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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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I'll Crawl home Part 3

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x OC, Thomas Shelby x Dottie Owens, Alfie Solomons x OC, Alfie Solomons x Dottie Owens

Summary: Tommy Shelby lost a lot in France. His first love, Dottie Owens, became a casualty of war when he walked away from her, broken by his experiences. The weight of his choices stick with him like a bullet in the chest and he will always wonder if he made the right choice.

Tags: Fluffy for the most part, some bittersweet stuff.

Notes: This is the longest part so far and my favorite. I had a lot of fun writing it.

December 1919

Dottie stood anxiously across from the man who would be her new employer. He had seemed confused when she showed up, looking over the letters she had as proof of their correspondence and of the fact that he had indeed offered her a job. She felt anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t go back to Small Heath. She couldn’t leave the city after getting accepted into the University of London. She would not leave here without the job she was promised. “So, you’re like a woman. With tits and all that,” He spoke, looking at her from over the top of his glasses, eyebrows furrowed.

Dottie raised her own in disbelief. He was surprised she was a woman? She hadn’t even attempted to hide it, she did not know she omitted it entirely but she didn’t think she needed to do. She did not have the same fabrications she did on her university application, she figured a secretarial job would not come with the same misogynistic requirements as a college degree did.

“Yes, I’m a woman,” She spoke without even attempting to hide her confusion or bewilderment. “I am not sure what you were expecting.”

He sighed, rubbing his beard and slamming his hand against the table, “Not a fucking bird, that's bloody what I was expecting.”

She was silent for a moment as she grasped at words to say. It wasn’t often that she was speechless, she was sure her brothers would love to see the moment that she was without words.

“My name's Dottie,” spoken as if it was obvious that she’d be a girl because it was….wasn’t it?

“Yeah, I thought it was short for Daryl or bloody Daniel or fuckin’ something.”

“Dorothy,” She answered, her words clipped in annoyance.

“That’s a bloody awful name,” he mumbled, looking over the letters once more.

“And what’s Alfie short for?” She fired back and his eyes shot to hers, “If we’re comparing Alfred’s and Dorothy’s, I think they are equally awful.”

He exhaled a breath, rubbing at his nose a few times before pointing a finger at her, “Now you got a mouth on you, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do, because I was promised a job and now you’re acting as if you’re rescinding the offer after I moved all the way up here.” Dottie's voice was loud and firm, staring down the man with no sign of fear in her eyes. She was pissed and insulted.

“Well fuck me, right, for thinking you was a bloke with the whole going to bloody college thing you put in them letters,” He leaned forward against his desk.

“Women can’t go to school?”

“Now I didn’t fucking say that.”

“No, you just assumed.”

“Yeah because I ain’t never heard of no woman going to University in London,” Alfie was all but yelling at her now, employees of his walking fast past the two of them as if not to incur his wrath.

Dottie had a look to match his, she wasn’t going to leave here without that fucking job. She needed it. Perhaps yelling wasn’t the way to go about it, but her eyes were clouded by indignation. “You men seem to think awfully high of yourself,” Now she was leaning her elbows against his desk, looking him dead in the eyes. She could feel the heat of his breath and smell the hint of alcohol, “Your cocks aren’t that fuckin’ magical, I assure you.”

“You ain't ever seen my cock.”

“Nor do I want to or need to.”

“Fucking, yeah you need to before making assumptions it ain’t magical.”

Dottie bit back her retort, pressing her tongue against her lips and exhaling a breath. She hung her head for a moment and sat back in her seat. “I need this job. I really need this job. And you need someone to take care of your clerical work, communications, bookkeeping, whatever else it is. I’m wagering the bloke who used to do that work died in France somewhere. You need help bad, you need help that is willing to overlook the fact that this is very obviously not a bakery, Mr. Solomons, and someone who is willing to overlook whatever else it is that you are doing here.”

Alfie stared at her, wetting his lips as he contemplated what she said. “So you know what happens here then, or at least you can imagine. Bloody observant. There’s dangers with it, then, right? You think you can keep yourself safe, yeah? I can only do so fucking much. Don’t want no fathers or brothers coming after me ‘cause you got hurt, yeah? Or lovers.”

“My dad’s an alcoholic, one brother died at the Somme. Other brother left his mind in France.”

“Don’t care,” He waved off her words, “Can you defend yourself? Can you shoot a gun?”

Dottie wet her lips and nodded, “I can.”

“Can you hit a target?”

“Yes.”

He took a deep breath, “See, I’ll have to take your word for it because I’m afraid if I give you a gun, you’ll blow me bloody brains out.”

“I might.” Alfie stared at her a moment more, tapping his fingers against the desk. “How do you exactly plan on balancing University classes and this work, yeah?

“Well, I sent you the schedule that I was given. I work around those lecture times. I can work weekends. I can be the first one in and the last one out. I’m sure you have the references that I sent you. I’m hardworking. I need this job to be able to afford to live here and go to school.”

Alfie and Dottie stared at each other for a few moments before he pressed his palms to his eyes. “Fuck me. Be here by 6 am tomorrow, yeah?”

Dottie was shaken up by the ordeal at the club. She didn’t think seeing him face to face again would leave her such a mess. Nor did she act like it did. She was the only one in the room to say anything to Tommy but the moment he left, the moment she found the chance to leave, the emotions hit her. She didn’t know if it was love, or what she felt for Tommy, but there was something there inside her chest. She looked at him again and she felt angry for all that he had done, all that he had taken from her, but she found that she missed him. She missed their conversations at the boat docks, she missed reading to him and talking about what they read together, she missed his crazy family and the feeling like she was part of it.

