#Peaky blinders hurt/comfort

[wonderlanddreamer]

Lean On Me.

[Tommy Shelby × Reader]

Summary - A cute little hurt/comfort one-shot based on this request. When you're hurt during an incident at the Garrison, it's Tommy who notices and takes care of you.

The Garrison was alive with the usual sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversation. It was a typical evening, and you moved behind the bar with ease, offering your gentle smile and kind eyes to each patron who approached. Your sweet demeanor had made you a favorite among the regulars, and your presence was often a calming influence in the boisterous atmosphere.

As you refilled a customer's drink, you noticed the door swing open with a force that made it bang against the wall, causing a few heads to turn sharply. A group of men entered, their loud voices and aggressive postures immediately altering the mood of the room. You recognized a few of them as troublemakers who had been thrown out before. A knot of anxiety formed in your stomach, but you continued your work, hoping they would leave without causing any trouble.

Unfortunately, it was not going to be one of those nights. The arguments started almost immediately, escalating quickly into shouts and threats. One of the men grabbed a patron by the collar, slamming him against the bar and causing his drink to spill everywhere. A furious brawl erupted, with fists flying and chairs being overturned. Glasses shattered as they were knocked off tables, and the sound of breaking wood filled the air as a table was flipped over.

You moved behind the bar, your heart pounding in your chest, trying to stay out of the fray. The scene was a blur of violent motion: a man was thrown to the ground, another's face was bloodied by a brutal punch, and someone else wielded a broken bottle like a weapon. The shouts and grunts of pain were deafening, and the air was thick with tension and fear.

Then, you heard the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. The noise cut through the chaos like a knife, silencing the room for a brief, heart-stopping moment. 

A searing pain shot through your side, causing you to gasp. You pressed a hand against the pain, feeling the warmth of blood seep through your fingers. Panic surged through you, but you bit down on your lip to stifle a cry. You couldn't afford to let anyone see you falter, not when the pub was in such disarray. You told yourself it was just a graze, nothing serious. You didn't need to cause a fuss.

The tension in the room was palpable when, suddenly, the door to the side room burst open. Tommy Shelby, flanked by his brothers John and Arthur, strode in with an air of authority that immediately commanded attention. Tommy’s sharp blue eyes scanned the chaos, missing nothing. In his hand, he held a revolver, its presence a chilling promise of violence. John, with a snarl on his lips, grabbed one of the troublemakers and threw him against the wall with a force that made the entire room shake. Arthur, always the most volatile, swung a chair with a roar, smashing it over another man's back. The Peaky Blinders moved with the precision and efficiency of a well-oiled machine, their brutal swiftness clearing out the troublemakers in a matter of moments.

Tommy fired a shot into the ceiling, the deafening crack silencing any remaining resistance. The troublemakers froze, their eyes wide with fear. "Out," Tommy growled, his voice low and deadly. "And if I see any of you in here again, you'll regret it." The men scrambled for the door, tripping over each other in their haste to escape.

The Garrison was left in shambles, but the immediate threat was gone. Tommy turned to survey the room, his gaze hard and calculating. He didn’t notice as you quickly tied a makeshift bandage around your waist, gritting your teeth against the pain, and continued your work.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as you cleaned up the broken glass and righted the overturned furniture. Your vision wavered, and a cold sweat broke out on your forehead. You pressed your hand to your side again, feeling the blood still seeping through the fabric of your makeshift bandage. Each movement was agony, but you forced yourself to keep going, telling yourself it would all be okay once your shift was over and you could go home. You swept the shattered remnants of glasses into a dustpan, the sound of the shards tinkling like a cruel reminder of the night's violence.

Eventually, you faltered faster than you could catch yourself, the room spinning around you as you fought to regain your balance. A strong hand caught your arm, steadying you. You looked up to see Tommy Shelby's piercing blue eyes staring at you, concern etched into his usually stoic features.

"What the hell happened to you?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous, the edge of authority unmistakable.

"I-It's nothing, Mr. Shelby," you stammered, trying to muster a reassuring smile but failing. "Just a scratch."

Tommy's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing you with a penetrating gaze. Before you could protest, he had pulled your hand away from your side, revealing the blood-soaked bandage. His expression darkened, a storm of anger and worry playing across his features.

"You're bleeding and you didn't think to say anything?" he growled, though there was a softness in his eyes that belied his harsh tone. "Come with me."

He led you to a side room of the Garrison, his grip firm but gentle, ensuring you didn't stumble. The room was small and dimly lit, filled with the scent of whiskey and old wood, a hidden sanctuary from the chaos outside. You winced as he helped you sit down, the pain now impossible to ignore.

Tommy worked quickly, his hands surprisingly deft as he removed your makeshift bandage and examined the wound. His fingers were steady, the touch surprisingly tender for someone known for his ruthlessness. 

"This is more than a scratch," Tommy muttered, his jaw tight with restrained anger. "God damn it, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. "I didn't want to be a bother."

Tommy's expression softened, his steely exterior cracking just enough to reveal a flicker of concern. He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You're lucky I pay attention."

He set to work with surprising tenderness, carefully cleaning the wound. The sting of the antiseptic made you flinch, but Tommy's steady presence was oddly comforting. His fingers traced the edges of the wound, ensuring it was free of debris before wrapping a proper bandage around your waist. Despite the sharp focus in his eyes, you could see the undercurrent of tension, the worry he tried to mask behind his composed demeanour.

The room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the dim light casting a warm glow over Tommy's concentrated face. His hands moved with practised ease, but the care in his touch spoke volumes. It was a side of him rarely seen, hidden beneath layers of calculated ruthlessness and unyielding authority.

"There," he said softly, his voice a low, soothing rumble. He met your gaze with those piercing blue eyes, now softened with concern. "You'll be alright. But next time, you come straight to me. Understood?"

You nodded, managing a weak smile. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby."

He tilted your chin up with a gentle hand, his thumb brushing away your tears. "Call me Tommy," he corrected, his voice tender. "And promise me, no more heroics, eh? Leave that to me."

"I promise, Tommy," you replied, your heart swelling with gratitude and something deeper, something you didn't dare to name. The pain in your side seemed to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest. 

Tommy helped you to your feet, his arm steady around your waist, providing support as you swayed slightly. Each step sent a jolt of pain through your body, but with his strong presence beside you, it felt a little more bearable. His grip was firm yet gentle, a silent promise of protection that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

As you walked back into the main room of the Garrison, the remnants of the earlier brawl were still visible. Broken glass glinted on the floor, and overturned chairs lay scattered about. The other Peaky Blinders were busy restoring order, their expressions a mix of annoyance and grim determination. 

Tommy guided you to a quieter corner, easing you into a chair before resting against the table beside you. He reached for a glass of water, handing it to you with a gentleness that seemed almost out of character for the hardened leader of the Peaky Blinders.

"Drink this," he instructed, his voice softer now, the rough edges smoothed out by genuine concern. "It'll help."

You took the glass, your hands trembling slightly as you sipped the cool water. The liquid soothed your parched throat, and you felt a bit of strength return to your limbs. 

"Why didn't you say anything when it happened?" Tommy asked after a moment, genuine curiosity and concern lacing his words. He leaned in slightly, eyes searching yours for an answer, his brow furrowed with worry.

You looked down at your hands, the glass of water clutched between them. "I didn't want to cause more trouble," you admitted quietly. "I thought it was just a graze, and everyone already had so much to deal with."

Tommy's expression softened, his stern demeanor giving way to something more vulnerable. He sighed, shaking his head gently. "You're anything but trouble, sweetheart," he told you, his tone firm yet kind.

Your eyes widened at his words, your heart skipping a beat. You searched his face, looking for any sign that he was merely being kind, but all you saw was sincerity. 

"Thank you, Tommy," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. The words felt inadequate, but they were all you could manage in the moment.

He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, not from fear but from a profound sense of connection. "Don’t scare me like that again, alright?" he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that intimate moment. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't realized you craved. Tommy's touch was tender, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek. You leaned into his hand, finding solace in the simple, yet profound gesture.

"Rest here for a bit," he said after a moment, his hand reluctantly pulling away, though his eyes remained fixed on yours. "I'll have someone take you home when you're ready."

He stood up, but not before softly tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than necessary. His presence was a shield, a promise that he would protect you no matter what. 

[writers-hes]

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps)

A/N: This is dedicated to @runnning-outof-time ! Thank you for giving me guidelines and for reading my work before anybody else did. You’re amazing and I wish I could write Tommy as good as you do. 

Want to be tagged?   navigation | main master lists | PROTECTION MASTERLIST

BIRMINGHAM, 1900:

Tommy first met her when his father took him to the docks. Arthur Shelby Sr. told impressionable young Tommy that there were kids he could play with by the docks. Tommy agreed, wanting to impress his father. On the way there, right outside of what looked like a house with many rooms, was her.

You were lonely and something in Tommy told him to play with you instead. Besides, the boys were too big around the docks. Arthur Shelby left him right outside the establishment and threw a shilling to you. You picked it up, stuffed it in your pocket, and looked at him.

He smiled at you widely, a tooth missing from his mouth and extended his hand towards you.

“I’m Tommy,” he said. You reciprocate the gesture, telling him your name and shaking his hand. You were more reserved, Tommy noticed. He was so used to the ruckus in their house that he expected every child to be as energetic as them. “Why did my father give you money?”

“He wants me to play with you while he’s inside,” you said. “I don’t have many toys but…I do have this,” you said, showing him your wooden horse toy. They were your prized possession, one of the few gifts that your father sent when he promised the world to your mother.

“Oh! I love horses,” he said. “Do you? I like watching horses,”

“Yes,” you replied. “My mother said that my father owned many. I’ve never met him though. Where do you watch horses?”

“That’s alright. Fathers hit kids. See?” he said, showing you a bruise on his side quickly. “My mother puts ice on it and it tickles. We watch it in the races. My mum takes me for my birthdays. She usednto ride a white horse before. She told me. Do you go to school?”

“No,” you shook your head. “But my mum taught me how to read and how to write. Sometimes, Big Johnny teaches me arithmetic. One plus one equals two,”

“You’re smart. Who’s Big Johnny?”

You hummed, making the wooden horse gallop on the murky ground. People in the house all told you that you were. If only poor Mary Magdalene had the means to send you to school. If only. You stop your movements and move your toy towards Tommy.

“Here,” you said. “Big Johnny is the man who runs this place. He’s kind,”

“You won’t have a toy,” he replied.

“It’s okay. I have more but they’re in my mama’s room. My father sent them. Sorry if it’s dirty,”

“Thanks,” he said. It’s the first time anyone has ever given him something without asking for it. He keeps it with him; keeps the memory of a girl who watched him intently while he played with a toy horse. That’s why when his father exited the house, with less money in his pocket, Tommy asked if he could come again next time.

-

When the house closed, you ran to your mother’s room. You usually had to stay out until five in the morning, sleeping on the sacks right in front of the brothel until your mother woke you up. She’s been seeing less men these days…always cooped up in her room, asking for you. She didn’t mind if you stained her bed with sweat and grease. She’d ask how your day was and you told him about Tommy, the boy you met earlier.

“I’m glad you have a friend,” she coughed into her white handkerchief. The blood stain was normal now. You were worried at first, but your mother told you to never tell anyone. You just never knew how serious it all was when you slipped once. You were talking to Big Johnny; he was teaching you how to subtract.

“If I help you, are you going to pay me?” you asked, perched on his lap. He had been the only father figure in your life. He’d help your mum surprise you for your birthdays and give you some money every now and then.

“Pay you? You’re robbing me,” he kids. “What do you need the money for?”

“I’m planning to buy mum a present. A nice handkerchief,” you said. “The one she has has blood—“

“What is it, bug?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, smiling sickly sweet.

“You have to tell me,” he replied. “It’s your—your safety,”

It was your turn to look confused.

“But mum told me to never tell anyone,” you whispered, heart racing. What did he mean by it? “Why would I not be safe? I’m safe. I have mum with me,”

Big Johnny ran his hand through his hair, then his chin. You knew that it was a sign of his agitation, so you relented.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you whispered. “But mum has been coughing up blood for a while. She said it’s fine. You won’t take her from me right, Johnny?”

“Fuck, kid,” he sighed, stressed at the sudden turn out of events. “No more arithmetic today, okay? I’ll go talk to your mum. Just go outside or play or whatever,”

“Is everything okay?” you asked, panic rising in your throat. It constricts while you keep yourself from crying.  “Mum will be so mad at me! Please don’t tell on me,”

“Do you know why she’s coughing up blood?” he asked, his voice serious. He knew that you had to be talked to in his “adult voice” for you to listen. You knew that he needed to be stern for you to listen.

“N-no…” your hair falls messily as you shake your head, picking on your nail beds.

“She’s sick, bug,” he said. “If we don’t do anything about it, you could get sick too. The two of you might die,” he explained. “Look, kid…you have a bright future ahead of you, alright?”

“What will you do?” you asked. “You can’t take her from me! Please, Johnny. My mum is all I have,” you cried, tears started flowing once the first one dropped.

Johnny couldn’t do anything else. He relented but locked your mother in her room. Whenever you went in, he made sure you had some face mask on to protect yourself. You only saw her for a few minutes every day. Parting her was painful and Johnny had to console you while you cried. He gave up his bunk and slept in his workspace so you won’t have to sleep with your mum.

A week later, your mum died of lung cancer.

It was too late, the doctor explained. Johnny let you stay in his bunk, never mind the fact that he had no space for himself now. He didn’t mind. You were his top priority. How is he going to raise a child in a brothel?

-

Your mother always told you that as long as you were with her, you would never be lonely. There was no burial, just her body being thrown and burned with the rest of Birmingham’s garbage. It made you wonder what your body would be like dead. You decided to never end up like her, one way or another you were getting out.

Tommy continued to visit you, but he knew that you were different now. It has only been a week and you’ve grown up so fast. When he arrived, a box of your toy horses was prepared for him.

“What’s this for?” he asked, eyes brightening up at the sight of the box. His father threw a shilling your way again.

“It’s for you. I don’t want to play anymore,” you said. “I kept one white horse for me but you can have them.”

“Why not?” he asked, galloping the toy you gave him last week. “Thank you. I don’t have my own. I always have to share with Arthur, John and Ada.”

“My mom died…you were my first friend and you never met her,” you said, tears falling on the ground. “I’ve been living in Big Johnny’s room,”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said. “My Aunt Pol says that friends are there for each other. I’m…I’m your friend,”

You smiled a teary smile, appreciating the underlying message behind his words. He’ll be there for you. But until when?

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1905

Fifteen, you were fifteen. You haven’t even turned fifteen for a week and you were working. The owner of the house told Big Johnny that if you wanted to keep living there, you would have to work too. Johnny had no place for himself, no house—his money all went to you. Your clothes, the books you’ve read, the food you ate. He'll get you a cake with a candle along with a pound for special occasions. If you were lucky, some of the girls would give you something. Tommy’s dad stopped coming and so was the shilling you got.

He stayed, though. He’d talk to you about school and how he wanted to leave.

“You’re lucky you’re in school,” you said, watching Tommy smoke a cigarette. You were never a fan if them, seeing as your mother died of fucking lung cancer. “You have to stay,”

“I’m not built for it though. They’re all so boring,” he said, blowing the smoke away. “If only I could work like you. Why are you dressed so nicely anyway?”

“The owner told me to work,” you shrugged, pulling the strap of your dress back on your shoulder. “Johnny asked the boss if I could help him with the girls and management, but he said no. Wanted me to work because it will bring more money in,” you bitterly replied. “I want to go to school but the fucking boss wanted me to present myself as a Cherry Girl. You wanna know what that is?”

“What?”

“A fucking virgin.” you shrugged. “Said many men will pay for someone like me. Today’s my first night and Johnny cried a little bit when he saw me. I’d kill and die to go to school, Tom.”

“Shit, love, I’m sorry. I was being insensitive,” he offered. “Hm, maybe you’ll bag one rich man you know? Some rich bloke from London and he’ll take you. Besides, at least you smell nice,”

“This shit is awful,” you countered, sighing. You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “Fuck, I said I wasn’t going to cry tonight.”

“Hey,” he said, sitting closer to you. He wraps your arm around you and lets you stay there. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’ll stay in school and do well, okay? I’ll study so hard; I’ll take you out of here. Let you live in a mansion with lots of space to run in. Fuck, I’m sorry, love,”

“It’s not your fault, Tommy,” was your weak reply. “I’m just…I told myself that I would never be like my mother and now, I am,”

“You’re not her,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you.m, never mind if the grease and sweat of his clothes mixed with your perfume. “You’re not her.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1906

“Fuck, Tom. You can’t stay here while I’m working,” you scolded. You were lying, you appreciated the fact that Tommy was here. He’ll wait until you finish your shift, until you meet your quota. It was always quick, though. You had a rich patron that covered your every living expense.

“My patron’s coming,” you told him, and he tenses. He remembered the way you cried to him after your first ever shift last year. How some old fuck didn’t even bother. He finished and threw you some coins. He remembered his rage when you told him about this new guy. He’s quite scary but he pays the most, you said. “He doesn’t like seeing me with other men,”

“I’m a man now?” he quips, a smirk on his lips. “It’s not like I can afford it. I’m broke. Besides, I’ll act like a bodyguard, yeah? All I ask for payment is a day out with you. Aunt Poll is cooking something on Sunday. Want you to eat something that’s not whatever is being cooked here. We can go on a picnic. I met a girl who worked at this mansion, and they have lots of flowers in the garden. Shit you’ll like,”

You offered him a slight smile, nodding.

“Will your aunt be okay with…me eating your food?” you asked. Tommy took notice of how insecurity laced your voice. His suggestions of meeting his family have always been met with resistance. He understood. Although Polly has been insisting on meeting the girl he’s been spending his time with, he couldn’t risk his father recognising you and then, treating you like trash.

“Of course. She’s been more annoying. Told my mum about the girl I’m seeing,” he said. “I’ll be the first boy to take you out, hm?”

“Shut up,” was your only reply.

Sunday comes and you asked your boss for a day off.

That day, Tommy took you to the garden with Polly’s chicken stew and his mum’s fig cake. Tommy didn’t let you work, he set down the food and opened the containers.

“The best meal you’ll ever have,” he said while you sat. “I should’ve done this earlier. What have you been eating?”

“I’m lucky enough to be fed. Johnny gets me some food out of the brothel sometimes.” you said. “Thanks for taking me here. I love it.”

“I knew it,” he said, spooning out your portion and giving it to you.

“I want to have a house with lots of flowers. Different coloured blooms all year round.” you said.

“The caretaker of the garden says that we can pick some flowers. Do you want to take some home?” he asked. You nodded, a flush on your face. How could someone not love him?

BIRMINGHAM, 1908

“How have you been my angel?” he asked, twirling your hair in between your fingers. “Can’t believe I missed you last week,” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder. You giggled. “I was in London and all I could think of was you,”

“I’ve never been to London,” you told him. “Are you going to take me there?” you asked, wide-eyed. He’s been your patron since you reached 18. He was quite younger than your usual customers. He always came to visit when you were seventeen but never looked at you. As if that made it better.

“You haven’t?” he asked. “I’ll take you there, Angel. I’ll show you the whole world. Hm?”

“You will?” you asked, faux excitement in your voice. He loved this; you knew. He loved that you were a fragile little bird in need of saving. He loved that you’d listen to him talk about his father. He’s the sappy kind. He liked to hold hands, talk, and make love. He’s paid you more than anyone else and gave you a hefty allowance. Big Johnny didn’t have to think about your safety anymore. “I want to go to the city! Buy everything that I see and just…breathe a different air,” you said.

“Fuck, baby, I’ll take you there and buy you everything you ever lay your eyes on. I’m not fucking around. I’ll take you there,”

“You will?” you asked. “I don’t like the idea of you leaving me. Did you know that? Sometimes, when you leave, I have to lock myself in my room and refuse everyone,” you lied. You locked yourself in because your quota was already met. You were just saying these things to keep him coming back. A little bit of pretending never hurt you. It meant a bigger tip, more money.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Of course,” you said. “You’re my hero…”

Somehow, you didn’t find yourself lying when you told him. You felt dirty, you felt like your mother when she thought your father would give her the world. But Simon paid big money to have you alone for multiple nights a week.  No other customers were to ask for services.

