My first Peaky Blinders fic, Between the Shadow and the Soul ,is officially 3 years old!!!
So to celebrate my 3 years in this fandom I am throwing a party.
Everyone is welcome to attend and encouraged to bring their OCs
(yes i am doing this again because yours truly somehow mistook 2020 and 2021)
You can send a request (gifs, songs and pictures welcome) for a blurb/drabble or a moodboard with the only requirement for it to contain one or all of the following:
🕯- prompt or title summarized in 3 words
🕯- something dark and/or supernatural with a motif of 3
🕯- take any of my Peaky Blinders OCs (limit is 3) for spin
🕯- 3 pictures 1 word (where you either send me 3 pictures and i guess the word or i post 3 pictures, and you guess the word)
*add 🎯to make it a poll and see what wins*
🕯- lets play fuck, marry, kill (or alternatives to it)or two truths and a lie *add 🎯to make it a poll and see what wins
🕯- What Would Eva Do? WWED (Ask Eva a question)
🕯- Caption This!: where a pic or gif is sent and i caption it (can also be a caption sent in via ask and if three or more people decide to caption it we make it a poll and see which one wins)
Same rules apply for any gifts you guys wish to give for the occasion and for tagging purposes the tag is 3va's party and will not be peaky exclusive because Eva couldn't be limited to just one show and has her whole evacore universe
Diane's masterlist: dianecore
Thank you for 3 years of fun and friendship y'all 🖤
Cw:mentions of sex and torture methods very M-rated
Taglist @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife
“He can wrap a garrote ‘round a man’s balls in less than two seconds.” Eva is head over heels over her gringo.
Her grandfather would be spinning in his grave.
Really, its embarrassing how much she wants this man.
“It takes me five, four if I’ve gotten the party started.” her cousin, the handsome and enigmatic spy currently fending off bold heiresses by the dozen, whistled in approval. “And when did your gringo tell you?”
When Eva felt the scarring in his balls as they desecrated the confessional, but alas she cannot say such things.
Not to Santiago anyways.
Oh, why did she have to be the only girl born in their age group?
All her female cousins are much older or far too young.
Only one cousin is married, and his wife is her former lover.
Antonia might take offense at having her gush about Jack and his talent for murder. She used to hate it so when Eva would go on and on about Diosdado, from his pretty eyes and the way stole that silver filly for her in Texas.
Funny wasn’t it, so desperate for friends here when she used to have so many in her home country.
She is supposed to start over, find people she likes and create a network of people they can use to gain control of high society.
In a society that views them as oddities and something that doesn’t belong there.
But she must make the effort to get the Boston elite to love her. No, not love, adore her so that when Jack goes into politics and their son becomes President not a single bad word is ever said about them.
“Church, and at his place. We hit it off and chose a pattern for the china and all that.” Eva answered hoping he didn’t see through the half-truths.
“If he backs out of the deal and you’re pregnant, you’ll be married off to that Republican in New Jersey, Evita.” Tiago warned and she dismissed it when she saw her gringo walk into the ballroom.
“He won’t back out, I’ve seen it. Your godson will be youngest President of the United States, mark my words.” The witch couldn’t help but give her groom her most radiant smile.
And sure enough, the wedding is an affair to remember.
All the who is who of Boston and even New York and the Pope himself blessing the union. She is decked out in the family ruby parure, and Eva is sure Boston is out of red roses because Jack bought them all for her.
They aren’t in love, but something tells the witch its just a matter of time.
How could it not, they were perfect for each other?
“He’s got more whores than you have shoes, prima.” Santiago whispered before offering a last chance to back out with a false identity and his place in Casablanca.
“Not after me. There won’t be any other women after me.” The witch said kissing his cheek goodbye.
“Do you think Abe and Mary ever did any of that?” he asked as they lay head to toe on the massive bed.
Their honeymoon in Florida had been wonderful, and for the rest of their stay in Washington DC, they make good use of Abraham Lincoln’s bed. A reward for giving the First Lady good news regarding the ill health of President Wilson after Eleanor Roosevelt confided in her about Eva’s clairvoyance.
Jack had not wasted a moment to show how proud he was of his woman for scoring them such an invitation and continued to teach her every trick every whore had shown him.
The witch had ridden his face while she sucked his prick better than any woman he’s had, or so he said teased after she’d swallowed every drop.
Keep his stomach full and his balls empty, that had been the advice from her senile English granny.
And Eva had put it into practice.
He won’t stray, his secretary will get tired of waiting and resign. His favorite whores will seek other protectors and any woman dumb enough to try anything, will find themselves with terrible luck.
She won’t kill or hurt them, just let them know she could do so with absolute impunity.
Jack is hers, only hers.
