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mydear-corinthian · 7 months ago

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Fainting || Shelby brothers x reader

Sypnosis: How they react when you faint. Pairings: Tommy Shelby x reader, John Shelby x reader, Arthur Shelby x reader (individual) Warnings: mentions of fainting (reader), pregnancy, skipping meals, may be out of characters, may contain a spoiler. Note: Not proofread. Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

THOMAS 'TOMMY' SHELBY

🥃 His face shows calmness but deep down he is already panicking.

🥃Tommy just went back from his paperwork in his office when he saw your son on your arms, cradling him to sleep. "Why aren't you asleep yet, love?" he asked you, giving a kiss on your forehead before taking the little baby on your arms to his instead. You sighed in exhaustion, your lips were chapped, your face was pale as a ghost, your once neat hair bun turned into a madness; little strands of your hair was detached from your messy bun. 🥃 "I was just waiting for Charlie to sleep." you answered. His brow raised a little, showing a sign of confusion. "Then why are you so pale? You look like you've seen a ghost," his fingers found the strands of your hair, tucking it behind your ear. Charlie finally stopped crying, his eyes fell down as he snuggled on his father. "I'm just tired, that's all." reassuring your husband as you replied. Your husband gently placed your child on the white wooden crib, letting the baby sleep comfortably. He was starting to get worried, your breaths aren't steady, the way you denied that you aren't fine even though you look sick, his heart itched.

🥃 Holding your shoulders with his rough palms, he asked again, "Are you sure, (y/n)?" Your vision was starting to get cloudy, you felt like the floor and the walls were shaking, Tommy's voice felt like it was speaking to you from afar. Your hands met his hands, gripping them tightly for security before you passed out. "(Y/n)? Are yo- (y/n)!" the sight of your body falling into his arms made his sentence cut off, he gasped your name, there was a tone of a rough yell at the same time. His body shows signs of calmness except for the eyes; the eyes never lies. Thoughts were racing on his mind, full of what ifs and worrying what will happen to you.

🥃 When you woke up, Tommy was beside your bed, sleeping uncomfortably on the wooden chair. His arms were crossed, his clothes were still the same indicating that he was 100% focused on you while you passed out. You called out his name softly, trying to reach his arms. The sound of your soft voice woke him from his uncomfortable slumber. He stood almost immediately, how are you doing. "How are you now?" his palms cupping your right cheek. "I'm fine, Tommy." you replied, holding his hand that was on your cheek, caressing it with your thumb. He sighed in relief, "The nurse said you were stressed and your stomach is empty," "I know, I'm sorry. I was so busy taking care of Charlie, I forgot to eat." you replied, your head dropped, you felt embarrassed.

🥃 His head shook, both of his palms were now on your cheeks, his glowing blue eyes locked with yours. The way he's using his eyes as his language. "Shhh.., no need to apologize, thank you for taking care of our Charlie. I'm sorry I wasn't there to help you." "Thank you for understanding, love. It's okay, I understand how busy you are in the betting shop." you said, giving him a kiss which thankfully he returned it. Tommy's personal nurse knock on the door before entering your shared room, her arms carrying a plastic tray with your favorite food and a warm tea. Your husband placed the tray on the small table near the bed, giving you a plate of your food. "Eat, you'll feel better."

JOHN SHELBY

🚬 You've been feeling unwell lately. Your head ached, your muscles were sore, you had strange food cravings, and you felt sick in the morning. You knew what this hinted at, but you can't be positive, and the last thing that should be checked is that your period is late.

🚬It was an awful day. You vomited in the morning, and your joints hurt. Washing off the vomit from the metallic sink, you checked the date on the small white calendar beside you.

🚬 You were definitely late. For over a week now.

🚬 Sighing in exhaustion, you accepted the outcome of what would happen to you. Your partner, John, had already gotten you pregnant before. This will be your fourth child. - You weren't precisely sorry about it, but you were worried about what would happen to your unborn child, and you felt stressed out because of your job as an accountant for Shelbys. There was a lot of paperwork to be done, but not as much as Tommy had, but it was still exhausting.

🚬 It was already ten in the morning., John was gone on business, and the rest of your children were in school. The house was now yours alone, and there was food on the circular dish on the dining table that John had left for you before leaving to start his day. You finished the meal. Your stomach was now satisfied, but your muscles remained sore.

🚬 Grunting in pain, you approached to the front door as you heard a knock. You opened it to see your husband standing there. His peaky hat adorned his hair, and a light wooden toothpick displayed his lips rather than his thick tobacco. "John? Your shift isn't going to end for hours," you questioned as John entered the room and removed his hat. "I know; I just want to see you," John said. You chuckled at his response and taunted, "I'm your wife, John. You literally see me every day." "It's just that you've been feeling ill lately, and I needed to take care of you, so I left the office early," he explained, his arms gently gripping your hips.

🚬 "Honestly love, it's fine. I can handle it, I just need to re-", fefore you could finish your sentence, your head felt like it had erupted. Your temples felt like they were twisting. Your vision was becoming increasingly fuzzy, and your husband's sight was beginning to fade away. He called your name worriedly, catching your attention. He tried again, but this time louder. All you could hear was your husband calling your name and a long bell sound. His hands tightened around your hips, stabilizing your body. His eyes were filled with concern. Suddenly, your legs and muscles gave out, and your frail body fell onto his broad arms. Your face was pale and your lips were dehydrated. Panicking, he quickly lays you down on the vintage couch. He contacted his aunt, Polly, for help.

🚬 "She's pregnant." Polly announced to his nephew, who was pacing back and forth and unintentionally messing with his hair while his aunt checked on his wife. "H-How so?" he asked. "Well, maybe it's because the both of you fucked?" Polly coldly responds. This gave John an unimpressed expression. "The morning nausea, unusual cravings, the sore muscles, all that you mentioned it," she said. "Oh for fuck sakes, John, give (y/n) a rest. Every year she's fucking pregnant, control that cock of yours." Polly's statement made him laugh. John was happy that they are again to bear a kid but he can't also help but get worried and scared at the same time since getting into labour's hard. "Thank you, aunt Polly," he thanked the older Shelby, helping her make way to the door. "Take good care of her, John,"

-🚬 "I will." 🚬 You woke up, your clothes has been changed and there was a glass of water on the table near the couch you were laying down on. You called your husband's name, hoping that he was still here. "How are you, love?" he asked, combing your hair with his fingertips. "I'm fine now. John, I-I think I'm.. pregn-" "Pregnant." he cut you off. Your head tilted to the side in confusion, looking at him, his face was plastered with a big smile. "Aunt Polly told me. I called her for help when you passed out. When did you knew that you were pregnant?" "Just today, I already accepted that my period was late and I'm bearing your child again." you answered, emphasizing. "Hey, I can't help it you know, you're just so pretty, I can't help but fuc-" "John!" embarrassed by his reply, you cut him off. Your cheeks heat up at his answer. "What, it's true! Let me take care of you, love."

🚬 "As you should, Mr. Shelby." 🚬 "I will, Mrs. Shelby."

ARTHUR SHELBY JR.

🥊 Marriage to a man like Arthur Shelby was dangerous. Risky in the sense that you are afraid your illness will worsen. 🥊 Arthur was a good partner to you. He is both a provider and a lover. However, he was a heavy smoker. You can see him smoking his thick tobacco every day; it's as if he can't function without it.

🥊 It was an ordinary morning; you were just staying at home, and he was smoking brown tobacco. The hazardous air entered his lungs, and he exhaled the surplus air very near you. This has been going on for several days. His smoking became worse as a result of his distress about what had happened to his father. His father abandoned them for years, and when he returned, he left them again. You choked as he exhaled the noxious air, but it was even worse. Your coughing episode lasted over five minutes, burning your throat and making your heart race. When your partner spotted the never-ending fit, he promptly discarded the unfinished cancer stick. "Hey, love, breathe," he patted your back hardly. Thankfully, your coughing fit ended, but you were beginning to notice little spots all over you. You blinked rapidly, attempting to get rid of the spots. "Hey - are you okay?" Arthur asked. "Arthur, I can't - can't see clearly." You worried and looked everywhere. Your heart pounded quickly, and your breathing became heavy. Your dizziness gradually overtook you as you fainted.

🥊 When you awoke, you expected to be in your room, but instead you saw grey walls and a strange mattress. You looked around the room before calling your husband's name. The wooden door opened, and the oldest Shelby brother entered the room. As he approached you, he removed his peaky hat. His face expresses worry and sorrow. He sadly smiled and reached out for a hug, which you accepted. You were panicking deep inside. You've been hiding your disease since you met your husband; you didn't want him to find out because it might make him upset or, worse, leave you.

🥊 There was an unpleasant silence in the room before Arthur chose to break it. "How are you managing now, (y/n)?" he asked with a heavily sigh. "I'm feeling better now, fortunately." There was more silence. "The doctor says you have arrhythmia .. it looks like you have it for quite some time now. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

🥊You always assumed that this day would come, but you didn't expect it to be today. Your mind is filled up with thousands of unpleasant thoughts. 'What if he leaves me?' 'My life would end without me' 'What do I-' "(Y/n?)" Shaking your head, you determined to give him the truth, even if the outcome wasn't pleasant for you. You took a long breath and eventually explained to him. "When I was a child, I had a very narrow arteries. It got worse when I grew up and the doctor diagnosed me about it. I'm sorry, I should've told you sooner, Arthur."

🥊 His hands found the side of your face and gently stroked your cheekbones. "It's okay, love. I understand. And I'm sorry for smoking all around you. I won't do it again." He kissed your forehead before massaging your back. "It's fine, Arthur; you didn't know." You smiled as you held his hands on your cheeks.

🥊 "We'll be fine, right?"

🥊 "We will." THE END

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #john shelby #john shelby x reader #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader

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runnning-outof-time · 29 days ago

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The Special Touch | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: A small, small detail brings back memories of a person in Tommy Shelby’s life that was able to do something not many can.

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 3102

A/N: the structure of this one’s a little wonky, but I think it reads cohesively…I hope it comes off that way for you. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the italicized dialogue in the story is taken directly from season 1 of the show.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

(Y/N)'s food was the only thing Tommy Shelby actually ate.

Sure, he still didn't willingly sit himself at the table when it came time for a meal, but (Y/N)'s cooking coaxed him in more often than it didn't.

What started as a woman trying to impress the family of a man she dearly liked - that form of impressing coming through a lovely, homemade apple pie - quickly blossomed into (Y/N) being the Shelby family cook. Polly was probably the happiest about this - she no longer had to tackle the family meals alone.

Tommy was also happy about this - being that he quickly made sure that she was his - because it meant that he was able to spend much more time with her. Hell, he'd even happily endure the enhanced teasing from his family...Tommy hadn't spent this much time at home since he was a child. But (Y/N), and her cooking, had him coming home more often than anything else.

And he enjoyed it.

On this particular evening, she had decided to make some plum bread to bring to the Shelby family. It was one of her favorite recipes, one that she only brought out every once in a while.

Tonight would be a special night for it, she thought. She and Tommy had been officially together for eight months, but it was on this night one year ago that they shared their feelings with each other and decided that they’d commit themselves to one another.

She worked all day to make the bread not only for this occasion, but also because she wanted to see if his family liked it as much as hers did.

It was late afternoon when she made her way over to the house on Watery Lane. She hoped that everyone was home because with each step her eagerness was building - she wanted as many people as possible to try the bread she’d baked.

She could hear the inhabitants of the house before she saw them as she entered through the front door.

She heard Tommy speak in a low voice, “you’re alright,” as the sound of pain-filled hisses filled the room.

Then came a statement that made (Y/N) stop: “he said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said…something about a robbery.” It was Arthur who was speaking. “He said he wants us to help him.”

“We don’t help coppers,” she heard John chime in.

“He knew all about our war records,” Arthur continued, “he said we’re patriots…like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said—” another pain-filled hiss left the eldest siblings lips, and it was followed by a soft ‘shh’. He continued once the pain had been assuaged, “I said we’d have a family meeting and take a vote,” he finished his statement.

A pause filled the room. (Y/N), who’d been standing still and listening in since she entered the dwelling, couldn’t stand in the same position any longer. Despite her efforts not to, her weight shifted, making the floorboard creak underneath her foot.

Tommy looked up from the ground upon hearing the sound, and his intense gaze connected with her worried one instantly. “We’ll discuss this later,” he then addressed his family in a low tone.

“What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” Arthur asked, annoyance laced into his tone.

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” Polly chimed in, her tone matching Arthur’s.

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on (Y/N), who now felt like she had to make her presence known. She took a few steps forward into the room before speaking, “I’m sorry I…I didn’t know what I was arriving to,” she hesitantly said, feeling several pairs of eyes now locked onto her. She tried to withhold her expression, but surely there was a look of pain present on her face as she took in Arthur’s bloodied one. “Goodness,” she gasped, the tension quickly becoming too much for her to bear, “I…I wanted to bring something over for the evening. I baked plum bread from scratch,” she said, holding the enclosed tray out in front of her.

“Well isn’t that just bloody perfect,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

Silence hung in the room and (Y/N) wasn’t quite sure what to do. It seemed like every person in the family was glaring daggers at Tommy, and Tommy was just standing, brooding in front of the free-standing stove.

“I can just…I can leave and come back at a better…”

“No!” John interrupted her, pushing himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against, “you’re here now, so let’s try some of this bread.”

“Ok,” there was still a great deal of hesitance present in (Y/N)’s voice, but she still allowed John to take the tray from her hands when he motioned for it. She then glanced in Tommy’s direction, seeing that he was still glaring at the floor. Above everything else, she really wanted to speak to him. The conversation she walked in on was still in the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t sure how to make the first move though.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is grand!” John’s review of the bread cut through her thoughts, making her focus on the small group that was now trying it. Ada nodded her head in agreement with her brother as Polly quietly ate her piece. She didn’t look displeased with it though. Arthur was still staring at the piece that had been placed in front of him. (Y/N) figured he wouldn’t eat it that moment though, given the state he was currently in. A small smile creeped onto her face as she watched them enjoy the thing she’d spent so long baking.

“Tommy you’ve got to try it! It’s absolutely amazing, as always,” Ada said to her older brother, hoping that her shining review would coax him into having a bite.

“I’ll have some later,” he brushed her statement off, his eyes finding (Y/N) again. “(Y/N), can I talk to you?” he asked her then, his brows raising slightly.

“Yes,” she answered softly, knowing there really wasn’t any other response she could give.

He nodded before tipping his head in the direction of the betting shop doors. She nodded in agreement, wordlessly following behind him as they went into that section of the building.

The walk felt so long, even though they were really only moving to the next room over. (Y/N) bit on her cheek as she tried to think of what to say. She knew she wanted to be the first to speak. “What did I walk in on back there?” was what she settled on asking as they both came to a stop.

“It was nothing,” Tommy brushed the question off.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” she doubled down, not buying his diversion. “Who has Mr. Churchill sent?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he tried another escape route.

“You’re helping the cops now?” she asked another question.

“(Y/N)…” his tone held a warning.

“Why does Arthur look like that?” her exasperation finally shined through this question as she motioned to the room they’d just left.

Tommy exhaled a sigh as he looked away from his partner. It was already enough that his entire family was coming down on him…he didn’t need it from her as well. “This isn’t something you need to worry about, (Y/N),” he told her once he composed himself.

“You said you wouldn’t hold anything from me, Tommy,” she reminded him of a promise that he made to her in their early months. A promise that came as a result of him showing up to her family’s house broken and bloodied…over something he couldn’t share.

Her parents hated him from that day forward, but she found a way to continue to see him. He assured her that would be the last time nothing was withheld…until now it seems.

“This is different,” he shook his head.

“Different how?” she asked for him to elaborate.

“Different in the sense that if it all goes according to plan, we move up in the world,” his elaboration was still vague.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s all I can share,” his tone was now dismissive as he lifted his hand, his palm to the ceiling.

(Y/N) stared at him for a few moments, silently hoping that he’d take that statement back and clue her in to what was going on. She had to bite on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering after those moments had passed and nothing more was said.

“Well I think I need to leave then,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

Tommy’s brows furrowed at her statement, “what?”

“You promised that you wouldn’t keep anything from me, that there’d be no secrets in regards to what sort of business you’re doing,” she reminded him, “we agreed that that would be the only way we could work.”

“I said that this was different, (Y/N),” he argued his cause, “there has to be an exception for it.”

“I can’t make an exception, Tommy,” she shook her head, her tone slightly wavering, “because if I make one now, you’ll have me making another down the road.”

“(Y/N), I don’t need this…”

“Do you know what day it is, Tommy?” she cut him off, her eyebrows raised. He said nothing. “Huh?” she asked for a response. Silence was all she got. “You don’t…” she sighed in defeat, shaking her head as she looked to the floor. “It’s been a year…one whole year since we shared our feelings for each other. One whole year since I thought I found the person who I was going to be with for the rest of my life. But now I don’t know anymore…”

“(Y/N)…” he tried to get out but she wasn’t hearing it.

“This is your last chance,” she gave him the ultimatum, “tell me or I leave.”

The tension between the two was practically palpable. (Y/N) waited on bated breath for him to share what he’d been hiding from her. Tommy weighed his options in his mind - no one knew that he still had the guns in his possession. He was hoping that the last person who knew was (Y/N). But now since she stumbled in on that conversation, she wanted to know more. He’d remembered the promise he made those several months ago. And while the last thing he wanted to do was break it, he just couldn’t bring himself to reveal the secret he was withholding from the entire family. If she knew, everyone would know, was his thinking.

“I’m leaving,” she made her decision, cutting into his thoughts and making him realize that he hadn’t said anything.

She took one last look at him, honestly still hoping that he’d make some grand gesture and save everything, but he just stood there, a look of disbelief clear across his face. She had to follow through with her decision. With a deep breath, she walked past him and exited the building through the betting shop door. Turning and walking back past the family would have been too much for her. She needed to get away with the least amount of Shelbys seeing her.

Tommy blinked a few times after the door to the shop closed. He was frozen in disbelief. So much had happened in the span of a short time. And now (Y/N) was gone.

He remembered the bottle of rum that he’d brought for Arthur’s wounds. It wasn’t whiskey, but the last thing he wanted to do was go out now, so the rum would do.

Polly, John and Arthur were still sitting in the kitchen when he re-entered it. He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, instead making a b-line for the bottle of alcohol and bringing it to his lips the second he had it in his hands.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Arthur questioned, looking less bloody now than he had before.

“She left,” Tommy answered before taking another drink from the bottle.

“Shame…this bread’s fucking amazing,” John shared his praises for the woman’s baking skills. “You should try some,” he insisted.

“I don’t want any,” Tommy shook his head.

“Try some!” Arthur shouted, motioning to the small portion of the bread that was left, “before we eat it all on ya.”

“Fine,” Tommy huffed under his breath, moving over to where the baked good was sitting. He took the knife and cut himself the smallest slice, putting it right into his mouth and eating it without giving any clue as to what he thought of it. He then walked out of the room, exiting the home the opposite way (Y/N) had.

The three remaining people in the room all watched him leave, wondering what exactly was making him even more vexed than usual.

“More for us,” John shrugged, his carefree comment clearing the tension as he moved over to cut himself another slice of the bread.

Tommy returned to the house on Watery Lane later that evening and let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

There was still a small piece of the plum bread (Y/N) had brought over left of the table. He sighed as he sat down on one of the chairs before reaching out to take the leftover piece.

Another sigh left his lips as he ate the bread. He couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his mind since she left him earlier, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fighting with himself over what he should do now.

As much as he wanted her in his life, he had to honor her wishes. And even if she posed the earlier question to him again, he wasn’t sure if he’d give a different response. What was happening now was different…he had to keep his cards close to his chest. She should have understood that, right?

He couldn’t deny that he missed her though. The fact that he actually came back to have a second piece of the bread she made for them had him realizing that there would be many reasons why he’d be missing her.

“I have something for you,” the barmaid, Grace, announced as she entered the snug, where the three oldest Shelby brothers had been holed up for the majority of the day. She’d been working at the Garrison for several months now, and she’d quickly found her place within the establishment.

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he brought his glass up to his lips, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Plum bread. I made it…figured you’d need something after all of the meetings that have been happening,” she answered, explaining the reason behind the gesture.

John and Arthur exchanged a look upon hearing what she’d brought. They hadn’t had plum bread since (Y/N) left it for them. Hesitantly, they looked over at Tommy. His expression wasn’t readable.

“Leave it on the table and then you’re good to go, Grace,” Tommy spoke up to instruct her. He felt his brothers’ eyes on him, and knew that they’d be watching closely to see what he’d do next.

“Ok,” she nodded, carefully setting the serving dish and accompanying plates on the table before she turned and exited the snug.

The three men looked at the bread for a few moments. John and Arthur both didn’t want to be the first to make a move, and they most certainly knew that Tommy wasn’t going to.

It was kind of Grace to bake for them, and they no doubt took it as one of her attempts to break the ice between her and the Shelby family. She’d been chipping away at it since she arrived months ago.

But the elephant in the room was looming large now, and it had made itself known via the choice of baked good that the aforementioned blonde woman had brought.

“Shall we try it then?” Arthur was the first to finally speak up. He took his eyes off the dish for a moment to look at his brothers.

“Might as well,” John shrugged as he replied.

Now they both were looking at Tommy. It became apparent that they weren’t going to make a move until he signed off on it. “Go on,” he finally instructed them, motioning to the bread with his chin.

That was all the two men needed. Arthur took on the job of cutting the bread while John divvied out the plates. They even cut a piece for Tommy, who didn’t seem like he was too keen on eating it.

