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padfootdaredmetoo · 4 months

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Tommy x wife reader: Charlie and Ruby are theirs (no grace or lizzie) and they have a few other children, in order of their ages: Charles (Charlie) James (Jamie) Edward (Teddie) Ruby (Ru)

And just after Ruby dies and Tommy finds out he’s dying, his wife finds out she is pregnant again and she is just traumatised by it as she’s lost her only daughter and her aunt-in-law and about to lose her husband too

But Tommy doesn’t die and they have a baby girl, who they name Rose Elizabeth, because Ruby loved roses and after Polly and they nickname her Posy as a portmanteau of Rosy and Polly

Hey Love,

Sorry it took forever. This one is pretty sad and I really enjoyed writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Peaky Themes, Childbirth, Child death, grieving.

Not a single dull day had passed in Arrow House. It was always loud as the children ran around causing chaos. Today was so silent you could drop a tack in the kitchen and hear it in the attic.

You lay on the floor of your youngest daughter's room. Your little girl. The grief clenched in your chest and you felt your heart miss a beat as your body twisted in on itself. You’d never felt such a loss in your life.

Now you have a baby in your stomach, your husband is going to die leaving you with three boys. You knew you should be with him, enjoy his presence while you have him here amongst the living.

How could you worry about anything after watching your daughter slip from the world just a day ago? You remember holding her hand and singing to her. Thomas holding it together just until her eyes fluttered closed before falling apart in a way you didn't think him capable of.

You sat there silently. Something deep inside you felt at peace. She was safe where she was. Polly was with her. Knowing something deep in your soul had never taken away from the way your brain and body worked.

Your body hadn’t stopped shaking since it happened. Your limbs vibrating as you lay on her pink carpet. You felt discarded like all the stuffies and dolls that lay on the floor around you. Without her to come and breathe life into you, you would stay on the carpet like a doll.

Teddie was the first person to find you. His small body came and curled up against your side. The warmth of him seeped into your icy body.

A mother could only stop being a mother once she had no children left. And you had three. This moment of sadness and grief couldn't go on for the eternity you felt it needed. You had boys to wrangle. Little Ruby adored her brothers and you knew she wouldn't ever forgive you if you let them down.

With the strength of a British Mum, you brushed the tears off your cheeks with the side of your hand. You sat up even though every selfish part of you screamed to lay back down on that carpet. To rot away to a place where you could hold her again.

“Hey, Teddie.” You whispered running a hand down the small boy’s back.

“Mum I’m hungry.” He mumbled.

“Teddie! Dad said we have to leave her alone.” Charlie was in the doorway, with his arms crossed. His tone was angry and you could swear he looked years older than the last time you saw him.

“Darling, never leave me alone.” You said giving him a serious look. His face faltered slightly as he took in your words. “I’m still a mum. And mum’s make dinner, let’s go. Into the kitchen.”

Teddie was happy and you picked him up even though he was far too big for that now. Walking down the hallway, Charlie surprised you when he opened Jamie’s door.

You sat Teddie on his favorite spot on the counter and started getting out various pots and pans.

“She’s up.” He said and your middle boy came into the hallway. Silently the four of you made it into the kitchen. Grief was creeping in all the shadows of the room as Charlie made a fire.

“Ruby isn't coming home is she?” Teddie asked. Charlie let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in the way only the eldest child could.

“No, she’s with Aunt Polly now. They live in the sky.” Jamie answered softly. You gripped the edges of the pot tightly as you pushed down the intense feelings threatening to overflow again.

The window opened and you could hear her voice on the wind that whipped around your face.

Keep Going.

That’s what you did. Death be dammed you’d made a deal with God to sacrifice and survive for these boys and that’s what you would do.

With a cracking heart you closed the window and looked around the kitchen at the boy's stunned faces.

“Please tell me you heard that as well right?” Charlie said with wide eyes.

______________________________________________________________

One dinner down a lifetime left to go.

The weeks turned into a month and the pain did not relent. You had no moments of peace only the love felt by shared grieving. Esme was always around now. All the kids lumped together in Arrow House like the days of the Changretta feud. She made sure your hair got brushed and your outfits matched.

Arthur came around every day. He kept Tommy together while they worked out all this conflict. He feels a war is coming and you couldn't imagine it could be anything worse than the one raging in your mind. Alfie stops by and tells you things that confirm it will be much worse.

Three boys, and a war.

You put your make-up on so you have a reason not to cry during the day.

You spend every evening with Tommy. You know what he is doing is important. It could change the outcome for the rest of the families on the planet. So you sacrifice your time with him and survive on the couch reading. When really you just stare into the fire wishing everything would burn up to be reborn as something new.

Three boys and one more undetermined in your stomach. Your hand rested there often. You expected to lose the baby so you didn't really think about it. If they did come into this world you prayed it would be before Tommy passed. Grieving with a baby in your stomach would be easier than grieving with a newborn. But you wanted them to meet their father, even if it was for a fleeting moment. You would suffer and survive.

Tommy finally got over himself and got a second opinion. He hated doctors and you expected him to be in a foul mood when he got back from a series of appointments in London. Alfie accompanied him back and you placed a plate of biscuits and cups of tea on the kitchen table. The kitchen was for family, but Alfie somehow managed to get an invitation out of Tommy. You were always happy to see him, but were wary of the news he often brought these days. You took a seat and he grabbed your hand and held it. Your mind flashed back to the good old days when something so small would have sent Tommy after him in a rage.

Alfie knew better than to ask how you were keeping. Tommy finally sat down at the head of the table, he looked pale. Too pale to drive, which explains why Alfie had come back with him.

“I’m not sick.” His eyes closed and he leaned back against the chair.

“What?” You whispered.

“The f-uck-ing doctor was working for that stupid mustache piece of shit,” Alfie said his voice was venomous but his smile was unshakeable.

“You're not going to die.” Your eyes moved to Tommy and he shook his head.

“Going to have to wait a while longer to steal you away, love.” Alfie's voice was all humor now, but he knew it was time to let go of your hand when Tommy flashed him a look. The look of the old Tommy.

“I’m pregnant.” You blurted out.

“Looks like I dodged a bullet. Last thing I wanted to be raising up another little Shelby brat.” Alfie was laughing and Tommy smiled. A genuine smile.

You were happy, and then the brutal deafening sadness crashed down on you. The sheer panic of having a child hits again and the nausea has you throwing your head back in the sink. Tommy is there pulling your hair up.

“Like she would ever go for you,” Tommy said easily taking a sip of tea.

“Shit,” Alfie says from the counter near you. He gets a glass for Tommy to fill with water.

____________________________________________________________

You told Esme and you both held on to each other as you cried.

“I never thought I would say this but thank God Tommy will be alright.” She shook her head as the words strangled her. “You’ll never have to know what it’s like to raise em up with out their father.”

You both cried on the kitchen floor for a long while.

_________________________________________

The time came and you had high blood pressure meaning you had to do things in the hospital. Something that made everything a thousand times more painful. But that was your baby, and you would sacrifice and they would survive.

They kept trying to medicate you and Esme kept throwing nurses out of the room screaming at them in Romani when English wasn't scary enough. In the thick of it you kept crying out for Polly.

You didn't want these strangers to help you. They didn't care about you or your baby. They weren't family. Arthur came and spoke to Esme in the doorway for a moment. You expected news that Tommy wouldn't make it in time or that something worse had happened.

Instead, Esme handed you one of Polly’s rosaries to hold. You gripped the cold crystal beads and felt yourself split apart over all the reasons you were crying.

Tommy showed up and commanded the room with Esme. The window blew open letting cold air around the room and you could feel her love for you.

You gave birth to a little girl.

There were no pictures taken as you bawled. You got her latched on to your breast and cried and cried. The nurses kept pushing for sedation but Esme started at them and Tommy pointed towards the door. Arthur came in and read a passage from his bible for you. You're not sure why exactly but it helped. It felt like a blessing that this baby would be alright.

_______________________________________________

You brought her home the same night, itching to get out of the hospital. You carried her in and watched all your boys get excited. You handed her off to Charlie first.

“I love it when they look like grumpy old men,” Jamie said with a smile, Teddie let out a loud laugh.

“She does look like an old man.”

“What did you name her?” Charlie asked his finger tracing down the slope of her nose.

“Rose Elizabeth,” Tommy said sitting next to him placing his arm around his eldest son.

“Posy then,” Charlie said with a sense of finality.

Charlie, Jamie, Teddie, and Posy. Your heart was happy and sad at the same time.

Jamie came round and put his arm around you.

“Love you mum.” He whispered and you wondered when he got old enough to kiss the top of your head. The boys were strong like their father, and you had no doubts they were strong enough to carry you and Posy.

_______________________________________________________________

This chunk of time was easier than it was with the other four kids. Tommy took time off. Churchill had other moves he wanted to play and for now, Tommy wasn’t involved.

He’d sit while you breastfed in the night, he’d change nappies, and read stories. You watched him be a girl dad again and the pain was harsh and beautiful at the same time.

Esme helped you take down Ruby’s room. The idea of moving one of the boys to a different floor or wing of the house made your skin itch. Ruby’s room needed to be emptied.

You aired the room out and you knew that she would be happy about giving it to her sister. Esme assured you at every turn that she wouldn't be angry at you.

_______________________

Eventually Arrow House moved on. Posy was very attached to the idea she had both an Aunt and a sister in the sky watching over her.

The war came and what was left of the family did what they had to do. Thankfully Posy was there with you so you were never alone.

Thankfully when it was all over all your boys came home to you.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #dad tommy shelby #peaky blinds fic #peaky blinders request

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

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A Secret, a Fear and a Hatbox ~ dad!Tommy Shelby (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: With his wife away, Tommy feels more helpless than ever at the change of behaviour in his children

Note: Written for @look-at-the-soul and her 900 follower celebration: I hope you enjoy!

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Warning: unrealistic dog behaviour

Wordcount: 3076 words

Of course, Tommy thought.

Of course, something would be wrong with his children in the one week of the year when his wife was out of the house, worse: un - fucking - reachable.

Ada be damned, for wanting to take all the women of the family minus Linda over to America for a week.

They were on their way back now, but that didn’t help.

While she was on that boat, Tommy couldn’t reach her and ask her if (1) she knew what was up, (2) how he could find out what was up and (3) how he could resolve whatever was up.

And that would be another three days, eight hours and forty-seven minutes, at least according to the advertising of the cruise company.

He shut the lid of his pocket watch with a sigh and slipped it back into his pocket.

Maybe, he thought as he reached for the whisky, he was simply overthinking.

He had never been alone with the children before, well technically he wasn’t now, with Frances and the maids, but he was the only parent around.

Despite their astronomical rise, she had resented the idea of a nanny, and shuddered at the thought of a nursery maid, and Tommy had agreed.