“Who’s to say, maybe that’s why she went mad after his death.” Eva quite liked the view, both of them naked and him tracing idle patterns on her scarred ankle, but she preferred his broad chest over any pillow the world had to offer, so she moved back to the head of the bed and kissed him better than any French whore ever could.
Antonia had taught her to kiss like that, learned it from her younger sisters’ French governess, the young and sapphic, Madame Delacroix.
Jack tasted of her, and she of him, and if Abraham Lincoln was anything like Eva’s Jack, it’s a surprise the Lincoln’s only had four sons.
“I think I love you.” Jack says so earnestly she believes it. It is much easier to fall in love with a witch than for a witch to fall in love with said person, one had the risk of being accidentally beguiled by the magic radiating from their lover.
Eva doesn’t say it back, instead she changed the topic, kissing him again and again so he knows his words haven’t affected her want of him. “I saw something just now.”
“Hm, what did the Holy Pythia see?” he asked between kisses and wrapping her closer to him.
“The youngest president of the United States being made on this very bed.” The witch answered knowing she’s going to leave this room with a limp and he forgetting she didn’t say it back.
When Eva hears it again, Jack is drunk as hell.
He had gone out to some club he took over and celebrated like old times. Jack had risen high, but he missed the violence, the adrenaline and danger of his former life.
Tonight he let the beast out and showed Boston he was still Jack Nelson even if he was now a Wall Street Stock Broker putting her gifts and his together to make them richer than they ever were.
He had tried to fuck two dancers, pretty things who thought they could make him forget her, but they hadn’t. even if he closed his eyes, the brunette couldn’t be Eva nor could the blonde get a rise out of him no matter how long he’d had her.
“Got harder thinking about the woman I got at home than the one licking my cock. The other one said I must really love you if my prick wouldn’t stay hard no other gal except you.” He undressed himself and said this as if it were a great demonstration of his feelings for her.
Given his history, it was apparently.
But she loves his brutal honesty, knows that Jack wouldn’t hesitate to call her out on her shit and expects her to do the same.
They are equals, even if he pretends otherwise to keep his reputation.
“So, you love me?” the witch asked him. She should say it back, they have been married for nearly six months and Eva should be sure of her feelings by now.
But she isn’t, between the babies and getting to know every facet of Jack, she puts off seeing if what they have is love.
It will come, she knows. And she is fond of him and cares for him dearly, she isn’t ready to call it love.
Mainly because the last time she truly let herself fall in love with someone, they married her cousin and led her to a downward spiral so awful she let herself get caught in hopes Carranza would just shoot her already.
“Yeah, wouldn’t be here with you if I didn’t, sweetheart.” He answered honestly, inhibited by the alcohol and totally going to forget in the morning when he wakes up with a hangover from hell. “You’re the only one I want since that day in the church.”
“Even now that I’m pregnant with twins?” Eva teased him enjoying the show he was giving her.
He’d lost his shirt on the stairs, kicked off his shoes just inside the bedroom and tossed her his undershirt as she waited in bed.
“Even pregnant with the future president of the United fucking States of America and his VP.” He answered gesturing for her to undo his trousers only for her to refuse.
He did try to fuck other women, after all.
“I love you.” He said in a whisper once he got in bed with her.
“Tell me when you’re sober, Jack.” Eva responded and he promised to do so. Good thing he won’t remember this in the morning.
Jack had involved Eva in his business before, but always at home where he could go on to claim it was his genius that led to his success and never his illegal ones.
“No. It wouldn’t benefit us for him to die so soon.” The witch comments after he, his right hand and Wild Bill of the White Hand Gang discuss the best way to deal with the Italians.
They had been offended by the woman sitting on his lap until she showed off her talents by making the glass in Bill Lovett's hand shatter with just her eyes.
She was his secret weapon and while the glass shattering would still have them doubt her ability, they knew better than to try and find out.
Good thing they had come home from his club. If they knew Jack allowed her to speak to him like this, they’d lose their fucking mind.
“Us?” the gangster asked, trailing his hand up her chest, caressing the soft tan skin and wrapping his hand around her neck knowing she cannot stand that. A small payback for when she called him Jackie as she goaded him into chasing her around wearing nothing but his shirt earlier.
He cannot back out of this like that, not after they threatened his family and his life a month ago. Things with Eva had improved, including her as an advisor in these things had given her a purpose beyond pretending to be the perfect American wife.
She had learned business from books, from her family and hired professors to teach her. Eva had also learned strategy during her time in the war, using her gifts to their advantage at every turn. A useful thing when it didn’t contradict him, like now.
