#tommy shelby & friend reader

[iluvzaddies]

drunk confession

pairing: thomas shelby x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, slight nsfw

summary: thomas shelby walks into your bedroom in the middle of the night and confesses his love for you.

you awoke from your slumber after hearing the door to your room suddenly open in the middle of the night.

you felt your heart pound through your chest, scared that it was one of billy kimber’s men, ordered to harm you as a way to get back at the peaky blinders.

but you needn’t fret for it was only thomas shelby.

thomas was the leader of birmingham’s renowned gang, the peaky blinders, and the second eldest son of the shelby family.

you knew him when he was a young lad. he used to be a troublemaker, always bringing trouble everywhere he went. he laughed a lot too.

you, on the other hand, used to be a loner. you didn’t have a single friend whatsoever. you were always alone, a sad look plastered on your face as you watched other kids getting along and playing with each other. young tommy felt bad for you, therefore, offered to let you play with him and his siblings. from then on, you became close and formed a bond, not only with him, but with his siblings too.

it was sad how much things have changed after the war in france.

the horrors of the war had changed him drastically.

he became a soulless, empty shell.

but there was one thing that didn’t change, and that was his feelings for you.

he always felt a sense of peace whenever you were around. you were a breath of fresh air and a reminder of his childhood days, where he hadn’t gone to the war yet, where he didn’t live a life of crime, where everything was normal.

he didn’t want to admit it, though. he was never good at expressing himself…

…until tonight.

“tommy!” you gasped. “why are you here?”

“because i can.” he said nonchalantly.

“just because you can doesn’t mean you should.” you huffed in frustration.

he shrugged.

“how did you get in my house?”

“key under your doormat.” he drawled, approaching you drunkenly.

you let out a squeak as he collapsed on your bed, nearly crushing your legs.

“okay, congratulations for knowing where i keep my house key, but that doesn’t give you the right to just barge in my house.” you looked at the clock on your wall, checking the time. “especially at three in the morning, you dimwit!”

“‘m sorry… it’s just… i’ve been thinking about you.. a lot– actually, an unhealthy amount. i couldn’t help it. i just wanted to see you again.”

“what?” you blinked.

“you heard me.”

“yes, i did, but…” that was unexpected. “what exactly do you mean by that?”

“by god, woman.” he sat up and you flinched when he started to yell. “how fucking oblivious are you? i’m in love with you, for fuck’s sake!–“

you covered his mouth, shushing him, trying to get him to calm down. you were already dealing with a drunk thomas, who barged into your home uninvited, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with noise complaints from your neighbors.

“please, quiet down, will you?”

he grabbed your wrist, prying your hand off his mouth and guiding your hand to his cheek. he closed his eyes, sighing in bliss, reveling in the warmth of your touch.

“tommy.” you muttered under your breath.

“i mean it, (y/n). i love you. i’ve loved you ever since we were kids.”

was it true?

was it really true?

well, you were aware of the saying: “drunk words are sober thoughts”

and that made your face heat up.

“i–“ you gulped, trying to build up the courage to confess, so he didn’t think it was one-sided. “–i love you too, tommy. i’ve loved you ever since you offered to let me play with you when i had no one to play with.” you moved your thumb up and down his cheekbone. “you may be a dangerous gangster to the world, but you’re just tommy to me. my tommy. you think you’ve changed, but deep inside, that innocent, kind-hearted little boy is still there.”

thomas’ lips curved up, a genuine smile on his face.

you widened your eyes.

it had been so long since he smiled in such a way that you had forgotten just how beautiful it was.

he leaned towards your face and connected your lips together. you were caught off guard, but happily obliged and kissed him back.

he tasted like a mix of cigarettes and whisky. nonetheless, it was amazing.

he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. he entwined your fingers together and with his other hand, he pulled your body against his.

he proceeded to gently place you on your back, with him on top of you, not breaking the kiss for a second.

“fuck, i love you.” he said in between kisses. “i love you so much. i’ve been dreaming about this moment my whole life.“

he roamed his hands around your body whilst you raked yours through his hair.

he pulled away just to get a quick glimpse of your messy appearance before reconnecting your lips.

he slithered a hand under your nightgown and you moaned as his fingers made contact with your clothed clit, rubbing it through your undergarment until a wet patch formed.

he moved your nightgown up to your stomach, fiddling with the elastic band of your undergarment, and yanked it off. he reached down to touch your bare pussy, inserting two fingers inside. with how wet you were, he was able to put them in with ease.

your moans were becoming louder each time he thrusted and curled his fingers against your walls, so you clasped a hand on your mouth to prevent any more noise from spilling out.

he stopped and demanded, “no, let me hear.”

“my neighbors–“

“if they even think about coming here and ruining this, i’ll fucking send them six feet under.”

he scooted backwards, placing his head in between your legs. you could feel his hot breath hitting your core and your core clenched. he darted his tongue out, licking a long stripe up your clit, before attaching his entire mouth onto it. he sucked harshly, eating you out like he was a man starved, making your eyes roll back at the insane amount of pleasure he was giving you.

your vision turned white as the coil inside of you intensified into a powerful ball of energy. and then it bursted, the ecstasy setting all your nerves ablaze.

it felt good, so so good.

he crawled back on top of you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself.

then, he pulled away once more to admire his work.

he loved the way you looked beneath him.

how swollen your lips were.

how breathless you were.

how red your cheeks were.

he loved knowing that your current appearance was caused by him and only him. rightfully so.

“all for me, eh?”

his deep, sultry voice sent shivers down your spine.

“all for you, tom.”

note: help, my unexperienced ass doesn’t fucking know how to write nsfw content. this is so bad.

[queenshelby]

Sweet Possession (Part 6)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Quickly, you closed the lockbox and shoved it back into its hiding place, hoping against hope that Thomas wouldn't notice anything amiss. You stood up, smoothing out your dress and taking a deep breath before making your way up the stairs to meet your husband.

But as you climbed the stairs, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of what you had just discovered. How long had Thomas been watching you? How long had he been planning this?

Was it all just a twisted game to him, luring you into his web of lies and deceit? These questions swirled around in your head, making you feel dizzy and disoriented.

"What are you doing down here, Love?" Tommy asked as you walked towards him as he waited for you half-way up the stairs on which you were now standing.  His voice was gentle, but his eyes held a questioning look, almost as if he knew something was off. You quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind, forcing a smile on your face.

"I was just feeling a bit lonely and thought I'd come down and get a bottle of wine from the cellar," you lied, praying that Thomas wouldn't be able to tell. "Is that alright?"

Tommy regarded you for a moment before nodding slowly. "Of course, it is," your husband told you, his voice still gentle. 

There was a bead of sweat on your forehead, and you couldn't help but feel like Tommy knew exactly what you had found in the cellar. But how could he? It wasn't possible. You had only discovered it just now, and you had been careful not to leave any evidence behind.

Still, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that had settled in your chest. Your heart was racing, and you felt like you couldn't breathe.

You tried to act normal, but every second that passed made it harder and harder to keep up the charade. 

When you walked back upstairs with your husband and a bottle of wine in your hand,  you could barely focus on the conversation.

Every time Thomas looked at you with his intense blue eyes, your heartbeat quickened, and your mind racing with questions that you couldn't answer.

You tried to shake off the feeling of unease, but it lingered like a dark cloud over your head and that could remained there all night, even when you were intimate with the man you married. 

***

The following day, while your husband was out again for business, you went to the cellar again and discovered that there was a methodical process to the way that Thomas had rid himself of any obstacle that stood in his way.

His planning was impeccable, and his reach extended far beyond what you could have imagined.

The information in the lockbox revealed that there was no corner of your past that Thomas had not infiltrated.

He had targeted each and every one of your previous relationships, ensuring that they would end abruptly and tragically. The police reports indicated that the causes of death ranged from car accidents to suicide, but you couldn't help but suspect that he had a hand in each of them.

It was a terrifying realization, and one that made you question everything about your husband and your marriage. It was true that Thomas had always been protective of you, but you had never suspected that he would go to such extremes to keep you by his side.

In addition, you quickly learned that you had also been somewhat naive when it came to thinking that your husband was an honest and reputable businessman.  As you delved deeper into the information contained in the lockbox, you realized that Thomas was not only a gangster, but also a ruthless criminal with a violent streak. You had been aware of his involvement with organized crime, but you had no idea of the extent to which it permeated every aspect of his life.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of disgust and betrayal as you sifted through the documents revealing Thomas's true nature. You had trusted him, loved him, and devoted yourself to him, but he had manipulated you from the very beginning.

You thought back to the early days of your relationship, when Thomas had swept you off your feet with his charm and charisma. You had been so blinded by love that you had overlooked the warning signs of his controlling behavior.

But now, the truth was staring you in the face and you knew that you had leave him without a second thought.

You could no longer bear the thought of his hands on you , his lips on yours. Every kiss, every touch was tainted by the knowledge of his twisted games.

You couldn't help but wonder what would become of you if you left. Would Thomas let you go peacefully, or would he come after you with a vengeance? You didn't know the answer, but you knew that you had to take the risk.

You made up your mind and gathered your belongings. As you prepared to leave, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. It was as if a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

You felt light, free, and most importantly, alive. The thought of the life you had been living up until nowmade your skin crawl. You never realized that the man who you thought was your soulmate, the man you vowed to spend the rest of your life with, could be someone so dangerous and manipulative.

You walked out of the mansion, taking in a deep breath as you walked towards one of the Bentleys and opened the boot.

You placed your belongings inside, before slamming it shut and taking a step back. There was no turning back now, you needed to get away from him and fast.

You slid into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition and putting the car into reverse. As you drove out of the gates of the mansion, your heart raced.

Each new mile that separated you from Thomas felt like a victory, yet it was also tinged with fear. But the thought of never having to feel his icy grip on your heart again made you determined.

You had always known deep down that something was off about Thomas, but your heart had blinded you to the truth. Now, you knew without a shadow of doubt that he was dangerous, and there was only one way to protect yourself - by getting as far away from him as possible.

You had some money on you, but not much. It was barely enough to get you on to a train to London and from there, you'd have to figure something else out. You glanced at the mansion one more time before driving away, your heart racing with fear and anticipation.

As you drove, you couldn't help but wonder about Thomas and whether he would try to find you .

You told yourself that you were being paranoid, but you couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger that had settled in the pit of your stomach.

Twenty minutes later, you arrived at Birmingham Train Station . You parked your car in the farthest corner of the lot, hoping that it wouldn't be spotted by anyone who might be looking for you.

You glanced around nervously, checking to see if you were being followed. Seeing no one, you made your way into the train station.

The station was bustling with activity, but you couldn't help but feel like every pair of eyes were on you. You purchased a ticket to London and made your way to the platform, trying to blend in with the other passengers.

Your heart raced as the train pulled up, and you boarded, taking a seat in a relatively empty carriage. You gazed out of the window, watching the city of Birmingham disappear into the distance as the train sped through the countryside.

The landscape was a comforting distraction from the turmoil of your thoughts. You couldn't believe what you had discovered about Thomas - it seemed like a twisted nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You wondered if he would even notice that you were gone, or if he already had other plans in motion to track you down and it was then when an older looking gentleman took a seat across from you in the train car.

