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anonymooseforever007 · 11 months

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Bubbles at the Fair

(Tommy Shelby x daughter reader)

Summary- What should have been a peaceful family fair trip still has that hint of Shelby Chaos..... John learns what happens giving Katie to the wrong man, Arthur tries to explain how Infants get fed, and Tommy leaves with a mouth tasting like soap. But hey, Y/N and Finn won't stop talking about the fun they've had.....

A/N: Hi Y'all! No it's as trigger warnings for this one really. There are mentions of an arranged marriage and we actually learn more about Tommy and Marie's relationship in the beginning and it's a bit angstyish, but the rest is mostly fluff! Oh and in one part Y/N does have to wash her mouth with soap but she's not being punished, I promise! Also remember this is prewar Tommy, so he's probably different (happier) than he usually is in cannon especially since he's with his daughter! Enjoy ❤️based off a real story ❤️

WC- 5.6K

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

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Birmingham 1912

Thomas Shelby held tightly to the rope he'd tied to his four year old daughter's pants.

Well, technically they were her uncle's pants, but none of her dresses had any loops and Tommy didn't want to lose her. The bouncy child had a habit of shooting off these days, ever since she'd learn to run, she'd see something that excited her and go directly for it. It didn't matter who else was in the way. There had been many a talk between father and daughter about not just taking off in a heavy crowd and the young girl seemed to understand. But Tommy was still a bit worried. Especially since there were so many people around now.

The sky was clear and the air was cool as it shown down on the edges of the land. It was almost June and the schools had just gotten out.

Not only that, but the fair had come to town.

Dozens of children and their families flocked to the usually empty plot of land, now decorated with small colorful tents and circus acts promising amazing excitements.

And the Shelby Family was no different.

All of them had decided to close the shop early for the day and visit the fun that seemed to have drawn everyone in the city to its colorful signs and entertaining games. Even Marie was in a good mood and decided to come along, chatting quietly with Martha who was carrying newborn Katie.

Lately, Tommy had noticed his wife had seemed to be come less content with the cards dealt to her. And while he still couldn't say he loved her (nor that she loved him) they'd seemed to find some sort of friendship for the in between, if only because of their daughter. And truthfully he couldn't blame her. It had been a one night stand that had turned into a shotgun marriage once her aunt and uncle found out why she was getting sick every morning. Originally from America, her aunt and uncle had made her stay with Tommy even after the baby was born. And while in the beginning she hadn't minded, their short lived lust still in full run, the thrill seemed to be over for her. Tommy knew Marie had begun to felt trapped by the result of that one night. And while he sympathized for her feeling the same way at time, he didn't like how her feelings lead her to treat their daughter. Everyone could see that Maria had begun to draw away from her daughter and resent the young girl almost. In the beginning she had seemed to fawn over the child just as much as her husband had, but when Y/N began to grow and cling to her father more, Maria slowly stepped back. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter. She did, but as the years past it got harder for her to ignore what her life could have been if she hadn't met Tommy that night. It was as if Y/N had become a reminder of where Marie's life could have gone and why she was stuck where she was. In a small, overcrowded house, surrounded by dirt and grime where few ever left. It certainly wasn't the life she'd planned when she came over to stay with her Aunt and Uncle for the summer, and her heart was beginning to feel more and more of its toll. She'd still let Y/N talk to her and grab her hand on the sidewalk when going to the park, but her responses had become shorter and park trips became less frequent. And the worst part about it was that little Y/N didn't seem to notice how her mother didn't smile as brightly at her drawings anymore. She didn't notice how her mother was always to busy too play tea party. She didn't notice how often her mother's side was empty, the nights she'd snuck into her parents bed. Y/N didn't notice her mother's hardening heart, but everyone else did.

Nevertheless, there were some days, like today, when Marie's heart warmed again, and she'd join the family on their outages, conversing with Polly or telling Arthur off for letting Y/N yell to loud. Those days were Y/N's favorites when both her parents were around and she was able to grab both their hands as they walked down the streets, chattering away about what she'd done with Finn. Sure, she could do that perfectly fine with her Father and Lizzie when they'd meet at the park. But for the four year old girl, there was just something special about being able to be near both of her parents, especially during the day when everyone was awake. After all, they were her parents. They were suppose to be the ones who loved her most right? So why shouldn't being around them be her favorite thing? The young girl loved nothing more than being around her family, even if it was only for a meal.

"Look Y/N there's a bear!"

Y/N squealed, turning to hug the speaking Finn as they both shook with excitement when the family passed under the colorful entrance sign. It was no surprise how close the pair was. Finn and Y/N might as well have been conjoined twins with how often they were together. Only separated by a couple months, the two had spent practically every moment together since Y/N was born. They even shared the same sleeping space as babies in the small room with Tommy and Marie. In fact, they were raised so closely Finn still had a habit of calling Tommy "Daddy" or "Da" often like Y/N did. After all, it was only natural he learn that since it's what everyone called Tommy when Y/N was around, seeing as he didn't want his daughter calling him by his name. And since Finn was always with Y/N he'd picked up on it too. Where Y/N went, Finn went, and where Finn caused trouble, Y/N was sure to follow. Almost always together, and always smiling with each other, the pair of four year olds were the light of the Shelby Family. And everyone was sure that in a few years, when Katie could walk, she'd be causing trouble right along with them. At his niece's joy, The four year old boy beamed, just as excited and he hugged onto his best friend. Finn didn't have a rope tied to his pants. Everyone knew he was less likely to run off and besides, there wasn't need for two ropes when Y/N was always holding on tightly to her Uncle some how. Be it the hand or shirt, Finn and her always had a grip on each other in some way when out in the streets. It was as if they weren't afraid of anything more than losing their other half.

"I see Finn! Daddy look! There's a bear! Ohh and there's a duck.... and there's a clown and there's that man eating fire and.. and... ahh there's so much..... Daddy it's loud."

Though she had been excited when she first saw everything, the crowd and the chaos immediately became a bit much for the young girl. Overwhelmed, she dropped her uncle's hand and stepped back until she ran into her father's legs. Still facing forward, eyes darting back and forth at the loud people and sights before her, Y/N reached behind her and tried to grab the fabric of her father's pants. She liked the fair and was still excited, but the sudden abundance of possible opportunities before her startled her a bit. She had no clue where to begin. It was a bit much.

Looking down, Tommy saw the look on Y/N face and knew she was at a bit of a loss. Reaching down, he began to run his fingers through her hair. But before he could bend down on one knee to speak to her, Finn had crashed into her, wrapping her in another hug that consisted of her, him, and the lower part of Tommy's legs. Unable to bend down Tommy could barely hear what Finn whispered to Y/N when he released the hug and grabbed her face forcing her look at him. Her cheeks were squished between his hands as he spoke with a determined look on his face. His best friend was nervous and Finn would do anything to fix that.

"Y/N. Hi Y/N! Look at me. It's Finn. Look at me."

Cheeks still squished between small hands, Y/N stared uncertainly at her favorite uncle before answering.

"...hi finn. It's kinda loud."

"Yeah but it's ok. It's ok. It's just noise."

"Just noise?"

"Yeah, like Pol bangs pans in the kitchen or Ada yells at Johnny for stealing her pillow. Or when Da says naughty words if he hits his hand on the door? Only noise. Like when Artie snores so loud Ada tries covering his head with a pillow so he can't make it any more."

Y/N smiled at her uncle's words, laughing quietly at the image of her aunt smothering her oldest uncle with a pillow.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Y/N smiled again and hugged her uncle closer for a minute more. The adults all watched in with small grins on their faces.

Then not moments later, the pair of children began to rock. Gently at first, nudging the other back and forth before, still clinging tightly to each other. Then their giggles began to grow and soon the children were twirling around in fast circles, trying to see who would fall first. It ended when they both tripped over Arthur's left foot and landed in a heap in the ground. Finn and Y/N stared at the others for a moment, blankly, before bursting into giggles again.

"All right twiddle de and twiddle dum. Ready to have some fun," Arthur chuckled as he dragged both children to their feet. Grinning eagerly at the eldest Shelby man, they both nodded.

"YESSSSS!"

"Alrighty then. Let's get to it!"

Grabbing each child in one arm, Arthur lifted them on to opposite arms and ran farther into the crowd, Y/N and Finn squealing as he speed up. The rest of the family laughed as they watched him run. John slid up by Tommy, Katie now snuggled in her father's arms as the women broke off to enjoy some time of their own without any scheming children.

"Which one do you think he's gonna drop first?"

Tommy looked a John with a raised eyebrow, his sticking arms out for his two month old niece. Adjusting the baby in his arms, Tommy was surprised at how even now, she was bigger than Y/N had been at three months. But then again, Y/N had been a month early. And Katie obviously got John's baby genes, weighing more than Finn and Y/N had combined. She was a squishy little thing full of baby rolls, burps, and love. Y/N had been so excited when she first met her cousin, eagerly stating that it was the cutest potato she'd ever seen. Martha nearly peed herself laughing when she heard, while John stood by the couch, mouth open in shock at the three (almost four) year old's audacity. From the pillow she was laying on in the her cousin's lap, two day old Katie had only stared wide eyed at the girl, while Finn dared squeeze her cheeks curiously. Now two months old, Katie made a sweet cooing sound from her uncle's arms as he tickled her belly slightly. Tommy smiled at her, before looking at John....his smile dropping. John realised it was a mistake to let Katie go. She was his only protection. With one arm, Tommy childishly shoved his brother back a few steps in retaliation, causing Katie to coo again as her Uncle laughed.

"Your Daddy's being silly isn't he Katie Kat?"

Rolling his eyes, but still chuckling himself, John stepped back towards Tommy, reaching his arms out for his daughter again.

"Ha ha, very funny, steal a man's baby and shove him while he's distracted by her singing huh? What kinda of example is that, ya shit uncle?"

Tommy only grinned at his brother and held the baby out of her father's reach. It was the same way John had done it when Y/N was this age. Now Tommy was finally able to get his retaliation. Thank you Martha for falling for his stupid brother's stupider pick up lines...

"It's a good one John Boy. Teaches her never to give up her greatest protection. If you hadn't given her to me, you wouldn't have that shit colored mud stain on your ass now. I bet Martha will find that real attractive won't she?"

Eyes wide, John spun in circles looking for the offending mark.... Only to find nothing as his brother started laughing again.

"Oh fuck you Tommy, I fucking outta-"

"What shove me? You wouldn't shove a man with a baby in his arms now would yah John boy?," Tommy grinned smugly, in the way only a big brother could. Holding up Katie and squishing her cheeks lightly he continued, "I mean you wouldn't want to knock this squishy potato now would you?"

Katie giggled and reached out her arms for her father, as she was bounced in her uncle's arms. Huffing, John rolled his eyes and stepped up to Tommy. Then as hard as he dared with his daughter's safety in mind.... John poked Tommy's shoulder aggressively as one could.

"You're a right ass you know that."

"Ada reminds me every day John Boy."

"Oi! Are you two ladies done making faces or are we gonna play some fucking...shit don't say that word tinys...or that one....Are you gonna play with us?"

Arthur had called over to his brothers from the bench he now sat on as Y/N and Finn crawled all over him. The first time he'd cursed, Arthur had remembered he wasn't suppose too around the kids, grabbed their heads and shoved them against his chest, one hand over each to muffle any more possible "naughty words" they might have heard. In protest at being restrained, Y/N and Finn struggled back to free themselves of Arthur's grasp, laughing as he playfully battered their attacks off.

"Yeah alright, just as soon as Tommy gives me my kid back."

"I was just trying to teach her a good lesson John. Ya know. Good uncle shit and all that." Tommy shrugged his shoulders and finally relinquished his niece.

Hearing mentions of her cousin, Y/N scrambled off of Arthur and over to John where she grabbed his knee in hopes he'd kneel down. He did, and soon Katie was laughing again while her cousin poked her belly the same way Y/N's father had only moments before. She talked eagerly to the baby who didn't understand a word being said.

"Are ya having fun Katie Kat? Are we gonna play some fair games?"

Katie just cooed (it was practically all she could do) and grabbed on to her cousin's finger. Tommy smiled down at his daughter and noticed something. There was a faint rim of chocolate around her mouth, and already he could tell the girl was bouncing more than usual. Looking over to the bench, Finn displayed the same traits.

"ARTHUR!? Did you already give them ice cream?"

Looking anywhere but his brother, Arthur stood up, swooping Finn onto his shoulder and started heading towards the games again.

"Ohh would you look at that! A line's forming! We better get there quick before it's too long shouldn't we Finny?"

Rolling his eyes at Arthur's antics, Tommy smirked and swooped Y/N up on his own shoulders. As long as John, well technically Katie, was besides her, Y/N would have no problem being carried. Especially if it was on her father's shoulders where she could see everything.

"Right then sweetheart, ready to beat Artie and Finny at darts?"

"Yeah!!! DARTS!"

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It had been an hour since the family had arrived at the fair and everything was going great. Tommy, John, and Arthur had all won a handful of prizes from a shooting game, as Finn, Katie, and Y/N cheered them on, clapping. Well, Katie clapped and cheered. Finn and Y/N just cheered, while taking turns with one another holding Katie as the other covered her ears from the shots. Luckily it was only pellet gun so it still didn't make too much noise. Against common sense and their promise to Polly, the older men had also given Y/N and Finn the chance to shoot the small pellet guns at the paper targets. Sitting in Arthur's lap, each child had been given the chance to pull the trigger while the older man aimed the pellet gun. The whole time Tommy was also telling them all the important parts of the gun and how to safely use it. Sure they'd definitely get chewed out for it later when Polly learned, but it was still fun to watch the children's faces light up as "they" hit the target like the older men they adored.

In addition to the shooting game, they'd also played a game involving rolling a bowling ball over a hill. This one was more fun for the kids, but Arthur's leg had ended up being a step stool for Y/N and Finn to stand on as they rolled the balls. After that the group stopped for another ice cream break. They bought three ice creams and split it between the five of them. Y/N wanted to feed Katie a small bit off her finger, but then Arthur ended up explaining why she was too young to eat any of it herself.