“Changretta didn’t just come for you, he came for the both of us. If you want to win, you gotta let me play the game with you.” The witch answered masking the discomfort of having his hand on her throat with a sultry breathy tone before dropping it entirely. “Besides, the White Hand made its deal with you through Dinny Meehan not Lovett, Lovett knows you’re a threat to him and will sooner frame the Black Hand for your murder than let you run the Irish Mafia like you intend.”
No wonder the president and Pancho Villa had gotten tired of her, who wanted a girl telling them what to do. Jack already fights the rumors that he’s gone soft now that he’s a husband and a father.
Though if you ask him, they're just envious that Jack’s got a woman who makes Beauty Queens feel dowdy.
The Irish of New York had posed less of a threat, choosing to ally with him than fight him. They’d agreed to join in on erasing the Black Hand out of the picture for a cut of the cake.
Especially after Sadie Meehan correctly guessed it was Bill Lovett who orchestrated Dinny’s hit and had him murdered right next to her in their own bed.
Jack would be lying if he didn’t fear his Evie suffering the same fate.
“Then what do you suggest, oh holy Pythia?” Jack didn’t trust Wild Bill nor his brother-in-law anymore as far as he could throw them and this plan to strike the Spinietta Family now that Luca’s back on American soil required a whole lot of trust.
“We wait. Solidify your gangs so when the blessed day happens you won’t even break a sweat or have to watch out for knives in your back.” She moved his hand off her neck and let it wander down the half-buttoned shirt, daring him to divest her of it entirely. Nakedness wasn’t something Eva ever felt bothered by.
Her beauty was as much as a weapon as that diamond encrusted knife she straps on her thigh.
“What did you see?” Jack’s fingers undo the first of the buttons, letting her think she’s won.
She uses sex to manipulate him, doesn’t take a genius to know it.
But he lets her, knows the witch does this to secure some power for herself. She has whatever power he gives her here, where she cannot wave her name or money around to exert her own.
Not yet anyways, the day will come when society will just have to bend its knees and realize how wrong they were to discount him.
Us, the witch’s voice seems to correct him even in his mind.
“Lovett’s getting killed by his brother-in-law in three years and Lonergan will lose the waterfront a year after that, Luca Changretta gets his brains blown out by the man Grace will kill Clive for and New York ripe for the taking that same year.” His wife leaned back on her hands and uncrossed her legs giving him an unobstructed view of herself as the shirt fell open. “I have seen all that and so much more, and if you want it to come true, you have to let me play.”
Jack snaked his arm around her waist as he slotted himself between her long legs cutting off any chances of her bolting when he reminds her what the agreed on.
She’s done it before, when he does something to displease the spoiled goddess she runs off leaving him to use his hand instead of her for release.
“You drive a good bargain, doll. But we agreed, my game my rules.” Not that he won’t take her sage advice, just incorporating it into the plan. “I will keep my plans and take your advice, I will give Changretta a reason to run back to his old man and meet his maker there. Don’t you worry about it, darling.”
March 1921
They’d lost but somehow come out on top.
There’d been some losses in the New York Mob, Luca and his men lived to see another day and yet Jack had gotten the Spinietta Family to call for a truce when he got the last Sabinis in New York to high tail it back to London.
Luca had been given the same treatment he gave Jack six years ago before Jack let him go.
Election night seems to reflect Jack and the White Hand’s offensive on the Spinietta Family.
The Republicans had won the presidency and the gubernatorial race, and yet these cocksuckers had their wives eating out of her hand.
The First Lady had been told about her clairvoyance and Calvin Coolidge had been so impressed about his future as the 30th president of the United States, that the Nelsons were becoming the must know couple in the state, if not the entire region of New England.
Everyone knew who she was, loved her so much they forgot she wasn’t a white woman and now hosts a ball for the man who thinks balls are too frivolous to have.
Jack doesn’t know why taking over society isn’t enough for her.
“Same reason you keep your gang even after no longer needing it, because it’s just not enough.” The witch whispered as they arrived at a charity ball she'd done to replace the President’s Inauguration Ball. “I am so much more than your damnably charming wife, Jack.”
As he remembers with great fondness how he made Luca beg for his life as he taught Eva how to wrap the garrote around his cock and balls, he cannot help but agree. “That you are, doll, that you are.”
The feeling of her silky hand in his as Luca held back his agony was something he’d never thought he’d enjoy so much.
They’d fucked there as the Italian laid there in agony and ,God, Jack wants to bring her with him when he's reminding people not to fuck with him.
Perhaps, it was a good idea to make her a fellow player in his games for power.
A/N: Dinny Meehan was the leader of the White Hang Gang, a group of Irish gangs in New York who cretaed themselves to fight of the Italian Mob, the Black Hand.
Luca and the black hand family he worked for are fictional so in this fic they take the place of the real gang.