He looked at you in a way that made you feel nervous , but you couldn't put your finger on why. He seemed kind enough, but something about him felt off.

You tried to ignore his gaze and looked out the window again, taking in the picturesque countryside as it rushed past you.

The gentleman across from you spoke up, introducing himself as George. You hesitated for a moment before responding politely, still wary of him.

As the train journey went on, George engaged you in light conversation, asking about your plans in London and your thoughts on the beautiful scenery outside.

You found yourself gradually relaxing in his presence, enjoying the distraction from the chaos of your thoughts while still remaining smart and reserved, not giving anything away about your past or plans for the future. 

As the train pulled into London's Euston Station, George assisted you with your luggage as you disembarked the train but, just as you stepped out of the carriage, George waved towards two men  who were standing near the exit of the platform.

These men didn't catch your attention initially, but their sudden movement towards you made you feel uneasy, and you knew in your gut that something was off.

As such, you took your suitcase from Goerge's hands and quickened your pace, trying to make your way through the crowds of people at the station, but you could feel George and his men following closely behind you. You tried to maintain your composure as a surge of fear coursed through your veins, knowing that you couldn't let them see how terrified you really were.

"Going somewhere Mrs Shelby?" another man then said, suddenly appearing in front of you , effectively blocking your escape route. This man was younger than George, but still significantly older than you and his dark hair and green eyes gave off a cold, intimidating vibe as he scrutinized you with an intense gaze.

You hesitated before answering, trying to keep your voice steady when you finally spoke up. "I-I'm just here to visit a friend in London," you said, swallowing the lump of fear that had formed in your throat. "I don't know why you're bothering me."

The young man chuckled humorlessly.

"A friend, you say? I find that hard to believe, Mrs. Shelby."

His words sent a shiver down your spine. How did this stranger know who you were? Had Thomas already discovered that you had left? Was this man working for him?

Before you could react, the man lifted up his suit jacket, indicating that he had a gun . The sight of it was enough to make your heart stop.

"You are coming with us," he said, his voice as cold as ice.

The words hung heavy in the air, and a sense of helplessness washed over you. The crowds of people passing by paid no mind to the scene unfolding before them, leaving you feeling isolated and exposed.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out of this predicament.

You thought of screaming for help or trying to run past them. But common sense took over, reminding you that these men were trained and likely armed. They could easily overpower you or worse, put a bullet in your head without hesitation.

It was a terrifying thought, one that sent a chill down your spine.

The man with the cold, green eyes studied you for a moment before motioning to his companions. "Take her," he instructed quietly. "But be nice to her. She is precious cargo, and her husband demands that you take the upmost care in returning her to him unharmed," he then chuckled and, before you knew what was happening, rough hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from the crowd and towards an awaiting car. You struggled against their grip, but it was no use – they were too strong.

As you were pushed into the back seat of the car, you stole a glance out of the window.

The busy streets of London were a blur, and you fought back the tears that threatened to fall. You had been so foolish to think that you could escape from Thomas Shelby, the man whose ambition knew no bounds and who stopped at nothing to get what he wanted.

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[runnning-outof-time]

You Asked, I Answered | Tommy Shelby & Friend!Reader

Request: yes by @justrainandcoffee

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Friend!Reader (platonic)

Summary: After finally working up the courage to do so, (Y/N) confesses something she's been hiding from her best friend. Tommy answers in the most Tommy way possible.

Warnings: smoking, language

A/N: thanks for sending this in, Flor! I hope you like how it turned out and I hope you like how I weaved the prompt you sent in! Enjoy! :)

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

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

I'm gonna tell him. I'm gonna tell him. I'm gonna tell him.

That was the statement that (Y/N) kept repeating in her mind as she made her way over to her friend's home on Watery Lane. She had no clue why she was feeling nervous right now, or why she needed to be psyching herself up to do this.

The two blinders standing outside the Shelby residence recognized her immediately. They both tipped their caps to her as they let her enter the home. She didn't have to venture too far in to find him. He was sitting in one of the chairs in the small entry room that the house had.

"Tommy?" (Y/N) called after the sound of the door shutting hadn't been enough to get him to look in her direction. His eyes snapped over to her when she spoke his name, and the distant gaze that greeted her was enough to make the breath freeze in her throat. "Is everything ok?"

Tommy nodded instead of responding verbally, his eyes finding the floor again. (Y/N) frowned and moved over to the chair that was sitting to the left of his.

"Business, hmm?" she asked in a knowing tone as she took a seat. It was obvious to Tommy that 'business' was a code word for the vendetta that the Shelby and Changretta families had been intertwined in for a few weeks now. She didn't want to say the word outright.

"Business," he affirmed with a slow nod of his head, letting out a sigh after he finished speaking.

"Anything I can help with to alleviate your stress?" she wondered aloud. Tommy didn't answer right away, so she continued, "you've always helped me when I needed it, so I'd love to re..."

"No. There's no need for that, (Y/N)," he cut her off, looking over at her as he shook his head. "This business isn't for you to be involved in."

(Y/N) nodded as she heard what he had to say. She wouldn't argue with his response. She just wanted him to know that she'd be there if he ever needed her.

Silence fell between the two of them then, and they held each other's gaze, both not really knowing where to take the conversation next. Of course, (Y/N)'s main topic was bouncing around her mind, just begging to be let out. She just had to wait for the right time. Tommy's mind was a mess of many different things...it always was these days with everything he had going on. (Y/N) said that she'd listen whenever he needed to talk, and she always had when he came to her in the past, but he felt that he couldn't burden her with the stresses he had weighing his shoulders down now.

"Is there a reason you've come over here?" Tommy finally asked. There wasn't any malice in his tone, and (Y/N) knew that his question was far from that. She'd been friends with him for enough years to know that he rarely liked to beat around the bush when it came to getting information. The pleasantries were almost always skipped. That's why she was so nervous to share what she'd been keeping from him for several weeks now.

"I, um...I wanted to tell you something actually," she finally mustered up the ability to say, busying herself by playing with her fingernails so that her nervousness wouldn't fully come through in her words. She wasn't sure how much it worked though.

"What's that?" he questioned, his one eyebrow quirked upwards.

"I've been keeping it from you for a few weeks now..." she trailed off, her eyes finding his again to see that he'd been staring intently at her the entire time. Instantly she felt like she was under interrogation. Tell him, (Y/N)!, she screamed at herself. "And it's not because I didn't want to tell you, it's just that...well more important things have been happening..." she paused again, justifying - or at least trying to - her reasoning for keeping this secret for so long. "I wanted to tell you that...that I, uh, well I've actually..."

"(Y/N)," Tommy's voice was flat, and it stopped her stammering instantly. It was the tone that he used with all of his business associates and blinders that worked under him. The tone that told them they were wasting his time; that they needed to get to the point. Now the former may not have been the case here with (Y/N)'s pauses, but the latter certainly was.

"I've met somebody, Tommy," she finally gathered the courage to blurt out, "and I'm in love with him." The breath got caught in her throat after she admitted her secret to him, and she stared at him with wide eyes. Each second that passed where he didn't speak felt like an eternity.

Tommy opened his mouth to say something, but instead closed it and pursed his lips. He looked away from (Y/N), a tell tale sign that he was thinking over what she'd just said. She hated the fact that she could read him like the back of her hand at that moment. Then, after what felt like forever, he spoke. "I'm happy for ya," was all he said, his eyes finding hers again.

"Thanks," she couldn't help but smile at his response. It wasn't much, but it was what she was looking for...well it was a half of what she was looking for. "I...I need your help," she started then, going back to wringing her hands together.

A look of confusion filled Tommy's features. "With?" he asked, wondering what she could possibly need help with in regards to this front. Did she need him to vet the man? Need him to check and make sure that he wasn't into anything he wasn't supposed to be. That was the type of man she deserved after all: a good man.

"I don't know what to say to him," she admitted, "we see each other quite often, and he's a sweet man...he's really sweet to me, but I don't know how to tell him how I feel."

"Just tell him," was the very basic advice Tommy had to offer, and it was accompanied with one of his famous shoulder shrugs.

"How do I tell him, Tommy?" she asked for more clarification, "because if I could tell him, I would have already."

"I don't know what more to say, (Y/N)," he admitted, grasping at straws as he wracked his brain, trying to think of something more to add. Nothing was coming up. Admittedly, it was hard to even get his mind to focus on it.

"I need advice. I..." she paused, exhaling a breath as she thought about all of the moments where she could have told Ben - the man she was completely enamored with, how she truly felt. She shook her head then, hating how she chickened out every single time. That's why she decided to come to Tommy. He was confident. He rarely, if ever, crumbled in situations like these. And above all, he was her friend. He needed to help her with this. "I need your help with this."

Tommy sucked in a breath and then exhaled it slowly, trying to center himself. He then reached into his jacket pocket and fished out his cigarette tin. Going about the motions of placing one between his lips and lighting it so that he could then take a long drag from it bought him enough time to collect his thoughts. "See how it plays out then," he finally offered another piece of advice. Although with the face (Y/N) pulled in reaction to it, it's hard to say if it could even be called 'advice'.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she questioned, incredulousness seeping into her words.

"You've not found a way to tell him, so just see how things play. Maybe you'll find a way to, maybe he'll come out with it," he explained his reasoning further.

(Y/N) held his gaze for a moment, her mouth opened slightly, showing her surprise. She was trying to think of something to say. There were few times where Tommy had left her speechless. She thought she was used to his out of pocket responses; the way he'd tell the truth without any buffers.

"What's his name?" Tommy asked before she was able to get anything out.

"Ben. Benjamin Martin," she answered, tilting her chin upwards slightly so as to (hopefully) show that she hadn't been fazed by his previous unhelpful advice.

"That's just bad taste," Tommy scoffed, more so to himself than anything, but (Y/N) heard him loud and clear.

"Excuse me?" she scoffed in response, her eyes widening.

"He's the man?" he checked with her.

"He is," she insisted.

"(Y/N), he's a war shy bastard...managed to dodge every fucking draft there was. He's not going to protect you if it comes down to it. He won't be there when you need him."

"He needed to stay. His mother was ill. She needed him to stay and take care of her," she insisted.

"That's what he's told you. His family has money, (Y/N). You surely know that. He was able to buy his way out of it," Tommy didn't waste a moment in sharing the truth with her.

"How can you say this?" she asked him, her brow furrowed deeply. "You're my friend..."

"You asked, I answered," he answered simply with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

"Well it's rather rich of you to respond in such a way considering the fact that your love life is an absolute trainwreck," (Y/N) snapped at him, speaking without thinking. Her mind was still caught on his brash thoughts on the man she was seeing.

"I don't know what you mean," Tommy responded in a dismissive tone, one that told her that he really didn't want to be given any further explanations.

But (Y/N) gave him one anyway. "I know that Lizzie's pregnant. I know that May's come back into town. You're leading one woman on while playing with the emotions of another," she used his ways against him, telling him the truth without any buffers.