“I’m your hero, alright…you’re my little bird. I’m dead set on taking you with me to London. Once I get my inheritance, I’ll show you the world and get you out of these slums.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1909

“You don’t have to do this anymore,” Tommy said. You were well enough to have your own place somewhere near the docks now. Johnny had given you some furniture that the house wasn’t using anymore, helping you fix the tables and the chairs that you would be using.  You didn’t have to live at the brothel anymore and it was all thanks to Simon.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tommy,” you chuckled. “Do you like my place?” Tommy looked around, flowerpots littered your house.

“I’m serious.” he asked. “I’ll have you safe in Small Heath,”

“And my job? What will pay for this place? I finally have enough space for my flowers.” you asked. “I can’t just leave. Come on, you have to see the view on my balcony.”

You dragged Tommy’s hand to the balcony to show him the view. You were a little far from the docks now but from your balcony you can see it. The blue water, the usual chaos…you were smiling so freely, so beautifully. Tommy stills, unspoken words lingering in the air. You could realise it too…you’ve been realising it slowly. The world was in your hands. You could seize it if you wanted it. It fills Tommy with determination. It pumps through his veins, and it rings in his ears. Determination, consistency, and power. Three things to play with the world…three things that he’ll have. He could get you a bigger house. If he played right, he could have it all.

“This is why I got this place,” you said. “I mean, there were others but the view of the docks…I used to think everything about it was so ugly, you know? So grey, so evil…so grotesque but from the vantage point, everything is different,” a soft smile played on your lips when you let go of Tommy’s hand. He already missed your touch. “I can’t leave my job now because I wouldn’t have this,”

“I’ll work for it,” he says proudly.

“Tom, I know you’re not happy with how I earn money. Fuck, I’m not happy too. I hate that job. I know you hate it when I turn down your offer. But I have nothing else. You have to support your siblings. Don’t you get it? We’re all whores, Tom. We just sell different parts of ourselves. Mine just so happens to be my body.”

It enrages him and you could see it. See his face fall apart, how his jaw ticked.

“I’ll do it.” he said. “I’ll fucking do it. You think I’m fucking around when I tell you that I’ll protect you? I will. I’ll make a name for myself and protect you. I’ll fucking protect you; I swear on my life.”

“I know you will, Tom,” you said, inching closer. “But can’t you just be happy for me? This once?”

“We could add a little chair right here,” he relented. How could he ever tell you how much he hated himself for not being enough right now?  “I’ll bring some of Polly’s flowers. You’d let me stay here?”

“Only if you’re being nice,”

“What if I’m too tired to make the trip back to Small Heath? Can I stay here?” he asked.

“Sure,” you shrugged. “But only if you have food for me or something,”

“Or something? You’re not letting me stay for free? I’m your best mate,” he chuckled. “I mooch off you all the time,”

“You have more than I do. It’s time for me to mooch off on you,”

“Yeah? Well, I want yours,” he said. “I’m glad though…that you don’t have to live there anymore. You’re safer here,”

“Thank you, Tom,” you smiled, sitting by the railing of your balcony. “I’m glad too.”

“I’ll make sure you’re protected,” he promises.

“How?”

“I’ll protect you.”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1910

Tommy gave you the number of his telephone years ago. You were shaking, something bad had happened and you didn’t know who else to turn to. Big Johnny was too busy breaking up fights in the bar beside the brothel. You walked home shakily. Tommy called the brothel earlier to tell you that he couldn’t make it tonight because of some gang business. It was fine, of course. So, you went to the market to buy some supplies. You just didn’t know that he would be there.  

You were waiting for someone to pick up the phone, biting your perfectly manicured nails.

“Who’s calling?” a woman asked from the other line. Her tone was snippy, and you knew she meant business.

“Hi,” you cleared your throat. “I’m looking for Tommy Shelby?”

“Who is this?” she asked, confused as to why a woman would suddenly call Tommy in such a manner. She was used to Tommy’s girls calling, an embarrassment usually hinted when they spoke. But this new girl had no shame.

“I’m a friend of Tommy’s,”

“Tommy has many girlfriends. You’re going to have to be specific,” she said, intrigued.

“Oh, of course,” you said. You told her your name. “Is he there?”

“Tommy!” you could hear her voice call. “Some girl is on the phone for you!”

“What, Poll?” he asked, scowling.

“Pick up the phone, Tom. Your friend is asking for you,” she said, passing the phone to him. She didn’t leave the room immediately, sitting on the nearby chair instead to listen in.

“Tommy Shelby,” he says, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

“Tommy,” you whispered. “He was there…he was there.”

“Who, love?” Tommy asked. Polly noticed how his voice softened, how his stance relaxed. “Do you need me there?”

“He was one of my customers before,” you forced out. “He was always…rude and rough,” you choked. “I hate this fucking job, Tommy. I fucking hate it and he treated me like an object today just because he paid for my services years ago,” you sobbed. “I’m sorry. I know you were busy but I fucking hate it,”

“Shh…it’s okay, love. It’s okay. I’m going over there, and you could tell me,” he said. “Will that be alright?”

“I—yes,” you nodded, wiping your tears hastily. “I got some of your favourite fruit from the market today. Didn’t know you have an expensive taste,”

He chuckled softly.

“I’ll see you, alright?” he asked. “Keep the doors locked. I have my copy,”

“Okay, Tommy. Stay safe for me?” you asked.

“Of course.” Tommy put down the phone until he heard you end the line. He sighed and went to go get his coat until he saw Polly with an eyebrow raised. “Fuck, I didn’t see you there,”

“Who would? You were too lovestruck to notice anything,” she teased. “That’s the girl you’ve been seeing?”

“We’re friends, Pol,” he clarified.

“She’s the girl from the docks, then?” she asked. Tommy nodded. “Fuck, that’s rough. She’s a whore,”

“Don’t,” he said, an edge to his voice. “Don’t call her that. I’m trying to build something for all of us, Pol. For her. She hates her job…she fucking hates it and I can’t do anything about it,”

“You don’t have to save her, Tom. You can’t save everyone,” she said but she knew that Tommy was stubborn. Everything that she’ll say will fall on deaf ears.

“It’s all her,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll get her out of there if it’s the last thing I do.”

The walk to your place was unnerving. Thoughts swarmed in his head. If he only had it in him to murder the man who dared to look at you. He’s never made peace with how you earned your money, but he still happily showed up after every shift. You never talk about your customers, and he didn’t like to ask.

“Tommy, you’re here,” you greeted. He could see how swollen your eyes were; how red they were.

“Of course, I am,” he replied. “Are you okay?” He hangs his coat on the coat rack and walks towards the couch where you were seated.

“I am now,” you sniffed. “I’m sorry for making you worry but this job…people reduce me to such an object. I didn’t even know his name, you know?”

“I know, love.” he said, his heart beating inside his chest. What was it? What was the beating?

“Tommy, I’m going to make a request. It’s absurd and we haven’t done it yet…”

“What?” he whispered, unsure.

“Can-can you hold me?” you asked. “You don’t have to but…I have no semblance of what it’s like to be loved anymore. I want to pretend. At least for tonight, somebody out there loves me.”

“You don’t have to pretend,” he said. “You’re my friend. Of course, I love you.”

You only smiled, snuggling closer to Tommy. You were his friend…only a friend. How else would he look at you differently? You still had to pretend because the love that he was willing to give was not the love that you were looking for.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

Multiple knocks on your door woke you up. Someone was screaming your name outside and you felt yourself panic. You took the gun that Tommy gifted you last year and crept down the stairs. You opened the door slowly to reveal two men—one older and one younger. The younger one had a smirk playing on his lips while the other looked panicked.

“Who are you?” you asked, tightening the gun behind your back.

“Arthur Shelby,” the one with the beard replied. You nodded. “I’m Tommy’s older brother. This is John,”

“Where…where’s Tommy?”

“He asked us to come get you,” John replied. “We mean no harm.”

“What happened to him?” you asked. “Come in,”

The brothers entered your house and watched you lay your gun on the table. An unspoken threat.

“Tommy’s not in a good place,” Arthur replied. “Well, he’s asking for you. He’s having these…episodes. I don’t fucking know what thr fuck they’re called but sometimes, he calls for you when he shuts down,”

“It's even worse today,” John added. “Our mother died,”

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry,” you said, offering a small smile. “Will you let me dress better? I’ll come with you,”

You met the brothers outside of your house, your gun secured on your skirt.

“Are you Tommy’s whore?” John asked as you walked.

“John!”

“I’m not his fucking whore,”

“So, why is he always at the brothel by the docks?” he pressed.

“We met when we were kids. Your dad used to visit the brothel with him,” you shrugged. “I never understood why your father took him there all the time. It’s a dangerous place,”

“Why were you there?”

“My mother worked there. I was born there. I grew up there,” you shrugged. “Tommy was my only friend growing up. Your father stopped coming but Tommy still managed to show up,”

“I see,” Arthur replied. “You’re the girl who gave him toy horses when we were kids, then. He never let us touch them. Even now, he has them lined up on his wall,”

“Yeah, I was. I gave it to him a week after my mother died,” you recalled.

“I’m sorry for calling you his whore,” John said. He realised now that your relationship with Tommy was deeper. It was more meaningful than he realised.

“It’s okay,” you let out a small smile. “It’s a fair assumption,”

Minutes of silence passed by, and your group stopped in Watery Lane. You’ve never been in his house before; you never had the time to do so. You were also quite ashamed to show yourself. How could you prove that you weren’t after Tommy’s money if that's exactly what you are after men?

The door of the house opens, and you assume it was Polly. The same woman who you talked to on the telephone before.

“He’s in his room upstairs. Last door to the left,” she said.

“Thank you,” you rushed to where Tommy was. You didn’t bother to stay and eavesdrop. You were there for Tommy. You knocked on his door slightly.

“Stay the fuck away from my door or I will kill you,” he shouted. You cracked the door open slightly.

“It’s me, Tom,” you said. He rose from his bed and rushed towards you, flinging his arms around you. He pulled you closer. “Hi,”

“She’s dead,” he murmurs against your hair. “My mum’s dead. My dad left. I didn’t even like him, you know? He always hit the three of us. I thought it would be better if he just fucking left but my mum died because he left. Now, I don’t have her.”

“I’m so sorry, Tommy,” you said. You knew he was still struggling after his father left many months ago. He was shaking in your arms, trying to grasp you tightly. Trying to be closer.  “I’m so sorry,”

“I…I don’t know what to do,” he said. “You never got to meet her. She’d love you; you know?”

“That makes us even,” you saw a small smile on his lips. “I’m here now, Tom. You could rest,”

“You’ll still be here when I wake up?” he asked meekly, like a child.

“I’ll be here,” you nod, caressing his cheek softly. He nods, yawning after he evened out his breathing.

“Shit, love. I’m so tired,” he yawned again. “Let’s both go to sleep. We deserve it. I’ll see you when I’m awake?” he asked, adjusting your position on his small bed.

“I’ll see you,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him.

-

“Tommy’s playing a dangerous game,” Polly commented from downstairs. It has been met with no resistance.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1914

“Good afternoon, Pol,” you smiled. You were invited for Sunday dinner, and you decided to bring cake from the bakery that Tommy liked. You’ve only met them last year, but you’ve become such an integral part of their family that people knew you were closely associated with them. Even Simon.

“Oh, you didn’t have to bring cake,” she said. “We’d rather you spend it somewhere,”

“It’s alright,” you said. “I wanted to do something nice,”

“Keeping Tommy levelheaded is nice enough. Seriously, what did you do?” Ada asked, chopping the vegetables. She was reluctant at first but now, she couldn’t go a week without ranting to you. Girls’ night is what she called them.

“I don’t know,” you chuckled. “May I help?”

“If you could kindly chop the carrots, please,” Polly said. You set yourself and rolled your sleeves, peeling the carrots first. “Tommy and the boys went out for a while. They said it was some business with the Blinders. While they’re out, how are you?”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Me?”

“Of course. Ada has been talking my ear off about some guy she’s so secretive about,” she scoffed.

“I’ve been working less,” you confessed. “I’m helping out on the counter. Helping Big Johnny with the money and the accounts. I work a few times a week now. Simon’s been frequenting the brothel and well, you know what Simon does. It helps that he doesn’t stay long. The brothel pays me for my assistance. I can buy you cake every week now,”

“Don’t do that. Finn will be spoiled rotten,” Ada says. “Besides, you deserve nice things for yourself, you know,”

“I know but I can’t help it,” you said with a soft smile. “I like doing nice things for you,”

The boys soon come through the door, spilling with laughter. Tommy makes a beeline towards you as soon as he spots you.

“How was the afternoon?” you asked, bumping your hips with him.

“It was good,” he said. “Finn got into a fight with some kids, and we had to deal with it.”

“Is Finn okay? I brought cake.”

“Just a bruised ego,” he chuckled. My favourite?”

“Of course,” you said. “But let’s pretend that it’s for Finn, alright?”

“It’s always for Finn,” he groans. “He has you wrapped around his finger,”

“He does. He’s such a charming kid,” you praised. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Taking a bath before dinner. You have me for now,” Tommy said. “Can I sleep at your house later?” he asks in a softer tone. He’s been sleeping at your place ever since last year. He said you make him sleep better.

“You know it’s never a problem,” you said. His presence made you feel safe. He made you feel secure. “Will we leave together?”

“Yes. I’d like to sleep as soon as possible,” he says, dropping his forhead on your shoulder. You only chuckled. “I’m so tired. So, so tired,”

“Who are they fooling?” Ada asked in whispers. “Are we sure they’re best mates?”

“They’ve insisted on it for years,” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t think they’re aware,”

“I don’t think so either,” John says. “But Tommy throws a fit whenever she has to meet that Simon prick. Calls him a rich bastard.”

“He is a rich bastard,” Ada nodded. “She says he just came into his inheritance. Ammunitions,”

“Shit. She hit the jackpot, then,” John commented. “Wonder how that’s gonna go?”

“There’s nothing to wonder, John,” Arthur says. John could only nod his head.

-

You stumbled inside your house around half past midnight. You were both quite tipsy, having drank Pol’s stocks of wine. The Shelby Company Ltd. has been gaining more popularity now, along with the Blinders. Hell, Tommy even posted two Blinders to guard you. “For when I’m not around,” he said.

“Pol’s going to kill me for giving Finn too much cake,” you giggled, leaning on him.

“I reckon you’re banned from Sunday dinners,” Tommy jokes, taking his shoes off. He takes note of how you’re dressed today. “You know you can remove all the fucking things on your body right? Rouge…the jewels. Where’d you get them? Is the rich bastard buttering you up?”

“I like it. Dressing up makes me happy,” you frowned. “I’m allowed to like nice things, right?”

“Right,” his jaw ticked. It should be him who's giving you these gifts…showing you a lavish life. He hated it. “Later?”

“Later,” you nodded. “When I’m banned from Sunday dinners, you wouldn’t let me be left out, right?”

“‘Course not,” he shrugged, pulling you to your bedroom like he owned the place. You didn’t mind. You were happy to see that he was comfortable in your home. “You’re my best girl.”

“That’s what you say to your horses,”

“You’ve got really good horse sense and you’re always on your high horse,” he says, peeling his coat away. He was rummaging in your chest now, looking for clothes he might have left until he settled on a simple white shirt and pyjama pants.

“Yeah, yeah. You and your horse wordplay.” You entered the bathroom to dress down. Just like Tommy, you settled in his shirt and pants. They were more comfortable than singlets and you certainly didn’t want to make Tommy uncomfortable.

He was already waiting for you on the bed when you came back. He pats the space beside him. You obliged. You were looking into each other’s eyes with small smiles, Tommy’s finger trailing down your arm absentmindedly.

“I…” words died in his throat before he could get them out. “I…”

“What is it, Tom? Are you okay?”

“I’ll get you out of here,” he rasps. “I’ll get you out of there and I won’t let you work a day in your life anymore.”

“Tommy,” you sighed. “I can’t—can’t leave this job. It’s all I have,” He tightens his arms around you, afraid that you’ll ask him to let go.

“I know but once I come back from the war—“

“The war?” you asked, removing his arms around you. “War?”

“We enlisted,” he clarifies, trying to gauge your reaction. “Once I come back, I’ll be so fucking rich. I’ll have you. I’ll keep you and you won’t have to lift a finger. We’ll live in a mansion and have servants. Just like what we used to talk about,”

“Tommy, you’re going to war?” you asked, standing from the bed. His eyes watched you settle down shakily on the single chair by the bed. “Fuck. You’re going to war. You’re going to leave me,”

“No, love. Come on, I—“ he grunts, sitting up from his relaxed position.

“It’s war, Tommy! They change people…I don’t want to lose you; do you not get that? Are you not happy here? Is that why you're throwing your life away?”

“I’m not throwing my life away,” he says, a frown. “We’ll be drafted one way or another because we’re poor. Might as well do it now than be forced. Some of my men will still watch over you every now and then. They’ll still make sure that you’re safe. We’ll send letters. Alright?”

“Letters,” you scoffed. “And what if the letters stopped coming?”

“Don’t say that, please,” he begs. “I’m doing this for all of us. The business will be handled by Polly and when I’m back, I’ll make it even bigger. Alright? You have to trust me,” You didn’t even want to ask about the business. You didn’t want to ask why more men wore peaky caps. You didn’t want to ask what the Shelby Company Ltd. really was. Not now.

“I know you will, Tom,” you said. “But I’m scared. For the first time since I’ve known you, you won’t be here. I’m scared,”

Tommy lays his hand on your shoulder. Words he couldn’t say lingered in the air. I’ll marry you once I step foot in England. He didn’t know what else to say; didn’t know if there was still something to say. So, he kneels before you and makes you look at him. You were crying. So afraid, so alone.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

“When will you be leaving?”

“I have two more days,” he says. “Will I still see you?”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “You’ll come back for me?”

“Of course. I have a picture of you already in my pocket. I have to make sure to come back to you,” he said. “and everyone else, of course.”

He fishes a necklace from his pocket, his mother’s locket.

“Here,” he said, showing it to you. It was one of the last pieces of jewellery she owned. “Mum gave it to me. You know I’ve always worn it. I want you to wear it now. Think of it as a loan, yeah? You’ll give it back once we see each other again,”

“Tommy, I—“

“I want you to accept it. I want you to see you wear it now. I want to see you wear it before I leave. But most of all I want for us to stay the same,” he says, holding you and kissing your hair softly. You couldn’t push him away. You’ve longed for this your whole life. To be held, to feel loved. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“I’m sorry. So, so, so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t think you’re wasting your life away,” you cleared your throat. “I’m so—I’m so proud of you and your bravery. I’m so proud of you but I can’t be fucking happy for you. I don’t want to wake up every day knowing that you’re not here. I don’t want to have to guess if you were alive or not.”

“I am,” he promises. “I’ll be alive. I’ll come back as your Tommy. Just…wait for me, alright?”

You clung onto Tommy two days later by the train. He whispered that he would come back. He said that he will make sure of it. He breathes in the smell of your hair—roses. He envelopes you in his arms once more and turns to leave, never looking back. You knew, in your hysterics, that if he comes back from the war, the same old Tommy you used to know would never be.

PART 2 PART 3

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​

[pacifymebby]

Afraid of Everyone / Alfie Solomons

Hurt/comfort tw kinda violence against women/misogyny, mostly just soft protective Alfie. Based on that PTSD episode I had a few weeks ago.

You looked petrified. That was the only way he could describe you and the look you'd unintentionally shot in his direction. Even from across the crowded bar he could tell that you were trembling. That you'd done your best to be stubborn and brave in the face of the cunt who'd just gotten a little nasty with you at the bar because you'd rejected his advances, but that now the moment of conflict had passed you were frozen to the spot, scared that any sudden movement would see you spiral and burst into tears.

