Tommy Shelby Fanfic - Tumblr Posts
No Son Of Mine (One Shot)
Summary: Justice had finally been served in the wake of John's death. But with all acts of violence comes consequences, one Tommy must face when his trusted friend Johnny dogs stumbles upon the now orphaned baby of the traitor and his wife he and Arthur had both murdered in cold blood all in the name or revenge. With no child of their own and Graces refusal to send him to the orphanage, Tommy begrudgingly takes the child into his care. Will Tommy ever show young Oliver the love of a father he deserves? Or will he continue to see him as nothing but a burden the heavens had cruelly punished him with?
Warnings: Language, mentions of murder, mentions of blood, angst, fluff
Authors note: A lovely reader of mine popped into my messages and kindly asked me if I could write this story for them. I'm sorry for the long delay hun, I can only blame my procrastinating brain for my tardiness. Anyway, I hope i did your prompt justice. Enjoy!
"Right, we done?" Tommy said raising a brow as he wiped the blood that had splattered onto to his crisp white evening shirt looking to his brother Arthur nodding his head in response, his chest heaving up and down as he brushed his bloody hands through his hair, both having been sidetracked from the nights festivities.
" Fucking scum" Arthur sniffed wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he gave one last kick to the lifeless body at his feet. A cascade of events since John's death had led up to this very day, and Tommy and Arthur both simultaneously agreed without the need of words that justice had finally been served. Luca Changretta had been dead for almost a fortnight, the vendetta was over for all but the two surviving older brothers. That was until tonight when both Arthur and Tommy were unexpectedly called away to the news that Johnny dogs had found exactly who they'd been looking for. The traitor, the informer, the bastard that had given John's address to the Italians. A Peaky Blinder, one of their very own men.
" What about her?" Arthur spat a splutter of saliva laced with blood to the ground, the result of one lucky punch from the chancer that had tried his luck with the towering gangster. He'd put up a decent fight, one Arthur enjoyed watching before his patience grew thin and he pummeled his fist into him, each snap and break of his bloody face crumbling into something unrecognizable before being shot point-blank in the head. No one wanting or willing to hold him back. Not even Tommy. No forgiveness was given that dark night, only the sweet mercy met at the end of the barrel of a gun.
" Collateral" Tommy replied as he rubbed a cigarette across his lips not giving the nights events one ounce of remorse. This was for John after all.
" Collateral?" Arthur sniffed feeling a pang of guilt hit his stomach. Women and children were not to be harmed, an unspoken agreement before time in all dealings in war between men.
" Yes Arthur, fucking collateral alright?" Tommy snapped as he marched over to his brother whose eyes hadn't left those of the lifeless woman laid on the muddied ground below him " She ran into the line of fire brother. She all but killed herself" Tommy finished growing impatient with Arthur's weighing guilt. The last thing he needed was his number one soldier to be hit with a moral compass.
" Lads, we've got ourselves a wee problem" Johnny rushed over breathless as he loosened the neckerchief from the vein pumping angrily on the side of his neck. Fuck sake, Tommy thought to himself as he threw his cigarette to the ground. Things could never go smoothly, as smoothly as murder could go that was.
" What kinda problem?" Tommy replied as he and Arthur followed him into the small bedsit from the courtyard that two dead bodies had yet to be disposed of. The commotion resulting in the curiosity and twitching of the neighbours curtains, not one of them daring to or even contemplating in the slightest to inform any person of authority. Who would they go to? The police? The mere thought was laughable.
"Just a small one" Johnny replied taking two steps at a time up the rickety wooden stairs elaborating no further on what exactly had thrown a spanner into the works.
"A small problem Johnny eh? That's a big fucking problem!" Tommy ranted shaking his head as the three men entered the flat met with the sound of a newborn baby wailing in his woven bassinet, his bottom lip wobbling with each cry that furiously left his little lungs.
"Well he's small ain't he?" Johnny replied as he tilted his head looking down at the baby boy bundled in a white knitted blanket. You'd think with the the small army of children Johnny had fathered he'd be in his element. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Johnny was a natural with children, but a natural with children that had been weened, potty trained, and able enough to drive a four wheeled vehicle and shoe a horse. In basic terms, teenagers. But nonetheless wee babbies in his eyes. Newborns were all but a loud messy mystery to him.
" Jesus fucking Christ..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as his mind frantically tried to come up with a solution as to what in the hell he was going to do now.
" Bloody hell, bloody fucking hell!" Arthur bellowed as he kicked the chair beside him, the gravity of what they had just gone hitting him far more than any sin from the long list he had committed in the past. They had made a child an orphan, and Arthur's regret and new-found faith in the almighty was about to turn into a furious rage of self-inflicted guilt.
" Hey, hey!" Tommy said cupping Arthur's head in his hands in a vice grip, trying to snap him from the pit he was intent on falling in. " Johnny take the child and go start the car" Tommy said loosening his hands as Arthur's head cast down with shame at his sudden outburst. No reading of scriptures would ever be able to tame the raging fury from igniting within him at any given moment, no matter how hard he tried. " And Johnny, light a fire. Just as we did for John" Tommy finished reminding Arthur who this was for, who they were avenging.
" He won't quit!" Arthur panicked as he held the baby in the back seat of the car, fumbling with the hand stitched blanket as Tommy drove full speed down the country lane back to Arrow house were the night of meeting with dignitaries was surely over.
" He ain't a bloody chicken is he?" Johnny said as he reached over from the passengers seat taking the bundled up child into his arms. " Like this, look" Johnny added resting the baby's head on his shoulder as he silently prayed to every ancestor to take pity on him, promising them that the next child to be birthed with his last name he'd be the epitome of a modern father to.
" Shut him up Johnny!" Tommy shouted, his jaw clenched at the increased wailing in his ear, his nerves on edge by the constant reminder of the nights events he now had to deal with as he slammed his foot down on the pedal with Arrow house in sight.
"Grace!" Tommy's voice bellowed through the walls of the their house. Every guest had already left, the grand entrance cleared of tables of the most prestigious of all champagnes imported from France mere hours ago. A night of free food, free booze and music in return for them delving into their pockets. But with the host having been otherwise occupied for most of the evening it was a night wasted, one he would begrudgingly have to endure for a second time.
" Tommy..." Grace said as she hurried down the stairs pulling her ivory night gown around her as she watched Tommy pace back and forth with a cigarette hanging from his lips in the grand hallway.
" Here. You wanted a baby, now you have one" Tommy said as he took the child from Johnny's arms placing him into hers before storming off to his office and slamming the door shut, leaving his wife wide-eyed in confusion as Johnny and Arthur stood there sheepishly without a word.
" Frances, some warm cows milk and another blanket please. That will have to do until the morning" she said softly not wanting to startle the child anymore as she gently hushed his sobs away into small whimpers and sniffles. " One of you going to tell me what happened?"
It had been an hour, three whiskys, a packet of cigarettes and the rubbing of one's brow back and forth as a pounding headache settled onto his forehead since Tommy had shut himself away in his office, shutting himself away from the consequences of the night.
" Tommy?" Graces voice quietly announced as she entered the room with the newborn bundled in her arms soundly asleep as a flash of love at seeing his wife in her element softened her husband's face. Her motherly instincts that had been waiting to be freed finally being put to use after the longing for her own child.
" I've rung the orphanage" Tommy bluntly replied, the sweet moment that had captured him bitterly snatched away by no one else but himself as he stubbed out his cigarette. " They're coming first thing tomorrow to..."
" The orphanage. Tommy..." Grace interrupted him, her angered voice raising just above a whisper in response before being cut off herself.
" I won't hear anymore on it Grace. He can't stay here, that's the end of it" Tommy stood up throwing his lighter on a stack of paperwork as he rested his hands on the mahogany desk in front of him, looming over the list of numbers he had been calling as he huffed out a cloud of smoke.
" The end of it is it Thomas?" Grace scoffed as she walked forward, her eyes narrowing in on her husband with every step she took. " You made this child an orphan, he is your responsibility now. That's the end of it" she said coming to a stop in front of his desk as her husbands jaw tightened at her words.
" What about John's kids eh? They've been made orphans, hm? Grace? " He said as his wife turned her back on him as she headed for the door, Tommy's raised voice enough to startle a small whimper of cries from the baby boy now waking up from a deep slumber.
" When will it end Tommy?" Grace said as she came to a stop at the door. Tommy's relentless need for revenge against anyone who had dared to cross him leaving a string of orphans, elderly burying their own children and children burying their own parents. " A son Tommy, isn't that what you've wanted? What we've wanted?" she sighed, a deep wave of sorrow filling her heart as she looked down at the sweet child in her arms, a child she had yearned for during the unforgiving nights she had held onto her husband as tears streamed her face. Loss after loss breaking her already shattered heart.
" He'll be no son of mine"
Six years later...
" Elbows off Oliver" Grace reprimanded with a small smile of affection at the breakfast table to the child who had grown into a dimpled cheeked young boy as she rubbed her swollen stomach.
" Yes mummy" he replied kicking his legs back and forth as he wiped his cheeks from the egg soldiers he had just enjoyed as Tommy eyed him over the newspaper in his hand, reaching to caress his wife's stomach.
" He'll be here soon" Grace smiled to her husband lacing her fingers between his as she glanced over at her son that had no knowledge of who his birth parents were or the night that had brought him into their life, never wanting to or willing to send him into turmoil with the truth at such a young age "A baby brother for you Oliver " she winked to him as he grinned from ear to ear at the idea of having a sibling all whilst trying to stack the remaining pieces of toast into a strong hold that would keep the soldiers from the fiery dragon his imagination had conjured up. His attempts rendered futile when his tower of toast came crashing down onto the recently polished floors.
" Grace..." Tommy huffed folding his newspaper in half throwing it on the table in front of him, his patience easily tested with anything the small boy did that caused the slightest of inconvenience.
" Don't play with your food darling" she corrected him as Oliver's eyes darted to his father and the irritation clearly expressed in the creases of his furrowed brow. "Go clean up those buttery cheeks before I leave ok?" She smiled as the boy nodded in response while sliding off his seat only to stand on the scattered toast below him, causing a mountain of crumbs and further mess.
" You heard your mother" Tommy huffed lighting a cigarette as he looked down at the waste of food and the disorder that came with the child that had created it. " Oliver" Tommy pinched his brow as the little boy stood there doe eyed looking up at him nervously through his lashes.
" Go on" Grace smiled reassuring him as he ran to the door. " You're to harsh with him, he's scared of you" Grace said snapping her head to Tommy as he left the room.
" He doesn't listen" Tommy stated as he stood up taking a drag of his cigarette as he watched the boy through the crack of the door running up the stairs. " Stands there looking gormless whenever I tell him to do something, just like his traitor father"
" Tommy!" Grace said as she put the breakfast dishware down, crashing them onto the table in one loud clatter of knives, forks and spoons as she hurried to shut the door. " Don't ever let him hear you talk like that!"
" Well maybe he should know, eh Grace ?" Tommy said coldly stubbing his cigarette out, the pain from his brothers death never fully grieved, only ever making itself clear through the unfair coldness he showed to the child his wife had lovingly taken in all those years ago, raising him solely on her own over the watchful eye of him always standing from afar.
" You'd like that wouldn't you Tommy? Wouldn't have to keep up your facade anymore" Grace replied as she walked around the table. " Your his father, he knows no different. Just like this one" she said resting her hand on her stomach. " You're breaking his heart Tommy" she said taking his hand trying to reason with his stubbornness and the relentless friction he had undoubtedly created in the house the three of them shared. "I'm going to miss my train" she sighed as she closed her hand around his placing a tender kiss to his lips before turning to leave as Tommy followed behind her, watching from the door as she knelt down to Oliver in the entryway.
" Can't i come?" the young boy sobbed as she brushed his tears from his rosy cheeks. " Please?" he sniffed turning to see Tommy leaning against the door frame watching from afar, always from afar.
" I'm sorry darling, not this time" she replied a look of concern in her eyes about leaving him alone with Tommy, silently wishing this one time he would push his unenthusiastic demeanor aside and at least try if not for her then the little boy who thought the world of him. The same little boy with a determination that matched the very man who would brush off any attempts he made to impress him. Tommy's hate for the man that had fathered him clouding every parental instinct in his body. " I'll bring you something back" she winked giving him a hug before she fixed her hat and hesitantly turned to the door, leaving the young boy standing in the hallway sobbing as Tommy cruelly turned his back on his tears and shut the dinning room door behind him.
" Dad, Johnny, watch me!" Oliver shouted as he precariously placed one foot in front of the other climbing the large oak tree shading the evening sun on the grounds of Arrow house as Tommy and Johnny dogs watched on from the patio door. The young boy hell-bent on getting to the very top after seeing his uncle Arthur climb the very same tree two weeks earlier as he watched on in awe.
"That 'a boy!" Johnny shouted back pulling his cigarette from his mouth as he waved back. " Found 'em Tom" he turned to Tommy in a hushed voice as he leaned in. "They live up north in Yorkshire, factory workers in the local pressing center. Dirt poor, drunk ol' man that beats his wife within an inch of her life and too many mouths to feed" Johnny added as he watched Tommy's eyes following Oliver's every move.
" He's gonna fucking fall" Tommy huffed under his breath as he stood up straight, already on guard for the inevitable. He never fucking listens, why would he never listen to him?
" Tom, you listening ?" Johnny said as he pulled the address of Oliver's uncle from his pocket. " Grace will never forgive you Tom, he's her whole world" Johnny added as Tommy took the piece of crumpled paper from him, the decision to send Oliver to his family having been made after the unexpected news of Grace's pregnancy, a decision made solely by him without her knowledge. It's better she didn't know, better for him that was. And when the day did come, he'd tell her his family claimed him back. What grounds would she have to fight them? She'd be distracted with the birth of their son, she'd forget...wouldn't she?
"Dad look!" Oliver shouted trying to get his attention, determined to show him how far he could climb, how he was as fearless as any other Shelby before he misplaced his foot and came tumbling down to the ground.
"Oliver!" Tommy shouted throwing his cigarette into the grass as he and Johnny ran over in a panic. " What did I tell you eh?! What did I fucking tell you?!" Tommy shouted, all words of expected comfort and love absent from his voice as anger and frustration took over.
"I'm sorry..." he sobbed looking up to his dad as Tommy removed his cap from his head, running his hands through his hair as he looked down at the bloody cut on his hand, every ounce of his being telling him to cradle the boy in his arms that knew nothing but him as his father.
" Ay, up you get" Johnny said helping him as he gave him a pat to his back. " Just a scratch Oliver ay? No broken bones. Nout to worry on. Ain't that right Tommy?" Johnny said in attempts to reassure the sobbing boy and Tommy who was about ready to snap again, his jaw tightened at the sight of Oliver's cheeks streamed with tears, muddy and red from the blow of the fall.
"Get inside" Tommy said placing his cap back on as he started marching back to the house, ignoring the pit of fear in his stomach at how things could have taken a turn for a worse under his watch of the boy Grace had entrusted him with. " Boys don't cry Oliver. Soldier up and wipe those tears" Tommy harshly stated as he left him and Johnny by themselves as he made his way to his office, shutting himself once again away from any more responsibility, anymore damage his presence caused.
" Come on lad" Johnny said putting his arm around him as Oliver sniffed back his tears feeling foolish that he had not only fallen but cried In front of his father, the man that never cried.
Sitting back in his leather chair Tommy rubbed the weight of the guilt that had settled on his forehead with the tips of his fingers as the night drew in, the soft hue from the crackling fire the only source of light in the blackened room he had locked himself in for the remainder of the evening. The impending birth of his child had unexpectedly thrown Tommy's thoughts into an uncomfortable disarray. Out of sight out of mind had been Tommy's only solution to the feelings that had started to arise in him that fatherhood had threatened, that fatherhood had been threatening him with for six years. Oliver was more like him than Tommy dared to admit. The child's strong will and refusal to listen one of his own cruel making. Why couldn't he love him like he already loved his unborn child? How long could he keep this up? Would he be that man, unashamedly favoring one child in front of the other? With too many questions dominating his thoughts and his wife's gentle voice absent to soothe the demons he had created for himself, Tommy did what he only knew how to do. Drink himself to the bottom of a whisky bottle. Heading up to the second floor of Arrow house with the finest bottle of Irish whisky in his hand he stopped at the top of the stairs, small whimpers and cries coming from the room at the end of the hallway capturing his attention. Oliver's room.
" Frances!" Tommy called out as he waited for the the housekeeper to deal with what he knew he couldn't. "Fuck sake" he huffed under his breath after waiting in place for someone to come before he found himself walking down the hallway to Oliver's room. There, with his knees curled up to his chest Tommy watched though the crack of the door as Oliver rubbed his hand back and forth over the bandage wrapped tightly around his injured wrist, his small frame illuminated by the cast of the gentle moonlight shining through his bedroom window. Running his hand down his face Tommy opened the door as Oliver quickly turned around pulling the blankets up to his chin.
