#thomas shelby x daughter reader

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Update Sept 19th

Closing Walls & Ticking Clocks

Requests or not, I'll definitely be adding to this series when inspiration hits! Probably my favorite request ever! Any requests for this send them my way!

Reader gets adopted after having a heated argument with a Nun. Tommy and Lizzie work hard to fix things between themselves in hopes of making her feel welcome.

Original Post - Tommy and Lizzie go to pick a baby at an orphanage only to come home with a mouthy teenager they found scrapping with a Nun.

Trip to the fair! - Follow-up piece where the reader bites off more than she can chew with a family trip to a fair.

Emotional - The family navigates some high emotions.

Snow - Unexpected weather and visitors

Heart Break of the Century - The Reader comes to terms with her PTSD, and the family continues to wait for the enemy to close in.

Blood Bath - Things come to a close with the Italians.

Would You Have Said Yes? - Noah says goodbye to Arrow House but just starts his journey doing business with Tommy. - Comming Soon

[look-at-the-soul]

My refuge

Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)

Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt Thank you for sharing this incredible idea around, I decided to give it a try, but I highly encourage any other writer who wants to join in because the way I approach it. Might be completely different…

I think this idea was the perfect match to celebrate K @runnning-outof-time 3K followers celebration! 🌹🌷💐🌺🌼Congratulations dear K, I adored your Tales from the Garden theme and had this visual idea of the garden…

“Daddy? I brought some tea.”

Tommy looked towards the door, where you were standing poking only your head inside his office, his heart still skipped a beat every time he heard you call him that.

“You can come in sweetheart.” He stamped his cigarette in the ashtray.

Michael sighed loudly as you interrupted their conversation, his annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.

“Frances helped me bake cookies, I hope you like it.” Y/N smile made Tommy smile as well, how could he reject you something? If his only daughter wanted him to eat a cookie, he���d eat a fucking cookie.

“Thank you love.”

Michael scoffed again, watching the interaction.

“Will you be busy for the rest of the afternoon?” You asked sweetly as your father took another sip of his tea.

“Why?”

“Because you promised we’d go riding.”

Tommy’s expression softened.

He stood up immediately, looking in Michael’s direction. “We’ll see this tomorrow.”

“What? No, Tommy I need y-”

“Michael.” Tommy warned giving his cousin a death stare, he wouldn’t repeat himself.

Turning his back at him, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket, and started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.

Michael looked annoyed at you and then at Tommy, he felt a strong dislike for the long lost daughter that suddenly appeared, making his cousin a soft, ridiculous, old man.

Michael grabbed the papers from Tommy’s desk and stormed out of the office without a word.

“He’s always angry.” You stated with a giggle, making your father chuckle.

“Let’s go my darling.” He took the remaining of his tea in one big gulp and then the cookies you baked to eat on the walk to the stables.

It was impossible to not feel calmer around you, Tommy noticed. Realizing how full of life he felt, how much he wanted to protect you.

On their way to the stables, you stopped to smell one of the bushes with pink roses. Your Dad, who was usually in a hurry, stopped on his tracks to take in the moment, wishing he could be more like you. But deep down he knew he wasn’t made to enjoy simple moments like those.

“I love your garden, I could spend all day sitting here surrounded by this beauty.”

Tommy felt constantly in awe by the things that made you smile, his mind trying to storage every moment, every word, trying to make up for the time he lost.

He stayed quiet as the two of you were riding, thinking of how much you and the woman he once loved looked alike.

“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with Michael?” You asked worried. “Sorry, I thought you were free.”

“What? No, none of that, you’re my priority from now on.”

“Then why are you so quiet?”

Tommy was forced to look up at you, fighting against the lump in his throat. “You look exactly like your mother.”

Without even knowing, you had started a revolution within him, made him go back in time when he was young and carefree.

“How did you and Mum meet?” The question had been on your mind for a while, you looked in his direction with curiosity, not understanding the reason why everyone looked at your father with fear in their eyes, he was the sweetest man on earth.

Tommy took his time to think of how to elaborate a proper answer.

“I saw her at an Appleby fair, she was dancing with other girls… she was like a magnet, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” For an instant, he was back in time into that very moment.

“What happened then?” Your face lit up, moved to have this little piece of information, for years, you only knew your mum’s side of the story, now, it was time to get both.

“She asked me out to dance with her, then it started to rain heavily and the fair was canceled, we went to my caravan and I’ve never been happier,” Tommy stopped and winked at his daughter, “until you stood in my front door.”

“She always talked about you, until her very last breath.”

“I wish I could prevent her parents taking you both away from me… but when I went to France and sent her letter with no answer, eventually, I stopped writing.” A heavy sigh abandoned his body as he stopped by a tree.

In more ways than he thought, talking about your mother helped him heal a part of his heart that had been broken for a little over two decades.

You came down from the horse and saw how your father secured both next to a tree.

A tender hand came to rest to the side of your face. “I’m just so glad you found me.”

There was a bittersweet look in his eyes, you noticed.

“I made quite an entrance, fighting off the maid, telling her, no I demanded a word with you.”

Small lines appeared around his eyes. “Like the good Shelby that you’re.”

“You never doubted for a second?”

But your Dad was already shaking his head. “No way, I knew it was you in that very moment.” He admitted, in his mind images of that day playing in his mind.

He was running late that morning and as commotion was happening downstairs, he rushed with a gun ready. Even from afar, as he took in your features, he knew it was you.

“But I confirmed it when I saw the broken Black Madonna around your neck.”

You looked at him confused.

“Back then I didn’t own anything,” he explained bending one knee, “so one day I found this broken Madonna relic, it was missing the hook to attach it to the chain, so the owner of the stand gave it to me for free, I tried to fix it and gave it to your mum for one of her birthdays.”

“That’s beautiful.” You touched it, feeling your heart beat under your hand.

Saving these memories in the deepest part of your soul.

You talked for hours, Tommy had never felt more free to speak his mind, his fears , his dreams, he realized his daughter understood him at a level nobody else did. You were his blood, and the exact same image of your mother.

***

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” Tommy walked into his office not realizing the door didn’t close completely.

“Finally after canceling this bloody meeting so many times.” Michael sighed as Tommy entered the office.

“I like your enthusiasm Michael, hopefully you will still carry that around by the end, ey?”

Leaning back, Michael tilted his head, he was clearly annoyed with the delay.

“Hopefully someone won’t interrupt us this time around over a fucking cup of tea or to go and pick up wild flowers to make a crown.”

The cigarette Tommy was about to light didn’t reach his lips, as he stopped midway.

“What didya say?” Tommy squinted his eyes.

“I said I’m fucking tired of your daughter interrupting us every single time-”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N Shelby.” Tommy dragged his words slowly, leaning his palms on his desk staring deeply into his cousin’s eyes.

“I don’t know you anymore, since when you push everything to the side Tommy? This business demands your full attention an-”

“Since she showed up in my doorstep!” Tommy slammed the desk with his hand, his voice raising. “After being away from me for twenty years, it really shouldn’t be a surprise she has become my priority now.”

“Michael.” Polly tried to warn him.

But Tommy raised his hand, to let him speak.

“I just can’t stand how you immediately turn into a fucking puppy as soon as she walks into any room, her little happy bubble is fucking annoying, this is a serious business and we don’t need a child with a bouncy bow interrupting everyone fucking meeting.”

Tommy remained quiet for a few seconds, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Are you done, Michael?”

“I mean if you want to take some time apart from the company to spend time to work on your family bond.”

As you took the last step of the staircase, you noticed the voices coming from your father’s office, it was probably your family as you noticed Polly’s voice.

Walking closer to join them and before you could reach the knob, you heard something that stopped you on your tracks.

John couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing.

“You definitely look like a fucking puppy, you can’t deny it… as soon as you see Y/N you turn into a fucking marionette, she does whatever she wants with you.”

“She turned you into a softy, brother.” The voice of your uncle Arthur pointed.

“Sometimes I wonder what the hell is she doing in a place like this.” Michael stated in a serious tone. “She doesn’t match the Shelby energy. What if someone comes at her? Does she even know how to use a fucking gun?”

Your heart sank to the floor, listening to what they thought of you.

Then it was your aunt Ada’s voice what you heard next. “She’s just a happy girl.”

“Ada knew how to use one at her age.” Polly admitted, you saw her over the slightly open door looking into her purse.

“Little Finn knew how to shoot before he was eight.” Arthur informed them.

“She’s a weakness, Tommy,” Michael insisted, “her happy bubble will lead us all into trouble someday.”

And for the first time, you felt anger building inside your body.

“Even Charlie seems to be more keen to be part of the business.”

With an unknown courage, you pushed the heavy door and stared at each of them. Shock reflected on their faces.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I’m sorry for being in my little, weak bubble, but you’re probably right… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t be a fucking Shelby.”

You didn’t waste another second to listen their answer, you turned your back at them and stormed out of the office, rushing towards the doors.

“Y/N wait!”

“Shit, how long has she been listening behind the door?” Ada asked.

“Did she really curse?” John asked shocked.

“I hope you’re fucking happy now, look at what you caused.” Tommy spat at Michael, leaving his family to go after his daughter.

But he wasn’t fast enough to go after you, when he reached the fountain, your small figure had already disappeared from his eyesight.

Looking down, he found the ribbon you always wore around your hair on the floor, about to fly away with the wind. Crounching down, he took it between his fingers, kicking himself internally at the thought of you feeling hurt.

“Get me the horse!” He barked, realizing how he wouldn’t be able to reach you by car.

You felt the way your heart was beating, uncontrollably while the tears blurred your vision. Realizing how silly you felt by thinking that you had found your place.

Being a Shelby by name wasn’t enough for them, no, you had to cut people’s eyes and be ruthless and clearly, you weren’t like that.

And you’d never be.

Your legs were burning from running, after moving aimlessly you sank down, finally letting out a sob from the deepest part of your soul.

You felt broken inside, sad because no matter what, you would never be a part of their world, you didn’t understand the family business, didn’t feel familiar with weapons, you were weak according to them.

Perhaps Michael was right after all.

Back at the house Polly scolded her son for the words he said, should mind his own business and stay away from you.

“You have to change that bloody attitude, Y/N is one sweet little child, she lost her mother.”

“She’s not a child and Charlie lost his as well and he doesn’t go trying to get Tommy’s attention all the fucking time.”

“It’s a different dynamic Michael, you can’t expect them to behave the same.” Ada interrupted him.

“Y/N and Tommy have a special bond.” Polly admitted sipping on her tea. “You can see it in his eyes… Y/N’s mother was the love of his life.”

“I don’t remember her much.” Ada expressed pouring herself some whiskey.

“I didn’t even know he had a secret relationship with her.” Arthur sighed.

