#blighty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notyour-valentine · 2 years

Text

Blighty One ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Angst)

Summary: When Tommy gets hurt, time is running out and when his girl steps up, there's nothing he can do about it

Note: Thank you for the request - I hope you like it.

Here is my [Masterlist].

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Request: I was wondering if you could write something where Tommy's girl risk her life to save him?

Warning: Gun violence, blood. Expect canon confirming tone, language and depiction of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Wordcount: 1868

Breathe, Tommy thought. Just fucking breathe.

Right now there was nothing he could do apart from that, nothing at all. And the last thing he could afford was to lose his head.

They had cover, so even if they were still firing, they wouldn’t be able to hit them.

It was alright, he told himself, because they had cover.

And as long as the bullets kept coming there was no way of looking back, not unless one wanted to risk getting shot. But they had cover - fuck

Focus, soldier. Fucking focus.

It was as if he was trying to fight a pressure on his chest as he tried to breath, a biting, burning pressure that made a groan escape his clenched teeth.

Forcing his eyes shut, he battled for control of himself.

He had to - that was his job.

Opening them again, he leaned his head back against the wood and looked around, searching for John.

Always John first. He was the youngest, his younger brother and the one with the most waiting for him back home. So he had always looked for John first, after every struggle, every fight, every collapse and every explosion.

But he could see him, standing at the corner of the small entrance to the corridor they had fled into, his back pressed against the painted wood, and the gun in his hand. Arthur was next.

He wasn’t close to John, which made his heart beat even faster than it already raced, but then he saw his brother, kneeling in front of him.

Tommy on his own breath as he leaned forward to get a look at his brothers eyes, because that was the second danger, surpassed only by possible injuries.

He needed Arthur, and he needed all of him if he wanted to get through this.

But Arthur’s eyes, even if they were wild and frantic like two treacherous lights glimmering in the darkness, were clear.

Thank fuck.

Those were his two priorities.

It wasn’t like the others didn’t matter to him, of course they did, but his brothers were his responsibility.

They had only come to France because of him. If anything happened to them, it would be on him and he’d never forgive himself.

Only…Tommy wasn’t in the trenches, nor was he underground.

The trousers he wore were black and not that ghastly greenish-brown which he never wanted to see again.

There was no mud either, but clean, cold stone and painted wood.

And the light was the sun that made them sweat until the water stood in their shoes but it came from the flickering light of the lamp.

“Oh my God!”

It was her voice that truly brought him back, her frantic, panicked voice and her equally unsteady hands.

His own still had her coat in an iron grip at her collar from when he had grabbed her and pushed her head down and out of harms way.

“Oh my God!”

She was wearing the new coat he had gotten her, as blue as a midday winter sky.

Tommy liked buying her pale clothes, now that they could afford them. Before, they never would have twice of buying something that would get dirty easily and show stains.

She was always hesitant, preferring practicality over luxury, but he so liked to spoil her. Even the seamstress had been cautious about the white wild leather gloves.

Or they had been white, now they were stained with red.

“Arthur, what do I do?”, she whimpered, her chest rising and falling in rapid, frantic intervals without any semblance of rhythm.

Tommy looked her up and down, trying to find the source of the blood- on that pale coat of her’s he ought to have seen it at once, but he saw nothing…nothing at all.

It did nothing to curb the bottomless terror he felt.

“Fuck!”, Arthur said, his eyes meeting his and in them, he saw nothing but dread.

Only when he felt the pain from the pressure (Y/N) tried to apply, did his own gaze lower.

Fuck, Tommy thought.

It had all happened so quickly.

One moment they were walking through the now deserted hall, his mind already on the horse, on the way home and an easy day - for once.

Then someone from the gallery had bellowed his name, his voice filled with hate and venom.

Once he had seen the gun, he had had less than a single second to react.

John had been the quickest to draw his gun, or at least that was what he remembered.

Tommy's only concern was getting her out of the way.

And once they had cover he had made sure the rest of them were alright.

Only now did he have the time to look at himself.

(Y/N)’s hands were pressing down on his waistcoat, made from the same black fabric, but when she drew them back, the red stains had doubled in size.

“Let me see, let me see!”, Arthur insisted.

In one clean tug he had ripped the buttons clean off and pushed the dark fabric aside.

Under it, a red rose had begun to bloom, just opening its petals towards the sun.

Only when she gasped, the pain truly hit him.

“Scarf- give me your scarf!”, Arthur ordered, and (Y/N) rushed to obey.

He lifted Tommy’s arm and wrapped it around his waist, tightening it into a knot before pressing down.

“You’ll be alright, Tom, eh?”, he said, nodding.

But the look in (Y/N)’s eyes betrayed the situation. They were wide and frantic and fearful, a look that made him sick to his stomach, but before he could say something, she swallowed hard, her sleeve covering her mouth.

Her bloody hand closed into a fist.

In the split second she closed her eyes, he knew her mind was racing, but when she opened them again, they were filled with iron determination.

“We have to get him to a hospital.”, she told Arthur.

“Yeah.”, his brother agreed, his large palm still pressing down on Tommy’s side.