"Oliver?" Tommy questioned placing the bottle of whisky on the side cabinet as he walked over. " Why aren't you asleep?" Tommy said more bluntly than he intended to as he stood by the bed, feeling a wave of unease wash over him as he noted the small blanket Oliver was clutching onto. The very same blanket he was wrapped in the night they had found him. Grace had kept it, something he would have known if he had ever sat and read him a bedtime story, if he had ever woke in the night to hush the nightmares away from his worried mind, if he had ever even entered his room in all of the six years he had lived under his roof." Let me see" Tommy said in a gentler tone as he sat beside him on the bed. " Oliver let me see" he said when no response came from the whimpers the small child was trying to stifle. Boys don't cry. " Please?" Tommy sighed resting his hand on the child's back as his head fell into his other, the guilt of six year of taking the life of his parents settling on his shoulders pushing him further into his elbow digging into his leg as his head grew heavy with regret. Sniffling, Oliver turned around with his hand out as Tommy cradled it gently in his own, the difference in size causing Tommy's throat to go dry. The hate for his father's betrayal that of a grown mans doing, not this young boys that Tommy had cruelly burdened him with for six years " First of many battle wounds eh?" Tommy smiled to the young boy as Oliver's face stayed unchanged, unresponsive to Tommy trying to ease his worry. Had he done this? Made the child is his care so frightened of him he couldn't even a coax a smile from him?
" Soldiers don't cry" Oliver said pulling his hand away, his bottom lip turning down at the thought he wasn't as strong as his father, a soldier like him.
" They do Oliver" Tommy said as his brows knitted together at the thought that young Oliver had taken his words to heart. What else had Tommy said in the past six years, what else had he unknowingly taught him?
" You said boys..."
" And I shouldn't have " Tommy answered before he could finish as the boy wiped his tears from his youthful cheeks whilst a small silence filled the room, the strain from their relationship left empty with nothing further to say as Tommy desperately tried to search for the comforting words he knew Oliver needed to hear. " You want your mum don't you?" Tommy said swallowing harshly as he turned his head to the rays of moonlight cast on the wooden floor " I'm sorry Oliver, I'm..." Tommy huffed pinching his brow as he clasped his hand around the child's shoulder. "... I'm not very good at this. You gotta help me out here. Will you help me?" he said as he gently squeezed his shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth as the barriers Tommy had kept up started to fall around him as he desperately scrambled to gain back the wasted years he had been adored, loved unconditionally, a love he had never once reciprocated . " Get some rest" Tommy sighed patting Oliver's shoulder, his plea for help left unanswered as he stood up when a small hand grabbed hold of him.
" Tell me a story, please?" Oliver asked as he sat up in his bed looking up to the man he had always looked up to, always waiting for an ounce of affection.
" That what your mum does eh?" Tommy replied as he sat back down, adjusting the covers lovingly around the boy, if not a little overly enthusiastically as Oliver was now in a tight cocoon of covers and blankets with his arms securely fastened by his sides. " A story..." Tommy mused aloud, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as his brain mulled over all the potential tales that could see him sleeping in the guest room for an undefined amount of time if Grace ever found out, when the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile you would think had never seen the light of day let alone witnessed by anyone but himself. Arthur had made him swear in blood to never mention the day his gangly legs had gotten in his way causing him to fall from would could have been the very same tree Oliver had fell from earlier that day in attempts impress a girl three decades ago. " Arthur made me swear never to tell anyone, but you won't tell him I told you eh? Tommy said as the boy nodded his head, understanding the severity of pinky swears and the fate of death if you ever spilled.
" Cross my heart" he nodded with all the seriousness he could muster as his little face twisted into a stern expression, a worthy match to Tommy's own infamous pout. He was a Shelby after all, Tommy thought to himself as his heart suddenly filled with pride.
" That's my boy" Tommy said as he turned to sit beside him, wrapping his arm around his shoulder as Oliver nestled into his side " My son eh? Tommy nudged him into his body as the boys eyes beamed up at his father's loving gaze. "My son..."
One Way or Another
Summary: When your brother Bonnie warns you about the darkness lurking beneath Tommy Shelby’s charming exterior, you heed his advice and break up. However, a vengeful Tommy vows to get you back and his ruthless tactics are worse than you could have imagined.
Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see dark!Tommy manipulate a reader into staying with him using Charlie as leverage.
Warnings: language, dark!Tommy, manipulative behavior, allusion to non con (no graphic description), assault, discussion of pregnancy and adoption
You'd noticed the handsome, blue-eyed man the moment you and your family arrived in Small Heath. Intrigued by the mystery surrounding his enormous wealth and influence, you disobeyed your father's orders and began sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of Mr. Thomas Shelby. He soon took note of you as well, lavishing attention and gifts on you.
You even met his son Charlie a few times in his father's office. Giving voices to the toy horses and soldiers he would bring, the chubby toddler would laugh and grasp at your cheeks. You loved his laughter and often wished he was your own child. "You're a natural, sweetheart,” Tommy praised with a wide grin, which made you anxious for something more with him. You found yourself daydreaming about becoming Mrs. Shelby and giving him another baby.
Tommy wasn’t shy about expressing his own desire to you. A bottle of whisky and a sour mood had led him to confess that Charlie was not his son. He claimed it was an error in his judgement of character that would not happen again. This time he wanted things done in the proper way with the right woman, he said. You’d melted on the spot when he took your head between his large palms and kissed you full. His advances would escalate in the following meetings as he learned of your purity, more enamored with you than ever. You knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to make you his completely.
However, someone in camp must have taken note of your frequent visits to Shelby properties because word quickly got back to your brother, Bonnie. "Y/n, what are you doing with him? He's not good for ya," he said furrowing his brow in concern.
"What do you mean, Bon?" you asked curiously.
“Don’t you know? You must,” he insisted, underestimating your youthful naivete.
"He's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Y/n. He's responsible for cuttings and beatings…murders. No one is safe round him. Not even you," he warned ominously.
"Surely not," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy was an upstanding businessman, or so you thought.
"Y/n, please listen to me," your older brother begged, sliding closer to you. "I wasn't supposed to tell you,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “but Da and I are here to kill his enemies. And there's a long list. You don't want anything to do with Tommy Shelby, trust me," he stressed twisting his cap in his hands.
After a lengthy conversation about everything he knew, including the murder of Tommy’s first wife, you were shaking with fear. Bonnie wasn’t easily spooked and it bothered you to see him this upset. “Alright, I'll keep my distance," you agreed, witnessing his agitation.
Bonnie sighed with relief, but you noted an apologetic tinge to his voice when he said, "I only want to keep you safe.”
You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," you assured him and he relaxed back into his chair.
True to your word, you broke things off with Tommy the next day. You tried to be careful, explaining it in every conceivable way except the real reason. In your usual self effacing manner you babbled away to ease your nerves. "I'm much too young for you, Tommy. You'll get bored of me and everything I don't know. Surely you want someone more...experienced," you blushed.
Although he seemed to listen intently without judgment, inwardly he was fuming. It was your omission that told him everything he needed to know. Someone close to you had warned you off and he was certain it was your father or brother, perhaps both.
As you left his office that day, Tommy began plotting to get you back. Preferably in a manner that would punish you and your family. He would win you one way or another. Gambling was his livelihood after all and the odds were always in his favor.
----------------------
Two weeks later...
You heard Tommy's footsteps thudding on the stairs behind you, slowly and methodically. The rhythm pounded inside your skull like a drum, driving you to the brink of hysteria and quickening your own steps. He was frighteningly calm despite your obvious distress as though he enjoyed humiliating you.
"Come back to bed, love," he urged in a saccharine voice that turned your stomach.
Your body shivered in reply as you headed toward the sitting room in search of your coat. Blinking back the tears at your lash line and biting your tongue until it bled, you promised yourself you wouldn't let him see you cry. It had been the same tactic you used that morning when your father admitted he'd gambled away your innocence in a scrap metal yard when Tommy goaded him into a coin toss.
"You're going to allow this?" Bonnie yelled at your father, pacing the floor in anxious rage reserved for fight days.
Placing yourself between him and the two blinders who had come to collect you, you mumbled, “I'll be alright.” It was a meager attempt to convince him and yourself. Turning to your father you asked, “It’s only one night?”
Watching from the corner of the room, deathly still, your father replied "I hope so." But his eyes were wide and filled with terror, the likes of which you'd never seen.
A harsh tug on your elbow startled you out of yourself as Tommy towered over you. "Where do you think you're going, eh?" he asked tightening his grip, all attempts at gentle tactics now vanished.
"I'd like to go home to my family," you choked out desperately, fingers ghosting over his in a vain attempt to soften his grasp. If he held any affection for you, perhaps he would allow you to leave with a shred of dignity.
He smirked wickedly at your cowering form, “I don’t think you understand, love. This is your home now." Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear to reveal a bite mark on your shoulder he added, "We're just getting started, you and I." His thumb traced a dark bruise forming higher up on your neck and you winced as he pressed into it. He placed a kiss to your lips and murmured against you, “Going to tell me how much you loved having me inside you, filling you up?”
His nose brushed against yours as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady your voice. “Tommy, how can you expect me to stay after you hurt me like that?” you asked, eyes burning with tears as you relived the pain inflicted on your body and heart as you realized he’d never meant a word he said to you when you were courting.
“Everyone’s first time is like that, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped,” he replied, caressing your cheek. You felt the bile rising in your throat as you thought of how rough he’d been, holding you down and rutting into you like an animal without any regard for your comfort.
Mustering all your courage you asserted, “I don’t want it like that ever again.”
Tommy chuckled, “Every woman says that until she wants a baby. Then you'll be begging for it.”
You shook your head as you spat, “I don’t want a family with you.”
His eyes narrowed, large hand sliding down over your midsection as he tsked, “A bit late for that. You might already be carrying my child. What will you do then?” he asked with raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t ask anything of you and I don't want..."
"I don't give a fuck want you want," he interrupted, eyes blazing with fury. "You belong to me,” he hissed, hand snaking down to your throat.
“No!” you shouted, fighting against him. You were paralyzed by the feeling of your airway constricting under his crushing grip, reducing you to pathetic whimpers. He squeezed until your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, your fingertips scrabbling for his wrist and clawing uselessly.
Leaning to whisper into the shell of your ear, hot breath fanned over you along with his terrifying words, “You don’t want to make things worse now, do you?”
Just as your vision turned dark, he relinquished you and you fell to the floor gasping for breath. Between coughing fits, you became aware of the housekeeper, Mary, standing in the room. When Tommy had summoned her you weren’t sure. Perhaps you had lost consciousness at some point because she stood with Charlie in her arms and the ringing in your ears soon turned to shrill crying.
“Ch-Charlie?” you asked, reaching for the child with a hint of a smile in hopes of cheering him.The brightness returning to your eyes told Tommy all he needed to know. With clenched jaw, he jerked his chin and Mary left the room as quickly as she had appeared. “What’s she doing?” you mumbled, attempting to stand despite the fuzzy feeling swimming inside your head.
Tommy didn’t answer, pretending as though he hadn’t heard you. He picked up the phone, adopting a business like tone, and began, “Good evening, put me through to Sister Agatha.”
You could still hear Charlie’s desperate sobs echoing down the corridor as Tommy greeted the woman on the other end of the line. Standing on wobbly legs, you hesitated with uncertainty, wishing to comfort the boy. However, your attention was brought back to the cruel words you overheard next. Your jaw dropped as you heard Tommy proclaim, “Send someone to collect the child tonight.”
You scrambled toward him, a look of horror crossing your face. “What have you done?”
Tommy stood like a brick wall, cold and impenetrable. “What necessity dictates, my darling.”
“I d-don’t understand,” you stuttered at his heartless action.
Taking his time to light a cigarette and toss the match into the fireplace, Tommy smoked quietly for a few moments before ushering Mary back into the room. He took Charlie from her and placed the toddler in your trembling arms as your eyes darted between them. Within a few minutes the boy settled, his cheek resting upon your shoulder. As your hand caressed his golden curls, his cries turned to quiet hiccups and you felt the gentle motion of his thumb sucking before his limbs grew heavy with sleep.
“Tommy, what’s going on?” you begged to know as fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “Why are you behaving this way?”
Tommy stalked to you in three long strides, forcing your chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue stare cutting into you sharply, he scolded, “You’re the one forcing me to do these things.”
You tried to shake your head in adamant denial, but his harsh grip kept you in place. Through pinched cheeks you sputtered, “I never told you…”
“But you did,” he bit back. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to leave? That you didn’t want a family with me?” He threw your chin away in disgust as your brain reeled.
“You’re twisting my words…” you protested. “Of course, Charlie should stay.”
Just then a knock came at the door, followed by two nuns announcing themselves as representatives of St. Hilda’s. You backed into a corner, holding Charlie to your body protectively, heart beating wildly as you thought of a way to save him.
“What a darling little boy," one of the nuns chirped despite the late hour. Then she added carefully, "May I take him now?”
Tommy caught your eyes from across the room, “Go on, sweetheart,” he urged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
----------------------
Tag List:
@peakyswritings
@evita-shelby
@shelbydelrey
@alanadetigy
@severewobblerlightdragon
@lovemissyhoneybee
@theshelbyslimited
@kittycatcait219
@callsign-fangirl
@notyour-valentine
@areyenotfondofmelobster
@polishcrazyone
@elenavampire21
@little-diable
@lyarr24
@jomarch-wannabe
@the-fangirl-diaries
@kmc1989
@stilestotherescue
@helen06dreamer
@chaosinkest1996
@pietroxreader
@thomashelbyswife
@peakyltd
@gypsy-girl-08
@look-at-the-soul
@calummss
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@dandelionprints
@l1-l4
@rangerelik
@babayaga67
@runnning-outof-time
@brummiereader
@cillmequick
@call-sign-shark
New Endings Masterlist
Summary: When Tommy bumps into the woman he thought he'd never see again, he couldn't let her go once more. She lights something within him that he thought was lost and decides to help her in times of need. While she tries to cut ties with the life she’s living, she's forced to commit the ultimate betrayal.
❖ - Part 1
❖ - Part 2
❖ - Part 3
❖ - Part 4
❖ - Part 5
❖ - Part 6 - Coming soon
Please check the warnings of each chapter before reading.
One Way or Another
Summary: When your brother Bonnie warns you about the darkness lurking beneath Tommy Shelby’s charming exterior, you heed his advice and break up. However, a vengeful Tommy vows to get you back and his ruthless tactics are worse than you could have imagined.
Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see dark!Tommy manipulate a reader into staying with him using Charlie as leverage.
Warnings: language, dark!Tommy, manipulative behavior, allusion to non con (no graphic description), assault, discussion of pregnancy and adoption
You'd noticed the handsome, blue-eyed man the moment you and your family arrived in Small Heath. Intrigued by the mystery surrounding his enormous wealth and influence, you disobeyed your father's orders and began sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of Mr. Thomas Shelby. He soon took note of you as well, lavishing attention and gifts on you.
You even met his son Charlie a few times in his father's office. Giving voices to the toy horses and soldiers he would bring, the chubby toddler would laugh and grasp at your cheeks. You loved his laughter and often wished he was your own child. "You're a natural, sweetheart,” Tommy praised with a wide grin, which made you anxious for something more with him. You found yourself daydreaming about becoming Mrs. Shelby and giving him another baby.
Tommy wasn’t shy about expressing his own desire to you. A bottle of whisky and a sour mood had led him to confess that Charlie was not his son. He claimed it was an error in his judgement of character that would not happen again. This time he wanted things done in the proper way with the right woman, he said. You’d melted on the spot when he took your head between his large palms and kissed you full. His advances would escalate in the following meetings as he learned of your purity, more enamored with you than ever. You knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to make you his completely.
However, someone in camp must have taken note of your frequent visits to Shelby properties because word quickly got back to your brother, Bonnie. "Y/n, what are you doing with him? He's not good for ya," he said furrowing his brow in concern.
"What do you mean, Bon?" you asked curiously.
“Don’t you know? You must,” he insisted, underestimating your youthful naivete.
"He's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Y/n. He's responsible for cuttings and beatings…murders. No one is safe round him. Not even you," he warned ominously.
"Surely not," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy was an upstanding businessman, or so you thought.
"Y/n, please listen to me," your older brother begged, sliding closer to you. "I wasn't supposed to tell you,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “but Da and I are here to kill his enemies. And there's a long list. You don't want anything to do with Tommy Shelby, trust me," he stressed twisting his cap in his hands.
After a lengthy conversation about everything he knew, including the murder of Tommy’s first wife, you were shaking with fear. Bonnie wasn’t easily spooked and it bothered you to see him this upset. “Alright, I'll keep my distance," you agreed, witnessing his agitation.
Bonnie sighed with relief, but you noted an apologetic tinge to his voice when he said, "I only want to keep you safe.”
You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," you assured him and he relaxed back into his chair.
True to your word, you broke things off with Tommy the next day. You tried to be careful, explaining it in every conceivable way except the real reason. In your usual self effacing manner you babbled away to ease your nerves. "I'm much too young for you, Tommy. You'll get bored of me and everything I don't know. Surely you want someone more...experienced," you blushed.
Although he seemed to listen intently without judgment, inwardly he was fuming. It was your omission that told him everything he needed to know. Someone close to you had warned you off and he was certain it was your father or brother, perhaps both.