But did that mean that she still loved him? Or did that mean she missed someone who was a friend as much as he was a lover?

She entered the house quietly, she wasn’t sure if anyone was home yet or not. It was late, but it wasn’t unheard of for her husband to not return home at all at night and simply call her in the morning to apologize or tell her where he had been.

Dottie was in front of the mirror, desperately trying to reach the zipper of her dress when he appeared behind her.

“It's unbelievable that I let you out of the fucking house looking like this you know,” Alfie’s fingers easily found the zipper and pulled it down, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like making other men jealous,” Dottie turned around and pressed a kiss to his cheek, her lipstick leaving a red mark, before moving to her vanity to start the process of taking off her makeup.

“Yeah, yeah I do fucking like that. It’s unbelievable that you aren’t bent over the fucking couch any time I see you in one of them sparkly dresses is what I mean,” He started unbuttoning his shirt and getting out of his clothes for bed.

Dottie did go dancing a lot, especially on the breaks from school. The Italians and the Jews of London may be in a war but for the most part, the wives and girlfriends were allowed to freely move in and out of the territory. It was some act of chivalry amongst criminals. She didn’t know much of anything about the illegal aspect of Alfie's job anymore, he kept it away from her. She was kept out of the bad business, she didn’t want to hear about it or become part of it in some way.

Tommy had never let her know of what The Blinders did, he never involved her in that work, perhaps it was the reason she kept that same energy here. Perhaps it was because Alfie was much like Tommy in some ways, that Alfie wouldn’t want to involve her either. It did say something about her own sense of morality that she had fallen in love with two criminals. But, Dottie would never pretend to be virtuous.

Her makeup was off and she was taking the pins out of her hair when Alfie spoke again, sat at the edge of their bed in only his briefs. “I do think it might be time for you to stop visiting that part of the city, yeah. Find another dance club. Only a matter of time before something fucking happens at this point.”

She pressed her tongue to her teeth, placing the pins down before running her brush through her hair. She didn’t know how she was going to tell him about the way the night transpired.

“Dot, ‘m serious. If they bloody get to you, yeah, I don’t,” He ran a hand down his face and took a deep breath. “I’m a mad dog, yeah, and you hold the fucking leash, love. Without you, I’m gone. Without you, I’m blowing the fucking city off the map. You understand?”

Dottie nodded, placing the hairbrush down and walking over to him. She stood between his legs and took his face in her hands. “Nothing is going to happen to me,” She ran her fingers through his hair, “I’m not going anywhere until I’ve got tired of annoying you until you’ve given me plenty of babies, and we retire somewhere on the coast.”

He rested his head against her chest, breathing in her scent for a moment before laying back on the bed and pulling her on top of him. He pressed kisses to her neck and his fingers danced up her slip before her voice stopped him.

“The Peaky Blinders came to Sabini’s tonight.”

“Fucking what?” Alfie stopped his movements, now sitting against the headboard and staring at her.

“The Shelby brothers were at the club. They caused a scene, cut some of Sabini’s men, they were kicked out of course when the host pulled out a shotgun. I’m not sure what the purpose was. They gave some speech and then they left,” Dottie sat in his lap, omitting some of the truth.

Alfie leaned his head against the headboard and groaned, “Fucking hell, Dot. Why did you have to tell me this now, yeah, when you look that bloody fucking good and you’re sitting in me lap,” He looked at her for a moment and sighed again. “Because now, I have to send a fucking telegram, right? And by the time I get back, yeah, you’ll be bloody sleeping. Then I’ll have to wank it.”

“You could always wake me up.”

“You look too fucking peaceful, what kind of fucking husband would I be then?” He pressed a kiss to her hairline and moved her off his lap.

“Why do you need to send a telegram anyway?” She was propped up on one elbow watching him get dressed.

“Can’t tell you, love, it’s business.”

Tommy was a man of contradictions, a man always conflicted. His mind was pulled a thousand places at once but rarely did his heart get involved. Now, that was where the biggest conflict was raging. His mother had told him that a woman could love two men but only be with one. He didn’t know what that meant, as he grew up he figured it was bullshit. But now, he was wondering if a man could be in love with two women.

But did he love two women? Did just love Dottie? Just Grace? Both? Neither?

They were the most complicated emotions he’d had to date. The woman who had stolen his heart, the woman who understood him like no one else, the woman who had been loyal to him but he’d left her because the thought of him ruining her was too much. Or the woman whom he’d opened up to again, who made his demons feel calm, who made his nightmares stop, and who betrayed him in the end.

Dottie wouldn’t have betrayed him.

That was a thought that plagued him at night when he thought of the two the most. There was no world in which Dottie would be working with some copper, there is no world in which Dottie would sell that information to someone.

Maybe that was why when Sabini’s men attacked him, it was not Grace that he thought of in the pain-induced stupper. It was Dottie. It was her voice he’d hear, her touch he’d feel, the scent of peaches and flowers he smelt. It was her memories that filled his mind. He swore that when the nurses started caring for him, he saw her but it was just the morphine in his system making him see things.

He kept thinking of that fucking wedding ring. He kept wondering who had she married. Part of him was offended that she had even dared to move on but then so had he. He could hear her voice tear into him for even thinking such a thing.

Letters and wedding rings and visits from Campbell made all these feelings swirl together inside him. He felt like he’d explode. It was one of the reasons that he’d invited Ada to the grand opening. Yes, to talk to Polly, but because she was the only family member that Dottie still kept in touch with. Dottie had been close with Polly and Martha too, but Martha was dead and Polly would tell Tommy any coorespondce that was sent.