With his other hand, he took his arm and pulled him to his feet.

(Y/N) tried her best to help but when Tommy felt his legs give way, she wasn’t able to stem his weight, making him slump against his brother’s side.

Arthur staggered a step back before catching their combined weights.

“I can’t hold you, Tommy!”, (Y/N) wimpered breathlessly, heaving him back into a standing position, as soon as Arthur had steadied them.

“‘s alright.”, Tommy tried to assure her.

His mouth had run dry and his tongue felt thick and foreign.

When he tried to focus, her face began to blur slightly.

“John!”, she hissed, “John, you have to take him!”

He tired to turn his head to look at his younger brother, but his head felt heavy.

“If I leave position, they’ll just come. You three, go!”

John’s voice had a strange echo to it, Tommy thought, as if he was speaking into an empty hall and not a small, narrow corridor.

For a few seconds he could hear (Y/N)’s frantic breathing, and then she gave a small nod.

“I understand. , You’ll be twice as quick if you help carry him.”, she insisted.

“(Y/N)...”, Arthur winced.

All the while, Tommy’s mouth had run as dry as parchment paper.

Perhaps that was why he was the last to realise, it only dawning on him when he felt her hand slip in under his coat to where he kept his gun.

“No!”, Tommy hissed as he felt the absence of the weight. “Fucking no!”

His fingers felt foreign to him as they tried to grab her.

He had aimed for her hand to wretch the gun from it, but instead had only managed to grasp her coat.

“(Y/N)...”, he warned, every syllable of her name making his throat ache. “Don’t you dare-”

His threat ended in a groan of pain as his leg buckled again.

Both her and Arthur immediately rushed towards him to hold him up.

Her face was so close to his she must’ve felt his ragged breath on her cheek.

“John please!”, she insisted.

The desperation in her voice was even more agonising than the pain in his side.

“Don’t, John!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare, soldier.”

But he wasn’t in France now, no Sergeant Major that could order his men. And his men had no obligation to follow his command.

“She’s right, Tom.”, Arthur said, glancing at the door. “She’s right. You know she is. You need to go to a hospital.”

“Fucking no!”

The hiss of pain made made his desperation even more clearer, while his lips felt dry even though the words he said were sloppy.

His fingers coiled so deeply into her sleeve he could feel the fibres he could feel the wool coming apart. And yet as soon as she stepped back, his fingers slipped away without purpose and void of any strength they might once have held.

“I love you very much, you know?”, she told him, without tears, or a tremble in her voice.

And her certainty terrified him to his core.

These words came easy to her, at least when it came to him. She told him often and frequent, and he had heard these words spoken in joy and in sadness, in fear and in doubt.

She said them without expectation, without any intention but to make it known to him.

Tommy had heard these words far more often than he had ever said them, chosing to reply with other means, with kisses and caresses.

She knew, of course, that he loved her. She had to know, because it was so obvious to Tommy, laced in anything he did or said, but he couldn't remember ever saying it.

And he was incapable of saying it now. Instead the terror that had spread through his body infected his voice.

“Don’t do this, don’t fucking do this. Arthur, don’t let her do this.”, he insisted, reaching out to his brother’s face, which, like (Y/N)’s face was becoming blurry. Please.

He needed his brother, he always needed his brother, his other half, his right hand and right now he needed him more than ever.

He needed him to see sense. He needed him to stop her.

She wasn’t a soldier, she had no experience shooting anything but bottles and pigeons and he hadn’t even allowed her to hold a gun in the last few years.

Even if she knew how to shoot, she couldn’t shoot like that. Like them.

The men firing at them were soldiers who had seen active combat in France, where experience was only trumped by blind luck, which never could be relied upon.

Tommy didn’t know why they were even considering this for a single second. It was beyond madness.

His other arm was lifted and he was pulled up.

“It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright, eh, brother?”, he heard John lie to him.

Tommy tried to shake his head, to argue, to order them.

If he pulled away and could support his own weight, it would be fine. She would be fine.

He couldn’t let her do this. It was foolish and reckless and they were after him, not her. He couldn’t let her do this, not for him.

Fuck.

None of them had thought it through, how could they not see that?

If they took him to the hospital, they’d have to take the car and that meant she wouldn’t have a chance to get away. She’d be left here all alone-

How could they be so fucking idiotic?

Tommy wanted to tell them, to scream at them, to make them understand…

But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

His vision kept blurring and any strength he had one had in his arms and legs was reduced to near nothing.

And there was nothing he could do as John and Arthur half carried, half dragged him towards the exit.

Tommy fought the darkness for as long as he could, with everything he had, but every time he forced his eyes to open again, it became harder and harder with the rush in his ears growing ever louder.

Everything around him had already turned to black, when he heard the exchange of fire.

At any other time it would have sent his body and mind into wild alert, but today it was the last thing he perceived before slipping into nothingness.

End

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind! If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist]

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy

@books-livre @chlorrox

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly

#valentineswritings #Blighty One #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby one shot #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Thomas Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby one shot #Thomas Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby Angst #Thomas Shelby Angst

814 notes · View notes