As you left his office that day, Tommy began plotting to get you back. Preferably in a manner that would punish you and your family. He would win you one way or another. Gambling was his livelihood after all and the odds were always in his favor.
----------------------
Two weeks later...
You heard Tommy's footsteps thudding on the stairs behind you, slowly and methodically. The rhythm pounded inside your skull like a drum, driving you to the brink of hysteria and quickening your own steps. He was frighteningly calm despite your obvious distress as though he enjoyed humiliating you.
"Come back to bed, love," he urged in a saccharine voice that turned your stomach.
Your body shivered in reply as you headed toward the sitting room in search of your coat. Blinking back the tears at your lash line and biting your tongue until it bled, you promised yourself you wouldn't let him see you cry. It had been the same tactic you used that morning when your father admitted he'd gambled away your innocence in a scrap metal yard when Tommy goaded him into a coin toss.
"You're going to allow this?" Bonnie yelled at your father, pacing the floor in anxious rage reserved for fight days.
Placing yourself between him and the two blinders who had come to collect you, you mumbled, “I'll be alright.” It was a meager attempt to convince him and yourself. Turning to your father you asked, “It’s only one night?”
Watching from the corner of the room, deathly still, your father replied "I hope so." But his eyes were wide and filled with terror, the likes of which you'd never seen.
A harsh tug on your elbow startled you out of yourself as Tommy towered over you. "Where do you think you're going, eh?" he asked tightening his grip, all attempts at gentle tactics now vanished.
"I'd like to go home to my family," you choked out desperately, fingers ghosting over his in a vain attempt to soften his grasp. If he held any affection for you, perhaps he would allow you to leave with a shred of dignity.
He smirked wickedly at your cowering form, “I don’t think you understand, love. This is your home now." Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear to reveal a bite mark on your shoulder he added, "We're just getting started, you and I." His thumb traced a dark bruise forming higher up on your neck and you winced as he pressed into it. He placed a kiss to your lips and murmured against you, “Going to tell me how much you loved having me inside you, filling you up?”
His nose brushed against yours as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady your voice. “Tommy, how can you expect me to stay after you hurt me like that?” you asked, eyes burning with tears as you relived the pain inflicted on your body and heart as you realized he’d never meant a word he said to you when you were courting.
“Everyone’s first time is like that, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped,” he replied, caressing your cheek. You felt the bile rising in your throat as you thought of how rough he’d been, holding you down and rutting into you like an animal without any regard for your comfort.
Mustering all your courage you asserted, “I don’t want it like that ever again.”
Tommy chuckled, “Every woman says that until she wants a baby. Then you'll be begging for it.”
You shook your head as you spat, “I don’t want a family with you.”
His eyes narrowed, large hand sliding down over your midsection as he tsked, “A bit late for that. You might already be carrying my child. What will you do then?” he asked with raised eyebrow.
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t ask anything of you and I don't want..."
"I don't give a fuck want you want," he interrupted, eyes blazing with fury. "You belong to me,” he hissed, hand snaking down to your throat.
“No!” you shouted, fighting against him. You were paralyzed by the feeling of your airway constricting under his crushing grip, reducing you to pathetic whimpers. He squeezed until your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, your fingertips scrabbling for his wrist and clawing uselessly.
Leaning to whisper into the shell of your ear, hot breath fanned over you along with his terrifying words, “You don’t want to make things worse now, do you?”
Just as your vision turned dark, he relinquished you and you fell to the floor gasping for breath. Between coughing fits, you became aware of the housekeeper, Mary, standing in the room. When Tommy had summoned her you weren’t sure. Perhaps you had lost consciousness at some point because she stood with Charlie in her arms and the ringing in your ears soon turned to shrill crying.
“Ch-Charlie?” you asked, reaching for the child with a hint of a smile in hopes of cheering him.The brightness returning to your eyes told Tommy all he needed to know. With clenched jaw, he jerked his chin and Mary left the room as quickly as she had appeared. “What’s she doing?” you mumbled, attempting to stand despite the fuzzy feeling swimming inside your head.
Tommy didn’t answer, pretending as though he hadn’t heard you. He picked up the phone, adopting a business like tone, and began, “Good evening, put me through to Sister Agatha.”
You could still hear Charlie’s desperate sobs echoing down the corridor as Tommy greeted the woman on the other end of the line. Standing on wobbly legs, you hesitated with uncertainty, wishing to comfort the boy. However, your attention was brought back to the cruel words you overheard next. Your jaw dropped as you heard Tommy proclaim, “Send someone to collect the child tonight.”
You scrambled toward him, a look of horror crossing your face. “What have you done?”
Tommy stood like a brick wall, cold and impenetrable. “What necessity dictates, my darling.”
“I d-don’t understand,” you stuttered at his heartless action.
Taking his time to light a cigarette and toss the match into the fireplace, Tommy smoked quietly for a few moments before ushering Mary back into the room. He took Charlie from her and placed the toddler in your trembling arms as your eyes darted between them. Within a few minutes the boy settled, his cheek resting upon your shoulder. As your hand caressed his golden curls, his cries turned to quiet hiccups and you felt the gentle motion of his thumb sucking before his limbs grew heavy with sleep.
“Tommy, what’s going on?” you begged to know as fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “Why are you behaving this way?”
Tommy stalked to you in three long strides, forcing your chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue stare cutting into you sharply, he scolded, “You’re the one forcing me to do these things.”
You tried to shake your head in adamant denial, but his harsh grip kept you in place. Through pinched cheeks you sputtered, “I never told you…”
“But you did,” he bit back. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to leave? That you didn’t want a family with me?” He threw your chin away in disgust as your brain reeled.
“You’re twisting my words…” you protested. “Of course, Charlie should stay.”
Just then a knock came at the door, followed by two nuns announcing themselves as representatives of St. Hilda’s. You backed into a corner, holding Charlie to your body protectively, heart beating wildly as you thought of a way to save him.
“What a darling little boy," one of the nuns chirped despite the late hour. Then she added carefully, "May I take him now?”
Tommy caught your eyes from across the room, “Go on, sweetheart,” he urged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”
----------------------
Tag List:
@peakyswritings
@evita-shelby
@shelbydelrey
@alanadetigy
@severewobblerlightdragon
@lovemissyhoneybee
@theshelbyslimited
@kittycatcait219
@callsign-fangirl
@notyour-valentine
@areyenotfondofmelobster
@polishcrazyone
@elenavampire21
@little-diable
@lyarr24
@jomarch-wannabe
@the-fangirl-diaries
@kmc1989
@stilestotherescue
@helen06dreamer
@chaosinkest1996
@pietroxreader
@thomashelbyswife
@peakyltd
@gypsy-girl-08
@look-at-the-soul
@calummss
@kpopgirlbtssvt
@dandelionprints
@l1-l4
@rangerelik
@babayaga67
@runnning-outof-time
@brummiereader
@cillmequick
@call-sign-shark
To Be Alone | Tommy Shelby x OC | Masterlist
Summary: Celia Farraday and her family had to return to England to say goodbye to her dying grandfather. Misfortune falls upon her family soon after, and now she has to find work on the streets of Birmingham to help her parents afford rent. These are the same streets controlled by the Peaky Blinders, and Celia soon finds herself in the line of fire of said gang’s leader, Tommy Shelby.
Warnings: language, violence (typical to the series), mentions of death and child illness, familial arguing, smoking, drinking, talks of war/PTSD, mentions of prostitution, brief descriptions of assault, descriptions of a panic attack, weapons, sexual situations (PG-13 rated), murder, mentions of prostitution, minor character death, hospitals
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Peaky Blinders characters, just the main OC, and other original characters that will be introduced throughout this fic.
———
Chapters:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29
30 Epilogue
To Be Alone Shorts:
Snapshots into Tommy and Celia’s life.
-> In Secret: It's only been two months since Tommy asked Celia to marry him, but he can't wait any longer. This on the whim decision angers some family members once they find out it's been done. Then, Tommy honors a promise he made to Celia back in America.
-> A Sunny Spring Day: a moodboard and blurb of Celia and Eden’s day out on the grounds of Arrow House
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | tommy shelby x reader › 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆
when you read the biography of the shelby family you decide to travel back in time to help them and save the lives of several of them, but things get complicated when you start to have feelings for thomas shelby
word count: 4451
masterlist
content: fluff and emotions
warnings/info: mention of weapons, too many conversations, grace and thomas don't fall in love in this fic. it is adapted to the series but i changed several things. based on peaky blinders season one.
author note: english is not my first language, so forgive me if there are spelling mistakes
You walk with slow steps, you're terrified. You travelled to this place believing it would not be risky, but when you arrived in the city your veins filled with fear, and your courage fled like that woman you saw in the dark alley, fleeing from the man who tried to hurt her so cruelly.
The streets of Small Heath were more dangerous than the biography you read for weeks before travelling said, there were not only criminals, there were also people looking to do harm and steal what little hope was left in the palms of innocent people's hands. This city is like a dark hole, once you fall into it you will never get out.
You take a last deep breath and open the weathered wooden doors to enter the famous pub called Garrison. The eyes of several men sweep over your figure but you ignore them and begin to search your eyes for the only person you care about, and that person is Thomas Shelby, the leader of the Peaky Blinders, the horse enthusiast, the man who received two medals in the Great War, the reason you travelled to this town, your mission.
You approach the bar where a tall, thin man with a serious face and rather striking ears looks at you judging you with his dark brown eyes. Normally you were used to men disrespecting women but in this era women had no right or voice, they wouldn't mind hurting you if they had the chance, for them women were just a piece of meat to satisfy their "needs", just thinking about that idea makes you want to vomit. Finally you get up the courage to speak and clear your throat, trying to get the nerves out of your body: "I'm looking for Thomas Shelby" you say.
"A woman shouldn't be in this place," he replies in disgust, ignoring you completely. He goes back to his work, cleaning the bar and serving alcoholic drinks to the customers.
"Do you know where I can find him?" You ask again and this man ignores you again. About to speak again his eyes look behind you and grow wide with fear, he stands up straight and nods, formally greeting the person behind you.
"Why you looking for me?"
A low, husky voice sounds behind you, sending a shiver down the bones of your spine, you swallow your saliva nervously and turn to look at the person with the attractive voice. He wasn't as tall as his biography said, but his defensive stance made him intimidating, his piercing blue eyes mesmerised you and his strong, clenched jaw gave you goosebumps.
"When I ask a question I expect an answer." He speaks again but nothing comes out of your mouth. Thomas Shelby lets out a tired sigh and takes a cigarette out of his pocket and then points it at you: "Are you a whore?"
You open your mouth in offence, ready to reply rudely, but then you remember where you are and who is standing in front of you, calm yourself and take a deep breath, preparing to speak to Birmingham's most feared gangster: "No, I'm not a whore." His pale blue eyes look away from you to light his cigarette, but a few seconds later they focus on you again. "I'm looking for you because I have a message for you" You look around, all the men's eyes focus on the two of you, "I need to tell you in private" He raises an eyebrow and then cocks his head.
"Well, let's talk in private." Thomas Shelby turns to go to a small secluded room at the side of the bar, opens the door and gestures for you to enter first. Inside there is a table with whiskies and a couple of chairs around it, the sound of the door closing diverts your attention from your observation and you notice him move behind you until he is facing you again, he takes a puff on his cigarette and blows the smoke out, creating a haze between your faces. "If you're not a whore, what are you and what do you want?"
"I'm just a woman" You blink, "And I've come to give you a little message: the men you sent to do that robbery are too drunk, they'll get the wrong box and bring you a box of government weapons instead. I suggest you throw them in the canal and for nothing in the world hide them, otherwise your life will change completely and it will be the first step for misfortunes to come into your life like rats looking for scraps." When you finish speaking the gangster's eyes darken, and it is then that you fear for my life for the first time.
"Who the fuck are you and how do you know about that robbery, eh?"
"As I said before, I'm just a woman. Do as I say Thomas Shelby." You stride out of the Garrison, once in the small house you've been renting for over a month you let the bated breath out of your lungs and close the door. Your sweaty hands roam the furniture until you find the bottle of rum, uncork it and take a deep swig, praying that it will take effect and take the trembling out of your body. What you had done broke all the rules you had created for yourself, you couldn't tell the people you were trying to help what would happen in the future but you found it impossible not to, it's many years apart and this time you're not helping someone innocent, you're trying to change the life of a mobster. You took a risk by exposing your identity to Thomas Shelby, now you just had to wait and if he really listened to you, you could go back to your time, otherwise it would take more than a year and that's what you least wanted.
Your plan to have tea the morning after the events is interrupted when there is a light knock on the door, you leave the sugar on the side of the table and go to the door to open it, behind the door you meet the person you least expected to see on this cold, dark morning. His expression is serious but his eyes look confused.
"We need to talk and this time you'll tell me who you are."
Thomas Shelby enters the house without your permission, you stand stunned in the doorway watching the man light a cigarette and sit in one of the chairs as if nothing has happened. Taking one last look at the gangster you close the door and walk over to the table, also sitting down in a chair and preparing yourself for what is to come, as this mission will not be as easy as you had planned.
"I tried to do some research on you after you ran away from the Garrison." He speaks again and takes a deep drag on his cigarette "The people here don't know anything about you, nobody knows you and nobody knows for sure when you came to Birmingham. So I went to your house to get you to explain to me how the fuck you knew about my planned robbery and how you knew they'd get the wrong box and just like you said, now I've got government guns in my hands. You'd better speak up and tell the truth."
"If I tell you the truth you won't believe me" You say sincerely.
"Are you a witch?" He asks a second later.
"No. More like a seer." You lie to his face.
"A witch" He affirms his own question, staring at you.
"I just wanted to warn you about the guns to save you the trouble but I see it was in vain because you still keep them" You grab the cup of tea and drink from it, "Do you want tea?" You ask, you may be with the most feared mobster of the 1920's but you would never lose your kindness.
He gawks at you and shakes his head, "I'm not a tea man." Thomas Shelby lifts the cigarette to his thick lips for one last puff and then flicks it into the ashtray that happens to be on the table. "What's your name?"
Your eyes drop to the cup in your hands, your missions couldn't know your name, another of your rules. So you look for the first way out: "How do you know where I live?" You ask him another question and look him straight in the eye.
A small wry smile escapes his lips and he clasps both hands together on the table to bring his face close to yours. "You won't tell me your name, will you?" your lips part to answer him but you seal them again, "Fine, I'll find out just like I did with your home address." Thomas Shelby pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket and drops it on the table and then gets up from his seat and walks towards the door, "Are you any good with numbers?" He asks you and you look at him confused but end up nodding, "Today you will quit your job as a housewife and start working at my family's betting shop, there's the address" He points to the paper with his index finger "So when you have a vision for my life you can tell me before I make another...mistake" And without another word he walks out of the house, leaving you stunned in your chair. This shouldn't be happening.
You were making big mistakes, your main goal is to help or change the lives of the people you choose from the background, without having contact with them. But you also had to admit that all last month you got nothing out of being away from Thomas Shelby, maybe if you had approached him from the beginning the mistake of the guns wouldn't have happened, and you wouldn't be in this mess today.
For the next two hours you questioned whether you should really take this job or just abandon this mission and go back to your own time, you were about to lock yourself in the wardrobe to give it all up but then you remembered the tragic life of the Shelby family, you couldn't go back. Even if they didn't know it they needed your help, all the unjust deaths that were coming were breaking your heart in two, they deserved better and if you were the only person who could change their lives you would do it, even if in the process they would probably hate you or you would end up buried lifeless in the dirty mud of Birmingham. You put on a simple white shirt with a brown skirt and pick up the paper with the address of your next job, a few minutes later you arrive at the famous Shelby house on Watery Lane, you knock on the door but no one answers, you knock again and nothing.
"Nobody will open the door because no one is at home"
A woman's voice interrupts your action of knocking again on the black wooden door with a horseshoe nailed to it. Your head jerks in her direction and you can't help but recognise her, her snub nose and dark-as-night eyes are typical Polly Gray features. She takes a drag on her cigarette and looks you up and down, intimidating you to the bone.
"What do you want?" She asks.
You nervously fix your fringes "I think Thomas has given me a job."
She raises an eyebrow: "So you're that famous seer. He told me he'd give you a place at the betting shop, so you have to go through the other entrance, down Montague Street."
"I didn't know that. Thomas gave me this address." You take the paper from the pocket of your worn woollen coat and hold it out to her, she takes it and reads it, then shakes her head, throws the cigarette on the floor and takes a key from her small purse to open the door. She gives you permission to enter and you both walk down a hallway to a living room decorated with brass and elegant floral china. The Shelby house is compact and has a typical terrace style. There is an excessive amount of floral and brass decorations throughout. The Shelby family are rich in money but lacking in what is considered conventional good taste, it was evident that their gypsy roots were intact in their home, as you come to a small kitchen with a coal fireplace there is a pantry that has been opened up to form a small back room. But instead of a wall, black curtains cover what is on the other side.