Why was Arthur the one to do it? Because John himself didn't know why, actually curious to try, and Tommy had run Finn to the bathroom. And so the slightly blushing man fumbled through explaining where her two month old cousin's food came from, hopefully in a way that wouldn't get Arthur hit by his brother, for his description of his sister in law if he accidentally brought up too many barn animals. Martha would kill him for doing that, and then Polly would start.

"Well Y/N, Katie doesn't eat like the rest of us. She doesn't got any teeth."

"Why? Did she loose them? I can help her find them if she wants."

"No, she didn't lose them they haven't come in yet. See, right now Katie gets her food from Martha."

"Oh because Martha makes her and John food at night. But John doesn't just eat Martha's food does he?"

"Well, actually Y/N, the stuff Martha makes isn't too ba... gaaaahh!" John opened his mouth, about to announce something that would absolutely get him wacked for saying to a four year old, but Arthur's foot on his heal stopped him.

"Ignore him tiny, the icecream has shot to his brain."

"Oh no! Does his eye hurt?"

"What?"

Y/N rocked on her feet as she stood on the bench to feel John's right eye.

"Sometimes when I eat icecream too fast it makes my eye hurt, and I go MY EYE! MY EYE!" She responded, holding her own eye for dramatic effect.

"What the fuck did you do to my kid?"

Appearing from the crowd again with not only Finn, but the women of the family, Tommy had arrived just in time to see his precious daughter grab her eye, call out for it, and fall into Arthur's lap. Seeing Finn return again, Y/N bounced up, and ran to him.

"FINNY! Guess what! Artie is telling me how Katie eats!"

Immediately, all heads shot to Arthur who seemed to shrink in his seat, aware that with the women around he'd have to tread more carefully.

"Yeah. Right. So it's like... well she doesn't have any teeth so she can't eat hard food like you or me right."

"Yeah! Artie said that she can only eat Martha's food! And Johnny said he likes it a lot too!"

Ada hid her face in Tommy's shoulder to muffle the laughter coming from her mouth, while Marie didn't even bother hiding her smirk as she supported Martha who was almost bent over laughing. Eighteen year old John looked anywhere but his Aunt's eyes.

"That's not true."

"Yes it it."

"Not it's not"

"YES IT IS!" Y/N stomped her foot glaring at her Uncle, not liking being called a liar.

"Fine!" John quickly relented, not wanting to start a yelling match he knew he'd loose. Y/N nodded her head before looking for Arthur to continue. Arthur just sputtered for a moment, not really sure how to continue or why he was the one answering. Aside from Finn, Arthur was probably the last one who should be answering this question. He was the least equipped, having no kids or tools of his own.

"Well....right. She only eats food from Martha. And Martha kinda...in a way... makes it for her."

"Ohh like a recipe. Does she get the stuff from the store like when Polly goes to buy bread?"

Arthur's face was a red as Katie's dress now.

"No no... ya see Y/N... she doesn't get it from the store, she just kinda...." Arthur gestured vaguely in the direction of the still laughing Martha's chest hoping that would've be enough to quell the girl's questions... It wasn't.

"That's Martha, Artie. Correct. You still haven't said where she gets the food from."

Arthur just groaned, wondering who he'd pissed off upstairs to deserve such humiliation. Y/N only smiled innocently, eager to hear her Uncle's words..... But Arthur gave up.

"Ya know what, why don't you ask her because I ain't telling ya. She's the one who makes it yeah? So she's the one who knows it best."

"OK!"

Skipping over to Martha, Y/N motioned for the eighteen year old girl to lean down so she could whisper in her ear, as if they hadn't been having the conversation in public only moments ago. Obliging, Martha bent down. It only took a few minutes for Martha to whisper in Y/N's ear before the four year old pulled back and looking wide eyed and pointing to Martha's chest.

"There?"

"Yep. It's pretty normal."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Like a bottle. Your mum probably did it too when you were a baby."

"Really?!" Y/N looked at her mother who just nodded in confirmation.

"You can... you can like have snacks wherever you go!"

The adults laughter at the child's innocent idea while, Arthur was just glad he didn't have to talk any more.

"But wait? Why did Uncle John say he...."

"Moving on!" Tommy put a hand over his daughter's mouth to keep her from opening that can of worms.

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"Alright! I think we have time for one last game and then we have to go home alright?"

Y/N and Finn looked decisively at the booths around them, trying to decide what game to play. They'd gone around to most of the games already, but there were some they hadn't played yet. Over by the edge of the tents, Y/N noticed a small green one that seemed to have a pool of some sort underneath. Hoping there was maybe a fish she could see, she nudged to Finn and pointed over in that direction.

"Wanna do that one? It's got a tub so maybe we can get a fish! But you can't lick it this time ok."

Finn's eyes widened with excitement at the thought of a pet, while every adult present internally hoped it wouldn't be true.

"Ok! If we gets fish can we name him Jethro?"

"....I like that name, sure!"

Running over to the tent, the rest of the family followed, confused to where Finn had heard such a name. Though when they reached the tent, much to Y/N and Finn's disappointment, the tub wasn't filled with live fishy friends, nevertheless they were still excited to play. The tub was instead filled with toy rubber ducks. Tommy knew this game. It was incredibly simple, only requiring the user to pick up a duck with their hands and see what size prize they'd won. A easy game, it couldn't be any harder to get wrong, which is why it seemed perfect for the last game of the day. With something so simple it couldn't go wrong. The man running the game stood up and walked over to the group.

"Fancy a play? Everyone's a winner at the duck pond!"

"We wanna play! We wanna play!" Y/N and Finn cheered eagerly while Tommy handed over the money for each kid to play a round.

"Alright you know how to play? You get duck from the pond and whatever shape is on the bottom is the prize you get, understand?"

"Yes! Me and Finny played a game like this with our Aunt Ada once!" Y/N explained to the stranger, eager to start. She remembered having so much fun with it last autumn.

"Ok then. Start whenever you're ready."

Grinning at each-other and then their family behind them, Y/N and Finn faced the tub while Arthur gave a count down.

"Ready..... Set............GO!"

Finn immediately stuck his arm into the water and picked up a duck.

Y/N stuck her head in.

Somewhat horrified Tommy jumped for his daughter, intending to pull her head out, only now noticing how dirty the water was with its sickly green tint. John and Polly immediately started laughing, while Ada and Marie just stood in shock. Martha put her hand over mouth while Katie just gurgled happily at the water splashing her. Arthur gagged and pulled Finn back from the tub, who looked like he was about to do the same thing. Not that Y/N noticed of course. Her head was underwater.

Tommy had only just touched his daughter's shoulder when her head popped back up out of the water. She turned around dripping wet and proudly showing off the small yellow rubber duck, whose head was in her mouth.

Tommy didn't even give her the chance to spit out the duck before he picked her up and practically ran with her to the makeshift sink by the outhouses. Really it was a tub under a water pump, with a few bars of soap on a nearby stool. Placing her down firmly on her feet, Tommy grabbed the nearest soap bar and couched down by his daughter.

"Spit it out."

Confused as to why her father didn't seem happy she'd won, Y/N's brow pinched as she shook her head.

"Y/N spit the duck out now."

The four year old girl still shook her head. She'd won the duck, why did she have to give it back? Tommy's face grew stern and he took a tone he rarely did with the kids.

"Y/N spit the duck out NOW!"

Finally listening, Y/N finally pulled the rubber toy out of her mouth and pouted at her father. Tommy ignored it for now more concerned about the fact he'd seen a used cigarette butt in the water as he went to grab his child. Fuck, there were probably so many diseases in there she'd be dead by dawn. Who even allows such a filth game at a fucking fair, Tommy thought, especially without explaining how to play. Evidently the game was harder than he thought, and the standman should have made the rules more clear. Now his beloved daughter probably had the plague or something like it.

"Good, now open your mouth."

Again Y/N complied, only to be met with a small bar of soap being placed on her tongue as Tommy urgently tried to get whatever filth was in the water out of his daughter's mouth. Her nose wrinkled as the taste of soap covered her mouth and Y/N tried to hit her father's arm, knocking his scrubbing off her tongue. And though she hadn't been strong enough to do so, luckily a few moments later her father pulled out the soap. Refusing to close her mouth Y/N could feel the bubbles on her tongue and angrily tried to kick her (usually) beloved father. Tommy caught her leg, looking her in the eyes, and from his pocket pulled out a small flask with a thin green ribbon around the cap. It also had a few small flowers on top a train engine carved on the metal sides.

"Yeah yeah, I know it sucks and I'm sorry but it's almost over sweetheart. I'm gonna pour some of this in your mouth and then you're gonna close your mouth, but NOT swallow it. You're gonna shake your head and then spit it out. I repeat you WILL NOT swallow it, it's only to rinse your mouth."

The flask didn't contain alcohol. It was actually filled with juice, and he carried it around with him most times incase Y/N got thirsty on an outing. Polly and Marie had disapproved of him getting it for her, but Y/N have been delighted to receive the "small can" like she'd seen her father carry around. It had taken two months to find a jeweler willing to etch the odd design on it too, but it was worth Y/N's smile as she lit up seeing her gift, and began immediately talking about where the flower train could be going. He also carried one for Finn, but that one was currently in Arthur's jacket. It had also been etched, but with the image of the deer and turtles Finn liked to watch by the pond the family took picnics at occasionally.

"Y/N swish and spit it right now."

Narrowing her eyes, but knowing she had no other choice, Y/N stuck out her tongue letting her father pour a small amount of juice inside the mouth. Then after shaking her head twice she purposely spit the liquid back out.... right onto the toes of her father's feet. Crossing her arms, Y/N glared at her father wondering why he had to go and ruin a perfectly good day.

Tommy looked at his shoes and then back up to his daughter's hurt face. Shit. Taking his jacket off Tommy wrapped it tightly around the dripping Y/N, who now looked to be on the verge of tears. Wincing, Tommy realized that maybe he should have explained what he was doing first. Here she was, a thinking she's won a game, and he had to go and practically punish her for it. Tommy had never washed her mouth out with soap before, but he now remembered Polly half threatening to do it to him before, while Y/N sat playing on the floor. She probably didn't realize Tommy was just briefly panicking about her getting sick from whatever had been in the water.

"Y/N?"

The mentioned girl averted her gaze looking down at her feet as small sniffles began to come.

"Y/N, sweetheart I'm sorry I just did that," Pulling his daughter closer, Tommy, fully on his knees now, gently placed a finger under her chin so she'd meet his eyes. Tommy's heart sank seeing the tears beginning to form. "I'm so so sorry I did that sweetheart, I was scared that you put your head in the water yeah? It's dirty and I'd don't want you to get sick."

"I ...I didn't... I didn't know that though."

Y/N looked to the side whimpering slightly as Tommy's hand came up to wipe away any remaining tears.

"I realize that sweetheart and I'm sorry. I wasn't expecting you to do that, and it surprised me yeah? I reacted badly and I'm sorry I didn't tell ya why I was doing it before I scrubbed your mouth. I promise it won't happen again yeah. Do you think you can forgive me sweetheart?"

It wasn't often Y/N was mad at Tommy, atleast not over big things. But it still didn't stop the pain in Tommy's heart everytime he made his daughter cry, even if he was mad at her for something else at the time. It hurt anytime he saw her cry, but knowing he'd been the cause made him feel that much worse. Staring at her father a bit longer, Y/N shuffled her feet and wrapped her father's jacket tighter around herself. Her father really did seem sorry and besides he'd never done anything like it before so maybe he was telling the truth.

"Do you promise you won't do it again?"

"Yes, Y/N, sweetheart I promise I won't do it again."

She dragged her feet in the ground for a bit, watching the mud seep in to her father's pants.

"Ok."

"Ok?"

Time and time again, Tommy was often surprised by his sweet daughter's willingness to forgive and put the past behind her. It certainly wasn't a trait she'd gotten from his side of family. But then again, her and Finn always were a bit different. They were the family's chance to be raised better than the rest were. Especially since Arthur Sr. wasn't around anymore to cause the pain he always did. Maybe Y/N and Finn were a bit softer than the rest, but Tommy didn't think that was a bad thing. He didn't necessarily want the youngest two involved in the darker part of the growing family business. The one that meant he had to swap out his caps in the garage after work before coming inside to see the kids, lest they hurt themselves grabbing the blades sewn inside his usual one.

"Yeah it's ok Daddy. I'm not mad anymore. You said sorry."

Relieved he hadn't totally ruined his relationship with her, Tommy pulled his daughter close, not caring that his other clothes were getting wetter by the second. Y/N wrapped her arms around her father in response as they remained that way for a few minutes. Then Tommy let go and stood up, ready to rejoin the family.

"Wait!"

Looking back down to his daughter, Tommy saw that she was holding not only the duck, but the small bar of soap. Tommy chuckled.

"What love? Do you want to clean the duck before we go back?"

"Yes, help me please."

And so he did.

Tommy Shelby helped his four year old girl wash the small yellow duck, making her laugh with the terrible duck impressions he did. Tommy was much better at neighing like horses than quacking like a duck. Once finished, she dried the duck off with her father's coat and held it close to her chest.

"Alright? Now are we good to go," Tommy asked again. Y/N began to nod and then stopped. She smiled innocently, but Tommy recognised the look in her eye. Tommy thought his daughter had the face of an angel, but he couldn't quite deny the bit of devil in her angel eyes. That was the part she got from him. Y/N offered the small bar of soap to her father once more.

"I want you to try it."

Tommy's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Daddy, I want you to taste the soap since you made me try it. It's only fair."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn't have to try eating the soap. Besides the fact it was SOAP. But his daughter was right. He'd made her try it, and so logistically it was only fair if he did too. Damn himself for trying to teach her about taking responsibility for one's mistakes. Good parenting evidently had some drawbacks. Tilting his head, Tommy tried appealing to Y/N one more time.

"Are you sure I have to try it? It doesn't look too good."

Y/N shook her head.

"It's not. At ALL. That's why you can't swallow it. Now here."

Sighing in defeat, Tommy took the soap. Looking around to make sure no one was watching, he did as his daughter asked. If only to teach her a lesson about making up for her mistakes. Lord knew he needed to get better about it himself, instead of ignoring them or making more problems to hide the small ones. Breaking off a small piece, he stuck it on his tongue, nose immediately wrinkling at the taste. Y/N's eyes never left his face, watching intently as he closed his mouth and rolled the soap around like it was a piece of candy. All of the sudden, Tommy inhaled though his nose and the piece of soap shot to the back of his mouth. Gagging, Tommy spit out the soap, grabbed the flask and desperately tried to swish out the taste.