Dinny Meehan was murdered in his home in 1920, his wife Sadie in 1923 told the fbi she believed his right hand Wild Bill Lovett had him murdered, Wild Bill in 1923 was then murdered by the Black Hand in a hit orchestrated by his brother in law Richard 'Pegleg' Lonegran. In 1925 teh White Hand lost their territory to the Black Hand.
Jack is looking into taking New York as he has secured the gangs of Boston just as Tommy sought out London after taking over Birmingham.
William Hardying was president from 1921 to 1923 when he died of a heart attack, he was a republican and succeeded by his vp, Calvin Coolidge who had been the governor of Massachusetts until 1921
Things are better between them even if the issues remain there in the background.
Eva’s been told to take it easy by her midwife, the doctor and Jack himself as they ready the house for tonight’s party.
“Let Alice and Mary do the rest; you heard the midwife its not good for the two of you to overwork yourself like this.” He has half a mind of tying her to the bed if she refuses to sit down and relax.
The midwife said Rosie could be expected in early September since the boys came early, so now all babies will do so too. Eva determined to make sure their last celebration for the summer is the headliner in the neighborhood newsletters and the twat who keeps trying to shove her off the children’s hospital charity will eat shit when she sees the Democratic Gubernatorial Candidate attend it.
“I’ll rest if I’m tired, Jack.” She dismissed his concern even as she looked ready to collapse. “I’m fine.”
She has fainting spells, from the picky eating the baby already displays, and that thing her shellshock does that when she is overwhelmed, she just passes out cold.
Eva holds onto the back of the chair for support, tries to keep herself steady and promptly faints dead away.
“We can cancel the party.” He suggests once the doctor left.
It was a combination of the heat, the stress of the party and Rosie just being difficult.
He’d prescribed bedrest, was Evie gonna do that?
No, instead she was ordering Jack into helping her dress for the evening.
The gangster wasn’t complying, so she’d done it herself.
“No, everything’s done. I just need to make sure it goes off without a hitch.” The witch said putting on a very patriotic red dress.
She favors dark colors, black especially, but makes an exception to make a good impression.
Last year had been a quiet thing since the boys were still too little for them to do much, and this year was meant to make them the direct competition to the neighborhood’s top socialites.
Eva had the advantage of money and powerful connections while what’s her face had been born and raised in this neighborhood. She knew Eva was seeking her crown, only she thought she had a chance.
“You heard the doc, you’re on bedrest until the baby is born.” He reminded her and she rolled her eyes at him.
“You do know that means no fucking either, Jackie dear.” She used that nickname he hates so much.
The priest used to call him that, the bullies in the schoolyard, the gangsters he rose up against and even the people who refuse to let him into their circles.
Nothing ever gets under his skin as calling him Jackie does.
“Don’t call me that, Evie.” He warned trying to keep himself from flying off the handle. “For a nurse you make a shit patient.”
“On other news, water is wet.” She tried to be witty but only came out rather annoyed. And she was, could’ve just said take it easy, but the doctor had said Eva was to stay in bed until the blessed day came.
“I’ll have to tie you to the bed if you don’t behave, sweetheart.” And yet he doesn’t stop her, instead helps her put on her shoes. “Try to enjoy yourself and let Carrie and Gina do the rest.”
Caroline Nelson had married an Adams, named after the president who made the family what they are, and while a pain in the ass was a good enough hostess. Gina had become ornery, hating how she was still an outsider in her new family, hating the way she was now at the bottom of the food chain.
Unlike Eva, she didn’t have a shining personality to overcome it. Every day she turned more and more into a vile combination of Carrie and Jack.
A cutthroat snob that would be useful if she studied something like economics or politics, but Jack refused to agree to send her to college after high school. Even after knowing his wife had a private education in Mexico City because money can buy you professors even when women aren’t admitted to university, Jack refuses to allow it.
“Easier said than done.”
They have done this before.
She’d timed the pains and when they became alarmingly close and painful she made him drive her to the hospital instead of calling the midwife and doctor here.
This time Eva’s too in pain to argue with the suggestion of having a home birth.
She’s afraid of complications, of dying because help came too late, but man never does anything God doesn’t want him to do and Evie is no exception.
“The midwives are on their way, sir. Mary and I are taking the boys outside, so they don’t hear---” Alice’s words are cut off by Eva’s cries of pain.
She stands behind a chair, unable to lie down as the contractions appear worse than the first.
The witch had refused the twilight sleep offered to her at the hospital and have them just yank the babies out with forceps like most women do claiming she thought it unsafe.
Now she curses everything under the sun in several languages as there is nothing available to even minimize the agony she feels.
“She’s coming.” The witch shuts her eyes and sits at the edge of the bed. “Oh, fuck, Rosie’s coming.”
In the next second Eva barks orders at Alice and him because babies aren’t born on schedules.