Polly Gray walks up to them and opens them, then opens two doors in a row, finally arriving at the famous betting shop, which is bustling with activity. The large room is dominated by a huge blackboard where two bookmakers keep the bets and odds. You approach it and look at it carefully, each holding a ladder to reach the top of the board. Your eyes move to scan the room which is filled with cigarette smoke. In the middle of the large room is a large desk where men queue up to place bets and at the back of the room is a small office, divided by glass and curtains. Polly Gray walks up to stand in front of you.
"With all due respect, but isn't having a betting shop in your own house illegal?" You ask.
"It is. But this house belongs to the Peaky Blinders and nobody messes with us, dear. Now, this will be your workstation, you will count all the money we collect during these hours and write it down in this book. At the end of the day you will calculate the total and write it down too" She hands you a huge dark brown one, full of dust and yellowed pages. "It was Arthur's work, but he is very bad at adding numbers, so this afternoon you will catch up with all the miscalculated numbers in this book." She turns around walking back towards the kitchen, "Good luck with that!". She shouts at you and disappears from your sight, leaving you alone in the middle of all those men looking at you as if you were an intruder.
You press the book tightly to your chest and take a seat at the large desk, you had to concentrate. One wrong step and they'd know you didn't belong in this era, and your attempt to help this family would be futile. You carefully check the numbers and definitely the older brother from Peaky Blinders doesn't know anything about sums, they were all wrong, you ask the man sitting next to you for a pen and start correcting all the wrong sums, at the end of the day you finish your work successfully and leave the book on the kitchen table and go back to what you call home. The same routine is repeated for two weeks, the Shelby brothers would come to the betting shop from time to time, do their typical revisions and leave for hours. Thomas Shelby was not a frequent visitor, the only time he came by he watched you work in detail and left without a word. You had to hurry, his future wife had already arrived in town, which meant he would soon be betrayed by her, which would cause him to become more involved in the mafia, you had to prevent it, you would save several lives, even hers in a few years.
You walk into the kitchen ready to put the book down when suddenly Thomas Shelby, soaked to the skin, enters, as usual, with a cigarette in his mouth. "Good evening, Mr Shelby," you say and turn around, but before you walk away you stop and look at him, perhaps it's the right moment to tell him what you've been rehearsing for days. "I'd like to give you an honest opinion about your business, Mr. Shelby," you start to speak and move closer to him, standing a few inches away. He nods slowly, giving you permission to continue. "Every day I write a large amount of money, the two weeks I've been working here the figures haven't stopped going up..." You look into his pale blue eyes. "Why don't you invest all that money in a new place to do your bets? A legal place, where the police can see it and can't do anything against you."
He takes a puff on his cigarette and approaches you, his breath mingling with yours in the air. "Come with me, let's talk business somewhere else."
Thomas Shelby starts to walk away from you, you soon follow him. As you walk you say nothing, your nostrils fill with the smell of wet earth, it has been raining at night for days and you couldn't be happier, you loved the rain. When you finally reach your destination he opens the door and you walk in without complaint, inside the pub it was warm, in the distance you see Gracie Burgess, she was even more beautiful than in the old photographs, blonde, blue eyed and delicate as a feather.
"Leave us alone, Grace," Thomas says dryly.
"Yes, Mr Shelby." She sets the whisky aside and walks out of the pub past you.
You walk over to where Thomas is sitting, lighting another cigarette. "I hear she sings beautifully," you say and sit down next to him, he frowns at you, "Besides, she's pretty, isn't she?"
"How do you know she sings?" he asks.
You get nervous and look for an excuse to remedy your mistake, "There are many people who say that...that sometimes she sings here."
He shakes his head, "I forbade her to sing weeks ago". Thomas looks down at the cigarette between his fingers, wondering why it mattered so much to you to talk about Grace.
You think deeply, according to her biography her singing made Thomas Shelby's cold and broken heart fall in love, if that's not exactly happening there are only two theories: whoever wrote the biography got it wrong or something is going on because of a mistake of yours. "Why did you forbid her to sing?" You ask him and he raises his eyes to stare at you.
"Because I am Thomas Shelby, and no one should disobey my orders" He says ironically and fills his lungs with smoke.
You chuckle "So this isn't a real pub. In pubs people sing and have fun maybe... you should let her sing".
"Maybe... Now tell me why are you so interested in the business? Would you like to be part of it?"
"No. Not really" You answer honestly, "I just feel that you and your family can have a lot more money without the need to be illegal"
"You don't like that we're criminals, eh?"
You shake your head, "No. I don't judge you for the life you have and chose, I just think you're a good family who deserve something good, something less...dangerous."
Thomas Shelby looks at you looking for a reason for your kindness to him and his family, ever since he met you, you have not stopped telling him that he deserves a better life than the one he has. Your simplicity appeals to him constantly and he hasn't stopped thinking about you since that day in this pub, he stubs out his cigarette and takes some coins out of his pocket, leaving them on the table. "I'll take you to the races, with this money buy yourself a nice dress. A beautiful woman deserves one, don't you think"
You stare at the money blushing, other men have called you beautiful but Thomas Shelby saying it had a different effect on you, something you thought was long lost, you blink a couple of times before picking it up. "When are the races?"
Your reddened cheeks look like a gesture of tenderness to Tommy, who smiles a faint smile on his lips.
Tommy takes you by the waist with one arm and guides you to the side to get a better view of the horses, everyone around you is excited about the race ahead. You and he, on the other hand, are quiet, enjoying the moment.
"They are the best this season" He starts to explain to you once you find a comfortable place, "That one there is the fastest in this race, he will probably win it" He says pointing to a black horse, you look carefully at the other horses, you didn't understand much about how to identify a good horse but a white one with black spots catches your attention, you look again at the gangster next to you who already had his eyes fixed on you.
"For me the white with black spots will win." You tell him and this time you point your finger at a horse. His eyes move in that direction and he automatically shakes his head.
"That one lacks training, it won't win."
"Wanna bet?" You challenge him and he raises an eyebrow with a coy smile on his lips.
"Alright, let's bet. If the one I say wins, you'll dance with me and tell me your name" He moves closer to you "If the one you say wins, you'll get a promotion at work, you'll be my secretary and the family business accountant"
You look at him in surprise, you were expecting a money bet, not that. You look at the horses preparing for the next race, a thousand thoughts come into your head, he can't know your name, that would only make his affection for you grow stronger, just like it is happening with you. You swallow hard and your eyes travel to his, they were like the ocean, so beautiful but at the same time they generated fear in your whole body. Unable to control your words you end up accepting his bet and he smiles blushing like a teenager, unable to control his emotions.
The sound of the gunshot brings you out of your trance and you look at the horses, which are running at full speed together with their rider leaving a dust in the air, you approach the bar and look carefully at the white horse, Tommy was right, it was slow compared to the others but you don't lose hope, your hands clutch the iron bar, squeezing it tightly. And a scream comes out of your lungs when the white horse catches up with the black horse but seconds later it runs slower, coming last among all the horses. The race is over, the black horse is the winner, your eyes turn to Thomas Shelby who offers you his hand with a mischievous smile, you take it and together you walk towards the dance floor, where jazz music reigns in every corner of the room.
Tom puts one hand on your waist and the other on your right hand, you try to follow his steps but it's impossible, you laugh as you make another mistake, inadvertently stepping on the left foot of the man in front of you. "Sorry, I've never danced jazz"
Thomas looks at you, unable to believe your words: "Why is that?"
"Well...in my town we don't dance to this kind of music" You try to explain, but you can't tell him that women in 2023 dance sensually in short dresses, "The music I usually dance to is more free, without the need to dance with a partner"
He pulls you close to his body and your faces are inches apart. "You are different from other women. I've never met a woman so interested in business and yet so spontaneous."
"All women are spontaneous and also like business," you say offended.
He caresses your back with his hand and shakes his head "I don't mean to offend you, I agree, but it's very difficult to find a woman like you here. Normally women were brought up to marry and raise a family. You show no interest in such things."
Your faces are almost glued together, and that's when you realize the reason he invited you to a race, the reason he's so insistent on knowing your name. Thomas Shelby showed no interest in Grace Burgess because you had captured his attention in every way. Despair invades your whole soul and you try to patch up another mistake of yours. "Grace is also a very intelligent woman, even more so than I am" He frowns as he listens to you "Besides beautiful and she—"
Tommy's lips are glued to yours, your first instinct is to pull away from him but you can't, instead you close your eyes and let yourself go. You just couldn't deny the fact that he is a very attractive man and you had been dying to taste his lips for a long time, you just didn't know that the feeling was reciprocated. Thomas grabs your waist tightly, pressing his body completely against yours and deepens the kiss, his lips were soft but they were full of desperation, he wanted more, he wanted every part of your body but you couldn't let him. So you pull away from him with a push from you. He opens his eyes not understanding what is happening while you shake your head.
"This is wrong, Tom. You shouldn't be with me" You say, unable to control your words, totally disturbed by what had just happened.
"What are you talking about, ey?" He asks and approaches you, taking your hands.
You break free of his grip and pull away from him. "I can't be with you, Thomas."
He pushes his hair back and purses his lips before speaking: "Are you...do you love another man?"
Your gaze goes down to the ground, you think of the consequences if there is something between you. It would change everything and you could never go back to your time, you would never see your family again and you could never travel back in time, and the destiny of him and his family would change completely, you would no longer know what would happen to his life if he is with you and not Grace. Your eyes fill with tears and you look him straight in the eye. "Yes. I am in love with another man" You lie to him.
He takes a deep breath and nods, "Good. I think it's time for you to go home."
click here
Lee! Hope you're doing well 💋 so I so your prompt for the requests and if you're feeling inspired with this what about?
- ❛ I’ve killed for you. Who else can say that? ❜
with Tommy?
The Debt
Warning: Dark!Tommy 💀, mention of gun, blood, murder, trauma
You bit your hand to keep from screaming as the man in the long, black overcoat pushed you inside your small bedsit. The door slammed behind you as you stumbled toward the window, pushing the lace curtains aside with trembling fingertips. The remnants of blood were still there on the cobblestones beside the alley, though it was quickly being washed away in the driving rain.
Your memories of the violence carried out in your name would not be erased so easily. The bile rose in your throat as you thought of each shot striking its target, blood gushing over the pavement and splattering onto your shoes. You looked down to see the evidence of the stains that had ruined your new boots, an odd sensation washing over you as though you were staring at someone else's feet rather than your own.
"Come away from the window, love," a low voice rumbled across the room like thunder.
Your body shuddered involuntarily at the noise, a hand gripping the window ledge to keep upright. Feet uncooperative as your mind, you attempted to reply, but found yourself unable to dislodge the words from your brain. You shook your head fiercely, but the cotton headed feeling wouldn't budge.
The man scoffed at your disobedience, removing his coat to wrap around your shoulders protectively. He clamped a large hand over your shoulder, guiding you toward the little table in the corner. As he handed over a flask, he instructed, "Sit down and have some of this. It'll steady your nerves."
Suddenly you heard yourself stutter, "I...d-d-don't drink."
"Alright, tea then," he conceded. "Where do you keep it?" He leaned over you, eyebrow raised in question until your finger pointed in the direction of a far cupboard.
As he turned away, his gun came into view and your heart began to hammer at your ribcage until you thought you might faint. Pressing your fingers to your temples, you closed your eyes and attempted deep breaths. Eventually you pushed them out in labored waves, though your body was quickly wracked by sobs.
"Hey, hey...there's no need for tears," you heard the deep voice begin to soothe as you felt a warm cup being pressed into your palms.
Looking up through watery eyes, you sniffed, "Who are you? What do you want?"
Taking a seat opposite you, the man's crystalline blue eyes locked onto yours intently as he introduced himself as Tommy Shelby. "You don't know who I am?"
"No," you admitted. "I've only just arrived this week."
Tommy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You'd never have taken that short cut if you'd known the sorts of bastards lurking."
A draft blowing through the crack in the windowsill crept across the back of your neck at that moment, triggering a phantom feeling of icy fingers upon your throat and you startled losing your grip on the china.
Tommy caught the cup before it landed on the floor, hissing as the hot liquid scalded his hands.
"I'm sorry, I felt his hands..." you mumbled, fingers tracing the delicate skin where the man from the alley had grabbed you.
"You've had a shock," Tommy stated, cleaning himself off with a rag. "But you needn't worry any longer. You're under my protection now." He stood with a determined nod, gathering his cap and placing it on his head.
For the first time that evening your shoulders relaxed and you breathed a sigh of relief. With a bit of effort, you banished the terrifying images of what you'd seen and tried to find good in the intimidating man before you. You even began convincing yourself it was fate that brought him to look after you in your new city.
However, as you stood to remove Mr. Shelby's coat, he casually announced, “You can bring it tomorrow when you see me about repaying your debt.” Then he proffered a business card.
You stared up at his chiseled face, partially covered in shadow. Unable to tell if he were serious. "I don't understand,” you admitted with a puzzled look.
Clicking his tongue disapprovingly, he pulled on a pair of black leather gloves. “So forgetful all of a sudden, aren't we," he scolded.
Your throat went dry, constricting painfully when you tried to swallow. "What do you mean?"
The leather cracked menacingly as he reached out to caress the apple of your cheek with the back of his hand. "I've killed for you. Who else can say that?" he reminded you in a voice far too flat and calm to offer affection.
Your eyes went wide as you searched his darkening pupils, panic shooting down your spine as you thought of what awaited you at the address printed on the card. The bit of paper shook violently in your hand as his thumb grazed your lips, leaving a powerful promise in his wake. "I've done something for you, now it's your turn."
When you bristled beneath his touch, he leaned toward your ear, a hiss escaping on his whisky scented breath. "I could return you to that alley if you like, but I think you'll find this arrangement far better." He turned without giving you a chance to protest. There was no need for once you owed a debt to Tommy Shelby, he owned you for life.
---------------
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Every little thing you do- Master list
Tommy Shelby x reader (mini series)
Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Special thanks to @justrainandcoffee for the gorgeous moodboard and @lyarr24 for sending the request in and boosting my inspiration ✨
Divider
"Look After You" || Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: Time and distance cannot break certain promises
Word count: 4.2k
Tags: Mentions of war, mental asylums, unjust imprisonment, mentions of controversial mental health treatments, cross dressing (?), implications of violence against women, illness, no betareading we go in raw
Author's note: You might have seen this post where I mention the life of Dorothy Lawrence. Well this is very loosely based on her life mixed with Tommy's story. Left it very open to a part 2 if people like the premise.
(Yes my people watch me put together moodboards instead of choosing gifs)
Requested tag (hope not to disappoint) @brummiereader @emotionalcadaver
The asylum stood tall and imponent before Tommy’s gaze, its towering central dome and flanking turrets framed by the bright sun rays of a cheerful spring afternoon. The radiant gardens contrasted dramatically with the derelict state of the building itself; rusty and broken drainpipes hanging from the roof, rotten wood frames and shattered window panes, missing chunks of brick on the walls, revealing the inner framing and plaster. Nothing about that place inspired trust to those who crossed its threshold, let alone hopes of betterment. The lamentable exterior stood like the perfect match of the decadence within.
The smell of rot assaulted him the second he entered. The paint had started to peel off, and moisture stains crawled across walls and ceiling. Most windows in the main hall were shuttered, and the incandescent light bulbs did little to cut through the darkness, casting a sickly shadow over the room. The orderly that welcomed him in the entrance had an embittered face, and he questioned Tommy on his name, whom he was visiting and his reasons to. He patted him down and overturned his pockets, making him leave behind anything that could be used to harm or be harmed. Cap, cigar case, lighter, sleeve garters and shoelaces stayed behind while another orderly led him through long hallways and endless locked doors towards the morning hall where he’d meet the purpose of his visit.
Finally, they stopped before a wide set of oaken double doors with panels of rubbed glass, which allowed him a faint peek of what happened on the other side. The orderly barely opened the door enough to enter himself and told Tommy to wait outside, as if he feared something may escape from within given the chance. After a few minutes he returned, leaving the gap open for Tommy to pass through.
“Sister Janice will take you to her. Don’t look at other patients. Don’t talk to other patients. If they come to you, ignore them. Don’t take anything they give you”
Perplexed, curious and mostly annoyed by all the delays, Tommy ducked under the orderly’s arm while he held the door open. As soon as he stepped inside the orderly let go, and the door closed behind him with a heavy click.
The sudden brightness hurt his eyes after the unceasing darkness, and Tommy had to squint briefly as his pupils grew accustomed to his surroundings. An ample hall stretched before him, arch windows spanning from floor to ceiling lining the west and north walls. Moth eaten draperies of blue velvet had been drawn back to allow sunlight in, in hopes of insufflating some life into the gelid heart of the asylum.
The room had surely once been a magnificent ballroom, but had now been reduced to the sad, dirty, abandoned alcove where the non-aggressive patients spent most of their waking hours, some engaged in the very few activities offered to them, others dragging their feet and mumbling to themselves like lost souls, their gazes absent and their appearance unkempt. Not one person appeared to have a coherent thought there, and Tommy wondered if it was due to their own ailments, or due to the medicines the nurses forced down their throats to keep them tame and peaceful, albeit stupid.