“They were young and in love.” Polly explained, she had covered her nephew a couple of times from his father for not being around, lied saying she asked him to run some errands. “She was a good girl, but I never saw her again. Guess her parents moved out angry when they realized she was pregnant.”

“I can’t find her.” Tommy announced with his breath caught up in his throat and a panic look in his eyes. “Arthur, John come with me. Ada take the car around,” he clicked his fingers. “Want every single maid looking for Y/N.”

Then, he threw his cousin a death stare. “If anything happens to me daughter… you’re a death man.”

Tommy couldn’t conceive the idea of you being out on your own at night, he needed to protect you.

In his heart he made a promise to your mother the day you showed up in his house with the letter she wrote him, explaining everything; how her parents sent her away to live with an aunt in the mountains when they found out she was pregnant, they let her keep you but under the condition of being raised as a sister and not daughter.

And he was failing.

Defeated, he rode back home, trying think a plan to find you. Where would you go?

He felt desperate and frustrated, about to explode from the worry, after returning to the property finally he stopped to let someone take his horse to drink some water after spending hours looking out for you. Taking his watch from the pocket in his vest he noticed it was close to sunset now and it would get cold.

If only he could tell you how much you meant to him.

They looked for you at the stables and around Arrow House, but you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy started to feel like a lion inside a fucking cage, he needed to calm down to think where would you go, looking to his right, his eyes fixed on a bush and that gave him the hint to go and look at the garden.

Feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Tommy was determined to find you so he entered the maze. He followed the herbaceous border and took a right to find the fountain, walking past the yew buttresses. Wiping the sweat from his chin, he noticed a silhouette sitting by the steps of the gazebo.

And he couldn’t feel more joy in his chest, recognizing immediately it was you.

“Y/N.” He whispered out of breath.

You were pale and didn’t answer him.

Once more, he called your name, finally getting close enough to touch you. “Wake up baby girl.”

“Daddy?” You blinked away a few times, taking in your surroundings.

“You’re so cold.” He took his coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders.

The previous events slowly coming back into your memory. You probably fell asleep after crying endlessly.

“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to the Shelby name.”

“Oh my darling you could never disappoint me.” He rocked your body slightly, trying to warm you up with his hands. “You have more heart than anyone in that house.”

“I dreamed of Mum… she gave me a hug and a kiss and said it would all be alright, because I’ve you.”

Tommy wasn’t able to answer as the words got caught up in his throat, so he did something he rarely did.

His arms wrapped around your back and he pushed you in a tight hug.

One that was repairing him from the inside out. One that was repairing his broken heart.

“I know my girl, cause she will always be with us.” He kissed your hair and looked up in the starry night thinking of your mother and how much he had loved her. “Let’s get you home.”

From afar, Polly witnessed the interaction knowing nothing in this world would ever tear you and Tommy apart.

“But they don’t think I belong here.”

“You belong here way more than any of them, this is your house and this is your family and they’ll have to learn to accept the fact that you’re the light of my eyes.”

And your eyes lit up by your fathers words, tears of happiness making your vision go blurry.

“I ordered the gardener to create this for you, it’s not finished yet though… I wanted you to feel in this place at home.”

Slowly, you broke away the embrace to look at your father, with a tender touch, he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.

“This is for you.” He encouraged with a smile. “It was a surprise I was saving for later.”

Taking in your surroundings, you couldn’t believe the beautiful oasis before your eyes. You haven’t noticed before.

“Daddy!” Your hands flew to your mouth. “That’s white daffodils.”

Tommy chuckled. “Oh don’t expect me to know that.”

“These are peonies!” You were delighted. “And irises.”

Tommy saw you moving around the garden, enjoying the peace you being happy in this place brought him.

Taking you by the shoulders, he made you turn around to face the gazebo.

“I particularly love that… imagined you sitting there for hours.”

You were lost in the colors and smell, but soon you turned around to look at your father.

“Thank you for giving me this.” Your arms found their way around his body, time stood still.

“I was hoping this would be your refuge.” Tommy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

“Can we join the hug?” Ada interrupted, making you both turn around.

“I’m sorry about what Michael said,” your aunt Pol apologized, “I do enjoy your cheerful energy.”

“It’s a balm to this fucking family madness.” Ada explained.

They each linked their arms around you tenderly.

“You’re a sweet child and I love you.” Arthur blushed but joined the hug as well, behind him, uncle John looked at you.

“When you came into our lives, I knew it was you the one who could make him line up.” John winked at you.

“Come on you two, don’t stay back there.” Ada shouted at Finn and Charlie, who were standing awkwardly a few steps away.

“You’re the sweetest young girl, we love you just like that, Y/N it doesn’t matter what anyone tells you, don’t let this cruel world change you an ounce.” Polly said caressing your face.

And you believed her, them.

She then looked at her nephew.

“You did a wonderful job with this place, Tommy.”

He didn’t need something like this though, since he felt like having you close, was his own kind of refuge. His safe haven.

***

Master list

A/N: Oops this got a bit long 🤭 but there were so many things I needed to add, I hope you enjoyed it!

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

[themultifandomgal]

Hey I got a request for Tommy Shelby

So basically Tommy is a single dad to a girl who is 2 so basically Tommy took you to Arthur for the day and all you was doing was crying in Arthur arms and nothing was stopping you crying when you only stop crying when tommy come back and when you got home all you want to do was be hold by Tommy and would cry when you got put down then at bed time all you did was cry when Tommy put you down so Tommy let you sleep with Him hope that make sense

Tommy Shelby- Clingy Daughter

12th March 1924. A day Thomas Shelby will never forget. There was a knock at the door, when Tommy opened it up there on the door step bundled up in a basket was a tiny baby, fast asleep. There was a little note stating that Tommy is the father and that the mother can't support a baby and that she needs a name.

2 years later and Tommys baby is now a toddler and super clingy, which doesn't help when Tommy needs to head off to London for the day. That's why Arthur offered to have YN for the day, what could go wrong right? Arthur knew how to look after a child, he helped take care of his siblings after all and YN knows who Arthur is.

"Ok YN uncle Arthur will look after you, I'll be back later for bed time ok?"

"No daddy" YN cries as her father places her in her uncles arms "daddy home"

"Later. I love you" Tommy gives YN a kiss on her head "she'll be fine once I've gone" tommy directs this towards his brother before leaving for the car

"Daddy!" YN cries even louder as she watched her dad get into the car and drive off. She tries to wiggle out of her uncles arms. Arthur shuts the front door and places the 2 year old on the floor who just stands crying at the front door

"Come on little one. Why don't we go get some breakfast?"

"I want daddy"

"I know YN. Daddy will be back later"

"No now!" YN stops her foot crying. Arthur just knows today is going to be a long day.

Arthur tries all day to stop her crying, giving her cuddles, food, playing with toys but the only time he got a break from the tears is when she cried herself to sleep, but the moment she wakes up the tears start all over again. Finally Tommy arrives at 6pm. A disheveled Arthur answers the door with a screaming 2 year old

"Shhh hey what's wrong?" Tommy says taking the 2 year old into his arms who immediately settled down with just the sound of sniffles coming from the toddler

"Been crying all day. Tried to give her food but she wouldn't eat and threw up from crying so much"

"Sorry Arthur, I didn't think she'd be this bad"

"It's alright brother, one of those things" Arthur shrugs

"Well I best get this one home and something in her. Next time I need to go to London I'll take her with me"

"No it's fine. Just needs to get used to you not being there. Her mother abandoned her, she doesn't have a mother. It's just you and her. I'll see you tomorrow"

"Alright. YN say by the uncle Arthur"

"Bye" she sniffs into her fathers neck with a little wave behind her.

"YN I need to put you down to make you food"

"No daddy" YN shakes her head sobbing once again "stay here"

"I'm not going anywhere"

"Mr Shelby would you like me to make something for her?" Mary asks

"If you could"

"And what would the little one like hmm?"

"YN what would you like Mary to make you?"

"Biscuits?"

"You can't have biscuits for tea. How about bread and soup?" Mary suggests

"Ok. Then biscuits?"

"Yes then a biscuit" Tommy says hugging the little girl closer to him. She's always been clingy but never this bad.

While Mary gets on with making YN some soup Tommy takes his daughter into the living room and sits her on his knee while he reads her a story.

Bath times and bed time has never been so difficult

"YN it's bed time"

"No I stay with you daddy"

"YN I'm here I'm not going anywhere but you need to go to bed" Tommy places YN in her bed once again and starts to walk out of her room

"Daddy!" she screams getting out of bed for the umpteenth time

"YN, daddy's tired and wants to go to bed"

"Daddy's bed" Tommy is frustrated and gives in to his daughter, picking her up he takes her into his room with him. Tommy places her in his bed before getting changed himself, when he returns the 2 year old is fast asleep. 1 night won't hurt he thinks to himself. Seeing his daughter so upset today broke his heart, he never wants to see her like that again. He will always protect his daughter even if that means she sleeping in his bed just because she's upset.

[zodiyack]

Closed Doors

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x (nonship)daughter!Reader, Shelby family x (nonship)Shelby!Reader, Best friend character x fem!reader lol

Warnings: slight angst, fear of homophobia?, fluff, mention of drinking

Words: 414

Request: Hi! I was wondering could you do a pesky blinders fic where the reader is Tommy’s daughter and is gay but too afraid to come out until he finds her making out with her best friend one day (much like your Tommy’s son fic but with a lady?)

Note: oh god i haven't been able to write for a while, and im posting this on mobile (also meaning it'll take a bit to put it on my master list) regardless i hope it's okay. I also forgot who all is on the taglist now, this is just the taglist from when i saved this as a draft. Hope you enjoy!

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @jenepleurepasbaby, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @i-love-superhero, @marquelapage, @peakyxtommy, @stydia-4-ever, @babylooneytoonz, @livlaughquinn​, @bubsonnobx​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Tommy walked along the street, pointing out random boys and joking with his brothers. "Wonder what kind of lad Y/N will end up with..." Not that he'd accept just anyone in his daughter's life.

Arthur snorted, "any guy out here would have to go through me. John and you too, no doubt."

John and Thomas nodded with a hearty laugh. "They'd have to fight that friend of hers too, she never leaves her side."

The men continued to bicker and chortle on their walk to the house.

"Hello Mr. Shelby!" Sonia chimed. Sonia was always welcomed, Y/N's best friend. She never had to ask, simply walk through the front door. He greeted her back as she sped up the stairs to Y/N's room, closing the door behind her.

After a few hours, and after the rest of the company went out, Thomas decided he wanted to go to Garrison. As he was the only one home, aside from the two girls, he made his way up the stairs to notify them of his absence.