It is the longest and shortest time in the world for him as Eva tells him and the maid what to do.
By the time the midwives come, Jack’s holding their baby daughter in a bloody towel with everything from his clothes to the bed ruined.
But it doesn’t matter, Rosemary Eve Nelson is worth everything and more.
“September 2nd 1920 ,
Mr and Mrs John Fitzgerald Nelson announce the birth of their third child, a daughter, named Rosemary Eve after her late grandmother, Rosemary Kennedy and her mother, Eva Smith.
Mr. Nelson delivered his daughter himself on his twenty-sixth birthday as she came far before the midwives could attend her mother, a former nurse.”
He reads the announcement just as he had done when the boys were born.
Only this time they had to demand a reprint when Eva learned only Jack was being credited for the feat.
Really, they had to intimidate a man because he thought it superfluous to mention Eva was a nurse and knew what to do.
“Most people stop at three.” She mentions knowing he’ll say no.
The church had ruled contraception as inherently evil and while most claimed not to use it, many still did.
Eva had learned Jack was as much as hypocrite as your average catholic. He’d used sheaths when fucking whores to prevent diseases and bastards, and yet claimed Eva was committing sin by getting a Dutch cap in homes of keeping a good amount of time between children.
Unfortunately the thing didn’t work, but Eva won’t stop trying to have some control over herself.
“Most people haven’t been told they’ll have nine fucking kids by god himself. But God didn’t say we had to have one every fucking year.” The birth had scared him, truly scared him by the sound of it.
He hadn’t seen what was going on at the other end and now he’d gotten a front row seat to the shit show.
That had helped get him to see reason.
They would be adding using contraception to their list of sins.
It wasn’t like they were going to heaven ---if it even existed--- anyways.
A/n: Republican Channing Cox won the election for governor of Massachusetts, but since Jack is a democrat he and Eva would be sort of campaigning for the democratic candidate thus forcing the guy to come over to their house for a party with mysteriously sourced alcohol.
While Rose Kennedy was made to close her legs (cutting off oxygen to Rosemary thus almost killing her and impairing her for life) while waiting for the doctor, Eva has had midwifery training in the middle of a war so Jack and the housekeeper/head maid were given a crash course in how to deliver a baby.
Rosie will still have disabilities, just not due to birth complications as she did irl.
Next up the Wall Street bombing of 1920 while the Nelsons have a lover's quarrel across teh street from it
Cw: pregnant sex, wet dreams, somnophilia, vaginal fingering, p in v sex
It hadn’t been intentional.
Jack would’ve let her finish her nap unmolested if she hadn’t murmured his name like that.
With four children and a fifth(and sixth) on the way Eva was prone to dozing off.
And jumping his bones any chance she got, eating anything sugary they had, and complaining about losing her figure again.
She’d cried petulantly for giving her a Mother’s Day gift that became his Father’s Day gift.
“Jack,” she’d murmured and then pressed herself against him, seeking out the friction like as she humps his leg like a bitch in heat. “Please, baby, fuck me.”
The witch got wet dreams sometimes, better than the nightmares he thinks. Jack wasn’t surprised to feel her cunt already soaking through the fabric of her knickers when the hand on her waist crept under her dress to confirm what he already knew.
Definitely better than the fucking nightmares by far.
She’s already cooking, might as well make use of the privacy. No nosy neighbors, the children all being taken care of by the nanny and the maids, just him and his insatiable wife in the backyard.
“So needy for daddy, aren’t you, doll?” he coos as his rubbed her pussy through the fabric. The gangster had been wanting to try this, to see how long would it last before the sleeping beauty woke up thoroughly fucked.
He’s copped a few feels before and knows she doesn’t mind him doing it. His witch won’t mind this, he thinks as he slipped the underwear aside and stroked the genie’s lamp carefully.
“So wet, so tight for me, aren’t you, doll?” doesn’t take long before his fingers are wet enough for Eva’s pussy to take them in with ease.
The sleeping beauty was not disturbed by the intrusion, in fact began to ride his hand in her sleep. Her barely coherent words turned to the moans and sighs he knows so well, he could be blind and still he’d know just where to touch his witch until she burst from the pleasure.
If he could just move into a different position, he could bury himself into her, fuck her softly until her own orgasm wakes her up.
And he does, she stirs slightly as he shifts on his side to be in the perfect position to fuck her awake.
“Such a good little whore for daddy, letting him use you like this.” Jack teased the head of his aching prick against her clit until he was sure she would feel every inch of it as he pushed inside of her warm wet pussy.
Eva's face scrunched up in pleasure and tightened around him as beautifully as if she was awake.
She was close, her eyelids fluttering and her consciousness growing in tandem with his thrusts. It wasn’t long before his name was going from a drowsy groan to broken cry and he’s spurred on when it starts to become a shout.