He didn’t mind other people cooking his food and ironing his shirts, but a near stranger holding his children, changing them, bathing them, rocking them to sleep?

Someone who wasn’t blood? Who wasn’t family?

Occasionally, he could tolerate the thought, but as normality?

Absolutely not.

Something tribal in him prevented the entertainment of such an idea, but that left him in the tight spot of now shouldering the responsibility for the two in her absence.

For all his faults, he had noticed the change in his children.

It had started well enough, but after a few days, it had all shifted.

Usually, Betty would be the essence of decorum, more perfect in every way than one of the children in the catalogues, as if she was born in a place like Arrow House and not, unlike her brother, in Watery Lane.

But she wolfed down her food like her little brother did, and requested to leave the table while still chewing.

That had never happened before, even at Christmas, or on Birthdays.

And little Georgie, well, usually it nearly took force or bribery to get him to stay indoors, always climbing trees and tending to the horses, but now he was his sister’s constant shadow, and as silent as one too.

His head snapped up as he heard the rhythm of little feet on the grand staircase which led right past his office, and hushed voices too, even though they were too soft for him to make out the words.

With a sigh he pushed his chair back and crossed his office in long strides. When he pulled the door open, he saw both Betty and Georgie already halfway though the entrance hall - with Betty carrying a large white box in her hands.

When Georgie saw him, he gasped and grabbed his older sister’s arm, his eyes wide in horror.

Betty turned, saw him, gulped and then offered him the sweetest of smiles.

“Hello Daddy!”, she chirped as bright as the early summer sun. “I’m so sorry if we were loud. We were just going outside for some fresh air.”

“And what’s that then, eh?”, he asked, nodding to the box.

It seemed vaguely familiar but on closer inspection, he remembered that the dark green accents were that of the London Hatmaker he had sent her to before taking her to the races a few years back.

“Are you playing with your mother’s clothes?”, he wanted to know.

“I’m sure she won’t mind!”, Betty said at once, her hands tightening around the box.

“Oh she’ll mind when you get stains on it.”

That hat had been expensive, paying not just for the craftsmanship or material, but double for the name.

She had been furious about the price, he remembered, but it had been worth it. They were moving up in the world, and that meant moving on beyond the little shops at the Bull Ring in Birmingham.

“I’ll take great care.”, Betty promised. “Goodbye now.”

With that, for her, the conversation was over.

Tommy shifted, glanced back at his office door and cleared his throat.

“I’ve got a few more papers to go through and then I can join you.”, he suggested. After all, he had hoped to spend some time with his children while their mother was away.

“Take out the horses, or the cart, how about that George?”

He could see it already, him and George driving that cart up and down the roads leading to and from Arrow House, with little darling Betty lounging beside them in one of her mother’s gigantic hats. That is, until she’d get the idea to jump on a pony’s back and try to outrace them.

To his surprise, George shook his head. “Perhaps some time else.”, Betty agreed.

That stung more than Tommy thought it would, and so he tried again.

“Why’s that then, eh?”, he wanted to know, cautiously coming closer.

“We’re very busy.”, his daughter said sharply. “Busy?”, Tommy asked as his brows threatened to vanish in his hairline.

“What have you two got to be busy about?”

George looked caught out and stared at his feet, but Betty was unfazed.

“Children’s matters, Daddy. You wouldn’t understand.”

With that, she turned, her hair and the ribbon that held it in place, fluttering behind her.

“Come along now Georgie.”, she instructed, and with that off they went, leaving Tommy alone in the hall.

He watched them leave and tried to ignore the ache in his chest as he returned to his office.

He knew he worked long and hard, but he did it to give them everything. Still, every single time his wife had reminded him he ought to spend more time with them, with his family, rattled around in his head, as memories of every event, excursion or trip he had cancelled his participation in came back to haunt him.

He was there, for every birthday, for Christmases and Easter, even if he occasionally slipped away to his office for some work, and almost every performance?

He taught to ride and how to care for horses.

He kissed them goodnight every time he could and didn’t shy away from embraces and hugs.

Still, what if it wasn’t enough to make up for all he had missed.

What of all the family memories they had acquired were less due to him and solely due to his wife? That picnic at the lake? That trip to the sea?

In truth, he had expected that with their mother away, the children would flock to him the way they did when he returned from work, wanting to spend as much time with him as they usually did with her.

He had thought he would have to distract them in order to get a few moments alone in the office and not that his seven year old would order his return there to be rid of him.

But perhaps his children had gotten so used to his absence that his presence no longer made a difference to him.

That idea hurt, and he wished more than ever to pick up that stupid telephone hearer and demand his wife be summoned to the other side. If he couldn’t feel the warmth of her hands and the softness of her embrace to soothe his worries, her voice alone would have to do.

Three days, eight hours and fourteen minutes.

No, he would try again, he thought and hurried outside.

The swing was empty, the trees void of all invaders, and the green without anyone playing croquet or catch or hoops or anything, really.

And when he’d ask a gardener, he was told that Betty and George had formed a procession all the way behind the hedge, stayed there for a moment, and then returned to the house the same way they had done.

“Well, not exactly, Sir.”, the gardener had told him, rubbing his sun-tanned forehead. “They took the servant’s entrance, they did.”

That was the one that didn’t go through the hall and thereby avoided passing his office.

Fuck, Tommy thought and lit a cigarette on the way back.

In the coming hours he couldn’t focus on the reports, the letters and papers. He couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that his children clearly and undoubtedly were avoiding him, and that at a time when they should have come running.

When Frances asked him if he would like to join his children at their dinner, a formality, since he usually tried to if he could, he declined.

After a whole case of cigarettes, his appetite was gone anyhow.

That made him feel like a coward.

He should talk to them, should try to do better, to make up for the lost time, but a debilitating weight had draped over his shoulders and the one person to lift it was still on a boat crossing the Atlantic.

Three days, four hours and two minutes.

She’d know what to do, how to fix it.

She always did, like with Georgie’s ear infections of Betty’s coughs, or his own headaches. From somewhere in the back of her mind and the depths of her cabinets, she’d find a magical cure to make things right.

But until she returned, he was all on his own and he had never felt lonelier.

When Frances told him the children were headed for bed, it was as if he had been called to his own execution.

He knew that feeling, had felt it more than once, so it wasn’t an exaggeration.

The night nursery was right next to their shared bedroom, something they had both wanted, for their children to be close.

When he entered, they were already tucked in, Betty on the right, Georgie on the left.

“All ready for bed?”, he asked.

Both nodded.

“Would you like a story?”, he asked, glancing over his shoulder to the bookshelf, his eyes lingering on the Tales of Robin Hood - Georgie’s favourite.

For a split second he saw a glint in his eyes, but then he slammed his jaw shut and shook his head.

“No thank you!”, Betty said, leaning forward and presenting her cheek to him.

With a sigh, Tommy leaned in and kissed her goodnight, proceeding to do the same with Georgie.

At the door, he turned, and looked back at them both who were watching with wide eyes, as if they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

“You know,”, he mumbled, his hands clutching the door knob until his knuckles turned white, as he tried to find the words.

It wasn’t too difficult, he thought, just tell them you love them, Tom

Whether it was his voice or his wife’s, he could not say.

But before the words had a chance to pass his lips, he heard a shuffle.

Then Betty was on her feet. “Right!”, she said loudly, giving him a gentle shove. “Goodnight, Daddy, goodnight!”

This insistence was new, and he didn’t know what to make of it, so he just stared.

Then he heard it again. The shuffle.

But it wasn’t coming from Georgie’s bed on the left, nor her now deserted bed on the right, but from the wardrobe across from it.

“What’s that?”, he asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

“What’s what?”, Betty asked, batting her eyelashes.

At the same time, Georgie said: “It’s nothing.”

When they realised what they had done, Betty blushed and Georgie paled.

Slowly, Tommy looked from one to the other. “You’ve got to the count of three to tell me what’s in there!”, he demanded, seriously considering if he could head back to his bedroom and reach for the bedside drawer to retrieve his gun.

Neither one of his children made a move to speak and so the three counts passed without a reaction.

“Daddy!”, Betty warned, tugging at his sleeve as he pushed past her and towards the wardrobe.

He opened it and was met with - clothes.

Betty’s dresses and skirts, all hanging in a neat, tidy row, an explosion of pastels and floral prints.

Then he heard it again, the shuffle and scratching and when he looked down, towards the boxes of shoes and hats, he noticed one large one atop a smaller one, the lid slightly ajar.

With one flick, he sent the lid flying, ready for anything.

“Fu-”

He caught himself just in time as he saw the content.

It was a dog, he realised after staring at it for a few heartbeats, even if it was in size far closer than a cat, and even smaller than one too, with pointed ears and dark, clear eyes.

He looked away, then down again, before turning to his children.

“Why -” the absolute fuck “is there a dog in your nursery?”

“Mummy!”, Georgie quickly said.

“Mummy?”, Tommy asked.

Georgie nodded, but he didn’t miss the way Betty stared at him in surprise.

That told him it was a lie, but Georgie went further.

“Daddy, you know Mummy doesn’t like the horses as much as we do, so we thought a dog will make her happy.”

Another lie, or rather an impressively tall tale to cover up, but it didn't change the fact that he was staring at a dog, small or not, who was very much alive and who's mere existence in this moment required a reaction.

Pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn't holding the box, he sat down on the foot of Georgie's bed and stared at the intruder.

"And instead of asking for a dog,", he sighed, "you two…nicked one? Stole one?"

He wouldn't put it past them. Georgie had the guts and Betty the wits to pull it off.

Made evident by the fact that they had snuck it past him for the devil knows how long.

"Oh don’t be silly Daddy,", Betty giggled. "There was no time to ask."

Wasn't there, Elizabeth Shelby? He wanted to ask, but Georgie came to his sister's defence.

"When I found him he was all wet and shaking and he crawled into my coat, right here!"

He rubbed his side where his upper arms brushed against the side of his torso.

"And when was that?", Tommy wanted to know, sounding as tired, old and helpless as he felt.

Georgie looked to Betty who gave a shrug of resignation.

"When we were at Uncle Charlie's. We were playing Coppers and Blinders and I found him tied up in one of the caves."

The pup wouldn't have been put there by Charlie or Curly.

Charlie had his faults, but he preferred animals to humans and Curly, well, he couldn't harm a fly even with a gun to his head.

And the caves, as Georgie called them, were the places they stored boxes of goods before sending them up it down the Cut.

But that time at Charlie's Yard had been two days ago.

"How has he not made a mess yet?", He asked, seriously hoping that they wouldn't stumble on a far worse surprise under a carpet or in the corner of a cupboard.

Then he realised - the hat box.

The children must've smuggled him in and out time and time again, right under his and all the servants' noses.

Betty sat down next to him, covering his hand with her little one, soft as rose petals.