"You asked, I answered," he repeated his previous statement, his tone still dismissive.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come to you with this..." she started, huffing as she stood from her seat. "I know that you've got a lot on your plate now, but...but you're my friend. You've always been my friend and we've been through worse before. I thought you'd help me," she hated the fact that her voice cracked as she uttered the final sentence.

"I don't have much help to give at the moment, (Y/N)," Tommy shook his head, stubbing the cigarette he'd essentially forgotten out in the ashtray before he ran a hand over his face.

"I see that now," she sighed. There wasn't any resentment laced into her words. Instead she was just upset. Upset because she thought she would have gained something useful in coming to him. Boy was she so wrong in thinking that. She hadn’t gained anything from this conversation. All that came out of it was frustration. “I have to go, Tommy. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah,” his response came out as a breath, and his eyes found hers as he nodded.

Their eye contact was brief, and (Y/N) was the one to break it, leaving the Shelby home with the hopes that all of the hell that was happening in their lives would blow over so that she could have her friend back to the way she knew him before.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[heavencanbeaprisontoo]

Strip Me to My Bones

Slowburn!Tommy x autistic!fem!reader

Chapter One: The Mentalist of Minster

Prologue

Summary: You came to Birmingham for liberation, for freedom. To live. It was never your intention to attract the interest of a man with a red right hand. Yet you have, and for two years after meeting his cold gaze you were allowed to enjoy that freedom. But that cage may soon be closing on you again.

Warnings: Blackmail, period-typical sexism, contextual use of g-slur, Canon-typical violence, author is autistic, spoilers for series one possibly, slow burn. WC: 4.3k words

Like a Bengal tiger in the London Zoo. She doesn’t belong there, walking behind iron bars as the pads of her paws crease loose straw peppered on top of cold concrete. Onlookers gawk at a creature who has no way of hiding from their judgment. The handlers feed her, yes, but she is never fully satisfied.

For as long as you can remember, you have felt like a beast in a small cage. There are faded treads along the floorboards of your childhood bedroom. All caused by the pacing of the beast your family put into itchy dresses and floppy bows. You would tear at the vestiges of girlhood with vigor, but they would only grow tighter. Verbal language came late to you, a fact that your mother would hide by calling you “shy.” When the beast did speak, they were still not pleased, for she said precisely what she thought. You had a keen eye all your life, and to study your fellow man was what your mother had told you that you must do. Watch and observe those around you, so that you may one day learn how a lady must act. Unfortunately, you cared little for replicating what you saw. It was far more interesting to observe, analyze, and report. Which got you into trouble. Truthfulness and rudeness were twin siblings that you could not tell apart. Silence was forced back upon you.

The little things you did as a child that most adults found endearing became rude and unsightly. Rocking oneself back and forth was sweet for a child and unsettling for a teenager. You must stop that. Tracing the wood grain of your desk at school seemed creative until it wasn’t. You must stop that. Flapping your hands as you listen to your father’s records charmed many before you grew to about twelve. You must stop that. A caged beast can only pace, and so you did. You paced, and paced, and paced, and paced—

As you grew into adolescence, the cage stayed the same. Brother was allowed to journey off for his business and leisure. Sister attended school far from home. You remained caged, for, like all odd creatures, it was for your own good. It did not matter how curious or clever you were. The world was too wild for you now, so said your parents. Father was seldom home, and when he was, you were never certain which version of him would greet you. There was the gentle Mr. Hargreaves, who would talk with you about patterns in history and compliment your keen insight. Then there was Father. The one who berated you for your awkwardness and kept to his study with a bottle of scotch that seemed to fill itself every other day. He was brilliant, your father. A man of meager means used his ability to identify patterns to predict the market and make a fortune through investing. He was intelligent, successful, charismatic, and deeply troubled. He fought forever with himself until one day he lost the fight.

You were in your early twenties when your father died. Unwed and still living in the family home, this was the greatest change you faced in your entire life. His death was hard to accept for many. Tears were still falling as his last will and testament were read before the family. All his fortune was to be split in four. A portion to your mother, brother, sister, and you. The amount was read. It was a lot. Enough money that your cage now has a door. One with a handle on the inside.

For the first time in years, you stood perfectly still as you had your thoughts on it all. If you were to leave this cage, it would be for good.

When you announced to your family that you intended to use your piece of inheritance to buy a flat, your mother was horrified. It took you six months to find a flat in a city that you found agreeable. For all six of those months, your mother tried and tried to talk you out of it. She reminded you of how overwhelming change could be for you, how you knew no one outside of the family, and how you had never known such loneliness. She cried over how you would be living like a widow in a world that would see you as a harlot for being young, unwed, and without a male figure. You answered with a smile, “I have never cared for the thoughts of onlookers, and I will not begin that habit today.”

That was the last time you had seen your mother. Three, no, five years ago. Now you were the resident of Flat B10, Minster Drive, at the heart of Small Heath. All under her maiden name, just to add that healthy bit of distance between you and the Hargreaves name.

You were quite content buying necessities (bread, milk, butter, and Belgian chocolates) and had no need to work the first year of your independence due to your inherited fortune. On days with fair weather, you would walk about Birmingham for hours. Journeying to museums, libraries, gardens, and occasionally the Cut. During one of your long walks along the canal, you encountered a weeping woman. Feeling compelled to comfort her, you went to her and inquired as to why she was upset. Over the course of an hour, you learned much about her life and gave her some thoughts on her various struggles. Despite your lack of worldly experience, something in the way you spoke moved her. She thanked you with wide eyes and both hands gripping yours tightly. You went on with your day.

The following week, she found you as you walked to your favorite reading spot. She had a friend with her who also needed your advice. So, you gave it. The two women put money into your hands. Oddly, they wouldn’t take it back when you tried to return it. This happened again three days later. To avoid being interrupted on your walks, you gave them your address and times of the day when you would not be occupied. Sure enough, the two women came to your home for your advice. Only this time, they were referring to you as though your observations were metaphysical or supernatural in nature. They referred a young man to you after this, an ex-soldier with a fractured mind. He left your home convinced that you had seen the innards of his soul. You merely asked him questions and made valid inferences. This mattered not to him or your rapidly growing list of interested customers. Thus began your strange occupation as a “mentalist.” Such a strange thing, you thought, to be sought out and paid to do that which polite society shunned you for. Observe, analyze, and report. Summon details from your mental filing cabinet to illuminate that which is not obvious to those around you.

It took some adjusting, but within a year, the random visitors became routine. Your earnings were unneeded, but not without their use. And your clients seemed so in need of an unjudging ear. It felt as if you were engaging in some sort of public service. So, you carried on. They started to call you The Mentalist on Minster.

On a rainy morning in late 1919, with your popularity on the rise, a man came to your door.

He stood tall in a long gray coat. Sharp gray suit underneath with a pinstripe shirt and a thick, white collar. The cap on his head combined with the collar told you straight away that he was one of those men the old lady next door complained about. Search the files behind your eyes, Peaky Blinder. It occurred to you quickly that there may be a problem. You thought it best to be direct. “Can I help you?”

His eyes move left, then right, taking in the surroundings. You knew that meant he didn’t want to be seen here. Interesting. He stared back at you with the bluest eyes you had ever seen, and he answered your question as lightly as possible. “You see the future, I hear.”

His face was somewhat tanned on the cheeks. Where would a gangster get a tan in Small Heath? The Cut. They get supplies from there, you once heard. Supplies for what mattered little to you.

“I see people, for a price. Not the future. Nobody can do that. It’s rather early, so I hope you’ve got money in that big coat.” You step aside to let him in. Slowly, he entered your home. The stranger had full lips and high cheekbones, almost womanly in his beauty. Your mind raced to identify who he was and why he was there. The women in town talked about a family of pretty gypsies; they are the ones running the gang. The name, the name... Search the files...

“I normally have tea prepared, but you don’t drink tea anyway, so I won’t bother with the kettle this time.” You took a seat on your favorite sofa and tried to look relaxed. You heard that the criminal sort would take advantage of those who seemed rattled and disorganized. Maybe you should have changed out of your robe. That was hardly on your mind; you were still trying to find the bloody name.

The stranger threaded his fingers together on his lap. “They say you can see inside of people; tell them things about them that even they don’t know.” His voice was low, but not deep. Smooth. Cold. There was an accusation in the way he spoke to you. A challenge. It was odd that he would come to you for services he himself didn’t seem to believe in.

You played glib, “My, that’s a lovely review of my services! I should put that on a sign outside my doorway.” His face doesn’t give away humor or irritation. The name comes to you. “Though I would rather know why you came to see me, Mr. Shelby, You are Mr. Shelby, yes?”

“That I am,” he seemed amused, “and I am not entirely sure why I came to see you either.”

He told you most of what you needed to know without saying a word. People in great stress and desperation tend to do that. What you heard from his eyes irritated you. This Mr. Shelby was trying to use you as a coin flip. Tip the scales in a direction so it will be easier for him to make a decision. As politely as you could, you told him to make his choice and move on. He seemed satisfied. You got your payment. He left.

Days turned to weeks and weeks to months. You found out his first name was Thomas, and that he went on to overthrow the track king of Birmingham, Billy Kimber. The Shelby family’s infamy grew rapidly in the following months. Not that it mattered to you, as you have a steady flow of clients now. You were never sure if it had to do with Mr. Shelby’s visit. Years passed, and a week after 1921 was hailed in, there was a knocking at your door.

You open it while holding your cup of tea in your right hand. When you saw his face, you sighed. You had a feeling your cup would go cold.

He stares at you as he had two years ago. Focused. Incredulous. Still waters. His face isn’t kissed by the sun anymore. Colder. He looks colder.

“You came back,” you say, taking a sip of tea, “and in a better suit, Mr. Thomas Shelby.”

Meeting your statement of the obvious with one of his own, he says, “And you’re dressed this time.” He gestured to your white blouse and mulberry skirt. “Might I come in?”

Just as you did the first time, you step aside and let the devil into your home. His head swivels around as he lurks through your home. Past the walls of shadowboxes, the bookshelves of ancient histories, and your various taxidermized creatures.

You take him right back to your sitting room. He starts to lower himself as you remember something and fish out a small stack of cards from your skirt pocket. “Ah, Mr. Shelby. Here.” Carefully, you hand him one plain business card with your new moniker, ‘The Mentalist on Minster,’ and your phone number. Mr. Shelby takes it and turns it over in his hand with a hum. “Moving forward, you’ll need to call ahead. I’m quite busy these days, and I simply can’t take any walk-ins. You’re fine for today, however.”

He pockets it, chuckling to himself. Upon sitting down on the client’s sofa, his mood seems to darken. “It’s strange, isn’t it? The things that change and the things that stay the same?"

You don’t sit, not right away. His deep blue eyes find you standing in the doorway. “Is that a comment on my decorating or an opening for this second unscheduled visit?" Thomas puts his eyes back on your vine-covered window. They're thicker now, the vines. Some might call it growth. Others might call it a sign of decay. You wonder in which category you could place this man in your home. 

Mr. Shelby takes out a cigarette, lighting it. He doesn't ask permission. Mr. Shelby puts his cigarette on his lips, but he only holds it there. You can see his eyes flick at you briefly. All his motions are smooth and slow, even the small ones. “How did all this start? This business of yours.”