The courtesy of knocking escaped him as he pushed her door open, the payment for such action taking a gasp from his parted lips. Before him was the sight of his daughter and her best friend, lips upon each other's, quickly separating at the sound of the door.

"Dad-" Y/N's eyes welled with tears, crushing Tommy's heart, and seemingly Sonia's as she looked to her friend with concern.

"Mr. Shelby, I promise-"

"Don't." He looked down and leaned against the door frame. "Why do you feel the need to hide away? Why couldn't you tell me?"

"I'm sorry..." She sobbed quietly.

"Don't be. It's who you are, what is there to be sorry about?"

Sonia perked up, "you're not mad?"

Thomas let out a genuine chuckle. "Why would I be?"

"My parents...they weren't too fond of my attraction to Y/N. We feared that you'd feel the same." He felt empathy for the shaking girl, her gaze averted in shame.

"I take pity that your parents are ignorant. You cannot control who you love. In this case, it's my daughter. My only asks, are that you treat her well..."

The girls looked hopeful, staring at him anticipating his continuation. "And?"

"And that you keep the door open when you're in her room. I trust that you can respect these requests. Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go to the Garrison and have a drink."

-

Bonus:

"do you think he's drinking because of us?" Sonia asked fearfully.

Y/N chucked, "no, he just likes to drink."

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Ooo is anyone interested in writing this request??? Tommy Shelby x long lost daughter where Tommy finds her much like Polly found Michael. Y/n is in her early 20s and she is very sweet, soft, and pretty much dances to the beat of her own drum, pretty much skipping in a flower field and she’s very bubbly (very much the opposite of the rest of her family. Her and Tommy become inseparable and with each other all the time (Tommy is sooo overprotective and loves her so much, and is very soft around her, never raising his voice even the slightest). The whole family (John, Finn, Ada, Polly, and Arthur) absolutely LOVES her and are all super protective of her and gentle with her, except Michael… Maybe he sees her bubbly, soft, and gentle personality as weakness and doesn’t think she belongs in the family’s and doesn’t live up to the “Shelby name”. Maybe Y/n walks in on a meeting that she was excluded from, and hears the family arguing with Michael over this, and Y/n runs off crying, thinking her family doesn’t want her anymore🥺 But they all go and comfort her and prove her wrong🥺

[whoreforbuckybarnes]

He so… took a lil longer then a week off…

[strayrockette]

A Daughter’s Letter

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I was last active...But I think I'm back?

Huge thank you and appreciation to @runnning-outof-time for never giving up on me even when I was radio silent.

here's a breadcome of a story I baked out while basking in the fall-like weather I've been experiencing. Something about the crisp wind and the warm sun makes me want to write sad and angsty stories.

Let me know what you all think. like, reblog, and comment. Give me all the goodies. Did I break your heart, just a little? Did you tear up?

Dearest Father,

I have daydreamed countless times of what I wanted to say. Unfortunately or fortunately for you, there are far too many words, phrases, paragraphs, essays, and monologues for me to fit onto this letter.

I suppose I should start off first by saying, you failed me. And though I wish it weren’t true…the truth of it sitting heavily in my heart hurts too much for me to deny. Your memory haunts me. It leaves a bad taste at the back of my mouth, like acid. Perhaps this is a harsh judgment from a scorned daughter. You have left me, abandoned me to the world. To grow alone. To learn alone. You’ve given me nothing but pain and insecurities. Your legacy is not one of generational wealth or love. But of heartache and wonder.

I wonder, are you even alive? Do you remember me? Know that I exist? Do you think I’m dead? Alive? Living? Happy?…

Words filled her mouth, eagerly awaiting the freedom of relief of being heard. Each one was biting and vicious like a madman with a knife. Aimlessly swiping into the air all in vain and with all the hope it would pierce through flesh, if only to make it clear the kind of pain that held her at choking point every minute of the day. Her pain swallowed itself. Receding back into its slumbering cage, where it would once again wait for the moment it could be free.

For now, she would deal with another kind of pain. Equally as excruciating but not as invisible. The best kind of pain, she thought bitterly.

Her forearm ached violently as she poured alcohol onto the wound. She should have known better than to approach a panicked soldier. A wounded one at that. His leg had been shredded to bits and the blood loss had him delirous. Adrenalin was the only thing that had kept him awake and panicked as he was. Y/N gave a quick glance at the white sheet thrown over the cot to her left and fought the urge to burst into tears. Nothing, I could've done. Not my fault. Her mind repeated this mantra. She didn't believe it but maybe one day it would stick.

She carefully threaded her skin back together with the little supplies she had on her person. Medical supplies were dwindling and guilt wrapped around her stomach for using it on herself.

"More incoming!" A voice shouted in the distance. Her heart sunk ever so deeply as she inhaled a breath and steeled herself. Forgetting her measly work on herself, she tied a ripped sheet over her arm, already knowing it would loosen, but knowing that there were others who needed her more.

Her feet pounded into the muddy ground, the grey skies and the panicked cries mixed with the scent of ash and blood branded her.

The number of men piling up into the church and tents was ever-growing. Always growing.

She hated to ask, but did out of necessity "How many and how bad is it?"

"4 unconscious, 3 missing limbs, 4 with burn marks" A girl, no taller and older than her stated. Face caked in mud and blood. Y/N chose to ignore the tears in the girl's eyes, Marge, she corrected herself. A new volunteer who was just as clueless and naive as every other girl who came in her place.

"4 for 4 in the church, the 3 with go to tents 5 and 6" Y/N ordered. She went to help the others relocate the soldiers to their respective spots. "Your hurt" Marge could barely take her eyes off the sight of her slit forearm. the wound ugly and jarring and barely pierced together. A tiny string hopelessly holding the reddened skin together.

"I'll be fine, dove. We've got work to do" Y/N nodded to the stretchers making their way past them.

"You're no help if you can barely lift anything with your left arm" Catherine, an older and more experienced nurse stated exasperatedly. "Get out of my sight, before you hurt someone and yourself."

She shooed her away with a comment about how soldiers needed us nurses to be in tip-top shape in order to be of use. It quelled the guilt inside her for only a moment. Y/N sighed and made her way to the quietest part of the church/make-shift hospital. Away from the screaming and cries. The only place in this hell hole where soldiers didn't leave, lifeless.

Her footsteps echoed as she made her way to a chair near the back of the room. A soldier lay sleeping. He'd come in a day ago with a broken leg and fractured hands. His fingernails were bloody and almost falling off. He'd climbed out from the ground they said. Or tried too. The crew of men who'd dug him and his fellow comrades out were amazed at their survival. To survive being buried under dirt while a war raged on above was more than a miracle. A God-given blessing. Or so they said. Y/N believed it to be pure luck and an insane amount of will.

She nestled herself into her spot, brought a tray closer to her, and laid her arm a top of the table stand next to her. She fished a needle from her pocket careful not to prick her fingers and began the work of stitching herself together. She worked quietly, teeth pulling at her lips, tongue choking back the whimpers.

"You're hurting yourself," A deep voice timbered.

Her brows furrowed eyes never leaving the steady needle making its rounds into her skin, "If you know a way to make this hurt less, I'm all ears, soldier."

"Ay," He rumbled, "Just let it out."

She scoffed and almost laughed. Let it out? She closed the last stitch and broke her gaze, ready to tell him off for offering such helpful advice but stopped.

His face was littered with cuts, and it was the first time she'd ever managed to really get a good look. His eyes were so blue she wondered if he'd taken the beauty of the skies and held it for himself. "You've done well, keeping us lads in one piece," his mouth pursed and he sighed, "We won't think less of yah for crying in pain."

"Right, lads?" He called out, so sure of himself. A chorus of agreement rang throughout the room.

For the first time since offering her services to the war, she cried.

Dearest Father,

I met a man. And he's given me far more valuable advice than you ever did..... I hate you.

Sincerely,

Your aching daughter.

----

Taglist:

@mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @lovecleastrange @watercolorskyy @rockerchick05 @lyarr24

Can't remember who else wanted to be a part of the tag list. If you'd like to be on it please let me know!

[alimosblog]

Hey, guys!

My friend wants to try to write a fic on Peaky Blinders. Could you write a few requests in the comments?

Mostly with Thomas Shelby!

Thank you in advance💋

[simplyundeniable98]

look at me t.s.

Pairing | Thomas Shelby x Female reader

Summary | When Mrs. Shelby requests Tommy in the room with her for the birth of their first daughter everyone is shocked. Men aren't supposed to be in the room with their wives as they give birth, it's just not how it is supposed to be... well all men aren't Thomas Shelby.

Warnings | Mentions of childbirth, pain obviously she's literally giving birth, maybe ooc Tommy? idk. Reader is a little mean to her doctors but she's in pain cut her some slack. MDNI because I said so. Foul language.

Word Count | .06k

~This is loosely based off of the scene in Queen Charlotte when they won't let George into the room to see Charlotte. If you know what I'm talking about I love you~

All dialogue in italics is spoken in Romani.

"Mrs Shelby forgive me but husbands aren't usually in the room during the birth" The doctor spoke hesitantly as his eyes flicked nervously around the room.

Everyone seemed to speak hesitantly around her. I guess that was what you get when you become a Shelby. Everyone around you is constantly terrified to tell you no or disagree. It was like being royalty in a sort of fucked up way.

Polly Gray cut the doctor a look as she walked over to you and put a reassuring hand on your forehead.

"Polly please" you cried in pain "I need him here." Nothing from the old wive tales could compare to the pain you were feeling. You had been pushing for hours now with Polly at your side but nothing was working. Your daughter simply just would not budge. Polly had made the comment early on about her already showing traits from her father.

"I don't care what usually happens. If Tommy Shelby is not in this room in the next five minutes, I will personally end you." You spoke with a hiss pointing at the doctor.

You weren't usually this aggressive, but given the fact you were in pain and used to getting what you wanted all the time, the circumstances were different.

Polly sighed as she looked down at you and began to head out of the room.

"What's wrong, is she okay?" Tommy spoke immediately as Polly exited the doors of your room.

"She's requesting you Thomas" Polly spoke in Romani so as to not alert the other doctors of your request.

"She wants me in the room with her?" He spoke hesitantly as he looked towards the door.

Polly nodded and Tommy immediately started towards the door.

"I'm sorry Mr. Shelby but I cannot allow you to be in the room." The doctor outside of your door spoke as his eyes flicked down to the floor to avoid Tommy's sharp gaze.

"Tell me, doctor, do you like your job?" Tommy spoke with a raised brow as he waited for his response.

When he didn't reply Tommy bent down to reach his gaze "Hmm? I asked you a question doctor, do you like your job?"

"Yes. Yes I like my job" He murmured still avoiding the sharp blue eyes that were currently staring daggers at the man.