"He's been so very good and he hasn't even disturbed you with barking, has he?", She asked, batting her eyelashes up at him. "No trouble at all."

Tommy sighed, already knowing where she was intent on going.

"You can't keep a dog in the nursery, Elizabeth."

Besides, he'd probably have lice or worms.

Fuck

If his wife came back from America and the children had lice, there’d be hell to pay.

Betty stroked his hand again.

“We’d be ever so sad if we’d have to give him away now.”, she told him. “We’d cry for days and days, won’t we Georgie?”

“I don’t cry!”, he argued, puffing up his chest.

And yet when his sister glared at him, he quickly shifted gears.

“But I-I would, if you’d make us give him up.”

That appeased his sister, who gave him a pleased nod before turning back to their father. “So either a sea of tears, Daddy, or we take one my prettiest ribbons and tie it around his neck and make Mummy the happiest Lady in the whole world when she comes back.”

Tommy rubbed his temple once more.

Although he was beyond relieved that he found the reason for his children’s shift in behaviour, this caused a whole host of problems.

He didn’t want a dog.

They didn’t need a dog. Besides, this wasn’t even a proper dog who could guard a house, chase away an intruder or catch a rabbit.

But he also knew that the threat of tears wasn’t just an empty promise.

Knowing Betty and her antics, she’d probably throw herself at her mother’s feet the moment she came into view, and that Georgie wouldn’t be far behind.

And as a betting man, he knew his way around odds.

“No.”, he said, looking from one to the other.

“What?”, Betty gasped, her large eyes filling with tears, while George erupted into a cascade of protests.

He raised his hands for silence, but struggled to get it, and when he did, both his children pouted.

“You’re not putting this on your mother.”, he said sharply, pointing at them both. “If you want this dog to stay, he will be your responsibility and you’ll take care of him. You will walk him. You will wash him. You will feed him and if he pisses on the floor, you will clean it up, is that understood?”

George nodded eagerly, but Betty hesitated. “But we will have help, no?”, she asked. “After all, he’ll have to go to the vet some time and Georgie and I can’t drive. And we aren’t allowed to touch the cleaning products either.”

Sneaky menace, Tommy thought, not without pride.

She had inherited his wits and his wife’s way with words and always found a loophole in absolutely anything, and she had caught him out once again.

He nodded.

Betty looked to Georgie, who was grinning from ear to ear and nodded eagerly.

Then, on behalf of them both, she spat into her palm and stretched it out to him, a triumphant smile on her lips.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed and as always I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Daer Mar, I hope you enjoyed this story! Once more congratulations on your milestone and celebration and all my best to you and your little friend!

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

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midnightswithdearkatytspb · 1 year

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MidnightsWithDearKatyTSPB’s Recommendation List: May Pt. 1

Welcome to the first part of the May recommendation list. I hope you have been working enough, with the semester coming to a close for those in school. Ensure you aren’t letting yourself go too crazy with finals and are coming up for air and self-care. If you would like a moodboard made for your story or character, please send me a request. I would love to make you one. If you are interested in having your writing challenges featured here, your stories, or even your blog, please feel free to tag me in your works, message me, or use the hashtag MidnightWithDearKatyTSPB. Heads up, June may be all on one list. I’m going to my Grandmother’s 90th birthday and visit my family. I’ll get plenty of reading done while I’m gone, but I don’t know how much list-making I’ll get done. I hope your spring is going well and allergies are leaving you alone.

<<April Pt. 2 💐

May Pt. 2✨>>

Masterlist 📜

I'll See You Again (Moodboard + One-Shot) >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Estella Shelby - Summary: Estella doesn’t want to let go of Tommy or her family.

BLURBS/DRABBLES:

Escape to Me by @daisyblinder >> Tommy Shelby x fem!reader - Summary/Request: The reader is autistic but masks a lot, so it's hidden, and Tommy can tell when they’re getting overwhelmed, so he sort of helps them out? | Found this very touching and wish to have a Tommy who would comfort them in those times of being overwhelmed.

Tommy Shelby + Hot Asshole Neighbor by @scorpiussage >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Were not always lucky when it comes to neighbors, or are we? (My Summary) | If Tommy were my neighbor, I would gladly like to hear how he would like to make it up to me. 😏

ONE-SHOTS:

And Her Name Is... by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: The children help come up with baby names. | I truly love this family!Tommy setting.

The Boys by @teenwolf-theoriginals >> Dad!Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: You get a call from the boys’ school, that later sparks a tense conversation between you and Tommy. | I love reading Tommy in a family setting and Charlie with more siblings. Happy to read this.

Close Your Eyes, Make A Wish by @look-at-the-soul >> Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader - Summary/Request: The reader could be having an extremely stressful day, and Tommy comes home to find her looking out their bedroom window, and he gives her a cuddle knowing it always calms her down. | I had a smile on my face the whole time I read this.

Enraptured by @toms-cherry-trees >> John Shelby x Reader - Summary: Gif Request - Sneak Preview: “Oh I see a lot that I like” That cheeky grin of his has not left his lips, and you want to kiss the arrogance out of him... | I love this so much, honestly. You can never get too much, John Shelby.

Mine by @toms-cherry-trees >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Gif Request - Sneak Preview: More often that he cared to admit, Tommy had pictured her with that fan in her hand and nothing else on her skin. | The ending took me by surprise, and it had me so giddy.

More Than Enough by @dandelionprints >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Sneak Peak: “Who have you heard say that? You tell me and I’ll send Arthur round to have a chat with them, no one talks about my wife like that!” | Fantastic job making me fall in love with Tommy Shelby all over again.

My Daughter. by @toomanyfandomsallatonce >> Tommy Shelby x F!Reader - Summary: One of the maids at Arrow house yells at your daughter for breaking a vase, and Tommy is extremely displeased when he finds out. | I have such a soft spot for Dad!Tommy Shelby.

Season's Change, People Don't by @shelbyssins >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary/Request - Sneak Preview: “What if you say no and regret it?” Tommy asked, his voice as soft as the breeze whispering over Y/n’s skin. | This was just perfect, perfect, absolutely perfect.

There's A Lot of Making Up To Do by @acewritesfics >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Y/N is Charlie's daughter. Her and Tommy grew up together and have always been close until she moved away to go be a nurse in London. But now she's back. | Sometimes, a way to a woman's heart is a horse and remembering their teenage dreams of said perfect horse.

Untitled by @padfootdaredmetoo >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: Sneak Peak: “You leave what’s mine alone. Now give my regards to Mr. Kimber.” He spat on them as John pulled him back; looking down at them, he wondered if they were dead. | This one-shot brings me joy and makes me want to cheer for Tommy Shelby.

Welcome Back Sweetheart. by @toomanyfandomsallatonce >> Tommy Shelby x F!Reader - Summary: You left Tommy before the war started, and now, years later, he found you again, and this time he won't let you run again. Especially not into the arms of your abusive husband. | When Tommy makes a promise, he keeps it.

Whatever You Say by @little-diable >> Tommy Shelby x fem!reader - Summary: The reader finds a book without a title in Tommy's office, and the more pages she flips, the more she starts to realize that it's a book filled with drawings of naked bodies. | Thank you for the porn with a plot. It was *chefs kiss* perfect.

SERIES:

1919 Pt. 1 | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | by @shelby-fangirl00 >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Jasmine Manson - Summary: Jasmine has lost almost everything in life except her Godmother, Polly, and the Shelby family. They are perhaps the only thing keeping her somewhat sane. She spends her days taking care of Finn and her nights living by the moon, reminiscing of old days with Tommy Shelby, wishing for him to come back to her to the way things were before the war. The thing is, the war has changed them both as they both have lost and changed so much in the four years they were apart. (my summary, sorry) | Loosely based on the series, and I'm loving what there is so far!

Night In January pt. 1 | Through The Window pt. 2 | Only Joys Will Come pt. 3 | by @evita-shelby >> Tommy Shelby x Reader - Summary: I ride on the January, which leads to a life-changing decision and Shelby family tradition. (My Summary) | I loved the emotions this touches on and how you can picture it happening in the series.

Welcome To Downtown, Mr. Shelby | Chapter 9 | by @notyour-valentine >> Tommy Shelby x OFC!Crawley - Summary: He was born on a boat, with neither of his parents sure of the date after the fact, unregistered and unlisted until he went to fight for his country. Her birth had been celebrated with the ringing of church bells, champagne toasts, and announcements in newspapers on both sides of the Atlantic. Their worlds could not have been more different, and perhaps that was why, when Thomas Shelby looked at Lady Charlotte Crawley, he saw more than her title, more than her looks- he saw an opportunity. | I look forward to reading more, and I love how you combine both universes. I know I said that last time Val, but you always blow my mind with your ability to do so.

PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS:

BLURBS/DRABBLES:

Games by @psychedelic-ink >> bodyguard!Joel Miller x actress!reader - Summary: Joel is fed up with your bratty behavior. | 🥵 🥵 🥵 Can be read alone or read its sequel High Enough.

Skinny Dipping by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Sneak Peak - "there," he says softly, reaching out his hand for you to take hold of, pulling you further into the water and closer to him. "feels nice, don't it?" | I’d skinny-dip any day with Joel Miller if it were anything like this.

Snack Break by @joelscruff >> boyfriend's dad!Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Joel needs you to be quiet. | Cocky!Joel telling you to enjoy your snack does things to me.

ONE-SHOTS:

At His Side (In His Bed) by @proxima-writes >> mand’alor!Din Djarin x female reader x Paz Vizsla - Summary: They call you the whore of Mandalore. Nothing more than the woman at the side of the ruler of New Mandalore, Din Djarin, a pretty little prize that he likes to share with his General Commander, Paz Vizsla. Mandalorians have always been good at keeping their secrets. | It's hot, and if you are like me, you'll surely love the ending.

High Enough by @psychedelic-ink >> Dieter Bravo x actress!reader x bodyguard!Joel Miller - Summary: An afterparty, weed, drinks, a grumpy bodyguard, and an eccentric actor. What can go wrong? | I think that was one of the hottest things I’ve ever read. 🥵🔥

In Her Defense by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: An unexpected attack. A protective instinct. A heartfelt exchange. (The reader steps in when a stranger tries it with Ellie, and Joel is a guilt-ridden sad boy about it.) | This was a lovely one-shot; I'm so glad I read it!

*I've Shattered Now by @wannab-urs >> Dieter Bravo x Reader - Summary: Continuation of A Ghost of You (but can be read separately). Dieter dies, and you have to learn to live without him. | I’m not crying like a big baby. Nope, I promise. This was so beautifully written, and I would read it repeatedly. Please read all TW.

*Old Soul by @softlyspector >> Joel Miller x f!Reader - Summary: You're never quite sure of your place in Joel's life. Everyone else seems to know exactly what it is. | This whole work is dark yet beautiful, honestly, and I love it.