He hadn't ever really seen you like this before. You were always the suffer in silence, the indignant, stubborn and self defensive type. But he recognised the look in your eyes from the faces of other women he'd known. That teetering on the edge of tears look. The thin line of your lips pressed together, tight and unsmiling. The stubborn stare, the determination not to cry giving your upset and terror away. A real tragedy because you were doing so well to stand your ground and had you not inadvertently shot him that "help me" look just then you'd have had everyone in the room fooled.

But you couldn't fool him and he knew exactly what you needed in that moment when the dread was squeezing your chest too tightly. When your legs and hands were shaking. When you were struggling to breath steady. You needed him, your Alfie to come sweeping in. To steal you away from that overcrowded, shit hole he didn't even understand why you'd come to anyway. Pretty little sweetheart such as yourself, trying to stand her ground in the arse end of London Town.

He'd made his mind up about cutting in before he saw one of those lary fuckers raise his hand to you, before he heard the vile thing he said to you too. But when the half cut man staggered forward into you and spat his scorned vitriol in your face Alfie couldn't stop himself.

"Alright then..." he announced his presence with his hands on your shoulders, the warmth of his body behind yours sending a little quiver of relief through you. The sound of his voice giving you the strength to remain standing tall in the face of the cunt who stood leering at you across the table. "Alright then my little cherub you gonna introduce me to your new friends? They don't look very friendly mind you, nah... Specially not this cunt... Nah ziskeit, this cunt in particular looks like a right miserable... Well..." he flexed his tone, taking one hand from your shoulder to caress your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

"Well... He looks like a cunt don't he..."

The cool metal of his rings soothed the blush burning your skin and when his fingers lingered near your mouth you understood exactly what he was doing.

Saving you.

Promising to take you home and take care of you just as soon as he'd scared these poor bastards out of town.

"Now then," started Alfie, his eyes narrowing as he looked between the two men who had stood so proudly only moments before but who were already cowering away under Alfie's cruel glare. They'd certainly sobered up in the seconds it had taken him to cut between you. Pick them out. Get their measure. "Now then boys... Got a little favour to ask you haven't I eh my sweets.. got a teensy tiny little favour to ask you right?" he said stroking his hand down your arm, his tender little acts uncanny when compared to the tone in which he spoke.

His fingers found yours and entwined with them for a moment, locking and then unlocking, dancing lightly over your palm as he carried on drawing out his threats.

"Y'see boys," he said, "I'm gettin on a bit now me and well my hearin' just ain't what it used to be yeah... And I miss things sometimes right...things I'd quite like to hear... And just now yeah, when you were talking to my lovely, frankly 'too pure to share the same fuckin breathin space as you' girl yeah, well I was all the way over there right..." He said eyes going wide as he gestured with his hand to the other side of the room, walking his fingers through the air just before you so that neither you nor the men in question could take their eyes of his menacing hand. "See it's quite far ain't it that... Quite far away wouldn't you agree?"

You watched the two men nodding, saw how they tried to hide their shaking. Saw how they tried to inch away. They must have known they couldn't really run. Must have known they were trapped and at Alfies mercy.

So now they knew exactly how they'd made you feel. As Alfie opened his long coat and subtly wrapped it around your shoulder, letting you press yourself against his chest, letting you hide behind the thick black material and quiver into his side, you couldn't help but smile at that; the knowledge that those two men were feeling small. Just as small as they had made you feel only moments before.

"So yeah, this favour what I want you two boys to do for me, Alfie Solomons the king of Camden fuckin Town, therefore by extension the king of this here fuckin shithole of a public house... Yeah... What I want right... Is for you to repeat exactly what you just said to my girl yeah? Cause I was pretty far away right and I'm not entirely sure I heard you right yeah.. and before you say anything yeah..." He held his finger to his lips to shush them, his eyes wide and theatrical, that eccentricity leaving the two men with unsteady knees, "before you say another word right I want you to think very fuckin carefully about what you're gonna say alright... Cause the thing is yeah, what I reckon is that you'd better fuckin hope I didn't hear you right.. cause if I did yeah, if you did in fact say the terrible, frankly horrifying unrepeatable things I thought I heard you say just now yeah... I'm gonna take your fuckin billiards yeah, and I'm gonna make you swallow em one by fuckin one until your ugly cuntin face caves in..."

You watched their faces pale, watched the blue tinge of fear taint their skin as they froze, mouths opening and closing, panic setting in. But Alfie didn't do anything. Didn't carry out a single one of his threats because with you wrapped up within the confines of his coat he could feel your little body trembling against his and he knew he needed to take you home. Needed to get you somewhere quiet where it could be just the two of you. Where he could sit you in his lap and take care of you the way you needed him in that moment with your big sad eyes looking up at him all watery and scared.

"Nah," he sighed, his sudden softness uncanny when matched with the glare he'd fixed on those men. The way his hand lingered in the air between him and them, accusatory finger still extended towards them as he changed his mind. Lowered his voice and grew tender instead, focussing on you.

"Nah," he shook his head, pulled his coat tighter around you and squeezed you to his chest with one arm holding you to his warm body. The other still aimed at his new enemies. "Reckon I'll make em wait eh? Give em a little while to ruminate on all their sins before they see their comeuppance yeah? What do you think eh my little ziskeit? You reckon we should make em wait it out?" He asked looking down at you, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing a tear which had slipped from your lashes despite your best efforts not to cry.

"Yeah," you tried to say, though your voice never made it beyond your lips he still knew what you'd meant to say to him.

"Alright then," he grinned snapping his fingers towards the bar, pointing out the two cunts he couldn't wait to get his hands on in the morning, "Alright mate... You see these two miserable cunts there yeah... See em? Can't miss em really ugliest fucks for a country mile... I mean look at em, cunts should be livin in the dungeons at the opera Garnier, phantom of the operas a prettier sight than them two... It's like the fuckin elephant man gôr disentry right.. and shat himself... Fuckin disentry mate."

"Uh... Yes Mr Solomon's..." The poor lad behind the bar stood watching Alfie with a timid, uncertainty in his eyes, wringing his towel between his hands. Worrying, you imagined, about what was about to be asked of him.

"Right well y'see these poor bastards right... And I say "poor" but don't you go feeling sorry for them now alright, don't you feel sorry for em cause theyve fuckin earned their right to be "poor" haven't they..." Alfie let his voice wander up an octave as he spoke, that familiar meandering madness leaving the whole room in silence as they watched the scene unfold.

You hidden away in the folds of Alfie's long black coat, him with one arm wrapped around his girl, the other gesticulating between the two men who stood still trying to beg forgiveness. Their voices trembling and meek, going ignored by everyone else in favour of Alfie's theatrics. The poor lad behind the bar wringing his towel in his hands, doing his best to follow Alfie's request.

"Where was I? Oh right yeah... You ain't got a naughty step in here have you?"

"A naughty step?" The boy stuttered looking between Alfie and another bar man, begging his friend to help him.

"Yeah, y'know... somewhere they can sit nice and quiet yeah, have a good long think about what they've done?"

"Uh.." the lad hesitated, his frightened eyes meeting yours for a moment, fleeing almost the second he'd seen the whites of your eyes, not wanting to look at you when it was clear Alfie was doing his best to keep you protected and hidden away. He didn't want to find himself on the receiving end of that infamous, sociopathic temper.

"Here," Alfie clicked his fingers, pointed to a stool by the back door which was being used to prop it open, "what about this one yeah? Nice and low to the ground an all... Right where you belong.." he narrowed his eyes at the men quivering before him, flashed them a malicious grin, "fuckin sit down both of you yeah... Nah there's not much room so you'll have to share yeah... Both of you right, I want both of you to fuckin sit yourselves down there right, nice and quiet yeah... You fuckin sit there and you don't move a muscle till I come back for you yeah?" He asked waiting for a response, chuckling when the two men backed away nodding frantically as they did exactly as they were told.

You felt Alfie's chest vibrate with his low chuckle and tried to smile yourself. It was hard however because you hadn't yet managed to shake the panic that those men had sparked in you. You hadn't been able to calm down. All this time you'd been using every fibre of strength you had in you to hold it together until you were safe and sound and out of sight but you were beginning to run out of energy. Any minute now you were sure you were going to break.

"Alfie," you mouthed, tugging on his shirt to get his attention. To make him look down at you so that he'd see the paleness in your frightened face and understand. You needed him to take you home.

"Right," he nodded, his eyes locked with yours, trying to comfort you without words or affections so as not to give your vulnerability away. "Right Ollie my boy... where are ya treacle... Ollie my lad keep an eye on these two right... If they so much as blink yeah... If they so much as blink you have my explicit permission to perform whichever act of exquisite violence you so wish..."

And with that Alfie had swept you away, the crowd parting for the pair of you as you left.

The air outside was cold and a fine rain dusted over you both as you walked but you didn't feel the cold because Alfie kept you tucked up inside his coat with him, his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you close.

He knew that that was what you needed above everything else just then. Some kind of physical connection, something to hold onto. Someone to feel close to.

And there was no one who could make you feel as loved or as safe as him.

You stopped beneath a streetlight and he turned you around in his arms, squeezed you tight to his chest all wrapped up in his embrace, your face buried in his shirt, breathing in his soft rum and woodland scent. You nuzzled into him and he stroked his fingers through your hair, cradling your head to him as he bowed his toward you and kissed you tenderly. Let his lips linger in your hair as he listened to your shivered breaths.

"Alright littlen," he sighed softly, "s'alright my little ziskeit, you're with me now yeah, just you an me and your Alfs gonna take care of you now right, Papas gonna get you home right, gonna make you feel all better yeah?"

You smiled into his shirt, holding onto him a little tighter, arms wrapped around his waist, his still holding you snug and tight so that you knew he meant every word he'd just said.

For a minute he let you stay there, holding onto him, face buried in his shirt, your frame tucked away inside his big coat, the heavy wool going some way to making you feel safe too. He stroked your hair down your back and rocked you from side to side, his eyes narrowed on the quiet street as he surveyed the shadows. He wouldn't relax until he'd gotten you home but he didn't want to make you worry so he did his best to relax his body, did his best to put the anger he felt to one side. To box it away until the morning when he planned to return to that pub and exact his revenge.

For now however the rain was beginning to soak into his coat and your dress and your sad expression was beginning to pinch with cold.

"Alright my girl," he said stroking his thumb over your cheek, letting it rest on your lips as he spoke, "alright poppet time to go home..."

🐻💌🐻

Until you'd met Alfie you'd done a lot of fending for yourself. Faced a lot of things alone. You weren't necessarily built for it, hadn't particularly excelled at it, but for the most part you'd survived well enough on your own. You'd been doing it so long that even after the older man had made it his new life's passion to take you under his wing and dote on your every need, you never quite got used to having someone else worry about you or take care of you.

That's why you'd been so determined not to cry in front of anyone else. That's why when Alfie got you home and closed the front door behind you both, giving you strict instructions to go and get warm by the fire you ignored him. Took yourself straight up to the bedroom and began to undress.

To you the evening was a write off, a night of total humiliation and weakness that you would rather forget. You just wanted to climb into bed, curl up foetal position small and snug, and hopefully fall asleep before you started crying on Alfie.

He'd seen you cry before, naturally, but that wasn't the point. The less the better as far as you were concerned. You weren't a little girl, you weren't weak, you were stronger than most women and you were determined to show Alfie that. Because of everyone Alfie was the one who appeared to have the hardest time believing that you could look after yourself.

You didn't even notice his shadow in the doorway or the sound of his footsteps as he came to a halt in the frame, his gaze fixed on you. You were too busy trying to take your shoes off and slip out of your skirts to realise he was watching you. Wondering why you weren't doing as he'd told you to.

"Now then poppet..." he said softly, his gaze warm but stern as he watched and waited for you to turn around. When you looked up at him you felt a nervous flutter in your tummy, a shiver running through you as your glossy eyes shone with tears and blinked up at him. If he kept looking at you like that, with all the gentleness of a father, you were going to break down. You were already so close to falling apart and the tender way his attentions were fixed on you then was leaving you struggling.

But Alfie didn't want you to struggle. He didn't want you to hold back.

"Ziskeit," he said with a gentle tsk tsk, "come 'ere girl," he said, a gentle warning tone to his low voice as he held your gaze and waited for you to do as you were told.

You hesitated, wanting to shake your head and argue with him, wanting to tell him to leave you alone... But you didn't argue back with your Alfie and you knew that if you told him to leave you now he wouldn't listen. Still, you tried.

"I'm fine Alf don't look at me like that... I'm alright really I just wanna go to bed..."

But as you argued your voice weakened because he held your gaze, looked at you with knowing eyes and remained stable and stubborn, waiting for you in the doorway.

"Now don't start with all that ziskeit, cause me an you both know it ain't true and you ain't the kind of girl who tells lies... Come on now darlin, come give your old man a cuddle yeah? You wouldn't deprive your devoted old Alfie of that would you ziskeit?" He asked offering you a tender, teasing little smirk. One which despite its humour you knew you couldn't deny.

So when he opened his arms out for you to fall into you gave in, slipped from the edge of the bed into his warm embrace, nuzzling into his shoulder as he closed his arms tight around your frame.

"There we go, good girl, good girl..." He cooed softly, his husky voice gentle and tickling your ear as he pressed a kiss to your cheek bone and whispered to you. Gentle things which left tears prickling in your eyes. "There we go my little ziskeit, back where you belong yeah? Back where you belong in your Alfie's arms..." he said every tender sentence like a sigh, his words caressing you so that you finally felt safe enough to let go of all that fear, all that hurt which had been building and rotting away inside you.

The first few tears escaping terrified you. You didn't want to let them fall but you couldn't control them. You tried to snatch at your cheek with your hand to wipe them away, you tried to blink and stare at the ceiling until your eyes dried out and stung but it was already too late and besides, Alfie was determined that you were going to cry. You needed to cry, even if you didn't seem to realise that yet he knew it.

"S'alright my little ziskeit, go on poppet have a big old cry yeah, never mind tryin to be brave ziskeit, papa don't want you to be brave now alright..." He murmured stroking your cheek with his thumb and pressing a lingering kiss to your forhead.

He closed his eyes as he bowed his head to yours and wrapped his arms around you tightly. He could feel you shaking as you tried to control your sobbing, he could tell you were still trying to hold back.

"Don't do that my little love," he warned tenderly stroking your hair, cradling your head in the palm of his hair, "remember who knows best yeah ziskeit, me yeah, your Alfie... An I'm tellin you not to be brave yeah... World's had enough of brave now alright, needs a little gentleness yeah, a little feeling right... Now I've got you ain't I, it's just you an me, you an your Alfie... You don't have to be brave for me little ziskeit, you don't have to be brave for me..."

And as he spoke you felt it all finally catching up to you, all the adrenaline of the evening hitting you like a freight train. Leaving you shaking and distraught, barely able to hold yourself up, your legs trembling as you shook and collapsed against Alfie's chest, your knees buckling so that he had to catch you and scoop you up into a steadier hold.

"Oh my little ziskeit," he sighed, his heart aching for you and all the sorrow and fear he could hear in your sobbing. You'd broken down just like a little girl, lost control of your emotions completely and though he knew it was good for you to get it all out, he wished you didn't have to. Wished he could snap his fingers and make all that pain go away.

He was supposed to be your great protector and yet he hadn't been able to protect you from all this.

He let out a sigh and let his own knees give in sinking slowly to the floor with you in his arms, leaning against the wall and relaxing his legs out in front of him.

"There there my darlin, there there my little ziskeit, 'salright poppet I've got you yeah, you're safe with me little ziskeit, ain't gonna let a soul hurt you ever again..." he murmured to you kissing your temple and bundling you up into his arms so that he could cradle you in his lap.

He felt your body shaking with convulsive sorrow and rested one hand in your hair. He knew that all there was to do was wait it out, wait there with you stroking your hair whilst you cried yourself into exhaustion.

"Why are people always so fuckin cruel Alfie, why are men so fucking cruel..." You sobbed, your voice anguished and shrill and breaking his heart as he stroked his fingers across your cheek and shushed you gently.

"I know ziskeit," he said swallowing a lump in his throat, feeling that familiar cold determination grio him, his mind already beginning to turn to plans of revenge. The things he was going to do to make those evil bastards regret causing you this pain. "This time tomorrow though my darlin, this time tomorrow the world will be down two fuckin cruel men though yeah, promise you that my poppet..." he said pushing a lock of hair from your face, looking down at your tear stained cheeks with such tenderness as you tried to speak again, working yourself up into even more of a state.

"But... But even if you kill them there'll still be... M...more.." you sobbed trying to swat his hand away when he cupped your cheek in his palm and pushed his thumb to your lips gently.

"Hush now ziskeit, shh," he hummed pushing his thumb between your lips, ignoring your hand on his wrist which tried to argue back. He waited patiently until he felt your mouth close around his thumb, until he felt your tongue brush over him and you began to suck. "There we are poppet," he said with a soft smile, watching your eyes flutter shut, your lashes heavy and dewy with tears. "That's better ziskeit, settle down yeah, don't you worry about anymore of them cruel bastards now, you don't need to worry about any of them no more, I'm here now ziskeit and I ain't gonna let no one touch you no more, not a soul... Only hands you're ever gonna feel on you again yeah, the only fuckin hands ever gonna touch this angelic little face right, are these two hands right here... You're mine my little ziskeit, all mine yeah... An am gonna look after you right... Gonna start by puttin them two sorry cunts in the ground..."

You opened your eyes then, lying with your head in his lap, looking up at him with teary doe eyes. He looked down at you, let you drag your lips over and away from his thumb for long enough to ask one more question.

"Promise?"

Your voice was but a sweet little whisper. Your lips hovering by the tip of this thumb and he cupped your cheek in his palm and let you nuzzle into the heart of his hand.

"Promise."

Taglist:

@mollybegger-blog @zablife @impossibleheartflower @liliac-dreamer @inalovesrabbits-blog @jomarch-wannabe @itsghostgirlyo @marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@call-sign-shark

@cocoaflowers

[graveyard-stray]

Cuddling with Tommy || Thomas Shelby x Reader drabble

GN reader, no pronouns or body parts are mentioned.

Word Count: 1K

Tags: insane amounts of fluff, like a little bit of angst, mentions of Thomas’s nightmares and PTSD, jealousy, brief NSFW mention

A/N this was meant to be like super short but then it ended up being 1K words so 💀

Thomas Shelby had never been a cuddler. He wasn’t super experienced in romance anyway as he more often had strictly sexual encounters and even those weren’t common for him. But when he finally met you he really wasn’t a big fan of cuddling, at first.

You on the other hand, were a big fan of cuddling. Of course you would never make him do anything he wasn’t comfortable with, but you wished he would hold you close while you layed in bed and fell asleep.

When you first started spending the night together you would usually just have sex and then go to sleep normally. You would gravitate towards him a bit but he never made an effort to wrap an arm around you or anything, not seeing a point to.

That was until one night. You were sound asleep when you felt a quick motion beside you and heavy breathing. You opened your eyes slowly and peered over to Tommy’s side of the bed. He was sat up and rubbing his hands over his face. His breathing was heavy and he was covered in sweat.

You quickly sat up and put a hand on his shoulder, “Tommy, are you alright?” You asked, your voice dripping with concern. He didn’t speak, just shook his head and tried to calm his breathing. “Did you have a nightmare?” You asked, although you already knew the answer.

Tommy nodded. You immediately wrapped your arms around him, one hand around his back and the other on his head as he moved to rest it on your shoulder. He really hated being vulnerable infront of others but in this moment, he cried into you. His tears wetting your shoulder as he wept. Your hand gently caressed his back, enabling him to let it all out.

He hadn’t said a word this entire time, which you understood. You didn’t expect him to speak, you hadn’t said anything either. He began to melt into you as he attempted to relax and calm his breathing.

“It’s alright Tommy. You’re safe now.” You whispered softly to him as he kissed the top of his head. He mumbled a thank you into your chest as you just held each other, one of your hands now combing through his hair, and both his arms around your torso.

After a little bit you noticed that Thomas had calmed down and fallen asleep. A smile appeared on your lips as you moved a bit so you could be laying down. You snuggled closer to Thomas and fell asleep still holding him.