It was as the night was wearing down that Tommy corned Ada. Perhaps he had a look in his eyes that told her exactly what he was about to ask because his sister was already on the defensive.

“I don’t know anything.”

“About what?” Tommy asked sitting down across from her and running the cigarette across his lips.

“Whatever it is you’re going to ask me.” She crossed her arms and faced away from him.

He sighed, lighting the cigarette, “She’s in London too, she’s just as unsafe if Sabini’s men start asking questions around here.”

Ada sighed, “I knew it,” She shook her head.

“Ada, I need to make sure she’s safe. I owe Danny that much.”

“I know why you’re asking questions and it has nothing to do with Danny Whizzbang.”

“Ada…Tell me where she lives.” He exhaled smoke.

She tapped her fingers against the table, sighing heavily before answering. “She has a flat by the University, she only uses it when lectures are going on. Where she is other times, I cannot tell you.”

It wasn’t here, he knew. She visited her family sometimes but she never stayed long enough to explain her absence from her flat, “I assume it's with her husband,” Tommy exhaled more smoke.

“Her husband, whom I do not know,” Ada told him rather sternly, “I have yet to meet him and no one was invited to the wedding besides Rosie and the boys. Do not go asking Rosie for information, don’t put that poor woman in the middle more than she already is.”

Tommy wet his lips, “You know anything about this husband of hers?”

Ada sighed, crossing her legs, “He takes care of her. She’s always done up, she’s always buying Karl new toys and clothes. Offered to for me but I refuse to take her money. He puts her through school. Polly still sends her money each month, or someone is telling Polly to send money each month, and Dottie saves that to open her own bookshop one day. She’s doing really well.”

Tommy leaned back in his chair, exhaling smoke. She was right, he was telling Polly to send her money each month. Enough to cover school expenses. He supposed he could stop now. He knew he wouldn't.

“Tom, she seems happy.” Ada leaned forward, “Don’t screw it up for her.”

Tommy barely heard the words, his eyes looking out the window where the spires of the cathedral reached into the sky. He could hear the bells ringing midnight. He closed his eyes and let his mind wonder once more.

December 25th 1912 “You lot better fucking behave, yeah? This is a fucking Holy day.” Polly was whisper yelling at the Shelby crew outside the church, Finns' hand held tightly in her own. Her other hand was busy fixing the others' clothes or hair.

“I don’t understand why we’re even all here,” John mumbled. “Because you lot have shown this year that you need Jesus. Tommy broke that poor Greta girl's heart, Arthur has been fighting his way through half of Birmingham, and you, John Shelby, managed to knock up that poor Martha girl.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, sticking his hands in his pockets. “1913 isn’t going to be a better year for us just because we went to fucking Christmas mass, Pol.”

“Indulge me this once. What would your mother say?”

That got the group to quiet quickly. Their mother had been dead just over a year and she would have wanted them to listen to their Aunt. To spend a day together do something holy.

Tommy sighed and trudged his way inside, slipping into one of the pews. The place was crowded and he hated it. He was pushed against the wall, his legs pressed against Johns. “Pull it out next time, yeah,” He whispered to his brother, “Don’t want to be forced to come here again on Good Friday.”

“Shut the fuck up, Tom,” John pushed at him with his shoulder, “I plan on marrying her anyways.”

“That poor girl.”

John went to push at him again but Tommy beat him to it, laughing softly as he pushed his brother away.

It was then that his attention was distracted by a young woman helping her mother into the pew. She had deep green eyes and long dark lashes to match, curling brown hair that was pinned back, dimples in her cheeks, and he could tell by her demeanor she very much didn’t want to be here.

He watched her the entire service. She knew the songs without looking at the hymn book, knew how to answer the priest's calls, and knew when to kneel and when to stand, she did so exactly on cue every time. As much as she didn’t want to be here, it was obvious she was here often.

As they were standing up to leave he nudged John, “Who’s she?”

“Dottie Owens. She was a year ahead of me in school,” John answered with a slight smirk.

“Owens? Like Danny and David Owens?” He watched as he helped her mother out of the pew.

“Yeah, she’s their younger sister.”

“Didn’t know they had a younger sister.”

“Stay away from her Tom,” Arthur butted in, “Don’t need any more Shelby bastards running around.”

“Fuck off,” John mumbled.

“He’s gonna marry her anyways, aren’t you John?” Tommy teased him.

Polly turned around to the boys, “As he should, now will you 3 wait until we leave the church to be lechers?”

Tommy was glad for the cold winter air after the stuffy chapel seats. He took a deep breath and he saw her again standing on the steps. It seemed her older brother David was going to take their mother home from the conversation he heard, and Dottie was planning on spending time with a friend.

He found himself running to catch up to her, walking in step next to her.

“I’ve not seen you around before,” Tommy broke the silence.

Dottie looked at him for a moment and shoved her hands into the pockets of her coat. “Perhaps you haven’t.”

“I’m Tommy Shelby,” He introduced himself, slightly off put by her demeanor. He wasn't used to his affections being so easily ignored.

“I know who you are,” She answered, not looking at him as she spoke.

He walked next to her, he felt his presence was unwelcome but she hadn’t asked him to leave yet.

“I have a feeling you don’t like me, Dottie Owens.”

“What would give you that implication,” She asked, again not looking at him.

“You’re being cold.”

“That's just the weather.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, he was already rather intrigued by her but now even more so,“If it's the weather, or if it's you, will you at least let me walk you to your destination so I know nothing ill happens to you?”

She nodded and kept walking, him alongside her. Tommy looked over at her every so often and tried to gauge what she was feeling or what he should say. It wasn’t long before they got to the house of her friend, just as she was about to go upstairs he stopped her.