Say It With Your Hands by @swiftispunk >> Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: Ellie convinces Joel to see the town masseuse. It goes mostly okay. | That was so hot 🥵 Hannah, thank you for sharing this with us.

*Seasons by @loquaciousferret >> Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader - Summary: One scene for each season of the year of your relationship as you fall in love with Joel Miller, single dad, and sweet southern heartthrob. | The best slow-burn and sweet porn I've read features Joel Miller. I adored it.

Toyin' With Them Older Guys by @proxima-writes >> bartender!Joel Miller x female!reader - Summary: Joel Miller is the grumpy bartender and owner of your favorite bar near campus, where you attend trivia every Tuesday night. Thinking there’s no way Joel could return your feelings, your friend suggests trying out Tinder. But when you bring them to the bar for a date, they leave mid-date without explanation. Maybe there’s something Joel isn’t telling you after all. | This was hot and, dare I say, adorable.

Weakness by @pedgeitopascal >> Joel Miller x female reader - Summary: An afternoon at Bill and Frank’s takes an unexpected turn for you and Joel when some feelings start coming to the surface. | The last line of this just sums this up so perfectly and beautifully…. I love it.

STORIES:

Apothecary | Chapter 4 | by @atinylittlepain >> Joel Miller x witchy!reader - Summary: Joel becomes curious about the woman running the medicine shop in Jackson, and the strange rumors swirling around her. | I know there is still more to come, and I look forward to what is in store for them.

Burning Hour by @juletheghoul >> Din Djarin x Royal F!Reader - Summary: Din Djarin is the captain of your father - the king's royal guard and, as such, is tasked with protecting you. When you leave a child and come back a woman, he sees you in a different light- but he isn’t the only one with his eye on you. Can a Princess and her Knight find a way to be together? | This story is so good! And the plot twist that you don't see coming! It blew my mind and made me love this story even more. I'm not sure which part I loved the most the vows, the porn, or the plot twist. I highly recommend you read this.

In My Hometown Series | Come Back, Be Here | by @swiftispunk >> neighbour!dbf!Joel Miller x fem!afab!actor(ish)!reader (+ platonic!Tommy and platonic!Sarah - Summary: Joel reckons with life in Austin after you return to LA | It's hot, but this series period is hot. It's one of my all-time favorite Joel Miller series here on Tumblr, and Hannah does amazing writing, Joel and reader.

One For The Money, Two For The Show by @cowgurrrl >> rockstar!Joel Miller x actress!reader - Summary: When world-famous rockstar Joel Miller finds himself in some hot water with the press, his PR team suggests fake dating an up-and-coming actress to refine his image. However, when they actually start spending time together, the happy couple can’t stand each other. Will they be able to turn it around for the cameras, or will it all be for nothing? | I LOVE THIS SERIES! If I were the reader, I would be screaming into my pillows about Joel Miller and his stupid face.

Raider by @toxicanonymity >> raider!Joel Miller x fem!reader - Summary: You think Joel is saving you from the bad guys, but he's just claiming you for himself. You're his now, and he won't let you or his men forget it. Better be a good girl for him. It's for your own good, sweet pea. | It's both a perfect amount of dark and porn. If you like dark!Joel look no further.

True Blue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | by @beskarandblasters >> Joel Miller x OC!Hannah - Summary: Joel has lived most of his life with little emotional attachments, especially romantic attachments. He was satisfied with only having his brother, Tommy, and his friend, Tess. That is until Hannah moves to the Boston QZ from Hartford, Connecticut QZ after the military control there collapses, and Joel questions everything he thought he knew about love, trust, and loyalty. | I look forward to seeing where this goes because this has me sucked in, and it’s very good!

*Uneven Odds by @theetherealbloom >> Joel Miller x Fem!Reader - Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written? | You want to cry, scream, and laugh all throughout. It’s a must-read for fans of the television series and Joel Miller.

Untitled pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | by @pascalisbaby >> neighborhood!dbf!Joel Miller x fem!reader - Summary: after two years of fantasizing about your neighbor, Joel, he finally gives you what you’ve been dying for. | This series is just so good! Please read it.

TRIPLE FRONTIER:

ONE-SHOTS:

Take Care of You by @musings-of-a-rose >> Benny Miller x f!reader - Summary/Request: Here is my Benny idea. He gets worried about his baby working nights. The reason why he takes her to and from work. Go out to their favorite hangout for a late dinner. Then spoil her as soon they get home. | Buddles, that is so cute, and yes, I could use some myself.

Pedro Pascal characters as Taylor Swift albums by @swiftispunk

Tommy Shelby Moodboard by @raincoffeeandfandoms

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sneakyblinders · 1 year

Text

Father’s Advice

A/N: told from Tommy & his beloved wife’s (my AU I’ve created for myself, it’s rather self indulgent <3) oldest son, Peter’s, POV. Please enjoy. <3 warnings: fluff. Dad!Tommy. not canon. sorry not sorry. Word count: 2k I do not take credit for the GIF. I just think this is how he would look during the office conversation. :)

My breath hitched in my throat as I stepped over the threshold of the back door, silently praying to whatever gods were still awake at this hour that the small creak in the door wouldn’t wake my mothers dogs up. After I shut the door behind me I was promptly shoved against it, a blade at my throat.

My eyes strained through the dark to notice my attacker. My mother. My body relaxed when I saw her eyes. She breathed a sigh of relief, unpinning me from the wall and re-harnessing her blade in her skirts. “Peter Shelby!” she scolded me, trying to keep her voice down in fear of waking my siblings up.

“Mother, why would you do that?” I asked, breath still ragged from my near encounter with death.

“You know your father is away in London on business tonight and I cannot sleep without him. Especially with the baby.” she rubbed her stomach, round with my youngest sibling. Baby number five. She’d been uncomfortable for weeks now, this one giving her a terrible time. She’d cursed my father on multiple occasions, telling him he was never to come within six feet of her with anything less than suit pants and a dinner jacket on. He smirked.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I said, looking her in the eyes.

“Where have you been?” she asked, narrowing those dark, big eyes at me.

“Nowhere, Mother.”

“Nonsense, Peter, you’ve barely tucked yourself back into your pants. You are your fathers son, I swear.” she muttered, turning towards the kitchen. I could feel heat in my cheeks as I heard my fathers words the first time this had happened. Your mother knows these things, Peter.

She looked back at me, expectantly, motioning for me to follow her. I could faintly smell bread and my mouth began to water at the prospect of a fresh slice with Irish butter spread on it. Her favorite nighttime snack, a trait she graciously has passed on to each of her children.

She silently cut me a slice while I sat at the table. “Who is she?” she asked, handing me the slice of bread and sliding the butter across the small, round table towards me. I chewed the inside of my cheek. “And there’s no sense in lying to me, Peter. You’re sixteen, I understand these things but sneaking around at night is not the way to do it.” I shoveled a piece of bread in my mouth, eager to not have this conversation. “Fine, if you won’t speak to me about her, you’ll bring her to dinner tomorrow night.”

I choked. Coughing, I managed to sputter out, “Tomorrow? Won’t father be home tomorrow?”

She smiled deviously. “Yes. And he’ll want to talk to you about this first thing in the morning so head to bed. Be ready to speak to him in his office first thing after breakfast.”

I groaned as I trudged up the steps to my room.

The next morning, the nanny, Sara, woke me up. “Good morning, Mr. Peter.” she said gently, opening my curtains, light spreading into my room. I could hear my siblings in the bathroom down the hall fighting over who got to wash their face first and rolled my eyes.

I got ready as slowly as I could manage, barely tying my tie just to spite my mother. She hates when I do that.

My father was just getting up from the table, when I arrived down in the dining room, newspapers spread across the table. “Tie your tie properly, Peter. You know how your mother hates how that looks.” he said sternly, straightening his waistcoat.

“Thomas!” I heard my mother call from the back of the house, somewhere near the pantry. I heard them discussing something about needing more lard or flour or salt as I finished tying my tie.

“Yes, my love, I will make sure Frances gets it when she goes to the market today, no need to get so upset about salt.” I could hear him comforting my mother. Her emotions were thrown every which way with this child.

As stern as my father is with his children, the moment my mother needed an inkling of softness, he turned to putty in her hands. He had her wrapped in his arms, swaying her gently in the kitchen while Frances and Sara bustled around them trying to get the rest of dinner ready. “It’s alright, darling, you just didn’t sleep last night, that’s all.” he told her. She looked at him, face streaked with tears. “Don’t cry anymore, beautiful girl.” he wiped a tear from her chin with his thumb, before swiping it on the back of his thigh, on his suit pants.

“Your shirt, I’m sorry.” she laughed softly, sniffing, noticing the stains of tears on his shirt.

“It’s alright, it’s alright. It’ll dry. Go rest, my love. I will wake you up when it’s time for lunch, yeah?” he told her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Okay,” she nodded, reaching up on her toes to kiss his lips. “I’m glad you’re home safe.”

He smiled softly at her, a hand on her belly. “Me too, Darling.”

After my mother was on her way up the steps to their quarters, my father returned to the table to retrieve his paper. “I’ll be waiting for you in my office after you are finished with your breakfast, Peter.” he told me, eyes as cold as ice.

“Yes, father.” I said, not wanting to meet his gaze.

My siblings bounded down the steps, two at a time. “Daddy!” Isabel, my youngest sister shouted when she saw him.

“Good morning, bug!” he smiled at her, arms open as she ran to him.

“How was London?” William, my younger brother asked, jumping on his back as he was bent over to hug Isabel.

“It was wonderful. Got to talk to loads of lovely people.” he said, reaching around his back to tickle William’s sides. William loosed his grip and slid down his back, sliding to the floor with a thump. Katherine stood to the side of the younger two, waiting her turn to hug our father. “There’s my lovely girl.” he smiled at her, reaching for a hug. “Children, listen,” their eyes got round, listening with anticipation. “Your mother needs lots of rest today. The baby has been giving her fits and she didn’t sleep very much last night, so she needs to catch up on rest today. So please listen to your tutors and don’t give Sara or Frances fits after your lessons are done, alright? Your mother is not to be disturbed. I have business today and if I’m interrupted I won’t be happy, okay?” They all nodded their heads. “After dinner, I have some presents from London for you.” They gasped in excitement. “Now, go eat your breakfast.”

He ascended up the steps to his office. My heart sank into my chest as I heard his heavy wooden doors of his office slam shut.

I gathered enough courage after the last of my eggs were washed down to walk up the steps and face my father. I knocked on the door, and I heard a grunt from the other side. I opened the door. Father sat behind his monstrosity of a desk with papers and books strewn about in every direction.