"Well if you intend on staying alive long enough to keep it, I suggest you move out of my way." Tommy stood up straight and tilted his head towards the door.

The doctor nodded and stepped aside, letting Tommy enter the room. "If I hear one more word from anyone about my presence in this room, I will have a peaky blinder on each and every one of your doorsteps first thing tomorrow morning" Tommy spoke before anyone could protest.

"Tommy" you gasped as you finally laid eyes on your husband. "I've been asking for you"

"I know, I know. But I'm here now eh? I'm here now." Tommy bent down to give your forehead a kiss as you winced.

"I cant do this Tommy" you cried "I want it to be over"

Tommy's heart broke at the sight of you. His wife. He wished he could just take all of your pain away and keep it for himself.

Tommy bent down to kneel at the side of your bed as he cradled your face in his hands.

"Look at me. Hey, Look at me, love." He spoke softly as you turned your head to gaze at him with teary eyes.

"You can do this. I know you can. You are the most headstrong women I know, and ill be damned if you give up now." You giggled at his lighthearted teasing and nodded.

"And you don't really have a choice love. This baby has got to come out in one way or another." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at your husband.

"Okay Mrs. Shelby its time to push" Your doctor spoke as Tommy placed a kiss on the hand he had ahold of and nodded at you.

"Let's meet our daughter Mrs. Shelby."

[idksmtms]

The Comeback (Tommy Shelby x reader, Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess)

Request 

A/N: I changed the request a little because the only person who comes back from the dead on Peaky Blinders is Alfie Solomons. He reserves the right. But I also felt like this could fit in so well with the end of S1/start of S2 story where Grace has gone and Tommy is on his own in Small Heath and she comes back out of the blue. 

Summary: After Grace left and he couldn’t follow, Tommy decides to get on with his life and agrees to marry the daughter of a local businessman who could help further the Peaky Blinders’ operation. When the line of his feelings begins to blur, Grace reappears. 

Word count: 6,862

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, some show spoilers, angst, era typical attitudes on men, women, and marriage, marriage of convenience, (seeming) one-sided love, (seemingly) unrequited love, smoking/reader + characters smoking cigs, cheating, divorce, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Peaky Blinders characters. I do not claim to own any of the Peaky Blinders characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

When Thomas Shelby agreed to the proposal your father had set forth, you were initially quite surprised. You had heard talk of an Irish barmaid at the Garrison, or maybe it was that one black-haired prostitute in Small Heath, you couldn’t quite remember, but you had heard that his heart had been intrigued if not settled upon a woman. 

Your father had mentioned a marriage between the two of you would be beneficial, which you took to mean that he would most certainly be proposing it, and had decided to do a little bit of snooping. Nothing major, you simply wanted to know a little more about the man you might be forced into marrying, and little whispers of his reputation reached you through the household staff. 

He was intimidating, never smiled, was always focused on business, and he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. With each word you felt a nail hammer into your coffin. But then it was also said he was loyal to his family, to his people, that he would do anything for them, and it made you feel a little better. It made him at least partially human, anyway. 

You didn’t know much, the name Peaky Blinders was thrown, speculation about him was always in the air, but you knew very little else. You had no idea what he looked like, what his voice sounded like, what he thought of Small Heath. What did he think of your father? Was a marriage to you a worthy consequence of business? Did he know what you looked like? Did he think you were pretty? 

So when your father had initially told you that he would be offering your hand to the notorious man, you had expected him to return with a furrowed brow and a gruff question as to why the hell the man wouldn’t want to secure a partnership in such a way. Instead, you found your father grinning in the living room, clapping his hands upon seeing you and telling you that the wedding date had been set for February 1st, 1921. 

You had taken everything in stride. You weren’t really in a position to complain about a marriage that would give you security and allow you to keep the lifestyle you had been accustomed to. Though you had once had girlish fantasies of marrying a man who loved you to the fullest, who got down on one knee and proposed in front of everyone because he couldn’t bare the thought of never calling you his wife, you had quickly abandoned them when the realities of the world were slowly revealed to you. 

You had seen friends get pregnant as young girls and thrown to the streets by disgraced families and left by men who couldn’t be bothered to care for them. You had seen women marry men they loved only to be beaten black and blue for the rest of their lives until they jumped into the river with their children to end their suffering. You had seen girls from well off families, who had fathers made rich off the war and mothers who spent their lives cajoling them, suddenly turned into prostitutes because the man they thought would marry them sullied their honour and left with nothing else to say. 

You were alright with this marriage, you only hoped that Tommy would treat you with respect, that he would never lay a hand on you in anger, and that if love did not blossom then you could at least be happy with each other regardless. It was simple, it was realistic. 

You met Thomas Shelby for the first time on the day of your wedding. He had sent you one letter before that time, brought to you in your father’s coat pocket after he announced that Mr. Shelby had accepted the proposal. His writing was clean if a little hurried, no random inkblots or crossed out words, and he addressed you as ‘Ms’. He expressed that you could do as you pleased for the wedding, he would show up on the day and say ‘I do’ and need not be involved any more than that. He told you about the new estate he had purchased, Arrow House, and how it would become your new place of residence after the wedding. He wished you well at the end, but signed only with his name. You had folded the letter again, pressed it back into the envelope, and then deposited it into your nightstand. 

On the day of the wedding, you were suddenly alight with the nerves that had not presented themselves at the time of his accepting your father’s proposal. Minutes before you were due to walk down the aisle you began to question the entire event, began to question if this was really the life you would choose for yourself and how difficult it would be for his men to track you down if you ran away right at that moment and hid yourself somewhere in Cornwall. Instead your father gripped your arm and threaded it through his and walked you through the doors of the church. 

When you saw him for the first time you were a little shocked that someone who was commonly described as a gangster looked so elegant. He wore a wool suit in navy blue with a matching bowtie and a little sprig of snowdrops in his breast pocket. They matched the flowers in your bouquet. He had the same haircut as his brothers, shaved on the sides and long on the top, and the blackness of his hair reminded you of coal. He was going a little grey on the sides, but you couldn’t tell how old he was and whether it made sense for grey hairs to already be appearing. He had very faint freckles all over his face and down his neck and a natural pout to his lips. On anyone else it would make them look endearing, on him it made him seem sullen and dangerous. 

Somehow you were unsurprised that his eyes were so blue. In the dim light of the church they were greyish, but piercing like the distant beam of a lighthouse on the blackest night. They fit him, you thought as you walked closer and closer. They were so open, yet they revealed nothing. They were the eyes of a dangerous person, of someone who didn’t smile often. They were rather terrifying. You wanted to know what he thought of you. 

Your father shook Tommy’s hand as he gave you over to him, smiling a proud smile as if he were marrying Tommy himself, and kissed you on the cheek quickly before finding his seat at the first pew. You glanced at his eyes once as he took your right hand, but then turned to look at the priest and kept your eyes there. 

You felt distant from yourself at the ceremony, like you were at the shop counter waiting for the grocer to hand you your items so you could pay and leave. You said ‘I do’ mechanically, pushed the ring over his finger like it had been rehearsed a hundred times, and let him press a soft, unfeeling, kiss to your lips. 

He kept your hand in his as you walked out of the church, and he helped you step up into his car. He waited until you had gathered your dress around you before closing the door and walking around, then waited for you to finish waving to your family before driving in the direction of Arrow House. You would see them all in a few hours for the celebration dinner at the estate, but it felt like such a final goodbye that a few tears slipped down your cheeks. 

He didn’t say anything as he drove, just casually rested an elbow on the door and kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. But you were impatient, and surprised to find that you had actually enjoyed the sound of his voice the few times he had used it in the church and wanted to hear it again. 

“Your brothers seem nice,” and you winced because how could those be the first words out of your mouth when you were alone with your husband for the first time. His lips twitched in amusement and you flushed with embarrassment. 

“Not one of my siblings could ever be described as ‘nice’.” You frowned but the way he said it wasn’t insulting, it was almost as if he was proud that they weren’t nice people and it made you turn to look at him for a long moment. 

“Hm, I’m not sure what that says about you, Mr. Shelby,” you hummed, pressing your lips together then releasing them then pressing them together again. 

“Must it say something about me?” He asked, one eyebrow raising as he glanced toward you. You smiled then, letting out a little laugh as you shook your head. 

“I suppose not,” you sighed, “I suppose not.” You turned to look at the road ahead and shrugged your shoulders. “I guess I’m just attempting to learn more about you Mr. Shelby, however roundabout my methods may seem.” His face looked a little calmer then, less severe, and you felt triumphant that you had somehow caused it. 

“Ask your questions, miss, and I will find a way to answer them,” he replied with a nod, but you smirked. 

“It’s Missus now, Mrs. Shelby,” and the way you said it made him huff out something you believed was a chuckle. Another success. 

“Ask your questions then, Mrs. Shelby.” 

“Why did you agree to this marriage?” He raised an eyebrow again, changing the hand he used on the steering wheel and turning a little in his seat to look at you. The road ahead was empty, but he still glanced back every few moments to ensure he was driving straight on it. 

“Your father’s business can process the money from mine and turn it into legitimate investments. It would have been stupid not to agree,” he said it simply, with slightly wide eyes and his head shaking a little, like it was an obvious answer. You hummed and nodded, but were left a little unsatisfied. The juvenile part of your brain hoped that he would say something about how he had seen a picture of you and felt in his heart of hearts that you were the one for him. Though now having met him you supposed he wouldn’t say something like that even to the true love of his life. 

“What do you think of me?” You asked. You had tried to sound confident but it came out small and apprehensive, as if you weren’t sure you actually wanted the answer to the question. “Be honest,” you added hastily, and he looked at you again. His eyes were so focused on your face that you turned away bashfully. 

“I believe,” he began slowly, thoughtfully, and paused to pull his cigarette case from his pocket. He pulled one out of it and rubbed it along his bottom lip once, then twice before settling it at the corner of his mouth. He began to reach down for the lighter in his outer pocket but you quickly slipped your hand into it and pulled it out. He looked at you with that raised eyebrow frown he seemed to enjoy using, but let you flick the flame into life and bring it to the tip of his cigarette. “You are someone intelligent enough to know that you have limited choices in the world,” he sucked another breath from the cigarette, “but strategic enough to accept only those that benefit you.” You smiled at that, a small conspiratorial smile that you aimed at your own lap. “That is why you allowed this engagement in the first place.” 

“You seem to think highly of me. How do you know I didn’t simply bend to my father’s will?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in return and looking at him as if you were daring him to answer. 

“You could be right,” he hummed, nodding in thought, “I may have completely misjudged you, but I don’t think so,” he shrugged and you just watched him as the car brought you both closer and closer to your new home. 