“Would you like to come with me for lunch tomorrow? There’s a shop that makes really nice soups and finger sandwiches.” He waited to see her answer, tongue pressing against his cheek.

“No.” She answered he wasn’t surprised by the answer but he wanted to know why.

So he asked.

She was quiet for a moment, he could tell she was contemplating leaving before giving him an answer. He could also tell that part of her seemed to enjoy the attention, however brief it was. It could only be because he resembled a life that was different from the one she lived currently. He’d only seen a glimpse into but if you’d asked him, he could tell that she felt stuck.

“You have a reputation,” Dottie answered shortly.

“A reputation? A reputation of what?” He knew of what exactly, in fact, there were many reputations he had. It simply depended on who you asked.

“You take women to bed and then discard them after.” Dottie wasn’t afraid to look him in the eye as she spoke, crossing her arms and holding her ground.

“There’s no bed involved with soup and finger sandwiches.”

She stared at him a moment, pursing her lips in thought.

“Look, Dottie Owens, please come get lunch with me tomorrow. There will be no talk of beds or bedding or bedrooms. You can tell me to fuck off tomorrow afterwards if you don’t like it but, you’ll get out of the house and you’ll have a free lunch.”

Dottie wet her lips, sighing. He could tell she was mulling it over, and he could tell that she wanted to get out of the house, “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow at 11.” She gave him the time and before he could say anything else, she disappeared into her friend's house.

#peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x oc #alfie solomons fanfic

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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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I'll Crawl Home part 2

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x OC, Thomas Shelby x Dottie Owens

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Violence mentioned, dementia, child loss mentioned briefly, OOC Tommy Shelby?

Notes: This takes place during the first episode of season 2, with some flashback thrown in. I'm still figuring out Tommy and also dialogue isn't my strong suite. Any constructive feedback is welcomed

Dotted had pinned her curls up, a few wiry strands escaping and falling into her eyes as they always did. She was fixing her hair, angling her head to observe her makeup and Tommy just stood there, watching. He leaned against the door frame, an unlit cigarette sitting between his lips. He’d been too distracted to light it. She must have noticed, her eyes meeting his in the mirror and the corners of her lips turning up in a smile.

“Keep staring at me like that and I’ll think you’ve gone soft,” She teased, using the tip of her finger to fix her lipstick.

He walked behind her, his hands resting on the vanity to cage her in and resting his chin on her shoulder,“Soft, no. Just a man who knows what he wants.”

Dottie scoffed, “How many ladies have you lured into your bed with that one?”

“Two, maybe three,” he pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and she shrugged him off with a shake of her head and a roll of her eyes.

“Don’t give me that look, love, at least they were in a bedroom. You let me have you in the parish garden. For God and Mother Mary to see, "Tommy wet his lips, wrapping his arms around her middle.

“You are the most disgusting man I have ever met,” Dottie glared at him in the mirror but did nothing to move him off her, her fingers dancing up and down his arms.

“And you are insufferable,” He said, his eyes giving away the teasing.

“You are a degenerate criminal .”

“You’re a lust-filled harlot.”

“You are arrogant and full of yourself.”

“Those two mean the same things, Dottie love .”

That got her to push him away and he barked out a laugh, turning her around and looking down at her. Her lips pursed in an angry pout, his thumb tracing it softly. “ I’m going to marry you one day," He pressed his forehead to hers.

“You better," She whispered softly back to him, her hands resting on his chest. He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips, but she pulled away.

“You won’t dance with me.”

“What?”

“You won’t dance with me."

Tommy looked at her a moment, before scoffing, “ I won’t fucking dance and so now I can’t kiss my girl .”

“Those are indeed the rules .”

“When have I ever followed rules?”

Dottie shook her head, “ When I make them .”

He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head with an eye-roll.

“You do whatever I ask of you, ” Dottie smirked, readjusting her dress.

“I do not."

“You do too, that's how I know you’ll end up dancing with me .”

Tommy placed the cigarette between his lips again, watching her. She was right, it was infuriating, but she was. There wasn’t a single thing he wouldn’t do for her.

_______________

December 1921

Thomas inhaled the smoke of Birmingham, letting it fill his lungs. Freddie Thorne had been a constant in his life, from childhood to France. Always there, always together. Brothers in every sense but blood, he would never admit it but he was glad Ada had Freddie. Freddie was a good man, a good friend. They had gone there separate ways, had arguments and fights, fundamental disagreements on how the word should, and did, work. But Freddie was Tommy's oldest friend.

Now he was dead.

He ran a cigarette across the bottom of his lip, his eyes looking at the sky as he exhaled a breath. Danny was gone, now Freddie. The only other two who shared the trauma of those damn tunnels were gone and it was just him. It was lonely but he found comfort in it. One day he would be in the dirt too and leave this fucked world behind without another thought.

It was almost different.

He almost had it all. A second chance at love and happiness. At a family. His soul was still and calm with Grace. She betrayed him and still, he loved her. Her singing would fill his head, he'd look for her in old record books to see her writing once more. He closed his eyes. He'd been given two chances and both of them he threw away.

"Mildred!"

Tommy was pulled from his thoughts by the shouting. A woman with all too familiar green eyes charged toward him. She looked more disheveled every day, with dark circles under her eyes and chapped lips. "Mildred!" Rosie Owens yelled out once more, running after her mother-in-law, she looked exasperated and almost as exhausted.

"You bastard!" Mildred yelled as she saw him.

He sighed, this was a common occurrence now. The woman had always been sick in the mind for as long as he could remember but it was getting worse.