“Good morning, son.” he said, not looking up from his paperwork. “One moment, just trying to get these figures to add up right. Your mother usually does this, I’m a little out of practice so it takes me a little longer. Sit down.” he said, brow scrunched together as his pencil scribbled figures furiously.

I sighed as I sank down into the plush leather chair across from him. He sighed, sitting back in his chair and removing his glasses. “Got it,” he smiled to himself, taking a cigarette from his desk drawer and lighting it. “Alright now, tell me about last night.”

“Father,” I tried to protest but he cut me off, raising his hand.

“Peter. I was sixteen once, I remember.”

“So I don’t have to tell you?” I asked, already confused.

His eyes bore holes into my soul, ice in his gaze. Everything about my father was cold. He was always cold, complaining his hands or feet were freezing. Never showing too much positive emotion around us. He never volunteered too much information about himself, leaving us all questioning who our father was on a regular basis. Until I got older I never understood if it was done because he didn’t quite understand how to interact with children, or if he thought we wouldn’t understand him. I think it was a little of both.

If my father was ice, my mother was fire. Warm in every sense of the word. Her eyes, dark and knowing, always cast a loving gaze, even if she was violently angry. She was always twenty degrees warmer than everyone else in the house, fanning herself with any scrap paper that was lying around. Often father would trade her pieces of paper that were lying around on his desk as he needed them.

But they loved each other very much, despite all of the ways they were different. He often told me of how my mother made him a better man every day they were together. Once I had threatened, with no real intention behind it, to kill my mother after I learned she was pregnant with the twins, Isabel and William. My father, who was half drunk at the time, told me that if anything were to happen to his wife, he would be even more unbearable than he already was. The thought scared me so bad I never mentioned any more murderous thoughts about my mother.

“Of course you still have to tell me.” my father chuckled, pulling me from my daze. “At least you’re not having to admit all of these things to Aunt Polly like I did.” he told me, eyebrows raised.

“I am thankful for that.” I admitted to him before spilling my guts about Sophie. My girl. By the time I had told him about sneaking off in the middle of the night and her crawling down the lattice of her house to meet in our barns to kiss, I told him. “I feel about her the way you feel about Mother.”

His eyebrows shot up, as he puffed out smoke from his nostrils. “That’s a rather strong sentiment, son.” He took another pull on his cigarette as I tried to justify my words, stammering and tripping over every word I managed to utter. “I believe you, though.”

“What?” I asked, confused again.

“Peter, your mother and I love quite hard, and I am afraid, my son, that you have inherited a double portion of that from us.” I looked down at my hands. “Bring her to dinner tonight. Go collect her properly,” his eyes got intense. “Pick her some flowers from the garden, ask her father’s permission,” my father rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe I’m telling you this, I sound just like Polly.”

“She had this conversation with you?” I asked, ears peaking at the opportunity to hear a story from him. My father is a marvelous storyteller when he gets the gumption to launch into a story.

“Oh yes,” he leaned back in his chair, taking another drag on his cigarette. “About your mother.” a smile spread on his face. “Yes, son, bring her to dinner tonight.”

“Yes, father.”

“And don’t run around late at night with her, it’s not proper and you scare your mother half to death!” he wagged his finger at me.

“It won’t happen again.” I promised him.

“Better not.” he grumbled. “Very well. Off to your lessons, son.”

“Have a good day, father.” I told him.

“See you at dinner, son. Don’t be late.” I could feel him smirking as I left his office.

After following my fathers advice, I brought Sophie to dinner.

Three years later I would bring her to dinner to announce our engagement.

And four years after that to announce our firstborn.

Sometimes father does have the best advice.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x oc #sneakyblinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #dad!tommy shelby

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evita-shelby · 2 years

Note

I love all of your work. I keep trying to imagine dad tommy from fic where his little girl comes home declaring she's got a boyfriend, and him panicking because she's like 6 and he can't scare the little boy without having his wife (the reader) chewing his head for it.

Omg thank you 😊

Okay for context, Florence was born in 1929 and is reader and Tommy’s youngest child (and his favorite of all four).

And i felt the prompt went better by being from Tommy's pov to focus more on Tommy and Florence’s relationship.

Other shelby children: Charlie and Gabriel (the Shelby Boys) and Diane (Diane Elizabeth)

Six years old

Gif by @samcoving

"Who's your new friend, Flora?" Tommy asked his youngest as he kissed the top of her head and then took his place at the head of the dinner table.

Frankly, Tommy thought it wholly unnecessary that they were using the large dining room they use to host gatherings instead of the more private family dining room.

But Florence Eleanor Shelby had demanded a dinner party for tonight, so he dressed for dinner and promised his wife not to overreact when he learned why.

A promise his wife had bet three shillings he'd break before the first course.

"My boyfriend." She beamed at him.

It took everything in him not to spit the water he had been drinking. He was going to need a drink, but Y/N had a strict don't drink in front of the children or I'll have your guts for garters, or so help me God, Thomas Michael Shelby policy.

"Hello, sir, I'm Andrew Roberts, pleasure to meet you." The little boy said courteously and waited until Tommy acknowledged him to resume eating.

Because in the pantomime that is life, his little girl attached herself to the son of Billy Kimber’s accountant.

Can't scare the boy, can't be rude or else Roberts will see it as a provocation, so he acts like this is just another friend his favorite child has brought over.

"I'm gonna marry him, daddy." Six-year old Florence tells him and you make it worse by indulging her in this fantasy.

The last thing he wants is for one of his children to marry young like his parents and the John did.

"But the girl is six," his wife’s says, "you're worrying for nothing."

"You're wrong, love," he tells her later once the dinner is over.

Six turns to eleven and she and Andrew remain thick as thieves.

She was bold, bolder than her best friend, the Princess Margaret, and Andy Roberts is shy and cautious like Tommy can assume his father was.

Calls him her boyfriend still, and he reminds Y/N that its way past being a phase.

"They're children, Tom" she shakes her head even as she does some last minutes things on the children's matching costumes.

Eleven turns to sixteen and Andrew nervously asks him for permission to ask Florence to a dance.

He has a shotgun on his lap when he gives the teenage boy his answer.

Florence locks herself in her room in tears and his wife shakes her head. "There's no harm in a dance. If you don't let her go, she'll just escape through the window and steal the car again."

So he listens to his wife and the next morning he apologized to his daughter and made her promise she wouldn't do anything stupid.

Sixteen turns to twenty three and they've been featured in everything from Tabloids to Time Magazine as the United Kingdom's entrepreneurial power couple.

Florence had invited them to a dinner party at her place in Mayfair. She had news and she had made him swear on the lives of his five grandchildren (by his three older children) not to overreact.

"Mummy, Daddy, I invited you today because Andy and I have news." She's nervous, but doesn't show it. His little girl had taken over the family businesses (the legal ones)and blossomed into a strong, independent and beautiful woman like her mother.

He knew what was coming.

Thomas Shelby had cornered Andrew Roberts after he bought the engagement ring.

But Roberts had sworn him to secrecy until the tine was right.

"Out with it, girl, your mother's not getting any younger." He tries to lighten the mood at the cost of his wife subtlely kicking him ubder the table.

"We're getting married!" They try to say it in unison, but nervous Andrew had said it first.

"You knew, Tommy?" his wife asked him suprised.

"Known since she was six."

#tommy and florence #florence shelby #reader is a side character #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy is a good dad #dad!tommy #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x wife!reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

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pirateprincessblog · 2 months

Text

in vino veritas

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: hongjoong loves art, wine, and pretty girls. how convenient that on the opening night of his art gallery, as he sips his red wine, his eyes land on you. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dilf!hongjoong x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!hongjoong, bratty!reader, artist!hongjoong 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, oral (m receiving), toys, gagging, hint of ddlg

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: divorced parent child, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i always write the reader as inexperienced or innocent, this time i'm trying a different approach hehe hopefully it works!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔,

𝒊 𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔. 𝒏𝒐 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒅, 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉. 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒍𝒖𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒓.

𝒌𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈.

it is a challenge to find an outfit appropriate for the evening. you do not wish to go, not since your mother has made it clear she is going only for mr kim. your father, as his best friend since childhood, would be there, and your mother couldn't pass the opportunity to continue her game of jealousy since their separation.

"bold of you to assume that mr kim will even lay his eyes on you." you comment, passing by her room and glancing at her outfit choice. a red dress shorter than her knees with a low neckline. a classic. funnily enough, she used the very same dress to separate your father's then girlfriend from him and took him for herself. she is your mother, but you don't close your eyes at her mistakes. "besides, you're not twenty anymore. that dress doesn't look flattering at all. it's not age appropriate."

"god, just like your father. insults, insults-"

"oh, so when i kiss your ass i am like you, but when i disagree with you, i am like my father? how lovely."

"go to your room and get dressed."

"why do i have to go? you're the one who's trying to get dicked down toni-"

"go to your room!"

defeated, you groan and slam your door shut, then throw yourself on the bed. even with your head buried under your pillows, you still hear her obnoxious voice.

"and don't talk back to me! you've become very rude, and i will not have you embarrass me in front of our friends there! especially not in front of hongjoong."

you don't remember mr kim. you only know that he had a wife, that she also cheated, much like your mother, and since then he only travels and creates art wherever he goes. ever since you got the invitation, you've been trying to find out how he looks now. but all he posts on his social media is the destinations he's visiting, food and sneak peeks of his art. not even a glimpse of him in any picture. come to think of it, your mother's standards are pretty high. your father had your school friends coming over to your house just for him, you can only imagine what mr kim looks like.

deciding on a simple short sweater dress and knee high boots, you put your coat on and head into the autumn evening. your mother trails behind, having difficulties with walking in such high heels. you don't wait, still angry about her plan involving your poor father and an innocent man.

it is only seven in the evening, and something tells you that you'll be here for a very long time. at least midnight. on the bright side, you'll finally see your father. and meet the mystery man behind all the artwork you've been admiring. he doesn't post much of it, but what you've seen, it's pretty damn amazing.

"dad!" you spot him as soon as you enter the crowded space, your father with his recognizable thomas shelby outfit and a glass of whiskey in his hand. you hug him, tight as always, and subconsciously smell him. tobacco, whiskey, and vanilla. home.

"hey, kid." he returns the hug, a little less tight than yours as to not hurt you. "oh you smell great! that the new perfume i got you?"

"oh, i absolutely love it. i bathe in it every day."

"i'm so glad you like it." he gently ruffles your hair, enough to show affection but to not mess it up completely. "now, where's ursula?"

"very mature, calling your ex wife a cartoon villain. what, i put on a few pounds, so what?"

"it's not about the pounds, and you know it."

you turn your head away from your mother, hiding the laugh that is threatening to escape. but she catches the way your father winks your way, and claps her hands, causing a few heads to turn.