This conversation is irritating you, and it's only just begun. What sort of person arrives unannounced at someone's home just to waste their time? You cross your arms and say, “People tell me things; I listen, and then they give me money.” 

He takes a drag. Exhales. “They pay you to tell you things.”

Leaning against the doorway separating your sitting room from the dining room, you sigh, “I’m a very good listener, Mr. Shelby. So good, in fact, that people tell me things without even speaking.”

“Quite the ear you must have.” He's back to looking out the vine-covered window. 

You slip into the room and sit across from him with barely a thought to the cup in your hand. Tea might've dripped on your skirt, but it was worth it to finally see him move faster than a molasses drip to meet your eyes. “There are other ways to listen, of course. The way people move, speak, and shift in their seats It says more than anyone is willing to say.”

His lips purse as he nods thoughtfully. It didn’t seem terribly genuine, though. He clicks his tongue and asks, “Would you need to be in front of someone to ‘listen,’ to them?”

“Not always, but it can be difficult unless I can see the way they move. And to hear too much about someone can make it difficult because then my reading is tainted by the opinions of whoever informed me of the person. Bias is a powerful thing, you know.” You wait for him to respond. He just sits there, looking out your window. Unimpressed. “I am becoming irritated, Mr. Shelby. If you cannot explain your purpose in coming to my door, I will ask you to walk back out of it.”

Mr. Shelby doesn’t move; he doesn’t even blink. You set down your cup on the table that separates you and say, “It’s a woman. Again. A woman and your family, most likely. It certainly can’t be the law because you’ve come to me at a sensible hour. It can’t be money because, my God, you drove here. The only thing a man like you cannot control is love and family. When you lose your grasp on either one, you’re helpless. It’s too soft for you. It’s all the things you try to lock up so you can think clearly with bloodied fingers. Stop me if this starts to feel like a biography, Mr. Shelby.”

His eye stays on you, and his lips are parted around that blasted cigarette like a lover. Eyebrows raised just barely. The lion has been interrupted as he takes his drink at the watering hole. A beast recognizes one of its own kind, even in this place of concrete and smoke. You answer his question before he asks it: “I told you, people tell me things without even speaking.”

Finally, he says, “There’s a woman on my mind, and there she stays. No matter what I do,” he says, taking a long drag of his cigarette. Slow and deep.

“A bit pathetic to have the same problem twice you paused.“ Don’t repeat that; most of my repeat clients have repeat problems. Which shouldn’t bother me, as I do love to study patterns, but it is indeed pathetic. The woman isn’t dead, is she?”

A twitch at the corner of his lips hints at humor. You couldn't know that for Thomas Shelby, that was as close to a smile as many had gotten in several months. He exhales smoke from his nose; it curls around his head in a loose halo. “As far as I know, she is alive and well."

“Did she leave on her own, or did you shoo her away to try to be kind?”

A short, humorless chuckle escapes his lips. Either at being called ‘kind,’ or at your bluntness. It is hard to say. The halo dissipates in his loss of composure: “She was smart. She left.”

He seems to avoid meeting your gaze. It's not entirely unwelcome. Sometimes, when people look at you for too long, it feels like something is being asked of you that you cannot give. “It must be hard for you to be so arrogant and self-loathing all at once,” you state with sincerity.

He looked at you and gave you a nod of affirmation. "Whiskey helps."

"It clearly doesn't."

"It's a joke."

"It isn't funny,” you say, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees, “and it still isn’t everything. The first time you were here, you weren’t sure why you were here. This time is different. I knew it when I saw you. This was planned; you are here for a reason. Why don’t you just say it so that I don’t have to say it for you?”

The light that slips from between the vines lights his eyes. It’s a strange thing that a man so pretty would have a life like his. If you were truly a reader of minds and lives, maybe you could make better sense of him. Right now, you’re trying to play the game the way you think he might. Bluffing, just a little. Truthfully, you aren’t sure if there’s a real reason for his being here outside of interpersonal woes.

“Normally, I’m not fond of your type. Posh, educated, clean girl with soft hands that have never known labor... living among the working class by choice,” he leans back in his seat. The conversation has changed somehow. His posture has shifted slightly, head titled to the side as he stares down at your hunched-over body. You remain still, remain silent, and wait. He continues, “But I would like to hire you.”

“Hire me?” you scoff. “What would you need of someone like me? Surely you have people to gather information if that’s what you so desire.”

Mr. Shelby’s lips pull back in a self-satisfied smirk. “Finding papers and connecting them to people is a simpler task than one might think. Now, reading people—that’s an art. And I will be in need of an artist in the foreseeable future.”

A chortle leaves you before you say, “This has been fun, Mr. Shelby, but I think it’s time you left. I have no desire in being commissioned to be a consultant for an active criminal. Throw whatever numbers you like at me, but as you know, I’m posh. Money doesn’t concern me terribly.”

His next words are complimentary, but devastating “Yes, you’ve made a legitimate business for yourself, Miss Hargreaves. You must be proud.”

Heart into the stomach, plummeting. He had not been the first to correctly assume you were from the upper class. Anyone could guess you weren’t from Birmingham based only on your accent, but certainly not your name. “Hargreaves? Why did you call me Hargreaves?”

He only stares, silence fills the room and it’s not helping you at all. Your mind is racing. How could he know that name? How many people know who you are? All the money you have hidden away? 

You scoff and move to stand. Before you can order him to explain his intelligence, he says, “Trying to distance yourself from your conman father, are we?”

You could’ve struck him for that. But you don’t. Body tight, you spit “Did my words sting you so badly that you had to come back here to hurt me with lies?” No point in denying relation.

The slow blink he gives you is not at all encouraging for your case. He seems so bloody pleased with himself. You could swear he was smiling as he said, “I couldn’t help but want to learn more about you. And after some digging, I met someone who recognized you by description alone. They had so much to say about you, and so much more to say about Mr. Bertram Hargreaves.”

Leaning forward, you grip your knees to keep from grabbing this man by the throat. Father was never an entirely kind man, but he was brilliant. He made his fortune honestly. Brutally.

Light from the midday sun beams through the vines of your window, painting you both in slithering shadows. Chest rising and falling deeply, you say “That person spoke lies wrapped in truths to keep your attention, Mr. Shelby. I am indeed Mr. Bertram Hargreaves’ daughter, but he is no con-artist. I merely concealed my name for privacy. My father’s hands were clean in death.”

The sofa he sits upon groans softly as Thomas moves forward, slipping out of his casual posture and imitating your own “My source provided evidence. Would you like to see a piece of it?”

A piece of it? “Show me,” you bark.

Sighing, he shifts to the side and produces a thin folder from his inner coat pocket. The emblem on the side has your blood running cold immediately. He places it on the table between you and opens it. There, right in front of you, is a folder baring the Hargreaves family emblem with three pages of… payment records. With your father’s signature at the bottom. You’re able to read that an organization called Western Investment Liaisons was being paid hundreds—no, thousands of pounds by a variety of individuals and organizations. Before you could examine it closer, Thomas closed the folded and pulled it back. 

Wildly, you reach for it, “Let me see that! If you mean to accuse my father, I—"

“Miss Hargreaves,” his hand takes your wrist to stop you. Fingers slide just beneath the sleeve of your blouse. The touch of his fingertips is rough on your bare flesh. Mr. Shelby’s skin feels cool. Cool, not warm. You force your gaze down to where your hands meet. The sound if him moving closer makes you hold your breath. The space you crafted between yourself, and your clients has never felt so thin. You can feel the smoke of his exhale ghosting your hairline as his right hand reaches down. The lit end of his cigarette catches your eye. “I understand this is distressing. If this were ever to get out, I imagine your family would suffer under the harsh scrutiny of the upper class. They already looked down upon you and your family, the Hargreaves might as well be new money in their eyes. They’re all waiting for an excuse to discount all that your father did to put your family where they are now.”

“You are a starved, godless creature,” comes from between gritted teeth.

He carries on, as if he hadn’t heard you, “I know money doesn’t drive you. So, I think proper payment is this: in exchange of your cooperation, Things like this can just… go away.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you croak, “And what of the person who told you these things?”

The angry red tip of his cigarette hangs over your cup. He flecks the ashes of his cigarette into the tea. Gray ashes land on top of the murky water, collecting into small piles of soot before like a sinking to the bottom. You close your eyes as he says into your ear, “With time and money, people can go away too.”

Your head shoots up and you blurt out “Mr. Shelby! That’s— that isn’t what I meant, I just…”

With one last puff of his cigarette, Mr. Shelby drops it into your cup, “Do we have an agreement? Your services, on call, and in exchange the family reputation remains intact?”

All you can do is nod, dumbly. He rises from his seat and regards you with one last smirk: “And please, call me Tommy. We know so much about each other now; it’s only right to forgo the formalities, eh?”

Driven only by societal convention, you walk him to the door and usher him out. My mind was racing with all that had just transpired. Tommy holds up your business card and says, “Expect a phone call by next weekend. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

You close your door and push your back against it, fighting to control your breathing. Shaking hands start to flap as the urge to pace rises. Such a strange thing happened. So strange. You cannot force away the feeling that you’ve been caged yet again.

----

Taglist:

@eclectic-trash @weaponizedvirtue @girlwith-thepearlearring @perseny

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again- Tommy Shelby x Reader

Part 3

Summary: After being childhood friends, you and Thomas made a promise one day to get married, but when he returned from France, he came back a completely different man.

Warnings: Angst, mutual pining, betrayal, emotional manipulation, emotional whiplash.

It was 1919. Over a year since she left Thomas and the betting shop behind. [Name] was stuck in solitude for days, and each day her mother comforted her, easing her daughters cries until she slept. The first person to reach out to her since she had left, was Ada.

"Please talk to me [Name]," She had asked her friend, sitting across from her at the small dining table.

"There is nothing to say, Ada...I can't go back, not now," She picked at her nails anxiously, the deep burgundy lacquer slowly chipping away.

"Believe it or not, it hasn't gone completely to shit, but Aunt Pol is having a hard time finding reliable people to do your job-"

"That's not my job anymore," [Name] reminded her. "Listen I'm sorry...I really am,"

"Where will you go now?" Ada asked. The girl opposite to her thought for a moment, she could be a barmaid but the chances of running into the Peaky boys were high. Jobs for women were scarce now that the men are back. So she just opted to respond with a shrug.

"No idea, Ada..."

Over a year later and she managed to get a job at the local library. It was quiet, of course, but at the very least she was able to put some of her knowledge to good use. It paid well enough for her to live comfortably and it kept her hidden away from running into the Shelby Family. She was just glad she didn't have to resort to becoming a prostitute. Her mother would have a heart attack is that was the case. With the exception of Ada and Polly, who would often drop in to have tea with her and her mother or bring treats and gifts. Sometimes [Name] felt they only offered these gifts as peace offerings, of behalf of what Thomas had done. It was as if they still couldn't forgive him, and they would understand if she couldn't either.

Because in the last year, she had changed.

Physically and mentally. She had grown into a beautiful young woman, the stress of illegal betting and horseracing, the stress of Thomas Shelby had left her life, which in turn rewarded her to grow even more. In only a year, she begun to finally get noticed by the other young bachelors of Birmingham. Little did she know, she had them turning their heads all this time, she was busy with her eyes on someone else.