What they did not need was an invitation to eat the bread. More silence filled the room as they did so. It took a few bites from both of them before they were sharing a look with each other. Something had been silently agreed upon between them, and now they were deciding whether they should share their thoughts with Tommy.

“How is it?” Tommy broke into their nonverbal conversation, knowing the looks they were sharing all too well.

“It’s…” Arthur started, finishing his statement off with a breath instead of continuing before he looked to John for assistance. Between the two of them, he knew the latter was a more colorful commentator.

“It’s not like hers,” John filled in the blank, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at the remaining piece of bread on his plate.

The name didn’t even need to be said. Tommy knew who they were taking about. He exhaled a breath before nodding his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the piece sitting in front of him.

“She ain’t got that special touch like (Y/N) did,” Arthur then added his thoughts, addressing the elephant in the room by name.

Tommy’s look was once again unreadable. Glimpses of the woman he’d lost were swirling around his mind, and they wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he wished he would have done things differently. He wished she was still in his life.

What’s done is done was always what came to mind when he got to thinking like that. But even though that phrase came to mind, he still wasn’t going to try the bread, for his remembrance of how she made it was one of the only good things he had left.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @mischievouslittlecreature

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername

@depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium

@brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

@shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

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multific · 2 years ago

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Little You-s and I-s

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

Your pregnancy changed you a lot.

You became more sensitive to smell for example.

One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.

Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.

Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.

What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.

Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.

"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.

"What? Why?"

"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."

"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.

"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."

"No problem, thank you for the tea."

"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.

When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.

"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."

"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.

Both headed into the dining room instead.

"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.

"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."

"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."

"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."

"Does she always cry during cooking?"

"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."

"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."

"She talks back like I have never heard before."

"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.

"She didn't like the ring?"

"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."

"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray.

You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.

"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.

"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.

"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."

"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.

Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.

"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"

"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.

You were fine with 'odd'.

"I try to control it, you know?"

"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."

"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."

"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.

"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."

"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.

"Just how many children my Missus want?"

"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."

"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."

You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

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theonewiththefanfics · 2 years ago

Text

The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)

Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that...

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)

Word count: 3028

Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.

But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.

Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.

He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.

When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.

He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.

It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.

When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.

“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.

For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.

He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.

Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.

***

Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.

Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.

She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.

He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.

“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.

The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.

But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.

Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.

Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.

Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.

Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.

They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.

The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.

Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.

Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.

Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.

She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.

Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.

And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.

The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.

Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.

Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.

The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.

Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.

Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.

She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.

“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.

But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.

“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”

She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.

“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”

After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.

But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.

***

When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.

“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.

“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”

That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.

Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.

Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.

“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”

If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.

When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.

It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.

A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.

“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.

Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.

He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.

At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.

Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.

“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”

To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.

She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”

Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”

She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.

Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.

No longer were they afraid.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger

Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni @captivatedbycillianmurphy @screemqueen @mrsmalfoyshelby @theamuz @lyarr24

A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)

P.S. hope you liked this :)

P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome

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corrupte3d-mindz · 5 months ago

Text

Burning Embers

Possessive! Thomas Shelby x Pregnant! Reader

Summary: Thomas would burn the world down then not be able to hear you call his name again.

Wordcount: 5.8k

Warnings:

Possessive! Thomas, arson, gunshots, death, kissing, then lovey dovey stuff from Thomas.

Inspiration: Let the world burn - Chris Grey

The Garrison was a cacophony of noise, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. The dim light of the gas lamps cast a warm, golden glow over the worn wooden surfaces, creating an almost intimate atmosphere despite the throng of patrons.

Thomas sat in a corner booth, his back against the wall, eyes scanning the room with a calculated indifference. His suit, impeccably tailored, clung to his frame with an air of authority. He had just finished a conversation with a couple of local businessmen, deals and threats interwoven with the ease of a man who knew his power. Arthur burst through the doors, his presence a stark contrast to the quiet control that Thomas exuded. The pub fell silent for a moment as everyone turned to look. Arthur’s face was a mask of urgency, his eyes wild. John, Finn, Michael, Isaiah, and their father followed closely behind, their expressions grim. Johnny Dogs lingered at the rear, his sharp eyes taking in every detail.

"EVERYONE! CLEAR OUT! BY ORDER OF THE PEAKY FUCKING BLINDERS!" Arthur’s voice cut through the air, leaving no room for argument. The patrons scrambled to leave, their conversations halting abruptly. Chairs scraped against the floor, and the sound of hurried footsteps filled the pub as it emptied out, leaving only the Shelby clan and their close associates.

Thomas’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene, a sense of foreboding settling over him like a dark cloud. He rose slowly, the weight of his gaze heavy on Arthur. "What's goin' on, Arthur?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a warning of the storm brewing beneath the surface. John stepped forward, it would be better if he said it; his face pale and his eyes wide with dread. "Thomas...Sabini, they found Polly's home. And you remember your wife sayin' she was goin' to talk to Polly about somethin'? Well, they fuckin' took her."

Thomas froze, the words hitting him like a physical blow. His eyes darkened, filling with a cold, murderous rage. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a slow, steady drumbeat of fury. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching with barely restrained violence. He didn't speak for a moment, the silence heavy with the weight of his anger. Arthur exchanged glances with the rest of the men, seeking their silent agreement. They nodded, their faces set with determination. Arthur took a deep breath, steeling himself. "Thomas... she went to Polly because... she's havin' your kid. She's pregnant."

The room seemed to spin for a moment as Thomas processed the information. His wife, his angel in this cold, dark world, was pregnant. And now she was in the hands of his enemies. A growl escaped his throat, low and dangerous. "Those bastards..."

He turned abruptly, his mind already working through the logistics of what needed to be done. His anger sharpened his focus, turning it into a deadly precision. He barked orders to the men, his voice cold and authoritative. "Finn, get the car ready. Isaiah , gather the weapons and petrol; John, Michael, Arthur, you're comin' with me. Johnny, find out where they took her."

The men sprang into action, their movements quick and efficient. Thomas paced the room, his mind racing. He thought of his wife, her gentle smile, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him. She was the light in his life, the warmth that kept the darkness at bay. And now she was carrying his child, their future, and he would move heaven and earth to bring her back safely. He pictured her at Polly’s house, the way she would have sat at the kitchen table, her small frame dwarfed by the large wooden furniture. He imagined her talking to Polly, her voice soft and filled with excitement about the baby. And then the fear she must have felt when Sabini’s men burst in. The thought of her being scared, of her being hurt, made his blood boil. Thomas grabbed his cap, the razor blades sewn into the brim glinting ominously in the dim light. He slid it on, the familiar weight grounding him. He was Thomas Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, and no one threatened his family without paying the price. He glanced around at his men, their faces set with the same determination he felt. They were ready, and so was he.

As they piled into the car, Thomas’s mind was a whirlwind of plans and contingencies. He ran through every possible scenario, every potential outcome. He couldn’t afford to make a mistake, not when so much was at stake. He clenched his fists, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. His wife’s face floated in front of him, her eyes filled with love and trust. He wouldn’t let her down. The drive to Polly’s house was tense, the silence in the car broken only by the occasional muttered curse. Thomas stared out the window, his mind a storm of thoughts. He had always been a man of action, but this time it was different. This time it was personal. He could feel the weight of the responsibility pressing down on him, but it only made him more determined.

The Shelby family had always been a force to be reckoned with, a tight-knit unit bound by blood and an unbreakable code of loyalty. Today, that bond was tested as they stood in Polly's ransacked house, the air thick with tension and unspoken fears. Thomas, surveyed the wreckage with a cold, calculating gaze, his heart a tight knot in his chest. The familiar surroundings, now torn apart, mirrored the turmoil inside him. The signs of a struggle were everywhere. Furniture overturned, shattered glass glittering like cruel stars on the floor, and papers scattered in a chaotic swirl. Thomas’s sharp eyes took in every detail, his mind racing through the possible scenarios. His wife, the angel in his dark and brutal world, was taken. She was pregnant, carrying their future, and now she was in danger. He felt a surge of anger, a visceral, consuming rage that threatened to break his carefully maintained composure.

John and Arthur stood nearby, their faces etched with concern and barely restrained fury. Michael, younger but no less determined, clenched his fists at his sides, his eyes darting nervously around the room. Polly, ever the matriarch, sat in the corner, a bruise darkening her cheek but her spirit unbroken. Her presence was a grounding force, a reminder of the resilience that ran through their veins. Thomas approached Polly, his footsteps deliberate and measured. The silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the heavy breathing of the men and the creak of the floorboards under his boots. He knelt beside her, his eyes searching her face for answers. The sight of her injury ignited another flash of anger, but he pushed it down, focusing on the task at hand.

“Polly… how far along is she?” His voice was low, a rumble that seemed to echo in the shattered room. His accent, thick and unmistakable, lent a weight to his words that demanded attention and respect.

Polly sighed, a sound filled with fatigue and frustration. She cleared her throat, her gaze steady as she met his eyes. “Thomas, she said she thinks she’s about a month along.”

Thomas felt a tightening in his chest, a mix of fear and determination. A month. It was so early, so precarious. He couldn’t let anything happen to her, to their child. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, each more ruthless than the last. There would be a reckoning, but first, he had to find her, to bring her back safely. Thomas sat at the head of the table, his piercing blue eyes fixed on a map spread out before him. His mind was a whirlwind of strategies and contingencies, every possible outcome calculated and re-calculated. John, Arthur, and Michael flanked him, their faces set in grim determination. Polly stood nearby, her presence a steadying force amidst the chaos. The house was a sanctuary, a place where plans were hatched and lives were decided, and tonight was no different. Hours had slipped by unnoticed, consumed by the relentless pace of their search. Thomas's people had been a constant lifeline, connecting him to a web of contacts and informants. His fingers tapped impatiently against the table, a rhythm that matched the frenetic pace of his thoughts. Each call, each lead, was a thread he pulled at, trying to unravel the mystery of his wife's kidnapping. She was his anchor, his beacon in the darkness, and the thought of her in danger was a knife twisting in his gut.

John paced the length of the room, his restlessness a stark contrast to Thomas's stillness. Arthur leaned against the wall, his hands clenching and unclenching as he fought to contain his frustration. Michael sat quietly, his eyes flicking between the others, absorbing their tension like a sponge. Polly moved about with purpose, her sharp eyes missing nothing, her presence a reminder of the strength and resilience that ran through their blood. The ring of the phone cut through the heavy silence, and all eyes turned to Thomas as he strode over to pick it up. The moment hung in the air, a heartbeat of expectation before Johnny Dogs' voice crackled through the receiver. Thomas's grip tightened, his knuckles white against the black of the phone. His breathing hitched for a moment, a flash of vulnerability that he quickly buried beneath a mask of steel resolve.

"Tom, I think we've found where she's at..." Johnny's voice was a lifeline, a thread of hope in the darkness.

Thomas exhaled sharply, his mind racing. "Where are they keeping her, eh?" His voice was a low growl, every syllable dripping with barely restrained fury.

"Epsom...his race track," Johnny replied, the words sending a jolt through Thomas. Epsom, the place was familiar, a playground for the rich and powerful, now a prison for his beloved.

A smile, cold and dangerous, curved Thomas's lips. "Get as much petrol as you can get your hands on..." he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. The plan was taking shape in his mind, a path of fire and blood that would lead him to her. He could already see the flames, smell the smoke, hear the screams of those who had dared to cross him.

As he hung up the phone, the room seemed to pulse with renewed energy. John stopped pacing, his eyes lighting up with a fierce determination. Arthur pushed off the wall, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike. Michael's expression hardened, his youthful face a mask of resolve. Polly nodded, her approval unspoken but clear in the set of her jaw.

"Right," Thomas began, his voice commanding the room's attention. "We move tonight. Get everything ready. We’re bringing 'er home." His eyes met each of theirs in turn, a silent vow that he would stop at nothing to rescue his wife.

The preparations began in earnest, the room a flurry of activity. Weapons were checked and rechecked, ammunition counted and distributed. Maps were consulted, routes planned with military precision. Thomas oversaw it all, his mind a whirlwind of logistics and strategy. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, sharpening his senses, fueling his resolve. His thoughts drifted to her, the image of her face a constant presence in his mind. She was only a month along, carrying their future within her, and the thought of her in danger made his blood boil. He remembered the way she smiled, the light in her eyes, the softness of her touch. Thomas's jaw clenched as he thought of the men who had taken her, his mind filled with visions of retribution. They had made a fatal mistake, one they would not live to regret. His reputation was built on ruthlessness, a legacy of violence and power that had shaped him into the man he was.

They would learn the hard way that no one touched what was his and lived to tell the tale. As the last preparations were made, Thomas took a moment to himself, stepping out into the cool night air. The stars were hidden behind a blanket of clouds, the moon a faint glow in the distance. He lit a cigarette, the familiar burn of the smoke a brief comfort. He thought of her again, his heart aching with the need to hold her, to see her safe and sound. The sound of footsteps drew his attention, and he turned to see Arthur approaching. His brother's face was a mirror of his own determination, a fierce loyalty burning in his eyes. They stood together in silence for a moment, the bond between them unspoken but unbreakable.

"We'll get 'er back, Tom," Arthur said, his voice a low rumble. "No matter what it takes."

The journey to Epsom was a blur of headlights and dark roads, the landscape rushing past in a haze of motion. Thomas sat in the driver's seat, his focus razor-sharp, his thoughts a relentless march of strategy and determination. His mind was a steel trap, allowing no room for doubt or fear. Beside him, his brothers John and Arthur, along with Michael, sat in silence, their shared resolve a palpable force. Each one of them was a cog in the well-oiled machine that Thomas had engineered for this night, their roles clear, their purpose unwavering. The moon cast an eerie glow over the countryside, the night cloaking the world in a shroud of darkness. The Epsom race track loomed in the distance, a shadowy fortress that held his world captive. Thomas's grip on the wheel tightened, his jaw set in a hard line. This was it, the moment of reckoning, the culmination of their relentless search. His heart pounded with a cold fury, the thought of his pregnant wife in the hands of their enemies fueling his every action.

As they neared their destination, the nighttime made the race track look more unforgiving, its skeletal structures silhouetted against the night sky. The vehicles rolled to a stop, engines cutting off in a symphony of finality. Thomas stepped out, the cool night air biting at his skin, the scent of petrol and determination thick in the air. He glanced at his brothers, their faces set in grim resolve, and nodded. It was time. Finn, Isaiah and his father, Johnny Dogs, and five families of the Lee's were already there, waiting in the shadows. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension a living, breathing entity. Thomas’s eyes swept over the assembled group, his expression hard, his blue eyes like shards of ice in the darkness. Each man here was ready to lay down his life for the cause, for the family, and Thomas felt the weight of that loyalty pressing down on him.

Thomas spoke, his voice a low, commanding growl that cut through the night. "You all will round up his men, find the ones that laid their hands on her and separate them from the rest; I'll deal with those personally." His words were met with nods of agreement, the resolve of the group solidifying around him like a fortress.

He turned to Johnny Dogs, who stood ready, a small, feral smile on his face. "How many cans of petrol did you get?" Thomas asked, his voice edged with a darkness that mirrored the night around them.

Johnny’s smile widened. "Enough to burn the whole world down, Tom."

Thomas nodded, satisfaction mingling with the cold rage that simmered just beneath his surface. He looked around at the men, their faces hard and determined. This was not just a rescue mission; it was a statement, a declaration of war. They would not leave this place without making it clear that no one touched a Shelby and lived to tell the tale. The night was alive with the sound of footsteps against the dirt, hushed voices, and the metallic click of weapons being checked and readied. Thomas moved among his men, his presence a steadying force, his commands clear and concise. He was the eye of the storm, the calm center around which the chaos would swirl. Every detail had been planned, every possibility accounted for. Now, it was just a matter of execution.

As they approached the entrance to the race track, Thomas's mind flashed back to the moment he had discovered his wife was missing. The rage he had felt then was nothing compared to what he felt now, standing on the brink of action. His love for her was a fierce, consuming fire, and the thought of her in danger had kindled a fury that would only be quenched by the blood of those who had dared to harm her. He signaled for his men to move into position, his movements precise and controlled. They spread out, slipping into the shadows, their figures blending seamlessly with the darkness. Thomas's eyes never stopped moving, scanning the area, assessing every potential threat. He felt the weight of the gun in his hand, the cold metal a comforting presence.

Inside the race track, the enemy was unaware of the storm about to descend upon them. Thomas knew they had the element of surprise, and he intended to use it to its fullest advantage. He glanced at John, who was crouched beside him, his face a mask of focused intensity. Arthur, John, Finn, Micheal and Isaiah were on other sides of the track; their positions strategically chosen to cover all exits. The first shots rang out, shattering the silence of the night. Thomas moved with a lethal grace, his every action deliberate and deadly. He saw his men engage the enemy, the flash of gunfire illuminating the darkness in brief, violent bursts. He pressed forward, his focus unerring, his goal clear. He would find her, and he would make them pay.

He caught sight of a group of men near the stables, their panicked movements betraying their fear. Thomas felt a grim satisfaction as he raised his gun, his shots precise and fatal. He moved through the chaos, his path cutting a swath of destruction, his mind a singular focus: get her back. His brothers fought alongside him, their loyalty and ferocity a testament to the bond they shared. Thomas reached the main building, kicking the door open with a force that splintered the wood. Inside, the dim light revealed a scene of chaos, men scrambling to defend themselves against the onslaught. He didn't hesitate, his movements a blur of calculated violence. He shot each of the men with ruthless efficiency, in the knees, making it nearly impossible for the to run. Thomas moved to one of the men on the floor whose moaning in pain, he grabbed him by his neck and forced him to look at him in his eyes, making him look his grim reaper in the eyes.

"I'm not done with y' yet'.." Thomas said his voice cold and calculated, he let go of his neck making him fall back against the floor on his back; the man let out another pained cry. His men would be back for them, to moved them to the front of the race track; to burn them.

The night air was thick with tension as Thomas Shelby navigated through the dimly lit stable area, his boots echoing against the cold, hard ground. The moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow that seeped through the cracks in the old wooden walls. His heart pounded with a fierce determination, each step bringing him closer to the back room where he hoped to find his wife. The sound of distant shouts and scuffles filtered through the air, but his focus remained unwavering. He was a man on a mission, a predator hunting in the dead of night, driven by the primal instinct to protect his own. As he approached the back room, a chilling sight greeted him. Blood stained the floor in dark, ominous patches, and drag marks indicated a struggle. A wave of cold fury washed over him. His hand clenched around the cold metal doorknob, twisting it with a deliberate force. The door swung open with a creak, and he swiftly stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, clearing it with practiced precision. Moonlight streamed in, revealing a sight that made his heart clench: there she was, tied to a chair, her small frame illuminated by the pale glow. His wife looked up, her eyes wide with a mix of relief and fear. The sight of her, his angel, ignited a fire within him. He crossed the room in two long strides, his gun slipping back into his belt as he reached her. With deft fingers, he untied the ropes that bound her, and as soon as she was free, he pulled her into his arms. The embrace was fierce, protective, his hold on her unyielding. For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. It was just them, their hearts beating in sync, a brief respite from the chaos.

"My angel, my sweet angel..." His voice was a gravelly whisper as he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. It was a scent he had missed, one that grounded him in moments of turmoil. He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands, his eyes scanning for any sign of injury. Small cuts marred her delicate skin, but they were minor, nothing that would cause lasting harm.

"Still as beautiful as when I last saw you," he murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips before their mouths met in a desperate kiss. It was a kiss born of pain and longing, their lips moving with a frantic intensity. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, their tongues intertwining in a dance of raw emotion. When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead rested against hers, their breaths mingling. "I'm really going to be a father, eh?"

"You are..." Her smile was shy, yet filled with a warmth that soothed his soul.

Thomas brushed his thumb gently across her cheek, his touch tender. "Come on, let's get y' out of here, eh?" With ease, he lifted her into his arms, carrying her bridal style as he made his way back through the stables. The smell of blood and fear lingered in the air, but he paid it no mind. His focus was solely on her, his angel, safe in his arms.

As they emerged from the stables, the scene that greeted them was one of controlled chaos. John, Arthur, Michael, Finn, Isaiah, and his father, along with Johnny Dogs and the Lee families, were scattered around, unloading petrol cans. Blood stained their clothes, but it wasn’t their own. Thomas’s eyes flickered to the ground where the five men who had dared to touch his wife lay, their bodies broken and bleeding. He smirked, a dark satisfaction curling in his chest, before continuing to the car. He opened the passenger door and gently placed her inside, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Stay here, love," he whispered, his voice soft but commanding. He closed the door with a firm click, turning to face the others.

The moon was obscured by thick clouds that mirrored the murky deeds about to unfold below. The racetrack lay eerily silent, the stillness broken only by the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Thomas stood at the center of this storm, his sharp eyes surveying the scene. His mind was a whirlwind of anger and resolve, a tempest brewing behind his cold, piercing gaze. The scent of petrol hung heavily in the air, a harbinger of the destruction to come. John and Arthur flanked him, their faces set in grim determination. Michael, Finn, Isaiah, Johnny Dogs, and the Lee family members were scattered around, ready for the signal. The air was thick with tension, a tangible force that made every breath feel heavy. Thomas’s thoughts flickered to his wife, his angel and the way they tried to use her against him; that backfired on them horribly. A fire burned in his chest, fueled by the memory of her soft voice, her gentle touch. She was his sanctuary, and they had dared to violate it.

He strode over to the five men who were the source of his ire, their bodies already bruised and battered. His presence alone seemed to make them cower. “John, Arthur,” he called, his voice a low growl. The two brothers stepped forward, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. “I want you to move them to the front, lean them against the walls, and soak em' in petrol.” His smile was a chilling contrast to the rage in his eyes. “If you don’t, you’ll join them as well.”