"You broke my daughter's heart." And then she'd hit him with her bag, as she always did.

"Yes, yes, I know. Heartless bastard," Tommy said softly, Rosie moving the woman away from him. One of Rosie’s sons came out it escort his grandmother back home.

"I'm so bloody sorry, Tommy. The doctors figured she'd have stopped by now. Her memory is almost gone but she sure remembers you. Not sure why."

"Because I'm a bastard," He lit the cigarette.

Rosie exhaled a breath. "She still asks for them, David and Danny. Sometimes she'll rock a doll and think it's one of 'em. Sometimes she'll sob when she remembers what happened. With the boys dying and Dottie leaving, she's just been worse."

"Me offers still on the table, Rosie. It's the least I owe you," He breathed out smoke and gave her a look.

"I know, I know. You're already putting the boys through school and I can't ask more of you," She looked nervously away from him, pulling her shawl tighter around her shoulders.

Tommy eyed her for a moment before shaking his head with an emotionless laugh. "She told you not to accept more of me money, didn't she?"

Rosie looked like she was torn, there was a thick silence between them for a moment. "Something like that. She's looking for a nice home in London for her mum with a nurse. Said I've done more than enough and should focus on the boys."

Tommy wet his bottom lip, tilting his head slightly, "With what fucking money?"

The woman looked shocked, squinting her eyes as he looked expectantly for an answer.

"Didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"Well..." Rosie stopped herself, thinking over her words. "She got her degree. Only girl in her class, graduated with the best grades. Pissed all those boys off an awful lot."

"None of us are surprised are we?" He took another inhale of smoke before putting his cigarette out. "You ever need anything, let me know, yeah?"

Rosie nodded but she couldn't look at him. Tommy knew she was hiding something from him but he didn't know what.

_______________

"I look bloody fucking daft, Dottie." Tommy hissed, his hand on her waist as he moved to the rhythm of the music.

"Only because you’re paying too much attention," Dottie whispered back. "You have to let it come naturally, Tom."

Tommy glared down at her, "I can't believe I'm fucking doing this."

"It's because you love me ."

"Shut up."

“You’re so in love with me.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, scoffing. “You’re right. I’m so in love with you, Dottie Owens. I’ll love you until the stars stop shining .”

Dottie smirked at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “ See, I was right. You were paying too much attention .”

It was only then that he realized they’d been dancing to the music and he hadn’t stepped on her once.

“That doesn’t mean that I have to like it, ” Tommy mumbled.

“You better learn. I love dancing, ” Dottie teased.

His hand gripped her hip tighter, he did enjoy it .Even if he didn’t want to.

“ I'll love you until the sun stops burning, Tommy Shelby .”

_______________

She was there. Standing in the crowd of people, he couldn’t see her face but he knew she was there. Tommy could always feel it when Dottie was around. The train whistle sounded different when she was onboard, the air felt fresher when she was breathing it, and he felt calmer. Her presence was a balm to his soul, even when she avoided him. Even when he hasn’t seen her face since that December day in 1918 or heard her voice since before then.

He attempted to speak to her, thanking her for coming to the funeral. Though she wasn’t there for him. She was there for Ada, she was there because Danny would have wanted to be there. But he knew for damn sure Dottie wasn’t there for him. Before he could move, Polly grabbed his arm.

“Let it be, Thomas.” Her look was cold and sharp.

He pulled his arm away from her but heeded her advice. He didn’t see her again until much later. He stopped by Danny’s grave, pouring out a glass for his lost comrade. He noticed the flowers on his headstone were fresh. He exhaled smoke and he found her exactly where he knew she’d be.

The small headstone was the only one Tommy avoided. He didn’t know if he could bear to see the name etched in stone or the dates inscribed under it. He’d rather avoid it. It was the most poignant reminder of all he had lost and all he had put Dottie through. He knew she visited the grave anytime she was in Birmingham. He knew she visited every year on the anniversary. Every time she left a toy. Charlie swears he hears her singing lullabies.

He watches her walk away and he’s tempted to visit that grave for the first time but he doesn’t. Instead, he shoves his hands in his pockets and heads back to his family.

Tommy sat in his office now, looking at Grace's handwriting. His fingers traced the letters. Maybe he still was a romantic after all. He longed for something that he couldn’t have anymore. Even in the delicate numbers she wrote to keep the books balanced for the pub, he missed Grace. The lamp oil was burning low but still, he flipped through the book. It was when he relit the lamp that the newspaper caught his eye.

His mind wandered to what Rosie had told him earlier. He wondered….

It didn’t take him too long to find an article squeezed into one of the middle pages. No picture accompanied it but he didn’t need it, her name was there in thick black ink.

“ Small Heath Native Dottie Owens graduates with top marks.”

Dottie Owens graduated Saturday eve from the University of London. The only woman among her class, she graduated with top marks in her area of study, history and anthropology. Owens expressed interest in continuing her education in pursuit of her PhD and wants to study more philosophy. It is unknown if the University of London will allow a woman to earn such advanced degrees. This paper suspects not. She is the first of her family to go to college and the first woman from Small Heath to earn such merits. Her brother, David Owens, died for king and country in The Great War.

Tommy read the article over and over. Of course, she did it. Of course, she wanted to pursue more advanced degrees. He knew she’d be fuming that the newspaper assumed she wouldn’t be able to. That would just motivate her to try harder. He’d heard that Oxford was now accepting women, he knew her well enough that he knew that would be her next step.