“Would you like to know what I think of you?” You asked, but regardless of his answer you would tell him anyway. 

“Go on then,” and he sounded a little exasperated but you ignored it. 

“I think you’ll be the death of me.” 

As the days, weeks, and months passed on your marriage, you and Tommy found an easy companionship with each other. You wouldn’t say the two of you ever found a routine, per se, you believed he would never not be all over the place running and expanding The Shelby Company Ltd. but the moments that the two of you did have together were enjoyable, pleasurable. 

The days he was on time for dinner, whether that be coming home on time or leaving his study, you would eat across from each other at the dining table and you would fill the silence with chatter. He didn’t often speak, but neither of you minded really, he was still a part of the conversation. He would huff out a laugh at anything humorous, offer a sarcastic comment or thoughtful observation when he felt it prudent, but otherwise sat there and took in all the details. 

Tommy found that he enjoyed listening to you, learning about your day or any little details about yourself you offered in your little speeches. Though he had never thought himself domestic, never imagined himself in a scenario such as this where he was sat eating a calm dinner with a wife, he found he secretly enjoyed it. 

He began looking forward to the evening time where he would breeze through the doors of the dining room to find you about to have a seat in your usual place at the far end of the table. His place was always set, and he wondered if you looked at it and imagined him on the days he wasn’t there. You would smile when you noticed him, grazing your eyes over him as if looking for something, then sit down carefully in your seat as Frances began bringing the dishes out from the kitchen. 

“How was your day?” You always asked it first, always looked at him with big open eyes as if you were genuinely interested and anything big or small he had to tell you would be appreciated. He would nod, pulling out his own chair and settling himself down quickly, offering you a distracted little smile. 

“Alright,” that was always the answer, whether it had actually been ‘alright’ you would never know, especially because you refused to question him further than that unless it had been a particularly boring day for you and poking and prodding at his stony facade would be your only fun activity. 

You always hummed and stayed quiet for a little while, smiling brightly at Frances and thanking her as she put down the last dish and began serving you both a first course of soup. You were all manners, waiting politely until both bowls had been filled and Frances had stepped away before taking a sip and humming in delight. Then you would dab the corners of your mouth and begin speaking without looking up from your bowl. 

“I went out for a ride today”, “I went to a little afternoon tea at Mavis Weatherby’s”, “My mother came for lunch”, “I’ve started reading a lovely little novel”, “I’m planning a little trip to London to see a milner’s and a tailor”. 

You always had something to tell him, no matter how mundane, and he always listened despite his stoic and almost disinterested face. He found your voice enjoyable, if nothing else. The hum of it in his ear was pleasant, and sometimes if he lost himself in his thoughts, it would be like a soft little kiss against the shell of his ear as he traversed the paths of his mind that needed tending to. 

You would tell him in extreme detail about whatever it is you did that was taking your fancy for the day, describing and explaining wherever you felt it prudent. You always looked him in the eyes when you spoke to him, and if you noticed him start to drift away, a mischievous little smirk would cross your mouth and you would suddenly go silent, waiting for him to refocus before continuing. Neither of you would say anything about the minor interruption, but he would often feel his own lips twitch in response to your little smile. 

Once dinner was finished, the two of you would walk out together and pause in the hallway. You would stand as close to him as you could get without actually touching him, the cloth of your dress brushing against him as you looked into his eyes with a warm little smile. At this point you would tell him that you were going to read until it was time for bed, either in the library or in the sitting room, and every single evening you offered him an invitation. “Would you like to join me?”, “You could join me if you wished”. And every single evening, he refused you politely, “it’s alright, sweetheart, you go ahead.”, “I’ve got some work to finish, you enjoy yourself, darling”. He knew you knew he would refuse the invitation, but the fact that you offered every single evening, without fail, made something warm bloom in his chest. Something that now seemed to slip over his eyes whenever he looked at you and made him see the world in a way he hadn’t seen before. 

You would nod simply, a smile on your face that said “I knew this was going to happen but I enjoy our little routine” before reaching up and pressing your lips to his cheek in a soft kiss that always made him stiffen up a little then unwind a little more than he had before. 

You both shared a bedroom, something he hadn’t expected but you had insisted upon. You took the left side of the bed, saying you preferred to sleep away from the door, and he obliged because he had never cared what side he was on anyway. You seemed to enjoy the view you got from the windows on that side of the bed and far be it from him to deny you something that gave you joy. 

Your respective nightstands were so clearly depictions of yourselves. Yours was covered in books and jewellery and little trinkets of yours and creams you forgot to put on before going to bed but kept there anyway. His often only had a single book on it, his cigarette case, his lighter, and an ashtray. Sometimes in the evenings, when he was lying in bed next to you, trying to read with tired eyes, you would lean over him, crushing the book to his chest and pressing the side of your torso to his face, as you reached for his cigarette case and lighter. 

This little moment, this little instance, endeared you to him the most, somehow. The little huff you would let out just before, placing your book on your cluttered nightstand before offering a quick ‘sorry’ and then just draping yourself over him with a disregard for his focus to haphazardly grab at his nightstand until the cigarette case and lighter were in your hand before falling back into your place. The reach over always managed to press your breasts to his face, and he supposed he would never complain about that regardless of who the woman was doing it. 

You always took out a cigarette for him first with a sheepish smile, as if knowing you had disturbed the fragile thread of attention he had been trying to stitch to the book, and brought it to his mouth, rubbing it across his lip before settling it into the corner of his mouth like he always did. You would light his cigarette as he smirked a little, turning away to blow the smoke so you couldn’t see the expression as you shook one out for yourself and lit it before handing both the case and the lighter back to Tommy so he could toss it onto his nightstand himself this time. 

You had an awful habit of forgetting your own cigarettes everywhere, and then stealing Tommy’s. The first time you had taken one of his, you had complained about the brand he smoked, said it was much too strong for you, but you kept stealing and smoking them regardless. He found himself refilling his case a lot more since you came into his life. Not only that, but he found himself filling half the case with the brand of cigarettes you liked so that you would have them whenever you misplaced your case or simply couldn’t be bothered to look for it. You had never mentioned it the first time he had done it, but he had seen your little smile when you opened his cigarette case for the first few weeks after and it had motivated him to continue his new little routine. 

Then, after you had placed the cigarette in your mouth and taken a gentle drag, you would look at him out of the corner of your eye with a little smile quirking at your lips despite your best efforts to try and hide it. He would smirk, the clearest smile he would ever give you, and with a little giggle you would take the cigarette from your mouth and stretch your arm out to hold it away from the two of you as you draped your body over his and pressed your lip to his. His mouth would already be parted slightly, his tongue leaping out to caress yours, and your giggles would muffle against his lips. He took the cigarette from your fingers and pressed it to his own before mashing the ends haphazardly into the ashtray on his sidetable and wrapping his arms around your torso. 

All you could say was that these evenings were long and… pleasurable. Subsequently, it came as no surprise that within three months of the wedding you were pregnant with your first child. 

You had mentioned to Tommy that you weren’t feeling your best for a few days when Polly decided to make a ‘surprise’ trip to Arrow House. Within one look at you she had smiled broadly and mischievously and congratulated you on your pregnancy. It had come as a shock, an undulating mix of fear and joy and elation churning in your chest and gut. 

When you had told Tommy, he had stood still for a few moments, gazing at your face as you smiled hesitantly. You had hoped he would be happy, and despite his status as your husband, you could never quite be sure of his reaction to anything. His face hadn’t changed at the news, but quick as a flash he was standing so close to you that you felt almost attacked. His hands gripped your face, almost squishing your mouth into a pucker, and he was kissing you like you were keeping air from him in the moments your mouths weren’t pressed together. Salty tears made the kiss briny and you almost sobbed against his lips but he didn’t let you go. 

Nine months later, and you were welcoming a beautiful little boy with Tommy’s eyes and your hair into the world. Eighteen months later, a little girl with your eyes and Tommy’s hair took her place in the nursery. Your little James and Margaret. 

In that time, slowly and carefully, you had somehow built the dream family you had once imagined for yourself. One evening in the sitting room, after the children had been put to sleep and you were curled up on one of the sofas with a book, you looked up to Tommy at his desk to the side of the room. He had taken to doing his work there in the evenings during your first pregnancy, and as if feeling your eyes on him, he had glanced up, a little smile at the corner of his lips. You simply smiled in return and brought your gaze back down to your book, but your heart was racing without your control and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from yelling ‘I love you!’ over and over again without a care. 

In the time Tommy had been married to you, everyone had noticed the change taking place in him, except him. Though no one other than Polly dared to say it to his face, they noticed the new threads of gentleness that appeared when you were near. They noticed how much easier his smiles came (despite the continuing rarity) and how he watched you without wavering when you took care of the children. 

Polly often teased him to shut his mouth lest he catch flies around you, and would whisper about him to you in front of him in a way that made his mouth set into an almost petulant frown (that only made the two of you giggle further). He wasn’t sure why Polly liked you so much when she had felt no fondness for Grace. If all her teasing was right, was he not just as distracted with you as he had been with ‘the Irish barmaid’? But she seemed to dote on you like she had done on Ada, and took time to come see you and the children every week. 

One evening, Tommy watched you from his place at the desk in the living room, and even the simple activity of laying his eyes on you made his chest feel a little calmer. He wasn’t quite sure when the tide had turned in his feelings, when he had so unforgivably lost control of his own heart, but here he was now, absentmindedly rubbing his cigarette against his lip, wondering if love might be real… 

Times of peace weren’t meant to last. The first thought that crossed your mind when you learnt the news. You stood frozen in front of Tommy’s desk, staring at the little card you had pulled out of the drawer while searching for his spare lighter. Your cigarette was already dangling from your lips, unknowing the turmoil it’s user was going through. 

You had only gone in search of the spare lighter. You knew Tommy kept one in there for you when he was out of the house and you couldn’t find your own. There were dozens of spares all around the house for you. He knew how absolutely lazy you could be when you wanted to and he left a lighter in every room to make sure he didn’t have to hear you moan and groan about getting up when you were already comfortable in your space. 

The children were busy with lessons in their playroom upstairs, and you had been doing some correspondence in the sitting room so you could be near the big radio. You had hummed along as you got up and moved to the desk, pulling open the first drawer, the one you had seen him pull the lighter out of countless times, and there, right at the centre, as if carefully placed lest the paper be ruined, was a card with the name ‘Grace Burgess’ written in pretty looping handwriting. The lighter sat right next to it. 

Everything seemed to tilt and for a moment you thought you would fall over. You picked up the card gently by the corner, depositing it onto the top of the desk before pulling out the lighter and hurriedly lighting your cigarette. If you didn’t have a drag of it within the next second you might collapse. 

