#Their Shelby Blood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

corrupte3d-mindz · 5 months ago

Text

Blood Brothers

Thomas Shelby x F! Reader

Summary: Thomas is so in love with her and he believes nothing will ever happen to her.

Wordcount: 3.1k

Warnings:

Angst, Death, Blood, Gunshots, Suicide, Graphic Depictions.

Inspiration: Brother Joe — Ole 60

True love—Thomas could remember it like it was just yesterday. Meeting her at the Garrison and going a date was one of the few things that made his life better. The memory of that day was seared into his mind, a bright spot in an otherwise dark existence.

Thomas stood alone in the smoky confines of the Garrison, nursing a glass of whiskey that glinted amber in the dim light. The familiar hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses seemed distant, mere background noise to the memories that had come rushing back unbidden. He thought back to the first date, a night that had set the course of his life on a path he could never have anticipated.

It had been a rare warm evening in Small Heath, Birmingham, the air thick with the promise of summer. Thomas, usually so composed and unflappable, had found himself uncharacteristically nervous. He’d dressed carefully, his suit impeccably tailored, his cap perched at a rakish angle. Yet, as he approached her door, he felt his heart pound in a way it never had, not even in the most perilous of situations.

She had answered the door with a smile that stole his breath away. Her dress, simple yet elegant, accentuated her natural beauty in a way that left him momentarily speechless. He had fumbled for words, his usual eloquence deserting him. “Good evenin’,” he managed, his voice sounding strangely foreign to his own ears.

“Good evening, Thomas,” she had replied, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and something deeper, something that drew him in like a moth to a flame. “Are you ready for our night out?”

He had nodded, offering his arm with a gallant flourish that felt both archaic and perfectly right. “Shall we?” he said, his nerves momentarily soothed by the touch of her hand on his arm.

They had walked through the bustling streets of Small Heath, the sounds of the city creating a symphony that seemed to underscore the importance of the evening. Thomas had taken her to a small, intimate restaurant, one he knew would provide the perfect backdrop for their first date. The proprietor, an old friend, had greeted them warmly, ensuring they were seated at the best table, tucked away in a quiet corner. As they perused the menu, Thomas found himself sweating, a fine sheen of perspiration gathering at his temples. He cursed inwardly, wishing for the easy confidence he displayed in every other aspect of his life. But here, with her, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way that both terrified and exhilarated him.

She had seemed to sense his discomfort, her laughter light and musical as she reached across the table to touch his hand. “Thomas, it’s just dinner,” she said, her eyes meeting his with a reassurance that steadied him. “No need to be nervous.”

He had laughed then, a genuine sound that felt like a release. “I know,” he admitted, squeezing her hand gently. “It’s just… I’ve never seen a woman as beautiful as you.”

Her cheeks had flushed a delicate pink, her smile widening. “You flatter me, Mr. Shelby.”

“It’s no flattery,” he had replied earnestly. “Just the truth.”

The evening had unfolded like a dream, each moment etched into his memory with a clarity that defied time. They had talked for hours, sharing stories of their lives, their hopes, and their fears. He learned that she had a sharp wit and a keen intelligence, traits that only deepened his attraction. She, in turn, seemed genuinely interested in his life, his ambitions, and the shadows that sometimes darkened his gaze.

After dinner, they had walked back through the streets, the night air cooling the lingering heat of the day. The city felt different, almost magical, transformed by the connection they had forged. When they reached her door, Thomas had paused, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He wanted to kiss her, to seal the promise of the night with a touch that would convey everything words could not.

She had smiled, reading his thoughts with an ease that unnerved him. “Goodnight, Thomas,” she said softly, stepping closer. “Thank you for a wonderful evening.”

“Goodnight,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. And then, gathering his courage, he had leaned in, his lips brushing hers in a kiss that was both tender and electric. She had responded with a sweetness that left him breathless, her hand resting gently on his chest.

When they parted, he had looked into her eyes, seeing a future there that both thrilled and terrified him. “I’ll see you again?” he asked, his voice betraying the depth of his desire.

She had nodded, her smile lighting up the darkness. “Yes, Thomas. You will.”

As he walked away, the night closing in around him, Thomas had felt a sense of hope and possibility that had long eluded him. He knew that he had found something rare and precious, something worth fighting for.

Back in the present, Thomas took a deep sip of his whiskey, the burn of the liquor grounding him. He had never been a man to dwell on the past, but tonight, the memories seemed to demand his attention. He thought of the woman who had changed everything, the woman whose love had become the anchor in his tumultuous life.

“Thomas,” a familiar voice broke through his reverie. It was Arthur, his brother, looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. “You all right?”