Arthur nodded, a savage grin spreading across his face. “We were going to burn em' anyway, no need to tell us.”

“Good,” Thomas replied, his tone curt. He cast a glance back at the car where his wife sat, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and understanding. She knew what was coming. She knew Thomas would not let their transgression go unpunished.

The men moved swiftly, dragging the nearly lifeless bodies to the designated spot. Petrol cans were upended, the liquid splashing onto the walls, seeping into the ground. The acrid smell grew stronger, mingling with the scent of fear emanating from the men. They were too weak to struggle, too broken to plead for mercy. Their fate was sealed the moment they had laid hands on Thomas Shelby’s wife.

It took almost an hour for the entire place to be doused in petrol, every room, every corner soaked in the flammable liquid. The task would have taken much longer if not for the combined efforts of the Shelby brothers and their allies. Thomas watched, his expression unreadable, as the preparations were completed. The fire within him mirrored the impending inferno, both consuming everything in their path. Thomas reached into his coat and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced flick of his lighter. The flame briefly illuminated his face, casting shadows that danced across his features. Around him, the others followed suit, those who smoked taking a moment to savor the calm before the storm. They stood in a loose semicircle, the flickering embers of their cigarettes the only light in the encroaching darkness.

The men who had dared to harm his wife were propped against the walls, their eyes darting around in a futile search for escape. Thomas stepped forward, his gaze boring into them. “Let the world burn,” he said, his voice carrying a finality that sent a shiver down the spines of everyone present.

As one, they stepped back and threw their lit cigarettes into the building. The effect was immediate and devastating. Flames erupted, racing along the trails of petrol with a voracious hunger. The night was transformed into a hellscape of red, orange, and yellow, the heat searing the air. Screams of agony pierced the night as Sabini’s men were consumed by the fire, their bodies writhing in a futile attempt to escape the flames. Thomas watched with a detached satisfaction, his face bathed in the glow of the inferno. Each scream was a note in a symphony of retribution, each flicker of flame a testament to his resolve. The men’s knees had been blown out earlier, ensuring they could not flee. Now, they were prisoners of their own fate, their arms dislocated to prevent even the slightest chance of escape. The fire roared, its fury unchecked, devouring the building and everything within. The sounds of collapsing timbers and shattering glass added to the cacophony, a fitting accompaniment to the demise of those who had crossed Thomas Shelby. He turned away, his mind already moving to the next step, the next plan. There was always another move to make, another battle to fight.

Walking briskly yet purposefully, Thomas made his way back to the car. His footsteps were steady on the gravel, the sound swallowed by the roar of the fire behind him. He opened the door, the heat from the blaze momentarily flooding the car before he slid in beside her. The interior was a haven of calm, a stark contrast to the inferno outside. His wife’s eyes, wide and searching, locked onto his, seeking the reassurance only he could provide.

“It’s done,” he said, his voice low and steady, a soft rumble in the confined space. He took her small hand in his, his grip firm yet comforting. “They won’t ever hurt you again.”

She exhaled, a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, and a flicker of relief crossed her delicate features. Thomas watched her, his heart a fortress against the world’s cruelty but a haven for her. He released her hand, his own moving to cup her face. His thumb brushed against her cheek, the simple touch conveying a world of unspoken promises. He leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was both a balm and a blaze, a mixture of passion and unspoken love. His kiss deepened, his tongue seeking hers with a fervor that spoke of his desperation to connect, to reaffirm their bond in the midst of chaos. She responded in kind, her own need mirroring his. Their tongues danced, entwining in a symphony of shared breath and mutual desire. The kiss stretched on, each second a testament to their unbreakable connection. When he finally broke away, it was only to gaze into her eyes, his blue piercing eyes and intense, meeting her soft, doe-like gaze.

“I'd let the world burn, let the world burn for you,” he whispered, the words a vow etched in the air between them.

The fire outside continued to rage, a testament to the violence and power that defined Thomas. But here, in the car with his wife, he was just a man, deeply in love and fiercely protective. He brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her skin. The night outside was a battlefield, but inside this car, it was a sanctuary of their own making.

“Y’alright, love?” he asked softly, his accent thick, the concern in his voice palpable. She nodded, placing her hand over his, their fingers intertwining over the life they had created. It was a silent affirmation, a shared resolve to face whatever came next together.

The drive back to their home was quiet, the night around them a shroud of darkness punctuated by the distant glow of the fire. Thomas drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding hers. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with dangers and challenges, but as long as they were together, he felt invincible. His mind raced with plans and contingencies, each one centered around ensuring their safety. His wife rested her head against his shoulder, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing a soothing rhythm. Thomas glanced at her, his heart swelling with a love so profound it bordered on pain. He had built an empire, forged a legacy in blood and fire, but she was his greatest treasure. The thought of losing her, of anything happening to her or their child, was a fear that gnawed at the edges of his mind. He pushed it aside, focusing instead on the warmth of her presence, the steady beat of her heart against his arm.

As they neared their home, the familiar sights of Small Heath came into view, but they weren't home yet; they drove till they were on the outskirts. It was quiet, the sun was starting to come up; Thomas parked the car and turned to her, his expression softening. “We’re home,” he said, the words a balm to the tension that still lingered. She smiled, a small, tired smile that spoke of her own relief.

Inside their home, the world outside seemed a distant memory. Thomas helped her out of the car, his arm around her waist as they made their way to the door. The night had been long and exhausting, but the sight of their home brought a sense of peace. He closed the door behind them, shutting out the chaos and danger, if only for a while. They moved through the house in silence, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on them. Thomas led her to their bedroom, helping her undress and settle into bed. He watched her as she drifted off to sleep, her face serene and untroubled. For a moment, he allowed himself to simply be, to let go of the burdens that constantly weighed on him.

But sleep would not come easily. Thomas stood by the window, staring out into the darkness, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts and plans. He knew the road ahead would be fraught with danger, that the enemies they had made would not rest until they were destroyed. But as long as he had her, as long as he had their child, he would fight with everything he had. He turned back to the bed, his eyes softening as he looked at her. She was his anchor, his reason for everything. Thomas undressed quietly, slipping into bed beside her. He pulled her close, the warmth of her body a comfort against the cold reality of their world. He kissed her forehead, a silent vow to protect and cherish her, no matter the cost.

As he lay there, his mind finally began to quiet. The night’s events would leave scars, but they would also strengthen the resolve he had to keep his family safe. He closed his eyes, the sound of her breathing lulling him into a fitful sleep. The fire outside might rage, but here, in their bed, there was peace, if only for a moment. Thomas knew that the battles would continue, that the fight for their survival was far from over. But with her by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope, a spark of light in the darkness. He tightened his hold on her, his heart a silent promise to never let go. In the midst of chaos, she was his sanctuary, his angel in a world of shadows. And as sleep finally claimed him, Thomas dreamed not of fires and battles, but of a future where they could find peace, a future where their child could grow up safe and loved. It was a dream worth fighting for, a dream worth burning the world down to protect.

Authors Notes:

Don't worry the three asks are being worked on, I just wanted to get this one out because I haven't seen anyone do this song yet or they have and I haven't seen it. But I wanted to do a Jonathan one, because he's fucking mental about his lover but idk it wouldn't click.

Have any idea's please hit me up!!! Love you all xoxo

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noforkingclue · 5 months ago

Note

Evening, I have that idea of a tommy Shelby x wife reader for days. It's more an the tiny side so reader walks to tommy, doesn't matter if he's alone or now and it's like "do you have a affair?" Tommy is puzzled because "of course not the fuck?!" OK, I believe you and I don't know if it should calm me down, because then it means that your son had a girl in the car I have fin her bra" and it more about the awkward family stuff when their realized that their son isr not so little anymore

Note: requests are currently closed

Yes of course! Sorry it took so long to publish. Hope you like the fic :D

Title: Found Out

Warnings: some suggestive content but nothing nsfw, mentions of past cheating

The door to Tommy’s office slammed open and you glared at your husband. John and Arthur glanced between the two of you as you stormed over to Tommy. Tommy frowned and put down the paperwork he was looking at, confused about why you were so angry. You stopped directly in front of his desk and glared down at him.

“Thomas,” you said, your voice icy, “is there anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Tell you what, love?” he asked

“Have you been fucking cheating on me?”

John and Arthur shared a knowing look. You had been married to their brother for almost two years and Tommy had sworn that he’d be loyal to you. Well, they knew that was too good to be true. Sooner or later Tommy would see a pretty little thing and he’d be tempted away. Tommy looked up at you sharply, his blue eyes glinting dangerously.

“Of course not,” he said, his voice scarily level, “why the fuck would you think that?”

“Because I found these in my car.”

You slammed down a pair of underwear that clearly belonged to a woman. John choked on his whiskey.

“I think you two should leave,” said Tommy, his eyes never leaving you, “right now.”

Arthur quickly stood up and practically dragged John out of the room. You looked over your shoulder before marching over and checking that they (mainly John) weren’t listening in at the door. When you were certain that you and Tommy were alone and made your way back over to the desk. You folded your arms and looked down at the offending object. Tommy picked up a pen and used it to pick up the underwear.

“If this is your way of telling me that you purchased something new,” he said, “well, it leaves much to be desired. I can think of other more enjoyable ways of showing me your underwear.”

He put them down and relaxed back in his chair. You wrinkled your nose and said,

“You really think I’d wear something like that? Those are clearly for a much younger woman.”

You collapsed into a chair and said,

“If you are fucking another woman I’d rather have you tell me. I don’t want to be humiliated by having everyone know about your little mistress. Tell me so I know what to do.”

Tommy sighed and stood up. He poured you both a large drink and handed one of the glasses to you. You took a large gulp and Tommy leant against his desk.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” he asked

“No.”

“So why would I be lying to you now?”

You gave him an unimpressed look and raised your eyebrows. Tommy sighed and took a sip of his own drink. He’ll admit, but only to himself, that his past behaviour with other women might cause you to be suspicious. You had every right to act like this, even if he didn’t necessarily like it.

“And you found these in your car.” he said

“Yes. In the back seat.”

You shook your head and took another gulp. You stood up and slammed your empty glass on the table. You walked over to the window and looked out of it as you tried to figure out who would used your car to-

You closed your eyes and let out a groan. Tommy gave you a knowing smile as you turned to face him.

“Charlie,” you said as Tommy nodded, “I knew I shouldn’t have leant it to him. He usually never asks to use mine. That should’ve been a warning in the first place.”

“He’s not a child anymore,” said Tommy, “we should’ve been expecting this.”

“I know,” you came and sat down next to him and rested your head against his shoulder, “I know. But in my car, Tom.”

Tommy wrapped an arm around you and pressed a kiss against the side of your head.

“That’s what you sound most upset about,” he said, “that it was in your car.”

“I would’ve preferred it if he did it in a bedroom,” you said, “or someone else’s car. He’s going to have to pay for it to be cleaned. Like you said, he’s not a child anymore. He can damn well suffer the consequences of his actions.”

You groaned and pressed your forehead against his shoulder.

“They grow up so fast,” you said, “it seems like only yesterday he was a small child. Sometimes I miss him when he was that age.”

“Well,” Tommy leant down, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear, his arm snaking around your waist, “I’m sure there’s something we could do about that.”

#fanfiction #peaky blinders #reader insert #request #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

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queenshelby · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Desire (Part 17)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

When an invitation to Tommy's wedding arrived, it was like a tsunami of feelings struck your spirit, shocking you to your core and leaving you breathless even after it passed.

Deep down you knew, deep down, that you would never forget the consequences that would run through your family's very roots if you turned down the invitation to his wedding. However, in the midst of this profound insight, your contemplative mind wondered if the heavy weight of emotional turmoil that this occasion bore was truly worth the endurance and perseverance it required.

Your father Arthur had gone silent, not a word exchanged, for months on end. He did not know about your secret yet, namely that, several months ago, you gave birth to a healthy baby boy. In fact, no one knew other than Ada and, luckily for you, Ada vowed to honour her commitment of utmost secrecy to you, valiantly concealing her own penetrating doubts about the progenitor's identity, yet lacking verifiable certainty.

Two months had passed since her last visit, when destiny laid bare the truth before her very eyes. The arrival was an unforeseen surprise but, she has been supporting you ever since. Being a single mother herself, she understood what you needed and this was emotional support and encouragement especially after you told her that you never intended to carry this pregnancy to term.

By a cruel twist of fate, it was discovered at the last minute that you were expecting your uncle's child. Termination was an unthinkable option by this point and one that you fiercely denied as you had already carried your son for twenty weeks without showing. It was confusing to you having to go through this alone but, in the end, you managed surprisingly fine.

Then, after you gave birth, in the midst of a maze of people, you met a kind hearted doctor named Robert who looked after your son after he was born.

Rich and well-connected, Robert seemed like a perfect match for you. He was kind and loving, treating your son as if he was his own. He was a man of unwavering dependability, someone you could always count on. However, a sense of unease crept over you when he expressed his desire to accompany you and your son on the imminent journey to Birmingham.

Robert was blissfully ignorant of the fact that your son was born out of the covert union between you and your very own uncle as, for months, you had been entwined in a web of forbidden passion and secrecy. He also had no idea how powerful your family really was and that their illegal activities could potentially put him into danger. Thirdly, you knew deep down in the pit of your heart that Tommy and your father would never approve of him.

“Robert, I am not sure if you coming to Birmingham with me is really such a good idea,” you thus said cautiously as Robert looked up into your eyes with a hint of doubt on his face.

"Y/N, please," Robert said with genuine sincerity. "I will be extremely happy to become acquainted with your family, especially if you should ever feel inclined to accept my marriage proposal,” he went on to say, causing you to sigh.

"We talked about this, Robert," you said coolly, looking into his sincere eyes. "My heart and mind aren't ready to dive headfirst into the world of commitment just yet,” you told him before taking a moment to collect your thoughts and attempting to unravel the complex web of your family's past.

“You see, Robert, my family is not like other families. They have a certain toughness that comes from running those factories and gambling dens I told you about,” you casually disclosed, hinting at the lawful ventures conducted under your family's wise leadership, rather than their illegal and illicit endeavours.

Robert dismissed the statement with a casual shrug of his shoulders and said, "So what? They export machinery and take bets on horses”, causing you to nod. “There are worse ways to make money," he then told you reassuringly, cupping your face before telling you a disturbing story of young desperation. He described a terrifying reality that had occurred just the day before. Two frail spirits, who were both gently starting their fourteenth year, had fallen prey to the deadly grip of cocaine's seductive appeal. But even before his depressing words could fill the room, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence.

"Alright, alright! I will take you to meet my family, but you need to promise me not to bring up stories like this when you are around them. No mention of drugs and no mention of...anything to do with the prohibition and...just keep it simple...small talk only," you stammered nervously, not wanting him to create a conflict within your realms.

Robert nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting the love he had for you. "I promise, Y/N. I will be on my best behaviour and avoid any topics that may cause discomfort or conflict. Your family's approval means the world to me, and I would never want to jeopardize that."

***

As the days passed and the date of Tommy's wedding drew near, you couldn't help but feel a mix of resentment and nervousness. The thought of introducing Robert to your family, specifically your unpredictable father and secretive uncle, made you tremble with apprehension. But evermore so, the fact that Tommy was getting married to Lizzie made you sick with nausea.

You despised her and, unbeknownst to Robert, you still loved him. You were in love with your very own uncle who was a dangerous man and the father of your son, whom he knew nothing about.

This incestuous relation had kept you captivated against all odds. You had often dreamt of the day when these secret encounters would turn into an actual romantic relationship, though you realized that this will never happen.

And there lay the crux of your problem – your undying infatuation towards Tommy amidst the growing bond with Robert, even after all the heartache Tommy had caused you.

The torrid dance between love and hate played out ceaselessly inside your restrained psyche now, consuming you entirely again.

On one hand, you never wanted to see your uncle Tommy again but then, on the other hand, you longed for him more than anything else. It appeared almost inconceivable how deeply enmeshed you were in the intricate snarl of these raw, fervent emotions. And, unfortunately, as much as you hated yourself for harboring these feelings, you simply couldn’t deny them.

Love or lust, whatever it was - it was intense. Every time you heard his name, every thought of him sent waves of arousal coursing through your veins, a constant reminder of your last few nights together before you were sent to America.

One night, in particular, was engraved in your memory like a tattoo and even though, that night, you were furious about his will to send you away just over elven months ago, you resolved whatever tension there was simply by being honest with each other.

That night, Tommy told you that he loved you more than life itself but, just like life, love wasn't always fair.

Backflash...

In a backflash, you remembered how, just the night before you left for Boston, Tommy took you to a place had never taken anyone else before.

It was his sacred place, his sanctuary, nestled among ancient trees where memories whispered softly in the wind.

Located on long abandoned land which he purchased without the knowledge of his family, a Gypsy wagon stood amongst wild flowers. Inside, candles flickered softly casting dancing shadows upon rough wooden walls covered in paintings depicting scenes from his past. There, hidden from prying eyes, he felt safe enough to express himself freely and vulnerably.

"Why did you buy this land?" you asked him quietly as you dismounted your horse and secured it against one of the large trees while looking around the peaceful scenery.

Tommy's voice sounded deeper than usual, touched with emotion, as he explained his reasoning behind purchasing the land. "Because I needed somewhere quiet to think sometimes, someplace where I didn't have to worry about anyone finding me," he told you as he approached and cupped your face tenderly.

His thumb caressed your cheekbone, the tenderness evident in his gaze as he stared intently into your eyes. "Away from everyone and everything," he continued softly, his fingers brushing across your lips. "Just one more time… let us forget about who we are, eh? Let's enjoy ourselves here tonight..." Tommy went on to say and you couldn't resist the intensity of his stare nor his touch, the warmth in his voice drawing you closer to him.

"Why do I have to leave, Thomas?" you questioned him sadly, unable to mask your sorrow.

"Because, unless one of us does, I will not be able to resist this constant temptation that pulls us toward each other Love," he admitted solemnly, regret etched on his brow. His eyes held yours steadfastly, refusing to look away, seemingly willing you to understand why it must be done.

"Then don't resist!" you urged passionately, stepping forward to press your body against his firm frame. Desire surging between you two, like an electric current sparking alive every cell within your bodies.

"You know it's not that fucking simple, eh?" Tommy growled, frustration seeping into his tone. "You are my fucking niece and we both know that this needs to stop," he declared forcefully, trying to suppress the desire threatening to consume him whole. But instead of withdrawing from your embrace, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips to yours in a passionate, hungry kiss. It was as if the very essence of his soul sought release through your mouth, through your body.

As your tongues tangled, he delved deep inside, probing and exploring, seeking something neither of you fully understood. With each thrust of his tongue, he seemed to find a part of you, awakening new sensations and passions.

"Don't you dare push me away for good, Tommy" you murmured breathily, clutching at his waist, digging your nails into his skin.

"We can't go on this way Love," he groaned, sweat trickling down his temple. "I want to protect you, and the rest of my family," he insisted, pulling back slightly, yet still maintaining eye contact with determination. "We need distance," he added.

He pushed you further against the tree behind you, pinning you there as he ravaged your mouth once more, his hands roaming eagerly over your curves.

Swept up in the moment, you lost track of time, the space around you falling away until there was only him—his scent, his taste, his touch. As his hand skimmed teasingly down your throat, stopping at the base of your neck, the feeling of being desired by this man consumed you completely.

He pressed harder against you, the heat radiating off his hard body causing your nipples to pebble beneath your clothes. Unable to contain yourself any longer, you ground your hips against him, silently begging for relief.

"Please, Tommy," you pleaded, gasping for air, begging him to take you.

Tommy paused, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain control of his ragged breathing. Gathering what little composure remained, he ran his calloused finger down your neck, tracing its curve towards your shoulder blade, creating goosebumps along your skin.

Reaching beneath your skirt, he pulled down your panties roughly, exposing your feminine folds to the cool evening breeze, sending shivers running down your spine. Your legs began to quiver involuntarily.

His hot breath tickled your ear as he muttered huskily, "just one last time, eh?" before unbuckling his belt swiftly. He then unzipped his pants and pushed them down, causing his erection to spring free, thick and hard, demanding attention.

Without warning, he pushed up your skirt and made you lift your right leg so that it would wrap around his waist, giving him the perfect angle to align his manhood with your soaking wet core.

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him position himself. Desire, excitement, and fearsome anticipation melded together inside you, creating a potent mix of emotions. Your thighs trembled violently, preparing themselves for his penetration.

In spite of his best efforts to retain self-control, the animal instinct rose to the surface when Tommy grabbed hold of your ass and yanked you flush against his rock-hard cock. Then, he gave it a slight push, forcing entry into your tight, moist cavern.

"Ah! Oh god yes!" you cried out loud, welcoming his fullness with sheer bliss.

Feeling the warmth of his flesh spread throughout your entire being, you moaned, reveling in the pleasure you were experiencing.

Your head fell backward against the tree trunk as you absorbed the powerful sensations pulsing through your body.

Every nerve ending came alive with exquisite pleasure as Tommy began to move rhythmically inside you. The moonlight cast a soft glow on his rugged features, illuminating the raw passion consuming him. The air filled with the primal sounds of ecstasy as your lovers joined together in their most fervent union.

As the fire ignited between you both grew stronger, Tommy wrapped his arms securely around your waist, locking you tightly against him. He moved with deliberate precision, ensuring he hit all the sweet spots with each thrust.

"Fuck Love, you feel so good," his voice rumbled low in his chest, resonating deep within your core.

"Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, tell me how much you want it."