"That is fucking disgusting....Don't tell Polly I said that word."

Y/N laughed at the small bubbles coming from her father's mouth with each spit. And despite the lingering taste it was enough to turn Tommy's own lips upwards. She clapped her hands at her father's problem, satisfied with the fate he'd been dealt. Rinsing his mouth one more time, Tommy straightened up again and brushed Y/N's hair back from her face before moving to fix his own too. Thankfully, no one else saw the dangerous gangster almost meet his end.... choking on a piece of soap.

"Now can we go back? You still haven't picked your prize yet sweetheart."

Y/N grabbed her father's hand and began to lead him back towards the booth.

"I know exactly what I want."

Hand in Hand, father and daughter walked back to the tent where their family was waiting. As they got closer, Tommy could hear Arthur threatening the vendor.

"When that little girl comes back you are going to give her whatever fucking prize her little heart desires, I don't care if it's the shirt off your fucking back, do you hear me? As far as she's concerned she won anything alright?"

Nodding fearfully, the game man accepted Arthur's words. Finn was the first to notice the pair's return, smiling wildly as he held his new stuffed deer.

"Y/N look what I won!"

Eagerly, Y/N raced over to Finn, lightly running her hand off the top of the soft stuffed animal.

"Finny he's so pretty!"

"I'm gonna let him sleep by my stuffed chicken I think."

"What's his name?"

"I'm naming his Deery because he's a deer."

"Ohh that's perfect!"

Eager to loose the threatening gaze of Arthur, the vendor cleared his throat nervously, gaining the attention of both children.

"If you like the deer you can have one too kid. You did win the game, so pick any prize you like."

Y/N looked to the pile of prizes the man displayed to the side of the tent. Turning over the duck in her hand she saw a circle which was a medium prize, the same size as Finn's deer. Pointing to the pile she looked at the vendor.

"My duck has a circle under it so I got to choose from there right?"

Arthur glared harder and Ada nudged him to tone it down a bit, but the vendor already noticed.

"Actually you can pick anything you see from the tent just like this lad did. You two are my best customers today, so you can have any prize you like. Even the big ones."

"Anything?"

"Anything you want."

Y/N didn't even hesitate, beaming as like she told her father, she already knew exactly what she wanted. She stuck out her hand.

"Can I have this?"

"......You want the duck?" Tilting his head, the vendor was confused. He'd given the girl any choose of prize she wanted even the big ones, and she choose the rubber duck she'd grabbed..well bitten... from the water. Truthfully the man knew the ducks weren't the cleanest. He figured it didn't really matter about keeping them super clean when people only picked them up for a few seconds with their hands. The vendor had never seen anyone use their mouth to grab a duck. He'd have to put that in the rules now too. Y/N only grinned, holding the duck close to her chest.

"Yes please, I really like him. He's really cute and cuddly. My daddy already helped me clean him too. So can I keep him?

Still confused but not about to reject the sweet child the vendor conceded.

"Alright then girly. If you want the duck you can have the duck. Congratulations ... I think?"

Happily, Y/N bounced up and down, pleased with her duck. It fit perfectly in one hand and in her small pants pocket, which meant he could go with her everywhere. Racing back to Finn, Y/N was quick to show him her prize.

"Finny, LOOK! I got a rubber duck!"

"What is its name?"

"Ducklores, it's like Dolores but with duck!"

".....I like that! Do you think he wants to be friends with Deery?"

"YES! They can be BEST friends, Finny. Just like us!"

Eagerly the children dove into conversation over their new toys as the family walked back to the car. Despite a few bumps and bubbles it really had been a great day for the fair. Tommy's mouth still tasted like soap and he was holding the rope by Y/N's pants again but she didn't notice. She was far to distanced talking about the fun they'd had and showing off her duck to Katie. But Tommy didn't mind, because his daughter was smiling. And that's all he ever wanted. If the last thing Tommy saw was he daughter's smile, he knew he could die a happy man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/N? Why did you stick your head in the water?"

"I thought it was like bobbing for Apples, Finny. But with ducks."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

#tommy shelby x child reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby

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book-place · 2 years

Text

To Be Tommy

Warnings: 1x04 spoilers, cursing, grenade, explosion, let me know if I missed any :)

Parings: Tommy Shelby x sister reader, Finn Shelby x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: In the middle of a competition to see who could be the best Tommy Shelby, something goes wrong

A/N: I was in the mood to write for Peaky Blinders

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Vrooom!” Finn made the noise effects with his voice as he pretended to steer Tommy’s car, arms swiftly moving from side to side.

He looked over at you with a large, childish grin that took up at least half of his face, “Look, Y/n! I’m just like Tommy!”

You rolled your eyes slightly at your twin brother and crossed your arms with a huff, “But I want to be Tommy!” The complaint came out as a whine.

It was then Finn’s turn to roll his eyes in annoyance, ‘clicking’ his tongue to the best of his ability, “You can’t be Tommy!”

“Why not?” You demanded.

“‘Cause you’re a girl!” He said matter of factly, head turning the other way as he stuck his nose up.

Steam was practically coming out of your ears by this point, “Oh just you wait, Finn Shelby! I’ll be a better Tommy than you! Watch this, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It was a word you had heard your elder brother say very often, but Polly always warned you that she better not ever catch you saying it. She then normally proceeded to slap Tommy upside the head for saying it in front of you.

Finn gasped and gaped at you, appalled that you would try to top him like that, “Hey!” He exclaimed in anger, “That’s cheatin’! It’s too easy!”

You simply shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms and sticking your tongue out at him, “Well then you should have done it before me.”

All of a sudden, the sound of hasty steps filled your ears, and your head snapped up with wide eyes when your older brother's voice called out, “Finn. Y/n.”

There was an urgency behind it that you had never heard before. He was always so calm and collected. So sure of himself, it was one of the things that you hoped to learn from him someday.

He slowly walked towards the two of you, a hand raised as if to calm someone down, “Finn, Y/n, stay exactly where you are.” Though it was supposed to be an order, it almost sounded like a beg.

You giggled, not yet old enough to actually comprehend the out of character concern that your second eldest brother was displaying, “We were pretending to be you.” You explained between laughs.

Finn gave a cheeky grin, “Yeah! And I’ve obviously been better than her.”

Before you could open your mouth to begin to argue against him again, Tommy continued speaking, “Which door did you two come in?”

“We didn’t.” The young boy stated proudly, momentarily forgetting your argument as he shared a prideful look with you, “We climbed in. Me first, then I helped Y/n in.”

Tommy continued moving, coming around to the window of the car, “I want you to climb out exactly the way you climbed in, okay?”

Finn looked to the side at you, pouting slightly because the game was over, but you merely shrugged as if to say that you didn’t need the car to play.

But a mischievous look came over your twin brother's face, and this time it was him that was giggling as he opened the door closest to him and jumped out.

“No, no, Finn!” Tommy yelled, grabbing a grenade that fell out of the door and chucking it in the direction away from the three of you, shouting, “Clear!” To the nearby people.

Then he didn’t waste a second scooping you out of the car, taking Finn in his other arm and running the opposite way, shielding the both of you with his own body as an explosion took place behind you.

All three of you were panting heavily, you grasping onto a fist full of your older brother's jacket as tears began to well up in your eyes, just like you could hear was happening to Finn.

After waiting at least thirty seconds to make sure everything was okay, Tommy finally set you both down and turned around, but grasped your hands in his own as he walked, as if to reassure himself that you were both still there and alive.

He suddenly stopped walking and kneeled down, taking you each by a shoulder and looking back and forth directly into your eyes, shaking you slightly, “That is why you should never pretend to be me.” He panted out, “Okay?”

You and your twin brother each tearfully nodded, prompting Tommy to stand up and bring you both into a long hug that was given back tightly by both of you as you grasped onto the man you both looked up most to in the world for comfort.

“But, Tommy…” You said after a moment, pulling away and sniffling as you wiped your nose on the back of your sleeve, “I’m a better Tommy than he is. Watch. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The tears could still be heard in your voice and there was no longer the same urgency as when you had been saying the word before.

Despite everything, your older brother let out a watery chuckle and ruffled your hair, “Yeah, n/n, you’re doing it better.”

“What?” Finn exclaimed in outrage, stomping a foot, “I can do that too! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

Tommy threw you a sneaky and playful wink, “Sure, Finn. You can do it too… just don’t tell Aunt Polly.”

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remuslupinsdaughter · 3 months

Text

New Masterlist

Here’s where you’ll find everything I’ve written 🙂

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

The winterwidows child

Bucky Barnes

The winterwidows child

Frank castle

Protect her

Part one part two part three part four

Criminal minds

Miss momma

Will LaMontagne Jr

Miss momma

Derek Morgan

Suspended

Hospital stays and side effects

Aaron Hotchner

All too much

Hiding from school

Sons of anarchy

Protection

Part one part two part three

Happy Lowmann

Harley Lowmann

Part one Part two

Bloody hands

Mayans M.C.

Angel Reyes

Daddy’s girl

Harry Potter

Remus Lupin

Scared me

Nightmares

Under the weather

Not good enough

Dad Remus headcannons

Christmas

Scared of the bad man

Sirius Black

Nightmares

As long as you need

Scared of the bad man

The Walking Dead

Negan

Scraped knees and kisses better

Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby

Molly Shelby

Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

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moral-terpitude · 1 year

Text

The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed - part 5

Word Count: 905

Warnings: mentions of miscarriage/ infant loss.

No readmore because I don’t want to lose paragraphs. It’s still giving me problems. Sorry.

[Masterlist] [Previous Part]

Tommy sat at his desk with his head in his hands. He hadn’t slept the rest of the night, and you not coming to bed had kept him tossing and turning anyway.

He knew he had fucked up as soon as the words left his mouth, knew he said the wrong thing, and felt like shit as soon as he realized it.

He picked up his phone, scrolling through until he clicked on Finn’s name. He thought about calling the florist first, but he knew if you hadn’t come to bed that sending flowers with an apology wouldn’t even begin to fix it.

He would have to truly go to the source of the problem.

“Hello?” Finn answered, voice cracking as he spoke. 10AM and the phone ringing was the only reason he woke up.

Tommy shook his head.

“What the fuck is your problem, Finn?”

“Morning to you too, Tom?”

“Fuck off. You come into my house in the middle of the night, piss off my wife, and then want a warm welcome?”

He groaned, the sound of sheets kicking around before he spoke, “I don’t remember a thing, Tommy. I swear.”

“You don’t remember a thing? How does telling Y/N that she’s not Charlie’s mother sound? Ring any fucking bells? Because I don’t even know what you said, but I know you fucked up.”

Finn grumbled.

“It’s time you start being responsible for your actions, Finn. Everyday I feel like you’re pushing against everything I’ve built trying to fucking topple it over.”

“Tommy, I’m not—“

“Then start fucking acting like it and row the boat in the same direction as the rest of us!”

“Okay, Tommy.”

“I’ve got you going in to the old BSA factory starting this afternoon. 12 hours shift, six days a week. Should keep you out of trouble and help you repay all the money you owe Arthur and I.”

“But—“

“Finn, you talk big and throw our name around like you’re the one that’s made it mean something, but you need to start acting like it, because right now, you’re far from it.”

The line was silent as Tommy waited for another round of protesting but none came.

“Now, think of a good apology for Y/N, and get the fuck out of my house.”

He ended the call, tossing the phone to the far side of the desk.

You hadn’t messaged, hadn’t called, and there hadn’t even been an email sent that he’d been CC’d in on that morning.

He buried his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars. He hadn’t tried to call you either. What was there to say? He had fucked up, he knew it, and he feared one of these days you wouldn’t accept his apologies any more.

Two sharp knocks at the door came before Lizzie peeked in, “Everything okay?”

Tommy shook his head, leaning against the open window before lighting a cigarette, “No, but we’ll manage.”

She hummed, setting a folder down on the desk, “Want me to check on her, I need some papers signed anyway.”

“Don’t make it obvious, yeah?”

Lizzie nodded, departing silently.

Looking down at the people traversing the sidewalk, he just wanted to rewind everything, go back to Sunday and enjoy you and the peace and quiet of the house all over again. Back to normal.

He knew how much the attitude of other people toward you not being Charlie’s biological mother had killed you in the beginning. The school he had been in, before being transferred to a better one, had always given you issues picking him up. Prying mothers asking questions that were none of their business. Letting you know they could never love someone else’s child like their own.

It was supposed to be easier when you got married.

He watched in a somber mood the rain started, as if the world knew how he felt on the inside.

You had never treated Charlie like he wasn’t your own. When he would have a nightmare, when he was still small, you always put him in the middle of the bed to keep him safe. You bandaged cuts and took care of bloody noses.

You had decided when you ended up in the hospital, terrible stomach pain, and the result in the end only being able to look at the 12 week formed baby once before throwing up that the two of you would just tell Charlie it had been a stomach problem that put you there.

No one else in the family needed to know.

(Of course Polly knew; about six weeks along she had told you to take a test, but you had assumed you had missed your week just due to stress.)

You were the one that held everything together for the two of them, now.

You had been the one that warned Tommy that Finn was going to be a bad influence on Charlie long before the issues actually started.

He knew you deserved much more than a proper apology. He needed to listen and start putting his own household first, stop trying to fix everything else.

Tommy rose from the window frame, jaw tense before resigning himself to the fact that calling the florist wouldn’t be a fix, it wouldn’t even be an apology. But it would be a start.

#tw miscarriage #tw child loss #tommy shelby x yn #modern au #modern!tommy shelby #modern tommy shelby #modern peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic

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mydear-corinthian · 28 days

Text

Protection || Thomas Shelby x reader

Synopsis: You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home. Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured, gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, Grace's being mentioned once - s2 spoiler Notes: Not proofread, grammatical errors, GIF is mine Click here to find the main masterlist. Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.

As another regular evening took place, a sense of peace descended over Thomas Shelby and his wife's shared home. While Tommy was busy with his business and papers, you found yourself wandering the enormous area of the estate with your young son, Charlie.