From that day on Thomas became much more cuddly. Every night he wanted to fall asleep holding you (or if he had a shitty day, you holding him) and he noticed it really helped make the nightmares not as bad. Just knowing you were there made him feel more safe.

He becomes the most touchy and cuddly when he is jealous. You learned this after an event the Peaky Blinders were hosting. It was this formal evening and you were dressed in your finest clothes, you were sticking with Tommy the whole night, practically attached at the hip as you went along and kept to yourselves, except when he had to talk professionally to some random rich people you didn’t recognize.

At one point he broke off from you, “I’m sorry love I’ll be right back, Arthur needs me in private for a moment.” He excused himself, kissing your temple before walking off. You didn’t mind though, you knew how business was and could handle being by yourself for a couple of minutes.

You made your way to the desert table, taking a look at all the sweets and pastries they had out. As you contemplated what you wanted to grab you heard someone clear their throat behind you, clearly in an attempt to get your attention.

Assuming it was Tommy you swung around smiling, but you were met with the face of a man you had never seen before. “Oh I’m sorry, am I in your way?” You asked him, assuming he wanted a desert that you were blocking.

But he just shook his head. “No darling. Your quite alright. I really just wanted to come talk to you.” The man said with a smirk in his face. The way he looked you up and down made you uncomfortable, he looked as if you were a piece of meat and he hadn’t eaten in days.

“Oh, is there something business related you need? Cause that’s really more of Thomas’s terrain.” You had explained as you tried to back away from him. The man kept following though and attempting conversations with you, getting in return only short and annoyed responses from you.

After about 10 minutes (which felt like an hour for you) Tommy left his meeting with Arthur and came back looking for you. It took him a moment wandering before his eyes laid on you and, some man? He could see the discomfort in your body language and wasted no time marching over to you and getting in between you and the man.

Tommy looked sternly at him, “So sorry but me and my love were actually just leaving.” He scowled at the man who looked embarrassed and frightened, not even speaking a word and just scurrying away.

You thanked Tommy and he brushed it off, as if there was any world in which he wouldn’t have defended you from some creep. The rest of the night he had his arm around your waist protectively, keeping you close at all times.

That night once the guests were all gone and you got in bed, all he wanted to do was spoon you, his arms around your waist and his face in your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. Even if you asked to get up to get a glass of water he just grumbled something that sounded a bit like a no and held you tighter.

It was quite cute honestly, how he went from a distant loner to the most clingy man you knew, and you wouldnt have it any other way.

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again - Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: After knowing each other since childhood, you and Tommy made a juvenile promise to get married one day. But that promise only turned into a renege when Tommy returned from France. Only he returned a completely different man.

Ratings: Mature, minors DNI

Warnings: Will be stated at the beginning of each chapter

1. Sign Of The Times

2. Would That I

3. The Other Woman

4. Let You Break My Heart Again

BONUS CHAPTER: 5. From The Start

---

If you would like to be on the tag list, please comment on this post!

[xpiredcheeto]

Glass

(Not my gif)

word count

Reader stays out late and comes home injured.

Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Arthur Shelby x sister reader, Ada Shelby x sister reader

Warnings: Blood, injuries, blood, death, killing, cursing, reader gets attacked, mentions of cocaine, Arthur is sad and needs a hug very bad, mentions of prostitution. I think that's all. 

This takes place during season 2

word count:  2395

 This whole situation could have been avoided if you had decided to call it an early night and ignored your burning desire to stay awake and go to some pub in the middle of the night, but of course, being a Shelby, you decided to go out. 

You walked down the cold and dark alleyway leading to the building. The outside walls were cracking, paint was peeling from its edges. Just the place you were looking for. It was called The Red Lion. You walked up the brick steps of the pub, and the click of your shoes echoed in your mind. The mahogany door had a stained glass window depicting a fisherman. You had no idea what a pub called "The Red Lion" was doing by having an image of a fisherman as their window, but maybe they got it on sale. 

It was far away from the watchful eyes of Small Heath, away from your reputation. It freed you in a certain way. Unfortunately, being away from the negatives of your reputation also meant you were away from the protection it brought with it. Normally this was not an issue, but tonight was different. When you walked into the pub, everything became silent at once. All heads in the bar turned to face you. Maybe you were not as far from your reputation as you thought you were.  

"You think she's a spy?" one man asked another 

The old floors creaked under your footsteps. You approached the bartender to ask for your usual when a voice from behind confronted you. "Yer not allowed in our pub, little girl. Why don't you run on home?" 

You made note of his voice, he was Irish and he spoke with a level of arrogance like no one had ever told him "no" in his life. 

"Sorry, but I'm not going anywhere. I came here for a drink and I'm going to get it. If you would just leave me alone I could have my drink in peace and you won't have to worry about me."

You could tell by the look on his face that he didn't like the answer you had given him. his brows furrowed and his expression contorted into one of annoyance. 

"I asked you to leave and when I ask you to do something, you better do it. Now, this is your last chance to leave before something happens that you won't like." He was trying to scare you and it wasn't working. You were going to hold your ground until this strange man left you alone. 

  "Look, I just told you that I'm not leaving so why don't you just leave me alone-" you were cut off when two hands grasped your shoulders. They dragged you backward off your chair and onto the wooden flooring of the bar. You hit the ground with a bang and waves of pain radiated up and down your spine. You let out a hiss of pain and the hands grabbed you again. This time they angled you toward a glass table before you could process what had happened. Your body was thrown with such force you could not stop the trajectory of your body. You threw both arms out in front of your face to block the impact of the table. Suddenly, waves of white-hot, stinging pain punctured your forearms. Blood trickled down your arms as you looked up. There were two men before you, the one that confronted you earlier and another. His face was withered, and his expression bore a constant snarl as he looked down at you. 

"Are you two fucking insane?! That's the Shelby girl, her brothers will fucking kill all of us!" the bartender was seething with rage. His face was a glowing red color. You glanced back at the men, they looked scared now. 

You looked down at the floor, the brown wood now tainted red with your blood. You heard movement behind you, rushed and frantic, then the slamming of the front door. You looked back up at the bartender, he threw a dishtowel at you. "For the bleeding," he said. You held the dirty rag to your left arm, leaving the right to bleed all over your clothes. 

You limped to the door, turned the handle, and walked out. A rush of frigid air hit you, cooling the thick rivets of blood streaming from your arm. The walk home wasn't too long but the pain was making it seem so much longer. You looked down at your white blouse, patches were saturated with red blood. The way it stuck to your skin was revolting, partially dried, and sticky. The metallic stench was almost overwhelming if not for the pain coursing through your body. And, oh God, it hurt. It wasn't just the pain from your arms, your back still ached from the fall, and it made each step agony.   

You were approaching Small Heath now. The smell was normally the first thing that hit you, but not tonight, now the only thing you could think of was blood and glass. The shards still embedded into your arms made each movement painful. You could see the house now, you were so close.

You walked up to the door, twisted the handle, and pulled. Awaiting you in the kitchen was Ada. Her eyes shot up, "Do you know how worried I was-" she cut herself off. "Oh my God, Y/N, what happened? Come here     I'll patch you up." Her face was laced with concern. "Sit down, I'll get the bandages." She got up and move to the bathroom, you could hear her rummaging around in the cabinets. Glancing at your arms, you saw the rag was saturated with blood.

Behind you, you heard the door opening, then a loud gasp. It was Arthur. "Jesus Christ, who the fuck did this to you?" he was next to you now, looking at your arms. You responded, "I don't exactly know who it was. There were two of them, but I don't know what I did to upset them that much."

  Ada returned from the bathroom with her hands full of bandages and a pair of tweezers. Arthur looked relieved to see her. She acknowledged Arthur and started speaking "I found the bandages," she held up the pair of tweezers, "and these are for the glass." She sat down next to you. "How did this happen?" she asked again. 

"I got thrown through a table." You replied. Arthur let out a sigh of anger. Ada picked up her tweezers and looked up at your face. "This might hurt so prepare yourself." The tweezers grasped at a piece of glass and you let out a hiss. Arthur noticed and tried to calm you. "Shh, it's alright, it's alright." he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of the fact. The door opened once more. All three of you turned your heads, Tommy was standing in the doorway with a look of confusion burned onto his features.   He took a step towards you and spoke. "What the fuck happened?"  

"She got thrown through a fucking table, Tom," Arthur responded for you. 

"What the fuck do you mean she got thrown through a table?! Who the fuck threw her through a table?" You moved to answer but let out a pained gasp when Ada pulled one of the shards out. Arthur looked back at you and moved his hand to rub up and down your back. 

"I-oh fuck, I don't know who it was. They were Irish and in a pub called The Red Lion. I don't even know what I did to offend them so much." you spoke through gritted teeth.

Arthur looked at Tommy, they were going to trash the pub later and find the men that did this, but first, they needed to make sure you were going to be alright. Ada moved to another shard, this one came out easier than the last, but the pain was still significant. And, oh god, you were crying now. 

"This really fucking hurts." you sobbed out. Arthur responded to you, "I know, love. I swear I'm gonna kill everyone that hurts you. I-I'll fucking kill the people that did this." He looked like he was about to cry too. Ada looked up from her work to inform you she was almost done removing the glass, just one more to go. You looked at Tommy, he had moved and was now sitting on a chair across the kitchen. He shot Arthur a glance and said "Tomorrow, brother."

Ada was getting ready to pull the final one out now, it was located near your left wrist. At this point, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, the blood loss made you dizzy and lightheaded. She grasped it with her tweezers and pulled. Your eyes shot open and you let out a scream of pain. Arthur grabbed your right hand and rested his head on the corner of your neck. It was the closest he could get to hugging you at this moment.

"Alright love, the painful part is over, all I have to do now is wrap them up." Her voice always seemed to soothe you. She placed the edge of the bandage in your palm and wrapped it around a few times. She then moved it down to loop around your thumb before wrapping it around your forearm. She repeated the process on your other arm. You looked over at Tommy, he stared forward in a silent rage.

"I'm gonna go to bed now." You moved to get up. Tommy moved from his chair, "No, love, you shouldn't be walking. I'll carry you to bed, Alright?" You nodded and he walked over, he looped one arm under your knees and one beneath your back. He lifted you and carried you up the stairs, he pushed the door open with his side and laid you on the bed. He went to your dresser and grabbed a nightgown for you. He laid it on the bed for you to put on. He turned to leave the room, "Thank you." 

"You don't need to thank me, love." He placed a soft kiss on the crown of your head before turning and leaving the room. You unbuttoned the now red blouse you were wearing and pulled it off, it dragged on your arms sending pain blooming through them. You let out a small hiss and let it drop to the floor. You reach down and slid your bottoms off, also leaving them on the floor. You pulled the nightgown over your head and down the rest of your body, you moved to get under the covers when you heard a knock at the door followed by a voice. You sat up. "Hello, can I come in? If you don't want me to that's fine... I just don't want you to be alone right now." It was Arthur.

"Yeah, come in."

The door opened with a creak and he walked over to you. He gently grabbed you in his arms and held you. "I'm sorry I couldn't protect you. I...I don't ever want you getting hurt and I wish I was there so I could keep you safe." he paused. "Can I stay in here tonight, so I can make sure you're safe?" he looked at you, awaiting your response.

"Yes, Arthur, you can stay in here tonight." 

"Alright, love. I'll sit in the chair over there." He pointed to the chair across your room next to your fireplace. "No, Arthur. You can sleep in bed with me. I don't mind, I'd feel safer that way anyways." He looked surprised, but he walked over to your bed and slid in next to you. He adjusted his position next to you and said, "Alright, love, go to sleep now. You need your rest."  

He looped his arms around you in a protective hug. He held you tight to his chest as if you would disappear if he let go. "Please don't scare me like that again," he spoke as if he was still scared that you were seriously injured. "I don't know what id do if I lost you." his voice was breaking, and you could tell he was holding back tears. You could tell he wanted to say more, to tell you he wouldn't be able to live with himself knowing he wasn't there to keep you safe. He didn't tell you he would blame himself for the rest of his life if you died and how he already gets nightmares about that exact scenario. Instead, he held you tighter and pushed his face into the crook of his neck. You could feel his tears run down your shoulder like shiny pearls. You felt like crying too. 

"Oh, Arthur. I would never leave you like that. I'm so sorry I made you worry about me." You turned around so you could wrap your arms around him, wincing slightly when the sheets rubbed against the bandages. "It's alright, love. It's not your fault. It's those fucking men that hurt you. I'll find 'em, make sure they never hurt you again." 

"It's alright, Arthur. They can't hurt me now." You made your voice as soft as possible in an attempt to calm him. 

"I know, love. I know," he paused. "Just...If you want a drink, go to The Garrison. Won't be mad as long as you don't end up like me. Oh god, please don't end up like me... I'm sorry. I'm keeping you up. Go to sleep now, you need rest." 

"It's Okay, Arthur. You don't need to apologize, and you need to stop insulting yourself."  He nodded into your neck. You shut your eyes and melted into the darkness behind your eyelids. You savored the feeling of protection that your brother gave you, it made you feel like you were safe from anything while you were in his arms. And you most likely were, he would do anything to keep you safe, even if that meant bashing someone's head in with a glass ashtray. Even if that meant killing fathers and sons, none of it was as important as keeping you safe. You drifted into the abyss of sleep in his arms, knowing that none of your fears would be able to harm you.

[veeisdunn]

can you write something to do with exam stress, loneliness and suicidal thoughts (if you're comfortable with it) finals season is coming and it would comfort me a lot. could it be a tommy x sister reader? Maybe the reader is stressed about her exams and is being bullied in school. I really enjoyed your first two fics (the sh ones) and I would really appreciate this. Lots of love xxx

Bargain

Tommy Shelby x sister!reader

I'm sorry that this took so long! It is kind of ironic as I'm also going through this right now with my A-Level exams. I understand how dark things tend to be getting in these times and you sound like you've got a lot on your plate. I really hope you enjoy this, I made it especially for you! ♡

warning: suicidal thoughts and actions

WC: 3.6K

MASTERLIST

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

One day, though you couldn't remember when, the jokes stopped being funny. Your classmates were relentless - to them you were gypsy scum, the spawn of a criminal family. You used to laugh along but the taunting wore you down. 

It didn't help that you began to shut your family out as well. Ever since you passed the entrance exam at that God forsaken grammar school, you withdrew. Too much reading and research to tally up the betting books and mediate domestic disputes.

As you moved onto your final years of education, you saw a way out of your family's situation - if you got into university then you wouldn't need to join the family company or marry a rich man to escape. You could have your own career which didn't break the law.

Of course, in the 1920s, this was no easy feat for a woman - or anyone. Luckily for you, you were attending one of the best grammar schools in the country, but, though you weren't in poverty, you were at a disadvantage with your peers. Most of your classmates had options: they had a dad with a PhD, a legal family business or an arranged marriage with a wealthy man lined up in case they failed their studies.

The pressure seemed never ending. You needed this, there simply was no other option. You had to grapple with this reality as well as deal with the tormenting of your classmates and the fear that one of your family members would end up with a bullet in their heads. 

You didn't speak to anyone in your family about your crippling concerns. You didn't think they'd see the value in a university education - especially for a woman. 

School work distracted you to such a point where you didn't even notice Tommy's concerned presence shadowing you most days. He just kept popping up everywhere you went. 

School gate? Tommy.

Library? Tommy.

The kitchen at 3am? Tommy.

Did that man even fucking sleep? 

Eventually, you "confronted" him. You had a tradition of being in Charlie's Yard on a Friday night. You would sit and look into the water - laughing, crying, sometimes screaming in frustration. This was a solitary activity, but one particular Friday, Tommy was already waiting there for you.

"(Y/N)!, you're late!" He shouted across the yard, taking a puff of his cigarette with a cheeky grin.

Fuck’s sake.

You hurry your pace, slushing your boots in the mud making your way to the wooden dock. “What are you doing?” you call out, frustrated.

“Is a man not able to sit, eh?” Tommy shuffled over and gestured for you to sit. You just huffed in response and remained standing.

“Look, Y/N/N, I can leave if you want, but I just wanted to see you? You’re always buried in a book these days.” His tone turned more sympathetic. You relented and sunk down next to him.

“I can’t be long. I have an essay, Tommy.” You spoke timidly, you were mentally prepared to break down alone but now you had to hold yourself together.

“You have the weekend.” He turned to look at you but you turned away.

“No. I have more work for the weekend.” You choked and turned your body so you were facing away from his stare, “I have a lot of work to do. I’m bloody drowning in it Tommy.”

He took a deep, prolonged breath and discarded his cigarette. “I think, Y/N, I think you need to spend a lot less time on work. Aren’t your friends all out on a Friday night? Why don’t you join them?”

You scoffed. “Friends? No one wants to be friends with a gypsy, or a Shelby.”

This struck a nerve with Tommy, he was also both of those things, yet he was respected and you were isolated. “Yeah? Say’s fucking who?” 

“People at school.” “And why are you listening to them?” “Because - it’s just hard. You wouldn’t get it. I’m so fucking worn down.”

The man took another sigh, realising he was fighting an uphill battle. “Your classmates aren’t in Small Heath, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone here, you know that?”

You shook your head rapidly “No. No Tom, I don’t care about my social life. If I don’t do well in my exams, I’ll never get into University. I need to go, I want it so bloody bad.” You were so engrossed in your emotions that you didn’t even feel the salty tears run down your cheeks.

Tommy was taken aback by your reaction. He couldn’t fathom why you were putting so much pressure on yourself. Of course, he would rather you made your goal something a bit easier than perfect grades, but then whatever you dream was became his by proxy. He had spoken to your teachers, they were certain you’d get the grades you needed. They had even mentioned your tendency to overdo things, but things weren’t nearly as bad at home at that time so he disregarded it. What a stupid mistake that was.

He was about to reach out to touch your hand, but you could feel the floodgates bursting, so you tried to leave. 

“Y/N!” He shouted, following close behind you.

Go away. Go away. Go away.

“Look, I didn’t fucking ask you to come here.” You snapped as he grabbed your arm.

“You didn’t need to. Your my fucking sister, you don’t need to ask. I didn’t want to be so blunt but you need to calm the fuck down with the books, ay?" 

"No. You don't understand." You shook your head adamantly , "if I don't do well in my exams, then what's the fucking point in anything anymore?" 

—

"So, how'd your chat with Y/N go?” Polly asked her nephew as the evening dawned.

He settled into the sofa and took a deep inhale, rubbing his cold, sweaty palms together. “She didn’t take it very well. She probably just came back here to study more upstairs.

Polly leaned forward in her seat: “she never came home.”

Shit.

“Did you upset her, Thomas?”

“I couldn’t tell you. She’s hard to get these days.”

—

Tommy thought little of her absence. The library closed at 6PM - she’d be home by 7.

7:30. Still no Y/N. 

He went to check your room to see if you’d slipped in and snuck to bed. Your room looked like it had been ransacked. Books, pencils, papers, and clothes covered every surface. Your bed was unmade and the curtains were drawn. It reminded the man of a house that had been robbed. The air was stagnant and cold.

On your bed, a book stood out to Tommy. It wasn’t a textbook or workbook, it was a small leather-bound diary with fraying ribbons pulling it shut. Without much thought, he settled down onto the bed and yanked the curtain open, amber sunset pouring in. The book felt heavy and the spine was stressed. He noticed that lots of other papers had been shoved between the pages.The edges of some were visible, your handwriting adorning them. He pulled the end of the matted ribbon firmly undoing the knot and allowing him access to what he came to realise was your diary. He flicked to the latest entry and saw it was dated for just the day before. He skimmed your scrawls: I will never be good enough, I just can't do it. I can't do anything anymore.

After freezing for a second he slammed it shut and threw it against the wall. He was fuming with the situation, and with himself. He knew you were struggling but he thought it was your need to prove yourself to your bullying peers - he could have never dreamed that you hated yourself this much.

Without much more thought, Tommy grabbed his coat and practically launched himself out of the door. He wasn't going to come home until he had you with him.