Panting heavily, you managed to reply, "Oh God, Tommy... I can barely stand it anymore... I want it so bad, so fucking badly... you make me feel things I've never felt before."

Tommy grunted with satisfaction, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts.

"I love you Y/N. I love you so fucking much," he said hoarsely, reaching down to cup your breast, rolling your already swollen nipple between his fingers.

"I love you too, Tommy" you moaned as the pressure built up gradually, becoming almost too intense. Sensations flooded your body, culminating in a wave of pure bliss that coursed through you as you reached orgasm. Throwing your head back, your cries echoed around the woodland clearing, filling the silence with your rapturous release and, within seconds, Tommy followed suit.

His movements became erratic, his breath coming in short bursts. Grunting audibly, he poured every bit of pent-up energy into the act, leaving nothing left for tomorrow. The earth shook beneath you, trees creaked and rustled, and birds scattered as the primordial forces took hold, claiming its prey.

Drenched in perspiration, Tommy cradled your face, tears streaming down his own as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Promise me, no matter what happens in America, you won't forget our time together, eh" he whispered, a note of desperation in his voice.

"Never," you replied earnestly, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss upon his forehead. "Our connection runs far deeper than just blood. It may change form, but it shall always remain," you said without knowing that your forever continuing connection would be through the birth of your son.

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 1 year ago

Text

Princess

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting will be blocked.

Length: 8.5K

Notes: Well we all knew I'd wind up here, didn't we.

No beta, we die like Billy Kimber

Warnings: Enemies to lovers; Reader is physically assaulted (it's described, but not shown as its own scene); canon-typical violence; one POV change, but it's very clear (imo); explicit sexual content—public sex, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough sex

Summary: You can’t get the image of Tommy out of your head, of his pale, bare skin, the sunlike rays of his tattoo on his chest. You can feel the judging glances of the men around you, hear the whispers from John, and Arthur’s knowing call of, “Oy oy,” As Tommy comes in for the day not an hour later. He brushes past you as though you're not there, and you carry on with your work as if the temperature in the room hasn’t seemed to drop ten degrees.

“I never pegged you for the type.”

Polly’s expression is nearly flat, save for a knowing, raised brow. You don’t need to ask her what she means. You don’t need to clock the glance that she throws between you and her nephew’s retreating back. You just shift in your seat a little, hands lowering to your typewriter and eyeing the stack of work waiting for you.

“Sorry to disappoint,” You offer before you begin hammering away at the keys. Polly just gives a soft, sharp hum. You expect the click of her heels to shift and fade, but she leans down, resting a hand on the desk beside you.

“He’s going to hurt you if you’re not careful,” She warns.

“He’s certainly welcome to try.”

“How many times has this happened?”

“I’m not exactly sure what concern that is of yours.”

“Will it happen again?”

“I’m not sure that’s your concern, either.”

Polly pushes out a condescending laugh, the sound washing over you with the scents of tea and cigarette smoke.

“You’re playing with fire, child.”

Her hand drops out of view as she finally straightens and draws away. Your hands work mechanically, honing in on your work. You don’t let your mind stray to the slight prickle of sweat on the back of your neck, the lingering feeling of Tommy’s fingertips yanking and grasping and pulling at your clothes, the throbbing, slick ache between your thighs.

It’s a one-time thing, you’re certain of it. It had been the wrong place, at the wrong time. High heat, hot anger, the sticky-topped table of the pub that you’d gone to for lunch.

“You ought to be at the Garrison.”

It was the most he’d announced himself as he’d plopped himself down across from you without being invited. He’d taken a sip of your pint, lit up a cigarette, and waited for your explanation—which you didn’t owe him. You’d told him as much.

The conversation had taken a fast and sharp turn from there. It wasn’t long before Tommy ordered that the pub was emptied, before he was shoving your skirt up and pushing your underthings down with a force that had left a noticeable run in your best pair of stockings.

You draw in a deep breath, shaking your head to rid yourself of the memory, the rumbling roll of his voice in your head. You push back the phantom sensations of spilled beer and scattered dishware beneath your back, of Tommy’s breath panting hot against your cheek.

The pub had been fairly full before Tommy had told them all to get out. Its walls and windows were thick enough to mask the slapping of your skin, but you hadn’t been able to silence your whines, or yelps, or moans. When you’d left slightly disheveled, you were certain that the other patrons would’ve had little doubt of what you’d been doing.

It’s no wonder it’s gotten back to Polly so quickly.

Still, it happened. It’s over, and it’s never going to happen again. You can move on.

–

“Look at me, princess. Show me those pretty eyes.”

You force yourself to relax your face just enough to peer up at Tommy. He tuts softly, smoothing his hand along your jaw, eyeing where your lips are wrapped around his cock, and the way tears from your rough gagging and coughing cling to your lashes. Tommy’s lips curl into a cruel little smile as he gives your cheek a pat, tracing the outline of his cockhead with his finger before he rests his hand on the back of your neck, shoving you down. You can’t help but gag, spit slipping from the sides of your mouth as your fingers tighten on the fabric of his pants. He leans back against his pillows, thighs splaying as he sweeps his gaze over your face. You lift your chin, swiping your tongue along the underside of his cock.

He hisses softly before he urges, “Up, get up.”

You lean back, hand still working over his spit-slick shaft. He reaches down, curling his fingers around your jaw before sweeping his tongue across your lips. Your groan is knocked loose as Tommy springs forward, shoving you back onto the bed before grasping your hip and rolling you onto your hands and knees.

It’ll be better, you’re certain—faster. You have as little time now as you did before, and it’s no wonder. You’d been on your way to work when you’d gotten…Sidetracked.

Tommy’s arm hooks around your shoulders as he pushes your underwear aside. You get no other warning before Tommy presses into you. You whimper, fingers curling in the sheets and letting your head hang heavy as your eyes slip shut. Tommy’s hips shove tightly to yours, holding still for just a moment, one long, harrowing moment. You’re just on the second from complaining when Tommy draws his cock out, then gives his hips a harsh snap. You bite your lip, trying to quiet your whines and moans. Tommy doesn’t tease or belabor it. Hell, he helps you quiet yourself as he rests his palm on the back of your head, shoving your face into the mattress.

You can’t help your smile, even as some part of you wants to roll onto your back give his face a shove in turn. Tommy pushes his face into your neck, sucking a light kiss there—enough to feel, but not nearly enough to mark. He smooths his fingers between your thighs, teasing at where his cock stretches you wide as his palm brushes against your clit. You reach back, grasping at his hip and urging him on. Your body quivers as he rolls his wrist with every thrust. It’s just enough to tip you over, to make your cunt tighten up around him. He’s not far behind, pressing his groan into your skin as his hips stutter and slam.

He sags over you, resting his head between your shoulder blades.

“Alright,” You tip your head up from the sheets, swiping your tongue against your dry lips, “Get off of me.”

He huffs a laugh, sliding out and off of you and giving your hip a whack. You roll onto your back for a moment, peering up at the ceiling. You’re not going to stick around, you just need a moment. You hear the slide of Tommy’s match against its book before you smell cigarette smoke. You draw in a deep breath, shaking your head when he holds out his cigarette case. You push yourself up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and scooching to the edge.

“Where are you going?”

“That’s a pretty stupid question, don’t you think?” You stand, straightening your underthings and reaching for your skirt where it was thrown.

“Pay you double for the day if you stay here.”

“Fuck you.”

“Was that a yes or a no?”

You roll your eyes, tucking your shirt into your skirt and straightening it. Your bag is in the sitting room, your jacket is around…Somewhere.

“Lie back down,” He urges.

“I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Where you’re going, I’m in charge.”

“You think I’m afraid of you?” You ask, turning to look at him. It’s a mistake. Laid bare, a sheet thrown over his lap, cigarette in hand, with his luminous eyes fixed on you, Tommy looks like some fallen angel from an old painting. You want him again already. It's a dangerous realization, one that makes your stomach curdle.

“I’m more afraid of Polly,” You add, plucking your jacket off of the floor and dusting it off. “She’ll have my head if I’m late.”

“What are you doing after work?”

“Something else.”

“Than what?”

You button your jacket, turning away from him and heading for his front room.

“Than whatever you were about to suggest.”

Polly’s disappointment is as heavy as it was that first time. She’s already lingering by your desk when you arrive, and she watches you with those pursed lips, that arched brow. You just clear your throat and shrug your jacket off before settling in.

“Well?” She asks.

“I’m on time, Polly.”

“Considering when you left your flat, you should’ve been here nearly half an hour ago.”

You curl your nails into your palms as you turn your stunned indignation up at her.

“You’re having me watched now?”

“We keep an eye on all of our employees. There have been a lot more incidents lately, people going after the Peaky Blinders,” She reminds you.

“I’m not in the family.”

“You work for us and people know that. You have information. It puts a target on your back.”

“Maybe you ought to just chain me to the radiator here between my shifts, then, keep me out of trouble.”

“You’d bay at the moon and piss off the neighbors. Besides,” She straightens, “Thomas likes a moving target.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head and refusing to watch her go. Polly can be a hell of a know-it-all, but as much as you hate to admit it, she’s right about this, at least. You can’t get the image of Tommy out of your head, of his pale, bare skin, the sunlike rays of his tattoo on his chest. You can feel the judging glances of the men around you, hear the whispers from John, and Arthur’s knowing call of, “Oy oy,” As Tommy comes in for the day not an hour later. He brushes past you as though you're not there, and you carry on with your work as if the temperature in the room hasn’t seemed to drop ten degrees.

“You said you wanted to talk about something.” Tommy mumbles it against your shoulder as his hand sweeps across your belly. You draw in a deep breath, eyelids heavy with fatigue as you cuddle back into his chest. It's the closest you've gotten to this being normal, though Tommy had still taken a harsher line with you than other lovers had. He'd practically had you against the door, and had only moved the two of you to the bed when your knees had buckled.

You hadn't gone there with the intention of this happening twice in one day, truly you hadn't. It had sort of just...Happened.

“Hmm?”

“You said,” Tommy lifts his chin, “When you turned up at my door,” He presses a kiss to your jaw, “That you had something you needed to discuss.”

“I did, didn’t I.”

“You see? I do listen when you speak, princess.”

You smile a little.

“Not well enough.”

“Now why do you say that?”

“If you were a better listener, I would’ve been able to state my purpose and then be on my way.”

“‘M listening now.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” You glance down, sliding your finger over the back of Tommy’s hand. “...You know Polly’s having me followed?”

“It's not just you, and it's not just Polly. It’s a precaution.”

“It’s unnecessary.”

“What do you want?”

You roll onto your back, looking up at him. “I want you to call off the dogs. I’m not a target. I’m not a threat. I don’t know anything, I wouldn’t be helpful to anyone that’s after you.”

“They don’t know that.”

“They’d be idiots to think I could be helpful.”

“They are idiots. That’s why they’re our enemies. If they were smart, they’d join up.”

“Join up?” Your brows raise. “It’s not the army, Tommy.”

“No,” He shakes his head. “It’s the Peaky Blinders.” He raises his hand, sweeping his fingers across your forehead as he seems to consider what you've said. “I’ll talk to them about backing off the patrols.”

“Thank you.”

“Was that all?”

“...Yes.”

Tommy dips his head, lips brushing across yours.

“Are you rushing out again?” He murmurs.

“Yes.”

“Go on then.” Tommy slips his tongue between your lips before you can move or speak. You raise a hand cupping his cheek and sighing softly.

“I am,” You swear as the kiss breaks, as Tommy’s lips slip down to trail the line of your neck.

“Mm,” Tommy hums, smoothing his handover your belly to swipe at your plump, slick cunt. “You know where the door is, princess.”

You start to notice it more and more. You’re not sure if it’s because they’re more overt, or Polly’s warning has made you more conscious of it, but you start to note the usual suspects around your flat. It’s always the same one or two eyeing you as you leave your front door, drawing out their pocket watches and checking the time. Sometimes they send a boy running, surely reporting to Polly what time you’ve left. Other times, they climb into a car, or into a cart and are drawn away without offering you a ride (which, in your opinion, is fairly poor form). But after a few days, you can tell that Tommy's spoken to them, because they cease to appear.

The problem is, it’s not just men that you know from the Peaky Blinders that you see around. There are some that you see ducking away and glancing back warily, men in dark coats with a patch that you can’t quite make out on their arms.

You see the same men around the offices, too, but you figure that the Peaky Blinders are already aware. They must know—they have eyes and ears all over the city. If there was something to be done about whoever those men are, they’d surely have done it by now.

Still, you consider mentioning it to one of them.

Arthur would just make fun of you, and John would probably make a pass, offer to guard the other side of your bed. You could tell Polly, but you don’t want an I told you so, or a lecture. You could tell Ada, but she may wave your concerns off, remind you that this is plenty normal. Tommy...Well, Tommy would surely take your worry as a chance to set the patrol back on again. So you choose to keep your mouth shut.

How could you know it would prove to be such a costly mistake?

You know that you look a sight.

Any mirth or amusement that Tommy had at the fact you were on his doorstep again, any slick words about your not being able to keep away long, appear to die on his tongue. He reaches out, gripping you by the muddied sleeve and tugging you inside, pausing only to lock the door before towing you into the sitting room, and into better light. You shy away from his gaze, certain that your cheek is swelling, that your cut hand is dripping blood on his floor. Beneath your blouse, you know that there are bruises blooming, and you can’t imagine his face when he finally sees those.

Maybe he won’t see them. Maybe he’ll order you home, send a doctor—

“I tried Pol’s first,” You admit, your wavering, raw voice cracking open the tense silence, “But she wasn’t home. And then the Garrison, but there were so many p-people there.” You wince as your breath catches in your throat, and close your eyes as tears prickle at them.

“Did you go into the Garrison?”

“No. No one saw me…Look, Tommy, I’m sorry I came here, but—”

“Who did this.”

“—I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Princess.”

You open your eyes just a touch and can’t help but flinch when you see him raising his hands. He stills for just a moment before he lifts them to rest of the way, gently cupping your face by the jaw, avoiding the scrapes and swollen skin.

“Look at me.”

You do so grudgingly, afraid that you’ll see pity twisting his handsome features, but you find his gaze heavy on yours.

“We’re going to get you cleaned up,” His eyes search yours, “And you’re going to tell me who the fuck laid a hand on you, so that I can scalp that sorry piece of shit and make them wish that they’d never been born.”

He does briefly still when he sees the bruises on your thighs, side, and stomach, but he doesn’t let it slow him for long. Maybe he’s used to such a sight on his brothers and soldiers; maybe he’s aware of the wariness with which you watch him. He presses a cool wet cloth to your cheek to help with the swelling, cleans the scrapes and cuts. He takes the longest with your hand, but that’s on you, a little. You can’t help your muscle twitching, or the sharp breath of pain that you draw in as he presses your fingers flat over the basin.

“This is going to hurt,” He warns, a bottle of clear booze hovering over your hand. He doesn’t pour until you nod him on, and once he does, he gently shushes and soothes your pained whimpers, even as you try to squirm away from the near-blinding throbbing. The cut is long, but not deep enough that you’ll need stitches.

As he tends to you, he has you tell him what happened, waiting patiently as you hesitate and stumble over your explanation:

“I was just walking home my usual way. There were these men, three of them.” You swallow thickly. “They wouldn’t stop yelling at me, and then they started following me.”

“Did you mouth off to them?”

“No. I was alone, I didn’t want to…” You shake your head. “Thought I could ignore them and they'd leave me alone. A lot of good it did me. They kept up until they had me on the ground, and I pretended to be unconscious.”

“What happened to your hand?”

“The blade was coming at my face. I panicked.”

“You grabbed it?”

“I couldn’t do anything else.”

Tommy hums, nods, asks: “Did you get a good look at them?”

You shake your head, gaze lowering. “I’ve seen them around before, but I’m not sure I could pick them out again unless I was up close…But when I was trying to shove them off, I got this.” You raise your good hand, your non-dominant hand, and hold up a scrap of fabric. The fabric is dark red in the low light, with a sewn on patch—a St. George patch. Tommy takes it from your hand, eyeing it before he murmurs, “Good girl.” He sets it aside then, urging you to lift your hand from the basin and carefully wrapping it with gauze.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” He orders. You just nod. You don’t have it in you to argue, and you know you’ll feel safer at Tommy’s, anyway.

You don’t gripe as you’re taken to the bed and given one of his henleys to sleep in. You don’t even complain about getting into bed alone. You just let the terror drain from your body as you drop off.

“God, the state of her,” Polly tuts, eyeing the girls’ swollen cheek, her gauze-wrapped hand. Tommy says nothing, just waits in the doorway and watches Polly walk deeper inside to get a better look. He draws in a deep drag of his cigarette, his cheeks sinking with it.

“She’ll be alright,” He insists, chest tight with smoke and sentiment. “I want you here when she wakes up.”

“Where will you be?”

“I have to make inquiries.” He fishes into his pocket, drawing out the fabric that she’d passed him as he was fixing her up. “She managed to get this off of one of ‘em.”

Polly frowns, reaching out and taking hold of it. “I’ve seen this before.”

“Nearby?”

“There were a few around before the patrols started. And Esme's seen a few lingering around the Garrison. As soon as they get a whiff of John or Arthur, they clear off."

Tommy sighs, the smoke pushing through his nose as he shakes his head.

“I should never have let her talk me into changing around her patrol,” He mutters.

“You did what.” Polly’s tone goes sharp. Tommy’s glance drifts back to the bed.

“She asked,” He nods to the bed. “Didn't like being kept so close an eye on. I told Scud and Johnny Dogs to ease up.”

He doesn’t flinch when Polly raises her hands, shoving his shoulders harshly as she hisses, “You could’ve gotten her killed.”

Tommy looks to the floor, his jaw tensing as he absently taps the ash from his cigarette.

“It won’t happen again.”

“The next time it does, she’ll be dead—”

“It won’t. Happen. Again,” He insists, meeting Polly’s eye. She narrows her eyes slightly before turning back to the bed.

“Go on, then,” She insists, waving him off. “Handle the bastards. Send the rats scurrying back to whatever hole they crawled out of.”

“You’ll call if you need anything.”

“We’ll be fine. Something tells me I won’t have to deal with much of her lip today.”

Tommy gives a small nod, allowing himself just one more look at her before he leaves.

You’re in and out of consciousness all day. When you’re awake, you’re riddled with pain, until Polly presses the rounded lip of a bottle to your mouth and urges you to drink. Whatever it is tastes bitter, and makes your head spin.

“There you are,” She murmurs, “Take a deep breath, close your eyes…Count back from a hundred….”

When you wake again—when you resurface into consciousness, and it holds—the sky is dark. Your head swims, and you wince as you use your weaker arm to push yourself to sit up. You’ve never really gotten the chance to look at Tommy’s room before. It’s fairly barebones, but not unwelcoming. A few books, a bottle of whisky and a glass, a clean ashtray. You wince a little as your cheek throbs, and you raise your hand curiously, skimming your fingers over the swollen skin. It doesn’t feel hot, like it did yesterday. You jolt a bit as you hear the door open, and you and Tommy go still at the sight of one another. He snaps into action before you do, raising his hand to draw his cigarette out from between his lips.

“Are you hungry?” He asks. You’re certain you should be, but you shake your head.

“No.”

“Thirsty?”

“...A little.”

“Water?”

“Whiskey.”

His brows raise, but he doesn’t ask as he walks over to his bedside table.

“Still hurts, then,” He surmises as he pours two finger’s worth.

“Yes.”

“Your side?”

“A little.”

“Cheek?”

“Yes.”

“Hand?”

“...Yes.”

“Head?”

“...Not as much hurt, but…”

“Fog.”

“Yes.”

"Mm." Tommy lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed, holding the glass out to you as he says, “That’s from what Polly gave you.”

“What was it?”

“Pento-barbital from Compton’s Chemists. Drink up.”

You take it, drawing in a sip.

“...What time is it?” You ask.

“A little after midnight.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Getting answers.”

“About what?”

Tommy tips his head toward you a touch in mocking disbelief, and you don’t need him to say a thing more. You just nod a little.

“That scrap of cloth you gave me," He says, "The red fabric with the patch.”

“Mhm?”

“Belongs to the Booth boys.”

“Out of Camden?”

“Mhm.”

Your brow furrows. “What are they doing up here?”

“Trying to kick up a fight.”

“So what happens now?”

“We give them what they asked for.”

Your stomach lurches, threatening to unseat your sip. You shake your head, looking down into your glass.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what.”

“Don’t start anything.”

“They started it, not us.”

“I’m not worth going to war over, Tommy.”

“...Look at me, princess.”

When he lifts his hand this time, you don’t jump. He tucks two curled fingers beneath your chin, tipping your head up to look at him.

“I will burn a path from here to where those bastards lay in Camden town if it means you’ll be safe. Do you hear me?” He leans back as it sinks into you, cutting through the muddle and fog in your head.

You nod a little, lowering your gaze to his hand as he rests it on your thigh. You raise your own uninjured one, gently tracing the back of it. What the hell have those hands gotten up to today that you don’t know about, that you haven’t seen? Did he fire a gun? Did he pay off a cop? Punch someone? Strangle a man? And for what? You?

“We’re upping your patrol,” Tommy warns, “And I won’t take any argument about it.”

“Alright.”

Tommy turns his hand over in yours, fingers sweeping gently over the soft of your wrist as you take another sip of your drink. You offer it to Tommy once you have, and he drains it before holding it up.

“Another one?”

“No,” You shake your head. Tommy grunts, making to stand, but stills when you tighten your grip on his hand. “Stay until I fall asleep?”

You expect him to laugh at you, but he draws his cigarette from between his lips and stubs it out. He holds the covers up, waiting for you to shuffle down and into a more comfortable position before he climbs into bed beside you, carefully curling an arm around your middle. You peer up at the ceiling in quiet, watching the shadows that the dying fire casts.