Marriage with Tommy wasn't for the faint of heart. You were highly aware of the ongoing danger that accompanied his lifestyle, the circulating threats and enemies that followed your husband's every step. Despite the obvious risks your love for him remained strong. You treasured him not as an infamous gangster, but as the man who made you feel valued, protected, and appreciated.

There was nothing but silence in the huge home; you could hear the clock ticking and the curtains flapping as the breeze shook the cloth. It was a Saturday night, so the maids weren't working, leaving you and Charlie alone. Charlie's eyelids were going drowsy as you cuddled him, softly caressing his back and humming his favorite lullaby. Looking at the clock, you realized how late it was, and Tommy hadn't returned home yet.

You heard the main entrance door open with a loud bang. Although it seemed strange, you assumed Tommy was just returning from a stressful day at work. Charlie woke up from his sleep and let out a loud cry when you heard gunfires as you were ready to leave your shared room. You were so terrified that you thought your legs were paralyzed. Without wasting any time, you grabbed Charlie and put his little body against your shoulder, giving him a tight hug.

With Charlie in one hand, you dashed to the door, locked it almost instantly, and took out the Enfield No. 2 six-bullet handgun that your husband had given you as a birthday present from the nightstand's drawer. You grab the gun and duck into the shared bedroom's bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

The room was filled with the sound of the little Shelby's piercing cries, which seemed to come from every corner. You tried so hard to soothe him, cooing softly, but all it did was make his cries louder and more echoing through the walls. As you tried to calm him, your hands trembled with fear and your fingers stuttering, a sign of your growing terror running down your face. You felt powerless in the face of Charlie's constant tears, and you started to search for a way out of the mess.

You started nervously to pray while holding a child in your arms. Tears were beginning to fall from your eyes and the prayers were mumbling on your lips.

Charlie and you were found by whoever was in your shared room as you heard the door slam. Breathless, you lowered your son onto the empty, shallow bath tub behind you and spoke to him to stop crying. and that you will return quickly. When the toilet door opened, two armed men in a hideous black suit and a top hat appeared; they were Billy Kimber workers.

One of the armed men circled around you and exclaimed, "Aye look, it's Mrs. Shelby," as you aimed your handgun at him, your hands shaking with terror. You've never been skilled with a gun. Tommy giving you a gun like that surprised you. He would not stop stating, "You'll use that in the future."

and perhaps the future was today.

"Suprised a Shelby doesn't know how to use a gun. How about we gift Thomas Shelby the lifeless body of his dear wife?" the man laughed. You raised the gun without thinking, your hand steady from the rush of adrenaline pumping through you, and took aim at the man's skull. The bullet cracked sharply and shot out of the barrel, piercing the air and hitting its target with terrifying accuracy. With a bleak proof to your determination, fortune smiled on you as the bullet hit accurate, plunging into the man's forehead with fatal force and instantly taking his life.

Attempting to fire another shot to the other man, you missed.

Suddenly, you heard a bang go off but paid no mind. Attempting to shoot again, you finally succeded; three bullets all over the now lifeless man's torso. The sight of the lifeless bodies made you feel sick but you chose to ignore it as you dropped your used gun to go and grab Charlie and ask for help. You grabbed your son right away, immediately hugging him and kissed his little forehead.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name; Tommy.

His voice reaching out for you made you sigh with relief. Your husband ran toward you as your legs found their way to the stairs to return to him. You embraced him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his manly scent as you exhaled. "Oh god, Tommy.."

She took Charlie out of your arms and gave you a minute to rest in Tommy's calming presence in Polly's comforting presence. Tommy's hand gently cradled the back of your head as you leaned into him, seeking solace from the chaos of the moment in his gentle, comforting touch. His voice, a comforting whisper that passed through the chaos, whispered, "You're safe now, love."

He felt a warm wetness on his dark blue vest, making him break the hug to see what it was.

Tommy's eyes widened in fear at what he saw, and he let out a gasp. Once an image of elegance, your immaculate white evening gown now had a scarlet stain of blood creeping across it, the color standing out against the fabric. The room seemed to spin in a dizzying twister, threatening to paralyze you as the color faded from your face, your face was pale and your vision seemed to spin like a twister.

"Did you get shot?" he worriedly asked. Confused by his question, you looked down at your stomach, seeing the color red slowly colonizing your white evening gown.

"I - I um.. Tommy, I feel dizzy.." your fragile legs gave up, his strong arms catched you almost immediately.

Your eyes were starting to drop, your body was slowly getting cold, your muscles giving up.

"T - Tommy, why is so cold..?"

Fuck, he mentally cursed at the sight that met his eyes. It was as if God had judged him once more. Grace - this seemed so familiar. His fingers were shaking with fear and worry, his eyes were beginning to water, and his heart had stopped.

"We need a medic!" Polly shouted.

He tries to calm himself down by caressing the strands of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. "Please, stay." he begged.

His frustration was boiling over and his impatience was burning in the way he spoke. He gave orders for the medics with a strong edge to his voice, desperation and anger infusing each word as he demanded their immediate presence.

"Tommy.." you softly called his name before darkness took you.

Your stomach hurt and your brain throbbed when you woke up. Beside you, you noticed your husband uncomfortably sleeping on the wooden chair. You noticed that the ash tray on the table stand next to you was filled with used cigarettes, indicating that you had been out for a while. You were trying to sit up and Tommy woke up to the sound of your pained moans. His bright blue eyes met yours. Eyebags developed under his eyes as a result of struggling to sleep due to the chance that you wouldn't wake up anymore.

"Easy, love." he said.

In an attempt to prevent him from harming you, he cradled your back so you could lie down peacefully once more—as though you were a piece of glass that would shatter the moment it was touched.

He deeply blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was there that night. If only he went home early, you and Charlie wouldn't be in this situation.

"Where's Charlie?" you asked right away, your eyes looking everywhere in the room to see if your child was there or not.

"He's with Aunt Pol, (y/n). He's safe with her, don't worry."

With both of his hands clasped around yours, he sobbed out loud in front of you, unable to stop himself from crying. He felt responsible, guilty, and like a terrible partner for failing to give you protection.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he cried as he apologized, kissing your hands.

You smiled softly as you placed your right hand on his face for him to look at you.

"It's not your fault, Tommy. The good thing is that me and Charlie are safe." reassuring, you gave him a weak smile.

"I thought I lost you." he exhaled in exhaustion, standing up as he kissed your head.

"I would never leave you, Tommy."

"Please don't."

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders angst #angst with a happy ending #x reader

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mistress-riddle · 6 months

Text

𝐌𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐁𝐘.

✐ 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

cw - tommy shelby x mother! reader. reader has a daughter and tommy is not the father lol. mostly fluff and humour, tommy beefs with an almost 4 year old but what’s new?

a/n : this was a request however i lost the actual request 🤷🏻‍♀️

"sweetheart, are you ready?" [name]'s voice rang throughout the house as she finished placing her coat over her outfit, rummaging through her purse to see if she had enough money to do her shopping shortly after.

"yes, mummy!" came the reply from her daughter in a sweet childish voice as she ran up to her mother who held her arms wide open for her baby to run into and balance on her waist.

she took sight of dana's face with her chubby cheeks and felt overwhelming affection cross through her "come here!" giggles erupted into the air as [name] peppered kisses all over the little girls face.

"alright, little bug," she says as she sets her down and looks directly at her "we need to go to the market but before that we'll go and see mister curly, is that good?" she asks the girl and in return receives a nod of glee.

"good, let's go!"

hand in hand, [name] and her daughter exited their house, arms swinging merrily as they made their way to the stables curly worked in. it was fate that they stumbled upon the place during one of their strolls intended to familiarise themselves around the city, having just moved to small heath less than 4 months ago after the death of the patriarch of the family.

small heath, despite its unpleasant parts (it seemed quite grime and dirty most of the times), had its charms. the people were alright — curly was friendly! — and it was not extremely hectic like london was. at least she thought so, she heard about something called "peaky blinders" mentioned every now and again but they were usually in hushed whispers and she found that it did not concern her as she lived peacefully with her daughter.

"good morning, mister curly!" [name] greeted curly upon their arrival. dana was quick to detach from her mother and approach curly with an eager smile and hug. the kind man took it in stride and with an equally jovial smile and he was quick to lead the young girl to the beautiful horse snacking on the scattered hay before it.

"a good morning to you too, missus [surname]" he replied shortly after, tipping his head in greeting like a gentlemen and a smile made it's way onto the widows face as she turned to look at dana rubbing her face against one of the horses fur.

"dana, we won't spend long here alright?" a pout formed on her daughters lips at the declaration and [name] mentally prepared herself to win whatever argument that would rise from her daughter.

"okay, mummy." the girl sighed in defeat and [name] approached her to press a kiss on the crown of her head for being an obedient child before she pat the horse her child was caressing.

"what was he called again, love?" [name] asked as she turned to look down at her daughter who smiled brightly. she loved animals but horses in particular seemed to have caught her little self's attention.

"he's moby, mummy," dana said, hands resting on her waist much like her mum would often do "you should know that."

"I forgot sweetheart, must be turning old." she chuckles and checks her watch before patting her daughters shoulder "now, let's get going, honey."

"goodbye mister curly!" dana waves at the man who waves back and [name] gives a milder wave of her own. the two begin to walk slowly to the market as the mother starts to instruct dana.

"hold onto my hand or my coat at all times, okay?" she tells her daughter.

"yes, mummy."

"I don't want you to get lost, babygirl. I'll get you a treat for being a good girl, alright?" [name] pinches her cheek when they arrive at a stand in the market and she starts checking the items being sold as the man behind the cart occupies her attention.

dana's attention, however, is captured by the neighing of a horse nearby and she gasps at the sight of moby striding through the streets with an unfamiliar man settled upon him. she is quick to leave her mothers side to get a better look at the man who stole moby. once he catches sight of her, he slows the horse to warn the young girl.

"out of the way, love." he says. voice gruff and so unlike the tone her mum would use to warn her and so dana stubbornly shakes her head and crosses her arms. he watches her as she watches him, a deep frown settled on her lips and eyebrows set in passionate defiance. anyone could see that the girl was not going to comply with anything and so the man sighs and mounts off the horse. he holds the reigns in his hand as he begins to head towards the girl with the horse following and takes his place in front of her, kneeling down to meet her gaze.

"can you move out the way, please?" he repeats, tone much softer this time. the girl still shakes her head and the mysterious man wearing a peaked cap shuts his eyes in annoyance.

the words she says causes him to flash his eyes open--

"sir, that horse is not yours."

she says it with so much confidence and certainty that he finds himself confused as she points towards the horse planted firmly behind him.

"pardon?" he asks, bafflement evident on his expression.

"how can you steal him from mister curly? mummy told me stealing is very rude and not nice. so stealing from mister curly is very rude and very mean. what if I went into your house and stole something important from you, would you not be sad? because I know I would."

in the midst of this occurring, the citizens of small heath take in the spectacle before them. eyes trained and mouths agape at the sight of the most dangerous man in birmingham being scolded by someone, nevermind a little girl, about stealing of all things.

tommy's face relaxes "first off, this is my horse," he claims, running a hand down monaghan boy's head "second, where's your mummy?"

"she's shopping" she quickly answers, dismissing him "but I'm here to stop you from stealing moby, mister thief."

"moby? mister. thief?" tommy repeats in mild amusement as his brow arches.

"dana, sweetheart, where are you?" [name]'s voice calls out and she breaks through the crowd to see a man kneeling with a hand shoved into his pocket in front of her highly irritated daughter.

"what's going on here?" she asks as she arrives to stand behind her daughter with her hands placed collarbones, hugging her body close to her torso in protection as mild panic settled onto her pretty features.

"I'm assuming you're the mum?" the man asks as he stands up straight and [name] takes this opportunity to scan his appearance thoroughly. he was a good looking man, seemingly based on the attire he bode, she took notice of the cigarette he almost wore as an accessory.

"you're right, is there a problem?" she confirms and levels his gaze despite how piercing it was.

"this little girl-" the man was interrupted by dana turning in her arms with angry tears threatening to spill from her eyelids "mummy, this man stole moby from mister curly and he's not wanting to give him back!"

[name]'s eyebrows furrow together as she looks at her daughter before lifting her head to see the man roll his eyes.

"miss," he interjects "your daughter will not allow me to pass despite my ownership of the horse, curly is my employee." he clarifies but dana just turns to [name] to rebut as she's not convinced.

"mummy, tell curly to come here and see if this man is telling the truth." the older woman was about to deny her request but dana widened her doe eyes and persisted and so, [name] sighed as she told her to stay in her spot before hurrying over to the stables nearby.

"I don't have time for this." tommy goes to move but dana screams in protest and he freezes.

"stop that." he demands the girl and she sticks her tongue out at him and if this situation wasn't a bit irritable on his behalf, he would have laughed but that didn't stop the half scoff, half chuckle from leaving his lips.

"fine, I'll stay until 'mister curly' shows up." dana moves closer to the man to pat the horse.

"it's fine moby, I'll save you from this mean man." she says in a loud whisper and tommy merely raises an eyebrow at her.

"alright everyone, keep moving." he claps his hands together beckoning the onlookers to briskly walk away and proceed their previous activities.

"I'm so sorry, sir." curly limps over to the man who just nods as a sign of dismissal of the apology and motions to the child clutching onto the horse.

"dana, come 'ere." curly takes the girl away to explain to her and [name] stands before the man and offers him an apology of her own.

"I'm very sorry, mister shelby?" she says with a bit of an intonation at the end and the man nods "we're new here and not really sure as to how this place works, I'm very sorry if my daughter offended you in any way and ask you to forgive her for she is merely a child."

"I'm not a monster, despite what you might've heard." he chuckles "she's a loyal child who wants to stop something bad from happening to someone or something she loves, you raised her good." he nods, as if agreeing with himself and looks at the girl who was walking guiltily over to the two and [name] gives a small smile in return.

"thank you, is there anyway we could make it up to you?" she asked, picking up her daughter to rest on her hip.

"well, I'd like an apology from this little lass" he taps the tip of dana's nose and she crinkles it cutely in response "and an address from you." he says after a bit of a pause.

"address?" [name] inquires, confused and intrigued as well as worried.

"fear not, I'm not the grim reaper asking for your souls." he smirked as he caught [name] looking apologetic at her hesitance, lower lip released from the clutch her teeth had against it "I'd like to invite you both to something."