As Tommy walked past, he couldn't help but notice the way his presence drew attention from them. The patients stopped in their tracks to stare at him as if he were the most marvellous wonder they had ever seen. They pointed at him, uttering incoherences and laughing at jokes no one else heard. Some tried to get close but were forced back with a sharp gesture by the nun accompanying him, whom only now Tommy noticed, carried a mean looking leather strap, hanging side by side with a rosary from her cord belt.
At long last, she came into view. Slouched on a rocking chair facing the windows, a ragged purple cardigan thrown over a white, floor length dress, resembling more a nightgown than any sort of decent clothing. A white linen cap covered her hair, and Tommy noticed that the ties had been removed, as had been from the rest of her garments. She looked thinner, thinner even than she did in France. She gave no indication that she had noticed their presence, her dulled eyes fixated on the gardens outside.
“I have it from here, sister” Tommy dismissed the nun with a wave of his hand, dragging a nearby stool to sit next to the woman.
“I’m sorry Mr. Shelby, but I cannot allow you to be unsupervised with a patient. She seems tame now, but who knows what atrocities a woman of sin like her might commit”
Tommy wanted to snort. She barely looked strong enough to hold herself in the chair, how could she harm anyone?
“She won’t attack me sister” Tommy insisted “Now step back, and I will make sure the asylum is handsomely rewarded for your troubles.”
The nun opened her mouth, ready to argue, but then chose against it. The asylum could do with some extra coin, after all. She straightened up and smoothed her habit, perhaps a way to reinstate her authority that Tommy had so brazenly challenged.
“You have half an hour” She stated at last before walking away towards a group of patients who were seemingly arguing over a doll.
Tommy’s gaze returned to the woman in front of him, who continued to be absent from the world around her, and who gave no sign of life other than the steady rising and falling of her shoulders with each breath. Thomas allowed the pause to linger between them a few seconds longer, but he didn’t want to waste his allotted time. He wouldn’t put it past these people to drag him out like that; the laws of men did not apply in these sorts of places.
He called her name softly, in a nearly soothing whisper. Once, twice, thrice, yet it did not do to her more than the drafts howling through the broken panes or the maniac laughs of the patients around them. He didn’t want to touch her and risk startling her, but he didn’t want to spend his visit staring at her left cheek. He took his last chance, using this time a different name, a name he had not pronounced since 1915.
“Private Anders”
The name stirred something in her mind. Her back straightened a bit and her features quivered in recognition. Slowly, stiffly, she turned towards Tommy, her eyebrows first furrowing in confusion then rising in surprise.
“Sergeant Major?” Her shock could not be disguised, and she readied to rise and salute, but Tommy motioned for her to remain seated.
“At ease, private”
~
Tommy recalled perfectly the first day he saw her. They were stationed near Albert, digging up a new front line as they tried to gain terrain from the Germans. The troops from the British Expeditionary Force and the 179th tunnelling company consisted mostly of coal miners, all turned sappers whose task was to ready up the land for battle. The clay rich soil basically melted between their fingers when it rained, making the digging of trenches and shelters a never-ending battle. The dampness crept up their legs and seeped into their bones, and Tommy had seen one too many soldiers whose feet rotted inside their boots. Even the strongest men, used to work from sun to sun in the depths of the coal mines breathing dust and methane, would sometimes succumb to the elements.
Tommy worked paired with Tom Dunn, a man as thick of back as he was of skull. He could easily lift an adult man and throw him across the field like a sack of potatoes, and legend has it he pulled the coal carts in the mine when the horses couldn’t. If left to it, he could probably dig out the trench with only his hands and his helmet.
He had been the one to introduce Tommy to her. Dunn had hidden that little lunatic in an abandoned cottage, not too far from where the troops were stationed. Somehow, she had obtained a uniform, which she had padded with cotton wool to flatten her curves and broaden her shoulders. Her hair had been cut in a military style, scrapes on her cheeks simulated a shaving rash, and potassium permanganate attempted to sharpen her jaw and cheekbones with dark shadows.
She slept in a damp mattress, with little more than a threadbare blanket to keep her warm; she had no means of acquiring something better, nor could she light a fire in the dusty hearth for fear of being discovered. Dunn had been feeding her with whatever he could spare from his own rations or snatch from others, which meant she had been eating the minimum for survival, since the woods offered nothing but naked branches at that time of year.
Tommy had been left thunderstruck, far too much to react properly. A million questions came to his lips, and a million died there as his mind couldn’t exactly put into words what he wanted to know. His gaze flickered between them both, who looked at him pleadingly like a couple of children asking their parents to stay up late. His first instinct was to call up their superior and hand her over to them, for her own safety, but then he thought about it better. The things that could happen to her if he handed her over to the war office…and that’s it, if they handed her over in the first place, or chose to make justice themselves.
No, for the sake of her safety and his conscience, he would play along with them for now.
“What is your name?” He inquired, a simple question to cut through the gelid silence that had befallen them.
For an answer, she handed Tommy papers and a matching dog tag. Forgeries, most likely, and very good ones, which meant she spent money on those. Paying from her own pocket to go to war
They held each other's gaze for endless seconds. At long last, Tommy offered a handshake.
“Welcome to the 179th tunnelling company, Private John Anders. I’ll look after you”
~
Tommy hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the meeting. The person who sat before him, hunched and dirty and completely lost to the world, bore no resemblance to the fiery, and perhaps a little unhinged, woman that had gone through every length to infiltrate herself in the front line. Years of memory seemed to have been erased from her mind, but she recalled vividly everything she went through in her time in France. She did not know the day and year she lived in but could easily recite the names of every man she met from the 179th, as well as every technique they implemented to dig out the clay.
Tommy was sure that, if he were to put a shovel in her hands, she would unconsciously start digging.
He had partly placated his worries by placing a nurse in the asylum, one handpicked by Polly and paid out of his own pocket, to look after her. But that solution felt like not enough. Not by a mile. What that place did to her, what they were turning her into…Killing her bit by bit, stripping away her sanity to erase from her any memory she held of those weeks in the front. He still recalled the tunnel collapse, when the rain-soaked clay began to crumble over them like cold tar, obscuring their vision and sticking their feet to the ground. How the men dragged out each other, coated from head to toe in the reddish paste. She had tripped, her foot had gotten stuck, he couldn’t tell anymore. All he knew was that she had been left behind, and he had re-entered the tunnel for her. Feeling his way through the darkness, keeping an eye on the entrance, calling her name out; her fake name, for even in the face of danger he had the mental fortitude to remember the importance of her cover up. How she dropped her own facade, her fearful voice calling him as she stretched her arm towards him.
Tommy, Tommy, Tommy
“Tommy!” Billowed an angered female voice, dragging his thoughts back to the present time.
Tommy squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, attempting to dissipate the fogs of the past that laid over them. Because he was not in the tunnels, nor in the Western front. He was sitting in his office, behind his desk, nursing a whiskey in his hands and with Polly sitting across him, equally angered and perplexed at her nephew’s inattention.
“You know I don’t appreciate my words being wasted”. It sounded like a threat, but half of the things Polly said usually did “If you had no interest in this briefing, you could have rescheduled our meeting”.
“You hate your time being wasted” Tommy pointed out.
“Which is exactly what you’re doing now” She remarked.
Silence lingered in the office while Polly lit a new cigarette and Tommy downed his drink, which had already begun to warm in his hands. He stood to pour another, which he finished almost immediately.
“So” Polly began, exhaling the smoke in an elegant blow “Will you tell me what’s on your mind?” As usual, Polly could see through him as easily as one would do through a clean glass. It unnerved him sometimes, to be laid open so vulnerably under her watchful gaze.
“It’s nothing” Tommy sat before the fire; hands laced behind his head in an attempt to seem relaxed.
“There’s been many things on your mind, Tommy, and nothing has never been one of them”. Polly’s slender fingers ran across the glass bottles on the bar cart before settling on gin, pouring herself a more than generous serving.
“You’re thinking of her”.
Tommy immediately thought of denying it, but what was the point? When Polly knew, no one could tell her otherwise. And as much as he hated others meddling in his business, the words came tumbling before he could hold them back.
“I’m just worried. She’s not the same she used to be. I don’t know what they do to her in that place, but she’s changed. Those medicines they give her, and who knows what else they’ve done. You know the treatments” He shook his head, as if to dismiss everything he said “Just worried”
“It’s been many years since you last saw her. Everyone changed after the war. God knows you did”.
“This is not the same. They’re killing her there” Tommy stared up at the ceiling, as if hoping to find a solution to his problems in the plaster. Polly only watched him, pondering over her next words carefully. She only hoped she would not regret whatever her nephew chose to do next.
“If her wellbeing worries you so, you have to do the right thing”
He frowned, turning to look at her with confusion clear in his eyes. Polly sipped the gin, swirling it around her mouth as she gave it a last thought. This was one of the far and few times in which Tommy proved he had a heart, and that softened her as well.
“If you are worried, you act. If they’re killing her in there, you get her out”
~
The sun had finally shone upon the soldiers after nearly a week of bad weather, when rain and fog had turned the living conditions in the trenches into nearly inhumane. The soldiers were happy, for they would no longer shiver until their bones ached, and they would at last be able to put their clothes and themselves to dry. The tunnellers were less than pleased, for the sun had dried the clay into a solid wall, forcing them to exhaust their muscles to dig out chunks the size of their heads while the sweat ran down their temples and backs. Their comrades kept them supplied with water, but it felt like pouring water on a bottomless bucket.
Tommy worked side by side with her. Him. Her. Her identity still got tied in his mind, and he had to think through every word addressed in her direction for fear of blowing her cover. He watched her out of the corner of the eye as she swung the pickaxe with a strength and determination he never expected to see in a woman. Despite her resilience, Tommy worried about her, and kept a watchful gaze for any sign of exhaustion. She could not afford to be taken ill or injured, for a trip to the medical tent would be enough to unravel all her carefully crafted lies. He had to take care of her.
They both worked in the very end of the trench, and the sounds around them would conceal any hushed conversation. Tommy’s curiosity was stronger than his willpower
“Why?”
She didn’t react at first, and Tommy thought she either didn’t listen to him, or chose to ignore him, both of which were valid. But before he could ask again, she whispered back, keeping her manly tone
“Why what?”
“Why come here? What sane person would come here, on her own free will, to be forced into coldness and starvation? Risk your life, and for what purpose? Couldn’t find good places to dig back in England?”
She snorted, the sound quite lighter than any man’s laugh, so she concealed it by clearing her throat
“I wanted to serve my country, same as you. Is there any sin on that?”
“Is that what you tell yourself at night to sleep?”
She stopped digging for a moment, leaving the pickaxe embedded in the clay. She sat in the upturned bucket they used as stool, wiping the sweat from her brow with her sleeve. She couldn’t work shirtless, and their uniforms had been made to shield from the cold only. Tommy offered her water; she drank a sip and poured the rest on her head. He noticed her hair had grown again, and curled behind her ears. He made a mental note to give her a trim after nightfall.
“I just wanted to see what it was like. What it really was. They don’t tell us the truth back home. The newspapers make it sound as if the front is almost peaceful and the men are just laying back eating turkey while the Germans fall a hundred a day. I wanted the truth, and I want to write about it. Make a book of all the lies they fed us home.”
Her reasoning didn’t sit well with him. All that effort, that trouble, that risk, just to figure out if war was as bad as she thought? Mad, mad in the head this one.
“And what does your family think you’re doing away from home?”
She scratched her chin, in the same way Tommy did when he got a shaving rash from his blunt razors. She had picked up male mannerisms quite fast, particularly his own
“Not much family left to care what I do or stop doing. I said I’d come to France to volunteer as a nurse, but they most likely think I came as a camp follower. If they knew what I’m up to, they would have me committed to the closest madhouse”
“The madhouse is where you belong” Tommy replied, albeit jokingly, as he stopped his work to pull out a cigarette from his pocket. But he was interrupted by a ball of clay being tossed at his face with masterful precision, dampened for maximum effect.
“Shut up, Sergeant Major”
~
Blue skies and a pleasant breeze welcomed them at the gates of Arrow House. Tommy chose to drive this time, taking the advice from the doctor who would oversee her care, who suggested she be exposed to the least amount of people possible during the first days as she adjusted to life outside. Only Tommy, Frances and the nurse who would be her primary caretaker.
She stared at the world around her with such wonder, like a blind whose sight had been restored. Every tree, every bird, the very landscape that surrounded his manor brought such wonder onto her face, like a child with a Christmas tree. Her happiness almost managed to convince him that this was, in fact, a good idea.
When Polly told him to get her out, he knew she meant to put her in a home of her own, with a caretaker, and allow her to have a life of her own. And Tommy considered the idea, for a while. To place her in a nice neighbourhood, in a house with a garden and a balcony where she could enjoy the sun, with a nurse and maids and a car. But it didn’t sit right with him. She had been alone ever since they took her. Imprisoned until the war ended, and then released only to be taken to the madhouse at first chance. Not one familiar face around her for nearly a decade. No, Tommy wouldn’t take her out of a cage just to put her back in a smaller, prettier one. She needed someone to protect her. And for better or worse, that one could only be Tommy.
When the car came to a halt, she was the first one out, gaping at the imponent state which Tommy owned.
“Is this where you live, Sergeant Major?” The wonder was palpable in her voice. But the only thing Tommy noticed was that after everything she still couldn’t find it in her to call him by his name.
“2000 acres of land, of which 12 are just garden, and 750 acres of farming land”
She cocked an eyebrow, and in the amused twinkle of her eyes Tommy saw a glimpse of the one she used to be.
“Are you a farmer now, sir?” She disguised her laugh behind the handkerchief she insisted on carrying, looking down like a bashful schoolgirl.
Tommy pulled out a cigarette; he felt the corner of his lips pulled into the shadow of a smile, pleased to see her spirits lifted.
“My business is more focused on progress and modernity, but I wouldn’t reject the idea. Perhaps one day it’ll come in hand to have crops and cows”
“That would be the bloody day” She didn’t even try to hide her laughter this time “Our mighty Sergeant Major, dressed in overalls and with mud up to his knees shovelling cow shit”
“I find myself more interested in horse shit these days. Come on, I’ll show you around”
Tommy gave her a complete tour of the house and adjacent grounds, both to show her everything that would be at her complete disposal, and also as a way to show off how far he had come since they were both in the trenches, hunched over a meagre fire lit inside an empty can and sharing a homemade cigarette made from tobacco leftovers. Her eyes were wide with wonder, her fingers running over tapestries, leathers and carved wood with childlike wonder
He saved her room for last. A wide bedroom at the very back of the house, situated in a corner with plenty of windows. It had a view of the back of the state, so she could enjoy the gardens, the horses and the surrounding woods. In the corner with the most sunlight Tommy had placed a writing desk, supplied with paper, pens, ink and a brand new typewriter. Amidst everything sat a bunch of old and worn pages, all of different sizes and materials, kept together nicely with leather cord. She picked it up gingerly, running her thumb over the first page. Even though the paper was stained and dusty, the words could be read as easily as the first day she wrote them.
Tears flooded her eyes, and she hugged the improvised diary to her chest like it was a most prized possession. And perhaps it was. She turned towards Tommy, a mixture of bewilderment and eternal gratitude plastered on her features
“Where did you get it? I thought they would have had it destroyed when they locked me up”
Tommy only smirked, pulling out a cigarette from the golden case he carried “Remember what I told you? Always make sure someone owes you something”
That gesture, so small yet so meaningful, shifted something inside her. Her eyes brimmed with tears she attempted to fight, but they won in the end. She practically jumped into Tommy’s arms, hugging him with the eagerness of a person who has been denied a caring touch for far too long.
“How will I ever be able to thank you enough, Sergeant Major?”
His free arm circled her frame, returning the gesture
“You can start by calling me Tommy”
~
Worry crept up Tommy’s spine as the higher ups did their rounds to inspect the work on the freshly dug trenches. It had been three days since she last showed up, and he would soon run out of lies to cover up for “Private Anders’” absence.
As much as she tried to deny it, finally the harsh conditions had caught up to her. Her health had gone down a slippery slope with the arrival of winter. First it had been just a fretless dry cough, easily softened with pine tea. But then came the bone pains, the headaches, the constant fatigue. The dampness of her safe haven had seeped into her bones and caused some sort of rheumatism. Tommy noticed the swelling of her hands as they struggled to grip the pickaxe. Her hair began to fall out in clumps.
The shivers and the fever had finally knocked her off her feet. She had been unable to leave her cottage, which in turn worsened her condition even further. Tommy had tried to bring her something more substantial to eat, but she seemed unable to eat more than a few bites of stale bread dipped in some coffee the Americans had given them. Dry, suffocating coughs racked her body until she had to gasp for air, her teeth and lips speckled with blood.
“This is the end line” She had mumbled weakly during the third night, while Tommy tried to desperately convince her to light a fire to warm and dry the place
“No. You are not going to die. I won’t allow it. I told you I’d take care of you” He stated firmly, sitting on the floor by her side with her hand in his, his other one cupping her feverish cheek. He had been in a similar spot, not too long ago. Watching life fade away from a young woman’s eyes. He refused to let her die, not like that, not there where he would have to dump her body in the river.