“How’s the pain?”

“...It’s been worse.”

“You want more of Polly’s medicine?” Tommy asks after a moment.

“No.” “You’re certain?”

“Mhm.”

You don’t want the muddle, even if it means the pain swells and cuts through the fog. You just want the memory of Tommy’s arm, and his steady heart and breathing, and his promise to burn the men that hurt you.

–

You get nods from Arthur and John the day you return to work. You offer them in turn on your way to your desk. You go still when you get there, brow furrowing as you spot nothing but papers. You shrug your coat off and throw it over your seat before you stride over Polly.

“Welcome back.”

“Where’s my typewriter?”

“Arguing already. I suppose that bed rest did you some good.”

“Polly.”

“Your hand is still healing. You’ll work sorting slips and counting for the next few days. Come Friday we’ll see how well you can type.”

You sigh softly, before you nod, muttering, “Alright.”

“How does your hand feel, anyway?”

“Sore. Itchy.”

“Itchy is good. Means the skin’s healing.” She holds her hand out, and you raise yours, watching as she unwraps the gauze. She tips your hand to and fro, eyeing the stretching, raised scab. “Looks better than the last time I saw it.”

“It would almost have to.”

“Not necessarily,” She gives a small shake of her head. “You’re lucky the blade wasn’t rusty.”

You give a grudging nod of concession as Polly rewraps the bandage neatly.

“Why didn’t you come to me when this happened?” She asks. “I was closer than Thomas.”

“I did. You weren’t home.”

Polly considers, lips twisting as though she’s just sucked a lemon.

“I must’ve been running an errand.”

“I don’t need an explanation, Polly,” You insist. “You’re not my keeper, and I’m not family. I wouldn’t have expected you to drop everything.”

She nods, gaze flitting to someone over your shoulder before she nods you away.

“Get to your sorting,” She orders. “We don’t pay you to stand around.”

—

That thick envelope that you receive during the following week makes you feel like they have started paying you to stand around. It’s more than you should’ve been given, at any rate. You bite the inside of your cheek, an inordinate amount of irritation welling up as you stride toward Tommy’s office.

It's been almost pleasant between the two of you these last few days, with Tommy dropping in to see how you're healing up. He hasn't touched you, wary of your still-healing body, but the bruises have faded and the cuts are nearly gone. You haven't said a word of complaint about spotting Scud and Johnny Dogs on the other side of the street when you leave your flat, or when you're making your way home.

It's a shame, you think. It's a shame Tommy's chosen to act like an ass when you've been getting on so well. You don’t knock, you just shove open his door, step in, and slam it shut again before holding up the envelope.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

He hardly glances up from his racing papers as you snap at him. He takes his damn time answering, too, turning the page before simply offering:

“Payday.”

“It’s too much.”

“I don’t hear that often.”

“You paid me in full.”

“Per our contract. Don’t like it, you can take it up with the courts.”

“Thomas.” You round the desk, shoving his paper aside. “Fucking look at me.”

His icy gaze flickers toward you boredly, a lagging pillar of ash bobbing at the end of the cigarette perched between his lips. He pointedly smooths the wrinkles that you made in his paper. You hold the envelope up again.

“I wasn’t here enough for this. I missed an entire day off and I couldn’t type again until last Friday.”

“You sorted slips. We pay you for that.”

“And the rest?”

“Injury leave.”

“There’s no such fucking thing.”

“Sure there is.” He plucks his cigarette from between his lips, tapping the ash into a dish on his desk. “Anything else?”

“Yeah.” You yank the envelope open, drawing out half of the bills and slamming them onto his desk. “I’m not fucking taking it.” You whirl away with the intention of storming out, but you hear the scrape of his chair and see the slam of his hand against the wood of the door before you can open it. The others in the office hardly glance up, though you do see Polly’s head tip a touch back toward you before she goes back to her work.

“...Step back from the door,” Tommy orders lowly. You grudgingly let go of the handle, allowing Tommy to steer you away from it and into the chair across from his desk. He steps around to the front of the desk, his arms tucked across his chest as he stares down at you.

“You were paid fairly,” He insists, “For the work that you’ve done in the last week and a half. You turned up every day, you sorted slips, you counted out cash and helped with the books.”

“I’ve slowed down the correspondence.”

“Not by much. In fact, we’ve still been moving at such a clip that I’ve considered firing you.”

Your face falls with irritation, even as Tommy’s brows raise teasingly.

“Thomas.”

He waves you off, unfolding his arms and reaching down to the stack of bills on the desk.

“You did your job, and I’m paying you for it. Alright?”

You hesitate before you nod a touch, taking the proffered cash.

“Don’t make a habit of it,” You warn as you tuck it away again.

“Understood.”

You stand, only making it a few steps away before Tommy’s fingers close around your wrist to still you.

“Will you be home tonight?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Not heading to the Garrison for a pint on payday?”

“I still have whiskey.”

“Good. Save me some.” He reaches into his pocket, drawing out the keys to his motorcar. “Tell John to drive you home. Storm’s coming in, I don’t want you walking in the rain.”

“I don’t mind it.”

“I do. Take the keys.” When you don’t reach for them, Tommy makes a pointed sigh, stepping around you to open the door. He whistles loudly before barking, “John!”

You wince, muttering, “Christ.”

John arrived a few moments later, chirps, “Yeah, Tommy.”

“Drive her home.” Tommy tosses the keys to John before he gives your wrist a squeeze and nudges you toward John. “Go on. And mind the puddles, or you’ll be the one giving the car a wipe-down. Come right back when you’re done. Family meeting.”

“C’mon,” John nods you over his shoulder, urging you out. You sigh softly, tucking your earnings into your bag and shifting it onto your shoulder. You follow John grumpily, refusing to turn and meet Tommy’s eye as you go.

—-

You almost don’t let him in when he knocks later. When you do, you just open the door and turn away without a word of greeting. Tommy shuts the door behind himself, tucking his cigarette between his lips so that he can comfortably shrug off his coat.

“What was the meeting about?” You ask.

“That’s none of your concern.”

“I tried to get it out of John, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

“Probably because he didn’t know.”

You grunt and pluck up your bottle of whiskey from where it’s been waiting on the table, pouring some for each of you. You pick up yours, taking a drink before Tommy can reach his.

“You’re not gonna make a toast?” He asks as he picks his glass up.

“To what?”

“How about my car? A toast to my car.”

“I don’t give a damn about your car, Thomas.”

“You just haven’t spent enough time in it.”

“This afternoon was more than enough.”

“I disagree.” Tommy sips his whiskey, eyeing you closely before he says, “Tell you what. I’ll take you for a drive tomorrow.”

“...What for?”

“Some air.”

“There’s plenty of air in Birmingham.”

“I’m talking about rarefied country air. Fresh. Clean.” Tommy sets the glass aside. “You spent half of last week in my bed and I couldn’t lay a hand on you. We've a lot to make up for.”

You grimace, looking down into your glass.

“You didn’t want me that way,” You insist. He frowns.

“What d’you mean?”

“Broken.”

Tommy’s expression goes dark. He sets his glass down and reaches out, curling his hands around your hips and drawing you in. Your steps are lagged, and you keep your hands and focus on your drink.

“Those men didn’t break you, princess.”

“Feels like they did.”

Tommy doesn’t answer that. He just gives you a squeeze, pats your hip, and orders, “Drink your whiskey.”

When he doesn’t stay long, or tow you back to your bedroom—when he simply tells you to be dressed in your best and ready to go by four in the afternoon—you’re certain that he was just talking out his ass. Thomas Shelby thinks that you’re as broken as you feel, and you can’t blame him.

The day is a spectacularly pretty one, and it makes you want to curse Thomas Shelby’s name. How is the day so lovely and in his favor? First the man fixes horse races, and now he’s found a way to fix the weather? Aside from a single unexpected visitor, there’s nothing that mars your morning.

You can’t deny the way that your mood brightens as you leave the city behind, driving into the open air with the top of Tommy’s car down. You almost want to close your eyes and tip your head back, savoring the sun and the breeze.

“Where are we going?” You ask after he’s been driving a while.

“You’ll see, princess.”

You sigh softly, glancing around. You take in the tall, waving grass and the rustling of leaves in the trees for silence for a bit before speaking up again:

“Polly came to see me this morning.”

It’s a moment before Tommy replies, and when he does, he seems bored and unaffected.

“Did she.”

“Mhm.”

“She have anything interesting to say?”

“Depends on what you consider interesting, I guess.”

“You clearly do, since you considered it worth mentioning.”

You go quiet again, gaze set through the windshield. She’d demanded tea, issued you a light warning, taken a single sip, and left.

“She told me that what you did wasn’t just for me," You admit. "That if you didn’t retaliate, the Booth boys would take it as open season on the Peaky Blinders.”

“...That’s true enough. Does it upset you?”

“No.”

He sighs softly, turning off of a road and down a short dirt path before he puts the car into park and shuts it down.

“Look,” He twists to face you, resting his hand on the back of the seat. “You know who I am. You know what we do. You know how we protect our own.”

“Yes.”

“If you stay in the car, you’ll hear something you may not like, but something you’ll be able to forget. If you walk past that tree line with me, it’ll change you.”

You consider for a moment, casting a wary eye toward the treeline.

“What’s out there?” You ask, nodding toward it.

“Retribution.”

Nerves twist through your body like a hot knife. Your hands flex around the purse in your lap. When you don’t move or reply, Tommy gets out of the car, walking around to your side and opening the door. He holds his hand out and crisply orders: “Decide.”

Your gaze darts warily between his hand and the trees.

“Is it safe?” You ask.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I couldn’t guarantee your protection.” Tommy takes a step closer, eyes boring cooly into yours. “Do you trust me?”

You’ve been in bed with this man. You’ve gone to him for satisfaction, for comfort, for safety. You’ve trusted him to take care of you before. Why should it be any different now?

You draw in a deep breath before you reach out, taking hold of Tommy’s hand.

“Leave the bag,” He urges to the bench seat, “No one’ll take it. There's no one around here, really.”

You set the purse aside, letting Tommy lead you from the car. The grass brushes and scratches your legs through your hose. You hear voices as you grow closer, and you slow, but Tommy gives your hand a gentle squeeze, murmuring, “C’mon.” You follow him reluctantly, dragging your feet just a little. You relax as you spot John and Arthur smoking by a tree nearby. They’re both jovial, both smiling wide, even when they spot you.

“There she is,” Arthur reaches out, clapping you roughly on the shoulder. You note his scraped up knuckles as he does, the fresh cuts, the blood.

“Took you long enough,” John grumbles, turning an irritated moue toward Tommy. “Figures you’d miss out on all the hard work.”

“It was hard enough work coming out here today,” Tommy argues, “And it’s not about to get any easier.”

He nods you closer, leading the group of you deeper into the woods. You see the holes, first, and your stomach lurches as you catch sight of something within moving. You go completely still, throat tightening with panic. This time, Tommy lets you stop.

“Tommy,” You breathe.

“Come on.”

“What did you do.”

“Jack all,” John mutters, resting his hand on your lower back as he helps to steer you closer. There are three holes side by side, long, and shallow, each with a bound, blindfolded, squirming man laying in them. Your stomach threatens to heave and unseat your breakfast; your breathing becomes tight, and nervous.

“Thomas.”

He turns on you, letting go of your hand in favor of cupping your cheeks to focus you on him.

“You can still turn back,” He says firmly. “You can turn right around and wait in the car, and we can deal with this. But you need to decide now.”

It’s a way out, a last chance. Glancing between Arthur and John, you find them watching you expectantly. You swallow thickly past the growing lump in your throat, push out the sounds of the men in the ground below you, and keep your gaze fixed on Tommy’s.

“What do you want me to do.”

“Atta girl!” Arthur’s voice thunders as he slaps your arm roughly, as John gives your shoulders an encouraging shake, as Tommy’s lips curl into a wide, proud smile.

–

“It's done now.”

Tommy’s words had just managed to push through the gunshots echoing through your ears, through the feeling of him pulling the weapon from your shaking hands, and the sight of the last man in the ground going completely still from the shots that you fired.

The ride back home had been filled with the raucous chatter of Arthur and John. It was a wonder that they had any energy after digging and filling the graves. You had sat in the front with Tommy, his hand heavy and warm, tucking the fabric of your favorite dress between your thighs. Tommy had declined an invite to grab a drink at the Garrison for both of you, instead driving you home at an almost alarming speed.

He keeps close, now. It’s not like the other night, distance and carefully measured disinterest. He’s right up against you as he waits for you to open the door. He hardly lets either of you get a glass of whiskey finished before he’s nudging you back against the counter of your kitchen. He cups your cheeks, sweeping his thumbs along your cheekbones as his eyes search yours.

“How does it feel?” He murmurs.

“The whiskey?”

He huffs a soft laugh, shaking his head as he presses his chest to yours.

“Being one of us.”

You consider, lowering your gaze to his throat. His hands smooth down the side of your neck; you can see him tipping his head to the side in your periphery.

“Does it scare you?” He presses.

“No.”

“I’m gonna need you to look me in the eye when you say that, princess.”

You tip your chin up, forcing your face into a firm set, the likes of which Tommy hasn’t gotten since you’d snapped at him in his office.

“It doesn’t scare me.”

“Good.”

“It makes me happy.”

“What we did makes you happy?” Tommy presses. “Killing a man makes you happy?”

“Keeping us safe makes me happy,” You snap. Tommy dips his head, brushing his lips gently against yours. It's genle, but it doesn't quiet your worries.

“Tommy.”

“Mm?”

“What if it doesn’t stop?”

He leans away, brow furrowing as he gets a better look at you. You swipe your tongue nervously across your lips, clarifying: “What if the Booths keep coming after us?”

“They won’t.”

“But if they do—”

“I’ll handle it.”

“But if you need help—”

“That’s for the boys an’ me to handle.”

“Then why’d you have me there today?”

“That wasn’t for me, princess. That was for you.”

Your brow furrows, and Tommy tuts softly.

“I told you,” He strokes his knuckles along your previously-swollen cheek. “Retribution. You needed it.”

“And you’ll always do what’s best for me?”

Tommy pushes a soft sigh out through his nose, gripping your chin up and tipping your head toward him.

“I will do what’s best as I see fit.”

“For me?”

“For everyone.”

“For yourself.”

“What d’you want? Mm?” His grip tightens on your jaw. “You want me to fall all over you, swear my undying love and fealty? You want me to tell you that I'll only act with you in mind? You listen to me, and you listen close. You’re never going to get that from me, princess.”

You nod slightly, a lump forming in your throat as you mumble, “I know.”

“Then don’t ask it of me.”

“Then don’t,” You lean into it, your resolve hardening, “Feed me a crock of shit, that you’re going to—burn a path from here to Camden just because someone touched me.”

“The only person in the world that gets to touch you is me. You know I’m never going to hurt you.”

“Polly told me you would.”

“Polly says a lot of things.”

“She always means them.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s always right.”

“You sure about that?”

“Oh, I’d put money on it. I’m a gambling man, princess.”

Tommy’s kiss is biting and swift, and it makes your stomach flutter. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he uses his grasp on your jaw to steer you back against your rickety kitchen table. You let him, grasping his jacket roughly and hauling him closer as you scooch back onto the table, spreading your legs for him to slot between. He lowers his hands, shoving the skirt of your dress up around your thighs. You watch as he grasps your ankle, drawing it up and deftly working off the buckle of your t-strap heel. He takes hold of the next, doing away with it with the same speed, and shifting to avoid the heels when you kick them off.

Tommy grips the neckline of your dress, giving it a harsh yank. You hear the fabric rip, and you mean to gripe, but you can’t get a word out. Tommy ducks his head, sucking harsh kisses to your neck. The ripping doesn’t stop. His biceps bulge with it as he yanks the weakening fabric roughly. It takes such force that he groans in irritation and fatigue, palms red with exertion, finally shoving the ruined garment down around your shoulders. He grins at the sight of your lacy brasserie and garter belt as the fabric drops away.

“You dressed for me, ah?”

“I thought we were going to the country for fun,” You admit, tipping your chin down as Tommy’s hands slip beneath the torn fabric of your dress, sweeping along your back. “I thought you were going to lay me down and fuck me in a field.”

He chuckles against your skin as his teeth scrape against the swell of your breast where it peeks out above the lace.

“Maybe next time,” He murmurs. “It would do you some good.”

“Your cock?”

“Country air,” He nips your skin, “And my cock.”

A giggle bubbles up in your throat, spilling over before you can stop it. You raise your hand, smoothing your fingers through his hair as he undoes your brasserie. The fabric droops, sagging around your shoulders with the ripped dress. Tommy sweeps his tongue over your pebbling nipple. You arch up against his questing lips and tongue, knees twitching around his thighs.

He draws back with a slick slurp, catching your lips as he urges you up and off of the table. You follow him back to your bedroom, wiggling your arms to shake loose the remnants of your dress, and the slipping straps of your bra. You let it fall to the ground and make to step around it, but before you can get far, Tommy hooks his arm around your middle. He presses kisses to your neck and shoulders as you reach back, working at the fastenings of his trousers. He lets go, giving you a shove toward the bed. You twist before you land, your back hitting the mattress before you slide back a bit.

Tommy raises his hands, slowly undoing the buttons on his waistcoat, then his shirt. You watch as he shrugs off the waistcoat, then pushes off his suspenders. Your gaze drifts even lower to where he’s hard in his trousers as he drifts toward you lazily. You raise your hand, stroking your fingers between your breasts. You smile widely as he watches the track of your finger, as you smooth your palm over your garter belt, then slip a finger further down, flicking at the clip holding up your stocking.

To your utter shock, Tommy kneels down in front of you. He curls his fingers around the top of the gauzy fabric, rolling it down. He turns his head, brushing his lips against your calf. He trails his kisses up and up, nipping gently at the meat of your thigh before he reaches up, teasing his fingers under the strap of the other garter.

“Undo it,” He murmurs. You reach down, undoing it. Tommy keeps his eyes on yours, nuzzling your flesh as he rolls the next stocking down.

“You’re being awfully nice,” You frown. He smiles.

“I’ve already ripped enough of your pretty things. May as well not owe you for the stockings as well as the dress.”

“And you will owe me for the dress.”

“I’ll buy you a warehouse full of dresses just for me to tear off of you, princess.”

“Make sure the seams are loose on them, will you? I thought you were going to burst, trying to rip my dress apart in the kitchen—Tommy!” You cackle as Tommy gives your thigh an honest-to-god bite before he springs up over you.

The first time is as frantic, as rushed as all the times before. The second time, Tommy lets you steer, shove him around a little, move him as you like, take what you want. The third is deliciously new. Tommy draws you onto his lap and guides you down onto his cock.

You shudder, nails digging into the pale muscle of his shoulders as you sink down onto him. Your eyes slide shut against the low light of the room, and the enduring brightness of Tommy’s eyes. You can feel him watching you, even as you tip your chin back and lean into him to just feel. Tommy’s hands smooth over your thighs as you shake around him. He presses his face into your neck, and you feel his moan as you draw yourself up before easing back down. You move slowly, your legs already burning with the rounds before. You’re sweaty, and a little boneless, but you still feel so damn needy for him. You slide your hand up over his closely-cropped hair as the two of you begin to move as one. He grunts and murmurs his own pleasure, sliding a hand down to cup your ass and urge you on:

“Just like that, princess.”

Neither of you let up until the other has cum, until Tommy is tipping you back into your mussed sheets to dot your neck with and chest with kisses. You let your thighs splay, blinking up at the dim ceiling as your heartbeat calms, and you settle.

“...Why d’you call me that?” You mumble.

“Call you what?”

“Princess,” You shift your tone to mimic him. He chuckles, nipping your shoulder.

“You used to walk around the office with your nose in the air, like we were all beneath you.”

“I did not!”

“Mm, you did.” Tommy rests his chin on your shoulder. “But it went off the boil quickly enough, once you realized that if you wanted to live, you’d have to get down on the mud with the rest of us.”

“And is that where I am now?” You slide your fingers through his hair. “In the mud?”

“Does this feel like a bed of roses?”

You smile, shrugging. “Could be worse.”

Tommy hums, reaching up and stroking his knuckles along your jaw. He seems to think for a moment before he asks, “Polly said I would hurt you?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did she say?”

“That I was playing with fire.”

“Does this feel like fire?”

“It won’t.”

“Oh no?”

“Not unless you’ve given me the clap. And if you have, Thomas Shelby,” Your smile widens as he laughs, “I’ll chop your cock off.”

“No fear of that.”

“No? Is that a promise?”

“You have my word, princess.”

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#Tommy Shelby x Reader #Tommy Shelby x You #Thomas Shelby x Reader #Thomas Shelby x You #Tommy Shelby/Reader #Tommy Shelby/You #Tommy Shelby fic #Tommy Shelby imagine #youvebeenlivingfictionalgifs

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mythos-writes · 1 year ago

Note

Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So basically tommy is a Single dad to a two year old daughter 2 year old daughter

So basically tommy is at a family meeting and you was clingy all day so Tommy past you to Arthur to hold you while you slept and when u woke up you start to cry Tommy pick you up and Rock you back to sleep and all the family make fun of him for being soft

Hope that make sense

Tommy Shelby x Daughter Reader

Word Count: 765

Warning: swearing, fussy toddler

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy still remembers the day his daughter (Y/N) came into his life. She showed up on the doorstep of Watery Lane with nothing but herself bundled up in a bassinet and a letter. A girl Tommy had a fling with ended up pregnant and didn't want to give it up. So she left it on his doorstep, leaving him with their outcome.