“Fuck, Jack, could’ve just shaken me awake.” Eva says once she’s fully woken up as he continued using her to finish himself off.
Warnings: use of ethnic slur, slight racism, canon typical violence, heavy petting, implied sex and some slut shaming and double standards
It was Roosevelt’s idea and while Jack owed him a great deal for his success in business, and now politics, he was not going to let anyone choose who he takes to wife. He didn’t need some prissy princess with as much personality as a wet mop or some venomous bitch who will hate his guts forever for the crime of being born poor.
No, Jack will do this himself, chose a woman who doesn’t bore him and won’t nag him to death.
The Rileys of Mexico City held the one perfect for me.
Rich beyond imagination, interesting to know, had enough Irish and Spanish blood to make them more palatable to high society and had ties to the three worlds he lived in: business, crime and politics.
Better yet, their heiress ripe for the taking. Most of their ladies were too young or married with several children, but the one just two years younger than him had had shit luck and was heir to a fortune that was supposed to be split four ways.
The woman was total mystery, even her files had little on her. Just some bits and pieces of her life in Mexico, a picture with her dead brothers as a nurse and a wanted flyer crediting her as a saboteur and spy for the infamous Pancho Villa.
His interest in meeting increased tenfold and though he knew there was a chance she was damaged goods, Jack Nelson negotiated his marriage to the foreign aristocrat turned revolutionary worth almost as much as a Dollar Princess. She had not been home then, gone to church to light candles for her dead family, or so her uncle said when Jack demanded he intended to meet his bride the same day.
Not even bothering to ask if Patricio’s niece knew English, the Boston gangster set out to find the bride he just purchased at St. Jean Baptiste, the parish all the old money Catholics go to.
Eva Leonor Smith was a beauty, long graceful limbs, dark hair tastefully pinned under the veil she wears to mass, her dark brown eyes made up like a vamp and red lips he’d love to see wrapped around his---
Jack Nelson cannot finish that thought when his future wife turns to look at him with a knowing look in her eyes. She had done this on purpose, there was some rumor that the girl in black was into the occult. Tarot reading and some other shit that has won over the masses he struggled with.
Had she known he’d be the sort to confirm he wasn’t getting cheated out of his hard-earned money? It would be a first for him to do the dirty in such a holy place, but deflowering a virgin or sinning with a demoness is not something Jack could resist anyways.
Beautiful women have always been his Achilles’ Heel. That and the high of living on the fucking edge.
“Forgive me Father for I am going to sin.” He crosses himself as he follows her into the empty confessional booth with a shark like grin. The church was empty, the priest was away and if this woman was more devil than saint Jack might forgive her not being the untouched maiden he paid for.
He knows he is no monk, but one wants the assurance that your wife isn’t coming with a bastard in her belly or a bastard she’s still in love with. Eva Smith had two dead boyfriends and killed a man who tried to force herself on her, Patricio claimed his niece was not the type to sleep around and was too strong willed to be coerced, but that doesn’t mean shit if you ask Jack.
“I do speak English, if you had truly read the file, you would have known my father was an Englishman.” She said through the lattice screen. Eva seemed to like games, and to see what exactly did he get as a wife, Jack takes the bench for those seeking to unburden themselves with God’s appointed spokesmen.
“He was an English gypsy. Got on a ship after killing a fellow sailor and arrived in Mexico as your mother’s husband.” He proves he did read enough to know the interesting bits of his new wife. “You weren’t exactly raised English, nor your mom raised Irish, doll.”
“Ah, so you did do your homework, good boy.” The woman speaks with a teasing lilt he kinda likes. So far, he likes the sharp teeth under the red lips, keeps things interesting and when he grows tired of it, his secretary and the other dime a dozen girls who do everything he says will welcome him back with open arms.
“Your turn, sweetheart.” Jack says to keep it going and see what she knows about him. He enjoys a good game, an interesting wife who matches his wit could make the marriage less of a fucking burden.
“Your name really is John, Jack is merely a nickname, you were the third child of five siblings, the youngest was a bastard sister who died in her cradle, your youngest brother died from consumption, your elder sister died nursing him, your eldest brother died in France and your first kill was the priest who forced himself on your sister.” She answers and he wished he could get a good view of the vixen who knows things that were definitely not on his files.
“So what they say it’s true, then, you’re a fucking witch.” No one knew why he killed the priest, save for him and God. Even sweet Katie hadn’t known he’d avenged her when she died at the tender age of sixteen.
He was expecting a fraud, or worse a madwoman.
He got something better.
Jack leaves the booth only to tear open the door she hides behind. She is standing, smiling like the cat that ate the cream and pulls him into the narrow space with the intention of devouring his soul.