He pulled out the knife and gently cut the article out of the newspaper. He flipped it over, scribbling the date over whatever article was on the back. There was a box in the bottom drawer of his desk, inside it were letters, pictures, a ring, and now this newspaper article. Just as he couldn’t let Grace go, he couldn’t let Dottie either. There was a part of his heart that would always belong to Dottie and there was part of his heart that would belong to Grace. He didn’t know which held a bigger part but between them, there was no room left for another.

_______________

“I hear in London they have dance houses filled with loud music, with women in short dresses and they dance until the early hours of the morning.” Dottie rested on Tommy’s chest, her naked breasts pressing into his side. His fingers were playing with her hair, lifting strands of her hair and then dropping them.

“We can dance in Birmingham.”

“Not like that, we can’t. Not with loud music. Not with short dresses. Not without people telling my father.” Dottie rolled her eyes.

“What is with you and dancing?” He looked down at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“It's fun. It's freeing. You don’t have to think. You don’t have to be anything, you just let the music flow through you.” She shrugged.

“Figured you liked thinking, with that big fucking brain of yours.”

“Not all the time. If all I did was think then it would get boring, then I’d get burnt out. Then I would get all grumpy like you.” Dottie smiled up at him.

Tommy rolled his eyes with a laugh, rolling over so he was hovering above her with his weight resting on one arm. “Grumpy?”

She nodded, “When you think too much you get this look and you get all broody and rude.”

“Broody and rude? Me?”

She nodded again, this time not saying anything.

“Tell you what, Dottie love, when I can get you that fucking ring you deserve and you take my last name, we will honeymoon in London and I will take you to all the dance houses you can dream of.”

_______________

Singing reminded him of Grace.

Dancing reminded him of Dottie. And this place was full of reminders. The loud music, the dancing couples, this would have been paradise for her. He wondered if she still liked dancing. He wondered how much she’d changed. Was she even the person he loved anymore?

He didn’t have time to ponder such questions. There was business to be done tonight. It started quicker than he thought but it was as cathartic as ever. The air was thick, the tension was thick, and the sound of women screaming suddenly stopped as Tommy addressed the crowd.

“Those of you who were last, will soon be first. And those of you who are downtrodden will rise up.” He looked around the crowd, the feeling of terror they had fueled his arrogance. He felt powerful and the power was addicting. “Yup.” He added with a nod, looking around more.

The air was thick, the fear was palpable, and the copper smell of blood hung in the air. There was a threat veiled in his promises. He would take London, somehow, the city would be his, and the feeling of power he had would increase tenfold.

It was the laugh that tore him out of it. Arthur was the first to turn to the sound, then John. Both prepared to teach whoever dared disrespect them a lesson.

“Bloody fucking hell,” John mumbled, “You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me, mate.”

Tommy didn’t need to turn to know exactly who it was. The sound of her laugh was forgotten to his ears but it filled him and the memories lit him up. He turned finally and saw her for the first time in 3 years. He kept the blank stare but it took all of him.

Dottie Owens stood in front of him, in a short golden dress and tights that caught the light perfectly to make them sparkle like the twinkle that was currently in her eyes. The headband she wore matched her dress and style of the time but she wore her curls long and pinned back. His hand flexed at his side, others might have interpreted it as restraint from punching her but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

He stared at her and she stared back, the etch of the laugh on her lips. “Are you the fucking messiah?” She asked before giggling again.

Still, Tommy stared, wetting his lips. The only one who could call him on his shit, even now. He didn’t speak, breaking eye contact and walking away. His steps were heavy and thoughtful.

“Be fucking careful, yeah?” Arthur pointed a finger at her, a veiled threat that wouldn’t amount to anything because Tommy wouldn’t let it.

His brothers knew not to comment on it, knew it would lead somewhere bad. Tommy adjusted his hat, an outward signal of the inward change. He wasn’t going to focus on her, on Grace. Tonight would be an escape full of sex, drugs and drink. Stepping outside, the stars shone brightly through the smog of London. Almost as bright as the diamond sat on Dottie's left ring finger. He knew now what Rosie hadn’t wanted to tell him, where Dottie was getting money to pay for her mother to go to a home.

Dottie Owens had gotten married.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc

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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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That last fic of Thomas Shelby... I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA

Thank you!!! I plan on continuing it.

#aaaahhhh #i love that you love it

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bamsywrites · 2 months ago

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I'll Crawl Home

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x OC, Thomas Shelby x Dottie Owens

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Child Loss mention, First Love, Yearning, Great Gatsby type shit, I'm not good at tagging things, Pre-War Tommy Shelby

Notes: I hope you liked it!! I am always open to feed back, positive or negative. I plan on continuing this fic to follow the show, accompanied with more flashbacks. I really liked getting to write pre war Tommy, I tried to take bits of what people on the show said about him. But I think I struggled with writing post war Tommy.

November 30th 1918

Tommy sat, taking in the quiet of the night. He knew not what time it was, he knew only that the dark outside seemed all consuming. It felt like a self reflection. It felt as if all he was was darkness, was black, was empty of any good, of any light. Who had he been before, he could hardly remember. The memory of that boy was drowned with gun fire, with blood and gun shots and screaming. He felt as if that was a stranger, but did he not feel a stranger now? Was he not an imposter now?

He wonders if he was supposed to die in that tunnel, perhaps that’s why the world now feels as it does. Perhaps that’s why it feels empty, feels void and meaningless. He sighed, pulling a cigarette from his coat pocket and rubbing it against his bottom lip, his eyes drifting to his window and focusing on a specific spot. The few street lamps that dotted the street were enough that he could see the outline of the apartment and its windows. There were no lights in the windows, no candles lit.

Of course not ,why would there be?