If Tommy had opened the door, she might have ended up at the orphanage, but lucky for her, Polly found her first. Tommy was out doing business in London and Polly was looking after Finn. As it was late at night, Polly was the only one up to hear the knocks on the door. She was greeted by the small bassinet and a sleeping baby inside, covered by a small knitted blanket. She looked up and down the Lane, but no one was in sight. Polly took her in that night. Giving the baby a bath and changing her into some of Finn's baby clothes. When she went to reach for the blanket that the baby came with, a note fell out of the wool blanket. Polly read the note and was shocked, but not surprised, at the content of the note.

When the boys arrived back, they were relatively surprised at this new addition to the family. She walked up to Tommy and handed him the letter. His eyes quickly skimmed over the words telling him the weight he was simply handed. He looked at the little girl in his aunt’s hands. He first wanted her gone, not wanting to bring an innocent child into this life. It was his way of controlling something that he couldn’t control.

Two years later, things had changed. The business and the family have grown and changed, and the young Shelby's children are growing up. Finn is 10, while young (Y/N) is 2. She had become the light in Tommy’s life. When he comes home from a long day at work or a meeting with other gangs, her hugs release his stress or anger. She is also a good distraction when it comes to family meetings.

Tommy had called a family meeting to discuss some upcoming expansions and see where the family was standing with their parts of the business. The two of them had a rough night before, (Y/N) running a fever and unable to sleep. Which meant Tommy not sleeping. Their morning consisted of little food, minus the bottle she still would take in the morning, and many micro naps between the two Shelby’s. But with the little energy that they both had, they both showed up to the meeting at Waterly Lane.

“Tommy. Why did you bring (Y/N/N) here? Usually, you leave her with Finn?” Arthur confronts. He is never opposed to seeing his niece, but when it came to these meetings, there was no place for a small innocent lady like his niece. Tommy quickly shushes his brother.

“Arthur, you wake her up you’ll be floating down the crick,” Tommy threatens in a whisper. He passes his sleeping toddler to her uncle, giving him a small break, knowing how she’ll be when she wakes up from this nap.

“We had a rough night,” is all Tommy said before he quickly moved on to the family meeting that was at hand. But because they’re the Shelby’s, the meeting doesn’t stay quiet for long.

Tommy yells. In the quietness of the room, it broke by the wines and whimpers of the once-sleeping toddler. Tommy turned to Arthur, seeing his daughter beginning to wake up.

“Daddy,” she cries. Tommy quickly took her out of Arthur’s hands and pulled her in close.

“It is ok sweety, daddy is here,” he whispers, trying to calm down his daughter. With his soft rocking, (Y/N) quickly fell back asleep.

“When did Thomas Shelby become soft,” John joked, nudging Arthur. They giggled to themselves before seeing the look that Tommy was sending them. It was Polly and Ada’s turn to laugh.

“Just because he is showing his soft side right now, doesn’t mean he won’t put you in your grave himself,” Polly defends her nephew. “John you should take some notes,” she jabs at her other nephew. John rolls his eyes before lighting a cigar.

Tommy looked down at his sleeping daughter and felt his ice heart melt a little more. The sounds of the tunnels are mere whispers in his head. Tommy knew he wasn’t a good man, but to (Y/N), he was her everything.

#fanfiction #fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #arthur shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby

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lavender-romancer · 1 year ago

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I'd Do Anything

Part One Tommy Shelby x Reader

You met when you were sixteen and from there, your lives ebbed and flowed closer and further away from one another but there was always something that brought you together.

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

1906

When you were a child your parents' marriage always seemed too difficult, with such a lack of care or affection for each other. More like two adults who had married for social convention than for love and you decided then and there that you'd never accept anything less than love.

Your teenage years had a few flings but you knew you were never in love with them, there was one boy you had met whilst watching your younger siblings play on Watery Lane with some other local children.

This boy didn't approach you initially, instead looked at you across the street with an inquisitive expression as he sat in a doorway with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. You decided to walk over to him which seemed to take the boy by surprise.

"Can I have a smoke?" You asked, attempting to start a conversation. He quickly scrambled to his feet and was noticeably smaller than you but most boys were at your age anyways.

"What's… what's your name?" He asked and you smiled before rolling up a cigarette and holding it between your fingers.

"I'm Y/n, and you?" You looked at him expectantly and he quickly brought out a pack of matches.

"I'm Tommy," he smiled and gestured to where the children were playing. "That's my brother John and my sister Ada. Arthur's around here somewhere."

"How old are you, Tommy?" You lit your cigarette and Tommy looked at you hesitantly before answering.

"I'm sixteen, I know you would have no way of realising that. I still haven't had my growth spurt." Tommy huffed and you smirked before telling him you were also sixteen. "Do you live 'round here?"

"I'm at the end of the street," you smiled "I hadn't seen you before either, if that's what you meant." You struck a match and lit your cigarette before handing them back to Tommy.

"Will I see you again?" He asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

"I suppose you will. But I'll be busier than before so you'll just have to have wonderful timing." You giggled and Tommy's cheeks went pink.

"I- I only meant that we could do more than watch our little brothers play." He stumbled over his words and you found it quite endearing.

"I'd like that. You'll have to meet me after around 5 at the school. I get extra tuition there on weekdays." You took a deep inhale of nicotine and your head seemed to clear.

"Why are you at school still?" He asked.

"Because, Tommy, I am trying to pass an entrance exam. They have a women's college in London so for the next two years I have to work harder than I have before." You felt the fogginess in your brain returning but you had to ignore it.

"I never considered leaving here and you're going to London, it's impressive." Tommy looked up at you and then averted his gaze, not wanting to make you feel he was too small.

"I have to get out of here, at least for a few years. Small Heath isn't the problem, it's my parents and their lack of concern for my education." You rolled your eyes and leant against the brick wall behind you. Tommy saw what you were doing and followed your actions, wanting to seem interesting.

"Jesus." Tommy let out a long breath and you nodded.

"There's no other way for me to break the cycle of my family never earning enough to get by and constantly being worried, I can fix it all." You tapped some ash off your cigarette.

"I can't say I could match you academically but I could definitely beat you at cards." He joked and you smiled.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You looked down at him.

"I could absolutely rinse you when you get all rich." Tommy raised an eyebrow and you looked at him with offense.

"Now that will definitely have to be tested." You smirked.

For the next two years Tommy would meet you after tuition every single day and when you didn't have tuition you would be spending the day with one another. Going on walks, visiting his family or going to his uncle's dockyard and messing about there. He was your escape from the fogginess in your brain that crept up when you thought about the future. He made you laugh and feel at ease with the world.

Tommy had figuratively and literally grown up in front of your eyes, now a bit taller than you and a lot more mature. The two of you acted like an old married couple with the way you bickered and then made up. But the two of you had never breached the subject of romance. Regardless of the Shelby brothers' teasing, the two of you had never brought it up.

You got a lot closer with Tommy's aunt, Polly when her daughter Anna was born. You loved babies and wanted to help in any way possible with childcare. Her and her brother Michael were angels to look after, most of the Shelby brood were. But they were always a bit more mischievous than the Gray children.

When Finn was born things got significantly difficult for Tommy. His mother was dead, his father had abandoned them and you didn't have the social faculties to try and soothe the hurt. You tried to help with Finn whenever Polly had to work or the Shelby offspring went to try to find work. But it wasn't the same between you and Tommy, he had taken the position of the leader of the family and the responsibility weighed on him greatly.

"Tom," you asked as you leant against the same wall you'd met in front of two years prior. "Can I have a cig?" You asked with a pleading smile, he looked unimpressed but rolled you one anyway.

"When's your entrance exam?" He asked.

"It's next week, I'm absolutely terrified. I didn't think trying to get matriculated would be so stressful after this much preparation but I'm losing it." You let out a long sigh and rubbed your eyes.

"You need time to chill out. Polly is with Finn, Ada and John all day tomorrow so we could go for a walk? Take the bus out to the countryside or something?" He suggested and you could have blushed. You didn't want to admit that you had feelings for Tommy but it was hard to not feel that way when he was just so wonderful.

"I would like that very much." You smiled broadly and Tommy bowed his head, trying to hide that he was blushing too.

The next few months after your entrance exams in London were a lot more relaxed than you thought they'd be. But it was all down to Tommy. He did everything possible to spend time with you and never even mentioned university so you could take your mind off it. All you could do was look at him adoringly as he made you tea and helped look after Anna and Finn. Polly often joked that the two of you looked like "a couple with a baby". The first time she said it you looked up from cradling Finn and Tommy looked up from spoon feeding Finn his milk. The two of you simply blushed to yourselves and never spoke of it again.

But the family was beginning to see you as a couple regardless of what the two of you thought about it. One night- more alcohol fueled than you wanted to admit- the two of you had been lounging all over one another as you drank more and more pints when someone started a daring game. Most of it was boilerplate dares until Arthur focussed his attention on the two of you.

"Tommy, I dare you to kiss Y/n!" He announced with a resounding cheer from everyone taking part. You looked at Tommy with a confusing expression and Tommy went to refuse but you put a hand on his cheek in some drunken confidence. He turned his head to look at you before leaning forward and kissing you deeply. In the back of his mind Tommy could hear his brother's laughing but none of it mattered. He was kissing you. Kissing the person who had made him anxious when they first met and now continually impressed him with their dedication and affection for others. The two of you pulled apart and both finished your pints before going up to the bar together to order another.

"Well that was…" you slurred and Tommy hiccuped which made you laugh.

"I liked it." Tommy said in a very serious voice before you both started laughing.

"I know you're definitely too drunk to remember this tomorrow but I've wanted that to happen for so long." To stop yourself drunkenly stumbling you were leaning against his shoulder with your eyes fluttering shut.

"You think I haven't?" Tommy asked as the pints came and you were convinced you misheard him.

"Huh?" You said as he went to move back to the table.

"You heard what I said!" He said happily before turning around and heading for the table. You stood for a moment and had to check your bearings, leaning against the bar. He'd wanted to kiss you? Your head was spinning and you didn't know how to process that information so you headed outside. The cold autumnal air hit you like a slap and woke you up a bit. You needed to calm down and try to figure out what had just happened.

Tommy turned around to see where you'd got to and saw your pint still on the bar. He knew it was unlikely you'd leave it so he stood up and looked around a bit before walking outside. The air also woke him up a bit and as he looked around he saw you leaning on the wall of the Garrison smoking a hurriedly rolled cigarette. He stood in front of you and took the cigarette out of your mouth before smoking some of it himself, you just looked down at his shoes and it made him shuffle uncomfortably.

"This is the longest we've been silent with one another the whole time I've known you." Tommy noted and you nodded without a reply. "What's wrong?" He finally asked and you stole back your cigarette.

"I'm just coming to terms with the fact that you wanted to kiss me." You wouldn't raise your gaze from his shoes and Tommy sighed.

"But you said you wanted to?" Tommy said, confused.

"I did, I do. But I didn't know that you did. For how long?" You asked.

"Since the day I met you, Y/n." Tommy admitted without any shame and you smiled.

"Even when you were that short I found you endearing so I suppose I did pretty early on as well." You finally met his gaze and could stare at nothing else but his eyes.

"So what are you so confused about?" He asked, taking a step closer to you.

"The eventuality that we might hate each other," You paused. "I don't know if I could live with it."

"Why would we hate each other?" Tommy seemed even more confused.

"If something happens and then the two of us grow apart and everything changes and I don't know." You trailed off and just lent against the wall and looked up at the sky.

"You're thinking too much again." Tommy smirked and you rolled your eyes.

"You're a bastard." You smiled a bit, not willing to admit he was right.

"You need to be in the moment." He said softly, moving slightly closer to you, your eyes met his before he leant down and kissed you.

You spent the night with him after that but waking up in his bed partially clothed with a banging headache, all you could feel… was regret. You prayed he wouldn't remember the night, the kiss and everything after. As you left that morning from the Shelby house you were so familiar with, you almost didn't look back.

By the following week much has gone back to normal between you and Tommy with neither of you broaching the topic of the night in question because what was there to say? There was an air of difference between the two of you but you refused to address it. You were back to hanging out together platonically, looking after each other's siblings and dealing with all the teasing about you both 'looking like a couple'. Even if you had to suppress your feelings forever it would be worth it. Tommy was worth more than a night of a drunken mishap, it wasn't that you regretted the act, you did regret the way it happened. You didn't want the first kiss you shared to be influenced by alcohol or the first night you spent together. You wanted it to be normal.

That week you received your letter from Bedford College and practically ran to the Shelby household. You burst through the door unable to speak with how out of breath you were, all of the Shelby's looked at you as if you were insane but you shook the letter at them whilst puffing. Polly took the letter from your hand and quickly opened it as you keeled over.

"Oh my god." Polly said quietly looking at the letter.

"W-what?" You managed to get out, absolutely terrified.

"You got in." She turned her head to you with wide eyes and a smile. You genuinely felt like you might faint.

"We've got an academic in the family!" Arthur yelled with a smile and even Finn started laughing happily. Your eyes fixed on Tommy and he smiled at you but his eyes were sad.

"Well done sweetheart." Polly said before embracing you in a close hug. "You deserve it."

"I think I might need a drink." You said quietly and she laughed.

Polly cooked you all dinner and sitting together you couldn't believe you would have evenings like this for a while. You looked at the faces of all of the people you were able to call your family and just wanted them all to come with you. The security blanket you'd had these last two years would be so far away in only a month. Anything you knew would be so far away and it was incredibly daunting. As you were all cleaning up, you and Tommy had been saddled with washing and drying, it had been about five minutes and he hadn't said a word.

"Are you alright?" You asked him and he nodded. "You have absolutely nothing to say to me?" You prompted and he rested his hand against the countertop.

"I'm happy for you." He replied in the most deadpan voice you'd ever heard before walking out of the backdoor. You sighed deeply before placing the plate you were holding back in the sink and following him outside. He was sitting on a rusty metal chair smoking a cigarette and didn't walk away as you approached him so it seemed he did want to discuss whatever was going on.

"Please talk to me," you said softly as you pulled an upturned box closer to sit near Tommy.

"What is there to say?" He brought his eyes to yours and you could see the glint of a tear forming before he sniffed and looked down.

"I know everything is changing, you know I love this place, I love your family I love…" you trailed off. "Anyways, you know I love it here with all of you but just because I love something doesn't mean that I can't want better opportunities for myself even if they are somewhere else. You understand what it is to want to protect people and I can do that with proper qualifications and a good job. I can help all of you the way I want too."

"We're not asking for charity." Tommy said harshly and you were taken aback.

"Charity? It would be a gift for all you have done for me." You were referring to the whole family but it felt as if your words were so directed towards Tommy you just didn't know how to express yourself.

"Everything is going to change." Tommy said simply and you rubbed the back of your neck anxiously.

"But you knew it would, for years you've known my plan." You tried to explain and he scoffed.

"It's different now. We're different now and it's not the same as before." Tommy tried to subtlety wipe his eyes but you saw it and it sent a pang to your chest.

"What do you mean?" You tried to deflect from what he was referring too.

"Don't tell me you're still pulling a 'Im too drunk to remember' excuse. You know what I'm talking about and honestly, I think we both might be finished with this conversation." Tommy stood up and tried to walk away but you grabbed his hand and then his leg and held on like a scolded child. You didn't know how to express yourself but you knew you wanted him with you. In whatever capacity that was, you didn't care.

"Please." You whispered and you heard Tommy sigh before stroking your hair.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Tommy sat down again. Your eyes were glassy and threatening to release tears at any point and Tommy knew that. You took hold of Tommy's hand and traced the lines of his palm so you didn't have to look him in the eye.

"I did what I did because I was scared. I meant what I said when I was talking about how worried I was that you'd hate me because things would change. Not that I didn't want them too but that they could end badly and then nothing would work the same as before. I'd much rather sacrifice my own happiness than our bond and the closeness I have with your family." You explained quietly and Tommy closed his fingers around your index finger tracing his hand. You looked up at him and could see the hint of a smile before he pulled you closer to him.

"The affection I feel for you would overpower any petty fight or disagreement we might have." He said softly and you smiled slightly, it tugged at the edges of your mouth like an annoying child.

"I'm sorry for leaving and-" you began but Tommy just shook his head.

"Everything is settled now." Tommy picked up your hand and kissed your palm. "I think-"

"We're going to the pub do you-" Arthur started saying as he opened the backdoor but then saw you holding hands and burst out laughing before going inside.

"Oh Jesus Christ." Tommy muttered that you could only laugh, which caused you to lean backwards and forget you weren't sitting on a chair. You tumbled backwards and hit the ground hard but you were laughing so intensely you ignored the pain.

"Fuck me, that hurt." You giggled as Tommy helped you to your feet. When you were stable Tommy kept hold of your hands and looked down into your eyes.

He was so beautiful. It took you back every time you looked at him, the way his lips parted slightly when he was near you or how his hair fell over his face so he'd constantly be pushing it back. Everything Tommy did was so endearing it was hard not to feel the way you did for him. When he leant forward to kiss you, it was the first time you had both been affectionate with one another with clear heads. It didn't feel real, like a daydream that would wander into your head whenever you were staring off into the distance- whenever someone tried to get your attention and it took a moment it was because you were usually thinking about Tommy.

"I'd do anything for that to happen again." Tommy whispered as the two of you lent your foreheads against one another.

Your stomach felt like it jumped out of your body, did an excited somersault and jumped back into your body. All you could do was smile.

next chapter

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warnersister · 10 months ago

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“Tea in the Cotswolds” Michael Gray x Reader

Michael Gray x Reader

When Thomas has business with Archibald Wentworth, a prestigious delegate in the Cotswolds, Michael is tasked with occupying the man’s adult daughter - getting more acquainted than expected.

The Blinders had expanded their business - all the way to the Cotswolds, Tommy had taken John and Michael for the ride; leaving Arthur back in Birmingham as he didn’t find this the right environment for any sort of negative articulation to be breaking out; especially at Wentworth Family Manor.

The houses became progressively larger as the carriage rolled down the cobbled street, some with drives too large to be able to see the house it belonged to at all. But eventually, the vehicle came to a stop at the looming house; substantially larger than all others. In his head, the only similar build Michael had seen to this was Buckingham Palace - large and awe-inspiring enough to be the encasings to a proud museum, contents sacred and protected.

But potentially Michael’s imagination wasn’t too far from reality.

“Right,” Tommy began, eyes flicking between the two men whom had accompanied him. “Today is a very important meeting. And i need to leave a good impression on the Wentworth’s. So we leave our egos and our guns in the car.” John’s brows creased in confusion. “Leave our guns?” “They’re not dangerous. This is legal business; real estate - dabbling a bit in the illegal side of things but not enough go start a fight. Mr Wentworth is an extremely prestigious man, as is his wife and daughter.” He told them calmly. “I’ll talk with Mr Wentworth, John you’ll talk with his missus and explain what we do: nicely. Michael - I’ll leave you to get acquainted with his daughter, yn.” “You’re leaving me with the child?” He asked, confused. “Yn is twenty.”

They were welcomed into the home by several butlers, two to open the grand doors - three to take their caps and the others to lead the family to their guests. “Thomas Shelby.” They heard, and a dignified gentleman descended the stairs, an unnecessary cain in one hand, the other wrapped around his wife as they descended the central staircase to the visitors, a young lady trailing behind.

“Archibald Wentworth.” Thomas smiled at the man and nodded out of respect. The man walked up to him and shook each of their hands firmly. “How longs it been old chap?” He asked Thomas. “Too long, old friend.” Thomas replied, and they engaged in friendly conversation as neither had seen each other since their fathers dealt with similar business in their own youth. The elder woman approached John who kissed the back of her hand and she curtsied, him remaining respectful as their shared introductions. You however, approached Michael who looked back at you fondly. You curtsied to him and he bowed slightly. “It’s a pleasure Mr Gray.” You say, voice soft and unbroken. He took your hand and kissed the back of it gently. “All mine, Miss Wentworth.”

“And please, do call me Michael.” He told you, smiling gently. “Well in that case you’re compelled to call me Yn.” Michael studied your face; never in his twenty one years of existence had he seen such beauty before. Your skin was fair and undamaged - soft to the touch. Your nails were clean and manicured with a neutral colour. Your hair was cascading down by your ears, as if instructed to sit perfectly, framing your face. You eyes were innocent yet appeared all-knowing - your mouth formed into a graceful smile. And you carried yourself with such proper dignity; it was admirable.

“Yn my darling?” Your father spoke from beside him and you turned to face him on command - trained to do this. “Yes father?” “Please will you accompany Mister Gray into the living area? I’m sure you’ll both be quite comfortable in there.” You nodded once at the man. “Certainly, father.” “It was a pleasure to meet you gentleman, and see you again Mister Shelby.” You say to the other two, before leading Michael into the living area - which was nothing short of double the size of his childhood home.

“May i offer you some tea?” You ask, as you settle in the room. “That’d be lovely, thank you.” You nod as the maid by the for stepped out to grab tea. “Normally I’d make it myself, however it is improper to leave your company unaccompanied.” You joke and he laughs in response. Soon, the tea arrived and you served it for Michael, who took the cup and saucer thoughtfully and nodded in thanks.

“It’s a lovely home you have.” You smile up at him. “Thank you, I’m sure my father works tirelessly to afford it.” “You’ve no job?” He asked, awaiting the words that he was utterly and totally in love with you. “No, I’m trained in etiquette - to be polite, to cook and to clean.” Michael listened to you thoughtfully. “So you’re kept awfully busy then?” You nod. “Busy however I don’t mind it, I get to live in this glorious building with a loving family and life skills. What more could a girl want?” You confirm and he was sure his eyes were forming hearts.