“I am not going to die” She stated with a conviction her current condition didn’t match “But to survive, I have to turn myself in”
The idea of handing her over to the war office filled Tommy with panic
“No, no you cannot do that. Do you have any idea what they could do to you? Your best prospect would be to be thrown in jail, to be given 10 years for impersonating a soldier. And that’s if the higher ups are feeling compassionate” He shuddered at thinking what those wolves would do to her “Listen, I get leave tomorrow night. I’ll go to the nearest town, get some medicine, maybe I can pawn some things and get you a new blanket. You-”
“No” With great effort, she propped herself up in one elbow. Tommy couldn’t help but notice the strands of hair left in the pillow “I’ve implicated you long enough. The excuses and lies you have made for me are enough to have you dishonourably discharged and tried. You have done everything you could for me, and for that I am forever indebted to you, Sergeant Major. This next chapter in my life, I have to write it alone”
She sounded dejected and disappointed, as if she had failed some unwritten expectation of her adventure. But Tommy thought quite the opposite. He only felt admiration for the things she had put herself through in order to tell her story. He still thought she was mad in the head, but in a completely different way
“Will you mention my name when you write your book?” He asked jokingly, helping her lay back down slowly, pulling the ragged blanket up to her chin
“Only if you want to be jailed next to me for helping an intruder” She laughed, but the sound was cut short by another fit of coughing “I’ll dedicate it to you, Sergeant Major. Everything I write and do will be because of you”
~
Tommy awoke with a startle. His eyes were wide open, darting around the room as he tried to locate the source of the disturbance. Everything seemed to be calm in his room. And then it happened again. A dry thud in the wall, followed by a muffled scream.
In a heartbeat he was out of bed, gun in hand. He followed the noises, which seemed to grow louder the closer he got to her bedroom. The door was ajar, allowing a sliver of moonlight to project in the floor, in which Tommy could see two shadows moving.
He stormed inside, gun ready to fire. But he didn’t find an intruder, no. Just her, on her knees, banging her fists against the wall as she screamed. Her nurse stood by her side, amidst a disaster of clothes and books and other objects, unsuccessfully trying to coax her back to bed
“Miss, please. The hour is quite late. You need sleep”
“No, no. The walls are coming down. We have to get out, the roof’s collapsing!” She yelled desperately, clawing at the wall trying to dig herself out of some dark place that only existed in her head. He saw her nails tear the wallpaper with ferocity. And then he noticed the nurse unlocking a cabinet and pulling out a syringe
“No” He said almost immediately as he put a firm hand on the nurse’s arm “Go to bed. I have this”
“But Mr. Shelby!”
“I said go. Leave me with her”
The nurse doubted, holding his gaze, but chose to exit the room, closing the door behind her.
Tommy walked towards her slowly, afraid he would startle her. He gingerly touched her arm, but his presence went as unnoticed as a speck of dust. He called out her name, again and again, without success. The mud had seeped deep in her brain, as it had done his, and blocked her senses from the outside world. In order to get through, Tommy had to get into the mud with her
He stood tall, in martial position, hands behind his back
“Private Anders!”
Quick like a lightning bolt, she stood up and saluted in a firm position. Tears streaked her face and her entire body quivered like an autumn leaf
“Sergeant Major sir!”
“At ease, private. You are relieved of your duties. Time to go back home”
Like the lifting of a spell, her eyes glossed over as she blinked slowly, looking around her from the bed, to the things she had thrown around in haste, and finally towards Tommy. Her lower lip quivered
“What is happening to me?”
Her knees faltered. Tommy lunged forward before she could hit herself, coming down to the floor with her held in his arms. She burrowed herself in his chest, her fingers clinging to his shirt as she wept, her body racked by sobs. Tommy shushed her quietly, his fingers carding through her hair
“Don’t cry. I’ll take care of you”
Unchained Melody (Masterlist)
Summary: It had been one year, seven months and fifteen days since you had left Arrow House, since you had left your husband and four month old son behind. Both you and Tommy were blissfully married in the joys of parenthood until a heavy cloud of hopelessness and withdrawal settled above you, pulling you under a suffocating blanket of depression and loneliness until you ran, fleeing from it all. A week turned into a month and then a year, each day making it harder for you to go back to the two people in your life you loved more than anything the world possessed. That was until one spring day at the local market you'd visit every Sunday to get a glimpse of your son when your past collided with you and your husband's unexpected presence forced you back to Arrow house, back into a home you no longer recognised, and a governess hired by Tommy hell-bent on you not getting in the way of her desire to be the lady of the house and replacing you as the new, Mrs Shelby.
Warnings: Language, angst, post-partum depression, fluff, mutual longing, smut
Sneak Peak
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six (completed series)
Gif credit: The incredibly talented and wonderful Ria @alicent-targaryen. Go check out her gorgeous creations. Our fics wouldn't be the same without her talent!
Love Will Take You There
Masterlist
Prologue: You grew up with a gift that anyone would envy: time travel. Some people would travel to the future to fix their mistakes, others would travel to the past to hold on to it, but that wasn't you. You loved reading biographies about tragedies in a family or situation to change their destinies, so when you read the story of the Shelby family one day you felt compassion for those people and decided to travel back in time to help them so that their story wouldn't end so horribly. What was a simple plan becomes complicated when you begin to fall in love with Thomas Shelby, changing the course of your decisions.
Warnings/Info: Mention of weapons, it's adapted to the series but I changed several things, Peaky Blinders: Season One and Two, SMUT | 18+ ONLY (MINORS DNI).
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Last Chapter
The Night We Met
Written for @runnning-outof-time lovely challenge, based on The Night We Met by Lord Huron.
This is a part 2 to my fic February 12th which can be found here. It can also be read independently.
After his younger sister dies at the hands of Billy Kimber, Tommy wishes he could go back to the night they met.
‘’She was beautiful, your sister- she’ll be sorely missed’’ a local woman approached Tommy, her hand falling to his back in condolence. The local people were afraid of the blinders, but they would come out for you. After all you might have been the sister of heathens but that did not mean you weren’t kind. You’d babysit the local kids, you’d take round bread- and you’d show up at church even though you didn’t believe. Appearances were everything, Aunt Pol had taught you that.
Tommy was exhausted-and he carried the emotions of those around him heavy on his chest. Your death was his fault, even secondhandedly, even though Kimber had fired the bullet- it was his debt. They blamed him. He could tell from the way that Polly slammed his plate down a little harder in front of him. The way that John wouldn’t take direction anymore. He could see it in Ada’s eyes as she sat tearfully trying to nurse Karl. The collapse in Arthur’s knees as he drank one too many. Just like the war, they’d never come back from this the same.
It was Tommy who now, with your funeral smoke still latched onto his shirt found himself sat in your bedroom. It felt like you’d only been there a minute ago, in a way you had. ‘’I remember the first night I met you’’ he whispered, his finger trailing across the dust of the shelf to find a photo of you. A family photo, you rested in his arms- your favourite place to sleep.
He did remember that night clearly. The walk home from the stables on a crisp cold December night. Frost on his boots that glistened against the stones of Watery Lane. Back then he was a simple 19 year old stable-hand, his only ambition to own his own yard. ‘’She had a girl’’ Polly had whispered, her hand caressing eighteen month old Michael’s hair as he slept on her lap on the sofa. Ah yes, his mother was due today. Babies seemed to be born in abundance as of late in Watery Lane.
‘’Do we have a name?’’ Tommy had responded, shaking the snow off his hat as he embraced the warmth. ‘’Not yet, your mums been too tired to decide, and your dad hasn’t been home’’ Polly sighed, moving to make Micheal more comfortable. ‘’The baby is in your room- to let your mum rest’’
You laid silent in your cot. Hours old and already accustomed to the loud noises of living within the den. Michael’s chubby hands had already examined you, and your older sister had already pushed her dolls brush through your slight curls. John, at seventeen had given you a disinterested glance and Arthur had wriggled you over his shoulder. The only one left to meet you was Tommy.
‘’Hello, you’’ he had whispered, leaning over to get a glimpse at you. Your brown eyes peering back at his blue inquisitively. You were trying to make out this face you had not seen before. ‘’Sorry, I’m the last one to meet you’’ Tommy had lifted you, placing you into his arms as you let out a small cry. He was cold. ‘’Oh, I’m sorry’’ Tommy had whispered, placing his finger in your mouth as you suckled softly. There was nineteen years between you, and Tommy had become an older brother before but this time was different- this time he felt responsible.
‘’She’s a beauty’’ Arthur Snr had leaned against the door frame. His eyes glassed from the beer and his loudness causing you to lean into your brothers arms. ‘’She’s quiet’’ Tommy spoke softly, looking down at you. ‘’Wait til she gets older son, then like most of the women in this family- she’ll never shut up’’.
Who would you become? Tommy wondered. Where would you fit in the world that couldn’t secure its safety for even someone as small as you?. It was no secret that your father had other women he pursued, it was also no secret that your mothers schizophrenia was worsening by the weeks. Tommy knew that if the world were to crumble around you, someone had to protect you- and that someone would be him.
‘’I can move her, if she’s bothering you-‘’ Polly had asked, coming to the door to find Tommy sat by your crib, a book in hand. ‘’I was just reading to her, Pol’’ Tommy whispered, you weren’t asleep but you were enjoying the soft tones of his voice. ‘’Don’t you think Alice in Wonderland is a bit much for a 12 hour old? Or is it more for you than her’’ Polly asked, amused as he lifted the book. ‘’Reading to her distracts me, helps me forget…about Greta’’ Tommy sighed, taking a cigarette out his pocket and lighting it. He needed your comfort as much as you did his. It was the first time his mind had been given a moments rest in weeks, he’d never forget the night you met.
And then I can tell myself
What the hell I'm supposed to do
And then I can tell myself
Not to ride along with you
‘’He won’t answer to me, to fucking curly, anyone Tom’’ Charlie had exasperated as the black horse screeched in the stable- handing the reign to Tommy who rested his hand down its side. ‘’You’re missing her, aren’t you boy?’’ Tommy kissed the horses side. ‘’I get you- I want to kick this whole fucking stable down too, but that’s not gonna bring her back’’
‘’You didn’t have to react like that’’ you had sighed, hand caressing your horse as you heard the footsteps enter the stable. You knew they were Tommy’s. You’d been caught kissing Harrison Lee down the canal and John had found out through Finn. The gossip had spread like wildfire and before you knew it you’d been summoned to the office. Accusations running wild about your purity and John had already headed down to the camp to threaten Harrison. It was a ridiculous response to a childish game of kiss chase. After all, you were fifteen- nothing had been on your mind except a swig of cherry wine and a kiss against an oak tree. It was a lot less than they had been doing at your age.
‘’I know’’ Tommy had responded, watching as your mouth closed- it was ready to protest, you were always ready to protest lately. ‘’Good, I’m glad you realise you behaved irrationally’’ You sighed, not taking the eyes off of your horse. Tommy knew that it had been an inflammatory response, but it had only been three weeks since he’d found out Ada was pregnant. He couldn’t bear to think of you ending up in the same situation.
‘’Is it wrong to want you to be my bonnet wearing little sister for a little bit longer, eh?’’ Tommy sighed, sitting against a hay bale, and lighting a cigarette. ‘’I hated that bonnet’’ You groaned, as he raised his eyebrows at you. ‘’I thought it looked cute’’ Tommy smiled, watching as your face wrinkled in response. ‘’Go easy on us too, we leave for war and you and Ada, you’re these little angels plaiting each others hair, playing with dolls- we come back and she’s pregnant and you’re out snogging lads on the lane’’ Tommy spoke softly, your heart softening slightly. He had missed so much, you both had. ‘’It wasn’t a snog Tom, more of a passionate peck’’ you teased, watching as his face grimaced as he dropped his cigarette and stamped on it. ‘’Alright, don’t make me bring up lunch’’ he groaned, as you grinned before turning serious. ‘’Tom, do you think Ada is alright?’’ you asked, as he closed his eyes for a moment. ‘’I’ll get Ada back’’
‘’I was going to go for a ride’’ you grabbed the reigns of your horse. ‘’Mind if I ride along with you?’’ Tommy asked. It would be the last time you rode together. He would never get used to not riding alongside you. God, he wanted to go back to the night you first met.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do
Haunted by the ghost of you
Oh, take me back to the night we met
‘’I think we should do something to celebrate’’ Polly spoke softly, looking over at Finn who was eagerly looking for their approval. ‘’Finn wants to bake a cake’’ . ‘’Finn, you have to fucking stop this now- she’s dead, Finn’’ John shouted, shoving his newspaper onto the table.
‘’John you’re hurting- we all are’’ Polly interjected, as Tommy dropped his fork. ‘’No, you’re right- we should do something to celebrate, she originally wanted a party at the Garrison to celebrate turning sixteen- so that’s what we’ll do-‘’ Tommy sighed, as Finn grinned in agreement.
‘’This feels wrong’’ Ada spoke tearfully watching as your friends all gathered in the Garrison. They had grown up so much in the last year- one day they’d grow up for good, get married, have children- all the things that you wouldn’t. ‘’I just want my annoying sister here’’ Ada tearfully spat, as Tommy reached for her hand.
It was good to laugh. They hadn’t for a while. It was good to hear music, your favourites playing on the gramophone. The same music they’d tell you to turn down, now louder than ever. Tommy’s eyes focused on his whiskey glass, spinning the ice around in thought. As he looked up, he was sure he caught glimpse of your red dress entering the bathroom.
‘’Button’’ Tommy had shouted- your nickname falling effortlessly from his lips. Entering the bathroom in instinct. His own belief desperate that somehow you’d be standing there. ‘’It’s just me, Mr Shelby’’ Anna, your school friend looked up from the basin confused. It wasn’t the first time Tommy had been haunted by your ghost.
He didn’t believe in spirits and spells, but he had seen you. He was sure of it. He had heard your footsteps in the next room as he tried to sleep. Seen your face in the reflection of his office doors. Watched as Karl followed nothing around the den but giggled in response.
‘’Sixteen eh?’’ Tommy knelt at your grave, the red roses that he placed in the pot that was shiny and gold. His hands reaching to behind the pot where a book lay drying in the sun from the rain. Alice in Wonderland, and as Tommy sat down by your grave as he did your crib, he found himself gently reading from beginning again. How he wished it was the night you met.
When the night was full of terrors
And your eyes were filled with tears
When you had not touched me yet
Oh, take me back to the night we met
‘’I forbid you from going-‘’ You had crossed your arms in defiance as you stood on the platform. Eleven years old, and you’d already said goodbye to Arthur and John. It was Tommy’s turn today. ‘’You need to help Pol and Ada take care of Finn’’ Tommy had sighed, throwing his cigarette to the ground and kneeling to your level. ‘’If you don’t come back-‘’ you had muttered, holding Finn’s hand tight. ‘’Who said anything about not coming back?’’ Tommy nodded, and lifted your chin.
‘’You listen here, eh, we are a family, whether we are in the same house or a million miles apart, anyways I have to come back because whose going to run the fucking office eh?’’ Tommy smiled as he swallowed a sob. He was scared, but more scared of never seeing any of you again.
‘’I was making sure Arthur was alright’’ you whispered, sat on the floor next to Arthur who was asleep on the sofa- Tommy interrupting the silence. ‘’He’s just drunk, Button’’ Tommy had sighed, watching as you relit the candle which had gone out. ‘’He’s always drunk’’ you rolled your eyes, as Tommy handed you a blanket out of the basket. ‘’Well, it helps with the night terrors’’ Tommy responded, sitting by the fire.
‘’He’s not the only one who gets night terrors’’ you swallowed a sob, as your brother looked at your dark eyes turning glassed. ‘’Why didn’t you tell us about them, if you’re having nightmares?’’ Tommy asked, a softness returning to him he hadn’t been able to show until yet. ‘’Because, I don’t matter- I didn’t fight at war, I have nothing to be afraid of’’ you whispered, watching as Arthur turned in his sleep. ‘’Of course you matter, eh’’ Tommy placed his hand out to yours and you flinched.
‘’I can’t touch you yet Tommy, if I do, I’m afraid you’ll disappear’’
I had all and then most of you
Some and now none of you
Take me back to the night we met
The sound of silence as Tommy held the gun to his head. Taking a deep breath as he processed his thoughts. His silence interrupted, by the sound of you in the distance. ‘’Tommy! Tommy!’’ you shouted, as he looked confused before exiting the vardo- him tumbling down the hill towards you as you clasped in his arms.
‘’Did Polly send you?’’ Tommy exasperated, his arms clasping around seven year old you as tightly as possible. In his last moments, his mind had gone to you. If there was life after this Earth, it was you he wanted to see first. Your curls falling down your back and the bonnet secured on your head. ‘’You’re little’’ Tommy looked up, him examining your face as you sweetly smiled before fading in his arms.