It was one afternoon when she met her current suitor. His name was Daniel and he was the sweetest man she had ever met. Considering she had only surrounded herself with the three Shelby men and the Peaky boys, that was a big change. While she was working at the front desk of the Library, he requested some aid in retrieving a couple of maps of the world. She didn't pay any mind to Daniel at first until the third and fourth week he had come in, still asking for her help.

"I remember you, I would assume you knew where the maps were by now," She quietly cut him off. This caught him off guard, making him flustered as he tried to search for his words. [Name] only smiled as she watched the dark auburn haired man blush more and more.

"I-I am sorry miss...I just," He cleared his throat. She arched her brow at him for a moment. He was at a loss for words as he admired her beauty. That day he had asked if she'd like to accompany him to some dinner in London, to get to know each other more.

It had been a very peaceful and cherishing month with Daniel, she found that he was a traveling business man and was looking to expand his company in America. But, like all good things it came to an end when Thomas Shelby came into the picture once again. While in London with Daniel, he took her to the shops to buy a new dress to meet his family one night. She had broken away from him as he spoke to the salesman about the dress he was about to purchase. Stepping outside to look at the lightly clouded sky, examining the different shops on the street.

"[Name]?" The voice sent shivers down her spine. She quickly turns at the mention of her name towards the deep voice.

"Thomas?" She asked, surprised to see him.

Seeing the man that broke her heart and betrayed her trust right in front of her eyes was like a whirlwind of emotions. She didn't know if she should stay, run, or beat him until he was blue and on his knees begging for her forgiveness.

But, she was better than that. She was with a man who actually loved her.

"It's nice to see you again," Thomas told her, stepping closer. She subtly takes a step back, clearing her throat as her eyes dart to the shop entrance, praying to God that Daniel will emerge soon so the two can leave the awkward interaction and never turn back.

"Yeah, sure, Thomas..." She nods slightly. Thomas Shelby didn't forget what happened between them over a year ago, but he was perplexed that she would still treat him like a stranger, even after all these years of being as close as they once were. Within that year of missing her by his side, he refrained from showing up at her home to see her, refraining from asking Ada and Polly to tell him what they had discussed when they visited her. Part of him hoped that her and her mother still took those evening walks in Uncle Charlies' yard after dinner. Thomas often found himself at Charlies' yard nearly every night, hoping he would run into her.

But that's exactly what she had avoided. [Name] did everything in her power to avoid every little place and thing Tommy knew about her. IT seemed to work, until this very moment.

"What brings you here?" She asked curiously. Hoping she didn't have to put her favorite dress shop in London on a list of places to avoid Thomas Shelby.

"Just...doing some business in London as it seems...until I saw you leaving the dress shop...thought I would come and say hello," He shrugged. [Name] looked down at her gloved hands, pondering her next words.

"I see...well, goodbye Thomas," She nods once, still avoided his eyes, afraid that once she sees his eyes again, it will start all over again. The warmth he gave her, the butterflies in her stomach, the cure to all of her hardships. She makes hasty steps past him, but his hand reaches out to grab her arm...it was gentle but firm as to not hurt her. He always knew how to be gentle with her.

"[Name], please..." He said quietly. She felt the tears brim her eyes as she slowly turned to him again. Slowly lifting her gaze to his eyes. Once he saw her tears, it was like everything around them had stopped. It was just them two together and no one else.

"What Thomas? What could you possibly want from me now?...After all this time, when I am finally happy you come into my life again, why?" She asked, sniffling as the small tears rolled down her high cheekbones and onto her chin. Her skin blushed, and her eyes were red with salty tears. He was at a loss for words at first.

He gently spoke her name again, reaching down to pick up her hand in his, testing the waters to see just how much she will accept from him. Her hand twitched and nearly jerked away as he slipped her glove off. Feeling the warmth of his skin made her comply. His hands were rough now, from the years of digging tunnels and fighting. She had no doubt that his hands and mind were both distressed.

"I...I'm sorry for how things ended between us...frankly I can't stop thinking about you," He told her regretfully. Her eyes were shining in the dim light of the London sun, the tears glistening as they roll. Each one looking like diamonds.

"You're sorry...After a year you're finally sorry," She almost laughed. Thomas only sighed.

"Yes of course! and...and I regret everything I said, I can't live my life without you, [name],"

"You should have thought about that before you asked me to marry you!" Her voice raised just a bit, before realizing that she was still in public, as to not bring attention to herself. For once, Tommy didn't know what to say next. His eyes darted across her face. Her cheeks were red, her brows were furrowed in frustration, and her lips... Oh those lips he had always wanted to kiss deeper each night upon his return, they were downcast in a frown. He released a sigh when he realized her eyes had not left his this entire time. He knew she still loved him deep down. She just couldn't bear it. His thumb ran over the top of her hand gently.

"I hurt you, I know that now and...There is nothing else I can say other than I am immensely sorry, give me another chance [name], I can prove it to you that I am a new man, as friends or more I need you in my life,"

His words made her lips tremble as she closed her eyes to think and steady her breath. She opened her eyes first before she opened her mouth to speak.

"[Name]?" A voice called, and suddenly the bubble bursts. It was like the busy street surrounding them suddenly became clear again. It wasn't just the two of them in the world anymore. She turned her head from Thomas to Daniel. The man she adored more than anything, as he searched for her. Thomas also managed to sneak a glance at the stranger, and his cold heart sunk a little deeper into the pit, leaving a sour taste in his mouth and a clenched jaw. She looked back at Thomas.

"Think about it," He whispered before walking off.

[Name] stood in her place in stillness as she tried to process what just happened to her. Daniel approached her, smiling widely as he informed her that he purchased the dress and reassuring her that it will look lovely on her for the dinner party with his family. She gave him a small smile before it quickly faded when he looked away from her.

The days leading up to the dinner party, she had thought of Thomas. It was like he himself had infected her mind as she had no more room to think clearly of anything else besides him and the words he spoke to her. But could she really trust him again?

Should she trust him again?

Every day and every night she had spent with Daniel, she tried her best to reciprocate the love he had for her, but somehow something was wrong. She didn't love him the way she loved Thomas. The night of the dinner party, she waited for Daniel to pick her up. Wearing the dress he had bought her, the jewelry she borrowed from her mother, and the hair and makeup she spent hours perfecting just to impress his family.

"What's wring, dear? Your hands are shaking," Her mother pointed out as she helped her daughter prepare.

"I...I don't think I can do this," She swallowed thickly. But before her mother could even ask, there was a ring at the door. [Name's] stomach was in knots and her blood ran cold. Her mothers words of encouragement were drowned out by her own raging heartbeat. When she opened the door, her mouth was agape. Expecting to see Daniel, instead Thomas stood at the front door.

Out of breath and panting. No words were exchanged as they stared at each other. She nearly leaps into his arms as she engulfs him in a tight embrace. It felt right, being in his arms again. Like they were kids again.

The following days, she kept her distance from Daniel, much to her mothers dismay. She had written him a letter.

To my Darling Daniel, I am sorry things had to happen this way. You had shown me the love no man has ever shown me before. But I am afraid I do not deserve it. Our time together was more than I could ask for, but I simply cannot keep loving you the way you want me to. I will forever cherish our memories together in my heart, as you were the only man to treat me a way a woman should be treated. I hope you find love again, and the next woman you find love in will be a very lucky to have you. I will always have you in my heart. [Name].

With the letter, she returned the dress he had bought her, she thought it would be ill-mannered to keep it. She hadn't heard from him after that. Not even a letter back, but she knew why. She would never hold that against him.

The following week, [Name] had began showing her face around the betting shop again. Here and there popping in to talk to Ada and Polly, slipping away into Tommy's office to speak with him when he wasn't busy. It was a but of a shock to the Shelby women when they saw her. They thought she was crazy for showing up again, but she had reassured them that everything was fine.

For months on end, [Name] and Thomas would spend their time together. Hand in hand as they drunkenly walked along the streets after visiting a pub on the weekends. Dancing to records in her home, holding each other close as they slow danced in the fire-place lit room. One night they went to the old hill, the same hill they used to go to when they were kids. Laying beside each other, drinking a bottle of cheap wine as they star-gazed. It was the only place where the sky wasn't absolutely covered by the smoke and smog of the city.

"I forgot how beautiful the sky was at night," She spoke softly as she sat up, eyes scanning the sky.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" He asked, leaning his shoulder against hers. She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly with a nod, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Thomas?" She asked. He hums.

"I missed you,"

"I missed you too, [Name]," He spoke truthfully. That night, they shared a kiss.

A week later, she approached him in his office.

"Pol said you were going to the derby..."

"We are...It's an important matter of business, [Name],"

The girl sighs. "I know that...I also told you I would go with you if you needed me to,"

"No..."

"Uh- no?" She asked, perplexed.

"Absolutely not, Kimber is a dangerous man, you're not coming with us," He argued. She aggressively rolls her eyes and throws her hands up in the air before putting them on her hips.

"I was hoping to come talk to you without being interrupted-" She mumbled.

"And I was hoping you would know better than to ask to join on this mission-"

"Then who are you taking?" She interrupted him, crossing her arms. Thomas sighs, shaking his head in disbelief at her childish attitude.

"The barmaid,"

"The barmaid? Why the fuck would you take the barmaid?" She asked. He widened his eyes at her for a moment. She bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for his response.

"It's all a part of the plan, please trust me," He stood as he slowly walked to her, placing his hands on her shoulders to calm her mind. She pursed her lips, a solemn look on her face.

"I don't care who goes with you to the derby, I just can't sit here and hope you'll come out alive one of these days...I-" She pauses. "I adore you too much, Thomas,"

He pulls her into a tight hug, his hand caressing her hair as he kissed her forehead. "Everything will be okay," He reminded her. Lifting her chin to slowly look at him. Her eyes, as alluring as they were. His lips attack hers in a rough kiss. Pushing [Name] against the wall as her fingers pull at the fabric of his white shirt, his body pressing against hers. She could practically feel his heart beating against her chest. His hands slipping down her body, her waist to her hips to the roundness of her ass. His strong hands gripping every curve of her as he started pulling at her dress with his hands. Pulling away to catch their breath, but before she would dive in for another kiss Finn had burst through the door, inquiring that their Aunt Polly needed to speak to Thomas at once.

Begrudgingly letting him handle his business, she was left alone in his office, blushing and fanning herself with her hands as the heat began to rise, biting her lip in bafflement.

She wanted to see him again and ask about the kisses they had started. What they meant, what would have happened if they weren't interrupted. But Thomas too involved with conspiring against Billy Kimber. Fucking Billy Kimber. Hearing his name made her clench her jaw. He had been the talk of every family meeting since he found his way into Birmingham just weeks ago. But Thomas was just too busy. Too busy to talk to her. Eventually, too busy to even see her as frequently.

She recognized the pattern. It was what happened to her before he left for France. If only she could just read his mind, find out exactly what was going on in that head of his. From seeing him and his eyes, his smile every day, to seeing him at least once a week. This time he would still act the same with her. Kind, gentle, caring, but somehow she knew it was different. He wouldn't touch her, or kiss her like he used to. [Name] thought that maybe, just maybe, if she told him how she felt everything will go back to normal. Perfect even.