“I’m going to marry you.” The Gangster proclaims as they scramble to undo just enough to defile the church confessional. He would have preferred taking her out for a test drive in his car at least or the home he shares with his sister-in-law for Gina’s sake, but Jack’s never been good at patience.
“And if I say no?” she asks coyly even when she is burning with the same exhilaration and desire she’s awoken in him.
There is a yes that’s not just in her body’s reaction to him, the hand up her dress cups her pussy that’s only going to be wet and aching just for him from this fucking day till the end of time.
“Then we’re not leaving here until I get that yes from you, cailleach.” He might even give monogamy a try if the witch gives as good as she’ll get.
“I am not so easily swayed, Mr. Nelson, especially if you’re calling me a hag.” The witch proves to be not as easy as he thought, but no matter, Jack’s got plenty of tricks up his sleeve, his blunt tongue has other uses beyond getting his ass into trouble.
And true to his word, Eva Smith leaves the confessional having agreed to be his lovely, wedded wife and carried out in his arms ‘cause all that fucking made the witch have trouble walking after.
“Wanna push your luck and marry in May, sweetheart?”
Cw: mentions of injuries,past attempted assault, mentions of child sexual assault, death, sex and scars
Taglist: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife
“I thought you were a nurse during your war.” He said tracing idle circles around a spot on her hand where a bullet grazed her and left its mark on her.
They had ended up at his place, tearing each other’s clothes off and fucking again in his magnificent four poster bed even if his sister-in-law and niece could come back any moment.
Eva had wanted him to take her in the confessional, and he had, against the wooden walls and on the velvet seat that was supposed to be holy. He had gone on his knees when her assertiveness turned him on more than it pricked at his ego. Jack knew his way around a woman’s pussy, after he had made her unravel with his tongue and fingers, he promptly divested her of her virginity in a matter that had her wondering why everyone claims sex is meant to hurt.
A religious experience in many ways.
You are the first woman I fuck here; he had said when he rose and showed her his bullheadedness was more than equal to hers by kissing her with almost bruising strength as he maneuvered her in such a way she found herself on his lap and he sitting on the cushion that was be ruined beyond salvation soon after.
The only woman you will ever fuck here and there and everywhere, she had corrected when she guided his cock inside the place no man had ever gone into.
She’d never been with a man, while she done things that had him question her uncle’s claim of her virtue, Eva had never given herself entirely to a man. She supposed it didn’t matter now because the man who took her virginity is going to be her husband in about two months. And even if she did get pregnant, Eva knows how to get herself out of sticky situations like unplanned pregnancy.
I’m gonna return you to your uncle with a limp, Mrs. Nelson, he had carried her out of the church like a bride when her legs gave up on her after the greatest fuck of her life.
He had no driver, thank God, it had been so long Eva had ridden in the front seat of a car and had the freedom to take a man’s cock in her hand as he fought it all as he drove. Jack had a wild history, whores, secretaries, socialites, men and even transvestites, Eva at least had the consolation that their sex life will never get boring.
Though Eva knows better than to expect love any time soon, she couldn’t stop hoping for it as they fooled around in bed, they had torn off their clothes and explored every inch of each other as they tried to learn of the person they are about to spend the rest of their lives with. Every freckle and every scar had been kissed and if there was a story there then they told it.
“Nurses are in the line of fire too, you know.” She responded, keeping her secrets to herself. The witch isn’t sure if she trusts him enough to tell her what she really did during the war.
“The money on your head says otherwise, sweetheart.” He kissed the scar on her hand keeping the ritual they’ve created as they come to know each other like this.
Would he look at her the same way when she tells him she killed people with the same hands that discovered how he likes to be touched? That she drove to suicide the last man who kissed her? Would he want her when he learns there was a moment in her life where she relished taking the lives of yanqui’s like him because the United States invaded her city and killed her friends and family before looting her home until only the shell was left?
It is better if we forget it happened, her aunt had said as they wiped her records clean to ensure the United States wouldn’t be able to prove she did all those terrible things those three years of her life.
“I made a pretty good spy…and killer.”
But she cannot simply shut the door behind her. It is a piece of her that will stay with her like the pain and scar on her ankle from when that car ruined her fledgling ballet career at sixteen.
It comes and goes as it pleases, sure her sobriety has helped quiet the screams and the grief that led her to try and take her life several times, but it will never be over. Marriage may fuck her up more or it will allow her to move on with her life the way her return to Mexico City was supposed to.
Eva thinks Jack was lucky that his post as the newly minted General Manager exempted him from military service.
“That’s more like you. I don’t want some boring and fragile flower, you know. I want someone who can stomach who I am and isn’t afraid of getting their pretty hands dirty. The world you’re from can be as messy as the one I am from.” He is blunt, has as much tact as a bull in a china shop, but he makes good company and great lover.