—

After your altercation with Tommy, you found yourself back by the cut. Your emotions were always heightened there, you tried not to go to the part where your mother jumped in, that was usually reserved for the anniversary of her death, but for some reason your feet carried you down there. You never knew her and by the sounds of things, you were very different people. You didn't even know why she did what she did, you were too young back then to understand. One thing you did know was how she must have felt. The feeling of utter despair. The loneliness. 

You'd had a serious case of suicidal ideation since the start of your new school. In the back of your mind you always knew what to do if everything became too much. You had written letters to everyone and stuffed them under your pillow. You were ready. Perhaps tonight was the night?

This revelation almost gave you a twisted sense of euphoria. I don't need to go home again. I never have to write another essay. I never need to be called another name. No one will need to look after me. I can just end it all. 

These thoughts carried you to the edge of the water. You thought about how your mother would have felt drowning and freezing. Calm, hopefully. Release. 

You collected some large stones from the dusty mud around you and stuffed them in your coat pockets. You figured that being pulled down would make you go quicker. You knew that your brothers would be sad but you also knew that they'd move on. They'd done it once before, they could do it again. After all, they all had lives and you had nothing but stress and pain and anguish. 

Looking down into the gloomy water you could feel cool droplets splashing onto your face and mixing with your tears. The abyss was inviting, your doubtful thoughts that had stopped you in the past were whispering to you but you told yourself that you wanted this. You wanted this, right?

You took your shoes off and laid them neatly at the edge of the water. 

A leap. A splash. A scream.

Cold.

Then you felt someone grab you.

—

Tommy had barely made it in time. He saw you, shoeless, on the edge of the cut. He could only shout and run after you as you descended into the water. Without hesitation, he jumped in after you and grabbed you. He tried to pull your body up to the surface with him but you were fighting him. Your coat was sinking first, weighing the both of you down, so he wrestled it off you. All either of you could hear was splashes and all you could feel was the paralysing blanket of cold.

Holding onto your wrists, he went up for air to gather strength, before diving back under to pull you up. You were barely underwater for a few minutes but the frigid water had knocked you out. Tommy paddled to the steps a few metres away from where you'd jumped and pulled his drenched body onto them. He wheezed and gasped for air then dragged you up the steps by your armpits. The water level was particularly low so the steps seemed to go on forever. He'd boarded boats from these steps but never did he think he'd be ascending them with your limp body.

Your breathing was shaky and erratic. Tommy was just glad you were breathing at all. He laid you down in the dirt and rolled you onto your side just in time for you to involuntary convulse and cough up water while he hyperventilated. He firmly patted your back as your lungs cleared. Despite the heaving, you were still unconscious. Your lips were going a dusky shade of blue and the skin around your eyes was darkening, either from the cold or the lack of oxygen, he wasn't sure. 

Tommy desperately tried to get control of his breathing so he could compose himself but his body was viscerally reacting to the shock of the cold water overwhelming his senses. He was in such physical anguish that his emotions had completely dulled. He'd honed the ability to turn his thoughts off while in the trenches and it often came in handy. 

His main priority was getting you warm and dry. He tried to drag you up but didn't have the strength in his cold and wet state. Instead he had to resort to shouting for help, knowing that there were Blinders at the entrance to the docks. A few of Tommy's associates came around the corner, their coats flying in the wind behind them and the group of them managed to carry you back to Watery Lane while your body continued to involuntary spasm due to the cold. 

Nobody else was in the house so Tommy flung your body on the floor in front of the fireplace and set a copious pile of logs on fire. He hunched over you and basked in the heat, ripping off his coat, hat, and suit and discarding them into a pile. After sitting for a moment shivering in a vest and underwear, he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a towel.

In the living room, you'd rolled over so you could be closer to the heat, you weren't entirely sure what was going on but you liked the feeling of the warmth against you.

He ripped your drenched shirt off you and tried to ring your hair out with the towel. You were mumbling something incoherent but he ignored it. Your body laid next to the fire as he dried himself off. 

You awoke when he accidentally knocked a book off the coffee table. Your body felt numb and you were extremely confused. He rushed over as you tried to roll away from the fire.

"Tommy?" you croaked, even more confused than you already were. What was he doing here? The look on his face then reminded you. He was drenched. You'd actually done it. You'd actually done it and he stopped you.

You ignored his demanding stare and sat up, coughing. You wheezed, holding your hands around your neck to reassure yourself that you weren't drowning. 

You didn't drown, but you were soaked to the bone. 

"What were you thinking, eh?" Tommy studied your startled expression, you couldn’t tell if he was mad, disappointed, or feeling sorry for you, "What the hell is going on with you?" 

You remained silent and refused to look up at him. 

"Y/N, what did you just do? And don't tell me that you fell. Your coat was full of stones." 

He was going to make you say it. Dick.

You could only think of two words: “I’m sorry.”

Tommy scoffed and sat down in front of you. “You’re sorry? You are sorry?”

Did he want to know why? “I’m sorry that you jumped in and got wet. You look cold.”

He was physically taken aback by your words. “The only thing you should be sorry for is not talking to me.” He picked up the towel and began to dry you, understanding that trying to reason with you in this state was no better than arguing with a brick wall. After your hair was no longer dripping, he brought you dry clothes and made you discard your wet ones in the bathroom while he pressed his ear up against the wall to listen to your every move.

Tommy was angry with himself. He’d sat back and watched the pressure on you accumulate, only realising when it was too late. You’d nearly died. Y/N. His baby sister. The girl he held as a baby. The girl he read bedtime stories to. The girl he taught to ride horses. The girl he loved unconditionally. It was fate that had just saved your life - he very easily could have looked for you somewhere else and that would have cost your life. The thought made his heart hurt. You’d nearly died. You’d nearly died. Before he’d even realised, he was crying against the doorframe as you left the bathroom. 

You tried to apologise again but he ignored you and wrapped you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt. He was scared to loosen his grip as he feared you would slip away. He cried gut-wrenching sobs into your shoulder. You gave in and began to cry as well. You couldn’t even figure out why. You were plagued with a viscous mixture of anguish and guilt - you were also still really fucking cold, the pair of your shivered in eachother’s arms. 

Tommy pulled away and stared directly into your eyes. Instinctively your gaze turned to break the exchange. You couldn’t stand his distraught stare, it made you want to vomit.

“Y/N” He took a deep breath, “I’m here now and I’m not leaving you ever again, so you better tell me what the fuck is going on inside that head, eh?” You gulped. Only one coherent thought was running through your head. “Cold.”

With those words, the pair of you were huddled next to the fire.

“I’m gonna fail, Tommy.” The admission slipped out.

He held back his rant he’d repeated to you countless times and let you continue. All he wanted to do was scream and shout, to tell you and the rest of the bloody street how talented and capable you are.

“I want to make something for myself just like you have but I can’t do it. I just feel like I can’t do anything right. If I’m a good person then why do people hate me?” You took shaky breaths to process the thoughts you’d aired. Tommy pulled you in so you were resting on his side while the fire crackled in front of you. He waited to say anything until he could be sure that you were finished.

“Look, Y/N. Some people in this world are just full of hate, they wouldn’t know kindness if it hit them between the eyes. You just want to make everyone happy but you can’t because some people are gonna fucking resist until they die. I’m so proud of you, Y/N, you have grown up to be a talented and smart woman. You will make a life for yourself as long as you remember that. If you want to do that through school then, by all means, go for it, but there are other ways. What you need is some time to rest, and you need to get away from that fucking school. You’re in your final year, just finish things off at home, I’ll get you a tutor or anything you need as long as you never go back.”

He leaned back against the sofa to physically recover from his speech. He couldn’t see your face but he watched as you curled your body into a tight ball and leaned in even closer to you.

“It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything is so dull. I’m not happy.” No shit. And then you began to cry for what felt like the millionth time.

He just held you and stared into the flames. “Shh shh, no, it’s alright. you’re fine, shh. No more anything for the rest of the weekend, Dr Shelby’s orders, alright?” You chuckled lightly while he remained serious,  “Over my many, many years, I’ve realised that if you work on something forever it never gets done well, but if you take enough breaks and are kind to yourself, it will get done. I can bet everything that you will become a strong and independent woman one day.”

After a few more back and forths, you spilling your negative thoughts and him retorting with a classic Tommy speech, the two of you fell asleep by the fire, the heat thawing the pain you’d both felt. Tommy came to the conclusion that you were simply too good for this world, but he knew you better than anyone and was certain it would all work out for you in the end.

The next morning, the pair of you made a deal that you would tell him about all the bad thoughts you were having and he promised he’d always be there to listen. After a few meetings with a doctor and your school, Tommy set you up a study area in his office. The two of you would work during the morning, eat lunch together, then you’d shadow him in the afternoon to - as he put it - “learn from the master”. 

You took time to reflect on the things that really mattered to you - not the things that really mattered to the girl who was hated by her peers and would have died for flawless grades - the things that mattered to you, Y/N Shelby. You cared deeply about those around you. Seeing how broken Tommy was after your attempt made you want to cooperate with him and your doctor to become well enough to live the life you so desperately craved. It was almost ironic that you’d nearly taken that opportunity from yourself.

You still had days when the light at the end of the tunnel faded and you’d again lose sight of your future, but keeping up with his side of the deal, Tommy was always there to coax you out of it. 

When you were younger, your brother taught you lots of things, and now he felt like he was giving you a final, important lesson. To learn to use your life, because he could so clearly see the potential you have.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡

Vee x

MASTERLIST

[capnmachete]

The Man in the Mirror A Tommy x Alfie/Sholomons short fic

THE MAN IN THE MIRROR An Alfie x Tommy short fic in 4 parts Alfie Solomons' Jewish air of absolute certainty falters in the wake of the shooting at Margate. This has been knocking around in my to-do pile for awhile; it's absolutely self-indulgent and angsty and sappy but c'est la vie. (A bit of this has already been posted as part of Augusnippets 2024.) Posting it here in serialized form; will probably post it over on AO3 as well. Thanks for reading

Chapter 1 The Monster It’s astonishing, yeah?  The things a man learns about himself after being shot in the fucking face, and left for dead.  Recalibrates things a bit, it certainly fucking does.  Alfie Solomons had never been a vain man.  He wasn’t a good man, not even close, engaging in the seven deadlies – avarice, wrath, lust, the whole bloody lot – regularly and with enthusiasm. But he wasn’t vain. He hardly paid a whit of attention to his own appearance, perpetually rumpled and often bloody or sooty or flour-dusty due to his line of work.  .  Wealth and power and territory and mastery over his domain were the only things that mattered; he’d never given a tinker’s dam what he looked like, aside from making sure he was properly attired and decked out in gelt.

Until now. --- Alfie’s first glimpse of his own face, after the shooting on the beach at Margate, had come as a shock. He’d been in hospital, at Ramsgate Infirmary, for quite some time.  For weeks he’d been confined to bed, heavily bandaged and drugged into a stupor, while surgeons wired bits of his skull back together and tried, with limited success, to reassemble the scraps that had once been the left side of his face.  Alfie had drifted in and out of consciousness, talking to people that weren’t there.  Sometimes he grew restless and insisted on getting up – claiming he had work to do, or that the kettle was boiling, or any number of other delusional things that required his immediate attention. And sometimes combative, which eventually necessitated restraints – wrists and ankles manacled to the bedrails – after he decked an orderly while in the throes of a hallucination.

And he'd written letters, apparently.  Or, more accurately, dictated them to Ollie, his longtime aide-de-camp and the only one permitted to visit.  Some were to Rivka, some were to his deceased mother, some were to business associates.  Some were to Tommy Shelby.  Some were to Ollie himself, dictated to him as he sat right there at the bedside.  The letters were complete nonsense, of course – wild, morphine-addled ramblings, interspersed with occasional instructions about how his affairs were to be handled and inquiries about his dog.  A few were sprinkled with things so racy or inflammatory that Ollie – exercising the discretion his fallen boss wasn’t currently capable of – made the executive decision to burn them rather than carry them to the post. Nearly a month passed before the surgeons declared they had done all they could do.  Another week went by before the bandages came off, and yet another before Alfie was lucid enough to carry on a coherent conversation, or feed himself, or do much of anything else.  Finally, to his great relief, he was allowed out of bed for short spells.  Restless, he walked the halls, still a little hazy with laudanum.  And always flanked by either Ollie or an orderly or a nurse, to ensure he didn’t fall or injure himself, since he no longer had any depth perception.

It was during one of these brief constitutionals that he first spied his own reflection, as they passed the plate-glass window of the Infirmary's pharmacy.  He flinched, purely out of reflex.  The image wasn’t very clear – indistinct, wavery and shifting with the light, as reflections in glass often are – but it was enough.  “Oy gotenyu,” he muttered, blinking.  "Fucking hell." And demanded to be taken to the lavatory for a closer look, insisting when the nurse demurred.

In the lavatory mirror, he studied himself carefully, in silent, mesmerized horror, big hands braced on the porcelain sink.  He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly bone-dry.

Alfie had never considered himself any great beauty – unrefined, and neither elegant nor fine-featured.  He was broad and bearlike, plagued by psoriasis and prone to scowling.  Still, he’d been told he was somewhat handsome in a rough-edged sort of way, relatively pleasant to look at.  But now -- well.

What stared back Alfie him was monstrous. Intolerable. The right half of his face was unchanged, still the same Alfred Solomons, Jr. he'd seen in the mirror every day for the past forty years.  The left was unrecognizable -- ravaged, mottled, the flesh gnarled and twisted and laddered with stitches. The surgical incisions, not yet fully healed, were an angry, raw red, painful to look at.   His left eye, once the same clear gray-green as the right, gazed blindly back at him, a sightless milky blue marble, half-buried in livid, swollen flesh.

“Go fetch Ollie, please,” he told the nurse without turning around, good eye still fixed on the ruins of his face.  “Now.”

When Ollie arrived, Alfie demanded his pistol, intent on finishing the job Tommy had botched, putting the wretch in the mirror out of its misery.  And when Ollie refused – shaky, knees turned to water, but steadfast – Alfie roared at everyone to get the fuck out.  And then went on a rampage that left the room in a shambles. And left Alfie himself in a breathless, spent heap on the floor, the outburst having entirely sapped what limited strength he'd regained.

He’d immediately been drugged back into oblivion, and shackled to the bedrails once more.  And there he’d stayed, until he had healed sufficiently, and was declared once again calm and sane and civil enough, to safely be sent home.

[moments-on-film]

Panic attacks and nightmares.

Thomas “Tommy” Shelby: Peaky Blinders

Alec Hardy: Broadchurch

Anthony Bridgerton: Bridgerton

Joel Miller: The Last of Us

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto: The Bear

[aphroditeslover11]

Oppie angst, where he cheats on her and she has had enough?? In most fics they always take his infidelity in stride but I want to see him suffer because of it.

I don’t know if I’ve quite done this justice, but the reader certainly hurts him equally in this one. I hope you enjoy x

Enough

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, cheating, mentions of alcohol, Oppie smokes as canon.

From the very beginning of your relationship with Robert you knew that you were going to have to make sacrifices. He spent so much of his time working or out with his colleagues that you had to make adjustments to fit into his busy life. He was a genius after all, as everyone constantly reminded you. Over time, as his schedules became your schedules and his friends became your friends, you began not to mind so much, but this time you really had had enough.

~

An old friend was going to be passing through California and you had made plans to go out for the evening, to catch up and finally introduce her to Oppie. This was all thwarted by the phone call that you received five minutes before setting out of the door from Robert, apologetic but nevertheless telling you that he couldn’t make it. No doubt something had come up at work, someone had made a breakthrough and he needed to be a part of it. You tried not to let it ruin your evening, going out to eat with your friend anyway.

The restaurant that you had chosen was a grill, nothing too upmarket but it served good steaks. When the waiter asked what you wanted to drink, your friend was shocked when you didn’t order wine.

“Don’t tell anyone, but I’m expecting.”

“Oh my goodness, that’s so exciting! Does Robert know yet?”

“No, I’m planning on telling him tonight when I get home.”

~

Feeling a bit tired you went home earlier than you had originally planned, in truth you felt rather flat that Oppie had baled on you again. He was usually late, but the clock read 2:00 when you rolled over in bed, being woken by someone at the front door. You presumed that it would be him, but headed down anyway just to make sure. He spotted you, dressed in your nightgown with a blanket around your shoulders, when you were halfway down the stairs.

“It’s late love, why are you still up?” he asked, giving up trying to be quiet as he had been. There was something about the look on his face that made you uneasy, like he was hiding something. You walked further down the stairs, reaching the bottom before responding.

“You woke me up, coming though the door. Where were you?”

“Oh, just at the office, Lawrence had a breakthrough in the rad lab and wanted to show us all.”

“Oh, what’s he found?”

“Just… look I”m tired, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow. I just want to go to bed.” He made to push past you up the stairs, but you stopped him. He wreaked of cheap perfume, there weren’t any women in the department which must mean…

“Robert, who is she?”

“I don’t know what you mean love, let’s just go to bed…”

“Robert you’ve spent the evening with a woman, I can smell her on you. Just tell me the truth, I don’t have the energy for your lies.” He walked back into the hall, heading for the lounge with you hot on his heels, reaching for a pack of Chesterfields he had left on the side and lighting one, finally flobbing down onto the nearby sofa.

You perched on the coffee table directly in front of him, waiting patiently for him to speak before you restarted your confrontation.

“Darling, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you’re right that I spent the night with another woman.” You just stared at him. Your Robert had cheated on you and oh god there was the baby, not that he even knew about that.

“She’s an undergrad, studying chemistry at the university, she introduced herself to me and we went to dinner, and then things just sort of happened. But I swear, it was an accident.” This was when you started to feel the angry tears seeping through. Even in this situation you could tell that he didn’t like seeing you cry, it had always made him feel uncomfortable.

“How the hell can sleeping with someone be an accident? You aren’t even drunk for fuck’s sake.”

“I know, I can’t excuse it, but surely you can try to…”

“How could you do this, everything was going so well, and the baby.” You suddenly stopped, realising what you had just said. Robert moved forward in his seat.

“Did you say baby? Am I going to be a father?”

“I am pregnant Robert, and yes it’s yours, but you’re not going to be a father. You are the last person on earth I could raise a child with after this.” You stood up, now it was your turn to walk away from him. “When I walk out of that door, you are going to leave this house and we are never going to see each other again. I don’t care if it was only once, I can’t trust you anymore.” The tears were coming in sheets now, wiping your eyes with the back of your arm did nothing to staunch the flow. “I want a divorce,”

You walked out of the door and despite what you had said Robert still tried to follow you. He looked shell-shocked, his eyes empty of anything except for confusion.

“But y/n, I love you. You’re my wife.”

“If you love me, then you’ll do as I ask.” You carried on walking.

“I’ll pay you money, for the child, I promise I’ll help…”

He wasn’t following you anymore.

[seedlings-stuff]

Should Have Been There

Tommy Shelby x Female Reader

Tags: Hurt/comfort, fluff

Word count: 1540

Warnings: violence, blood, injury, weapons

Hello! This is my first ever attempt at writing fan fiction so please let me know what you think! I love hurt/comfort but this really just turned into hurt/alittlebitofcomfort

As the night descended on the streets of Birmingham, (Y/N) hastily made her way back home. She didn’t mean to be out by herself at this hour, but Tommy was supposed to pick her up from her flat soon and the fastest way home took her straight through a slightly darker area of town. 

She knew the streets like the back of her hand by now, preferring to travel by foot, but the shadows cast by the evening light made the alleyways appear almost distorted as she paced home. There seemed to be fewer people on the streets than usual for the time; she had only passed a couple of men since she left her shift at the Garrison. Despite this, (Y/N) struggled to ignore the uncomfortable gnaw in her stomach that grew with each step.

As she walked, the bite of the cold evening air grew, and she wrapped her coat tighter around her body. Her anxiety briefly gave way to excitement as she remembered she’d be seeing Tommy soon. He was taking her to the pictures this evening, and she had spent all morning poring over her wardrobe, struggling to decide which dress would be more appropriate for their first official date. 