She just had to wait for the right moment.

When Thomas had come to her home for an evening tea with her and her mother, she decided that she would tell him then. The tea was nice, the conversations went well. [Name] was eager to finish, to get it all over with, waiting for their moment alone. Later that night, after her mother excused herself to bed, the two sat on the couch, sharing a whiskey as they talked. She sat her glass down when he called her name to get her attention.

"I need to tell you something,"

Her ears and cheeks grew warm as she looked at him, eyes brighter than ever.

"I actually need to tell you something too...but please go first," She smiled. Thomas turned his body slightly towards her, seemingly less enthusiastic as her. Thomas clears his throat before he spoke.

"I want to start off by apologizing for not seeing you as much these past few months, but I promise everything is going to work out for the better in the end, not just for my family, but for yours as well..." He paused, holding one of her hands in his.

"Thomas," She glances at their interlocked hands before looking up at him again. His blue eyes didn't look as bright in the dim lighting of the room.

"You have been with my family since the beginning, and you helped us out when we needed you the most, when everything takes off, I want you by my side through it all, promise me that you will do that for me [Name]," He requested. The young woman stares into his eyes once more and nods silently.

"I can't imagine leaving your side...ever," She stated quietly. Thomas looked down again, smiling slightly. As far as she knew he rarely smiled now...the only time she saw him smile was when he was with her.

"There was another thing I wanted to talk about," He started. She nods, urging him to continue. "There's a woman,"

His voice dropped low, the way he said 'woman' rumbled as her cheeks flushed. At the drop of a pin, her lively face slowly dropped at his words.

"A woman?"

She sank into the sofa as he spoke, but his words fell upon deaf ears. Her mind went numb, buzzing as she blankly stared off into the shadows of the room. He loved her, convinced her to leave Daniel, kissed her, treated her like she was the only woman for him...almost married her. All those years together, meant nothing to him. Once again. She should have known better than to get attached to a man like him.

A man only out for his own good.

"[Name]...You're crying," He pointed out, stopping mid-explanation to wipe the tear. She wanted to tell him. Tell him she loved him, that she wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of their lives. She looks at him and smiles.

[Name] shook her head and sniffled, chuckling and looking away to wipe the tear.

"I'm just...really happy for you Thomas...She seems like a nice woman," She didn't hear a word he said about her. The mystery woman that had stolen his heart.

'If only you knew what I felt'

After Thomas had left that night, she went to her room, sobbing in her bed. The heaviness in her chest weighted her down as she was held into place by rocks. The agony she felt, not only for herself but for hurting the only man that loved her. All for nothing. It was too late to go back now.

---

[Tag List]

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @milljane @cyphah @diosa-ahre-blog @badlandsbrunette @adaydreamaway08 @namelessghoul0 @deltamoon666 @cherryslyce @calmingmelody96

[angelofthenight]

You: How’re you doing?

Alfie, really drunk: You are so good looking!

Alfie, throwing his arm around you: I’m gonna make love to you right here right now! *Growls*

Tommy, sitting in the chair next to them: … really wish you wouldn’t.

[madame-wilsonn]

At Last

MASTERLIST

Summary: “At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song”

A/N: this is in honor of @zablife’s wonderful celebration! Congratulations again, darling! I hope you enjoy this! Also huge thank you to my silly little friend @sunrisepoets for helping me out with this!!! This fic is set in the modern!au (i wrote two other stories in this au which you can find here & here)

I apologize for any mistakes or typos, I’m literally writing this on my phone! I really hope you enjoy this nonetheless 💗

Warnings: Tommy being hopelessly in love with his wife; a lot of books; death of an ice cream

Word count: ≈ 1,800 words

The sun was almost setting when Tommy parked his Bentley in the driveway. It had been an awfully long week, having to fix issues after issues. But he was home.

At last.

Tommy entered the mansion’s hall, slightly disappointed to see Frances grab his suitcase instead of you. She greeted him politely and, sensing the question bubbling in her boss’ chest, added “Mrs. Shelby is in the garden, taking care of the roses.”

After dismissing the maid, Tommy ran outside to find you. He had not seen you all week, leaving early for London on Tuesday. To say he was excited to be back was an understatement. Your absence turned your apartment dull and Tommy’s few hours there cold and lonely. Even trying to busy himself with studying documents didn’t work. To the point where he found himself calling you late at night, talking to you until you fell asleep. But the horrendous week was finally over.

A smile made its way on your husband’s face as soon as you appeared in front of him. You knelt on a small cushion, watering beds of colorful flowers. You hadn’t noticed him yet, the music playing in your ears loud enough even he could hear it. Tommy leaned in and grabbed your shoulders with a mischievous grin.

You jumped, a terrified yelp leaving your lips. Your husband, very proud of his little joke, chuckled at your wide opened eyes, your hand on your chest. He pulled you in, embracing you.

“I hate you, Tommy,” you mumbled against him. “I should get a divorce just for that.”

Nonetheless, you wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his scent.

“I’m so sorry, love but you know I had to,” he was still laughing at your reaction.

“You’re just very lucky I missed you enough to not kick your butt.”

“I missed you, too,” he caressed your hair, kissing your temple. “And I got you something. Close your eyes.”

Tommy reached for the box in his pocket, carefully taking out the piece of jewelry. You couldn’t help the excitement growing in your belly, turning you into a fidgety little mess. You knew your husband was taking his sweet time just to torture you, asking you if your eyes were really closed at least twice. Finally, you felt his fingers grazing your neck, pushing your hair away.

A familiar cold sensation tickled your skin and you were allowed to glance at a gorgeous golden locket. You gently took it in your hand, admiring the delicate engraving.

“Do you like it?” Tommy murmured in your ear. “I passed by that antique store you love and I found this. I thought it would look good on you.”

You turned around, beaming at your darling husband. It was an adorable habit of his: to buy you a gift any time he left for too long. He was aware it didn’t make up for his absence but he enjoyed showing you that, although he was far away, you didn’t leave his thoughts once.

“I love it, thank you,” you kissed his cheek, leaving a stain where your coloured lips had touched him.

“I was thinking, do you have plans tomorrow?” Tommy asked as you tried to erase the red on his skin.

“No, not really. I thought you would want to rest.”

“What about we go to the bookstore and-”

“Yes!” you exclaimed “Yes, let’s go to the bookstore!”

You began rambling about some pretty edition you saw and the newest book of your favorite author coming out. Tommy chuckled at your reaction, bringing you close.

Oh, how he missed you.

Skipping into the bookstore, you inhaled the familiar smell of paper. Tommy almost had to run after you, fearing he might lose you in the large building. Taking you to any kind of place with books was the same thing as taking any of John’s kids in a toy store. There was no other way to describe it. You had a tendency to get a rush of energy, jumping from one section to the other, speaking impossibly fast. All a very lovely scene but slightly hard to follow.

“Oh! There it is!” you almost screamed, grabbing a book with a train on it. You happily showed it to Tommy. He remembered the previous story very clearly. You hadn’t been able to let go of the book and finished it in the middle of the night, staring blankly at the wall for half an hour afterwards. “My goodness, it sounds amazing! But wait…”

Tommy observed you as you turned the book around, opening the last page.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading the last sentence,” you answered very simply.

Your husband shook his head, confused. “But why would you…”

“Shhh!” you placed a finger on his lips, letting out a squeal as you closed the book again.

“What’s going on?” Tommy asked, trying to understand the expression on your face.

“The…Okay, do you remember those books with the Norwegian detective?”

He nodded as you went on, explaining how the detective from the previous series somehow appeared in this new one. He couldn’t grasp why this information was enough to make your hands shake but you seemed very excited to find out more. You handed the book to Tommy before running away to another section.

Another squeal alerted your husband as you pointed towards a gorgeous cover.

“Look! It’s the collection I told you about!” you showed him a new edition of Emma. Even he had to agree it was splendid.

Tommy was pretty sure you already had those books at home but it didn’t matter. Not when this “new collection” turned you into a cheerful, giggly mess.

He took the heavy pile and found a small bench near you. He watched you, the way you seemed so focused to find the one. Every time, you would come back and add a new book to the growing stack. Tommy had one job: check the book off the list you made —which he gladly did.

“Alright, what’s this one…The Bell jar,” he read over the titles, until pinpointing the right one. “Done.”

“Thank you,” you whispered in a sunny tone, warming Tommy’s heart. “...Can I get one more? The last one, I promise!” Your husband nodded even though you had chosen “the last one” about five books ago. You squealed, leaving a light kiss on his cheek and you disappeared again, making him chuckle.

You stayed in the bookstore for about an hour, running back and forth between each section. Every single time, you would swear you were done.

Until you discovered a new little treasure you couldn’t resist.

Tommy pretended he needed to think about it before giving in, just to make the chase a bit funnier. And also because you would kiss him as soon as he said yes—which was an opportunity he couldn’t miss.

“Okay, that’s it! I am done!” Tommy raised an eyebrow at you. “For real this time, I have everything.”

“Well you did take everything. We walked into a bookstore and we’re going to leave empty Ikea shelves!”

You pursed your lips, trying to resist the grin stretching your lips.

“That’s very funny, Mr. Shelby. You should probably consider a career in a circus with that much humor!”

Tommy laughed sarcastically, grabbing the stack of books in his arms. You realized just how much you had actually taken with you when your husband’s face disappeared behind The Great Gatsby and Musso’s new novel.

“You know what? Maybe I did go too far…I should just take some of those and I’ll buy the rest later,” you mumbled, internally cursing your extravagance.

Tommy put the books on a table nearby and took your hand.

“You could have bought the entire bookstore— literally and I would still carry all those books for you, yeah?” he kissed your forehead tenderly. “Now come on, I’m buying us some ice cream. All this book hunting starved me ”

Your eyes gleamed with that precious, childish spark and Tommy knew he was as earnest as ever. He would buy you the entire universe if it meant making you smile as a reward. Any struggle seemed ludicrous next to your radiant, beaming face.

With a delicious cone of cookie dough and brownie ice cream in hand, you strolled through the busy streets. Tommy walked beside you, one arm around your shoulder while the other held his ice cream cone. He was wearing a simple black tee-shirt with some jeans and his signature raybans on his eyes.

It was almost funny how different he looked when he was not working. His cheeks were slightly flushed with the heat, his freckles more obvious because of the sun. Even though you found your husband handsome all the time, you had to admit having a slight preference for “laid back Tommy”.

Completely lost in your thoughts, you missed the small hole in the pavement and tripped. Tommy’s arm tightened on you, saving you in extremis from a terrible fall.

Your ice cream was not as lucky.

A desolated sigh escaped your lips as you realized your fresh, sweet treat was now melting on the concrete.

Before you could think about mourning for your poor ice-cream, Tommy stepped in front of you.

“Here, take mine.”

You considered his proposal for a second but turned it down. It wasn’t his fault you weren’t attentive enough.

But of course, your very stubborn husband insisted. He managed to negotiate one bite each with a very serious “come on, we’re married! For richer, for poorer, remember?”