Thomas nodded, setting his glass down with a decisive clink. “Just thinkin’, Arthur. About the past, and the future.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow, a rare moment of insight crossing his rugged features. “Thinkin’ about her, eh? She’s somethin’ special, that one.”

“Yes, she is,” Thomas agreed, a faint smile touching his lips. “She’s the reason I keep fightin’, keep pushin’ forward.”

Arthur clapped him on the shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. “Well, you’ve got us behind you, Tommy. Always.”

“I know,” Thomas replied, his voice steady with conviction. “And with her by my side, there’s nothin’ we can’t face.”

As the night wore on, Thomas found a renewed sense of purpose. He knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but he also knew that he was not alone. With his family and the woman he loved, he was ready to face whatever the future held. For now, he would cherish the memory of their first date, a reminder of the love that had blossomed against all odds. It was a love that had transformed him, given him hope, and made him believe in a future worth fighting for.

And so, as the last patrons filtered out of the Garrison and the bar quieted, Thomas Shelby allowed himself a moment of peace. He raised his glass in a silent toast to the woman who had changed his life, and to the promise of all that was yet to come.

His mind drifted back to the past once again, to the years that had flown by like leaves in the wind. He thought of his children, of the laughter and joy they brought into his life despite the darkness that often surrounded him. The image of their innocent faces brought a rare, genuine smile to his lips. And then, as if conjured by the music, his thoughts turned to her.

A few years had passed since they first started talking about having children, and now, their home echoed with the laughter and cries of two little ones. His heart clenched at the memory of their births, the overwhelming surge of love and responsibility that had washed over him the moment he held them for the first time.

“Tommy?” Her voice, soft and steady, brought him back to the present. She stood a few paces behind him, wrapped in a woolen shawl against the night’s chill. Her presence was a grounding force, a beacon of warmth and stability in his often tumultuous world.

He turned to face her, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the weight on his mind. “What are you doin’ out here, love? It’s cold.”

“I could ask you the same,” she replied, stepping closer. “Couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d find you thinkin’ out here.”

Thomas chuckled, the sound low and rough. “Aye, well, you know me too well.”

She reached out, her hand finding his in the darkness. “What’s on your mind?”

His breathing slowly calmed down and he pulled her in a tight embrace as his hands snaked around her waist. “Just the business, love”

The warmth of her body and the subtle scent of her perfume filled his senses, grounding him in the moment. His hands rested on her stomach, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breath. She leaned back into him, tilting her head slightly to rest against his shoulder. Thomas could see the soft curve of her neck, an invitation he couldn’t resist. He lowered his head, brushing his lips against her ear, and whispered, "You know I love you, _______”

Her smile was small but genuine, her eyes closing as she savored the closeness. "I know, Thomas," she replied softly, her voice filled with affection. "I love you too."

Thomas tightened his hold on her, pulling her even closer. His hands moved from her waist to her hips, holding her firmly but tenderly. He bent his head further, his breath warm against her skin, and began to place gentle, lingering kisses along the nape of her neck. Each kiss was a silent promise, a testament to the depth of his love and the bond they shared. She shivered slightly under his touch, her hands coming up to rest on top of his. She turned her head just enough so that their cheeks brushed together, her lips tantalizingly close to his. Thomas moved one hand from her hip to her chin, guiding her face towards his. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss, full of the unspoken emotions that words could never fully capture.

He kissed her deeply, savoring the taste of her lips and the softness of her skin. His other hand remained on her hip, anchoring them both in the moment. She responded with equal fervor, her hands slipping behind her to grip the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as their need for each other intensified. Thomas's hand moved from her chin to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her cheek. He kissed her with an urgency that spoke of all the times they had been apart, all the dangers they had faced, and all the love that had brought them back together.

She turned in his arms, wanting to face him fully. Their kiss broke only for a moment, their breaths mingling as they gazed into each other's eyes. There was a fire in Thomas’s eyes, a raw intensity that made her heart race. He captured her lips once more, his kiss fervent and consuming.

Thomas sat at his mahogany desk, sorting through papers and signing certain things that needed his signature. It was a task that gnawed at him with the persistence of an old wound.

He strode purposefully towards the storage room, the heels of his polished boots clicking against the wooden floor. The room was dimly lit, shadows pooling in the corners, and the faint smell of old books and dust filled the air. Thomas reached for the heavy black phone mounted on the wall, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his hand. He dialed the familiar number, each rotation of the dial bringing him closer to the sound of her voice.

"Hello?" Her voice, soft and melodic, crackled through the line.