He exhaled a breath of smoke, his eyes focusing on the upstairs window. He knew it was opened just a crack, she hated being too hot when she slept but she feared opening it more in case someone dared to climb through it to rob her or worse.

“This town is full of degenerates and criminals and I’m not stupid, Thomas.”

The memory washed over him and he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be lost.

“I would never dare to call you stupid, love, but perhaps a little too much in your own head, yeah. No one is going to break into your home from the fucking upper window. No one is going to bring a ladder to a robbery.”

“You don’t know that, Tommy. They could bring a ladder, or perhaps be able to jump really, really high.”

He blinked, wetting his lips to suppress a laugh.

“Don’t you laugh at me Thomas Shelby.” The annoyance dripped from her voice and her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

The sight broke him and a chuckle rumbled through his chest, closing the space between them and cupping her face. His thumbs rubbing gentle circles against her cheeks. He adored her, he loved her more than anything and he knew it was obvious. She was like oxygen for him, without her he’d be lost. He gently turned her face up towards him.

“No one would dare because everyone in this town knows you’re my girl. Everyone in this fucking town knows I’d kill ‘em, yeah, if they hurt you. Cut ‘em from cheek to cheek, ear to ear.”

She took a deep breath, melting into his touch for a moment. “But what if someone comes in from out of town?”

“What if there’s an out of town burglar that has brought a ladder or can jump really, really high and breaks in through your window?”

“Yes.”

“Then scream really loud and I’ll be there. Or,” he moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer to him, “maybe I should stay over more so I can protect you, yeah.” He pressed a kiss to her neck.

He could still taste the salt of her skin on his lips, the smell of her hair, the softness of her skin. He closed his eyes and inhaled the smoke, letting it fill his lungs before exhaling. The smoke clouded his vision for a moment, when it cleared he saw the small flicker of a lamp being lit. She was awake. He wondered why, he wondered what could wake her this late. Or perhaps it was early, perhaps she was getting ready for work. He ignored the clock on the mantle, he didn’t want the answer.

If she was awake, and it wasn’t to get ready for work, he knew she was sitting in her chair with a book in her lap. He could see it now, her wiry curls falling down her shoulders or hastily tied up with a ribbon, her legs crossed, sometimes with her cat nuzzled between the chair and her leg.

God, he fucking hated Edgar.

That cat scratched his arms so bad he still had scars up and down his arms. He would stick to horses. He blew out another lung full of smoke. Another memory flooding his mind.

The light in her room usually went out at 9 and was never on later than 10, but it was now half past 12 and still the lamp burned in her window. Tommy couldn’t help but wonder the reason as to why. His reason for being up at this hour was dressing herself to leave. He couldn’t remember what she said her name was, some girl who had caught his attention while drinking with his brother but she was only to keep his bed warm and his balls empty and the feeling was mutual. The girl across the street, Dottie, she was something different. Tommy wouldn’t say he was courting her , not yet, but he had made his interest known. He was obviously quiet taken with her, she was intelligent and independent. She had never been afraid to speak her mind to him. A good Catholic girl, too. Being around her was intoxicating.

“Will I see you later?” He was taken from his thoughts by the woman’s voice, his eyes tearing from the lamp across the street.

“If you want, yeah.” He reached into his pockets and pulled out a crisp bill. “It was a good time.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he placed the bill in her hand.

He watched her leave out the window, his eyes torn between her form and the light in the window, waiting for the woman to turn down another street before he hastily buttoned his shirt and rushed out the door, not bothering to put shoes on as he rushed down the steps and out the door.

He stood in street, looking up at the window, not quiet knowing how to get her attention. Tommy reached and picked up a few lose stones, throwing one at the window, then another, and another, and another, until…

“What in the ….OW!” Dottie was leaning out of her window, her palm pressed into her eye. “What is wrong with you?!” She whisper yelled down to him.

He smirked up at her, she looked beautiful with her hair down and in her white night gown. He would like to see her in white again, he thought to himself. “You’re awake.”

“I could be blind.”

“But you’re awake.”

“…Yes.”

“Why?”

She looked down at him in an exasperated silence, “Because sleep evades me. Why do you care?”

“You have to go to the shop tomorrow, yeah. It would do me mind better to know you’re not going into work sleep deprived.”

Dottie sighed, eyeing him for a moment. She knew of his interest in her, she had indulged in his flirtations a few times and she enjoyed his attention and company. He knew this, he knew her sour mood came from her lack of sleep and annoyance of getting hit in the face with a small stone.

“I do not know why I cannot sleep, just that I cannot.” She answered back.

“Well, let me help you.”

She blinked, brow furrowed. “Excuse me? What are youn insinuating?”

“Nothing ungentlemanly, I promise. You will not need to see Father Thomas in the morning for confession.” And he meant it. He may desire her but he did not desire to take her to bed or to bring up the matter if she was not the first to instigate it.

She started at him, tongue peaking out to wet her lip as she thought. She sucked her teeth, before nodding. “This is a bad idea,” her voice was soft enough that he could barley here her.

“I’ll let you in the door.”

It was that night that he met Edgar, that night that Edgar has scratched the fuck out of his arm. He remembered how she felt in his arms, his fingers running through her hair and inhaling her scent. He had read some book to her, he couldn’t remember which, he was too distracted by the feel of her to pay attention to what he the words he was reading. He thinks it was that moment that he decided she would be his wife one day.

That battlefield in France changed him, though. The tunnel with the Germans destroyed any hope for a future with her. He was broken, his head full of smoke and gunfire. She was still his girl and what kind of man would he be to subject the woman he loved to a life full of him?