As she turned a familiar corner, she breathed a sigh of relief - only a few more blocks until she was home. Momentarily lost in thought, (Y/N) was torn from her daydream as she spotted a figure ahead of her. She continued ahead, albeit slowly; she was surprised she hadn’t noticed him earlier. The figure took a step towards her. (Y/N) stopped. The feeling of dread returned with a force as she evaluated her situation. She suddenly regretted walking home alone but rationalised that he was probably just another drunk man roaming the streets at twilight. 

Then she heard a faint shuffling behind her. She walked faster, and her breath quickened. Were those footsteps? She couldn’t tell if they were real or imagined. A voice cut through the silence.

“Hello, love.” 

(Y/N) spun around to face whoever spoke to her. She couldn’t see anyone. (Y/N) stood for a moment, peering into the shadows before a whistling from the end of the alleyway prompted (Y/N) to turn back to where the stranger stood, but he had disappeared. Frozen in panic, (Y/N) could hear the thumping of her heart grow louder as she noticed the path ahead was now clear. Immediately, she sprung forward, moving towards the end of the alleyway; she knew that she would be safe once she made it onto the illuminated street beyond the alley.

Suddenly, (Y/N) was yanked backwards, and two strong hands gripped her arms. Another hand clasped over her mouth, muffling her scream. Reflexively, she bit into the flesh, eliciting a cry from behind her. “She fucking bit me!” cried one of the men as she screamed out before another stronger hand clamped over her mouth. 

(Y/N) felt the back of her head connect with brick as she was shoved backwards, the two men now pinning her against the wall as she thrashed against their grip. She continued to scream through the rough hand over her mouth, but unlike the first, the second man wasn’t fazed by her attempts at injuring him. She took a breath and forced herself to calm down and focus on their faces.

Craning her head to the side, she was pleased to find fresh scratches on the man on her left, his wounded hand continuing to drip fresh blood as he held her against the wall. When he realised she had calmed down, the other stronger man stepped before her. He stunk of alcohol; sweat covered his brow, eyes as dark as coal. (Y/N) tried to find the place where she had seen him before. 

“Now you see, no one is coming to save you.” He sneered, releasing his hand from her mouth. 

“Who are you? Why are you doing this?” (Y/N) whimpered, although she recognised the man as soon as he spoke. She had seen him as Arthur kicked him out of the Garrison the week before; apparently, some kind of meeting gone wrong. Tommy had warned her to steer clear. 

“It’s none of your business”, he grunted. “I’m just sending a message. Tell your boss, Mr Shelby, that he-” Before he could finish, (Y/N) instinctively kneed him in the groin. He gasped, momentarily stunned. She seized the opportunity, breaking free from the wall. But the second man reacted fast, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her back.

“Guess you want to do this the hard way,” the first man spat, pushing her harder against the wall. A punch slammed into her ribs, sharp pain radiating through her body as she gasped.

“We might even deliver you right to his doorstep, but don’t worry, we won’t touch your pretty face too much.” Still reeling in pain, (Y/N) sucked in a gasp of air as he shoved her head back into the hard brick. Warmth dripping down the back of her neck alerted her to the severity of her situation as the edges of her vision began to go blurry. Sensing her drop in consciousness, the man gripped her jaw, forcing her to look at him. 

“Hey darling, now don’t go off to sleep just yet… we’ve got so much more to talk about.” He stroked her cheek, and she saw a glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. She felt the other man press the cold blade to her neck. “You better stay awake”.

(Y/N) braced herself as another fist connected with her ribs. She tried to stifle her cry this time, the knife remaining threateningly near. (Y/N) knew that she had one more chance to get ahead of them before her wavering vision betrayed her. As the man before her twisted to prepare another heavy blow, (Y/N) summoned every ounce of strength. She lunged for the knife pressed to her neck, twisting it from the second man’s grip.

Before they could react, she slashed at the arm coming toward her. He screamed, stepping back in shock as blood poured from the deep gash. Without hesitation, (Y/N) turned to the other man, driving the knife into his neck.

Time slowed as he stumbled back, hands reaching up towards the blade as he crumpled backwards.

(Y/N) turned away in shock to find she was alone with this dying man in the alleyway. Her other attacker had managed to flee into the shadows. Part of her wanted to reach out and comfort the man, while the other half knew that the stranger could return at any moment. (Y/N) looked once more at the body on the ground and then up to the end of the alleyway. She needed to make it home. 

~

Tommy was late. He cursed under his breath as he approached (Y/N)’s flat, knowing she’d likely been waiting for him. Knocking on her door, he listened for her response but heard nothing. An uneasy feeling settled in his gut.

“(Y/N)?” he called, peering through the small window. The living room was dark and still. Reaching for the door, his heart raced as he found it unlocked. Withdrawing his hand, he saw blood on the handle. 

“(Y/N)?!” He shouted as he barged into the flat, frantically searching for any sign of an intruder. Immediately, his eyes went to the slumped figure on the couch. 

“Tommy…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

He rushed to her side, cradling her face in his hands, his touch gentle despite the fury boiling inside him. “What happened?” Rough hands delicately caressed her face as he surveyed her injured frame. “(Y/N), fuck! What happened?” His emotions threatening to spill over, he changed his approach. “I’m here; it’s okay”, he breathed as he attempted to sit her up, her head slumping forward. Softly holding her up, he touched the back of her head. “(Y/N), please…” he urged, noting the blood at the base of her skull.

“The man from your meeting… he said he needed to send you a message…” Her words were slurred, and her eyes fluttered.

A wave of guilt crashed over him. He should have been there. He felt her weight shift as she leaned against him, pulling him back to reality. Tommy’s arms gently held her as she fell forward, sinking them to the ground.

“Stay with me, (Y/N),” he begged, his eyes tracing over her frail body, taking in the extent of her injuries. 

Tears filled her eyes. “I think I killed him…”

His breath caught. “You did what you had to do.”

“The other one… he got away…”

(Y/N) could see an unfamiliar glimmer of fear in Tommy’s eyes. “We need to tell Arthur, we need to get you somewhere—Polly’s. I’m so sorry. I should have met you at work; I should have never let you walk home without-” he paused as he felt her trembling hand clasp his. He squeezed it back. 

“Tommy,” she whispered. “You’re here now”.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Oooo you could write something where the reader is injured badly trying to protect Tommy and he realises his feelings for her!

[Tommy Shelby x Reader]

Summary: After months of watching you care for his horses, Tommy Shelby is forced to confront his deeper feelings when you take a bullet meant for him.

The early morning mist clung to the ground like a whisper, weaving through the cobblestone paths of the Shelby estate. The stable door creaked open, and you stepped inside, the familiar scent of hay and leather enveloping you like an old friend. The horses stirred in their stalls, their soft whinnies a gentle greeting to the dawn.

You moved with ease, your hands deftly working through the morning routine. Each brushstroke over their coats, each whispered word of comfort, seemed to ease the tension in the air. The horses responded to your touch, their trust in you evident in the way they nuzzled closer, seeking your gentle affection.

As the sun began to break through the fog, casting golden rays across the stable, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching. You turned to see Tommy Shelby standing in the doorway, his sharp blue eyes surveying the scene. He was a man of contrasts, his stern exterior hiding the complexities within, but there was always a softness in his gaze when he looked at the horses.

“Morning, Mr Shelby,” you greeted him, your voice steady and warm, just like the stable.

"Morning," he replied, his tone as cool and measured as always, but there was a hint of something else there—an unspoken gratitude. "They seem happier when you're around."

You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. "Animals can sense things we often miss. They know when they're safe."

Tommy nodded, stepping closer to one of the horses and running a hand along its mane. "I appreciate what you do here. It means a lot, not just to them." His eyes met yours and you nodded in understanding, feeling a sense of purpose settle within you. 

The day unfolded in a rhythm that was as familiar to you as the heartbeat of a beloved friend. The horses needed feeding, their stalls mucked out, and the tack meticulously cleaned. Each task was not just a chore but a ritual, a carefully choreographed dance that brought order and tranquillity to the stable. Your soft murmurings as you spoke to the horses, offering them reassurance, filled the space with a calming presence that seemed to seep into the very walls.

Tommy had left early, heading out to attend to Shelby business. His quick nod in your direction was a silent acknowledgment of the trust he placed in your care. The quiet of the stable settled around you like a comforting blanket, punctuated only by the occasional nicker or the rustle of hay.

Hours slipped by as the sun ascended higher into the sky, casting long shadows that gradually shifted with the passage of time. You worked steadily, methodically, your hands never still for long. Each horse received your undivided attention, your gentle touch and soft words a soothing balm to their spirits.

As the afternoon wore on, you took a moment to rest, leaning against the stable door, a cool breeze brushing against your face. The horizon was painted with hues of gold and pink as the sun began its descent, signalling the end of another day. But your work was not yet done.

The horses needed their evening feed, and you moved with quiet determination, the rhythm of your work a soothing pattern. You filled the troughs, ensuring each horse had enough before turning your attention to the last few tasks of the day. The stable was quiet now, the horses content and settled for the night.

A lantern hung from a hook near the door, casting a warm glow as the sky darkened. You moved through the stable, checking each stall, making sure everything was in order. The familiar creak of the stable door signaled your exit, but you paused, taking one last look around. The sense of peace, the calm after a day’s hard work, filled you with a quiet satisfaction.

As you closed the stable door behind you, the sound of footsteps on the gravel path caught your attention. You turned to see Tommy approaching, his silhouette outlined against the dusky sky. He looked tired, the weight of the day’s events evident in his posture, but his eyes softened when they met yours.

“Stayed late again, did you?” he asked, his voice low but carrying a note of appreciation.

You nodded, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Wanted to make sure everything was done right.”

Tommy stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the stable and then back to you. “I can always count on you. Thank you.”

There was a warmth in his words, a rare glimpse of the man behind the mask. You smiled, feeling a sense of pride in the trust he placed in you. “It’s my pleasure, Tommy.”

The evening air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the promise of a quiet night. 

“Get some rest,” Tommy said, his voice carrying that rare note of warmth. “You’ve earned it.”

You smiled, feeling the familiar sense of satisfaction from a day well spent. “Goodnight, Tommy.”

Just as you turned to leave, a flicker of movement caught your eye. Two shadows detached themselves from the deeper darkness beyond the stable, moving with a predatory silence. The glint of metal in the dim light sent a shock of fear through you, freezing you in place for a heartbeat. Your heart pounded in your chest as you realised the danger, adrenaline surging through your veins.

“Tommy!” you shouted, but your voice was drowned out by the sudden explosion of sound—a gunshot that shattered the stillness of the night.

Instinct took over, and you threw yourself in front of him, your body acting as a shield. The impact of the bullet was like fire, searing through your flesh with a pain unlike anything you had ever felt. You crumpled to the ground, the world spinning around you in a haze of agony and confusion, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth.

Tommy’s eyes widened in shock, a mixture of fury and horror contorting his features. He reached for the gun tucked inside his coat, his movements quick and resolute. With deadly precision, he fired off shots, the deafening cracks of the pistol echoing in the night. The assailants fell, their bodies hitting the ground with a finality that reverberated through the still night air.

With the immediate threat neutralised, Tommy’s attention snapped back to you. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as they hovered over your wound, unsure where to touch without causing you more pain. His face was a mask of anguish, the strong facade crumbling in the face of your suffering.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” he demanded, his voice raw with emotion. “Why would you fuckin’ do that!?”

You managed a weak smile, your breath coming in shallow gasps. “Had to… protect you…”

His eyes blazed with a mix of anger and something deeper, something more vulnerable. “Damn it, don’t you dare die on me,” he growled, his hands finally pressing against your wound to stem the bleeding. “You hear me? Stay with me.”

The pain was overwhelming, each throb a jagged reminder of your mortality, but the intensity of his gaze anchored you, kept you from slipping into unconsciousness. You could see the fear in his eyes, the realisation of just how much you meant to him, emotions laid bare in the face of imminent loss.

Tommy’s voice softened, the anger giving way to desperation. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

You reached up, your fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek, smearing a streak of blood. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, fighting to keep your eyes open, clinging to consciousness with sheer willpower.

The sound of hurried footsteps approached, and you vaguely registered the voices of other Shelby men, alerted by the commotion. Tommy barked orders, his authority clear even in the chaos.

“Get a doctor! Now!”

As the world began to fade, you held onto the sound of his voice, the strength in his grip, and the fierce determination in his eyes. You had protected him, and in that moment, you knew that whatever happened, you had done the right thing.

The last thing you heard before darkness claimed you was Tommy’s voice, low and urgent, a promise wrapped in a plea. “Stay with me. Please.”

And then, there was nothing but the comforting oblivion of unconsciousness, the pain slipping away into the darkness. The world fell silent, but the warmth of his touch lingered, a beacon of hope in the encroaching void.

Darkness enveloped you, a cocoon of nothingness where the pain no longer reached. Slowly, awareness began to seep back into your consciousness, a gentle tug pulling you towards the surface. The first thing you noticed was the softness beneath you—a bed, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold, hard ground you remembered hitting.

Your senses were sluggish, the world around you coming back in fragments. A soft rustle of fabric, the distant crackling of a fireplace, the faint scent of tobacco and something more personal—Tommy's cologne, familiar and comforting. You tried to open your eyes, but they felt heavy, as if weighed down by the events that had transpired.

With a monumental effort, you managed to lift your eyelids, the dim light of the room seeping in. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, adorned with intricate mouldings that spoke of a different time, a different place. Slowly, your gaze travelled down, taking in the rich, dark wood of the furniture, the heavy drapes drawn against the night outside.

It wasn’t a hospital room. You were in a bedroom, opulent and yet somehow intimate. Panic started to rise, but then you felt it—a presence, a silent guardian watching over you. You turned your head slightly, wincing at the sharp pain that flared up with the movement.

Tommy sat in a chair beside the bed, his posture rigid, eyes fixed on you with an intensity that took your breath away. His usually immaculate suit was slightly dishevelled, the tie loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up, and a shadow of stubble darkening his jawline. He looked tired, the weight of worry etched into the lines of his face.

“Tommy…” Your voice was barely a whisper, hoarse and weak.

His eyes softened at the sound of your voice, relief washing over his features. He leaned forward, the chair creaking slightly as he moved. “You’re awake,” he said, his voice low and rough, as if he’d been speaking to the darkness, willing you to wake up.

You tried to sit up, but the pain was too much, forcing you back down with a gasp. Tommy was instantly at your side, a hand on your shoulder, gentle but firm, keeping you still.

“Don’t move,” he commanded softly. “You’re hurt. You need to rest.”

You nodded weakly, the simple act of moving your head sending another wave of pain through you. “What… what happened?” you managed to ask.

Tommy’s jaw tightened, a flicker of anger passing through his eyes before he masked it. “You were shot,” he said bluntly. “But you’re going to be alright. The doctor said you were lucky. The bullet missed anything vital.”

You swallowed hard, the memories rushing back. The ambush, the gunfire, the pain. And then… “Why am I here?” you asked, your voice barely more than a breath.

Tommy’s gaze softened, and he reached out, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. The touch was surprisingly tender, a stark contrast to the hard exterior he usually presented. “I couldn’t risk taking you to a hospital,” he explained. “Too many eyes. It’s safer here.”

You nodded slowly, understanding dawning. He had brought you to his home, to his sanctuary, where he could keep you safe. “Thank you,” you whispered, the words inadequate to convey the depth of your gratitude.

Tommy’s expression softened further, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. “You saved my life,” he said quietly. “I owe you everything.”

You managed a weak smile, your hand reaching out to grasp his. “We’re even then.”

Tommy’s hand tightened around yours, a silent promise passing between you. “Rest now,” he murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Before you could succumb to the pull of sleep, you found the strength to speak again. “Tommy… why did you stay?”

He hesitated, a shadow crossing his face. “Because I needed to make sure you were alright. I couldn’t leave you.”

There was something in his voice, a depth of emotion that you hadn’t heard before. “You care about me,” you said softly, more a statement than a question.

Tommy’s eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze almost overwhelming. “Let’s just say,” he began, his voice low and measured, “some things are more important than business.”

Your heart swelled at his words, the pain momentarily forgotten. “Tommy…”

He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “Get some rest,” he murmured, his voice tender, laced with an unspoken promise. “We’ll talk more when you’re feeling better.”

As you closed your eyes, the pain receded into the background, replaced by the warmth of Tommy's presence. Sleep came more easily this time, the exhaustion and the reassurance of his words pulling you into a peaceful slumber.

Tommy remained by your side, his hand still enveloping yours. He watched over you, his mind racing with thoughts he had long kept buried. The room was silent save for the rhythmic crackling of the fireplace and your even breathing, a symphony of quiet that offered him a rare moment of peace.

He leaned back into the chair, his gaze never leaving your face. The world outside could wait; his responsibilities, his empire, all of it seemed distant and insignificant compared to the simple act of being here with you. He thought of the many times he had brushed off his feelings, convinced himself that there were more pressing matters at hand. But now, as he sat here in the stillness of the night, he realised how wrong he had been.

[writers-hes]

In the Bleak Midwinter

SYNOPSIS: You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn't realize that war could change you both. (angst, abuse, canon-typical themes, death, war, MDNI, mature themes) AN: Don’t look at the comments / reblogs if you don’t want spoilers!! But please discuss what you think once you’re done reading 🤍

Toy Horses Outside the Brothel | Tommy Shelby x Reader | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

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“So fucking close…” he whispers to himself, inhaling. He turns around and looks up, maybe he could conjure you right now. One last time before he died. “Oh and there’s a woman…a woman who I love and I got close. Nearly got fucking everything!” he shouts. “Oh, what the fuck. Get it done, boys,” he tells them. He kneels before the man. 

“In the bleak midwinter…” Tommy says to himself, voice raspy and tired. “In the bleak midwinter…” he whispers to himself, his body shaking. He didn’t know where he was. He just knew that he was going to get killed today. The hole on the ground is where he’ll be buried and he never got the chance to be with you. “In the bleak…in—“

He couldn’t die today. Dread fills his body. You were still at the tracks with Simon. This wasn’t a part of the plan. He was supposed to kill Simon. He was supposed to have fun while doing it while you sat, unaware with Alfie Solomons in the private room. Sweat trickles on his face, and he closes his eyes. The blood on his forehead had dried up and his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He couldn’t believe that the last thing he ever did on this fucking ground was smoke a cigarette. So close. So close…so fucking close. 

The sound of a gun going off echoes in the vast field and he finds himself inside the hole. He stays there, appalled. 

“Get out of the grave, tinker! Be on your fucking way!”

He stumbles out, unbalanced. Shock was still inside his body. He trips and lands on his face, his palms on the wet ground and he screams. So fucking close. He shakes his head, standing up and sobbing as he did so, on the way home…on the way to you. 

He pours himself a glass of Irish whisky. He’s got some ideas for the future of the company…and also, he’s planning on getting something. 

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan, earth stood hard as iron…

BIRMINGHAM, 1922

Tommy couldn’t believe his fucking luck. How many times does he have to wait for things to finally fucking settle? How many more years should he wait for you? He didn’t mind—how could he ever mind when it came to you? 

He couldn’t forget the relief that washed over him when Alfie called him to say that the job’s been done. He was supposed to get the locket in his office and go to the tracks but Alfie stopped him. 

“Y/N killed Simon Coventry,” Alfie said. “Shot him dead like…mush, bone, mush. Saw her checking for his heartbeat after. I told her not to cry over spilled milk,” he snickers. “Do you get it, mate? Spilled milk?”

He tells Tommy about how shaken you were after the police investigation…how you kept it to yourself until the last officer went out. You were wailing and stuttering ‘he’s dead’ over and over. Alfie told him that he will get one of his men to send the gun to his office for safekeeping. Tommy knew that he should give you some time but he couldn’t wait anymore. He knew that you sold your London mansion and lived in Birmingham now. He knew that you bought the mansion with the garden; the one where you both used to frequent in as kids. He knew that all because he had some of the Blinders guard the property from afar. He knew that all because he passed by the house to get a glimpse of you but the house was quiet, eerie, and lacked life. Polly nor Ada couldn’t get in yet. It all happened too much…too fast…in a span of years, to have Simon dead at the sound of a gun was shocking. 