Truth, no lies here where they’re naked and alone. He’s seen his fair share of shit as it is.
But there was a part of him that hated he was seen as less manly for not having fought in France like his brother had, though. Even if Laurance Nelson had died of an infection before his first real battle, he was seen as a real man because he joined the war in an effort to prove he was greater than the younger brother outshining him in every way.
Jack had lived and risen to great heights his brother never got to see. Would live to see his children have grandchildren of their own and see his name go down the annals of history and be dramatized on screens everywhere.
Still, Jack has his own set of scars, scars she kissed with the intention of loving him and show she is not daunted by the truth of him.
Eva kissed a faded stab wound near his clavicle and kissed every inch of skin down his sternum. The witch marked him as hers to the next lady he fucks, then he’ll know she meant what she said that she is the only woman he’ll have from now on.
He had another one in his abdomen, had found him to be ticklish there as she ventured lower until she reached that wondrous thing that made her see God several times that morning. That would come later, her fiancé owes her a story.
Jack was an open book, with the right person who knows sex makes people malleable and won’t reveal what she learns to anyone else as long as they care about each other.
He keeps himself guarded under lock and key despite his open exterior, but right now he’s let her have the blessed key.
Grew up being an errand boy to a gangster and eventually Party Boss of South Boston, who had taken him and his brother under his wing once they were old enough after their father died and their mother became his whore.
His mom had started out as a maid for the man, only for desperation to come with widowhood and the need to keep her children clothed and fed by any means necessary won and she became his mistress. Jack’s youngest sister, Regina, had been his bastard, born so that Patrick Kennedy wouldn’t stop supporting them when his eye wandered to other women. In the end his mother died from fever with the baby, they were taken by the parish with the same fucking priest who forced himself on their sister and believed rape was the best way to get the devil out of a thirteen year old Jack.
Pat had by then lost his own sons and daughter on account of all his sins, he needed heirs and when he heard it was Rosemary’s boys who killed the priest of the tiny parish he raised up with his own money, he replaced the dead with the living. His wife didn’t like any of that and put so many fucking obstacles that by the time they got them out, Katie and Teddy had contracted consumption from the other sad orphans with them.
Only Jack remained of his family, only him and the niece named after the dead baby that killed their mother.
So much pain, so much anger, so much fueling the deadly man who wants everything and wants it now.
Eva wasn’t supposed to know any of that.
He hadn’t seen her beyond photographs, but she had gotten a good look at the tall American man who came looking for a wife in her dreams the week before. Saw his intentions and past laid out bare before her as he came into the house’s driveway while she’d just been leaving it. Told him exactly that when he saw that she knew the story behind the scar on his lip from where he cut it fighting the man off him.
“How did you get this one?” she asks keeping her fingers light, even if she likes seeing him try and fight the ticklish sensation beneath the scar on his stomach. It is faded, not as recent as the one on his calf where he tripped over Gina’s bicycle one night, but not as old as the one where his first bullet went through at fourteen.
“Frank Wallace, Gutin Gang tried to hijack me thinking I’d gone soft when I got Bethlehem Steel. Last time they every thought of fucking with me.” He says with pride at having cheated death and remained the same violent boy the priest couldn’t fucking break. “Hurt like a bitch even after the surgeons patched me up.”
First time he admits to having been in pain as he told his stories with that smug tone of him. He does it because she refused to give more detail beyond war and time.
“Zacatecas, artillery felt like it was raining from heaven. Didn’t notice I was hit until we got my brother, Absalom, to the only hospital left with an operation theater.” The witch supplies knowing she’s going to have to do it sooner or later. “He still died, just delirious with fever and blood poisoning.”
“Laurie caught typhoid in the trenches. Went in ‘because he wanted to die, and God punished him for it. Left me Gina and her mother in my care ‘cause who else was going to do it?”” Jack says not bothering to hide his bitterness at having his big brother abandon him and his daughter and have only a fucking medal and a folded-up flag to mourn him.
“I’m sorry for your loss, it must have been terrible for you to lose your brother that way.” She says because she understands his pain. “And I’m sorry for making the both of us dredge up the past, Jack.”
Gabriel could have chosen to accept the deal with Carranza and wait out the war in the safety of America with their uncles. But when he refused to stop fighting and died worse than Absalom, Eva stayed by his side because she didn’t want him to die alone.
In the end he did, everyone dies as alone as they came into the world.
Such a dark turn this wonderful moment took.
“Got to admit for first dates, it sure as hell it’s gonna be one to remember, Mrs. Nelson.” He said, tilting her chin up and kissing her. “Baring our fucking souls here after desecrating the church I’ll marry you in.”