You took at least three drags from the cigarette before you were ready to turn the card over and read whatever was written there. It was in the same loopy, feminine, handwriting in a bright blue ink that reminded you of Tommy’s eyes. You almost picked up the lighter again to burn the paper. 

It was short and simple, an invitation to meet at a hotel, dated about a week prior. You dropped it back onto the desk, watching the thick cardstock fall with a light thump, and closed your eyes. You took deep, heavy, breaths of the cigarette until your hands stopped shaking and your mind felt like it had settled again. You grabbed the lighter but left the card on top of Tommy’s desk, turned the volume of the radio as high as possible, and returned to your position on the sofa. Every time one cigarette finished, you lit another, but you didn’t move from your position on the sofa. 

At one point the children came tottering in and you haphazardly wiped at your eyes before smashing the cigarette into the ashtray and patting the spot on the sofa beside you so they could come in for a snuggle before dinner. You hadn’t even realised the sun had set long ago. You kissed them on the tops of their heads and tried not to cry into their hair. 

Frances came in to tell you that dinner could be served when the main door opened and Tommy came whirling in. The children scrambled off the sofa and ran down the hall to greet their father who was already reaching down, ready to pick them up, one in each arm. You weren’t sure you could face him yet, so you slinked through the side door and went straight for the dining room. 

Tommy went first in the direction of the sitting room, but as Frances came out of the door for the dining room to gather the children, she cleared her throat and informed him that Mrs. Shelby was already there. He nodded, turning around to get to you, realising how odd it felt that he had been in the house this long and you hadn’t come to greet him, hadn’t pecked him on the lips and beamed up at him as you usually did when you heard the door open. 

You were sitting in your usual seat but he could tell something was wrong. You were staring at the plate as if you had never seen one before, and your hands were tightly clasped in your lap. He could see how tense your forearms were, and after depositing the children in their seats, he went over to you and reached down to gently pry your hands apart. He watched your face for any sign, anything that would tell him why you were acting this way, but you just closed your eyes until he let you go and went to his seat. 

Could you perhaps be pregnant again? But that would be happy news, something to celebrate, not despair over. Was there something wrong with your father? A death in the family you had been phoned about during the day? He couldn’t tell. And he hated it. 

Dinner was an awkward affair. You spoke very little, and when you did speak it was only towards the children, asking them about their lessons and how they were enjoying their days thus far. You refused to look at him during the entirety of the meal, and anger and frustration were slowly beginning to rise inside of him. As soon as it was over, you were ushering the kids out and up the stairs so they could start readying for bed. You went with them, a clear attempt at avoiding Tommy’s company, and he stormed into his study, slamming the door behind him. 

You took as long as you could, kissing their little heads and pulling the sheets up to their chins before steeling yourself and heading downstairs. The door to his study opened just as you hopped off the last step but you continued into the sitting room. Tommy followed, and stood just inside the door with wary eyes. He watched you walk all the way over to his desk and pick up a piece of card sitting on the top. You held it up so he could see the sender but your face betrayed nothing. He had never seen you look so stoic. 

“Did you go?” Your voice was quiet, small, the kind of voice Margaret used when she had a nightmare and came knocking at your door. 

You had thought that despite the circumstances that began your marriage, the two of you had found love. You loved him, you were sure of that. But looking at the note, knowing who it had come from, you felt like the naive girl who had once wished for true love and hadn’t yet realised that wasn’t possible. 

Of course it was unrealistic for you to think he had grown to love you just because he was kind to you. Of course it was unrealistic to think he felt he needed to be faithful to you, he was a man after all. Of course it was unrealistic of you to think your beautiful family would last… 

You could feel tears press behind your eyes but you simply gulped again and again to push them away. Tommy’s face hadn’t changed, his usual stoic expression that you once found intriguing, then endearing, now only annoyed and enraged you. 

“Yes,” he answered, and he didn’t say anything else. You just stared at him, at the way he reached into his coat pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. At the way he opened his cigarette case and offered it in your direction before taking one. It meant walking over to him to take it. You stayed where you were and he slowly picked a cigarette out of it and rubbed it against his lip before lighting it and putting everything back where it usually resided in his coat pockets. You gulped again. The tears were getting more aggressive in their mission to escape your eyes.  

“Did you fuck her?” You whispered, hands shaking as they clenched on the edge of the desk. It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if he had even heard you. “Did you fuck her?” You asked it louder and then cringed. The word felt so crass coming out of your mouth, so wrong. 

“Yes.” And that was all that needed to be said, wasn’t it? What else really mattered? Because in that one word lay everything you had wanted to know in the first place. Did he feel the need to be faithful to you? No. Did he care about you and your little family? No. Did he love you? No… 

You stood there for a few minutes, fingertips pressed as hard as possible into the top of the desk. Your eyes were closed, hoping to trap the tears inside. You didn’t move, and Tommy watched you the entire time. 

Then, like a radio being switched on, you took a deep breath in and opened your eyes. You straightened up a little and slowly took your hands off of the desktop. You looked at Tommy and nodded. 

“Ok,” and then you walked past him and out of the room without a second glance. 

By the time Tommy came up to bed close to midnight, only the lamp on your vanity was lighting the room and you were under the covers, turned onto your side to face the windows and breathing slowly as if you were asleep. 

The next few months were different in a way that Tommy despised. You had pulled away from him but in such a subtle way that no one else would recognise that everything had changed between the two of you. 

You still accompanied the children to the front door when he came home, but you no longer kissed him there. You still asked him about his day and engaged the children in conversation over dinner, but you barely spoke of yourself anymore, no longer telling him the stories of your mundane activities or unnecessary details about little things of no consequence. You still read next to him in the evenings, but you no longer leaned over him to grab for his cigarettes. In fact, you no longer took cigarettes from him ever. You were careful about taking your case and lighter with you everywhere, and if you didn’t have it around you, then you went out of your way to leave the room and get it rather than ask him for one. The cigarettes he kept for you in his own case were now left unused. 

Everything became so much worse when Grace revealed that she was pregnant. She had been so happy to tell him despite her own marriage, and he could never be sad knowing that a child of his was coming into existence. He loved James and Margaret with all the soul he possessed, he could never be sad about a child. But the news caused a turmoil inside of him that he didn’t know how to handle, because now came the time to decide, to look into himself and question if everything he felt for you was love, and not only love, but a stronger one than the one he had with Grace? 

You didn’t give him the time to decide. When he told you about Grace’s pregnancy, you had walked out and refused to speak to him. You had taken your things into Margaret’s room and slept curled up on the edge of her bed. 

When Tommy arrived home the next evening, there were no children to be greeted by, no smiling wife, just Frances holding an envelope with his name on it in your careful writing. 

Dear Thomas Shelby,

Please do not be alarmed at the absence of the children or myself, it was of my own volition that we have gone. Though I know it is cowardly of me to express all this in a letter, I could not bring myself to face you. 

The children and I have gone to my sister’s home for the time being while everything is finalised. Enclosed in a file on your desk, you will find the papers required for us to be divorced. You need only sign them, everything else can be handled by a lawyer. 

From my father, I understand that your business has become fully legitimised, but for extra safety I will ensure that it is understood by all that this divorce is my own fault and you were merely subject to it. 

In due time, I will begin looking for a place to live near Arrow House or Small Heath so you may visit the children as often as you please. I would not dream of keeping them from their father or vice versa. It is my assumption that you and Grace will take Arrow House as your residence when the child has arrived. 

Please be happy with her. If the love I hold for you is even half the strength of the love you two share, then I would rather deal with my own pain than keep you from it. 

Love, 

Y/n Shelby

Frances watched Mr. Shelby carefully place the letter back into its envelope and turn and walk into his study and close the door behind him. There was a crash and the smashing of glass and then some more crashes and smashes. A guttural scream that made her heart clench in fear and her eyes close. 

Frances had helped you pack your things earlier in the day. She had helped the children ready to leave, had listened as you phoned a lawyer in London and had the papers drafted and sent over to the house, had watched as you wrote the letter to Mr. Shelby. You had kissed her on the cheek and told her to come visit you as a friend, and she had promised she would with tears in her eyes. It felt as if the world was ending. 

But she knew that eventually you would find a nice house for you and the children, supported by your father’s money. You would send them to visit Tommy at Arrow House where Grace would pretend to care for them and they would slowly grow unhappy with their father and his wife. 

Or maybe Tommy would go over to you and you would tell the valet to only open the door for your former husband as you walked the grounds to avoid having to speak with him. And he would try all he could to speak with you, try and surprise you so you would be forced into speaking to him, but you were an intelligent woman, and Frances knew you were highly capable of avoiding someone you didn’t want to see. 

And eventually, despite your heartbreak, you would meet someone truly worthy of you, and he would be willing to become the father of your children and you would want to love him, and everything would feel right for you again. 

But what did Frances know?

Taglist: @4ria790 (I wasn't sure if you wanted to be tagged in only Cillian Murphy RPFs or his characters too so I added you here! Pls let me know if I should only tag you for the RPFs)

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Omg I have no idea how I missed this!!! I’m so sorry!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCHHH!! Ahhhh Tommy being such a soft big brother/father figure makes me so happy! Thank youuu!🥺🥺🥺🥺💜💜💜💜

Omg okay this is super angsty but you know how Tommy pretty much raised Ada and Finn alongside Polly? Imagine if there was another Shelby sister born after the boys came back from the war, and Tommy raising their new baby sister (who is a spitting imagine of Tommy) from birth on and she gets confused and calls him “Daddy” when she’s a toddler as he’s a father figure to his baby sister, and him having to go, “No sweetie, I’m your big brother” and having to explain why she doesn’t have a mommy and daddy and Y/n saying that she wishes that he was her dad 😭UGH I AM SORRY FOR SUCH AN ANGSTY ASK

This was adorable! Thank you for another great request I hope no one minds that the last few were a bit on the shorter side. Finding a gif for this was really tough.

Warnings: sad kiddos. Hurt comfort.

Waking up in the morning was hard enough. But now he cursed his mother's name under his breath. 

Little Margaret Shelby was 4 and a half years old, and when Thomas came home from France she was slightly unsure of him. He’d raised her before the war but those memories were far gone in her little head. 

Now that the boys had settled in, she was very sure of him. She knocked on his door every morning, struggle to open the door, then picking up the mug of tea because she didn't have hands big enough to do both at the same time. And it was the worst tea imaginable, but she would sit on the bottom of his bed proudly, looking at him like he was a Saint. 

“Daddy, what are we going to do today?” She looked at him with the same blue eyes he saw every time he looked in a mirror. He briefly choked on his mouthful of tea, hating the way it burned, just as much as the fact he had to experience the sip twice. 

