tommy got off the phone wit’ yah.”
Ada handed you the box and you placed it by your side.
“He joined them…?”
“I know right, it felt odd seeing ‘em all, for one reason..it looked like a circus act watchin’ pile into the car”
Suddenly you heard the unique sound of an engine purring, Ada and you froze. Looking at eachother’s eyes, both standing up. Ada picked the bottle up and poured the rest of the wine into both glasses.
“I knew this bottle wasn’t going to last this night..”
You heard the car doors shutting.
“Please don’t let there be a lot of blood on their clothes”
Ada rolled her eyes while setting the glass down.
“_______, honey I love you but you always ask for the obvious to not happen.”
“Are you sayin’ I can’t have hope?”
“Hope isn’t a thing if you’re a Shelby”
The grand entrance doors opened with help from the maids. The footsteps only got louder and louder as they all made their way to the den. You looked down at the carpet, then where they would be coming from.
"Don’t you dare come into this room! I do not want blood on my carpets! You and your lot can clean yourselves up outside first!"
Thomas spoke up with a small laugh.
"We weren't planning on bringing him in there, love. Don't worry, we'll sort it out elsewhere."
"You brought him into our home?! Look at the state of you!” then it finally registered that this man was in your home "YOU BROUGHT HIM INTO OUR HOME?!" you hissed, your eyes wide with alarm as you glanced nervously at the bloodstained men entering the house.
This man was..roughened up while they were on their way to Arrow Head..he wasn’t dead but he just..there. The smell of iron started to fill the air causing you to cough a little. Alarm bells rang through your head when you looked at Thomas..his were shaking a bit, knuckles were bloodstained. Your father stepped through the group as his looked at your face, he could tell you were afraid. Kimber fixed his shirt collar. Drenched in sweat, god it looked disgusting. Thomas spoke up and a dry voice.
"My love... he hurt you. He chose death for doing so."
"Get him out of here, Thomas! I won't have you bringing that violence into our home!" You hissed at him , your voice trembling with anger and fear.
"I'm just protecting you. None of this would be possible without me by your side."
"That's not the point, Thomas! I can't bear to watch a man die in front of me, especially not like this!"
"Alright boys, take ‘em to the basement. turning to look at the empty wine bottle and then Ada. Ada, I recommend you leave me alone with _______”
Thomas stood in the dimly lit room, the weight of his actions hanging heavy in the air. His love, shaken and wide-eyed, had just seen the aftermath of his brutal world—a world he had always tried to shield them from. The tension was palpable, the room thick with the scent of blood and the echoes of violence. Seeing the fear and distress etched on their face, Thomas felt a pang of guilt. He stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, a stark contrast to the chaos around them. “Look at me.”
"All I ever wanted was to protect you, love. Everything I do, it's for you."
"Thomas... you frightened me. You know I can't bear seeing what those men look like after you've dealt with them."
He gently reached out, his calloused fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. With a tenderness that seemed almost out of place for the ruthless leader of the Peaky Blinders, he guided you into his arms. “It’s alright,” he whispered, cradling their head against his chest, his hand moving to stroke your hair in a rhythmic, calming motion. Thomas took a deep breath, his own heartbeat steady and reassuring. “You’re safe,” he continued, his tone firm yet comforting. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever.” He paused, letting the silence stretch for a moment as he gathered his thoughts.
“I know what you saw was…horrible,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “This life, it’s not what I wanted for you to see. But sometimes, it’s necessary.” He pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and sincere. “I need you to trust me. To believe that I’m doing everything I can to protect us. To protect you.” His hand continued its soothing motion, petting your hair as he drew her even closer, creating a cocoon of intimacy amidst the chaos. “I would burn the world to the ground before I let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, yet each word resonated with fierce conviction.
In the embrace, he allowed you to lean into his strength, to find solace in the arms of a man who, despite his ruthlessness, loved you with an intensity that defied the darkness surrounding them. The world might be brutal, but in that moment, with Thomas holding you, you found a sanctuary where fear had no place. He cupped your face in his hands, his touch firm yet infinitely gentle. The roughness of his palms contrasted with the softness of your skin, a reminder of the harsh world he inhabited and the tenderness he reserved solely for you. His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, wiping away the trace of a tear.
“Look at me,” he whispered, his voice low and steady. “I need you to know how much you mean to me. More than anything.”
With a final, reassuring stroke of your hair, he leaned in, his breath mingling with hers. The kiss was slow, deliberate, and filled with a thousand unspoken promises. His lips moved over yours with a tenderness that belied the brutal world outside, each kiss a silent vow of his love and his regret for the pain he had caused you. He poured everything into that kiss—his need to protect you, his sorrow for your distress, and the fierce love that drove him to such lengths. His hands slid to the nape of your neck, holding you gently yet securely, as if anchoring you to him in the midst of the turmoil.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath coming in steady, calming waves. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, his voice rough with sincerity. “But I swear to you, I’ll always be here. Always.” In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had happened, the kiss was a beacon of their connection, a testament to the strength of their bond amid the darkness.
Author Notes:
I made the little pictures and added smoke along with the little sparkles! Oh my gosh it’s so freaking cute!!
Please don’t harp on me for the phone number and yes it’s at the arrow house instead of the beginning of where they stay, Thomas just made bank after you became a couple.