“And I’m sure you have quite the line of suitors with your beauty.” You giggled but tried to compose yourself. “No sir.” His eyes widened in mock surprise. “Surely you’re already married, how has a man not captivated a lady such as yourself. I’d do it myself if it wasn’t for the line of men ahead of me.” You looked down, blushing, before looking back up at Michael. “There is no line and there are no suitors. It is simply me, myself and I.” You tell him.

“And you Michael? Have you a wife?” You asked, batting your eyelids. “No, in your words it is simply… ‘me, myself and I’.” “And what business do you do yourself, Mr Gray?” You ask. “That is not the sort of information for a lady’s ears. It is not good business.” He almost scolds and you nod. “Oh I understand, my father is not too dissimilar. Staying safe in your business, I hope?” He basked in the way you simply understood, didn’t pry. “Not quite.” He said, raising an eyebrow. He rolled up his left sleeve slightly and you gasped. “Oh you poor man,” you say. “You must treat these with oil, that way they shall heal better.” You scold, touching his skin gently. “Well if you were my wife you could sort it out for me.” “Oh certainly Michael, I wouldn’t allow you to come home damaged as such without properly patching you up.” You say, seriousness written all over your facial features.

“And what do you do with the rest of your time, this afternoon per se?” He ponders, sipping his tea. “Well as you said yourself I’m quite a busy person regardless of what I occupy my time with.” You peer down at the dainty wristwatch wrapped around your wrist, Michael estimated the small device at a hefty sum. “At two o’clock I have etiquette lessons.” You say “and at three?” “At three I read in my library” “how about four?” “At four I have a date.” His face dropped. “A date? With who?” “William Wordsworth.” You giggled at his expression which sighed a breath of relief. “Oh I see, she lives the poems she could not write.” He says, quoting the famed poet. “More like she writes the poems she could not live.” You reply, and Michael notices a longing stare as you probably imagine the life you would have, if not the heir to an infamous delegate.

“And no man has yet compared me to a summers day.” You admit. “You have not yet met your Shakespeare.” You smile, enjoying how he understood your references. “Nor my Victor Hugo” “ah but you have not yet died so nobody may quote ‘Demain, dès l’aube’.” He spoke matter-of-factly. “For I am always the poet, never the poem.” You speak; in words of your own. And Michael cannot stop himself from reaching up with his free hand to caress the soft skin of your cheek gently. “It is impossible. How can a man write anything short of a novel about a maiden so fair?” He question, and you find yourself absentmindedly leaning into his light touch.

“You’re a charmer, Mr Gray” you speak, voice barely above whisper “I’m no charmer, just a man who knows what he wants” he leans to whisper in your ear “is it working?” He meets your eyes with a cheeky grin on his face. “Certainly.” You both finished your tea and the trolley was taken away, miscellaneous chatter arising from each of your lips.

“Madam?” A voice squeaked from the door behind you both. You spun on a pivot to look at the young maid by the entrance. “Yes Beth?” “Mister Wentworth has requested you and Mister Gray return to the foyer” she said, avoiding your stare. “Thank you Beth, we shall be there shortly.” The woman nodded before clicking the door shut behind you to allow you to make your own way there along with the company. Michael’s face contorted: annoyed, but relaxed it when you faced back to him.

“I believe it is time for us to depart.” You tell him. “When may I see you again?” He asks, holding your hands in his own. “Whenever you wish, Mister Gray; should my father allow.” You tell him, before slowly leading him back to where you originally met. There, the rest of the men along with your parents stood as you’d left them - engaged in unwavering chatter. “Ah, Mister Gray - treated well I hope?” Your father asks and Michael nods at the man. “Certainly.”

After some goodbyes and a hug for your father’s old friend Thomas, Michael smirked at you and kissed the back of your hand and whispered promises that you shall meet again.

The men walked back to the car in silence, Thomas lighting a cigarette once inside. “How’d you like her?” He asked, eyeing Michael before nicotine smoke billowed from his lips. “She’s a lovely young lady.” Michael tore his eyes away from his cousin and back to the house, hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you drove away; but to no avail.

“She’s a gentle lass. Innocent and proper.” Thomas continued and Michael squinted at him, wondering what the man was getting at. “Doesn’t need corrupting.” “I know that Tommy, what you on about?” “We’ve come to a business agreement with Archibald Wentworth. They in exchange for protection and a good deal of Shelby business, his daughter would marry a gentleman.” Thomas stubbed the last bud out on the leather of the car. “I trust you can fit that role?”

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year ago

Note

Couldn't resist sending another in after going through your prompt list for your 3.5K celebration again 😁!

"How do babies get made?" For Arthur. Please make this as awkward as humanly possible for him 😂😈. I can't wait ❤️!

Hey there Brummie! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took me a bit to write. I love that you chose Arthur for this one because I could just see him melting from the awkwardness! I hope I hit the mark!! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find other stories here!

Put On the Spot

Arthur Shelby x Reader

Warnings: awkward Arthur

Word Count: 1139

Summary: Arthur gets put on the spot when his child asks him a rather interesting question.

“Daddy!!” Arthur’s two children exclaimed in unison as they bursted through the door and found him standing by the window. He knelt down to greet them, allowing them to nearly tackle him with a hug.

“I thought I saw you two coming up the drive,” he said to the kids, glancing at the door to see (Y/N) entering the house. Their eyes locked and he sent her a smile before focusing on his children again.

“We got to go for a long walk today!” Lily, the younger of the two children, said with glee.

“Did ya?” Arthur asked with raised eyebrows, showing his interest in the story. He kept glancing up at his wife, watching as she made her way to sit on one of the chairs. The glint that was present in her eyes immediately told him that she had something to say.

“Yes! Mum let us keep going and going, all the way down to the end of our road!” Maya, the eldest, chimed in, turning to smile at her mother once she was done talking.

“That sounds like a good time. I’m sorry I missed out on it,” Arthur frowned slightly as he looked between his daughters.

“That’s ok. You can come next time!” Lily accepted his apology before quickly throwing an idea out, one that Maya was nodding incessantly at.

“I’ll join ya next time then,” Arthur agreed on it, smiling at his two girls before he set his sights on (Y/N) once more. “How did you enjoy your walk, love?” he asked as he moved over to the back of the chair she was sitting on so that he could set his hands on her shoulders.

“It was…” (Y/N) paused, trying to find the correct word to fit the situation she’d just experienced, “interesting.”

“Interesting?” Arthur questioned, his brows furrowed.

“Yes,” she affirmed.

“Interesting how?”

“Maya asked me a question that caught me completely off guard,” (Y/N) shared. Arthur’s brows furrowed deeper.

“What was the question?”

“I told her to ask you it when we returned home,” she answered as she nodded her head towards their two daughters, who were now playing. “Go ask her,” she added with a tight lipped smile.

Arthur’s eyes shifted from his wife to his daughter and back again, hesitance clear in his actions. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, a non verbal way of saying ‘go on’. Arthur looked at her for a moment longer before he slowly made his way to where the girls were playing.

“Maya…” he started, at first saying the little girl’s name like he was some shy child on the playground. Come on, Arthur, she’s eight…man up, he told himself, clearing his throat and trying another angle. “Maya, your mum said you had a question for me?” he asked her, more confidence present in his tone now.

Maya looked up the second she heard her father’s voice and was nodding instantly. “Oh yeah,” she started, standing up so that she could move closer to him. “How do babies get made?” she asked in an innocent voice, looking up at her father with her big, doe eyes.

Arthur froze when he heard her question. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack as he looked over to (Y/N), who was currently biting on her cheek to stop her laughter. She expected this sort of reaction from her husband, but seeing his face drain of its color as he mentally scrambled for an answer was even more entertaining in person.

Warning bells were going off in Arthur’s mind as he tried to figure out how he was going to respond to the child’s question. He tipped his head to the side as he weighed out the paths he could possibly take. Maya may not believe an imaginary answer, but (Y/N) would sure smack me upside the head if I went the real route, he debated his choices.

“Dad?” Maya asked, wondering why it was taking so long for him to respond.

“Uhh…” Arthur drew out the word, buying himself more time, “well, why’re you askin’, sweetheart?” he asked a question of his own.

Maya was happy to answer him: “well I was thinking back to when mummy had Lily in her belly, and I knew that she was in her belly because mummy said that she came out of it. But I want to know how Lily got put in mummy’s belly. I know she wasn’t there the whole time.”

Arthur nodded along with his daughter’s statement, thankful that she was really explaining because it gave him more time to think up an answer. That still didn’t mean that he had said answer when she was done talking though. He glanced over at (Y/N) then, seeing that she was waiting expectantly for his answer.

“Well, Maya…” he trailed off, swallowing thickly, “your mum and I love each other very much, and when two people love each other like your mum and I do, they decide that they’re going to have a baby,” he explained, silently hoping that the topic would end there.

But, of course, Maya had another question: “how did the baby get into mummy’s belly?”

“Well that happens when…”

“Alright Maya, don’t you have some school work you could be doing?” (Y/N) cut Arthur off before he could stick his foot into his mouth. He sent her a surprised, and relieved, look.

“But daddy was answering my question!” the girl responded, a pout present on her face.

“There’ll be time to answer it later. You have school tomorrow and work that needs to get done. Go on,” (Y/N) stayed firm, nodding towards the staircase.

“Fine,” Maya grumbled, turning and making her way to the steps so that she could go up to her bedroom.

Arthur looked to Lily, who had been playing without a care in the world, before his eyes found (Y/N)’s. “Why did you step in?” he just had to ask.

“You wanted to keep fumbling?” (Y/N) asked with raised eyebrows.

“I wasn’t fumbling,” he insisted, although he was unable to look her in the eye as he spoke.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself, darling,” she smiled at him as she stood from her chair. She walked over to him then, waiting until she was standing in front of him to speak again: “it was cute to watch you though,” she stated, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips before she backed away, going to ascend the stairs.

Arthur let out a huff once she was gone. He looked down at Lily and shook his head, wondering how many years would pass before she, too, was asking these types of questions. Oh how he hoped he still had some time left.

**Got a bit carried away with this one…hope y’all don’t mind!

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @just-a-blackhole @anotherblinder @christinasyellowflowers @insanitybyanothername @daisyblinder @wotcherpeak @call-sign-shark

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#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby blurb #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year ago

Text

Bubbles at the Fair

(Tommy Shelby x daughter reader)

Summary- What should have been a peaceful family fair trip still has that hint of Shelby Chaos..... John learns what happens giving Katie to the wrong man, Arthur tries to explain how Infants get fed, and Tommy leaves with a mouth tasting like soap. But hey, Y/N and Finn won't stop talking about the fun they've had.....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No it's as trigger warnings for this one really. There are mentions of an arranged marriage and we actually learn more about Tommy and Marie's relationship in the beginning and it's a bit angstyish, but the rest is mostly fluff! Oh and in one part Y/N does have to wash her mouth with soap but she's not being punished, I promise! Also remember this is prewar Tommy, so he's probably different (happier) than he usually is in cannon especially since he's with his daughter! Enjoy ❤️based off a real story ❤️

WC- 5.6K

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

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Birmingham 1912

Thomas Shelby held tightly to the rope he'd tied to his four year old daughter's pants.

Well, technically they were her uncle's pants, but none of her dresses had any loops and Tommy didn't want to lose her. The bouncy child had a habit of shooting off these days, ever since she'd learn to run, she'd see something that excited her and go directly for it. It didn't matter who else was in the way. There had been many a talk between father and daughter about not just taking off in a heavy crowd and the young girl seemed to understand. But Tommy was still a bit worried. Especially since there were so many people around now.

The sky was clear and the air was cool as it shown down on the edges of the land. It was almost June and the schools had just gotten out.

Not only that, but the fair had come to town.

Dozens of children and their families flocked to the usually empty plot of land, now decorated with small colorful tents and circus acts promising amazing excitements.

And the Shelby Family was no different.

All of them had decided to close the shop early for the day and visit the fun that seemed to have drawn everyone in the city to its colorful signs and entertaining games. Even Marie was in a good mood and decided to come along, chatting quietly with Martha who was carrying newborn Katie.

Lately, Tommy had noticed his wife had seemed to be come less content with the cards dealt to her. And while he still couldn't say he loved her (nor that she loved him) they'd seemed to find some sort of friendship for the in between, if only because of their daughter. And truthfully he couldn't blame her. It had been a one night stand that had turned into a shotgun marriage once her aunt and uncle found out why she was getting sick every morning. Originally from America, her aunt and uncle had made her stay with Tommy even after the baby was born. And while in the beginning she hadn't minded, their short lived lust still in full run, the thrill seemed to be over for her. Tommy knew Marie had begun to felt trapped by the result of that one night. And while he sympathized for her feeling the same way at time, he didn't like how her feelings lead her to treat their daughter. Everyone could see that Maria had begun to draw away from her daughter and resent the young girl almost. In the beginning she had seemed to fawn over the child just as much as her husband had, but when Y/N began to grow and cling to her father more, Maria slowly stepped back. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter. She did, but as the years past it got harder for her to ignore what her life could have been if she hadn't met Tommy that night. It was as if Y/N had become a reminder of where Marie's life could have gone and why she was stuck where she was. In a small, overcrowded house, surrounded by dirt and grime where few ever left. It certainly wasn't the life she'd planned when she came over to stay with her Aunt and Uncle for the summer, and her heart was beginning to feel more and more of its toll. She'd still let Y/N talk to her and grab her hand on the sidewalk when going to the park, but her responses had become shorter and park trips became less frequent. And the worst part about it was that little Y/N didn't seem to notice how her mother didn't smile as brightly at her drawings anymore. She didn't notice how her mother was always to busy too play tea party. She didn't notice how often her mother's side was empty, the nights she'd snuck into her parents bed. Y/N didn't notice her mother's hardening heart, but everyone else did.

Nevertheless, there were some days, like today, when Marie's heart warmed again, and she'd join the family on their outages, conversing with Polly or telling Arthur off for letting Y/N yell to loud. Those days were Y/N's favorites when both her parents were around and she was able to grab both their hands as they walked down the streets, chattering away about what she'd done with Finn. Sure, she could do that perfectly fine with her Father and Lizzie when they'd meet at the park. But for the four year old girl, there was just something special about being able to be near both of her parents, especially during the day when everyone was awake. After all, they were her parents. They were suppose to be the ones who loved her most right? So why shouldn't being around them be her favorite thing? The young girl loved nothing more than being around her family, even if it was only for a meal.

"Look Y/N there's a bear!"

Y/N squealed, turning to hug the speaking Finn as they both shook with excitement when the family passed under the colorful entrance sign. It was no surprise how close the pair was. Finn and Y/N might as well have been conjoined twins with how often they were together. Only separated by a couple months, the two had spent practically every moment together since Y/N was born. They even shared the same sleeping space as babies in the small room with Tommy and Marie. In fact, they were raised so closely Finn still had a habit of calling Tommy "Daddy" or "Da" often like Y/N did. After all, it was only natural he learn that since it's what everyone called Tommy when Y/N was around, seeing as he didn't want his daughter calling him by his name. And since Finn was always with Y/N he'd picked up on it too. Where Y/N went, Finn went, and where Finn caused trouble, Y/N was sure to follow. Almost always together, and always smiling with each other, the pair of four year olds were the light of the Shelby Family. And everyone was sure that in a few years, when Katie could walk, she'd be causing trouble right along with them. At his niece's joy, The four year old boy beamed, just as excited and he hugged onto his best friend. Finn didn't have a rope tied to his pants. Everyone knew he was less likely to run off and besides, there wasn't need for two ropes when Y/N was always holding on tightly to her Uncle some how. Be it the hand or shirt, Finn and her always had a grip on each other in some way when out in the streets. It was as if they weren't afraid of anything more than losing their other half.

"I see Finn! Daddy look! There's a bear! Ohh and there's a duck.... and there's a clown and there's that man eating fire and.. and... ahh there's so much..... Daddy it's loud."

Though she had been excited when she first saw everything, the crowd and the chaos immediately became a bit much for the young girl. Overwhelmed, she dropped her uncle's hand and stepped back until she ran into her father's legs. Still facing forward, eyes darting back and forth at the loud people and sights before her, Y/N reached behind her and tried to grab the fabric of her father's pants. She liked the fair and was still excited, but the sudden abundance of possible opportunities before her startled her a bit. She had no clue where to begin. It was a bit much.

Looking down, Tommy saw the look on Y/N face and knew she was at a bit of a loss. Reaching down, he began to run his fingers through her hair. But before he could bend down on one knee to speak to her, Finn had crashed into her, wrapping her in another hug that consisted of her, him, and the lower part of Tommy's legs. Unable to bend down Tommy could barely hear what Finn whispered to Y/N when he released the hug and grabbed her face forcing her look at him. Her cheeks were squished between his hands as he spoke with a determined look on his face. His best friend was nervous and Finn would do anything to fix that.

"Y/N. Hi Y/N! Look at me. It's Finn. Look at me."

Cheeks still squished between small hands, Y/N stared uncertainly at her favorite uncle before answering.

"...hi finn. It's kinda loud."

"Yeah but it's ok. It's ok. It's just noise."

"Just noise?"

"Yeah, like Pol bangs pans in the kitchen or Ada yells at Johnny for stealing her pillow. Or when Da says naughty words if he hits his hand on the door? Only noise. Like when Artie snores so loud Ada tries covering his head with a pillow so he can't make it any more."

Y/N smiled at her uncle's words, laughing quietly at the image of her aunt smothering her oldest uncle with a pillow.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Y/N smiled again and hugged her uncle closer for a minute more. The adults all watched in with small grins on their faces.

Then not moments later, the pair of children began to rock. Gently at first, nudging the other back and forth before, still clinging tightly to each other. Then their giggles began to grow and soon the children were twirling around in fast circles, trying to see who would fall first. It ended when they both tripped over Arthur's left foot and landed in a heap in the ground. Finn and Y/N stared at the others for a moment, blankly, before bursting into giggles again.

"All right twiddle de and twiddle dum. Ready to have some fun," Arthur chuckled as he dragged both children to their feet. Grinning eagerly at the eldest Shelby man, they both nodded.

"YESSSSS!"

"Alrighty then. Let's get to it!"

Grabbing each child in one arm, Arthur lifted them on to opposite arms and ran farther into the crowd, Y/N and Finn squealing as he speed up. The rest of the family laughed as they watched him run. John slid up by Tommy, Katie now snuggled in her father's arms as the women broke off to enjoy some time of their own without any scheming children.

"Which one do you think he's gonna drop first?"

Tommy looked a John with a raised eyebrow, his sticking arms out for his two month old niece. Adjusting the baby in his arms, Tommy was surprised at how even now, she was bigger than Y/N had been at three months. But then again, Y/N had been a month early. And Katie obviously got John's baby genes, weighing more than Finn and Y/N had combined. She was a squishy little thing full of baby rolls, burps, and love. Y/N had been so excited when she first met her cousin, eagerly stating that it was the cutest potato she'd ever seen. Martha nearly peed herself laughing when she heard, while John stood by the couch, mouth open in shock at the three (almost four) year old's audacity. From the pillow she was laying on in the her cousin's lap, two day old Katie had only stared wide eyed at the girl, while Finn dared squeeze her cheeks curiously. Now two months old, Katie made a sweet cooing sound from her uncle's arms as he tickled her belly slightly. Tommy smiled at her, before looking at John....his smile dropping. John realised it was a mistake to let Katie go. She was his only protection. With one arm, Tommy childishly shoved his brother back a few steps in retaliation, causing Katie to coo again as her Uncle laughed.

"Your Daddy's being silly isn't he Katie Kat?"

Rolling his eyes, but still chuckling himself, John stepped back towards Tommy, reaching his arms out for his daughter again.

"Ha ha, very funny, steal a man's baby and shove him while he's distracted by her singing huh? What kinda of example is that, ya shit uncle?"

Tommy only grinned at his brother and held the baby out of her father's reach. It was the same way John had done it when Y/N was this age. Now Tommy was finally able to get his retaliation. Thank you Martha for falling for his stupid brother's stupider pick up lines...

"It's a good one John Boy. Teaches her never to give up her greatest protection. If you hadn't given her to me, you wouldn't have that shit colored mud stain on your ass now. I bet Martha will find that real attractive won't she?"

Eyes wide, John spun in circles looking for the offending mark.... Only to find nothing as his brother started laughing again.

"Oh fuck you Tommy, I fucking outta-"

"What shove me? You wouldn't shove a man with a baby in his arms now would yah John boy?," Tommy grinned smugly, in the way only a big brother could. Holding up Katie and squishing her cheeks lightly he continued, "I mean you wouldn't want to knock this squishy potato now would you?"

Katie giggled and reached out her arms for her father, as she was bounced in her uncle's arms. Huffing, John rolled his eyes and stepped up to Tommy. Then as hard as he dared with his daughter's safety in mind.... John poked Tommy's shoulder aggressively as one could.

"You're a right ass you know that."

"Ada reminds me every day John Boy."

"Oi! Are you two ladies done making faces or are we gonna play some fucking...shit don't say that word tinys...or that one....Are you gonna play with us?"

Arthur had called over to his brothers from the bench he now sat on as Y/N and Finn crawled all over him. The first time he'd cursed, Arthur had remembered he wasn't suppose too around the kids, grabbed their heads and shoved them against his chest, one hand over each to muffle any more possible "naughty words" they might have heard. In protest at being restrained, Y/N and Finn struggled back to free themselves of Arthur's grasp, laughing as he playfully battered their attacks off.

"Yeah alright, just as soon as Tommy gives me my kid back."

"I was just trying to teach her a good lesson John. Ya know. Good uncle shit and all that." Tommy shrugged his shoulders and finally relinquished his niece.