"It's me," Thomas said, his voice low and steady, the Birmingham lilt unmistakable. "I'll be a bit late tonight. There's something I need to finish here first."

There was a pause on the other end, a hesitation that spoke volumes. "Alright, Tommy. Just be careful, please."

Thomas felt a pang of guilt. She always worried about him, knew the dangers that lurked in every shadow of his world. "I will," he promised, though he knew it was a promise he might not always be able to keep. "I'll see you soon."

"I'll see you soon."

He hung up the phone, the finality of the click resonating in the silence. For a moment, he stood there, his hand lingering on the receiver, his mind drifting back to the days when life was simpler. A song she had sung to him to help him sleep was weaving its way through his thoughts, pulling him back to a time when his only concerns were the next race, the next deal, the next drink. Thomas shook himself from his reverie and turned to the task at hand. He needed to go through the inventory, ensure that everything was accounted for and ready for the next shipment. It was a mundane task, but one that required his meticulous attention to detail.

The old rotary phone in the corner of Thomas Shelby's dimly lit office began to ring. The sound, usually a harbinger of business or bad news, was a jarring intrusion into the rare tranquility he had found that evening. Thomas was in the midst of humming an old gospel hymn he had learned from his sweet, sweet _______ a rare moment of sentimentality for the man known more for his ruthlessness than his piety.

“Nearer, my God, to Thee,” he sang softly, his voice a low rumble that echoed in the sparse room. The hymn was a link to a past long buried under layers of soot and blood, a memory of a simpler time after the war, during the Peaky Blinders, while everything had become so damned complicated.

The phone's incessant ringing persisted, pulling Thomas back to the present. With a sigh, he stood and crossed the room, his footsteps heavy against the worn wooden floor. He glanced at the caller ID, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he recognized the number. It was the Bobbie’s office.

He picked up the receiver, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of his thoughts. "Thomas Shelby speaking," he said, his voice steady but with an edge of impatience.

The call had come just as dusk was settling, the sky outside painted in hues of deep blue and purple. The voice on the other end, urgent and breathless, delivered news that made his blood run cold. "Mr. Shelby, sir, it's the parsonage... someone broke in. The neighbors heard poppin’…”

Before the lady on the other end could finish, Thomas felt his knees buckle. He clutched the edge of his desk for support, the world around him spinning. "Caught him... two broken locks and three little bodies... and _______”

My sweet, sweet _______

The receiver slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. For a moment, he stood there, paralyzed by the weight of the words that hung in the air. His mind raced, memories of her laughter, her touch, her warmth, flooding him like a tidal wave. The image of her lifeless body, of the innocent children who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, seared into his consciousness.

With a guttural cry, Thomas sank to his knees, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as he fought to regain control. The room felt stifling, the air thick with a suffocating silence. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to stand, to think, to act.

The caller on the phone spoke once more; “Were sending a Bobbie to come talk to you…” The line went silent.

Thomas Shelby sat alone in his dimly lit office, the weight of the world pressing down on his shoulders. The events of the past few hours had taken their toll on him, and he found himself at a crossroads, unsure of which path to take. The image of his wife, _______, lying lifeless on the ground flashed before his eyes, and he clenched his fists in anger and frustration.

He knew that he was a man that would hurt anyone but circumstances had pushed him to the brink. He believed that he needed to leave a bullet in a man's head to set things right, to protect his family and his empire. He knew that come the risen sun, it would all be said and done, and he would have to live with the consequences of his actions.

With a heavy heart, Thomas reached for the gun that lay on his desk, its cold steel sending a shiver down his spine. He didn't want to do this, but he felt that he had no choice. Tears welled up in his eyes as he pressed the barrel of the gun against his temple, the weight of his decisions bearing down on him like a ton of bricks.

"Jesus wept," he whispered, the words catching in his throat. What the hell was all this for? He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. With a steady hand, he pulled the trigger, the sound of the gunshot echoing through the empty room.

As Thomas fell to the floor, his lifeless body hitting the ground with a thud, his soul began its journey home. Home to his three boys and his sweet _______, the only light in his dark world. His sweet _______, who had stood by him through thick and thin, who had been his rock in times of trouble.

Thomas Shelby was gone, but his legacy would live on, a testament to the man he had been and the choices he had made. And somewhere, in the great beyond, his soul found peace, reunited with those he had lost along the way.

Author’s Notes:

Btw the places he’s in are jumping all over for a reason!

If I ruined your night and that was the plan I’m not sorry. I honestly do recommend listening to what they have out it’s so good. Peace and cheers my babies! Ole’ 60!!

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