“Margaret.” He sighed. He was avoiding this and hoped that she just looked up to him. Remembering the way he would see her hurt watching John’s kids pile into his arms every night, his heart felt like it was going to give out. 

“Have I upsetted you?” She stumbled on the words as her eyes started to sting. Her lip fought hard not to curl the way it used to when she was a baby. 

“No, love. But I’m your brother, like John and Arthur. Not your father.” He got it over with. She wouldn't be small forever, and this would be a bad memory lost amongst the sea of bad memories children born in this family experienced. But watching her head give a little nod and how her tiny fingers clenched into fists, he wanted to find something to say to make things better. 

“But we look the same.” She said in a quivering voice. He knew from Polly’s letters that she’d gotten attached to a photo of him, absolutely certain that he was her father. Polly tried to tell her multiple times, eventually forcing the girl to keep her thoughts to herself. Polly warned him that she would probably work up the nerve to ask, and she did her best to keep them apart thinking the distance would help. Probably why the girl would try to wake up before everyone to visit him. 

“I suppose we do.” He tried to make his voice sound cheerful, but even he could tell it fell short.

“Where’s mum and dad then?” tears started to run down her little rosy cheeks. 

“Mum jumped into the cut, dad left us.” He wanted to lie to her, but somehow the truth was easier. 

“They didn’t want me.” The girl was crushed. He quickly abandoned his tea on the night table and motioned her to come closer. She wasted no time settling herself under his arm. 

“Mum and Dad didn’t want any of us. Nothing to do with you.” She nodded and he could tell she was going her best to put on a brave face. 

“And you won’t be my dad.” She pushed her head into his shirt so he couldn't see her face. 

“Doesn't mean I won’t love you. Look after ya and stuff.” Her eyes met his and suddenly he didn’t mind the horrible tea or the way she followed him around every second he was home. 

“Where did mum swim to?” 

“Heaven.” He answered and her face fell again.

“You won’t swim to heaven right?” He knew she was asking him not to leave her behind as they did. But his mind wandered to the gun in his night table, opium pipe under his bed, and the horrid men digging on the other side of his wall all night. He made a choice. 

He knew how bad this would be for someone so soft and small, the thought of her being alone like he was in the chaos that was this family, it wasn't something another person needed to experience. 

“Promise. If I leave it's because they dragged me kicking and screaming. Not going to leave you anywhere, love.” He kissed the top of her head, thinking the words were going to be harder to say but it was easy. Her mood perked up and she snuggled in against him, eyes fluttering shut. He realized that he often got up with the sun every morning meaning she must get up even earlier to struggle with the kettle. 

“How bout we make tea together in the mornings?” 

She smiled at him and he hoped that making it together prevented him from another horrid potion and that she’d sleep in a little later. 

After that was all said and done, he didn't make an effort for anyone in his race to the top, not for anyone but her. Because everything was for her. He wanted her in the best school by the time she was 7, wanted her to have the things they didn't, and needed to get things legal by the time she was old enough to notice things. 

But most importantly, when he came home every night he made sure to catch her as she jumped off the third step and twirl her around saying he’d missed her. 

Polly didn't understand his vicious business motives until he bought Arrow House. He asked her to live with them as he hadn't found a wife and didn't want Margaret alone while he worked. She watched as Tommy’s face lit up as the girl screamed her head off in excitement over her new room. With gold stars hanging from the ceiling and every toy imaginable. 

_____

She would wander into the kitchens to find him up late working next to her while a tutor helped her with maths far beyond the capabilities of anyone in the family. 

Every horse they raced she named. 

When she didn't get along with Grace, he sent her packing. 

When Lizzie became pregnant, Thomas was more worried about how Margaret would handle it. To his relief, she only hugged on to Lizzie, crying into the fabric of her dress promising to be the best big sister ever. Happy that the girl idolized Lizzie.

He had no chance at being her big brother, not that he really tried at all. He was going to be whatever she wanted him to be, and to her amazement, he didn't seem to mind one bit. Somehow she made a family out of them. One Polly was very proud of.

[acewritesfics]

A Wedding After All  | Tommy Shelby 

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Pregnant!Reader 

Request: No.  

Warnings: Alludes to cheating [I do not condone cheating]. Pregnancy. Past childhood sweethearts. Brief mention of war. One f*ck.

Word Count: 2,103

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Is Tommy in his office, Polly?" Y/N asks as she approaches the woman who has always treated her like a daughter. Her cheeks are flushed after walking as fast as she could to the Shelby Company's headquarters. She's come straight from the doctor's office. 

Polly cast a worried glance towards the younger woman. "You alright, Love?" 

"I need to talk to Tommy," she says, her gaze darting towards Tommy's office. "It's important that I speak with him." 

"He ought to return at any moment. I'm sure you can tell me whatever you need to tell him," Polly remarks as she sees Y/N beginning to pace back and forth in front of her. 

"Sorry, but I can't. I won't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." Y/N is unable to calm herself as nauseous feeling settles in her stomach. 

The Shelby family's Matriarch felt unsure how to handle the current situation she finds herself in. If something bothered her, Y/N would always tell her. She never went to Tommy first with anything since their relationship ended years ago.  

Polly knew the woman Y/N's father married a month after his wife died, and it came as no surprise how viciously she treated the teenage girl, from spreading rumours to physically beating her, while her good for nothing father did nothing to stop his new wife. 

Polly immediately scoured the entire town of Small Heath for Y/N and welcomed her into her home once she learned that she was kicked to the streets when she was fifteen. 

It wasn't long before Polly introduced her to her brother's family. When she met the Shelby siblings, they forged an immediate bond. Ada, the only girl, took to her the most, relieved to have another girl to talk to. The two women are still as thick as thieves to this day. They have a sisterly relationship that not even Tommy could disrupt. 

From the moment they met there was an obvious immediate attraction between Y/N and Tommy.  It didn't take long for their friendship to grow into a romantic love. Their romance was a whirlwind of passion, excitement and love. The two of them only had eyes for each other. Everyone knew she was Tommy's girl, and no one dared to touch her. Even though Tommy had little in common with his father, the Shelby name came with a not-so-great reputation.  

Tommy and Y/N weren't hesitant to call each other out on their foolishness, their confrontations occasionally attracting unwelcome attention. But they never went to bed angry with each other, which sometimes resulted in restless nights spent talking and making up. He had been her first love. 

However, their romance eventually ended when Y/N travelled to London shortly after turning 21 to pursue becoming a nurse. Tommy wanted to promise that he'd wait for her to return to Birmingham because he knew she was the one who he was supposed to marry and spend the rest of his life with. She urged him not to make any promises to her, fearing that their parting would only cause more heartbreak. But Tommy never gave up on her, writing almost every day to persuade her that everything would work out between them. They both held hope that it would until the letters eventually became less frequent as they both became busy with their lives.   

The war broke out two years into her training, and she and many other nurses were deployed to France to care for their countries' wounded. There, she was reunited with her former love. In the midst of tending to the soldier's wounds, their love for one another was rekindled. 

But as the days passed, Tommy's once beautiful vibrant blue eyes turned dull, emotionless, and void as they witnessed people die in the most horrific ways. When the war was over and they were sent home, they went their separate ways once more. 

It wasn't until six months ago that Y/N returned Birmingham. She'd been assigned to work in Small Heath's hospital. She preferred working at this hospital to the one she previously worked at in London. It moved at a slightly slower pace which she enjoyed.  

She reconnected with Polly and the brothers once she had settled back in and called Ada at least three times a week to keep her updated now that she was living in London with her son. Despite Ada's displeasure at Y/N wanting to return to Birmingham, the younger of the two women supported her decision knowing that their hometown was where Y/N belonged. 

Y/N had missed Polly and the brothers and was overjoyed to have them back in her life, as well as to be back in theirs. 

She enjoyed being back in Small Heath, even if her heart was crushed by her own past decisions. She assumed she was over Tommy, that all they'd ever be is friends, and that all her old sentiments for him had vanished. Tommy was her first and only love, so learning that he was now engaged saddened her. Polly attempted to convince her that Tommy never stopped loving her and that this marriage was a waste of time and money once he realises, he's making a mistake.  

But all Y/N saw was the way Tommy's soon-to-be bride looked at him, the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, the way he makes her smile. It was the same way she would look at him. The only difference was he never looked at her the same way he looked at Y/N. He never looked at anyone the way he was before the war. Y/N didn't know if Tommy loved his fiancée, but he was marrying her and that was enough for Y/N to know that her and Tommy will never be more than friends again.  

Y/N didn't want to get in the way of their relationship, so she kept her distance from Tommy. Which had been working until one night nine weeks ago. 

Polly pulls out a cigarette, places it between her lips, and lights it while she continues to watch Y/N pacing the room. She takes in the younger woman's form, seeing the small curvature of her belly as her hands rest over her stomach as if protecting it. 

Then it dawns on her.  

Leaving her cigarette in the ashtray, she moves towards Y/N and stops her from pacing a hole into the floor. Y/N seems surprised as Polly reaches out and gropes her breasts, feeling them for a few seconds before letting go. 

"You're with child," she exclaims, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. She is not a fool. This baby can only belong to one man, and it would be the push the former lovers need to come back together. Tommy, after all, would never abandon the woman who is carrying his child, especially when it's the woman he's been hopelessly in love with since he was sixteen 

"Fuck me," Y/N murmurs more to herself since she should have known Polly would notice. Nothing can ever get past the Romani woman. "Please don't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." 

"My lips are sealed," she assures as she places her hand to Y/N's belly.  "Is she Tommy's then?" 

"She?" Y/N raises an eyebrow in response. She wasn't going to bother responding to Polly question since she already knew the answer. 

"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Polly beams, eliciting a smile from Y/N, who appears to be more at ease. "She'll be beautiful, Y/N, and you'll love her more than you've ever loved anyone, even Thomas. There is no deeper love than that between a mother and her daughter." 

They both have a saddened expression on their faces as they recall who they've lost. Y/N lost her mother, and Polly lost her daughter, but they found what they were looking for in each other. Polly always believed that her daughter and Y/N's mother brought them together knowing that they needed one other. 

"You understand that she'll call you nan, right?"  Y/N says, making Polly smile this time. 

"Of course she is," Polly says, hugging her adopted daughter. She lets go of her, looking over her shoulder as someone walks into the office. 

Y/N becomes tense once more. She doesn't have to turn around to find out who it is since she can always feel Tommy's presence before she sees him. She turns around with a timid smile, the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying as she swallows the lump in her throat. 

"Y/N," he says a little taken aback to see her. 

"Good afternoon, Thomas," she says formally, trying not to seem too anxious. Since the night they spent together nine weeks ago, the two have barely spoken. Polly simply stands between them, smiling. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you." 