Thomas watched the light of the lamp flicker and fade. He needed something stronger than a cigarette if he was ever to get a semblance of sleep.

Dottie lay in her bed, staring through her window as the first rays of sunlight filtered through. Her suitcases were packed, ready for the train journey to London. She wasn’t going to stay in Small Heath, there was barely anything for her stay for. Things had changed and she knew if she stayed, so would she. Her ambitions, her desires, they would fade as she was forced into the darkness that was now filling her home. Perhaps it was selfish, she knew it was selfish, but going to London was the only out she saw for herself. She’d found a job working as a personal assistant to the owner of a Jewish bakery and she’d gotten accepted into one of the colleges in the city.

Of course, she was accepted on the pretense she was a male but that was a bridge she would cross when she got there. She had been accepted based on her own merits and that is what mattered. Dottie had dreamed of this all her life, to go to school and to learn. To Travel. To show the world what women could be. To be self reliant. The flames of his desire were fanned by Tommy’s rejection of her, of his abrupt ending of their courtship with only a letter while fighting in France. Part of her understood that war changed men, her brother Danny came back a different man and David hadn’t come back at all.

Another part of her, a petty part of her, wanted to show Tommy that she didn’t need him, that she would be able to go on without him, and that there was nothing he could do for that she couldn’t accomplish herself . She had given so much for him and lost so much in return. A sigh passed through her lips, her eyes focusing on the pile of items on her nightstand. There were a few pictures, a locket, old tickets for the picture house, and a bundle of letters. The relics of what used to be and she didn’t know if she needed to take them with her. What was the point?

But if she left them, her father would surely be rid of them and she didn’t think she could live with that.

Before she could stop herself, she padded across the room and grabbed a shirt from her suitcase, wrapping the belongings in it and sat them next to a baby blanket and rattle. Memories of what could of been, memories of what she had lost. Memories she could let go and memories that fueled her even more.

Dottie Owens was not a quitter and she would not be driven to ruin because a boy couldn’t love her right.

Everything moved in a blur the rest of the morning, she couldn’t remember eating breakfast or packing her belongings and Edgar onto a cart to be taken to the train station. But she knew she did, it didn’t seem real that it was all finally happening. She looked around at the smoke billowing into the sky, the brick of the apartments. As much as it was suffocating, it was her home. She spent her life here, playing in the streets or reading on the steps. She worked at the only bookshop in the city, she walked these streets everyday and knew its people. The people in London would be different, it would be a new adventure that she was looking forward to but it all felt bittersweet.

Her eyes landed on him as he stood in his doorway, he was adjusting his cap and the morning sun reflected off the metal of the razor sewn into the brim. She rarely saw him in the weeks since he came home, he had ignored her when all the soldiers got off the train and after that she did her best to avoid him but now she took in the sight of Thomas Shelby because she didn’t know when she’d see him again. She had no intention of staying in London forever, of course, someone had to make sure that Mother was well taken care of and Danny was concerning her as his behavior became more and more erratic. But in those return trips home, she knew she would avoid seeing him again if she could.

It wasn’t long before striking blue eyes found her warm green ones. They looked at each other for a moment, the air becoming thick as if all their memories were filling the street and the history they shared washed over her. She would not cry, not here, she had already wasted too many tears on him. There was a small flicker of something in his eyes, something that resembled softness but it was flash before he became stone faced once more and turned away from her.

“Goodbye Tommy.”

Tommy’s fingers tapped against the table, tracing the butt of a cigarette against his lips. It would take a while to get used to this life again, but he would in time, his eyes stared at the chalkboard where they tracked their gambling bets. This had the capability to make them a lot of money, he knew, if only he played his cards right and looked for the right opportunity to strike. He barely noticed the sounds of his brothers and Aunt Polly entering the room with him, the sound of their voices drowned by his thoughts to a dull mumble.

It was only when Finn pushed through the door, breathing heavily and calling his name that he snapped from his thoughts.

“Tommy, Tommy. I saw her,” Finn was panting from how fast he had run, Tommy furrowed his eyebrows in concern as he kneeled in front of his youngest brother.

“What are you talking about, Finn?” Aunt Polly was the first one to speak.

“Dottie Owens. She got on a train with all her things, bound for London. She’s gonna go to one of those fancy schools in the city. That’s what her brother said.”

Tommy stood up, staring at his brother for a moment. A loud ringing filled his ears and the world around him faded away. He closed his eyes and quickly regained his composure. He wouldn’t show weakness in the moment. He couldn’t.

“She’s done good for herself getting out of this fucking shithole,” Tommy spoke, ruffling his brothers hair.

Polly watched him, he could feel her eyes on him and he knew she was waiting for a bigger reaction or for some sign of what he was feeling. His aunt had loved Dottie, had wanted her to join the family more than anything and he was grateful that Polly had been there for Dottie when she had needed it. He looked over at her, cocking an eyebrow. “I’m fine.”

“You fucking won’t be, mate,” John spoke, patting his brother shoulder.

The rest of the day passed without incident but that night, when there was no light in the window across the street, Tommy couldn’t contain his feelings of anger, of regret, of self loathing. When the morning light drifted through the windows, he had gotten no sleep. A hole in the wall and several broken pictures were the reminders of his feelings the night before but a new feeling crept into his chest.

“She fucking did it,” he mumbled softly, shaking his head. He had never had a doubt that she would accomplish whatever she set her mind too and there was no one he knew with a more brilliant mind or quicker wit. Of course she’d gotten into a college. “My girl fucking did it.”

And when Dottie got to London, she found an anonymous donor had paid for a years worth of tuition on her behalf.

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x original character #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic

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