It’s been a year and he couldn’t believe he waited that long to come visit you when he knows you the most. He shakes with anticipation everyday. He was looking forward to seeing you last year, to finally telling you all about his love for you. Maybe it was him who needed you more because you made your own world without him, but he couldn’t give a fuck anymore. You’ve both been apart for what felt like decades and he will burn the world if he’s apart from you for a day more. 

It was raining and he drove to your house in his black car. The mansion with a garden. How foolish you both were when you dreamed those dreams. Life was never that easy. Blood was shed, lives were taken for his ambition. It didn’t matter right now. Not in this second. The rain just gets stronger. He forgot his umbrella but it didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered right now. He could see your figure from the back of the house looking through the French windows of your new home. Funny, you both got what you wanted. He got the Arrow House and you had this manor but they were both so fucking lifeless. He imagined a different house. He imagined a house with kids, with you during the war. He was looking at you and frowned when he saw you leave. Should he knock at the door? Should he just go back? Did you even want to see him?

Drops of rain wet his coat and he removed his Peaky hat, tossing it away to fix his hair. He should’ve gotten an umbrella. His shoes slosh with every step and the chill eats away his bones but he will be warm soon.  

Thunder wakes the Birmingham sky and he sees you…a few metres away from him in your dress. 

“Tommy!” you called, an umbrella in your hand. You rushed towards him to give him shelter from the rain. The mud from the grass made your bare feet wet but you didn’t care. Tommy was here…he was finally here. He meets you halfway, underneath your black umbrella. He smiles, chest against yours. 

“We can’t fit,” he chuckled, a glimmer of the youth that you used to see in his eyes appearing. “Y/N,”

“Tommy,” you replied, a bashful smile on your face. “Let’s go inside,” you tell him but he holds your arm to keep you from leaving. “Tom?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his hand coming up to touch your face but he wasn’t sure. Was it alright to touch you now? “I—I,” he tries to think of words to say, every single emotion getting trapped in his throat. He coughs, shaking his head. “I miss you,”

A single tear trails down your cheek and you wipe it away. 

“Looks like the world is finally quiet,” you replied, smiling at him. “I’ve missed you too, Tom,” you chuckled, laying your head on his chest. “I’ve missed you so, so, so much,”

He nods, wrapping his arms around you. You look at him again, a small smile on your face. 

“Did you know that…that—“ he coughs. Fuck.

“Tommy?”

“I’ve always thought of ways to tell you this back in the war and I just—I guess the delays and everything and fuck, love. I’ve loved you since we played with your toy horses outside the brothel,” he breathes out. “And I’m sorry, so, so fucking sorry that it took me so long to tell you. That you had to go through all that because you thought that I didn’t love you when I did. I’ve loved you since then and I still love you now. I love you and I just hope that I’m not too late because God, Y/N. You were the one who saved me..who protected me all these years and I can’t lose you again,” he tells you, his hands cradling your face. “I thought…I thought I was going to die when Sabini’s men took me, Y/N and all I could think of was you. How were you? Were you free? You were the only one in my head. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I love you, Y/N. I love you so, so much,” he adds tenderly, his forehead against yours. You were smiling at him, tears streaming down your face. Tommy loves you. Tommy loves you. 

“I love you too, Tommy,” you whispered. “I’ve loved you all this time. I can’t believe we’re finally here,” you smiled at him. Tommy throws away the umbrella in your hand. He takes your chin with his fingers gently. Tommy could feel his heart beat faster and faster. He knew that if he'd kiss you now, he’d dream of your beautiful face and soft lips forever. With bated breath, he takes in your expressions, trying to look for any signs of doubt but he couldn’t see it. Is this how it’s like to kiss the face of an angel? He licks his lips and then…and then, he kisses you. He was reborn. His reincarnation was complete. Earthly lifetimes before this had nothing on the life that he will build with you. He loves you. You love him. Tommy kisses you with years of passion and tenderness in his heart. The crease on his brows melts away and your whimpering sounded like God whispering to his ear. Nevermind the rain, nevermind everything. You were here and so was he. 

-

Tommy’s been staying over at your house ever since you professed your love for each other. He’d leave in the morning to attend to some business and then come back in the afternoon, shedding layers of today’s work into your arms. 

“How are you so beautiful?” he asks in hushed tones. His finger trails down your cheek gently. “I love you,”

“Tommy,” you chuckled. “You’ve been showering me with praise.”

“I’ve been waiting all my life to say these things to you, love. I’ll make up for those lost years everyday.” 

“I love you, Tommy,” you told him, rising from your position to kiss his cheek. “I don’t think I can love anyone else as much as I love you,”

“Pol knows about us,” he whispers. “I think John and Arthur are wondering where I’m always off to because they never see me home,”

“Nothing escapes past her,” you told him. “I miss her…I still can’t believe she intercepted those letters. I don’t know…I can’t hold a grudge against her but I can’t…”

“It’s alright. I understand,” he replied. “Took me a while to get over it too because…because if she didn’t, we’d have all of this earlier,”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me before?”

“I wanted to tell you before I left but I can’t make you wait for me that long. I knew I was coming back to you but what if I couldn’t?” he asked. He holds your body closer to him. The hushed tones that you spoke in made the bedroom so homey, comfortable, and nice. His chin falls on the top of your head. “Why didn’t you tell me that you loved me?”

“I didn’t want you to love me,” you told him. “I was a prostitute, Tom and I…I don’t want to love you when I can’t give you all of me,” you whispered.

“It wouldn’t have mattered. I would have done something to make sure that you wouldn’t have to do any of that.” he said. He takes your fingers into his, weaving his with yours. 

-

“Are you off to see Y/N again?” Polly asked, sipping on her tea while she watched her nephew fix his coat. Tommy patted himself down, making sure that everything was in place. 

“Of course, Pol,” he smiles. “Off to see my woman,”

“Can…can you tell her that she’s invited for Sunday’s dinner?” Polly asked, wiping her worries away by rubbing her hands. “I’ve missed her. The family misses her,”

“I’ll try to,” Tommy replied. “But don’t expect anything, Pol,”

“Of course,” she replied. Her lips pursed together. “I wanted to tell her about…how sorry I am for the things I’ve done. It should have been your decision to stay in touch and not mine, no matter how much I justify it. I—I feel as though it was my fault for putting her through all of that, Tom,”

“Thank you, Pol,” Tommy nodded. 

“What has she been up to these days?” she asked.

“Fixing her estate and her properties,” he replied. “She’s been mostly cooped inside the house,” Polly only nods to herself, unsure of what to say. Tommy leaves with a click of his tongue. 

When he arrived at your house, you were in your office, sorting through some of the documents Simon left you. You look up at him from where you were sitting with a smile and he takes that as a sign to come closer. He kisses your shoulder lightly before reading over the documents. 

“You want to rest?” he asked, voice husky. He puts his hands on your shoulders and massages you gently. 

“Thanks, Tommy,”

“Polly’s inviting you to come to Sunday’s dinner,” he says. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to nor do you have to answer now. Ada’s gonna be there along with Karl. John and the kids…Arthur and Finn. Pol and then, me,”

Tommy kisses the top of your head, watching you sort through the papers. 

“Can I…can I think about it?” you asked him. You could see how important it is to him but you couldn’t agree just because he’s Tommy. It didn’t work that way anymore. He hums, satisfied with your reply before sitting on the chair adjacent to the table. 

“Anything I can do to help?” he asked. 

“Just…some of his unsettled accounts,” you sighed. “I want them paid to avoid issues,” you told him. He takes a document and reads it over. Oh. “I want to start a foundation for children or at least, fund an orphanage and a school,” 

“Do it,” he tells you. “Simon has left a considerable amount of properties to last generations.”

“What time should I go to Arrow House for Sunday’s dinner?” you asked. Tommy halts and looks at you with a grateful smile. 

“I’ll come get you,” he says, kissing your cheek. “Thank you. I know it’s not easy,” he tells you. You only nod, if Tommy can look at you like that again, then a thousand awkward dinners don’t mean a thing. 

-

Sunday comes and you stand at the door of Arrow House with his hand on your back. He could see you fumble nervously. You almost looked shy. An amused smile graces his face. Why would you be so shy when you’ve told John off multiple times? You helped raise Finn. Ada basically considers you as a sister. You were the only person that Arthur respects. Polly thinks of you as her daughter. 

“Are you ready?” he asks, his raspy voice coating you like honey. You nod and he chuckles, opening the door to his mansion.

The Shelbys were everywhere. Ada was running after Karl and John’s kids. Arthur was laughing at something that John probably said. Polly was nowhere to be found, probably fussing in the kitchen. 

“See? It’s like you never left,” he comforts you. He knows better than to have the attention all on you so he tries to slip past everyone without being noticed. Still, your arrival was much awaited and soon enough, you were engulfed in strong arms.

“Y/N!” John greets, hugging you tighter. “Oh, everyone! Y/N’s here!” he announces and you chuckle. 

“John…” Tommy warns but before his little brother can let you go, Arthur slings an arm around your shoulder. 

“How are you, dove?” he asked. 

“I’ve been well,” you replied. Ada comes next, shooing her brothers away to have you all to herself. 

“Y/N. It’s been so long since we last saw each other. You loom as radiant as ever! I hope my idiot brother’s treating you well, hm?” she asked, pointedly looking at an amused Tommy who was leaning by the fireplace. “Seriously, how are you? Are you doing well?” she asks in a  more serious tone.

“I am,” you replied. “Sorry it took me a year to recover,” you replied. 

“We understand, Y/N. We could’ve waited longer but Tommy here couldn’t. He was so fidgety!” she chuckled. “Basically pissed on everyone for a whole year! He almost got in a brawl with Arthur. That’s how miserable Tommy was but then again, you’ve never really seen Tommy being aggressive,”

“I haven’t,” you replied. Honestly, you were so glad that Tommy kept his gang and violence from you. You’ve never seen him land a punch even though you knew that he slept beside a gun. 

“Thank you for coming, though,” Ada says. “We all missed you and we wanted to come visit you but Tommy warned us to give you time and space until you’re ready after what happened,”

“You know that I’m always happy to be here. Everything was just too much at so little time, Ada,” you replied. “I’m sorry if I ever made it seem like I didn’t want you to be with me when I moved back here. I needed room to grow and heal,”

“You don’t have to apologise, Y/N. In any case, I actually feel quite guilty for the things that I allowed myself to put you through. All of us played a part in your marriage with Simon Coventry. I just…if you’re being forced or if there’s an inkling that you don’t want to be with Tommy—“

“Ada!” you laughed lightly. It puts a smile on her face. How long has it been since you laughed like that? “I’m alright. I love Tommy and I love your family. There’s not a day that I don’t want to see him. I’m always looking forward to his visits and when he can't, I still do the same anyway.” you told her. 

“That’s great,” she smiled. “I’m happy for you, Y/N. Tommy’s really lucky,”

You were so engrossed with your conversation with Ada that you didn’t see Polly approaching. It was Ada who called Polly over. Tension settles on your spine; creeping up like ice. Your throat dries and Ada coughs. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” she says, smiling at you encouragingly before leaving. Polly walks towards you cautiously, scared that she’ll scare you. You smile at her tightly, your cheeks hurting from the control. 

“I…” you sighed, looking away. “I know that you want what is best for me but you didn’t have to intercept the letters,” you started. “I know that we didn’t know when Tommy’s coming back…or if he’s coming back and you wanted me to take the opportunity to–”

“Y/N,” she stops you, a soft hand on your crossed arms. “You don’t have to defend me. I’m so sorry for what happened and for what I did. I had no right to do what I did. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be happy…you’d–” she chokes. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she whispers, a stray tear on her face. She tries to shake it off. “I’m really sorry. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me someday,”

“But I forgive you, Pol,” you told her. “It was hard to do so and it’s harder to repair what we lost but you can’t blame yourself for the things that Simon did. We both didn’t know,” you told her. “Thank you for apologising and…thank you for always looking out for me,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, so sorry,” she cried. She could feel her throat tighten and her eyes glisten. You smiled at her. Maybe this was what you needed to finally close that part in your life.

The afternoon was filled with reunions and with warmth. A regular weekend at the Shelby’s, just like when you and Tommy were younger. Oh how you’ve missed them–how you’ve missed having a family. 

-

The night was quiet at the Arrow House. Everybody left at the sight of nightfall, dimming laughter filling the halls. You and Tommy were at the drawing room in the second storey of his mansion, looking at the cars that left one by one. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, his chin on the crook of your neck. He breathes in and kisses what he could kiss. 

“You alright?” he asked, pulling you closer. 

“Very,” you told him. “Made me realise how much I missed having your family around…I miss having a family,” 

“You are a part of us, you know that, right?” he asked.

“I know,” you replied, laying closer to him. 

“You can be a part of us. A real Shelby,” he whispers. “Y/N, look at me,” he asks of you, removing his hands gently and turning your around.

“Tommy?”

“Did you know Polly told me that only love can blind a man as powerful as me?” he asked. “I realised that wasn’t the case. It was you all along, love. My love for you is secondary. You’re the one who makes me weak, who makes me blind. I love you so much. I’ll burn the world if it means that you’re safe, you’re with me, and you’re happy. Y/N, do you want to be a Shelby?” he asked. He pulls out a ring from his bolster shakily. You’ve never seen him nervous. “I’ve held onto this for so long. This was the first thing I bought when I came back from war,” he says. The gold ring with a single diamond glimmers. “I thought of getting you something else…a bigger diamond, maybe but material things don’t matter to me anymore. The only thing I can promise is my love, my loyalty. I am the only thing I can promise you. I’m quite scared because if you’ll marry me, you’ll marry a man and you will marry a curse. I can’t…I can’t go on like this anymore. I can’t go on without you anymore. It’s selfish, I know but will you marry me, Y/N?” he asked. You stood there, dumbfounded. 

“Tommy–of course, I’ll marry you,” you replied, tears streaming down your face. “I’ve loved you for so long,” you chuckled, extending your hand towards his equally shaky ones. He puts the ring on your ring finger. It has always belonged to you. “I’ll marry you right now. Oh, Tom,” you cried, kissing him feverishly. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. Is this life even real?

“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he rasps and you nod. He holds your hand with his gentle ones and sits you on the bed. He smiles at you in the dimming light of his bedroom. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He was afraid to see you disappear if he was too loud. “So beautiful for me,” he says, tucking a stray hair and kissing the spot under your ear. You hum, fishing for the buttons of his shirt and he chuckles, forcefully removing it from himself. 

“Tom,” you whispered, unbuttoning your dress. He nods, leaning on the headboard and letting you straddle him. The softness of your skin against his was sending him over the edge but he chooses to control himself. He lets your dress and brassiere fall on your shoulders, your breasts bare to him. He angles himself, taking a nipple in his mouth and licking it softly. You whimpered, the feeling of his mouth on one of the most sensitive parts of your body was something that you never thought was going to happen. 

“Is it alright if I bite?” he asked and you nodded. “Say it. Come on, love,”

“Do whatever you want to me, Tommy,” you mewled, hands massaging your silky breasts while he sucks on your nipple.

“Fuck, love,” He groans at your response, bucking his hips unexpectedly. “The things you do to a man, Y/N. The things you do to me,” his hands travel on your sides, goosebumps appearing from the softness of his touch. Tommy cups your heat through your underwear. “Remove your dress for me,”

You nod, the cold hitting you all at once when you raised yourself from him. He watches the fabric flow so softly until you are left with nothing but your underwear. 

“Remove that too,” he says, and you nodded. “You’re so obedient, Y/N,” he praises. “May I?” he asked and you nodded, a thick finger dipping in your wetness. You both moaned at the contact before he removed it slowly. You watched as he brought his finger up to his mouth, making a show of licking you off of him. “You’re so sweet,” 

“Tommy,” you whimpered. “Don’t tease me,” 

“Alright, alright,” he replied. You remove yourself from him, laying down on the bed with your legs spread wide. He can see your pussy glisten and he curses himself, removing his pants hastily before joining you. “Spit,” he orders you, his hand waiting expectedly by your mouth. You obliged and watched him jerk himself off. “Tell me what you want, Y/N,” he says. 

“Tommy–”

“Please,” he begs. “I’ll do it. I’ll fucking do it,”

“I want you to make love to me, Tommy,” you whimpered. “Please show me how much you love me,” 

“Oh, love,” he groans. Tommy comes towards you, so close, so warm. His hands found your knees and he caressed your knees. “You're so beautiful, darling,” 

“Tom,” you mewled. His prying fingers found your heat. He cups your mound and then parts your folds, rubbing them up and down. He smiles at you, leaning over your figure until his nose brushes yours. 

“Hey,” he tells you. He watches you closely and he wonders why he never had the courage to tell you how much he loved you earlier. The curve of your lips, the lashes on your eyes…he wanted to memorise every part of you and commemorate it. He leans down, his mouth on your mouth, kissing you so slowly. This is love, you thought. Tommy nudges your legs wider apart, his tip pressing into your wetness. “Fuck, love,” he rasps, rutting into your more roughly.

“I need you inside me, Tom,” you breathed. He nods, aligning himself on your wet slit. He feels the anticipation run through his veins. He never would have even dreamed of this. In a slow stroke, Tommy’s cock finds its way inside easily; years of longing, passion, and pent-up emotions seeping through your pores. 

“You’re, ugh—“ he groans. Fuck. “Don’t fucking move yet. I’ll—“

“Tom—“ you mewled, grinding on his pelvis in circles. You felt full; you felt complete. 

“Love, please,” he begs. “Let me…let me savour this. Want this to last,” He feels your body relax and he sighs. Really, if he decided to move now, he’s only going to embarrass himself. He curses to himself, ashamed that he had to pull himself back a little bit. “I’m going to move, yeah?” he asked and you could only nod. Tommy leans his figure over yours, his lips landing on your nipple. He licks on it lightly as he adjusts himself. He pulls out slowly, before going back in slowly. 

You both moan in unison. Tommy continues his movements while he sucked on your nipple. Your hands find their way to his hair, pulling it softly. 

“I love you, Tom,” you whimpered,feeling his cock rubbing inside. “I love you so much,”

“Mmm,” he only hums, his attention on your other nipple now. Your fingers find their way onto your clitoris and you rub circles on it while Tommy fucks you deeper. “Fuck,” he groans, breaking away from the comfort of your arms and leaning back. He removes your hand and raises one of your legs. You watched as Tommy fucks you faster, but now it was deeper and you felt more full because of your new position. “Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his thumb coming in contact with your clit.

“Tommy,” you moaned when you felt his rough thumb rubbing circles. “Fuck, I—“ 

“It’s alright, darling. I will take —good—care—of—you,” he said, thrusting harder into you to make his point. “You won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You have me…your Tommy,”

“My Tommy,” you whispered, as if it was a new concept when Tommy knew that he belonged to you from the very start. Still, hearing the words come from your mouth excites him. 

“Say it again,”

“My Tommy,” you repeated. “Fuck, Tommy,” you mewled, pinching your nipples together. 

“Fuck, you want me to fuck babies into you?” he asked, quickening his pace. 

“Yes, Tommy, please!” you whimpered. “Going to make you a daddy,”

“I’m going to make love to you everyday and cum inside your pretty pussy, yeah?” he rasps, his cock fucking your wet pussy harder. “Oh fuck,”

The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin, your wetness welcoming him with every thrust fills the room. You were both high, moans and grunts filling every crevice of the room. Tommy fucks you sloppier while your fingers play with your clit. 

“I’m close, ugh—Tommy,” you grunted. “Tom, Tom, Tommy,”

“Let go, love,” he whimpered. “Go on,” 

His words fuelled you and you released a high pitched moan as he felt your walls clench around him. The feeling of your pussy milking him sends him into overdrive and you feel it. You felt his warm cum coating your walls.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he moans, thrusting his hips into you even more to chase his orgasm. “I love you. I fucking love you,” he rasps, collapsing into you.

“I love you, Tommy,” you replied, playing with the soft tendrils of his hair. He lays there, unmoving, his softening cock still inside you. 

“Let’s stay like this forever,” he says, kissing your breast. 

