Nov 15, 2021
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This is my pub
First one shot so its genuine shit but oh well..
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warnings: Broken Glass, cuts, shouting
Word Count: 942
It was a late night in the Garrison and most of the drunken men had already left. You were feeling bored, but you had this feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was going to happen tonight. Stepping away from the bar to pick up a bottle of whiskey off the shelf, you sighed softly.
“Why is everything so fucking high?” you asked yourself as you reached up on your tiptoes to grab the bottle. “Oh, that's right, no one here is used to a fucking woman working behind the bar.”
You didn’t usually work at the pub, but Harry was sick with a cold and begged you to cover for him. You’d only been here two days, you hadn’t even met anyone other than your uncle, and one or two people who’d stop to chat at the bar while you worked. You were only supposed to be in Small Heath to visit your uncle Harry for a week of relaxation, not to fucking work.
You managed to tip the bottle with your fingers creeping it closer to the edge of the shelf. Suddenly, just as you grasped the bottle in your small hands, the door of the pub slammed open and a loud voice boomed, “Everyone out!” The voice and the noise scared you. You dropped the glass bottle on the floor and you watched as it smashed into shards on the ground. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm yourself down before looking up to see who it was you were going to kill for scaring you.
Your eyes fell upon a man who was no more than thirty. He wore a peaked cap on his head and you could see the glint of metal on it. Looking around you noticed that everyone else had disappeared and it was just the two of you left in the pub.
“I said out,” he said in a cool tone, but you could see the panic behind his eyes.
“I ain’t leaving, this is my pub,” you said confidently. Okay, so maybe this wasn’t your pub, but it was your uncle Harry’s.
The man scoffed and stepped forward further into the light of the pub and you saw a cut running from his forehead to his cheekbone. The blood was dried on it and you bit your lip as you also spotted a purple bruise forming on his opposite cheek.
“This ain’t your pub, love,” he said. He started to rush around, organizing chairs around a table. You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on.
“You’re Harry's niece, aren’t ya?” he asked you, turning to face you. He removed his long coat and placed it on the back of the chair. You nodded, before walking over to the storeroom to get the brush to clean up the glass on the floor.
“What are you doing here anyway, sir?” you asked him, and he began to explain his story. You heard the first part as you swept up the glass. Picking up a larger shard with your hand, you let out a small hiss and dropped it again. Looking at your finger, you felt tears prickle your eyes at the stinging sensation in your now crimson finger.
“Are you even listening to me?” he asked you, before walking up behind the bar and grabbing another bottle of whiskey, pouring out two glasses. His cold voice sent shivers down your spine and his eyes seemed to be analyzing you.
You shrugged.
“Didn’t know I was supposed to. Was only making polite conversation, Mr...” you trailed off, not knowing his name. In fact, you didn’t know what made you so comfortable around the man, but you felt protected.
His lips tilted upwards a bit at your reply before his face fell back into its stony position.
“Thomas Shelby,” he drawled, and took out his pocket watch, checking the time and tapping his fingers impatiently. He looked at his glass of whiskey before downing it in one and pushing one towards you. As you were about to say something, the phone in the back rung out loudly, bursting through the silence and making you jump slightly.
He left you alone in the front of the pub, but you could hear faint whispers in the back and a fair few curse words before he hung up the phone. He stormed back into the room and any sense of a warm atmosphere was gone.
“We’re surrounded. Shit!” He threw his cap onto the counter before running towards the door and bolting the lock.
You looked at him and sighed, “The more the merrier.” You couldn’t help but make humor in the situation, seeing as you only had a faint clue as to what was going on. Something to do with the IRA.
“I think you got the wrong concept. That’s not how this works.” He ran his fingers through his short hair. “Fuck! I wasn’t prepared for this,” he yelled again. He threw his arms up in the air. “It was just supposed to be me and him.” He turned to face you.
“You need to get out now,” he said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you with him out through the back door. Pushing you out the door he muttered one word, “Run!” before grabbing your neck and pulling you in so he could lay a gentle kiss on your cheek. He slipped something into your hand, a pound. What the fuck? “Come and find me in the morning. We have some business to discuss.” and as she walked away she made sure to look behind her, but he was gone.
Part 2 to come.
You have no idea what you do to me !
🔥🔥🔥