"a father and daughter teaming up on her mother. lovely. if you love him more than me, why don't you go live with him?"

you finally look at her, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. "you threatened to hurt yourself if you saw me exit the house with a suitcase. you guilt tripped me, called yourself an awful mother and whatnot. what are you on about?"

defeated, she tries to push the glass of whiskey out of your father's hand, and when failing to do so, she groans and stomps down the gallery hall. and yet she calls you two mature sarcastically.

"i truly hope she finds someone crazy enough to handle her, just so you can finally move out and have a life of your own. is she giving you a hard time?"

"i can handle her. usual guilt tripping and nagging, nothing new. how was your trip?"

your father happily tells you all about his recent trip to spain and france, which was mr kim hongjoong's gift to him for birthday. he went on and on about all the food he tried, all the buildings and art he saw, and how fun and informed about everything mr kim was.

"he knew so much that i was ashamed to be walking with him sometimes. i didn't know the difference between baroque and rococo. hell, i didn't know what rococo even was. i'm definitely taking you to see la sagrada familia on my next week off."

"sounds great, dad."

"listen, i'm gonna go find the restroom, too much whiskey," he whispers, "you feel free to walk around and watch. if you see something you like, i'll ask hongjoong for the price and i'll get it for you."

you look at him with a scoff, but when you see that he is dead serious, you raise your eyebrows. "what? you'd buy an art piece worth thousands of pounds?"

"family discount," he winks at you once again, then disappears into the crowd.

"a drink, madam?" someone says next to you.

your eyes land on the tray with glasses of red and sparkling wine, the person holding it dressed in a simple white dress shirt and black slacks, hair slicked back and white gloves on his hands.

"no thanks, i don't drink."

he nods understandingly, then continues his journey towards the arriving guests. you were never one to buy art. well, you weren't exactly one to be really into it. you see a picture, a sculpture or something similar, you think it's neat. do you go out of your way to find out the artist, or search for more? not quite. but walking down the waxed floor under the rich chandeliers and looking at the massive paintings, you might get into it. finally, something that is not minimalism or some picasso-wannabe shit. stunning golden frames, detailed paintings, and harmony of colours on canvas. all of it put together so perfectly, as if it was brought back from the times of renaissance and not painted in an atelier just outside of town earlier this year.

"drink?"

"i said no already, thanks." you reply, not bothering to look at the person.

"just a sip? to loosen up. you look rather stiff."

you turn your head towards the voice, confused as to why the waiter is persistent. but next to you stands a well dressed man, two glasses of red wine in his hands. he wears black slacks, a tight black turtleneck, and a long black coat. his eyes are pools of honey under the yellow chandeliers, and his hair shiny streaks of gold. he looks breath taking, and you almost thank your mother for dragging you here.

he holds the wine glass for you to take, and you do so. he raises his own towards you, then takes a sip of it, not once breaking eye contact with you. you bring yours to your lips, and the alcohol barely touches them before you move it away. you were never a fan of alcoholic drinks. they tasted awful, and brought out the worst in you. you don't want to embarrass your father tonight. or yourself in front of this gorgeous looking man.

"you've spent quite some time looking at this. admiring the work or surprised at the nudity?"

you scoff, looking at the painting again. gradually going down the hall, the art becomes less art and more erotica. how disappointing. "not admiring, that's for sure."

"oh? how so?" he asks, intrigued.

"well, for starters, very unrealistic. such big breasts and such a tiny waist? has that hongjoong ever seen a woman in his life?"

he laughs along with you, taking another sip of his wine. "i heard he paints with live models, so i'm guessing that this woman really exists somewhere."

"alright, i'll let you have that one. what about this? very inaccurate." you walk over to the next painting, pointing out all the things you were dissatisfied with.

"even an art critic isn't this harsh. it's just art, at the end of the day. an artist's way of escaping and creating his own world to get lost in. nothing wrong with that, right? writers and readers have books, gamers have games, chefs have cooking and baking, and artists have art."

"well, if the artist is an old pervert and all his inspiration comes from naked women, then sure. nothing wrong with that."

after a few moments of silence, you look over at him. he stares at the painting, puzzled. you clear your throat, sensing the awkward air enveloping you both. "i would love to continue this conversation, but if i stay i will only become meaner and accidentally insult you, and i certainly wouldn't want that. i'm passionate when it comes to me being right and proving others wrong."

you give him the glass of wine back with a sour grin, and he returns a scoff of disbelief. "charming."

"wasn't trying to be."

and with that, you leave him standing with two glasses of wine again, just like he approached you. you visit the restroom too, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. all the women are gorgeous tonight, wearing classy dresses and heels, and suddenly you feel underdressed.

"oh my god, your boots are so cool!" as if she heard your overthinking, the girl behind you exclaims. "where did you get them?"

"uh, i think it was a sale at zara. very uncomfortable though, i don't recommend." you reply with a laugh.

"that's okay, they look so pretty it's worth it. anyways, love your makeup." then, she exits the restroom.

you look at your boots, plain black with a chunky heel and over the knees. nothing special about them. still, you appreciate the compliment.

it doesn't take long for you to find your father again, this time in front of a sculpture of, again, a half naked woman. how odd.

"there you are! found anything?"

"no," you reply dryly, and refrain yourself from nasty comments because of his friends.

"well, that's a shame. hongjoong, this is my daughter i've been telling you about."

your heart drops when you hear his name, and then drops a little lower when your eyes lock with the familiar brown ones you just abandoned further down the hall.

"oh, i've had the pleasure," he responds, not looking surprised like you. "an informed young woman, for sure."

so much for embarrassing yourself. if he is offended, he doesn't show it. he only extends his hand as a formal greeting, and when you offer him yours to shake, he turns it over and kisses the top of it. you are baffled, unable to do or say anything. you look over at your father, who doesn't blink an eye to the unusual situation you've found yourself in. mr kim releases your hand, but not before holding eye contact with you just a few seconds longer.

"ah, right, hongjoong is a gentleman. also, if you didn't already notice, he loves women. not like that, of course. they're just-"

"they are my biggest muse. this world's biggest and prettiest treasure."

"charming," you repeat his word from earlier.

he smirks, teasingly. you want to slap the smirk off his face. he adjusts the sleeves of his turtleneck, rolling them up to his elbows and showing off his forearms. it is only then that you notice he isn't wearing the coat anymore, and you have the freedom of shamelessly staring at his body. his forearms are big, painted with bulging veins. the turtleneck hugs his waist and chest perfectly, to the point of slightly showing the outline of his abs. he isn't bulky, but built like a greek statue. he holds himself so elegantly, not bothered what anyone has to say about his work. it's a shame, because you still have a lot to say, regardless of how hot and bothered you are for him at the moment.

"ah, let me just clarify something. in case someone thinks that i'm just an old pervert..." he discreetly glances at you, making your jaw drop slightly, "...all these women have come to me and asked to be painted or sculpted. i have never once asked a woman to undress for me, nor did i sexualize her when she did so herself. i see art, not porn material."

your father seems offended that someone could have made such an assumption. little did he know that the culprit was the young woman right next to him, hiding behind his glass of wine.

"say, hongjoong, how does that work? do i have to send you an e-mail? or just show up at your door?"

if you thought that the situation couldn't get more awkward, your mother decided to prove you wrong.

"mom!" you scold, pink spreading on your cheeks as you look at the people surrounding you.

"what? why wouldn't i want to be painted by such a handsome-"

"unfortunately, at the moment i do not take any commissions. the gallery is my priority."

and just like that, mr kim shuts her down. he spares her no glance, in respect towards your father, or simply because he is disgusted by such an idea and behaviour. he is not stupid, that you notice. he seems to know the difference when someone genuinely wants to be painted, and when someone tries to take advantage of the situation and expects something from him.

as the night goes, you notice that kim hongjoong isn't old like you called him. he is your father's age, sure, but he aged like fine wine. it takes a lot of staring and concentration to notice a few gray strands of hair cleverly hidden among the golden brown ones. you notice that he doesn't talk much. he lets the people around him talk, and only engages when they have a question about a work of his.

you also notice his hands. his fingers, specifically. you can't help but imagine his fingers dipped in clay, shaping it the way his mind intended, his focused gaze and messy hair. you wish to see him at work, at least once in your life. just to satisfy your imagination. because to make a move with a man of that age is just absurd, and disrespectful towards your father. and himself. he just said that he doesn't do it for sexual purposes, and you were almost offering him the same thing as your mother.

awful.

you glance at him one more time, and when you find him already staring at you with an intense gaze, you take it as your cue to leave. a look of hatred, curiosity or lust, you didn't know. you only knew that you felt nervous under his stare, sweat emerging on your skin and stomach turning from fear that he read your mind and caught you thinking about him inappropriately.

"it's a bit late, i'll excuse myself."

"oh, already?" your father asks, planting a kiss on your temple. "i suppose it is quite late. do you need me to walk you back home?"

"no, that's fine. you guys have fun though. oh, mr kim."

mr kim looks at you, surprised that you're addressing him after all night of avoiding his gaze. "yes?"

"wonderful works, truly. thank you for the invite." it's the least you can do after shamelessly shitting on his work in front of him.

"why, thank you. i appreciate it, especially coming from my best friend's daughter. let me walk you to the door."

and you don't get a say in it. your father practically pushes you into his best friend, who skillfully grabs your waist and restores your balance. your breathing seems to stop the few seconds he holds you, grip secure and manly on your body. when he releases you, it feels empty. you wish to be held again, manhandled, thrown around, anything by him.

"listen, i'm sorry for what i said." you say, walking towards the door and keeping up with him.

"mhm," he hums, as if it's not a big deal.

"no, really, i just..."

"it's fine." he says, holding your coat in the air for you.

"i sometimes speak before i think," you put one arm in the sleeve, "and i end up hurting someone or embarrassing myself."

"it's really fine." he says, tone calm and low. he helps your other arm in the sleeve, then, as if he knew your newfound weak spot, he places his hands on your waist and turns you towards him. only now, you are so determined to apologize to him that you don't even notice what he is doing.

"in this case, i did both. mr kim, please, accept my apology." he adjusts the collar of the coat, then buttons it up.

"i told you, it's fine." he is persistent.

you are a babbling mess, trying to correct the image of yourself he has created in his head, which couldn't possibly be good. after all, mr kim hongjoong is way too hot to have a bad opinion about you. you continue speaking, and he continues adjusting your clothes. it is not until he firmly grabs your jaw in his big warm hand that you shut your mouth. you look at him, almost startled, and gulp.

"i appreciate honest opinion. you are the only one who didn't kiss my ass tonight, and i appreciate it more than all the compliments i've gotten. so trust me when i say that it is fine. don't ever apologize for your opinions, you're not that kind of girl."

"what kind of girl do you think i am?"

he smirks, then rubs your cheek with his thumb as he brings your face closer to his. "not a good one, that's for sure."

the words shoot arrows to your core, and you suddenly feel hotter than the hottest summer day. you exhale shakily, not knowing what to do with yourself. he looks satisfied with the reaction you gave him, and decides to finally stop teasing.