"I see," [name] smiles with a nod before whispering in dana's ear something and the little girl looks at the man with a frown on her lips.

"I'm sorry for saying bad things about you mister, it was wrong of me and I'm very, very sorry." she looks at him with teary eyes.

"you're alright," he pinches dana's cheeks softly "I'm sure moby would appreciate you trying to protect him."

"can I still see him?" she asks, hope lacing her words and the man nods.

"thank you, sir!"

"thank you a lot, mister shelby."

"anytime, miss?"

"[surname], [name] [surname]." she flashes him a smile before taking her leave with her daughter still in her arms who gives the man a big smile that has him returning a smaller one.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby scenario #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders

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queenshelby · 7 months

Text

Business As Usual (Part Five)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning: Arranged Marriage, Angst, Cheating

Words: 1,678

NOTE: THIS IS MUCH DARKER THAN WHAT I USUALLY WRITE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Just as you heard the shots and Tommy walked outside, your heart raced in fear. Your body trembled with anxiety, realizing how dangerous your life had become since marrying into the world of the notorious Peaky Blinders and, even though you grew within the ranks of the Mafia, you had always been sheltered from the dangers of the underworld.

But this did not mean that you could not protect yourself. Your father had taught you how to shoot when you were just a child. Taking one step backward, your hand thus instinctively reached out to grab the gun resting elegantly yet threateningly upon Tommy’s mahogany-finished desk.

Your fingers brushed over the cool metal surface, feeling an almost primal connection to it. The click echoed through the vastness of the room, reminding you of all those years ago – practicing until your aim became perfect, steady. This was what you needed now as there was no way that you would rely on anyone else to protect you and the unborn child you were secretly carrying.

You heard another shot being fired outside before gripping the gun firmly, pushing past the panicked fear swirling inside you.

As you stepped forth onto the porch area where Tommy was standing, he immediately snapped, telling you to go back inside.

"I told you to stay inside!" His voice boomed throughout the night air like thunder, causing birds to scatter and leave their perches just before another shot was fired from somewhere down below - close enough to raise alarm bells in both of your hearts. Fear and adrenalin coursed swiftly through your veins, urging you both to act decisively amidst uncertainty.

"Who is it?" your voice quivered slightly as the words left your lips, betraying your growing fear.

"Someone whose got out for you and your fucking family. Now go back inside!" Tom's command came sharply, cutting through the oppressive silence that had fallen upon the gardens below. But despite his tone suggesting authority, his face revealed hesitation mixed with anger, making clear that while he knew better than most, leading such a brutal organisation carried its own set of burdens. As his gaze shifted towards the ground, you couldn't help but notice how his usually cold exterior softened, replaced instead by vulnerability which only served to intensify the desire simmering beneath the surface.

With Charlie inside, he knew not to let this stand and, just after you indeed walked back into the foyer of your large residence, your husband ought to investigate the disturbance.

His presence commanded attention wherever he went. He strode purposefully forward, his powerful legs propelling him quickly along the front yard of Arrow House.

His mind conjured up images of the enemies he had vanquished and friends made, allies lost...all these memories seemed to whisper in his ear as he approached closer to the place from whence the shots were coming. His chest tightened at the thought of losing more comrades, especially when they faced challenges like this. It was a constant struggle, and although some may deem it glamorous due to popular culture portrayals, Tommy understood well that leadership wasn't easy nor glamorous, requiring endurance, tactical thinking and, above all, sacrifices.

Meanwhile, you walked towards the back of your large house to also investigate where the shots were coming from. Feeling anxious and worried, adrenaline flowed through your veins, leaving your hands clammy and your stomach knotted.

You knew that someone was in your house, intending harm to either Tommy or yourselves. Slowly, stealthily, you moved further into the hallway of your home, peering around corners and into rooms to ensure nothing escaped your vision. All the while, your ears strained to pick up any sounds indicative of danger nearby.

Suddenly, you caught sight of movement behind the sofa at the far end of the living room, and you instinctively raised your weapon, ready to defend yourself if necessary. Just then, something fell through the air from behind you.

Before you could react, the silhouette of a tall looking man emerged from behind the furniture, lunging toward you with a savage grace. With lightning speed, you raised your arm and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet flying straight towards your target. There was an audible scream followed by a sickening crunch, and then eerie stillness returned once again.

For a moment, you stood motionless, heart pounding wildly in your chest. It took several moments for you to realize what you had done.

Adrenaline surged through your body, and you felt numb. Your arms shook violently as you dropped the gun onto the floor, its sound reverberating across the silent house. You hadn't realized how much your body ached until you finally stopped firing. The pain radiated from your shoulder down your arm and into your wrist as you too must have been shot.

You covered your arm with your hand, trying to stop the bleeding as you looked downward, seeing the victim laying sprawled lifeless beside you before you heard yet another shot being fired outside, causing you to jump.

The sudden noise broke the spell, bringing back the harsh reality of the situation. Realization struck hard, as your heart hammered fiercely in your chest, your limbs trembling involuntarily. Adrenaline filled your system, causing your pulse to race erratically. Gulping down your terror, you managed to regain control over your shaking knees and picked up the gun you had fired just moments ago.

You raced outside, determined to find the source of the last shot fired. Outside, darkness loomed heavily, providing ample cover for potential attackers. The rain began to fall, creating puddles everywhere as you searched frantically for anything unusual that might indicate the presence of hostile forces. Glancing nervously in every direction, you tried to maintain focus while battling against fatigue and discomfort caused by your injury.

Finally spotting something suspicious near a group of bushes, you slowly edged closer, pointing your gun directly ahead as you steadied your breathing.

This is when you saw her. The woman you hated the most, holding a knife against your husband's throat while Isiah Jesus, another member of the Peaky Blinders, was pointing a gun at her.

Her hazel eyes held a mixture of determination and cruelty, contrasting starkly with Tommy's own intense gaze fixed on hers

Carefully, you approached the group and, in her panicked state, Laura did not notice you until your gun was pointed directly at her head.

"Drop the fucking knife or I will blow your brains out," you warned her, taking care to remain calm and composed. Your heart pounded in your chest, knowing full well that this situation was beyond treacherous.

Laura, however, remained unfazed, seemingly reveling in the fact that she was putting Tommy and herself in grave danger. Her resolve appeared ironclad, hinting at an underlying reason behind her actions that you didn't understand, but your primary concern at that moment was getting Tommy safely out of the line of fire, simply for Charlie's sake.

"You should join my side, Y/N. He is using you and so is your family," Laura argued defiantly, clearly wanting to cause havoc.

"Says the woman with no fucking morals whatsoever," you retorted, feeling your blood pressure rise as you struggled to contain your rising temper.

Isiah merely watched with grim detachment, waiting for orders from Tommy and sensing that things were about to get ugly very soon.

Realizing that arguing wouldn't solve anything, Tom decided to take action. His decision was final, showing the strength of his convictions even during times of crisis.

"Now drop the knife," you demanded again forcefully and, just as you spoke the words, Tommy grabbed her wrist tightly in an effort to push her away.

Laura, of course, put up a fight and it was this fight which caused you to lower the gun and shoot, aiming directly for her knee cap. The loud crack of the gunshot echoed around the neighborhood, startling nearby animals awake and bringing people to their windows wondering what was happening outside.

She cried out in agony, falling to the ground with a grimace painted across her face.

"This is for sleeping with my fucking husband," you seethed before uncocking your weapon.

Turning to Tommy, you asked him one simple question, "Why her? Why would you choose her?" This time, your hurt manifested itself in a palpable way, striking Tommy squarely in the gut as he contemplated your query.

He sighed wearily, running a hand through his dark hair in a characteristic gesture that belied his turmoil within. "It was business, nothing more," he said weakly, unable to meet your eyes.

But his eyes told another tale, and you recognized that look of guilt etched across his features.

"She fucking played you," you muttered under your breath, turning away to avoid further confrontation.

As you stepped away, moving past Isiah and heading towards the house, tears welled up in your eyes - the result of the betrayal, fear, and confusion swirling inside you.

"Get her away from my fucking house and put a bullet in her head if you want to, Thomas! I don't ever want to see this woman again. Do you hear me?" you spat after having turned around momentarily. Your heart pounded madly in your chest, threatening to escape from your ribcage altogether.

Pain seared through your injured arm, forcing you to grit your teeth against the waves of agony crashing upon you. Ignoring the debilitating pain, you pushed open the door leading back into the living room. Inside, everything looked as though chaos reigned supreme—the mess of torn papers littering the floor bore testament to the urgency of the encounter that had unfolded earlier. Dread settled in your bones as you trudged through the broken glass and discarded documents, eventually reaching the staircase leading to the second level.

Tears threatened to overflow as you climbed the steps, wincing slightly at the sharp prickle of pain coursing through your wounded arm.

Desperate to distract yourself from the overwhelming mix of emotions raging within you, you attempted to focus on your physical injuries instead. The bullet lodged in your arm had now begun to throb insistently, accompanied by a steady trickle of blood oozing outwards.

You knew that you had to attend to your injuries now but you almost had no strength left within you to do so until, eventually, you heard a familiar voice from behind.

"I will take you to the hospital, Love," Tommy whispered softly, his tone laced with an unfamiliar tenderness. It seemed as though he genuinely wanted to comfort you despite all that had transpired tonight. And suddenly, your anger started to fade somewhat, probably because you were exhausted.

Inhaling deeply, you shook your head, knowing that there would be questions.

"No. You can get the bullet out," you replied stubbornly, unwilling to let anyone else help you. As strong as you may appear, you knew deep down that it wasn't really you, but rather pride keeping you standing upright in those shoes. Even as you clenched your jaw, attempting to hide the pain, your legs wobbled beneath you like jelly.

"I would, if you weren't pregnant," Tommy responded, a hint of regret evident in his tone.

Hearing these words, shockwaves of emotion coursed through you as you absorbed the truth hidden within those little words: 'pregnant'.

Your entire world shifted abruptly as gravity lost its meaning and the air became heavier. Reality crashed down on you mercilessly, leaving you stunned. Your child...his child, conceived amidst the chaos and violence that surrounded them daily.

"You know that I am pregnant? How?" you asked, seeing that you never told him. The uncertainty in your voice revealed both your surprise and disbelief.

Tommy nodded solemnly, acknowledging your astonishment. "Frances became to notice. She told me and I figured that you were going to see someone about it," he explained.

"I couldn't terminate the pregnancy, no matter how much I wanted to Thomas," you admitted, your voice low and somber.

There was a pause between you two before Tommy finally broke eye contact, looking downward thoughtfully. "I understand," he said before taking your hand into his, giving it a gentle squeeze, and then leading you to his Bentley.

Tags:

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#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction

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acewritesfics · 5 months

Text

First Christmas | TOMMY SHELBY

⚠️ THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY MAIN BLOG @/DLMLUFICS. UNFORTUNATELY, I HAVE TO DO IT THIS WAY. MORE INFO IN MY PINNED POST.

©️ no one has permission to copy, translate and/or repost my works on here or anywhere else.

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: No

Fic Type: Blurb

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 563

TOMMY SHELBY MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

A/N: Since it's Christmas Eve where I am, I thought I would repost the one Christmas themed Peaky Blinders fic I do have. I won't be back to reposting until the 3rd of January (hopefully). I hope everyone has a wonderful and safe Christmas and New Years.

"Good boy," Tommy says as he picks up his oldest child's platter of biscuits and hands them to him. "Put this out for Santa, for his whisky."

Y/N smiles from the sofa as she watches her step-son lay the platter of biscuits they had baked earlier in the day near the fireplace as Tommy sets a glass of whiskey next to it for Santa.

"Alright off to bed now, Charlie. Say goodnight to Y/N and your sister," Tommy orders the young boy.

"Goodnight, Rosie. Goodnight, Y/N," He kisses his newborn sister's head before kissing his stepmother's cheek.

"Goodnight, Sweetheart, sleep well," Y/N smiles as he walks out of the room to go to bed.

Tommy stands and walks over to the sofa, where he sits next to his wife, who is cradling their three-month-old daughter. He leans back against the back of the sofa, his arm across her shoulders, admiring the two most important ladies in his life.

Last Christmas, neither of them could have predicted this moment. Their romance was a whirlwind. They'd met last November, when Y/N moved from Norwich to London, carrying the shame of a divorce after finding her husband cheating with his brother's wife. The two immediately bonded, discovering something in each other that they couldn't find in anybody else.

In January, their friendship grew into something more, and at the end of March, they found out she was pregnant. Three weeks later, they married in a tiny ceremony attended only by Tommy's family.

Rosemary Anne Shelby was born in early October with a strong set of lungs. Her cries were loud enough to alert the entire hospital that she had arrived. The baby is a spitting image of her father, with Tommy's dark hair, mesmerising blue eyes, and button nose, but she was also showing signs of having her mother's attitude, especially her stubbornness, which Y/N claims she receives from both her and Tommy.

Charlie loves his new sister and has been devoted to her since before she was born. He wouldn't let Rosie out of his sight during the first few weeks of her life. Bedtime was especially challenging for the small family. When Charlie learned the baby was safe in Tommy and Y/N's bedroom with them, everything calmed down. Both Tommy and Y/N have been amazed by Charlie's connection with Rosie. They had been worried that Charlie wouldn't take well to no longer being the only child.

Tommy breaks the silence in the room by stating, "This is our first Christmas together."

"It is," Y/N smiles happily, her head resting on her husband's shoulder. She hadn't expected her life to turn out this way, but she wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

She loves their daughter, she loves Charlie as much as she would if he were biologically hers, and she loves Tommy more than any other man she has ever loved before him.

Tommy kisses her head and stares down at his sleeping daughter in her mother's arms. "You put her in her crib while I make sure Charlie is in bed, and then I'll meet you in our bed."

"All right," she kisses him and stands up, taking care not to wake the baby.

Tommy stands up and follows her up the stairs, going into Charlie's room as she makes her way into their bedroom to put Rosie in her crib.

TAGGED: @girlwith-thepearlearring | @isabbellagonzalezz18 | @forgottenpeakywriter | @rainydayteacups | @bernelflo

#acewritesfics repost #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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captain-fantasy · 1 year

Note

cillian murphy! peaky blinders setting x reader.

could you do a fic where Thomas Shelby and the reader meet at a pub after Grace dies (cuz thomas is high key sad and wants to drink) and some heavy smut happens between both of them.