"I do," he replies and leads her into his office hearing the urgency in her voice. 

He glances worriedly at Y/N after closing the door. "Is everything okay?" 

"I saw the doctor this morning."  

As he gets closer to her, he grows increasingly worried. "Are you ill?" 

"What I have does cause sickness." She claims unable to look at him. The amount of thinking she did on her walk to the office did not help her at all. 

"What do you have?" He tilts her head so she can look at him. He notices tears welling up in her eyes. 

She takes a deep breath in and out, gathering all her courage to tell him as h er tears begin to fall. "I'm pregnant, Tommy." 

The Peaky Blinder remains calm as thoughts start running through his head. His eyes never leave hers. Y/N searches his eyes trying to find a hint of what he could be feeling or thinking. 

"You are the only one I've been with, Tommy. The baby is yours and I know you are to be married so if you want, I will leave. I'll go back to London and raise her by myself. I just thought since you're the father, you have the right to know and decide what you want to do," She rambles. Removing Tommy's hands off her face, she steps back from him, her arms going around her stomach, bracing herself for his rejection.  

"Or," Tommy finally speaks. "Or, you can stay here, I can marry you and we can finally be a family." 

"Tommy, you're engaged to someone else," She looks at him as though he's delusional, not believing what she's hearing. 

"Not a single day goes by where I don't think about you and what it would be like if we stayed together," he admits. "Because of that, I ended my engagement. I can't marry someone else when the only woman I'll ever love is standing right there in front of me." 

"Tommy, I-"  

"We are going to get married, we are going to have this baby and we are going to be a family," he steps towards her cupping her face again. This thumbs brush away her fallen tears. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispers before kissing her. 

"I love you too, Tommy," she replies when the kiss is broken and Tommy pulls away from her. She watches him go over to his desk, pull something out of the draw and walk back over to her. In his hand is a red velvet ring box. He opens it revealing the gold ring with three red ruby stones surrounded by diamonds. She gasps recognizing his mother's engagement ring. "Your mother's ring." 

"I've been saving it for you," he tells her. "You're the only one I want to wear it. Will you do me the honour in becoming my wife?" 

She nods her head, as the tears start to fall harder. Tommy smiles a rare smile, one that was only reserved for her, and slides the ring onto her finger before he kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms go around his shoulders. 

"Well it's about bloody time," Arthur's gruff voice comes from the doorway causing the reunited couple to part. 

Y/N's cheeks flush red. Tommy can't contain the smile on his face. "Brother, there's going to be a wedding after all." 

"Who's getting married?" John asks missing what Arthur just walked in on. The younger of the three takes in the scene before him, seeing Y/N and Tommy wrapped up in each other. "You two are getting married?" he then asks, looking confused. 

"We're getting more than that," Tommy smiles lovingly at the woman who stole his heart when they were sixteen. 

[babsharrison]

Shadows and Sunlight - Thomas Shelby x Reader

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem! Reader

Summary: In Small Heath, you navigate the challenges of motherhood while your husband, Thomas Shelby, becomes increasingly absorbed in his dangerous world. A tense encounter forces him to confront his priorities, leading to a pivotal change in their family dynamic.

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I love Tommy so much that I had to write a fic about him 😭.

It was a quiet night in Small Heath, but inside the Shelby house, the atmosphere was tense.

You looked out the living room window, watching the shadows stretch as the sun set. In your lap, your daughter slept peacefully, her tiny fingers clutching a piece of cloth while a soft smile danced on her face. Listening to the gentle sound of her breathing brought you joy, but also a sadness that was building in your heart.

Thomas, your husband, had been distant. Over the past few months, he had become increasingly absorbed in his business, and the life of crime seemed to be consuming the man you loved. What once was a strong and caring partner was now a shadow, often absent and lost in worries you couldn’t comprehend.

The house, once filled with laughter, now echoed with Thomas's absence.

He had come home late the night before, with the familiar dark look in his eyes. Your little one, only a few months old, was starting to sense the difference in her father. When he wasn’t around, she would cry as if she felt his absence, and that broke your heart.

That night, as you rocked your daughter to sleep, you decided it was time to confront Thomas. The weight of his absence was becoming unbearable, and you could no longer ignore what was happening.

When Thomas finally came home, the moonlight illuminated his tired face. He seemed to carry the world on his shoulders.

“Where have you been?” you asked, trying to hide the worry in your voice.

“Business,” he replied, his voice low and distant.

You saw the internal struggle in his eyes, a mix of anger and pain. It was clear that Thomas was battling invisible demons, but that didn’t absolve him of his responsibilities as a father and husband.

“You can’t keep doing this, Tommy. You’re pushing us away. Your daughter needs you,” your voice faltered, the pain becoming visible.

He closed his eyes, a moment of vulnerability you rarely witnessed. When he opened them, determination was there, but so was a deep sadness.

“I do this for you. To make sure you’re safe,” he murmured, pulling you into a tight embrace.

From that moment on, things didn’t improve.

Thomas grew more reserved, and you found yourself struggling to care for your baby alone, trying to be a strong and loving mother. The emptiness in the house echoed the silence of your life, and you began to fear that Thomas was losing the battle against the world surrounding him.

One night, as you tried to calm your daughter, the doorbell rang. Your heart raced, and a chill ran down your spine. Opening the door, you found a man with a dark expression and eyes as cold as steel.

“Where is Thomas Shelby?” he asked, his voice low and threatening.

Fear surged within you, and an icy panic took over your body. The man was not just a presence; he was a warning of the dangerous world surrounding your family.

Before you could think to shut the door, he pushed it open, causing you to stumble and fall to the floor.

Your heart raced as you crawled backward, looking up at him with wide eyes. He was too close, the smell of tobacco and alcohol filling the air.

“Where is Thomas?” he repeated, now with palpable ferocity.

The little one in the crib began to cry, and you quickly turned to look at her, but the man was not interested. He advanced, and despair washed over you.

“If you don’t tell me where he is, you won’t like what happens to you and your little girl,” he whispered, his hand slowly moving toward your waist.

Panic gripped you as you realized he was holding a gun.

With a swift movement, he pressed it against your head, and you froze, the world around you becoming a blur. Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, and your hands trembled.

“He needs to know he can’t escape. It’s time to pay his debts,” he said, his voice calm, almost indifferent to your terror.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at your daughter, who was crying inconsolably.

The scene felt like a nightmare, and you were desperate. In a final act of courage, you said, “He’s not here. He won’t be back for a while. Please, don’t hurt us. She’s just a baby!”

The man hesitated, perhaps by the sincerity in your voice or the fragility of the situation. But the anger was still there, and he only laughed, a dry and cruel sound.

“Everyone has a price, and you two are on your way to paying it,” he murmured. But before he could do anything, the door swung open with a crash.

Thomas walked in, his expression cold and determined.

“Get away from her!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the room. The man turned to Thomas, the gun still on you, but Thomas's courage was palpable.

“You don’t want to do this, friend,” Thomas said, tension rising in the air. “Put the gun down.”

The man hesitated, and you felt the pressure of the gun dissipate, even if just a little. Thomas slowly moved toward you, muscles tense, each step measured.

“You’re going to regret coming here,” Thomas declared, and with a swift motion, he lunged at the man, knocking him down and sending the gun flying away.

The sound of the impact echoed through the house, and you fell back, breathless, still in shock.

Thomas was on top of the man, his fists delivering blows with the precision of a fighter, and you stood paralyzed, watching as anger and despair blended in your mind.

Finally, Thomas stood up, looking at you with concern in his eyes. He quickly approached, checking to see if you and your daughter were okay.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice filled with anxiety.

As you looked at him, the tension began to dissipate, but the fragility of the situation still lingered.

“I... I am,” you replied, trying to stay calm as you looked at your daughter, who was finally starting to settle down.

From that moment on, Thomas began to change.

He realized he needed to make sacrifices and find a balance between the world of crime and family life. He started spending more time at home, helping with tasks, trying to make your daughter laugh, and enjoying the little moments you shared.

One night, while you were together in the living room, Thomas looked at your daughter, who was in your lap, and asked, “Do you remember when I promised I’d always be here?”

The baby, still too young to understand, simply smiled, flailing her tiny arms.

Thomas chuckled, the tension in his face easing.

“Let’s make this happen, my little one,” he said, looking at you with a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time.

Time passed, and life began to improve.

Thomas brought home flowers, helped with caring for your daughter, and slowly, the sparkle in his eyes returned. In one of those moments, while you were changing the baby’s clothes, he walked into the room and said, “I want her to know I’m here for her. For both of you.”

The next morning, you woke up before your daughter. As you made coffee, you smelled fresh flowers. Turning around, you saw Thomas entering the kitchen with a small vase, wildflowers gently swaying.

“For you, my dear,” he said, the smile now radiant.

In that moment, you knew he was determined to be the man you always believed he could be.

That night, as your daughter slept, Thomas lay down beside you.

“I never wanted you to feel this way, far from me. You and our daughter mean everything to me,” he whispered, wrapping you in his arms.

You smiled, feeling his warmth envelop you and the little one, a new beginning. The tension of the past life started to dissipate, and the love you shared began to shine once again.

And as the night fell, the soft sound of your daughter’s breathing filled the room, you knew that despite the shadows that had passed, the sun was finally shining on you again.

[corrupte3d-mindz]

Forever a Shelby

Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader

Summary: Thomas and you get married.

Wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings:

protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,

Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.

Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"

Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.

Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.

“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle

Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.

“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.

The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.

Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.

Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”

Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.

Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.

Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.

Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.

He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.

Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.

The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.

Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.

"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.

The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.

"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.

"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.

John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.

His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.

His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.

Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.

He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."

"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."

The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."

He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."

Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.

Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."

He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”

With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.

Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.

Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”

The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.

Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.

As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.

"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.

"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.

His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."

Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.

There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.

Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.

"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.

Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.

"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."

"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.

Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.

They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.

Author’s Notes:

Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!

Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it

[princessofmarvel]

Runaway

summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him. 

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 1.98k

 genre | fluff with some angst?

requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!

warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!

author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her. 

They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in. 

“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.

Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her? 

“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair. 

Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.  

Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison. 

He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her. 

“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”

“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off. 

“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”

“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink. 

Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.

“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued. 

“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink. 

Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar. 

“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.” 

“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.

Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.

“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her. 

“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat. 

“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”

“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll. 

Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue. 

“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."

Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.

"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.

The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.

"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile. 

Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church. 

“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.” 

“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.

[whoreforbuckybarnes]

HEY GUYSSS I just wanna let you know that I won’t be posting another imagine until next week some time because I get my GCSE results tomorrow and I would LOVE to relax for a few days after. I’ll probably start writing/planning on the weekend but for now I’m just going to try and relax because I’m VERY anxious for tomorrow 💜💛