‘’That’s how you imagine me, when you think of me’’ you spoke, your now adult frame standing on top of the hill. ‘’Button?’’ Tommy questioned, as you nodded with a grin. ‘’29 this year, Tom, can you believe it?’’ you responded, as he looked at you with sadness. ‘’I’d have given anything to have seen it’’ Tommy sighed as you sat next to him. ‘’I see a lot of you in my children, in Charles and Ruby’’
‘’So why are you going to leave them?’’ you asked, as Tommy sighed. ‘’Because I’m sick, Button’’. ‘’You’re not sick, Tom, do us a favour and relight the fire? You’ll see then that you’re not sick’’
‘’See, I told you!’’ you spoke brightly, watching as he examined the newspaper. ‘’By the way, Tom, I think I’m a little old to be going by Button now, I think it’s time I start going by my real name, Alice, since you named me’’ you whispered, fading as Tommy turned around.
His eyes sore from the smoke as he headed up the hill and faced his burning vardo. Everything burning, apart from underneath lay a pristine copy of Alice in Wonderland. He knew that would be the most important night, the night you met.
MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
PEAKY BLINDERS
My Hollywood Darling- Tommy visits Ruby at her first ever movie premiere.
All Too Well- Tommy’s daughter experiences her first heartbreak, in the person she least expected, Alfie Solomon’s.
The Night Before PT 2- It’s the day of Tommy’s daughters wedding and its an adjustment for everyone.
The Western- After months of not speaking, Tommy’s daughter needs her father when she unknowingly falls into danger.
Under The Waves- When Tommy’s wife dies saving their child, their daughter is haunted by being the one who lived.
The Green Green Grass Of Home- John, after surviving the attack from the mafia moves to the country with Esme and the children, leaving the Peaky Blinders behind.
The Littlest Of Things- When Tommy’s daughter returns from New York, she goes through changes of her own.
The Bitterest Pill- Although now with Grace, Tommy can’t stop thinking about someone else.
Always Mine- After a one night stand, Tommy longs to have a relationship with the child he lost.
February 12th- The Shelby siblings grieve the death of their sister a year later.
The night we met- part 2 of February 12th
Mother of mine- A flashback to the Shelby’s mother, from her wedding to her death and time with her children.
The night before- It’s the night before Tommy’s daughters wedding and everyone is anxious.
Heart-Broken- The Shelby’s sister experiences her first heartbreak
Retributions- On Lizzie’s birthday, the night ends in tragedy for the youngest Shelby sister.
War- The youngest Shelby sister is enlisted to war.
Home Again- After going missing as a small child, the youngest Shelby comes home.
Little Things- Tommy’s daughter is moving away, and he looks back at his life with her.
Secrets (Part 1)- Ruby and Charlie Shelby have learnt to keep their secrets from everyone- especially their father.
Secrets (Part 2)- Continued
Secrets (Part 3)- Continued
Secrets (Part 4)- Finale
Keep Us Safe Masterlist
Tommy x wife reader
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)
Summary: Family history repeats itself when your daughter is taken by parish authorities. This time Tommy won't let them get away with it.
Moodboard credit: the lovely @midnightswithdearkatytspb
Will you help me?
A/N: Hey everyone! I wanted to start writing for Peaky Blinders, so here’s the first taste of it. It’s only the prologue, but the chapters will follow soon. Let me know what you think!
Summary: The war changed everything between Tommy and Y/N and there’s a lot they don’t know about each other nowadays. Polly’s insistence and Tommy’s ‘business’ reveal things they would both rather keep locked away. Will she help him? And will he help her?
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x fem!reader
Prologue
A sigh leaves Y/N’s lips as she hears the first brawling men come into The Garrison. She knows more will be arriving soon and she usually makes sure she’s gone by the time most of them arrive, but today she has work to catch up on, so she’ll be stuck here for a bit longer. After a while she throws her pen down in frustration; all the noise is making it impossible for her to focus. It’s actually somewhat of a relief when the door opens, and someone stumbles into the room.
Keep reading
In The Bleak Midwinter
Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 & Part 13
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Mentions of death
Gif Credit: @peakymurphy & @peakyblinders1919 Thank you for letting me use your beautiful gifs!
Tag: If you want to be tagged let me know.
My Intent: Alright, I’m attempting to purge this from my soul. So this is sort of a hybrid. It’s first person, because I love how that makes it feel, but you are also a character, with a name and backstory. So hopefully you don’t hate it.
Also, it should be noted I love Grace and Tommy. So Grace will be held in high regard in this story. This story takes place in season 3, I think. And this is my first Peaky Blinders story, so go easy on me. I’m full newb.
My other stories are not forgotten, but this idea gave me no peace.
As the car takes the long drive up to the manor, you can hardly believe your eyes.
It’s far bigger than anything you’ve seen in a long time, but you expect nothing less for Mr. Thomas Shelby.
The manor is a rich red color that reminds you of the clay that sticks to your boots after a heavy rain has washed away the top soil.
The windows stare back you like blinking eyes - tall and plentiful, like gatekeepers for the secrets inside.
With a grand stone archway entrance that announces you’ve arrived.
It’s more than you ever hoped to offer Finn, compared to that tiny shoebox room you were squeezed in before in Small Heath.
It’s quiet out here in the country too. No drunken men hollering in the streets, fornicating and fighting before your son’s eyes at every turn.
The idea of working for Thomas Shelby is an intimidating one, as it should be, but it’s a chance for Finn. A chance for something more, so you had to take it.
Finn gawks in wonder as the car pulls up the drive.
His jaw slack, eyes wide, and you have to tell him more than once to return to his seat while the car is still moving, as he fidgets about the vehicle in amazement at what’s before him.
You catch the smile that edges at Polly’s face as she watches your son. And you get the sense you or Finn remind her of someone, someone she lost or maybe a former version of herself, and that’s why she’s extended this offer so graciously to you.
“Who’s this? Tommy said no more visitors.” A young woman asks as Polly leads you and Finn in through the entrance, ceiling so tall you have to crane your neck back to see the top.
With dark curly hair swaying around her shoulders, deep features, and fire in her eyes, surely, she’s a Shelby.
And judging by the way she looks only a few years older than you, you guess she’s Thomas’s sister, Ada.
You’ve heard of her too, you’ve heard of them all, but who hasn’t in these parts.
“I brought her here to help with Charlie, Ada. Tommy is going to need a hand.” Polly says with ease, as if she’s got it all already figured out.
A beautiful woman for her age. With dark curly locks and skin pale like the full moon. There’s something bewitching about Polly’s eyes and the curl of her mouth that makes you think she knows everything, capable of anything, and probably both.
But the weary look Ada sends her way makes you feel less confident about the whole arrangement. Like maybe things aren’t as settled as Polly made them seem.
Turning your way, Ada looks you over.
“And the boy?” She inquires with a tilt of her head, glancing at your son who stands nervously at your side, trying to look taller than his tender years.
“Her son.” Polly answers before you can.
That answer seems to soften Ada a bit. Her eyes easing off their edge as a small almost indiscernible smile curls at the corner of her mouth.
“A widow, good.” She says, mostly to herself.
And the way she eyes you, as you stand silently hoping to be approved, you can see the idea of your loss eases something inside her.
“Very well, Tommy’s in the parlor.” You hear her say, as you turn back to Finn with the feel of his tug on the length of your coat.
Your eyes meet your boy’s baby blues as he gazes up at you as if he’s torn between sheer excitement and intimation being surrounded by all this.
“What’s a widow, mum?” His young voice asks you as he stays close around your legs.
Finn’s never seen a place like this and certainly never stepped foot inside one.
You want things for your boy, good things, better than you have, but you’ve only ever been able to scrape by.
But this is your chance to change all that, your chance to give him what you never could before.
“Your mum apparently.” You say with a small laugh, smiling down at him with reassurance as you pinch playfully at the apple of his cheek.
“This way,” You hear Polly say as you glance back up with the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floors.
Taking Finn’s hand as your lead through the house. Deep mahogany walls greet you at every turn, ornately carved and shining.
Beautiful things fill every space your eyes can reach. Things you’ve only seen in the pictures and could never imagine lying before you in full color.
Finn’s hand reaches out in curiosity before you quickly slap it away.
“Touch nothing.” You scold him gently as fear speeds up your heart. This place like one giant bomb, set anything off and this opportunity could blow up around you.
Entering the parlor, you take in the sight of the walls filled with books as you follow Polly near his desk.
Mr. Shelby’s seated behind it, only glancing up as you approach.
He eyes you, your eyes catching as you feel Finn dart behind your coat. You don’t look away, don’t blink, you’re not even sure you breathe, it feels like a test and you’ll be damned if you fail it.
Polly starts in, pulling his attention as you suck in a breath you didn’t know you were holding.
He’s not as tall as you expected, Mr. Shelby. The myth larger than the man, but he has an energy about him. Bigger than life. Like a vortex, pulling all the energy from the room and pointing it squarely upon him.
It’s in that moment you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself into. Comin’ into the home of a man who’s just lost his wife, offerin’ to help with his now motherless child, the situation couldn’t be more bleak.
You try and smooth down Finn’s hair, drawing him out from behind you as Polly tries to seal the deal. Their words filling your ears as you turn back.
“Fuckin hell Pol, he has one. Just cause she’s- doesn’t mean-“ Mr. Shelby stumbles over his own words and you can see he’s growing agitated.
“I know, Tommy, I know, but you need help. Children require a lot of time. You have the business to think about and she needs a job. It solves both your problems.” Polly says diplomatically, and you get the sense she probably knows how to talk to him better than anyone.
“She looks weak, Pol. Skin and bone the best you can find.” He insults, his eyes surveying you briefly like an item he’s considering for purchase, but never meets your eyes.
It’s true, you could use a few pounds, but you’ve barely eaten. What little you have mostly goes to Finn.
You take just enough to get by, keep going. You don’t have the luxuries of more, but circumstance hasn’t dampened your spirit.
If anything, it’s made you more strong willed, you have no doubts what you’re fighting for.
“That may be, but I’m strong and good with children.” You speak up suddenly before Polly gets a chance and all eyes turn on you instantly.
Polly looks surprised, but Mr. Shelby, his gaze is to vacant to warrant anything worth counting.
“We’ll see about that.” He answers before rising from his chair and calling for the help.
“Mary!” An old woman appears in the doorway behind you before Mr. Shelby summons her to retrieve his son.
When she returns with the boy, Mr. Shelby is quick to take him. Holding him close as he walks over to you, his gaze cautious as he stands before you.
The boy is precious to say the least. With big round cheeks, sky blue eyes, and straight rust colored hair.
He looks like his father, but the color reminds you of Finn’s when he was just a baby.
“Hi Charlie, I’m miss Fiona.” You tell him softly, smiling over at him as your fingertips dance along his hair, the apples of his cheeks, settling on his plump little hand as he wraps it around your finger.
You catch the little boy’s eyes on Finn with curiosity.
“This my son, Finn. He’s just a little older than you.” You tell him, explaining matters most would think are too advanced for a child of his age, but you always felt children understood far more than we gave them credit for.
Charlie glances back up at you and you greet him with a smile as you reach for him, praying he’ll trust you enough to let you hold him.
You let out a quiet sigh of relief when Charlie reaches for you in return and lets you pick him up.
Placing him on your hip, you give him a gentle hug.
“Hello sweet boy.” You whisper into his hair as your hand runs down along it.
Charlie reaches for Finn and a smile breaks out wide on your face as Finn takes his hand, the boys enamored with each other.
Your face shoots back up to Mr. Shelby as he clears his throat.
His eyes are hollow deep pits filled with raw madness that’s barely contained. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
Perhaps he hasn’t. You wouldn’t know, you don’t know this man, but you need this job, so you stare back into his eyes as if the sight of them didn’t break your heart.
“Alright then,” He says simply on a low gritty breath, giving his approval as he sparks a cigarette.
“But don’ touch anything in the house. Not a fuckin’ thing.” He practically spits out at you, his words shivering down your spine as you take it, because he isn’t the first man to send a blow your way.
“Mary prepare a room for Miss Fiona and her boy.” Mr. Shelby orders. And just like that, you’ve changed your son’s world.
Mr. Shelby is cold and distant, and you expect nothing less of a man who’s lost his heart. So you keep your distance and attend to the little one.
Charlie is easy to care for, easy to love. He’s sweet and joyful, and the boys have taken to each other easily.
The only hardship is the way he breaks your heart every time he calls for his mum. You wish you knew her. Knew how to bring her to life for him.
The house is bigger than any you’ve ever stayed in, but still Mr. Shelby and his moods manage to find you even inside these many rooms.
You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Not after the way you heard his family talking about his current state earlier in the morning.
But still, the way he comes at you, almost as if on attack, as if he needs to bite at something to lick his own wounds, and you’re the nearest one in sight, takes even you by surprise.
You’re preparing a picnic for the children since the sun has decided to come out from its hiding place, when Mr. Shelby thinks it’s time to a have a word.
“I asked around about yeah…” He starts as he appears suddenly, standing across from you in the white tiled kitchen.
You’re unsure if his interlude is supposed to stir a response, but you pay it no mind, barely glancing over his way as you await him to continue.
“Thought I hired a good catholic widow.” He says, his words low and full of innuendo as he pulls at a cigarette on his lips.
Your hands settle from the basket you’re tending to and offer him the undivided attention he seems insistent on having.
“I am a good catholic.” You tell him, looking him square in the eye, unflinching, because you’ve heard worse, from worse and you decided long ago others weren’t going to define you.
“Aye, a good fucking catholic girl who got herself pregnant outside of marriage.” He says, with that unflinching stare you can sense has a way of riling people up.
And it’s good, he’s good at pushing all the right buttons, because the indignant way he speaks to you easily serves its purpose and instantly you’re defensive of his claim.
“He loved me.” You defiantly tell him and anyone else who will listen.
How dare he take the moral high ground. He may have friends, and those with loose lips who are quick to pass judgement upon you, but you’re no fool to Mr. Shelby’s doings either.
You know about the Peak Blinders, everyone in these parts does. How dare he think he has a leg to stand on talking to you about morality.
“That why he ran off to the war stead of makin’ an honest woman of you?” He carries on, undiminished by the fire on your tongue.
And you know you should shut up, leave it be. This man has given you a job, given you and your child room and board, food in your bellies, living in a place far more grand than any you ever could have imagined. But even now, all these years later, you can’t rest when others presume to know how your son came to be a bastard, as they are so quick to call him to your face and behind your back.
“He didn’t know about the baby and when I sent word, he gave me his. Even from the pits of hell over there he promised we’d marry once he came home, but he never made it back. Swallowed up like the rest of ‘em to slaughter.” Tears biting at your eyes as you push them down and tighten your jaw.
“So you Mr. Shelby, you and all the others, you know nothing of it. Not a thing.” You unleash upon him.
You know the sins you committed. Know the price you and your son will pay for the rest of your lives, but you weren’t some foolish girl who got taken for a ride. And you’re tired of the world pretending as if you were.
Mr. Shelby’s goes silent with your confession, his face expressionless, but his eyes hold upon you, steady with you.
You get the sense you’ve taken him by surprise. Maybe he wasn’t expecting such a fervent response, maybe he didn’t think you had fire in your belly, or maybe what Polly had told you was true, he knows a little something about the prices of war.
Whatever the reason, Mr. Shelby doesn’t speak again and as your burners cool, you begin to feel the need to backtrack before you ruin a good thing for your son.
“I apologize Mr. Shelby. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.” You say formally, cordially, albeit forced, before you scoop up the biscuits and jam, placing them into the open basket resting on the butcher block before you.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m taking the children for a picnic while the weather still permits.” You say softly before making a hasty escape.
You’re nearly free, basket in hand, eyes staying steady down around your hands as you try to slip past him, but his arm drops down, blocking your passage, and you’re forced to look up at him, awaiting his word.
In your short time there you’ve learned Mr. Shelby has a way of taking up space, filling even the largest of rooms when he stands in them.
You find Mr. Shelby’s gaze waiting for you, and you brace yourself for the repercussion of your quick temper, but they never come.
“I didn’t…” He starts, his words stalling as he pulls at the cigarette on his lips.
You can feel he’s struggling, fighting with an apology of some sort. So you set him free.
“No need. You’re entitled to your opinions, Mr. Shelby. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me and my son. Given me a job in all.” You say, the blue of his eyes holding you captive.
The depth of them like a pit that could swallow you up if you stand too close to its edge.
“Charlie likes you.” He notes on a long breath, his words easing the tension thick between you.
“And I adore him.” You say simply.
Your answer pleases him and seems to diffuse the moment as he offers you a quick nod and lets you pass.
Masterlist: BETRAYAL
Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader x Luca Changretta
COMPLETE
Now also available as x OC story on AO3
Summary:
Tommy Shelby and Y/N (or, Matilda ‘Georgie’ George - OC) have been friends since they were four years old. Growing up on the streets of Small Heath they fell in love, only to be separated by the Great War. But when Tommy returns, he is not the same man. After the events of s1, their love rekindles and keeping it quiet from friends and family, the pair embark on a new relationship.
But when Tommy makes an impulsive, catastrophic choice one night, he finds himself having to live with the consequences. Consequences that eventually find him locked in a deadly battle against the woman he loves the most.