-🦆anon

Unveiled Hearts - Thomas Shelby x f!reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, alcohol, smut

Grace's death had shaken Thomas Shelby unlike anything had before. He lost his beloved wife, the mother of his child, and the only person he felt would ever truly understand him.

Thomas had retreated into himself, shutting out the world and drowning himself in whatever alcohol would provide momentary comfort. His family had tried to console him, but nothing seemed to make a difference. Instead, he was consumed by his grief, anger, and regret.

One late night, as Thomas sat alone in his study, he heard a knock at the door. He didn't bother getting up to answer it, barely moving his eyes to look at it. He knew it was probably just one of his brothers or Aunt Polly, but when the door opened, and you walked in, he felt something profound within his heart begin to light, something he hadn't felt since he was with Grace.

You were one of the few people he trusted, a confidante who had always been there for him no matter what, even when you were kids. But you took one look at him and knew that something was wrong. His eyes were sunken and heavy, his hair was disheveled, and his clothes were in front of you. The stoic man you once knew was fading right in front of you.

"Tommy," you said softly, closing the door behind you. "What's happened?"

Thomas didn't answer, staring at the floor as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. You walked over and sat beside him, placing a hand on his arm.

"Talk to me, Tommy," you said. "Let me help you."

Thomas looked up at you, the gorgeous blue eyes you loved now filled with pain, his voice full of desperation. "I don't know what to do," he whispered. "I don't know how to live without her."

You didn't try to offer false comforts; you knew that wouldn't be helpful. So instead, you just sat there with him, holding him close and letting him cry.

You sat there with Thomas for hours, listening to him talk about Grace. He spoke of their love, their plans for the future, and their shared dreams. As the night wore on, Thomas' tears began to dry up, and he fell into a deep sleep. You stayed with him, watching over him as he slept and promising to be there for him no matter what.

You watched him until you saw the sun begin to rise, not even noticing how much time had passed since you saw him fall asleep. Then, finally, he began to stir, brows furrowing as small whines escaped his lips. You quickly got up, placing your hand on his shoulder to gently shake him awake and bring him out of his nightmare.

Thomas slowly opened his eyes, confused and disoriented. When he realized where he was, he sat abruptly, looking around the room.

"You stayed with me all night?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded, smiling softly at him. "I wasn't going to leave you alone, Tommy."

Thomas looked at you for a long moment, his eyes less bloodshot and tired, now filled with gratitude and admiration. "Thank you," he said finally.

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Of course, Tommy. You needed a friend."

Your own words stung you a little. You always loved Thomas, but you knew it was wise to just stay friends. Clearly, his way of life was far too dangerous for him to let anyone else in. What happened to Grace just made that even more evident.

As one of the only people he trusted enough to let you see him like this, you knew it must have taken a lot from him to let his guard down, allowing you to see him at his worst. But then, when he stood up, you saw the effects of his work on his body. His arms and torso were littered with scars and healing cuts, and blue, black, and purple bruises mottled across his chest, almost covering his tattoo.

Your mind came back down when he finally stood up, the hardwood floor creaking underneath him. Your eyes followed him as he dressed, watching as he carefully picked everything out, as if putting on a costume that would present himself to the world, covering up the wounds he tried so hard to hide.

It was a while before either of you spoke.

"Listen, I know it's early, but would you like to come back here for dinner tonight? I want to thank you properly for being here for me."

You smiled, looking down for a moment before you nodded, "I'd love to, Tommy. I'll see you tonight."

As you left Thomas's house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope. You knew it was wrong to hold on to these feelings so soon after his wife died, but you also knew that it would be good for Thomas to get out of his hole and start moving on.

You returned to his house adorably prompt, deciding whether to knock or just walk in. You have been to his house countless times, and you were basically considered family, but because of this event, you were unsure if you should–

"How long were you standing there?" Thomas asked, pulling the door open.

"Not too long."

Even though you'd been there before, the atmosphere had undoubtedly changed. Candles were lit, and the room smelled like the dish Tommy had spent all day trying to make. He was never a good cook, but the sentiment was there.

You could tell that he had put a lot of effort into making this dinner special, and it was clear that he wanted to show his appreciation for everything you had done for him.

As you sat down at the table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. You knew that Thomas was still grieving, and you didn't want to do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. But as the night went on, the conversation flowed easily between you. You talked about everything and anything, from the secrets of your past to the hopes of the future. You were one of the only people he allowed to know his past.

When you finished your meal and started to clear the table, Thomas reached out and took your hand.

"I have to tell you something," he said softly, his eyes locked onto yours.

You felt your heart racing as you waited for him to continue speaking.

"I know this might not be the right time, and I know that people will talk shit about us, but I can't keep it inside anymore," he started. He had a lot to drink during your dinner, and you heard his words slur when he walked closer to you. The smell of whiskey on his breath burned your nose.

"You're drunk, Tommy. We shouldn't–"

"Stop, just stop," he spoke, wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling you closer, forcing you to listen to him.

"You've been the only constant in my life since we were kids, y/n. I was an idiot to not see it before." His hand moved from your wrist to wrap around your waist. "All I've been thinking about for weeks was you."

Your eyes never left him. You were looking for any sign of a lie, but he was serious as far as you could tell.

"I've felt so guilty, but I can't be without you anymore." he finished, waiting for you to respond.

You felt the wetness between your legs growing, and you pressed your legs together to try and relieve the ache that had been there since you walked into the house.

"Kiss me, Tommy."

He didn't wait any longer, pulling you close for a deep kiss. The way his body pressed against you took all the air from your lungs, and for the first time in months, he could forget and lose himself in your touch. You moaned into his mouth, tasting the liquor he was drinking just a few moments ago. His hands traveled down your body, resting underneath the curve of your ass, grabbing a handful as he pressed you against the table.

This kiss turned more aggressive before he turned you around and bent you over the table, reaching over to push the dishes he'd been working on all day off of the table. He pulled your bottoms down in seconds, looking at your dripping folds in the candlelight.

"Already this wet?" he teased, "I've barely touched you."

His voice was low in a way you hadn't heard before. His index finger gathered some of the wetness that hat started to drip down your legs, sliding effortlessly through your folds and making you desperate for more of him.

"Please, Tommy, please." You've never sounded so pathetic.

"Easy, sweetheart, I'll give you what you want." His voice got breathier. When you looked behind you, you saw that he had taken his aching cock out of his pants, giving it a few tugs, and lining against your entrance. You whined in anticipation, arching your back and pushing your ass out to touch him.

With one quick push, his entire length was inside of you. The air left your body again, and you relished the breathy moans you heard from Tommy's lips.

His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you were sure that you'd be sore for days when you were done. Tommy pounded into you, almost entirely dragging his entire length out before slamming into you again, the feeling almost too much for you to handle as you felt your orgasm approaching.

This was not making love; it was purely physical. You knew that, and yet, you couldn't help yourself from imagining what it would be like to wake up with Thomas in the morning with his arms around you, hands traveling across his chest as you stared into his eyes while you made slow, passionate love. Not caring about what was happening outside your bedroom.

In another life, you suppose.

You were brought out of your daydream when your orgasm hit you. Your vision turned white, and the fire in your stomach spread throughout your entire body. Tommy finished right after you, the feeling of fucking you through your orgasm too much for him to continue.

As his hips stilled, your heavy breathing became the only thing he heard. Tommy gently turned you around to face him, and for the first time, you found it difficult to look him in the eyes. His hand moved under your chin, carefully cradling your face to have you look at him.

A soft warmth spread through your body as his fingers brushed against your skin. You finally met his intense gaze, and within those piercing eyes, you saw a vulnerability you had never witnessed before. The smell of sex and the weight of unspoken words were heavy between you.

Tommy broke the silence with a trembling voice, "I've been fighting it, but I can't hide it any longer. I love you. I have since we were kids and every day since that."

His confession left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. Emotions swirled within you, a mixture of joy and fear. You had longed to hear him say those words, but now that they were out, a world of uncertainties lay before you.

Tommy continued, his voice filled with sincerity, "I understand if you don't feel the same or if this complicates our relationship, but I couldn't bear another day without telling you the truth. If you have me, I want to be by your side. I'd do anything for you. "

Gathering your courage, you touched his cheek, your thumb drawing tiny circles on his soft skin.

"I love you, Tommy. With everything I have, I'm completely and hopelessly in love with you."

As the weight of unspoken feelings was finally lifted, you found solace in his embrace. The world around you faded away at that moment, leaving only the two of you.

buy me a ko-fi?

#oh well im back #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x imagine #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian smut #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader

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anonymooseforever007 · 1 year

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My Girl (Tommy Shelby x Daughter!Reader) Series

Main Masterlist

Thomas Shelby had a daughter before the war and she was his life in every sense of the word. And then the war went to France and Tommy did too, promising his Y/N he’d be back soon. But a few years past and the war left France and Tommy should have too. ….But this time he never did.

1. It began with the letter K- How the lost got lost…or rather how the lost was forced away…. (WC-1.4k)

2. Snapped Bands- All she wanted was for her father to put a ribbon in her hair… but did he even know where to begin? (WC-3.0k)

3. The Boy in the Bookstore- “This is my favourite book in all the world, though I have never read it.” — The Princess Bride ….There is also a dog. (WC-5.3k)

4. Just Like You- In which things don’t go expected when Lizzie takes young Y/N to the park. (WC-7.3k)

5. Thinking of you, I Live- It's with the memory of you in my mind that gives me strength to live each day. And live I shall with Joy and Fear, with Laughter and Tears, with Friends and Foes and who else knows? I'll live for the life I'll have remembering the one you never got. (WC-6.6k)

6. Bubbles at the Fair- What should have been a peaceful family fair trip still has that hint of Shelby Chaos. John learns what happens, giving Katie to the wrong man, Arthur tries to explain how infants get fed, and Tommy leaves with a mouth tasting like soap. But hey, Y/N and Finn won't stop talking about the fun they've had..... (WC-5.6k)

7. Rolling 'round the Bend- Summer break offers a different sort of freedom than a simple weekend does. And while new memories can be made, there are always some old ones that tend to stick around...no matter how much we don't want them too. After all, if there isn't any darkness, how can we compare the brightness of the light?

Updated 6-19-23

#Tommy Shelby x reader #tommy shelby x child reader #tommy shelby x daughter!reader #tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader

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book-place · 2 years

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I’m thinking about starting to write more for Peaky Blinders… requests?

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #ada shelby #polly gray #michael gray #finn shelby #x sister reader #x reade platoinc #x teen reader #x child reader

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soleilceirinen · 6 months

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Little Girl Blue (Arthur Shelby x barmaid!reader).

Summary: you work as a barmaid at the Garrison. One day you find Arthur drawing something and get curious.

Warning: none.

A/N: English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes.

MASTERLIST (Cillian Murphy) - PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST

You had started working as a barmaid at the Garrison a few months before the Shelby brothers returned from France.

At first, the idea of quitting crossed your mind but you had no other option and needed the job. You had to take care of your little brother, it was just you and him. You had practically raised him since your mother passed away in childbirth and after your father went to France at the beginning of the war to never come back. The boy was all you had left.

Once the Shelby brothers returned, your situation changed. You stopped having problems with some clients, mostly drunk men, just because you were a young woman. Deep down, you had the suspicion that the Peaky Blinders had something to do with the whole situation. Not that it bothered you, now you could walk alone at night and no one would dare look in your direction in the wrong way if they wanted to keep their eyes.

Out of the three of them, Arthur was your favourite. Sometimes you wanted to hold him in your arms like a child and whisper to him that everything was alright. Others, when he was high or drunk, or who knows, you avoided him as much as possible. But he always treated you well, and more than once you had caught him gawking at you from across the pub.

Your next favourite was John, who always flirted with you. You weren’t sure if he was serious or if he flirted with everyone but you were sure of one thing, you didn’t want to become the mother of all his children. And then there was Tommy. He was quite scary, every time he directed his cold blue eyes at you, it made you want to run away and hide. Something about him screamed stay away. He usually ignored you and only spoke to you to order another bottle of whiskey or rum.

That afternoon the pub was quiet. You looked up when the door opened, to see Arthur. He smiled at you like he always did, running a hand through his hair as he headed to the small reserved room he always occupied with his brothers. After drying some glasses, you walked towards the room while drying your hands on your apron.

Arthur didn’t notice your presence, he was focused on what seemed to be drawing something on a piece of paper. From your position you couldn’t see what it was. You knocked on the door frame a couple of times, making the man look up. A look of panic crossed his face but it lasted a few seconds, as long as he folded the paper and put it in his jacket pocket.

"Excuse me Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to bother you. Would you like me to get you something to drink?" You asked quietly, surprised by his reaction.

“Just call me Arthur, love. How many times have I told you?”

“Many times,” you whispered and smiled. He nodded and looked at his watch, frowning slightly.

“It won't be long until they arrive, I think I'll wait for them.” You were about to leave to go back behind the bar when his voice made you turn around. “How is you brother?��

You paused for a second, considering your answer. “Sammy is fine, a few scratches.” Your brother and Finn were friends and they liked to get into trouble together. A couple of days ago they had returned home covered in mud and blood. Neither of them wanted to confess what they had been doing to end up in that state. “If they are such trouble makers now I don’t want to think how they are going to be in a few years.”

Arthur laughed and lit a cigarette. He agreed with you.

From behind the bar you could observe Arthur through the window that overlooked the small room. You approached slowly, without attracting attention. Once again, he was focused on drawing something, but what could he be drawing? He didn’t seem like that kind of person, as far as you knew, he was interested in boxing not art.

“I didn’t know that you liked drawing, Arthur.” You commented, causing him to fold the paper again and hide it from your view.

“I don’t. As a kid I liked it, but I’m not really good at it now.” He excused himself. His cheeks were starting to turn pink.

You leaned over the window and stretched an arm towards him, wiggling your fingers. “Can I see it?”

Arthur shook his head, a few strands of hair fell over his temples. You felt the impulse to reach and put it back in place with your hand, but didn’t.

“It’s not great…”, he muttered sheepishly.