“Alright,”

“Now, you’ve seen me,”

“And you’ve seen me,”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1925

“Tom!” you shrieked, looking at the muddy footprints that stained your white carpet. Over the last few years, you both decided that it would be best to stay at your place instead of the Arrow House. You both agreed that it was too dark and too lonely. It was so unlike the lush gardens, the water fountain, and the scurrying feet of the maids in your house. Besides, Tommy liked it here better. It was brighter, happier, and his nephews and nieces loved to visit. 

“Oh no,” he hears a child say. “Oh, no, no, no,”

“Shh,” he crouches down to her height. “If we’re quiet, mum won’t see us,”

“Thomas Shelby! I told you to leave the boots outside whenever you’re out with the horses,” 

“Dad—I don’t want to get mummy mad,” she whispers. “Let’s say sorry,”

Tommy looks at his daughter with wonder in his eyes. He never knew he’d love someone else as much as he loves you.

“Alright,” he nods, bracing himself. “Come on,”

His daughter holds his hands and gets out of the hiding place. She immediately cowers behind her father when she sees the hand on your hip.

“It was dad’s fault!” you heard her say, running towards you and hugging your legs. “Daddy did it!”

You frowned at Tommy but he could see the smile that dared to crack. 

“Oh, bub. Where’s your loyalty to your old man, hmm?” he asked, a hand over his heart. “Darling, I must let you know that…” he trailed off kissing your cheek first. “Our daughter here is a natural,”

“Tommy…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, massaging the crease between your eyebrows. “We’re sorry, right, bub?” he asked your little girl. She nodded, looking up at you. “Traitor,” Tommy whispers to himself before ruffling her hair. 

“Just don’t do it again, alright?” you asked him. 

BIRMINGHAM, 1913

“Do you think there’s a future where the two of us can be together?” Tommy asked. Upon seeing your panicked reaction, he coughs. “What I meant is…that we’ll still be like this,”

“Of course, we will,” you replied. “Only better…because by that time, we won’t have to worry about anything anymore because we’re together.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Tommy. You’re the most important person in my life. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you too,” you replied, looking at him, trying to look for his reaction. You looked away when you saw the ghost of a smile paint his features. He’s always been so handsome. 

“You won’t,” he replied, taking your hand to make that promise. “You won’t ever lose me,” he tells you. 

“I guess, I won’t.”

END A/N: I am so sorry for taking so long to upload this. I really am sorry. I'll be uploading a separate author's not soon. But for now, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash @sweetwanderlust05 @globetrotter28 @thebestandworstdayofjune @reggxe-a @verreuckteli @vampireluck @zoexme @liter4ti @quixscentsposts @homosexualjohnwayne @charli123456789 @Maria_elizabeth21

[shiny-starz]

Welcome to starz corner~

⭐️-Hi hi! I’m starz, and I’m a new writer!! I’m looking forward to starting this new journey, and would love to take you guys along with me!

⭐️-Currently taking requests!!

Information🌷🫧✨

⭐️-what fandoms I’ll write for:

I mostly write for Tv and movie characters, but I’m fine with writing anything other then that.

⭐️- what I will not write:

As of now, I’m not really comfortable with writing smut, but I think I can write some works including a little spice but nothing too overboard.

⭐️- what I will write:

Other then what I stated in the ‘will not write’ section, I’m comfortable with anything you guys request/come up with!

Requists🌷🫧✨

⭐️- don’t be afraid to explain in detail about what you want. The more details you provide me the better!

⭐️- fandoms I’m starting off with:

Peaky blinders

Call of duty

The maze runner

(Again, I can try writing for other fandoms!)

⭐️-my Ask box isn’t only for requests, I’d love to get to know you guys and converse with you!! So don’t be afraid to reach out!!

Thank you for stopping by lovelies!✨🌷

[graveyard-stray]

Since you returned || Thomas Shelby x F!Reader

Includes: Angst, PTSD, mentions of war, violence, and death, mentions of NSFW topics (briefly), swearing and yelling, rejection if you squint, fluff at the end <3

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I literally JUST started Peaky Blinders and had to write this so if any details are wrong please forgive me!!

NOT PROOFREAD

You and Thomas Shelby had some- history to say the least.

You were practically apart of the Shelby family. Ever since you could walk you were best friends with Arthur, John, Finn, Ada, and of course- Tommy. You were the same age as Ada and grew up next door to the family so you spent lots of time with her, and in turn also her brothers.

You could almost always be found running around the street with the Shelby children, playing stupid games or causing a bit of trouble. The brothers never seemed to really care that you and Ada were girls. I mean sure they would be protective over you with danger or boys, but they didn’t exclude you or limit the activities just cause of your gender- and for this time period, that meant a lot.

Tommy in particular, you had always taken an interest in. He was quieter than the other brothers, and a bit smarter too. He was calm and calculated but also fun and sweet. You knew you could always go to him if you needed something and he had no problem getting into fights to protect you and Ada.

It was a very prominent memory in your mind, the day you realized your crush on Tommy. It was your 13th birthday and he was the first Shelby to arrive at your home to wish you a happy birthday. Even before Ada, who you could only assume was running around with her little boyfriend. Of course you didn’t mind though.

But it was your birthday and you were home alone as your mother was away at work and your father had been dead for years, and you heard a knock on your door. You got up from the table where you sat eating some breakfast and strode towards the door, upon opening it you see a 16 year old Tommy standing infront of you. He smiled down at you. “I believe I owe you, a Happy Birthday” He said rather smug and sarcastically but in a fun and playful manner.

You couldn’t help the smile that emerged from your face as he pulled you into a quick hug, once he drew away from you, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a small box wrapped with some ribbon, “And a little gift for you, of course.” he held the box out towards you. Your face tinted a bit pink as you looked down “oh Tommy you really didn’t have to get me anything.” You insisted. “Oh but of course I did, your 13 years old today, practically an old woman now!” He joked, causing you to giggle sweetly.

You grabbed the box from his hands and unwrapped the ribbon carefully. Your smile grew wide as you opened the box to see a silver bracelet inside. You weren’t sure if it was real but you’d didn’t care of course. What meant a lot to you was the fact it was silver. Everyone usually gave you things colored gold, but you really didn’t like gold. You were just too nice to say anything. Except once- mentioning it offhandedly. You didn’t think any one heard but…he did. He always heard you when you spoke.

“It’s silver, since I know you don’t like gold all that much.” Tommy mentioned as he observed your reaction to the gift. You smiled widely up at him and quickly wrapped your arms around him in another hug. He smiled and hugged you back.

After he left you realized his kindness. He was always kind to you, he listened when you spoke and sometimes you felt like he knew more about you than Ada. And then you can’t forget he is quite handsome.

From that day on your ever waking thought was consumed by Tommy Shelby.

13 YEARS LATER; 1919

Ever since he had returned from the war, Tommy wasn’t the same. He wasn’t Tommy anymore. Tommy Shelby was long gone. This was Mr. Shelby. The leader of the Peaky Blinders and the toughest man in Birmingham.

The day he came back from France you ran to him, you went to give him a hug and to welcome him home but he stepped away, avoiding your embrace. You were confused and a bit concerned at this reaction, taking note of his glare and the almost blank expression that painted his face. The light behind his eyes you knew so well was gone.

His refusal of your hug was exceptionally odd because- before he left you were quite close more so then usually. You were both in your 20s and it was unspoken but there was definitely a bit of tension there. You weren’t sure if he felt the same about you, but you were undeniably in love with him, more than just a grade school crush.

Now though, he was a completely different man. If you were told he was a different person entirely- not even named Thomas Shelby, just with the same face…you might actually believe it.

The fun gaze he possessed before was replaced by a hard glare. The smile you were so familiar with replaced by a constant blank expression or scowl. You could’ve swore you saw him smoking a cigarette 24/7 (although that wasn’t TOO strange for him) His face was thinner, his eyes baggier, and all around you could see that this was a broken man.

You walked into the Shelby family meeting and took a seat next to Aunt Polly. Arthur looked at you and furrowed his brows, “Uh no, this is a family meeting, You are not a Shelby. Your a (l/n).” He scolded you. But you didn’t move or even seem to acknowledge his words.

“(y/n)!” He snapped, attempting to get you to reply. You turned to him slowly, staying in your seat and taking a long drag from your cigarette. “As far as your concerned I am a Shelby. I helped your sister and aunt run this place while you were off in France, and now here I am getting disrespected and have no say? What happened?” You defended yourself, your tone quite unbothered.

Before Arthur could speak Tommy chimed in, “we came back.” He said, answering your question. Your eyes moved to him, “did you though?” You asked rhetorically. He was going to reply but Polly cut him off and began the meeting.

After the meeting ended you were the last to leave, or at least you thought you were. There you sat, in your chair looking out the window, cigarette between your fingers as you got lost in thought.

You were pulled out of your mind by a rough voice behind you, “What the hell do you think your doing?” Tommy asked angrily. “Smoking.” You replied matter a factly.

He scoffed, “you know damn well that ain’t what I mean. Showing up to family meetings and acting like you are one of us, like your a peaky blinder.” He scolded you.

You got up angrily and faced him. “I am a peaky blinder Thomas. While you were away fighting in that damn war I was here! I was here with Polly and Ada, and we ran this place. We did a bloody good job at it too! I am just as capable as you are!” You defended.

He looked down at you, “it isn’t safe, the people out there are bloody viscous. Your gonna get ripped to shreds!” He said, the scowl on his face never faltering.

“You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t safe for me, who do you think you are? My keeper? Not in a million years Thomas!” She spat at him, the words seeping into him like venom. He hadn’t heard you call him by his full first name, ever- not that he really thought about it.

He got angry now, although deep down it wasn’t anger, it was sadness. Of course it didn’t come out that way… “ACTUALLY, I CAN TELL YOU WHAT IS AND ISN’T SAFE BECAUSE I AM IN CHARGE AROUND HERE. IF YOU WANT TO BE A PEAKY BLINDER YOUR GONNA LEARN TO FOLLOW ORDERS LIKE A DAMN OBEDIENT WOMAN.” He yelled in your face. You didn’t flinch, just frowned angrily and shook your head.

“Where is Tommy. I want him back.” You said softly? Mostly to yourself. “The hell do you mean? I’m standing right fuckin’ infront of you!” He said, still angry and now a bit confused.

You looked him in the eyes. Those piercing blue eyes that used to hold the world and now, were empty and cold. “The boy who used to care for me, for others. The boy who was kind…who knew my favorite color and cared to say goodmorning and goodnight and wish me a happy birthday every year. The boy who laughed and joked and had fun and had a life! The man who would NEVER speak to me, or any other woman for that matter, like I was some common whore!” You retorted.

He scoffed, “What? You expected me to come back and be the EXACT same man? You have no idea what happened over there! you could think about it realistically- But no! your just a little girl who doesn’t understand how the god damn world works. I mean seriously, PEOPLE DIED. I WATCHED PEOPLE DIE. That changes man! And besides, what’s it matter to you anyway?!” He yelled.

You took his face in your hands roughly, putting on hand on each cheek and forcing him to look you in your eyes as you said this, said the thing you always had wanted to tell him but were always to scared to say. “IT MATTERS BECAUSE I LOVED TOMMY SHELBY. I LOVED HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING AND NOW ALL I GET IS A MAN WHO IS ANGRY AND COLD AND JUST BLOODY MEAN!” You screamed, trying to suppress the tears that threatened your eyes. Not wanting to seem weak.

He pulled away from your grasp on his face and rolled his eyes “oh, so your upset because I didn’t take you home and sleep with you as soon as I got back? FUCK, you really are a cheap fucking whore!” He yelled, slamming a drawer closed.

“THAT ISN'T THE POINT AT ALL!” You yelled and looked up to blink, so the tears wouldn’t fall. “THE POINT IS THAT I LOVED YOU….” Your tone began to soften and the tears finally fell. “I loved you and, god- Thomas I know your struggling and I know that everything over there was horrible. But you won’t even let me help you. You won’t let anyone! All you do is get angry and mean and bitter and…I know my worth and I don’t deserve this.” You responded finally. Before turning and leaving the room.

As you left Tommy watched you go, the anger in his face now melting away and revealing the sadness. He realized he had made a mistake.

3 days later; 1919

You hadn’t spoken to Tommy in days. You had been entirely avoiding him. Mostly out of anger at how he spoke to you, and partially out of embarrassment and guilt. You knew he was struggling and ended up just screaming at him instead of trying to talk to him- but in your defense he was being rude first. And then you told him you were in love with him which you never even considering doing. It was not the greatest memory right now.

Tommy seemed quite alright, some rough business with other gangs but nothing too out of the ordinary, you knew how business was.

It was around midnight you assumed, you had just gotten out of bed to make some tea since you were unable to sleep. As you waited for the water to heat you heard a knock at the door. You looked suspiciously at it.

You grabbed your gun off the table near the door and held it tight as you looked through the peephole.

A soft sigh left your lips as you saw who it was, Thomas Shelby. You rolled your eyes before putting your gun down and opening the door to see what he could possibly want.

You hadn’t noticed through the peephole but he looked pretty messy. In just his pajamas and a jacket, his hair a mess and his face covered in sweat. You looked concerned, and any annoyance you had at his arrival soon washed away.

“I uh. I had a nightmare.” Tommy started, as he stood nervously in your doorway. “I’ve been having them every night really.” He continued softly. Your gaze softened. “Oh Tommy. Come in.” You moved out the way and let him walk in, he took a seat on your sofa as you closed the door and took the water off the stove- then moved to join him on the couch.

“I’m sorry (y/n). For the other day and showing up here now. All those things I said I- I didnt mean it. Your not a whore. Or a stupid little girl, you’re smart and beautiful and you’ve always been a deal too good for me…and tonight I woke up from my nightmare and I just. I don’t know…You said you wanted to help me, and I was scared of letting anyone help me. But I..love you.” He confessed, the look in his eyes tired and sad, but also that warm familiar look you knew well.

You put your hands on his cheeks softly, a striking 180 from how you held his face the other day, and placed your forhead against his. You could feel his shaky breaths on your face as you just sat there for a moment. “I will help you get through this, all of it. Because I love you too, Tommy.” You said as you sat there, once again getting to feel and smell him there with you, you missed this proximity to him.

Tommy smiled a soft smile as you called him his nickname. He put his hands atop yours, which were still on his face, and leaned in to connect his lips with yours in a quick kiss. It was quick but it was also soft and loving. You both had clearly waited for this for so long and it was worth it. “I missed hearing you call me that.” Tommy admitted. “I always thought my name sounded best coming out of your mouth” he said a bit suggestively. You chucked.

“Why don’t we head upstairs to my room? You can stay here, incase you have another nightmare.” You suggested, smiling softly at him as you pulled away from the closeness to look at him fully. He nodded softly before getting up.

As you got back to your room and crawled into bed and layed on your side facing the wall. He climbed in a moment after you, you could feel the dip in the mattress as he got in and under the covers. After he adjusted for a moment you felt his arm wrap around your waist and his body press against yours, his face burying in your hair. “I hope this is alright, love.” He asks softly.

You smile and grab hold of his hand which is resting on your stomach. “Definitely.” You reply as you both snuggle close and drift off to sleep.

Tommy Shelby didn’t have another nightmare that entire night he spent cuddled up with you in your bed, and sure he had a long way to go but he knew with your help it would be okay.

[xpiredcheeto]

Nothing’s Gonna Harm You, Not While I'm Around

*I don’t own the gif*

~1000 words

Tommy Shelby x Sister! Reader

In which Tommy comforts you after you have to use your gun. This takes place in season two because that season makes me happy :)

You had been sleeping when you heard it, it was a slight tapping sound followed by a few clicks. You thought it was some creature so you tried to roll over and fall back asleep.

The noise came again, click click click. 

Then again, until you heard a loud bang. Startled, you sat up and looked around, the noise stopped until you heard a soft sliding noise. You looked to your window, it was sliding open. Someone was breaking in!

You quickly grabbed the handgun that was given to you by your brother Arthur, he always told you not to use it unless it was necessary. Now seemed like one of those times. You pointed the revolver at the window, and a man dressed in all black stared back at you.

"Don't come any closer, I'll shoot you I swear!" you tried to sound brave but you were almost certain that he called your bluff. Your shaking hands probably were the tell.

The man laughed, it was mean and rigid.

"You couldn't use that thing even if you tried," he could tell you were shaking "now make this easy and put down the gun."

You didn't waiver, hands raised as you continued to point the weapon at him.

"Sabini said I wasn't supposed to hurt you, but if you don't put the gun down I will."

He took a step forward.

You took one back.

Suddenly, he sprinted at you. Your gun fired before you could process it. You hit him center mass, striking his heart.

The gun shook violently in your hands as the man you shot fell to the ground. Tears surged from your eyes. You felt disgusted, it's not like the man didn't deserve his fate, he did. He had been an enemy of your brothers, one of Sabini's men. He attempted to kidnap you, most likely to get leverage against your brothers. It was self-defense, so you were in the clear, but it didn't feel that way. 

You felt like vomiting as you stared at the body lying on the floor of your room.

"(Y/N), what was that noise?" Tommy's voice punctured the deafening silence of the room, his voice stricken with worry.

You were frozen and unable to reply, gun still clamped in between your palms. You heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

 "(Y/N)?" It was Tommy again, your lack of reply frightening your brother. He was approaching your door. Your eyes were still flooded with tears.

You were so wrapped up in your head that you didn't hear the doorknob twist or the sound of the door slamming open. Tommy was the first to walk into the room and see the sight of your room.

 "What the fuck happened?" His voice was somewhat panicked at the picture before him. 

You turned to face the voice, gun still held tightly. Tears rained down your cheeks as you looked at your brother standing in the door frame, he was shocked. The only sound in the room was your quiet sobs. You dropped the gun as Tommy pulled you into his arms, letting you cry into his coat. "What happened, sweetheart?" His voice was soft in an attempt to soothe you.

"He...he was trying to hurt me," You choked out between sobs. "I didn't want to kill him, I swear!"

Tommy paused for a moment

"It's alright, I'm not blaming you." Tommy's rough voice answered the question in your mind. "Let's get you out of this room, alright? Let's talk about it downstairs."

 You followed as Tommy led you down the stairs and into the kitchen. He guided you over to a chair and urged you to sit. He knelt to look you in the eyes as he spoke to you. 

"It's alright, sweetheart. He can't hurt you now. You're safe. This won't happen again," he held your hands in his as he spoke. "Now, did you recognize that man?"

"I know he was one of Sabini's men," you stumbled through your words as you spoke "I...he, I swear I didn't mean to kill him!" The tears pricked at your eyes again.

He shushed you again, pure, unbridled rage tainted his features. You had a feeling that this was now the top priority in his mind. he pulled you into his arms, trying to comfort you. His grasp was firm but loving. Like he thought if he let go you would disappear. He had already lost so many people, he wouldn't lose you too.

"I swear to you, Y/N, I will kill the man that ordered this. No one will ever hurt you again."

You knew he meant it. The conviction in his voice was so strong that you were half concerned he might take up arms right then and there and kill every one of Sabini's men. The other half knew that he wouldn't leave you like this. He was smart and he wouldn't hurt Sabini without a solid plan formulated.

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"Tommy?" your voice rang through the small room.

"Yes, love?"

"I can't sleep, Tommy. I don't want to be alone."

He let out a long sigh, his anger bubbling up again.

"Alright, c'mere love." his voice was rough having just woken up.

You walked over and climbed into bed with him. He was warm. His arms circled you, holding you protectively.

"I can't stop thinking about it," you whispered "The way he looked at me, I-I watched him die, Tommy." your voice waned at the end.

He let out another long sigh as you spoke, clearly distressed by your words. "I know, sweetheart. I know what it's like to have someone look at you as life drains from them. But you had no choice, it was you or him, and I'm so glad it was you that survived." he held you closer as he spoke. You let out a sigh of agreement as you wiped the tears from your eyes. "I promise, Y/N, I will never let this happen again."

Your tears slowed and your heart rate lowered as he spoke. His voice calmed you and his hold around you made you feel safe. The slow rise and fall of his chest and the sound of his heart underneath it put you to sleep. Who knew that Tommy would have such a soft spot for you?