Which you had countered rather easily: “I don’t think it applies to ice cream, Tom.”

“Of course it does! And you don’t want to hurt my feelings by not tasting this delicious ice cream, do you?”

So you kept walking, sharing the tiny pink spoon. He carefully listened to your extremely passionate speech about your detective’s character development along the books. It made him wonder how many hours you actually spent thinking about this, managing to quote psychology researches and articles.

It was almost marvelous. The contrast between your serious words and you, happily munching on the ice cream cone.

After each bite, you cut a piece and fed it to Tommy. The same way you would do with a small bird you found in the park.

Concluding on your rant, you handed the last of the cone but your husband refused.

“Oh no, it’s fine. Just take it.”

“Thanks,” you grumbled, your mouth half full.

“Was it good at least?”

You nodded frantically. “It was so good! Thank you for sharing your ice cream with me, darling,” you rested your hand against his shoulder, squeezing his waist.

“Anytime,” he hummed, his voice getting lost in your hair.

It was all worth it.

[wisteriaandwafers]

I’m making another one

(Part 1) - because there’s a tagging limit

It’s because of the fact that I’ve read some really good fluff recently and everyone else should as well. Also exam procrastination as always

Some parent ones in Tommy section, but most of the rest are mutual pining, best friends, cute misunderstandings working themselves out, Early relationship things, and shenanigans

Peaky blinders but it’s really just Tommy

Keep us safe by @zablife

The resolution was like taking a deep breath

Tachipen and two Shelby men

Swimming lessons by @vintunnavaa

This one in particular I read and reread a lot and I can’t exactly pinpoint why I love it so much

gentle love, who you love

Drabble by @acewritesfics, a daughters return

They happen to both be cute kid fics

Well, what about the Dog by @runnning-outof-time

I’m a big fan of when Tommy’s wife doesn’t give him a choice regarding domestic things. It’s very fun for me

The silver lining

well spoken by @notyour-valentine

This man and finding himself around intelligent women 🤝

Under his Eye by @queenshelby

This one creeps me out a bit because HT creeps me out but I so want to know what happens next

Lurking in the shadows by @pherelesytsia

This one is a very cute Halloween fic

It was an accident by @kiki0005

The aftermath of the accident is cute and funny

Afternoon Shelby Chaos by @teenwolf-theoriginals

This whole collection based on this family is very locute. They’re so loving and 🥰

A friend literally said to me years ago, every time I open your phone you’re reading Bucky fics, and it’s still true:

Well not so much anymore but I still read:

Blurb by @angrythingstarlight

Because bee is the cutest baby ever

Valentine by @softlyspector

Pining and hesitant action is my jam in fics

Though I have never read it by @tuiccim

It’s ongoing but I’m really enjoying it

All wrapped up by @jobean12-blog

It’s a Chrismatime fic and it’s adorable!

I like you a latte by @moonstruckbucky

It’s a coffee shop au what more do you need

Easy by @jadedvibes

It’s the cute beginnings of a relationship and they’re being all sweet and learning each other

Bribe the super by @real-jane

There’s a heat wave, there’s an entangled friend group, and they both sort of stalk each other with help from a store owner.

When morning comes by @pellucid-constellations

Besties at different points but they try and remain connected at heart and 😍

These one are Steve fics:

Mini matchmaker by @avengerofyourheart

Christmas cute kid fic

First date by @navybrat817

They go on a cute date and deal with a mini, kind of funny misunderstanding

My favourite what if part 2 by @imhereforbvcky

There’s drunk coffee, gardening, Sarah Rogers, and forever in love besties

Pick Her poison

Coffee shop meet cute

Then of course because I am a child of this millennium, some TASM! Peter as well, not all, but most:

Zoo blurb by @webslingingslasher

Honestly, I’m not sure which Peter this is but it’s cute

I swear I don’t know who that man is

Tarrent is indeed a character and the whole thing is a journey

Like me, like you by @privateanxieties

I don’t know why I enjoy body switch stories but I do And I am anxiously awaiting the finale

Shampoo and heartbreak. Apple stem

Pairing by @spider-stark

It’s a case of shenanigans stemming from pining and I’m a fan

Bloody love by @parkerpeter24

This one is kinda sad

Daughters will love like you do by @waitimcomingtoo

Babysitter!peter helps everyone

Some light voyeurism

This one by @forever-rogue

Spidey identity and anxiety fueled decisions. It all works out very nicely

Meet cute. By @helplesslyinlovewithcharacters

Meet cute and is very cute

You ain’t nothing by @withahappyrefrain

Actually just read all her Peter stuff. The mob!peter au 🥰 like this one

Forest scenario by @vendettaparker

Text message fic

Webbed troubles by @curseofaphrodite

They’re both so stupid and I love it !!!

Hey babe I love you by @oracleofapollon

It’s best friends to lovers

Stranger things, but it’s really just Steve + Eddie fics

Baby by @cosmal

It’s so cute

Crush by @call-me-eds

There’s a misunderstanding but it’s not what you think

Wayne’s world by @queenimmadolla

A sudden birth I cried so much

It’s a date by @luveline

And no, he does not stop staring even after the date

Waiting for forgiveness by @iveseenstrangerthings

There’s a party, there’s a misunderstanding, they’re besties

Secrets out by @steddielvr

Well that kid can’t keep his mouth shut

Best friends and cosmos by @taylorbrooke1230

I like those you’re just noticing!? Moments

Safe space by @chervbs

So 🥰

Tied with a bow by @angrymilfs

There’s Flowers and cuteness

This one by @plainemmanem

They’re coworkers this time and someone is smitten

Nothing compares by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Later life and smiles

Oops I love you by @earthgirl616

Just best friends they say

Then all the others that I can’t categorize but still love and cherish :

Horacio Carillo

This blurb by @tropes-and-tales

Alone for the holidays, love struck

Just like always by @drabbles-mc

Din djarin

Significant by @softlyspector

This one is a case of I don’t even go here. But I just about die for mutual pining and this one has it

Andy barber

What Andy wants by @theycallmebecca

I like this one. One person not realizing what everyone else sees clearly. 

Matt Murdock

You what? By @babyboiboyega

Coffee shop woes by @courtforshort15

F1 imagine

Forgive me, what? By @lovingperfectionsblog

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

100 Follower Celebration

Hi my angels!!!! Y’all I really can’t believe the is is a 100 person party this is so much fun!! I know this isn’t like a major milestone in comparison to some other blogs, but I just really wanted to celebrate! Hanging out with you guys and chatting is so much fun for me and I love connecting with you guys over something so pure. In celebration of our Kiki reaching 100, I’ve opened up a Request Bonanza!!! Pick from the list of characters and pick from the prompt list and send in a request!! I’ll try and do as many as I can! Love you guys so much, have fun!!! Due Date: December 3rd, 2023

Characters

Peaky Blinders

Alfie Solomons

Thomas Shelby

John Shelby

Triple Frontier

Frankie Morales

Santiago Garcia

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Prompt List!!!

Touched Starved Prompts

Drabble List/Dialogue Prompts

[mystcldydrms]

I just wanted to apologize for not writing in a while. I really really want to write something, and sometimes I get an idea, but I can't seem to write it down. It's in my head, but I just can't turn it into words.

I just wanted to let you know again, that my requests are open, especially for some warm cosy autumny fics. you can send any requests in though. you can send in requests for fics, blurbs, headcanons or moodboards. I'm open to anything.

If you'd like to read some of my previous works, here's my masterlist.

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Trick or Treat 🎃

Thanks for the ask! 💕 Since I'm feeling nice, here is a small peak at a Tommy Shelby x Reader I am working on (not connected to The Job):

“He loves you.” “And you don’t?” Tommy dropped his gaze and it was enough proof for you to press on. Walking slowly towards him, you whispered, “Tell me I am wrong. Tell me your heart doesn’t beat for me the same way mine beats for you. Tell me all those lingering touches and stolen kisses meant nothing to you. If you can tell me that, I’ll leave here now and never speak of my feelings for you again. But if you can’t…”

Send an ask with "Trick or Treat" to get a writing treat! 😉

[queenshelby]

Auctioned (P. 1)

Pairing: Dark!Thomas Shelby x Virgin!Reader/OC

Warning: Darkish Themes, Prostitution, Smut, Eventual Loss of Virginity, Dubious Consent, Corruption, Destructive Behavior, Massive Age Gap

Notes: Damn, I had this in my drafts for a while but could not publish it as I was a little afraid about how it would be perceived. Also this is the first time I used an OC, so be gentle with me.

The rain fell relentlessly, a steady rhythm that matched the pounding of Y/N's heart as she walked down the dimly lit streets of Small Heath.

It was a neighbourhood perpetually caught in the grip of shadows, where whispers of danger cascaded through the air like an ominous secret.

Clutching her coat tighter around her trembling form, Y/N navigated the labyrinthine alleyways towards her destination. The wind howled, carrying with it a sense of desperation that seemed to echo her own.

After mere minutes of walking down the street, the brothel she had worked at as a waitress for the past two years stood ominously before her, its ornate facade a stark contrast to the gritty reality of its surroundings.

It was a daunting place she had visited many times before. Both of her sisters worked there, and it was Y/N's eldest sister who had orchestrated tonight’s ordeal.

When Y/N was only sixteen years old, her eldest sister told her not to give away her innocence lightly as, according to her, a woman’s virginity was a commodity these days. Men were willing to pay much money for it, and six months after Y/N turned eighteen, she decided to partake in one of the brothel’s first-ever auctions.

“There are many men here tonight and you are the only virgin” Y/N's sister told her, causing Y/N to cringe but remain silent. “In three months’ time Em, we will be debt-free” her sister then reassured her as rumors of illicit dealings and forbidden desires swirled around the brothel’s walls, warning Y/N and the two other girls partaking in tonight’s events to tread with caution.

Y/N's determination propelled her forward though nonetheless, into the grand hall of the establishment and, albeit with trepidation lingering in every step, she pushed through her anxiety. The weight of her decision bore down on her shoulders now, the knowledge that she had offered her innocence for sale causing a knot of guilt to form in the pit of her stomach.

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors, the creaking sound reverberated through the room, capturing the attention of its mysterious clientele, including men that were twice and three times Y/N's age.

Seeing them, gave Y/N second thoughts. She disappeared again into the back of the room, telling her sister that she was unsure as to whether she could go through with this and, once again, her sister reminded her of what was to come if she did not.

“Trust me Em, it is better to fuck one guy for a few months than a ton of them for years. You will have money once your time is up. It will be worth it” her sister told Y/N, who reluctantly nodded.

The deal was to give up her virginity and three months of her life to the highest bidder and in the brothel’s owner’s opinion, such offering was going to attract a bid of at least one-thousand pounds.

One thousand pounds was more than Y/N could make in five years, thus she agreed, setting herself up for a good life of her own.

***

Glancing through one of the open doors again, Y/N saw that the auction room was illuminated by dim candlelight, casting elongated shadows across the velvety red curtains that framed the stage.

Many men were still arriving, taking their seats and talking with each other. Y/N could count at least fifteen thus far and were astonished by the fact that all these wealthy men were prepared to pay for her inexperience.