You sighed. He reminded you of a little child. “Fine, you don’t have to show me. But even if it’s not great, if it makes you happy and you enjoy it, it is worth it.”

Arthur nodded and opened his mouth to talk when a familiar face appeared in the room and sat next to him. “What are you talking about with Y/N?”

“That’s not your business, John!” said Arthur, pushing his brother in the shoulder. They were playing, you thought.

Someone clearing his throat brought you back to reality. On the other side of the bar was Thomas, staring at you with his usual icy eyes.

“Sorry, Mr. Shelby. What can I do for you?”

He pointed to the bottles behind you and turned around to join his brothers. You quickly grabbed three glasses and one whiskey bottle and followed him. While you poured them the liquid you could feel John’s eyes roaming over your body and the familiar smell of their cigarettes.

You left them alone to discuss whatever they had to do. It was almost time to close when they came out, Thomas nodded at you and left the Garrison. You continued cleaning the bar surface, tired after the whole day.

“Hey, Y/N, do you want me to walk home with you?”, asked John, looking at you with shining eyes.

You smiled politely at him and shook your head. “It’s alright, John. I can walk on my own, like every night.”

Then, Arthur appeared next to his little brother and patted his back. “Let’s go, John. She’ll be fine,” he said, turning to look at you directly in the eyes, “no one will dare touch her. By order of the Peaky Blinders. Good night, Y/N.”

“Bye, Arthur… and John.”

After that, the only remaining space to clean was the small room. So you started with it, picking up the glasses and the empty bottle as well as emptying the ashtrays. When you tidied up the seats something caught your eye, slowly you got closer and reached for it.

It was a folded piece of paper. You recognised Arthur’s handwriting. Y/N.

With the tip of your finger you traced the letters before unfolding the paper. You couldn’t help but smile at the little drawing. It was rough and simple, definitely not great at all, similar to the way children draw. But it was recognizable, the tiny figure had your clothes, your apron and the same hairstyle you always wore to work.

Arthur had drawn you, and even if it wasn’t a masterpiece, it warmed your heart. Carefully, you folded it again and put it in your cardigan pocket.

Despite his fame, you could tell that Arthur was a good man, a man who had come back from France changed. But, of all the men who returned from the war, was there any who remained the same as the one who left?

#arthur shelby #peaky blinders #arthur shelby x reader #reader insert #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby #arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby imagine

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halfmoth-halfman · 1 year

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a designer dress from heaven and your dirty wedding ring - prologue

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Warnings: none Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: it's finally here, the mob boss!price series! before we start, i want to give a special thanks to the fabulous @mvtthewmurdvck for letting me rant and rave about peaky blinders while i work on this series, to the amazing @valkyriesregalia and @bubble-dream-inc for reading and giving me feedback, and of course to @uselsshuman's discord girlies for hyping me up and giving me inspiration, i love you guys 💜!! || next

You’ve never been inside the famous club, The 141.

Your father had mentioned it to you a few times when you were a child; you remember the admiration— and jealousy— that laced his voice as he weaved tales of smoky backroom poker games and men who’d skin you alive for looking at them wrong.

You hadn’t believed him then, assuming it to be like all the other fairytales and war stories he told from that worn leather armchair— exaggerated tales meant to teach you lessons he himself never followed.

Now that you’re here, though…

You’d expected better security.

It’s almost laughable how easy it is to get inside. With no one at the front and the doors left unlocked, you waltz into a vision straight from your father’s imagination— all deep red velvet and hazy air carrying the scent of cigar smoke and danger.

It’s surprisingly modern with a vintage feel to it. You should’ve expected as much, but you still find yourself impressed. You weave through the round tables and plush chairs— elegantly decorated with brilliant red flower centerpieces sitting atop white silk tablecloths— making your way to the center of the spacious room.

You have the perfect view of the stage from here— directly in the center. It’s gorgeous: hardwood polished to perfection and bordered by thick, velvet curtains— even in the bright white of the blaring house lights, it’s a sight to behold.

“Um, you can’t be in here— we’re closed!”

The voice startles you, but you maintain your composure, turning slowly—non-threateningly— on your heels with a wide, unassuming smile. A long, half-circle bar stretches across the wall opposite the stage, just up a small set of stairs and past the various game tables, lined with golden railings. The wall behind it is completely covered in shelves of alcohol— some you’re well-acquainted with, some you recognize from your father’s private collection.

And there, gathered at the far right end of the black-quartz bar, are three men dressed in black, staring back at you.

“No one told me,” you smile, gesturing towards the front of the club, “and the doors were open.” The men groan to themselves, then mumble to each other. They glance back at you occasionally; you keep your polite smile taking in the rest of the club as they speak.

“Well,” one of the men— the American one behind the bar with a colorful sleeve tattoo and impressive facial hair— clears his throat. “We’re still closed regardless. One of the boys can see you out.”

The other two stand, the handsome one with light eyes and a brown mohawk making his way toward you.

“I have an interview-” all three pause, shooting glances at one another in silent conversation. You dig through the pockets of your denim jacket, pulling out the folded paper and holding it out to Mohawk. The room lapses into silence, so you add, “S’posed to meet with the owner about a singing gig?”

That takes the man behind the bar by surprise.

Mohawk takes the paper from you, unfolding it to read it over. His brows shoot up, eyes scanning the worn words. He turns, holding the page to the third man—the one with short, curly black hair and a scar on his left cheek— who takes it and skims over it. He glances between the paper and you, between you and the paper.

“I’ve got this,” he addresses the other two.

British, huh?

Not what you’d expected.

“This way,” he smiles at you, all charm and politeness as he folds the paper back up and leads you toward a section of booths tucked against the wall off the right side of the bar. You follow, smiling at Mohawk and Bartender as you go.

You slide in across from your interviewer, taking him in as he settles with his hands folded atop the table. He seems young, maybe a few years younger than yourself, with dark skin and kind, brown eyes.

But you can see the sharpness behind those kind eyes.

You know better than to trust a friendly gaze— your left shoulder aching at the reminder.

“Not gonna lie…I thought you’d be older,” you joke. He arches a brow, curiously narrowing his eyes. “You just seem a little young to own a club.”

“Ah, you caught me,” he laughs. “The owner’s my father, but I handle most of the staffing.”

“Oh! Well—” you extend your hand out to him, “—pleasure to meet you, Mr…?”

“Garrick, but you can just call me Kyle.” He shakes your hand, firm but not too strong—clearly practiced. You retract your hand, letting it fall into your lap. Kyle stares at you expectantly, and you give him your best smile.

It’s only a few seconds, but the silence is almost unbearably awkward.

“And you are?”

“Oh, shit. Right.” Heat floods your cheeks; you hope you haven’t fucked this up already.

“Canary.”

“Canary?” He sounds like he doesn’t believe you; you don’t blame him— you wouldn’t either.

“Yeah, like the bird.”

“I’m familiar.”

“It’s…it was an inside joke between my parents that they ended up liking a little too much,” you explain.

“That’s…sweet,” he smiles, a little less taunting now. “Is there a…last name too, Ms. Canary?”

“No,” you reply immediately, “just Canary.”

“Okay then, Ms. Canary-like-the-bird, do you…have a resumé?”

“Yes, I do.” You dig through your bag, pulling out your resumé and handing it to him. Kyle gives a hum of thanks, reading through it with those sharp eyes.

You hope it’ll do; it took you three whole hours to get it done last night.

“No references?” he asks, briefly glancing up at you.

Shit. You knew you forgot something.

“I…mostly worked solo,” you lie, “but I have a couple cards for people I’ve collaborated with.” You reach for your bag like you’re ready to dig through its contents. There are some cards in there; you’re prepared to give him those, but you’re not prepared to explain why a singer would’ve previously collaborated with a real estate agent and a tattoo parlor that’s been closed for years.

“That’s alright,” Kyle says.

Thank god.

“Have you worked in other clubs before?”

“Just one.”

He looks up, waiting for you to elaborate, but you stay silent, smiling back and adding a few bats of your lashes for good measure. He laughs, quiet and to himself, looking back at your resumé.

“I’ll have to run this by my dad—” He sets the paper down, eyes skimming over it once more, “—is there a number we can reach you at?”

“I don’t have a phone…not yet, anyway.”

Kyle looks up at you, surprise evident, but he masks it with impressive speed.

“Alright, Ms. Canary, one more question for you.” He leans back in the booth, arms crossed over his chest as he looks you over— taking in your appearance bit by bit and committing it to memory.

“What are you running from?”

“I— what?” The smile falters slightly, but you see his eyes dip down to your lips, and you know you’ve been caught.

“No last name, no references, no phone…”

“That doesn’t mean-”

“And we haven’t used these—” he holds up the flyer you’d brought with you, “—since I was a child.”

You drop the smile, hands slowly clenching into fists in your lap— your nails drag across the ripped denim of your jeans to dig into the meat of your palms.

“I’m not running, just…” you pause, searching your mind for the right words. ”Starting over.”

Kyle keeps his eyes trained on you, not moving a muscle. You can tell he wants more information.

If you weren’t so desperate…

“My ex was super shitty, and the divorce got real ugly—real fast,” you sigh. “In the end, I let him have whatever he wanted just for the chance to get out, and, as it turns out, he wanted everything. So…here I am.”

There’s a beat of silence before Kyle lets out a low whistle. “My condolences.”

You can’t help but laugh, a small weight easing off your shoulders.

“Well, the bad news is this flyer’s ancient, and we aren’t looking to hire entertainment at the moment. But the good news: we are in need of a cleaner.”

“You pay in cash?” you ask, noticing the twitch of the corner of his mouth as he bites back a smirk.

“We can keep it off the books, no problem. When can you start?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

#captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #captain price #john price #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth talks

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deceitfuldevout · 2 months

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Mercy (Part 1)

Dark!Tommy Shelby x Enemy!Reader

Word Count: +4,034

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Kidnapping, Hostage situation, Manhandling, Mind break, Threats of violence, Forced oral (m receiving), Forced stripping, Gore, Physical violence, Loss of virginity, Forced intrusion, Public humiliation.

Author's note(s): Bringing this back this series 💞

Tommy Shelby has always believed in an eye for an eye. He doesn't care how long it takes. He'll hunt down every single person who's ever wronged him. He finds out that your parents were the ones who informed the woman that cursed his Ruby. Well, he decides to save the best for last.

Since you were a little girl, your parents always warned you to stay away from gangsters. Your entire life being shielded away from any possible dangers. Being part of a clan but residing in the city. Your father had built an incredible wealth for himself. He made sure to shield you from any possible dangers the world had. But nothing would prepare you for this.

You were taken on a Sunday evening, just after church. The men who took you were ordered by their gang leader, Thomas Michael Shelby. Peaky Blinders, they were called. A group of criminals who were only up to no good. You were the first to leave mass, not wanting to partake in conversation with anyone. You decided to sit on the steps of the church, until your mother finishes conversating with the other women. You sigh, already yearning to return home. Knowing your mother, this would take a while.

You look up at the winter sky, hoping it would snow in time for Christmas. A car drives by, and two men step out. You move to the side to let them pass. They approach you, both of them standing on each of your sides. It was at that moment when you knew, they were sent by someone. Because over here, gangsters would only come for someone if they were given the orders to. A scream escapes your lips as you fought them off.

His partner muffles your cries with a rag. You scream at the top of your lungs and cry out, "Somebody help me! Help!" sobbing for them not to take you. What business did they have with you? Nothing good. Your mother is the first to notice your absence. As soon as she hears screaming from outside, she rushes out the church. To her horror she sees you being hauled into a stranger's car. She chases the vehicle now driving off, falling to the ground with a wail. Onlookers of the church try their best to console her.

The peaky men drag you to an abandoned building, the one reserved only for their worst enemies. Where numerous men have met their maker. You're tied to a metal chair, with both wrists and ankles secured. A satchel had been placed on your head. You have no idea where they'd taken you. Tommy doesn’t know if he can contain his anger any longer. It had taken them a while to find your location. A long trail of bloodshed led them directly to the church's doorsteps.

Tommy's men inform him of your parents involvement, how they had spoken of the cursed necklace to Madame. His Ruby was gone now because of it. When he heard of you he became excited. You were their only child. Their prized possession. Tommy's wedding ring feels heavy, and for once, he takes it off before getting started.

The covering is swiftly removed, a man now stands right in front of you. He takes a good look at your petrified expression. Almost as if he were admiring it. A grabs a chair to sit right in across from yours. It's cold inside the building. You could see your breath from the freezing air. He leans in, "Do you know who I am?" he questions. You shook your head. He doesn't like that, "Use your words,"

"N-no..." shrinking into the seat. Tommy doesn't buy it, "You're a liar, y'know? And a lousy one at that," because everyone knows who Tommy Shelby is.

"M-not--" you whine as he squeezes your jaw with a gloved hand. It hurts. He growls in your face, "You will speak when spoken to," he squeezes harder, "Do you understand?" he waits for what you had to say. You look up at him with a tearful look, "P-please this has to be a mistake! I've done nothing wrong!" because of that, he begins to choke you. He voice is deep, sharp, "My daughter had done nothing wrong, yet she was taken from me," he tilts his head, "Did she not deserve to live?"

You don't know what to say. How could you to a man hellbent on revenge? The real question is, what did you do to provoke him? He lets go, leaving the skin raw with visible bruising. Tommy retreats to a desk where assorted torture devices await. He careful inspects each one, examining which tool would be used. He retrieves a scalpel, one used to slice skin and gouge the flesh, "Which part of you do I cut away first, hm?"

You shook your head, now sobbing uncontrollably, "Nononono! P-please!" looking down to your lap to cry. Tommy isn't satisfied, "Look at me," he orders, "Look at me," he doesn't like repeating himself. You hesitantly rise your gaze, now looking up at the man. There's a bewildered look in his eyes. You notice the corners of his lips were up in a faint grin. He whispers, "This is the end...this is the end of your life, yeah?" he drags the blade the side of your jaw. He enjoys watching you squirm.

Tommy looks up at the men standing behind you. He orders them to leave. Now it was just the two of you. What did he have in store? He made sure you get a good look at the blade. It shines in the dim lighting, “You’re pretty, I’ll give you that much,” he brings the knife to your face, “but for how long?” he brings it down to your neck, teasing the collar. He whispers, "From now on, you are my property," he grips your jaw to open, sliding a finger inside, "It was a tongue that gave the order," his other hand digs into the sides of your jaw, forcing your mouth to open.