"watch the road when crossing." he sends you a playful wink, then opens the door for you.

"thank you," you manage to say, and only nod his way before making your way down the street into the chilly autumn night.

the more time you spend with your father, the more you keep hearing about the artist who won't leave your mind anyway. from his stories, mr kim has been spoiling him rotten. no wonder he isn't home anymore. sitting on your father's porch on his swinging chair and taking in the last rays of sunshine before the harsh winter, you can't help but ask about the mystery man.

"how come he's your childhood best friend but i've only met him that evening?"

"well, you were young. you didn't pay any attention to things that aren't crushes, school and gossip."

"wow."

"it's true. you were just a kid, then a teen. and hongjoong wasn't around much during the day. then, he met ramona and moved with her to a different town. and then, while he was trying to save money and start a family, she was jumping on someone else on the bed that he bought with the last savings. they separated, and hongjoong started travelling just so he could be away from the town. he said everything reminds him of the night he found them. and i accompany him, which is really hard for me as you can see."

"oh, you're living a very hard life at the moment, dad. jokes aside, that sucks for him. do i know her?"

your father scrunches his eyebrows, as if he doesn't want to remember the woman. "she's still around. she was at the gallery, that whore."

it surprises you to hear him say such harsh words. he is usually semi-polite with his speech. mr kim must've really gone through something when even your father reacts like this.

"really? why would she come? did she have the invitation?"

"no, of course not. this isn't a big town, words spread faster than anything. she came with her boytoy to make fun of him, but got shat on when she saw how successful he has gotten. she just looked at me, tried to push the statue like a fucking idiot, then left angrily. i don't know what goes on in that woman's mind."

you scoff, then feel relieved that there was a bigger fool than you there. "how did he become an artist?"

"you can ask him that yourself. he doesn't bite, you know."

you take a sip of the peach tea, then set it aside quickly. still scorching. "why would you say that? i'm not scared of him or anything."

"you were running away from him yesterday. i didn't want to ask because i didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but it was a little disrespectful towards him. he was hurt."

"did he tell you that?" you raise an eyebrow.

"no...?"

"he'll live." you simply say, then grab your phone.

you type his name in the social app again, hoping to see a new post. and there it is, a brand new post, just twenty seconds ago. simple pictures from that night, the group posing in front of the museum, then in front of various photos. then, random shots of food, drinks, and finally, you.

you, staring at the photo that you loved the most in the hall, taken from the profile. it looks like something that jumped out of pinterest, and not something that he secretly snapped before approaching you. the photo is so good that you might even post it yourself.

art admiring art, the caption says. you're surely reading too much into it. he doesn't mean it about you. there's multiple people in the photos, for god's sake. but no, your delusional self loves to make an appearance, and thus the filthy thoughts of kim hongjoong resurface again. you've been trying to push it down, especially in front of your father, but one night of insomnia, a fresh image of kim hongjoong in a tight turtle neck grabbing your face, and a hand down your sleepwear, you've fallen into the void.

now, you can't escape it. you fantasize about him, day and night, stalk his accounts, even take the longer route to work just to pass by the museum in hopes of catching a glance of him. but all you've gotten is sore feet and more sexual frustration. nothing helps anymore, not a single toy that you have once neatly packed under the bed and were collecting dust up until recently. so when your father asks you to drop some things over at the atelier, you are happy to do it.

when you hear the word atelier, you expect a cozy little room in an old building with wooden furniture and with the smell of paint. but you forget that kim hongjoong is filthy rich. the address your father has given you takes you to a whole wooden cabin just outside of town, surrounded by a light forest. you gulp, realizing what situation you are in.

you are about to be alone with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen in your life. you are about to walk into his personal space. and you have to keep your thoughts collected, just in case he is a good people reader. and you somehow feel like he is. you are wet just standing outside, holding the bag of items your father has sent him and shamelessly thinking about all possible ways he would fu-

"oh, hi. i thought i saw someone standing there. please, do come in." mr kim calls from the door, wiping his hands with a cloth. you see stains of paint all over them, and paired with his bulging veins, you realize that you aren't the strongest soldier today and that you have to run home to a certain device as soon as possible.

"good evening, sir. i actually just came to drop this off, per my father's request." you hold out the bag for him to take.

he looks at you with a raised eyebrow, still standing at the door. "you can approach, the cabin doesn't bite."

you exhale, trying to calm your heart beat. it feels like it's going to jump out and plunge straight into his face. you finally make your way towards him, trying to avoid his gaze. you don't know if he does it on purpose, but it is so intense that it feels like even your hair is sweating. he is looking you up and down as you approach, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. he takes the bag from your hand, seeing that you don't plan on speaking yet.

"and i don't bite either." he smirks, then goes back inside the cabin.

"i wish you did," you mumble, then follow after him.

the place smells like paint, just how you imagined. and it is much cozier than it looks outside. you finally get a good look at him, now that his attention is on the contents of the bag. he wears a halfway unbuttoned white dress shirt, almost see through, black slacks, and has messy hair. as if he read your thoughts, he runs his fingers through it, taming the golden strands and showing off his finely aged face.

"a drink?" he asks, hand reaching for the wine bottle that sits on the table among the brushes. "ah, right. i forgot."

he pours himself a glass instead. you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate it, you really do. but for him? no, you're not like that. not with your father's friend, god no.

"this one is actually very sweet. it doesn't have that much alcohol in it. want a sip?"

he holds his own glass for you to try. under the warm yellow lights, you see the outline of his lips on the edge of the glass. you feel ashamed that you do take the glass, and press the lips on the same outline. it takes every ounce in you not to jump into his arms and make out with him like there's no tomorrow. but you manage, only taking a sip of the dark liquid before returning the glass to him. you keep the liquid inside your mouth, afraid to let it pour down your throat. you are not ready for the stinging and bitter aftertaste. but the longer you hold it, the more you look like a squirrel with puffy cheeks and your eyes tear up.

mr kim notices, and chuckles. not mockingly, but maybe a bit fondly. he approaches you, taking your jaw into his hand again. you notice the dried paint on his fingers, and his rolled up sleeves again. his eyes look into yours, and if he wasn't holding your head up so you can look at him, you would surely turn around and leave. it is too much, yet you don't have many options at the moment. to look away, or to maintain the eye contact. he seems to be into it, and so you give it to him. you are starting to be into it too.

his thumb rubs your cheek, much like that night. his eyes roam your face, as if he is memorizing every single detail on it. he licks his lips, and his gaze softens. "swallow for me."

in the dead silence, you can almost hear your sanity shatter. you do as he tells you, with no thoughts in your brain. the liquid stings your throat, but the growing lust inside of you overshadows it. you subconsciously lick your lips, mimicking him. he smiles to himself, noticing it.

"good girl."

what you didn't expect is for him to turn around and sit on the wooden stool, rolling his sleeves further up and getting back to his painting. you stand in the middle of the room, red faced, warm and with drenched panties, shocked at his behaviour. does he do this with his models too? gets flirty, then continues his work like nothing happened? is that how he gets such erotic paintings?

"you can sit on the couch if you want, i'll be done soon. i can drive you back."

you sit on the couch, immediately sinking into it. "how did you know i didn't drive here?"

"you always walk," he simply replies, his back still turned towards you and his hands working on the canvas, "i see you every day when you pass by the museum."

oh.

"what do you say? think you can manage with me for half an hour in here? i heard you don't like me much."

your cheeks are redder than ever, lust combined with embarrassment bringing out the worst in you. "i apologized."

you hear him chuckle. "i know. no harm in a little teasing."

minutes feel like hours as you sit upside down on the comfy green couch, legs resting over the backrest and head hanging from the couch above the carpet. he doesn't pay you much attention, but all of your attention is on him. you watch as his back muscles move when he reaches for a certain paint or brush on the high shelves, as his fingers run through his hair to get it out of his face, as his hand rubs the paint into the canvas. you feel a sensation on your clit, seeing his finger rub the paint in such an erotic way that you think it's not a coincidence.

you breathe out, trying to calm yourself again. you could leave, yes. but you don't want to. you're fine. you'll live. you distract yourself with snooping around his drawers next to the couch. you find a clean set of brushes, unused paint, and packages of clay. you play with the brushes, tapping them like drumsticks, then acting out spells from harry potter, and whatnot. until you decide to dim that little spark of dignity you had left.

you glance at hongjoong again, who still sits on the stool and has made progress on the painting. you flip your skirt over, and move your panties aside. using the soft part of the brush, you glide it over your clit, and shudder at the feeling. he stops for a moment, and you hurriedly put the skirt back in place. he doesn't spare you a glance, but simply takes a sip of wine. when he returns to his work, you also return to yours.

your hand reaches for one of the pillows, and gets trapped under your teeth as your other hand continues teasing you with the soft brush. you bite into the poor pillow, tug it and arch your back, all while pleasuring yourself with kim hongjoong's brushes, on his couch, right behind his back. you go painfully slow, as to not make too much noise. you're driving yourself crazy, and you can't help but imagine what wonders he could do to you if he just turned around.

so close to reaching the release, you close your eyes, and throw your head back further, still in the upside down position. the brush works faster, the soft bristles gently but fast brushing against your swollen clit, caressing your nerves just right. so damn close, just a tad bit more, and-

"put that down."

like frost, his voice makes all the heat and lust disappear from your body. you sit still, eyes still closed, hoping that he will just disappear if you do so. that you will get yourself out of the awkward situation.

"i said..." you hear footsteps, and before you can actually listen to him, he grabs you by your jaw again, forcing you to look at him, "...put. that. down."

his eyes are stone cold, eyebrows furrowed. you gulp, feeling so small and miserable under his gaze.

"now."

your hand drops the brush on the couch, then fixes the skirt. you try to sit up straight, but hongjoong's grip on your face is strong. you stay still, waiting for the scolding to begin. you're terrified, you want to disappear. you want to drown in that bucket of paint that sits next to his stool, and never resurface again.

"what the hell do i do with you? first you hate me, then you like me, then you avoid me. now, you ride my painting brushes? how am i supposed to approach this?"

you don't try to speak. you don't trust yourself with words. you can only sound pathetic, begging for forgiveness again. so you decide to keep your mouth shut and let him be disappointed in you. he breaks eye-contact with you, only to have a sip of his wine which he brought over to the couch. he keeps it in his hand, eyes locked on you again. his thumb caresses your bottom lip, while his eyes roam the state of your body. your chest still rises and falls quickly, coming down from an orgasm denial. flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead with hair sticking to it, almost drool covered pillow with bite marks, and your arousal on his brushes and couch.

hongjoong breathes out his nose, a glint visible in his eyes.