Warnings for whole story: 🔞 This is very angsty piece and littered with bad language. It contains some smut and some very dark themes, including domestic violence and sexual assault. For that reason, I respectfully ask minors not to interact. All chapters have their own warnings so please do check these before reading.
Credit: There are scenes and dialogue lifted from series 3 and series 4 of Peaky Blinders used throughout this story. I take no credit for Steven Knight’s writing or characters. Everything else is my own and I do not give permission for it to be replicated without consent.
STORY - complete
Part 1: It’s Always Been You
Part 2: You Could Be Happy
Part 3: New Places, Old Faces
Part 4: Vows
Part 5: Aftermath
Part 6: Black Hand
Part 7: Homecoming 🔞
Part 8: Women’s Business
Part 9: Deal With The Devil 🔞
Part 10: Photograph
Part 11: Leverage
Part 12: Gin
Part 13: Provisions
Part 14: Firelight
Part 15: Family Meeting
Part 16: Letters 🔞
Part 17: Black Star Day
Part 18: The Switch 🔞
Part 19: Revelations 🔞
Part 20: Vardo
Part 21: Negotiation
Part 22: The Fall
Part 23: Truths Within The Lies
Part 24: The Longest Night
Part 25: Submission
Part 26: Endgame
Part 27: Afterwards
Part 28: Epilogue 🔞
SHORTS
One shots, inspired by the story
From Paris With Love 🔞
A Sky Full Of Stars
The Princess of Camden Town
Til Death Do Us Part - dark!au spin-off blurb
Masterlists: TOMMY | ALFIE | LUCA | MAIN
Hi everyone, this is my first time posting and my first time writing a fanfic. But here I am, inspired to write something after reading so many amazing Peaky Blinders fics on here. This is a bit of an out there story, think Peaky Blinders meets time travel, supernatural themes, the modern world, gypsy magic and very unusual circumstances to the start of a relationship. A quick thank you again to @cillmequick for proof reading my story and giving me the courage to post it.
A Ghost Of A Man (PART ONE)
Summary: Reader discovers a curious looking folder full of information on a Small Heath gang from the 1900's. After digging for more information she encounters someone or something in an abandoned building.
Warnings: Language, supernatural themes
Growing up close to Birmingham you had always felt drawn to the famous west midlands city. So drawn to it that you decided to enrol in the history course Birmingham University had to offer. You had a passion in particular for local history and books, you knew so much about the city, and one day you hoped to work in its biggest library. But it was not only history you had a passion for but also antiques. You would often visit small antique shops around the city, certain objects catching your eye, taking them home, then spending countless hours researching the object trying to find out the history behind it. You had quite the collection of items now, taking up the majority of space in your flat that you shared with your friend. Your friend Louise was also a student in history, you met Fresher's week at Uni, and after getting along so well you both decided to ditch student accommodation and rent out a flat together in and old house just outside Birmingham city center. You called it a flat because you didn't know what else to call it. It was more of a converted attic in an old house, the ceilings were low and the floorboards creaked no matter where you stepped but it was worth it, worth it for the vast view of old rooftops with their decaying chimneys, and the remnants of buildings from Birmingham's industrial past that seemed to go on as far as the eye could see. You would often find yourself sitting in the large armchair that occupied the spot next to the small round window in your bedroom, gazing out at the bricked buildings you wondered what life was truly like a hundred years ago in this city. You would get so lost in your thoughts looking out the window that you would often get this overwhelming feeling like you were not supposed to be here, you were living a life that was yours but in the wrong era, it was overpowering at times. You always put it down to your passion for the past and your longing to experience life in a different time. But was it?
It was Sunday, a day you enjoyed the most. Why? Because it was the day you would drag your friend to the antique markets. She loved history but was baffled why a 20 something year old girl would love old dusty smelly objects that in her opinion were better of in the bin.
"Come on Louise, please?"
"Jesus Y/N, don't you have enough old crap?"
" Erh no never...plus I have been waiting for this particular antique fair all year, everyone's hyped for it"
"Hyped for it? Do 70 plus year olds get hyped for things?" Your friend asked with a laugh.
" I'll have you know there are plenty of younger people that go to these markets, it's quite boujee nowadays to decorate your place with little antique nick nacks here and there"
" Boujee" She laughed "fine but you owe me a coffee and the biggest slice of cake available. Why is this one so special compared to the hundreds of others we go to every year?" She said trying to hide her laugh.
" Well...this antique fair will probably never happen again, its only antiques collected from one particular area of Birmingham, Small Heath"
You saw the flyer for the event on your way to Uni one day. After checking online for more information you knew you couldn't miss it, it was a one off event. Apparently the building everything had been stored in for over a hundred years had been brought by property developers and they wanted to get rid of it all, and quickly. The collection was supposed to be sold off to a museum but when the museum decided they no longer wanted to buy the lot of items it was left to collect dust, now everything had to go. Online it stated that there would be all sorts of items from local businesses to household items, clothes, jewelry, books, old newspapers, documents and furniture. You had to go.
Living in Sparkhill not far from Small Heath you decided to take public transport. After a short bus ride you made it to the antique fair. It was already pretty busy and much to your friends amusement you was indeed the only ones attending that weren't over the age of 60.
" Don't say anything" you mumbled to her.
" Are you sure your not from a different century? " She laughed.
Rolling your eyes grumbling to yourself you started to browse the tables. You was amazed at how well preserved everything was. There was everything you could think of for sale, a lot of it out of your price range but you couldn't help but lose yourself looking through it all.
" Y/N, come look at this old pub stuff" your friend called over.
" The Garrison? Do you think that was the name of the pub" you said looking at a large wooden plaque with the name written across it.
" Must be... Ooh! look at these old whiskey glasses, how much are these? She asked the man behind the table.
" For a set of four, 10 quid love"
" You don't even drink whiskey" you leaned into her and whispered.
"I'll take them. She nodded to to the seller. " Well I can put some Bailey's in them, that's close enough right?"
Shaking your head laughing you wandered off to the next stall. Bending down looking into a box you saw some old documents in a paper folder tied together with a red string "The Peaky Blinders ".
" Can I open this ?" you asked the woman.
" Go ahead darling" she nodded.
Opening it up you came across newspaper articles, business documents, police reports and one name In particular that kept popping up, Thomas Shelby. Quickly skimming over an article It talked about a razor gang called the Peaky Blinders based in Small Heath and the leader of that gang was one Mr Thomas Shelby. You were intrigued.
" How much for everything?" You asked.
" For you my lovely 20 pound"
A little pricey you thought, considering you could probably find all this information for free at the Sparkhill library you worked part time at but these were the original documents and newspaper clippings so you decided to go ahead and buy them.
"What did you find?" your friend asked while looking through some old books.
" This old folder about a razor gang that used to operate around here in the early 20th century"
" Riveting" She laughed.
" Ha.ha, I thought it would be a good idea for our latest Uni assignment"
" When our lecturer told us to pick a prominent figure that helped in the building of Birmingham's industrial and economical past I don't think he ment a razor gang Y/N" she laughed.
" It's still interesting though, could be a different take on the assignment? From what I have read so far this Thomas Shelby sounds like a dangerous man"
" I guess it is, if you like bad boys right?" She giggled linking arms with you as you both continued to look through the stalls.
"Wow Louise look at this necklace" you said as you beckoned your friend over with your hand.
"That's beautiful Y/N, you should get it"
The necklace itself was a small gold locket, turning it over there was the engraved initials M.S.
"I wonder who M.S was?" You asked your friend.
"Don't know" she said brushing her thumb over the engraving" but I'm sure with your research skills you will find out"
You continued to look at the locket, you tried opening it but it appeared to be jammed. Just as you was examining the locket for any damage an older lady appeared next to you. Her hands were adorned with rings and she had a curious looking necklace hanging around her neck, noticing you looking at it she spoke to you.
"It's the black Madonna" she said pressing the palm of her hand on it smiling to you. "It keeps me safe".
"It's beautifull, I've never seen anything like it" you said looking at her. She looked familiar, but you couldn't figure out where you had seen her before.
"You should get that" she said putting a friendly hand on your arm.
"Sorry?" You replied confused.
"The gold locket" she said opening your clasped hand around it. "It belongs with you" she said as she closed your hand around it again.
"I'm sorry, have I met you before? You look so familiar" you said as her piercing blue eyes looked deep into yours.
Shaking her head she smiled sweetly. "Maybe we knew eachother in another life"
Smiling back you opened your hand and looked at the locket nestled in your palm. She was right it did feel like it belonged to you, you couldn't explain it, you was drawn to it.
"I think I will get it" you said to the seller.
Turning to face the old lady, she was still looking at you, when you noticed a small tear in the corner of her eye.
"Thank you for convincing me, I'll treasure it" you said, slightly worried that you had upset this dear old lady somehow.
Patting your arm she turned and walked away giving you one last endearing smile.
"Who was that?" Asked your friend
" I don't know, but I feel like I know her from somewhere" you said your eyes following her as she disappeared through the market.
You continued looking through the antique fair for another hour, nothing else catching your eye you both decided to go have some lunch.
A few hours later you arrived back home. Going straight to your bedroom, you looked at your new locket and decided to try it on. It sat perfectly in the middle of your chest, you smiled at yourself in the mirror slightly adjusting it to make it straight. Sitting on your bed you opened up the folder you brought and started to read through everything.
How had you never heard of this gang? You thought to yourself. You knew almost everything about Birmingham's past. These documents looked official though, like someone was collecting information on them. Maybe they were never ment to be seen by anyone. Which begged the question how did they end up in a box at an antique fair? Feeling tired and overwhelmed with information you closed the folder deciding to research through the archives at work tomorrow.
The next day at work on your break you logged onto your computer. Clicking on archives you started typing key words into the search bar. Peaky Blinders, Birmingham razor gang, Shelby family, Small heath gang, Watery lane betting shop, Shelby company limited, Thomas Shelby. But nothing, nothing came up. One last go you thought to yourself, and you typed T.Shelby. There was one link, a death certificate. Clicking on it, you realised it was a death certificate for Thomas Michael Shelby born January 1890 death February 1922 Small Heath, Birmingham. It didn't state how he died, but mentally calculating his birth date and death date you realised he died pretty young. You was so intrigued by this gang, if you was going to use them for your assignment you needed to know more. Slightly frustrated with the lack of anymore information, you decided to dig deeper.
"Janette?" You said calling over to your boss." Will you do me a huge favour?" You said with pleading eyes.
"What do you need now?" she said as she crossed her arms with a slight chuckle.
"Can I have access to the Birmingham Journal newspaper archives"
"What year?"
"1922"
"We should have them upstairs in the storage room, but first things first are you going to tell me what your looking for?" your boss asked curiously.
"I'm doing research on this gang for Uni, the leader Thomas Shelby died in 1922 but on his death certificate it doesn't say how, don't you find that weird?"
"It's not that unusual, if he was part of a gang the authorities would have probably tried to cover it up, I mean I wouldn't be surprised if the police were on his payroll" she laughed raising her eyebrows. "Go on then, just be careful those books are very old, we really need to photocopy them onto the online database, I've told Richard plenty of tim..." She trailed off as she walked away still talking to herself.
Up in the storage room you was losing hope, you had already gone through two very large books filled with news articles from 1922. Pulling out the the third book from the shelf you let out a big sigh. Turning to the first page the article talked about an Italian gang and a man called Darby Sabini "wrong gang" you huffed. Ten pages later at the bottom corner of a newspaper was a short article. " Birmingham gang leader from small heath killed by rival gang". This has to be it you thought. It didn't specify it was the Peaky Blinders gang, but how many other gangs could there have been in Small Heath? It stated that... "The leader of the notorious Small Heath gang had been beaten within an inch of his life in an alleyway by a rumoured rival Italian gang, and was later found dead slumped in his office chair". You sat back in your chair sighing "Jesus Christ, what a way to go" you said aloud. He must have made his way back to his office, and died right there at his desk you thought. Curious you decided to find out where his office was located. After a few minutes of searching you found it on the online property census under the name "T.S Offices". It was close to the city center not far from Small Health. Checking the bus route online you realised the bus to his office passed right by Watery Lane.
Looking up at the clock, only 10 minutes left untill the library closes you said to yourself. Tapping your pen on the desk, fiddling with your new gold locket you was getting agitated, was you really going to do this? It was a pretty morbid thing to do, visiting the place where someone had died, but you had invested so much time into knowing about this man's life. You knew who his family was, that he served in the first world war, that he had an illegal betting shop heck you even knew where he brought his suits from, although you questioned if he actually brought them. You had read everything in that folder you found at the antique fair, tried to find anything on the online databases, you needed a conclusion to his story.
Finally it was five o'clock, packing up your things and turning off the front desk computer you hurried out the library waving goodbye to your colleagues. Walking to take the bus it finally occured to you that the office building was probably no longer there or had been converted into a block of flats. Stopping you started to turn around away from the bus stop, this was stupid, what was you doing you thought to yourself. Then you stoped again walking back to the bus stop then turning around again you walked away, you must have looked like a mad woman to anybody passing by. With a huge huff you psyched yourself up and headed back to the bus stop just in time for the bus. After a ten minute ride you arrived at your stop.
" Excuse me, excuse me!" You waved over to an elderly man on the opposite side of the road.
" I'm trying to find the old T.S offices? "
" Just around the corner love" he pointed to his right
" Thanks" you shouted back heading in that direction.
Turning the corner, you was now on a long road, each side of you were tall red bricked buildings. The direction to Thomas Shelby's office was down that very same street and then as you turn the corner on the left hand side it should be there. Walking down the street a strange feeling came over you, you thought about turning back until you came to the end of the road and saw it. It was still there, the building was still there, you couldn't believe it. It looked completely abandoned, a few windows smashed in and tall metal gates surrounding it with a sign saying "Keep out. Private property". Without even thinking you opened the bottom of the two metal gates being held together with a large metal chain and padlock and slid between them. It was pretty obvious others had been here before, a few beer bottles lying on the grass and some graffiti on the large wooden front door. You pushed with as much force as you could and opened the door. Stumbling in you first came across a large wooden staircase, on your left was an empty room so you decided to head up stairs. As you got to the top the first thing you noticed was that there was still some old furniture, desks facing opposite eachother, one even having an old type writer still on it. Paper was scattered all over the old floorboards and the paint on the walls was chipped and falling off. Picking up one of the papers it read at the top "Shelby Company Limited", you was definitely in the right place.
At the end of the room was a large door, that had to be his office you thought. Making your way over to the door that uneasy feeling started to creep up again, swallowing it down you opened the door. Inside was a large wooden desk and chair, walking over to the desk you brushed your fingers along the back of the leather chair. "Jesus Christ, it's cold In here" you whispered closing your cardigan around you. The windows were not broken in here though, why was it so cold? It was mid January, but wasn't a particularly cold day. Standing facing the window you exhaled out a breath of condensation. Rubbing your arms trying to warm yourself up, you looked down and noticed another piece of paper, it looked like a letter and was signed in hand "Thomas Shelby". Picking it up you sighed " So this is where you took your final breath Thomas Shelby".
Folding up the paper and putting it in your pocket you started to smell something strange a mix of tobacco and what you thought was whiskey. What the fuck you thought to yourself. Then you realised...shit, your not alone. You hadn't turned around from the window since picking up the letter, and you knew that when you would, you'd come face to face with the other person in this room. Slowly turning around your eyes on the floor, with your hands raised up shaking you spoke "I'm sorry...i'm sorry, I kno...know I shouldn't be in here". Your eyes still on the floor you was now facing the doorway, slowly lifting your gaze you noticed two black boots stood in-between the door frame, a long black coat resting against each side of the figures legs. As your eyes moved up you noticed the dark figures hands in their trouser pockets and a gold pocket watch chain attached to their waistcoat. Shaking you finally looked straight ahead of you, and there was a man with a lit cigarette in his mouth and a peaked cap shadowing his face. As he looked up his pale almost sickly white face came into your vision, a look of pure anger and malice spread across his face. His piercing pale blue eyes stared deep into yours, until in a dark deep husky voice he spoke...
"Who the fuck are you?"
NEXT PART
Secrets and Broken Hearts
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"Why did you do that?" He said, voice unnervingly calm. Silence. Everything was silent for a few moments before she broke it with a sigh, "I told you. I stayed because we had a deal." She looked up at him, his stark blue eyes looking at her, searching for lies.
"You said you love him."
"I do"
"Do you still?"
As those words escaped his lips, her breathed hitched, 'love him, still?' Avoiding his gaze, she shook her head, finding no meaning in this conversation. "Love him or not. The deal is still ongoing. Once your 'love' comes back, I'll leave"
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Ms. Bennett, a woman of humble background, hides something from others. Though what would happen once faced with the mobster, Thomas Shelby himself? Time passed by, will striking a deal to get what they want help? Shall they stay or leave once their plan goes accordingly? After all, business is business. Vague as everything is, should the day come and everything will come to light.
Materlist
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5 (coming soon)
The Unexpected Visit Masterlist
Thomas Shelby X Filipina Reader
Summary: A modern Filipina woman had accidentally traveled through time and found herself in Birmingham, in 1999.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4 (Coming soon)