Tommy brings the knife to it, "Should I cut it out first?" he digs his fingers deep inside, reaching for the muscle. You try stopping him from doing so, even attempting to clamp your jaw shut, to which he began pushing them deeper in. He mimics the way you gagged around them in a mocking manner. You sputter into a sob, begging for him not to.

Tommy then stops, "No...I can't do that...then you won't explain it to me, and I want you to explain," He grips the back of your head to face him. His features are contorted with anger, "I want you to fucking explain!" he spat. Your bottom lip trembles as you say something. Tommy removes his hand to hear what you had to say, "Please...have mercy..."

“Mercy?” He scoffs, "Is that what you want?" it was almost humorous to him, the entitlement you and your family had, “Where was mercy when they took my little girl?” he brings the knife to your neck, it lightly nicks the skin. You don't say a word, too afraid of deepening the cut. He gave you a look of disgust. As if you’d done something terrible to anger him. Like you wronged him before this.

But what? Everyone in town knew there would be nothing to worry about when a blinder would arrive. No one would ever be worried of being targeted, unless they'd actually done something. So what did you, of all people, possibly do to anger a man like Tommy Shelby? You hadn't a clue.

His leans in, his forehead now pressing against yours, "I'm not going to kill you, no..." his mood swings changes, like fire and ice, "I am going to keep you alive for a very, very long time..." He flicks the button of your blouse open with the knife, "I'll have you praying for death," a promise he'll make sure comes true.

You began to plead with him, "No please! Don't do this!" tears began to form, spilling down both cheeks. You knew what happens to people who've crossed the Peaky Blinders. What they did to their victims. Sometimes not even a body was left. The thought of you being cut into a million pieces downright terrifies you, "Help! Someone! Please! Help me!"

Tommy isn't phased, he's dealt with people in denial before, “You can scream all you want, nobody will hear you,” he promises. He finishes flicking off the last button, revealing the swell of your breasts, you panic, "Mr. Shelby please! You're making a big mistake--" Both of his hands shoot for your neck. He held them in place, squeezing as hard as he can. His face nears your petrified one. There's a hint of gravel in his voice, "A lying whore is what you are," he squeezes harder, taking joy in watching you suffer.

Never in a million years would he imagine stooping this low. But this wasn't just any case, it was personal. He loosens his grip allowing you to breathe for a moment. He sighs, clearly annoyed with your behavior. Whatever games you wanted to play, he doesn't have time for, "What did I say about lying?!" Tommy yells at the top of his lungs.

"M'not lying! I swear! Ow!" you whine from his grip on your hair. He leans in and calmly states, "Fine, have it your way," Tommy didn't plan on going easy on you. But after hearing you lie right to his face? Well, he wants to make this hurt, bad. Tommy drags the sharpened tool along the fabric of your skirt. He tears your brand-new church clothes to shreds. Until you were left only in undergarments. Goosebumps began to form on your skin.

Tommy feasts his eyes on the sight of your unblemished flesh. He rakes them up and down, mentally capturing the moment. You looked soft, supple in all the right places. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips. His lids hooded from thinking about the things he would do.

Oh...this was going to be fun.

Tommy Shelby is dead set on one thing and one thing only: Revenge. There is no room for sympathy in his heart. Not after losing his wife, then his daughter. There is no other pain comparable to that. At this point, there's nothing in this world that could change his mind. What happened to Ruby changed something inside him. He would never be the same again.

"There are a few rules," he wants you to know, "Do not fight me, yeah? Or I'll break every last one of your fucking bones," he knows he's strong enough to, "Do not speak unless you're spoken to," the last thing he wants to hear is an excuse, "You are my property, what I say is law," both of his hands cradle the sides of your head. He makes sure you know, he's dead serious, "Am I understood?"

Your teeth can't stop clattering as you shiver a faint, "Y-yes,"

"What will I do with you? Hm? Should I start cuttin you up piece by piece? No...no one would waste their hard-earned money on you," he starts to mumble, "Maybe hire you as one of my whores? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he taunts. Tommy can't help but smile at the way you frantically shook your head.

He bit his lip, as if he were in deep thought, "No, you wouldn't make it, I know your type," he knows your kind very well, bunch of prim and proper pansies, "I should break you in first, mold you, so that you won't think of anything else other than cock," Tommy always had a way to make people squirm with only a few words.

He finds their weaknesses and uses it against them. He thrusts a few fingers deep inside your mouth, enjoying the sounds of your gargled cries. He pumps the gloved digits in and out. Drool spills from the corners of your mouth. Then an idea hits him, "How about I make you my personal whore?" he taunts, "How does the title of 'cock-sleeve' sound?" poking your forehead, "Tat it right...there," twisting a finger into the skin.

All you could do was cry. A deep wail pours from your lungs. Why? Why was he doing this? You haven't done anything wrong! "P-please, if you just listen to me--" a scream escapes your lips as he pulls at your hair. There's a burning sensation on the crown of your scalp. He's done playing games, "What did I say about speaking?" his voice booms.

Tommy's hand hovers over the tray of tools. He retrieves a gag, forcing the straps around your head. He pinches your nose shut, forcing you to part your lips. He secures the metal hooks inside your mouth, forcing it to open wide. A trail of drool leaks out. It's impossible to close it without hurting. He secures the buckles located on the back of your head.

Tommy still held onto your hair, so that you would face him. There's a scowl on his sharp features. His teeth are barred. Just looking at you pisses him off. He spits inside your mouth, watching as you squirm from the act. Your tongue swirls inside as an attempt to get rid of it. He does it again, this time right at your face, then again and again. He wants this to be as humiliating as possible for you. Bound and gagged, like an animal.

Tommy zips opens his fly, he pulls out his semi-hardened cock. He gives it a few lazy tugs before finding the right grip. Then he starts to pump his shaft while keeping eye contact with you. His cold blues stare down yours. Like a predator stalking its prey. He huffs, quickening his pace.

Tommy then grabs the back of your head and forces you to take his cock. He thrusts it as far as he could go. He bucks his hips a few times, groaning at the welcoming feeling of a warm hole. You were like a present wrapped around him. His eyelids shut, his lashes fluttering from the pleasure. He pauses for a moment to catch his breath. His hands are rough, gripping the sides of your head as he starts fucking your mouth.

You have no choice but to take it. He then plunges his member as deep as it could go, stifling your sobs. There are only squelching noises coming from your mouth, just how he likes it. He gives another deep thrust, holding it for a moment as you struggle to breathe. Your nose brushes against his pubic hair. A huge trail of drool and cum dribbles down your chin. Tommy moans, "Fuck yeah...let me fuck your throat..." he throws his head back in pleasure before looking back down at your pathetic form.

He indulges in the sight of you crying out. He could practically feel the scream trapped in the back of your throat, "M'gonna paint you with it..." His breath starts to shorten, "...mark what's mine," Tommy shuts his lids, his nose scrunches as he was close. Your throat was burning from the abuse. Soon enough he came, in hard waves. He shoots a load down your throat, painting the inside to his liking.

Tommy waits for a moment to catch breath. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead from the sweat. He brushes it back with a free hand, catching his breath. His cock was still buried deep inside your mouth. He hisses, baring his teeth while pulling it out. His cum trails from the tip of his cock to your now swollen lips. There's something so sinister about the act that he just can't seem to get enough of. He actually starts to laugh, "You'd let anyone use you, hm?" If he were in a romantic mood, he'd kiss you, make it all nice and sloppy.

But it just wasn't enough. He wants more of you. He cuts the ropes that bounded your hands to the chair, pulling you out of it. One of the first things you do is make a run for it. He groans with annoyance, what a stupid thing to do. Before you could reach the door Tommy plants a few bullets in it. You fall to the ground, shielding your head from the strays.

Tommy sighs, "You shouldn't have done that..." he places his gun back in into its holster, before approaching your quivering form still on the floor. If looks could kill, you would be dead on the spot. You're too scared to even move, trapped under his piercing gaze. Tommy's expression is purely livid. He strides over, his cock still half hard. He curls a finger, giving a nonverbal command. When you dare not to move, it only worsens his mood.

You shook your head, "Please...you don't have to do this..."

"I know, I want to," he confesses, "I want to break you,"

If you didn't want to comply, fine. He'll have to come over there. Tommy's shoe lands on your shoulder, sending you falling to the ground with a thud. He has a leg to each of your sides, now wrestling into submission. His strength is unlike anyone you've met. He forces you on your stomach. You try your best to fend off the gangster.

You land an elbow on Tommy's rib, before he ultimately wins the upper hand. He uses his belt to bind both your wrists together. As you twist and turn, Tommy lands a few hard cracks against your rear. A chain of curses escapes your lips. He doesn't stop, not even after your skin is raw. He'll make sure to leave bruises. When he hears your mumbled, pleas turn into full-on screaming, it was music to his ears. He wonders what it would sound like breaking you in.

Tommy doesn’t bother prepping, he wants this to hurt. He slides his leaking tip up and down, gliding it against your cunt. It takes him a moment to find it. Soon enough, he's pressing his leaking tip against your opening. He held your head still against the ground. His gloved hand spreads across the side of your face. His other held his cock, guiding it to your opening. As soon as he thrusts it in, you scream at the top of your lungs. Fuck did his ears hurt.

A hand shoots to muffle your cries. Tommy scowls, "Fucks sake would you keep quiet?!" he looks you in the eyes, "This isn't your first time," when he says it you only cry harder. That's when it clicked. Tommy grins, "So it is..." there's a hint of glee in his voice. He sounds smug, knowing that he'd taken something from you that no other man will, "Then I might as well take every last one..." he purrs, thrusting his hips faster.

There was something about being a woman's first that does something to a man. Tommy wanted to fuck that innocence away. He's going to train you really well, have you begging for his cock. He'll make sure to ruin you for any other man. He spits on his gloved palm, reaching down to rub at your sensitive bundle of nerves. He can feel your walls fluttering everything he rubs small circles against your clit. He can feel that you were close and quickens his pace.

He grunts, "You keep saying no..." he collects the growing slick from your folds, "But the body never lies..." he juts his hips. A stray of curses escapes his lips as changes pace. He presses his sturdy body against yours. His embrace was suffocating. Tommy only seemed to care for his own comfort, reveling in the feeling of a tight cunt. He tilts his head to face your ear, "When your husband finds out you've already been used..." he has a way to torment with words alone, "You will always remember this...remember me..." he slows his pace, now thrusting deep and slow. He's focused on making you come undone. He wants to be your first everything.

Tommy whispers, "...You’ll remember your first time, being taken by a filthy gangster,” he rasps, licking a stripe against the shell, "First fuck..." he forces your mouth to part, delving his tongue deep inside. He swirls the muscle around, taking his sweet time tasting the corners of your mouth. He muffles your whimpers in the kiss, parting with a smack, "First kiss..." his hand now rubs your sensitive nerves in short, hard circles, "First time coming undone..." he doesn't stop, not even after the waves of pleasure hits you, "All mine..."

Although you were the enemy, you have a snatch that could drain his balls dry. Tommy juts his hips back and forth, feeling for a good rhythm. He grunts against your neck, dipping his tongue out to taste those sweet tears. He moans, "You're going to take every, fucking, drop," thrusting his hips with each word. Just how he likes it, "'Gonna make you pay me back yeah?" he whispers.

Tommy fastens his pace. His breathing becomes ragged, to the point where he can only speak in short curses. He bites down on your shoulder, enough to draw blood. When he finishes inside, part of you felt almost grateful he was finally done. That spark of hope quickly dies out when he starts pressing his tip against your ring.

You've never screamed so hard in your life. You almost feel dizzy from how much pain you were in. Almost passing out a few times. Your comfort doesn't matter to him. After all, you're his property. Tommy locks an arm around your neck, squeezing hard enough to make you faint. You went limp as he began pummeling your channel. It was euphoric to him, seeing the enemy suffering.

Usually, he wouldn't feel this satisfied, not even with a killing, it was more of a chore for him. But this? There was no other pleasure like it, and Tommy Shelby has had a lot of sex. He leaves your bruised and battered body on the cold floor. Blood and spunk oozes from both holes. Tommy begins to dress himself. He doesn't even bother to look at you.

Only when he retrieves a handkerchief from his coat pocket, wiping it against your mound. He presses the fabric against the abused holes, scooping out its contents before pocketing it. He'll need this for later. Tommy doesn't feel any shame or remorse, he can't seem to feel anything. He takes a drag after a fuck like that. It helps him think. What to do, what to do, his options are endless.

There you are, his pet, still panting from earlier like some bitch in heat. He's still riding that adrenaline rush. You on the other hand, were out of it. Mentally and physically. Unable to even whimper because you had lost your voice a while ago.

Tommy crouches down, peering at your expressionless face. He mentally captures this moment, enjoying that foggy look in your eyes. He hums, "Let's get you cleaned up," he splashes a bucket of ice-cold water on you. He leaves you now soaking from head-to-toe. Your undergarments now cling onto your skin, leaving little to the imagination. Tommy forces you to stand. He held you up by the back of your neck with a firm grip, leading the way outside.

A group of onlookers see what's happening. Tommy Shelby, leader of the Peaky Blinders, parading a poor woman who had been stripped of her modesty. He doesn't bother covering your face. He wants people to recognize you. They don’t speak up, afraid of would happen if they would. He hands the bloodied napkin to one of his men, "For the parents," perhaps this will send a message.

Tommy clicks open the trunk, shoving you inside. He slams it shut before driving off to a new location. He knows that word will spread. Soon enough, it'll reach your family's ears. If it's a war they want, then it's a war they'll get. He's not worried at all about what would happen, he knows he has the high ground. He's going to enjoy watching your clan die out.

But for now, he needs to smuggle his new pet out of the city.

#dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby x reader #dark!tommy #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #my work #my works

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mydear-corinthian · 1 month

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Fainting || Shelby brothers x reader

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

THOMAS 'TOMMY' SHELBY

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

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

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

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

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

JOHN SHELBY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ARTHUR SHELBY JR.

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

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

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

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

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

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

🥊 "We'll be fine, right?"

🥊 "We will." THE END

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

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