Hearing mentions of her cousin, Y/N scrambled off of Arthur and over to John where she grabbed his knee in hopes he'd kneel down. He did, and soon Katie was laughing again while her cousin poked her belly the same way Y/N's father had only moments before. She talked eagerly to the baby who didn't understand a word being said.

"Are ya having fun Katie Kat? Are we gonna play some fair games?"

Katie just cooed (it was practically all she could do) and grabbed on to her cousin's finger. Tommy smiled down at his daughter and noticed something. There was a faint rim of chocolate around her mouth, and already he could tell the girl was bouncing more than usual. Looking over to the bench, Finn displayed the same traits.

"ARTHUR!? Did you already give them ice cream?"

Looking anywhere but his brother, Arthur stood up, swooping Finn onto his shoulder and started heading towards the games again.

"Ohh would you look at that! A line's forming! We better get there quick before it's too long shouldn't we Finny?"

Rolling his eyes at Arthur's antics, Tommy smirked and swooped Y/N up on his own shoulders. As long as John, well technically Katie, was besides her, Y/N would have no problem being carried. Especially if it was on her father's shoulders where she could see everything.

"Right then sweetheart, ready to beat Artie and Finny at darts?"

"Yeah!!! DARTS!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been an hour since the family had arrived at the fair and everything was going great. Tommy, John, and Arthur had all won a handful of prizes from a shooting game, as Finn, Katie, and Y/N cheered them on, clapping. Well, Katie clapped and cheered. Finn and Y/N just cheered, while taking turns with one another holding Katie as the other covered her ears from the shots. Luckily it was only pellet gun so it still didn't make too much noise. Against common sense and their promise to Polly, the older men had also given Y/N and Finn the chance to shoot the small pellet guns at the paper targets. Sitting in Arthur's lap, each child had been given the chance to pull the trigger while the older man aimed the pellet gun. The whole time Tommy was also telling them all the important parts of the gun and how to safely use it. Sure they'd definitely get chewed out for it later when Polly learned, but it was still fun to watch the children's faces light up as "they" hit the target like the older men they adored.

In addition to the shooting game, they'd also played a game involving rolling a bowling ball over a hill. This one was more fun for the kids, but Arthur's leg had ended up being a step stool for Y/N and Finn to stand on as they rolled the balls. After that the group stopped for another ice cream break. They bought three ice creams and split it between the five of them. Y/N wanted to feed Katie a small bit off her finger, but then Arthur ended up explaining why she was too young to eat any of it herself.

Why was Arthur the one to do it? Because John himself didn't know why, actually curious to try, and Tommy had run Finn to the bathroom. And so the slightly blushing man fumbled through explaining where her two month old cousin's food came from, hopefully in a way that wouldn't get Arthur hit by his brother, for his description of his sister in law if he accidentally brought up too many barn animals. Martha would kill him for doing that, and then Polly would start.

"Well Y/N, Katie doesn't eat like the rest of us. She doesn't got any teeth."

"Why? Did she loose them? I can help her find them if she wants."

"No, she didn't lose them they haven't come in yet. See, right now Katie gets her food from Martha."

"Oh because Martha makes her and John food at night. But John doesn't just eat Martha's food does he?"

"Well, actually Y/N, the stuff Martha makes isn't too ba... gaaaahh!" John opened his mouth, about to announce something that would absolutely get him wacked for saying to a four year old, but Arthur's foot on his heal stopped him.

"Ignore him tiny, the icecream has shot to his brain."

"Oh no! Does his eye hurt?"

"What?"

Y/N rocked on her feet as she stood on the bench to feel John's right eye.

"Sometimes when I eat icecream too fast it makes my eye hurt, and I go MY EYE! MY EYE!" She responded, holding her own eye for dramatic effect.

"What the fuck did you do to my kid?"

Appearing from the crowd again with not only Finn, but the women of the family, Tommy had arrived just in time to see his precious daughter grab her eye, call out for it, and fall into Arthur's lap. Seeing Finn return again, Y/N bounced up, and ran to him.

"FINNY! Guess what! Artie is telling me how Katie eats!"

Immediately, all heads shot to Arthur who seemed to shrink in his seat, aware that with the women around he'd have to tread more carefully.

"Yeah. Right. So it's like... well she doesn't have any teeth so she can't eat hard food like you or me right."

"Yeah! Artie said that she can only eat Martha's food! And Johnny said he likes it a lot too!"

Ada hid her face in Tommy's shoulder to muffle the laughter coming from her mouth, while Marie didn't even bother hiding her smirk as she supported Martha who was almost bent over laughing. Eighteen year old John looked anywhere but his Aunt's eyes.

"That's not true."

"Yes it it."

"Not it's not"

"YES IT IS!" Y/N stomped her foot glaring at her Uncle, not liking being called a liar.

"Fine!" John quickly relented, not wanting to start a yelling match he knew he'd loose. Y/N nodded her head before looking for Arthur to continue. Arthur just sputtered for a moment, not really sure how to continue or why he was the one answering. Aside from Finn, Arthur was probably the last one who should be answering this question. He was the least equipped, having no kids or tools of his own.

"Well....right. She only eats food from Martha. And Martha kinda...in a way... makes it for her."

"Ohh like a recipe. Does she get the stuff from the store like when Polly goes to buy bread?"

Arthur's face was a red as Katie's dress now.

"No no... ya see Y/N... she doesn't get it from the store, she just kinda...." Arthur gestured vaguely in the direction of the still laughing Martha's chest hoping that would've be enough to quell the girl's questions... It wasn't.

"That's Martha, Artie. Correct. You still haven't said where she gets the food from."

Arthur just groaned, wondering who he'd pissed off upstairs to deserve such humiliation. Y/N only smiled innocently, eager to hear her Uncle's words..... But Arthur gave up.

"Ya know what, why don't you ask her because I ain't telling ya. She's the one who makes it yeah? So she's the one who knows it best."

"OK!"

Skipping over to Martha, Y/N motioned for the eighteen year old girl to lean down so she could whisper in her ear, as if they hadn't been having the conversation in public only moments ago. Obliging, Martha bent down. It only took a few minutes for Martha to whisper in Y/N's ear before the four year old pulled back and looking wide eyed and pointing to Martha's chest.

"There?"

"Yep. It's pretty normal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like a bottle. Your mum probably did it too when you were a baby."

"Really?!" Y/N looked at her mother who just nodded in confirmation.

"You can... you can like have snacks wherever you go!"

The adults laughter at the child's innocent idea while, Arthur was just glad he didn't have to talk any more.

"But wait? Why did Uncle John say he...."

"Moving on!" Tommy put a hand over his daughter's mouth to keep her from opening that can of worms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Alright! I think we have time for one last game and then we have to go home alright?"

Y/N and Finn looked decisively at the booths around them, trying to decide what game to play. They'd gone around to most of the games already, but there were some they hadn't played yet. Over by the edge of the tents, Y/N noticed a small green one that seemed to have a pool of some sort underneath. Hoping there was maybe a fish she could see, she nudged to Finn and pointed over in that direction.

"Wanna do that one? It's got a tub so maybe we can get a fish! But you can't lick it this time ok."

Finn's eyes widened with excitement at the thought of a pet, while every adult present internally hoped it wouldn't be true.

"Ok! If we gets fish can we name him Jethro?"

"....I like that name, sure!"

Running over to the tent, the rest of the family followed, confused to where Finn had heard such a name. Though when they reached the tent, much to Y/N and Finn's disappointment, the tub wasn't filled with live fishy friends, nevertheless they were still excited to play. The tub was instead filled with toy rubber ducks. Tommy knew this game. It was incredibly simple, only requiring the user to pick up a duck with their hands and see what size prize they'd won. A easy game, it couldn't be any harder to get wrong, which is why it seemed perfect for the last game of the day. With something so simple it couldn't go wrong. The man running the game stood up and walked over to the group.

"Fancy a play? Everyone's a winner at the duck pond!"

"We wanna play! We wanna play!" Y/N and Finn cheered eagerly while Tommy handed over the money for each kid to play a round.

"Alright you know how to play? You get duck from the pond and whatever shape is on the bottom is the prize you get, understand?"

"Yes! Me and Finny played a game like this with our Aunt Ada once!" Y/N explained to the stranger, eager to start. She remembered having so much fun with it last autumn.

"Ok then. Start whenever you're ready."

Grinning at each-other and then their family behind them, Y/N and Finn faced the tub while Arthur gave a count down.

"Ready..... Set............GO!"

Finn immediately stuck his arm into the water and picked up a duck.

Y/N stuck her head in.

Somewhat horrified Tommy jumped for his daughter, intending to pull her head out, only now noticing how dirty the water was with its sickly green tint. John and Polly immediately started laughing, while Ada and Marie just stood in shock. Martha put her hand over mouth while Katie just gurgled happily at the water splashing her. Arthur gagged and pulled Finn back from the tub, who looked like he was about to do the same thing. Not that Y/N noticed of course. Her head was underwater.

Tommy had only just touched his daughter's shoulder when her head popped back up out of the water. She turned around dripping wet and proudly showing off the small yellow rubber duck, whose head was in her mouth.

Tommy didn't even give her the chance to spit out the duck before he picked her up and practically ran with her to the makeshift sink by the outhouses. Really it was a tub under a water pump, with a few bars of soap on a nearby stool. Placing her down firmly on her feet, Tommy grabbed the nearest soap bar and couched down by his daughter.

"Spit it out."

Confused as to why her father didn't seem happy she'd won, Y/N's brow pinched as she shook her head.

"Y/N spit the duck out now."

The four year old girl still shook her head. She'd won the duck, why did she have to give it back? Tommy's face grew stern and he took a tone he rarely did with the kids.

"Y/N spit the duck out NOW!"

Finally listening, Y/N finally pulled the rubber toy out of her mouth and pouted at her father. Tommy ignored it for now more concerned about the fact he'd seen a used cigarette butt in the water as he went to grab his child. Fuck, there were probably so many diseases in there she'd be dead by dawn. Who even allows such a filth game at a fucking fair, Tommy thought, especially without explaining how to play. Evidently the game was harder than he thought, and the standman should have made the rules more clear. Now his beloved daughter probably had the plague or something like it.

"Good, now open your mouth."

Again Y/N complied, only to be met with a small bar of soap being placed on her tongue as Tommy urgently tried to get whatever filth was in the water out of his daughter's mouth. Her nose wrinkled as the taste of soap covered her mouth and Y/N tried to hit her father's arm, knocking his scrubbing off her tongue. And though she hadn't been strong enough to do so, luckily a few moments later her father pulled out the soap. Refusing to close her mouth Y/N could feel the bubbles on her tongue and angrily tried to kick her (usually) beloved father. Tommy caught her leg, looking her in the eyes, and from his pocket pulled out a small flask with a thin green ribbon around the cap. It also had a few small flowers on top a train engine carved on the metal sides.

"Yeah yeah, I know it sucks and I'm sorry but it's almost over sweetheart. I'm gonna pour some of this in your mouth and then you're gonna close your mouth, but NOT swallow it. You're gonna shake your head and then spit it out. I repeat you WILL NOT swallow it, it's only to rinse your mouth."

The flask didn't contain alcohol. It was actually filled with juice, and he carried it around with him most times incase Y/N got thirsty on an outing. Polly and Marie had disapproved of him getting it for her, but Y/N have been delighted to receive the "small can" like she'd seen her father carry around. It had taken two months to find a jeweler willing to etch the odd design on it too, but it was worth Y/N's smile as she lit up seeing her gift, and began immediately talking about where the flower train could be going. He also carried one for Finn, but that one was currently in Arthur's jacket. It had also been etched, but with the image of the deer and turtles Finn liked to watch by the pond the family took picnics at occasionally.

"Y/N swish and spit it right now."

Narrowing her eyes, but knowing she had no other choice, Y/N stuck out her tongue letting her father pour a small amount of juice inside the mouth. Then after shaking her head twice she purposely spit the liquid back out.... right onto the toes of her father's feet. Crossing her arms, Y/N glared at her father wondering why he had to go and ruin a perfectly good day.

Tommy looked at his shoes and then back up to his daughter's hurt face. Shit. Taking his jacket off Tommy wrapped it tightly around the dripping Y/N, who now looked to be on the verge of tears. Wincing, Tommy realized that maybe he should have explained what he was doing first. Here she was, a thinking she's won a game, and he had to go and practically punish her for it. Tommy had never washed her mouth out with soap before, but he now remembered Polly half threatening to do it to him before, while Y/N sat playing on the floor. She probably didn't realize Tommy was just briefly panicking about her getting sick from whatever had been in the water.

"Y/N?"

The mentioned girl averted her gaze looking down at her feet as small sniffles began to come.

"Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry I just did that," Pulling his daughter closer, Tommy, fully on his knees now, gently placed a finger under her chin so she'd meet his eyes. Tommy's heart sank seeing the tears beginning to form. "I'm so so sorry I did that sweetheart, I was scared that you put your head in the water yeah? It's dirty and I'd don't want you to get sick."

"I ...I didn't... I didn't know that though."

Y/N looked to the side whimpering slightly as Tommy's hand came up to wipe away any remaining tears.

"I realize that sweetheart and I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to do that, and it surprised me yeah? I reacted badly and I'm sorry I didn't tell ya why I was doing it before I scrubbed your mouth. I promise it won't happen again yeah. Do you think you can forgive me sweetheart?"

It wasn't often Y/N was mad at Tommy, atleast not over big things. But it still didn't stop the pain in Tommy's heart everytime he made his daughter cry, even if he was mad at her for something else at the time. It hurt anytime he saw her cry, but knowing he'd been the cause made him feel that much worse. Staring at her father a bit longer, Y/N shuffled her feet and wrapped her father's jacket tighter around herself. Her father really did seem sorry and besides he'd never done anything like it before so maybe he was telling the truth.

"Do you promise you won't do it again?"

"Yes, Y/N, sweetheart I promise I won't do it again."

She dragged her feet in the ground for a bit, watching the mud seep in to her father's pants.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Time and time again, Tommy was often surprised by his sweet daughter's willingness to forgive and put the past behind her. It certainly wasn't a trait she'd gotten from his side of family. But then again, her and Finn always were a bit different. They were the family's chance to be raised better than the rest were. Especially since Arthur Sr. wasn't around anymore to cause the pain he always did. Maybe Y/N and Finn were a bit softer than the rest, but Tommy didn't think that was a bad thing. He didn't necessarily want the youngest two involved in the darker part of the growing family business. The one that meant he had to swap out his caps in the garage after work before coming inside to see the kids, lest they hurt themselves grabbing the blades sewn inside his usual one.

"Yeah it's ok Daddy. I'm not mad anymore. You said sorry."

Relieved he hadn't totally ruined his relationship with her, Tommy pulled his daughter close, not caring that his other clothes were getting wetter by the second. Y/N wrapped her arms around her father in response as they remained that way for a few minutes. Then Tommy let go and stood up, ready to rejoin the family.

"Wait!"

Looking back down to his daughter, Tommy saw that she was holding not only the duck, but the small bar of soap. Tommy chuckled.

"What love? Do you want to clean the duck before we go back?"

"Yes, help me please."

And so he did.

Tommy Shelby helped his four year old girl wash the small yellow duck, making her laugh with the terrible duck impressions he did. Tommy was much better at neighing like horses than quacking like a duck. Once finished, she dried the duck off with her father's coat and held it close to her chest.

"Alright? Now are we good to go," Tommy asked again. Y/N began to nod and then stopped. She smiled innocently, but Tommy recognised the look in her eye. Tommy thought his daughter had the face of an angel, but he couldn't quite deny the bit of devil in her angel eyes. That was the part she got from him. Y/N offered the small bar of soap to her father once more.

"I want you to try it."

Tommy's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Daddy, I want you to taste the soap since you made me try it. It's only fair."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn't have to try eating the soap. Besides the fact it was SOAP. But his daughter was right. He'd made her try it, and so logistically it was only fair if he did too. Damn himself for trying to teach her about taking responsibility for one's mistakes. Good parenting evidently had some drawbacks. Tilting his head, Tommy tried appealing to Y/N one more time.

"Are you sure I have to try it? It doesn't look too good."

Y/N shook her head.

"It's not. At ALL. That's why you can't swallow it. Now here."

Sighing in defeat, Tommy took the soap. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he did as his daughter asked. If only to teach her a lesson about making up for her mistakes. Lord knew he needed to get better about it himself, instead of ignoring them or making more problems to hide the small ones. Breaking off a small piece, he stuck it on his tongue, nose immediately wrinkling at the taste. Y/N's eyes never left his face, watching intently as he closed his mouth and rolled the soap around like it was a piece of candy. All of the sudden, Tommy inhaled though his nose and the piece of soap shot to the back of his mouth. Gagging, Tommy spit out the soap, grabbed the flask and desperately tried to swish out the taste.

"That is fucking disgusting....Don't tell Polly I said that word."

Y/N laughed at the small bubbles coming from her father's mouth with each spit. And despite the lingering taste it was enough to turn Tommy's own lips upwards. She clapped her hands at her father's problem, satisfied with the fate he'd been dealt. Rinsing his mouth one more time, Tommy straightened up again and brushed Y/N's hair back from her face before moving to fix his own too. Thankfully, no one else saw the dangerous gangster almost meet his end.... choking on a piece of soap.

"Now can we go back? You still haven't picked your prize yet sweetheart."

Y/N grabbed her father's hand and began to lead him back towards the booth.

"I know exactly what I want."

Hand in Hand, father and daughter walked back to the tent where their family was waiting. As they got closer, Tommy could hear Arthur threatening the vendor.

"When that little girl comes back you are going to give her whatever fucking prize her little heart desires, I don't care if it's the shirt off your fucking back, do you hear me? As far as she's concerned she won anything alright?"

Nodding fearfully, the game man accepted Arthur's words. Finn was the first to notice the pair's return, smiling wildly as he held his new stuffed deer.

"Y/N look what I won!"

Eagerly, Y/N raced over to Finn, lightly running her hand off the top of the soft stuffed animal.

"Finny he's so pretty!"

"I'm gonna let him sleep by my stuffed chicken I think."

"What's his name?"

"I'm naming his Deery because he's a deer."

"Ohh that's perfect!"

Eager to loose the threatening gaze of Arthur, the vendor cleared his throat nervously, gaining the attention of both children.

"If you like the deer you can have one too kid. You did win the game, so pick any prize you like."

Y/N looked to the pile of prizes the man displayed to the side of the tent. Turning over the duck in her hand she saw a circle which was a medium prize, the same size as Finn's deer. Pointing to the pile she looked at the vendor.

"My duck has a circle under it so I got to choose from there right?"

Arthur glared harder and Ada nudged him to tone it down a bit, but the vendor already noticed.

"Actually you can pick anything you see from the tent just like this lad did. You two are my best customers today, so you can have any prize you like. Even the big ones."

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

Y/N didn't even hesitate, beaming as like she told her father, she already knew exactly what she wanted. She stuck out her hand.

"Can I have this?"

"......You want the duck?" Tilting his head, the vendor was confused. He'd given the girl any choose of prize she wanted even the big ones, and she choose the rubber duck she'd grabbed..well bitten... from the water. Truthfully the man knew the ducks weren't the cleanest. He figured it didn't really matter about keeping them super clean when people only picked them up for a few seconds with their hands. The vendor had never seen anyone use their mouth to grab a duck. He'd have to put that in the rules now too. Y/N only grinned, holding the duck close to her chest.

"Yes please, I really like him. He's really cute and cuddly. My daddy already helped me clean him too. So can I keep him?

Still confused but not about to reject the sweet child the vendor conceded.

"Alright then girly. If you want the duck you can have the duck. Congratulations ... I think?"

Happily, Y/N bounced up and down, pleased with her duck. It fit perfectly in one hand and in her small pants pocket, which meant he could go with her everywhere. Racing back to Finn, Y/N was quick to show him her prize.

"Finny, LOOK! I got a rubber duck!"

"What is its name?"

"Ducklores, it's like Dolores but with duck!"

".....I like that! Do you think he wants to be friends with Deery?"

"YES! They can be BEST friends, Finny. Just like us!"

Eagerly the children dove into conversation over their new toys as the family walked back to the car. Despite a few bumps and bubbles it really had been a great day for the fair. Tommy's mouth still tasted like soap and he was holding the rope by Y/N's pants again but she didn't notice. She was far to distanced talking about the fun they'd had and showing off her duck to Katie. But Tommy didn't mind, because his daughter was smiling. And that's all he ever wanted. If the last thing Tommy saw was he daughter's smile, he knew he could die a happy man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N? Why did you stick your head in the water?"

"I thought it was like bobbing for Apples, Finny. But with ducks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

#tommy shelby x child reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year ago

Note

Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy.

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite.

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family?

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk.

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible.

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk.

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment.

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were.

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister.

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books.

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs.

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back.

Your stomach dropped.

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business”

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs.

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off.

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.”

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval.

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off.

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look.

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.”

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself.

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less.

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family.

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..”

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary.

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you.

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back.

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand.

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.”

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise.

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you.

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension.

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs.

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room.

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders.

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning.

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly.

“They are criminals.”

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself.

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you.

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork.

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow, you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak.

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet.

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded.

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.”

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard.

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself.

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.”

“Thomas.”

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke.

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister.

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.”

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab.

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater.

After another moment you went back inside to apologize.

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled.

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives.

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water.

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response.

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed.

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm.

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control.

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions.

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly.

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on.

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend.

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck.

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?”

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it.

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice.

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable.

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.”

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug.

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #Sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #Holmes Sister #enola holmes

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