Then, a hushed silence fell over the crowd as another man walked in and it was your sister who peaked through the crack in the door with you now, trying to ascertain what was happened.

“Oh shit” she said as she looked at the man who just walked in. His sharp features were framed by a weave of dark hair, blue eyes piercing the dimly lit room with a predatory intensity. This was Thomas Shelby - a figure whispered about in hushed tones, notorious for his criminal empire, and feared even by those who claimed to know him.

“Who is he?” Y/N asked nonetheless, curious about this handsome but intimidating-looking stranger.

“His name is Thomas Shelby. You would have heard of him?” Y/N's sister said, causing Y/N's chin to drop as, just like everyone else, she had indeed heard of him. He was often referred to as the king of Birmingham, a man whose name had become entwined with notions of danger and darkness. He had blood on his hands and was a career

Criminal who was so powerful that even the police did not stand in his way.

“It is time, come on” the owner of the establishment then said and, with trembling legs, Y/N walked into the room, accompanied by her sister.

All heads turned as Y/N's presence filled the room, but she did not take notice of anyone but him, secretly hoping for this stranger to make a bid.

Y/N's breath hitched as, within seconds, her eyes locked with those of this dangerous man, his icy blue orbs penetrating through her like a shard of glass. She felt exposed, vulnerable, as if he could see every secret she held close to her chest, every fear she carried.

Thomas smirked at her, his lips curling with a dangerous mixture of arrogance and charm. He adjusted his tailored suit with the precision of a man who commanded respect, his piercing gaze locked upon the platform where the auctioneer eventually prepared to begin, with you by his side,

The auctioneer's voice boomed through the room, shattering the silence like a crack of thunder.

"Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we present to you a rare opportunity. Up for sale to the highest bidder is this young woman's innocence and her services for three months, at a location of your choosing” the man announced and, immediately, whispers raced through the air, mingling with the pounding of hearts.

Eyes flickered from Y/N to Thomas and back again, playing a silent game of anticipation and curiosity. Y/N's cheeks burned with a mix of nervousness and defiance. This was her choice, her chance to take control of her own destiny and yet she hoped that, at least, someone she could be attracted to would become her bidder.

As such, Thomas Shelby was clearly the most attractive and intriguing man in the room and, whilst Y/N had heard tales of Thomas Shelby, the man who straddled the line between the law and the underworld, she was not afraid.

Thomas Shelby’s notoriety preceded him like a shadowy myth and, again, his lips curled into a barely perceptible smirk, his features a carefully crafted mask of unreadable intent. The flicker of amusement in his eyes danced with a darkness that weakened Y/N's knees.

Was here to bid, she wondered? Or was he for the show and the sheer absurdity of it all?

"Let us not waste any time," the auctioneer then continued, his voice dripping with a blend of excitement and intrigue.

"Bidding for Miss Y/N begins at five hundred pounds" the actioneer then announced and the crowd stirred, pockets of murmurs rising like a symphony of anticipation. The forbidden allure of Y/N's offer had captivated them all, and now they were hungry for the chase.

Thomas Shelby remained a silent observer, however. His eyes locked onto Y/N's form with an intensity that made her feel exposed. A shiver of uncertainty crawled up her spine, but she refused to falter. She had made her decision, and she would see it through to the end.

Then, the first bid pierced the air, followed swiftly by another and another. The numbers climbed higher, the desperation of the bidders mirrored in their furious gestures and sharp intakes of breath. From her vantage point on the stage, Y/N watched the faces blur together, a sea of greedy desire stretching out before her like a treacherous ocean.

Among the throng of potential purchasers, only one stood out to her still and this was Thomas Shelby. His eyes were unwavering and fixed upon her. Bids soared into the thousands, the clambering voices echoing through the rafters. In this room of twisted desires and hidden intentions, Y/N's worth was being calculated, her innocence commodified.

A sense of nausea swirled within Y/N's gut, the weight of what she was about to lose hitting her like a sucker punch. She knew the money would bring temporary relief, but the cost of her first time being handed over so coldly – it was a sacrifice she could never fully comprehend.

Biting her bottom lip, Y/N steadied herself, her gaze finding solace in the not-so-innocent eyes of Thomas Shelby across the room. She had set this chain of events in motion, and she would have to live with the consequences, whatever they may be. At last, the bidding war reached its peak, the crowd growing restless, each participant desperate to claim the illustrious prize. The air crackled with anticipation, a storm waiting to unleash its fury.

The auctioneer, sensing the crescendo, roared, "Going once, going twice..." The tension in the room reached a fever pitch, every person holding their breath, their gaze transfixed on the stage. And then, in an instant, Thomas Shelby's voice, low and commanding, cut through the silence like a knife.

"Ten thousand pounds" he said and the room gasped, a collective intake of breath that snaked its way through the assembled throng.

Thomas's bid was a declaration, a statement that he alone was the one who would possess her at a price that was much higher than any other bid before.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, her pulse reverberating in her temples. She locked eyes with Thomas, her voice trembling as she promised herself that she would not crumble beneath his intimidating presence even though he wanted her to, by simply looking at her.

"Sold to Thomas Shelby for ten thousand pounds!" the auctioneer's proclamation hung in the air, sealing Y/N's fate like a binding contract.

A mixture of relief and trepidation surged through her veins, her steps faltering as she descended from the stage, her composure teetering on the edge. Thomas approached her with a measured stride, his every move calculated and deliberate. He extended a gloved hand towards her, a pale contrast against the darkness that seemed to radiate from him.

"Y/N, is it?" he asked, his voice a low timbre that held a hidden power, causing in Y/N to nod silently.

"It appears you now belong to me" he then asserted and Y/N paused for a moment, feeling herself teetering on the precipice between freedom and captivity.

“It seems so” Y/N responded as she chose to swallow her fear and accepted his hand, their fingers intertwining in a pact that neither of them fully comprehended.

“Very well then” Thomas responded before he pulled her closer and Y/N felt the weight of his reputation settle upon her shoulders. The echoes of his criminal empire whispered around her, the unknown dangers lurking beneath the surface of this enigmatic man.

With every guiding step, Thomas led her out of the brothel and into the night, the rain washing away the remnants of her former life. The world around her seemed to fade into insignificance, her focus solely on the ruthless man who had claimed her as his own.

***

Eventually, they emerged onto the dark streets of Small Heath, the rain obscuring their silhouettes as they walked side by side. Y/N's nerves danced with a mix of apprehension and curiosity, her mind frantically searching for answers to the questions that suddenly enveloped her.

"You've heard of me, eh. So you know what I do?" Thomas stated, his voice cutting through the raindrops like a razor and Y/N hesitated to answer for a moment, her words momentarily catching in her throat.

"Yes. I have heard that you are dangerous," she finally admitted, the honesty laced with a touch of fear. A hint of a smile danced across Thomas's lips, his eyes narrowing with a blend of amusement and something darker.

"Dangerous, eh?” he chuckled. “Well, I suppose that is not entirely wrong. Although, one might argue that danger can be seductive” Thomas then asserted and Y/N absorbed his words, feeling a shiver run down her spine. She couldn't deny the magnetic pull she felt towards this enigmatic criminal, as if some inexplicable force drew them together despite the odds stacked against them.

"Why me?" she whispered, her voice barely above a breathy plea. The question hung in the air, mingling with the quiet patter of raindrops on the pavement. Thomas stopped abruptly, his grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. His gaze bore into her, stripping away any pretence that either of them wore.

"Because I saw something in you that intrigued me. Despite, what kind of criminal would not want someone as innocent as you to corrupt, eh?" Thomas joked as the rain continued its relentless assault, washing away the remnants of Y/N's innocence and revealing a strength that had long lain dormant within her.

This journey was not just about the loss of her virginity – it was an awakening, a test of her own resilience. The intoxicating mix of danger, attraction, and the unknown propelled Y/N forward, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild creature. She had embarked on a journey into darkness, and she was determined to emerge on the other side, transformed.

[amysteryspot]

Hey Ari! I hope you’re doing well! 💕 I love this blurb idea you’re doing!

If you haven’t used it before…can you write something for Tommy using #13 from the list?

Thanks so much in advance if you choose to write it!!

Pairing: Thomas Shelby Ex-wife!Reader

Warnings: mentions of cheating; swearing; implied female reader; no use of Y/N.

Word Count: 266

Prompts: 13. Brought some strangers in our bed so now you lost your right to privacy. Spillin’ all our secrets, you thought they’d probably die with me (Nope). Know you fuckin’ love it on the low. & 14. And you don’t have to say I’m crazy 'cause I know, nothing’s changed though.

A/N: Hey, K. I hope you like how this one turned out. Added another one of the prompts because I thought it would fit it well.

Thomas Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Follow my writing on @mysteryslibrary

“Are you fucking insane?” You lift your eyes from the papers to look at an angry Tommy standing at the other side of the table.

“Good morning, Thomas.”

“Good morning?” He asks, incredulous. “Good… Only if it’s good for you.” He scoffs. “

“It’s been an excellent one, until you arrived.” You say, folding the paper and putting it aside on the table. Then you brought the cup to your lips, taking a sip of your tea.

“You’re going around telling lies about me.”

“Nothing I told him were lies, Thomas, and you know it.” You say, unfazed by his distress.

“You’re going to regret doing it.” He threatens, but you don’t budge.

“What, you’re afraid of what I have to say?” You ask, leaning back against the chair. “You brought some strangers in our bed so now you lost your right to privacy. I’ll be spillin' all our secrets, bet you thought they'd probably die with me. Know you fuckin' love it on the low, but I’m tired of keeping your dirty under the rug.”

“You’re…

“You don’t have to say I’m crazy 'cause I know, nothing’s changed though.”

He clenches and unclenches his hands and you know he is descending what will be his next move. Killing you would be too risky, your father is a very well known businessman that has ties in the parliament. So Tommy does the only thing he can and storms out of the room, leaving you alone, a smile on your lips as you sip your coffee. You were finally free from his lies and all of his cheating.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

❤️❤️❤️🌹🌹🌹❤️❤️❤️

Thank you!!! 🥰 I am loving being able to share what I am working on!

Since you showed interest in being added to my Tommy Shelby x Reader fic, I'll give you a little sneak peek from that!

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.” His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?” For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.” You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a WIP

[cosmic-crybaby]

Break My Heart Again - Tommy Shelby x Reader

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

Ratings: Mature, minors DNI

Warnings: Will be stated at the beginning of each chapter

1. Sign Of The Times

2. Would That I

3. The Other Woman

4. Let You Break My Heart Again

BONUS CHAPTER: 5. From The Start

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[red-write-hand]

so i made a friend!

alright y’all croutons. so i made a friend and they have a fic that they are SUPER proud of and they’ve gotten really no interaction with it. well, my lovely croutons, let’s go support my friend!!

@blueeyesandaflatcap

all of her stuff is stunning, her writing style is super gorgeous. she makes really cool ocs and her characterization is super amazing. pls pls pls go support her new fic, (i’ll link it)

pls go support this fic. GO REBLOG HER FIC. REBLOG. REBLOG. REBLOG. 🤩🤩🤩