"open up." he says, voice raspy and eyes softened.

you do as he says, opening your mouth until his thumb can comfortably sit in it. he massages your tongue, circling it and playing with it. he takes another sip of the dark liquid, then looks at you with that glint again. he removes his thumb, only to bring his head closer and pour the liquid from his mouth into yours. you swallow it without hesitation, too mesmerized and aroused by the situation. never in your life did you think that drinking from someone else's mouth was going to make you almost orgasm.

"good girl," he praises, voice barely a whisper in the silent cabin.

he downs the rest of it, then throws it on the floor aside. the glass cracking makes you twitch, but he is quick to hush you and caress your cheek.

"s-sir-" you finally speak, not even sure what you want to say.

"yes?" the man replies.

"i- i should-" you stutter, trying to come up with anything that will get you out of there, "i should go."

hongjoong raises an eyebrow, believing your words as much as you believe them. his hands fumble with the zipper of his slacks. then, he takes the pillow you had just used and gently puts it under your head.

"comfy?"

"yes...?" you say, confused.

"good."

through the opening of his pants, he pulls himself out, wasting no time in giving it a few slow strokes. your mouth waters at the sight, even if it is upside down. his hard, thick cock leaks above your head, ready to be licked clean.

"open up for me, princess."

you shudder at the nickname, and at the way he gently holds your head so that it is aligned with his cock. you open your mouth once again, slightly sticking your tongue out for him. the man presses the tip against your lips, coating them in pre-cum before pushing past them. he grunts, placing both of his hands on your cheeks to hold your head still. the warm muscle glides against your tongue, kissing the back of your neck. you can't help but imagine how it would glide inside of you, slowly, or fast, gently, or hard. you'll take anything he gives you.

"relax your throat, baby." his voice is raspy and quiet in your ears.

you do as told, trying your best to relax it. as soon as you do, hongjoong seems to lose himself a bit. he slams his hips forwards, the tip of his cock touching the back of your throat and making you gag around him. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you don't let them. his hand then reaches over to your skirt, flipping it over and exposing your drenched panties still pulled aside.

his fingers find your entrance without teasing, and he dips his finger in so easily. your walls squelch around him, arousal flooding and coating his digits. due to the position you're in, his rough fingers rub your spongy wall exactly how you need it. you squirm under his touch, feeling overstimulated even though you haven't orgasmed yet. he adds two more fingers, stuffing you almost to the brim. you're full of him, in both holes, and a whiny and squirming mess.

he abuses your mouth, admiring the outline of his cock on your neck.

"rub your pretty clit for me, princess."

hesitantly, your fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles and guiding yourself closer to an orgasm. hongjoong's fingers are restless in your hole, pumping in and out, making you moan and whine around his cock. the vibrations must feel good for him, because he throws his head back and groans. entirely lost in the pleasure of your tight mouth against him, he can't help but slam his hips harder and faster, and his fingers start matching the rythym.

you try to beg, but all the words are muffled by his equally abused cock.

"what was that, pretty girl?" he looks down at you, pure ecstasy on his face.

"please-" you somehow manage to say it.

"please? do you know what you're begging for?"

you shake your head. you don't, truly. begging for him to speed up? to slow down? to make you orgasm? or not? you have no idea. you just beg him, to give you everything he has to offer.

the moment is shattered when your phone rings, the word dad on the screen making your stomach turn. hongjoong stops, giving you a moment to collect yourself before handing you the phone. he helps you sit up straight, putting a pillow under you so that you are comfortable. you take a deep breath, who knows which one in the row that day. hongjoong caresses your cheek, as if he wasn't deep inside you both ways just seconds ago. charming, he'd say.

"hello?" you answer the phone.

"hey, kid. did you deliver those things to hongjoong?"

"yes, dad."

"great! i was thinking about inviting him for dinner tomorrow. wanna come and help me?"

"sure thing."

"i was thinking steak, with that whiskey sauce you make..."

you are no longer paying attention, because hongjoong is on his knees in front of the couch. he gently spreads your legs, and looks at you with a mischievous look. you shake your head silently, asking him to not do anything. but all falls in water when hongjoong licks a stripe up your slit and you shake under his touch. your legs close reflexively, but the older man is quick to hold your thighs in place as he devours you on his couch. he makes out with your folds, as if he is kissing your real lips. his tongue teases the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles. he sucks it, tugs it and rubs it, all the things that have your fingers grasping his hair and pulling mercilessly.

his fingers find their way inside you again, curling up so that you get maximum pleasure. a whine escapes your lips, and hongjoong stops everything he is doing. you beg him with your eyes not to stop. you can't go home empty handed. but the man only puts his hand over your mouth, and ever so slowly, slides inside of you. you swallow him so easily, arousal leaking all over him and his couch.

"dad, i really have to-" you gasp, feeling his cock brushing against your sweet spot, "i have to go."

"oh? alright then. so, tomorrow?"

hongjoong grabs your waist, not moving his own hips, but instead slamming your body on his cock and bruising your skin with his strong grip. his hair falls over his eyes, loose strands perfectly decorating his face painted with pure pleasure.

"huh? yes, yes! tomorrow. okay, see you!"

you've never ended a call so fast, and you've never thrown your phone so far away.

"don't hold back, darling. let me hear you."

and that's when you let go. you grip his shoulders, moan into his ear, whine, squirm, whatnot. you certainly don't make it easy for him.

"for an old pervert, you sure are having the time of your life." he teases.

you try glaring at him, but you can barely keep your head up. "just fuck me, please."

"you finally know what you're begging for. only you're not asking properly."

"pretty please?"

"no, you can do better."

you think hard, defocusing from the orgasm chasing for a moment. then, it clicks.

"please, daddy."

hongjoong chuckles happily, and snaps his hips harder into you. "that's a good girl."

something about having sex with clothes on drove you crazy, especially since hongjoong was in his natural habitat and clothing. it pushes you over the edge, seeing him brush his hair back and looking at you with such lust. you're shaking harder than ever, clear liquid squirting out of you and all over him and his furniture. you're in shock, trying to reach your breath, while hongjoong still sloppily fucks his cum into you.

he grunts and hums against your lips, not yet kissing you. which you suddenly find very frustrating.

"you should shit on my art more often, eh?"

with a laugh, you try to cover yourself with the blanket. but hongjoong takes it from your hand, then uses it to wipe the liquid off your body. he tosses it aside, then reaches for his own coat to give it to you. hesitantly, you take it. as you put it on, hongjoong examines your face for any traces of regret. when he sees none, he smiles fondly at you, pressing his lips on top of your hand, just like that night.

"you're a very pretty young woman, you know that?"

"thanks," you say awkwardly.

"you wanted to kiss me, i know. but..."

you roll your eyes, acting unphased.

"...i don't think i'm ready yet."

"you just rearranged my guts, and a kiss is a problem for you?"

he laughs, but not because it's funny, but because you are right. he helps you lay down on the couch, then covers you with the spare blanket. "we'll get there, pretty. right now, i want you to take a power nap before i take you home. got it?"

"got it, sir."

"good girl."

815 notes · View notes

your-nanas-house · 3 months

Note

Can we have Thomas Shelby having lactation/breastfeeding kink? The reader is a new mother and her tits are full of milk 🥵

Damn yess, I'm such a sucker for this kind of fics. 🫣😳

Mother

◇ Pairing: Dad!Thomas Shelby X Mom fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, lactation kink, breastfeeding, mention of twins, Tommy is pathetic and desperate, past pregnancy, breast milk, cumming.

◇ Summary: Tommy tastes his wife's milk for the first time.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. And for making you wait so long! 🙏

A mother.. that's what she was, with her round, full, heavy breasts that made their little bundles of joy wiggle in excitement every time, Thomas thought.

The mother... of their twins.. theirs. His and hers.

A mother... with her mature curves, her swellings and her glowing self, her soft hips... and her, damn, swollen tits that were now leaking drops of her milk. A milk that should be for their babies... who already were sleeping, milk drunk from their dinner. A milk that was screaming at Tommy to be tasted by him... even if it looked like such a taboo thing to do.

"Tommy" Y/n said firmly, snapping him out of the trance he was in since nearly 5 minutes now.

Her hands were on her hips and a soft pout was adorning her face... the same one that appeared every time he didn't listen to what she said and so he had her repeat things more than once.

"You can taste it if you want" her soft voice informed him as her tensed and scolding language disappeared, giving space to an amused and mocking one. The woman saw how he looked at her since the pregnancy started to change her body... expecially how he looked at her full, painful breasts.

It really was entertaining the way he tried to play it off, pretending he didn't stared at her while she breastfed. Or when the milk started to wet the fabric of her clothes.... expecially her nightgown, in which it was even more noticeable.

"Our little angels already had it and my boobs are aching, still full and... lonely" she murmured softly while crawling closer to her husband, who was sitting on the bed, holding his breath unconsciously.

Tommy looked hesitant, millions of battles kept going on in his head as his heart beat hard against his bare chest. His blood rushed down to his cock as the gorgeous body of his woman positioned itself on his lap and her hands slowly lowered her nightgown to expose more skin at the cold night breeze.

As soon as his baby blue eyes stopped on her breasts now fully on display, his mind stopped struggling and his head moved on its own, attracted by the shiny nipple like a hungry baby. In a split second his lips were wrapped around it and his free hands grabbed her hip and the back of her neck to prevent her from moving as he started to suckle on it.

Her own milk landing on his greedy tongue, causing a low growl to escape his throat. His hips bucked against hers, in search of a relief, almost humping her clothed cunt shamelessly.

Tommy was in his own world, his mouth focused on stealing the warm liquid from his wife as his body got even more aroused by the intimacy of the moment.

He slowed down just when Y/n grabbed his hair, pulling them to warn him silently as his teeth started to brush and tease her abused nipple.

"That's a good body, fuckk... Tommy. Suck it all for mommy" his wife meowed out after taking a deep sigh, her hand still holding his hand close to her chest as her husband feed himself, moving to the other breast as soon as he felt enough satisfied.

She could tell the effect this mere action was doing to her husband, the way his body twitched and he groaned against her skin before starting to suck again... indicated her that he actually just allowed himself to cum in his pajamas pants, too focused on her tits to actually care.

So desperate and pathetic, she thought, but very arousing to watch.

That sure wouldn't be the last time she would let him.

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cillianhead · 7 months

Text

★ MASTERLIST ★

Hey this is the masterlist with all the fics i've written so far (and will be updated every time i upload a new fic)

Cillian Murphy x Reader:

Put The Beatles On, Light The Candles, Go Back To Bed (fluff)

Three And A Half Months (smut)

Illicit Affairs (smut, dad's best friend!Cillian)

In Your Car, I'm A Star (smut)

Wind In My Hair, I Was There (angst + smut)

Lazy Sundays (smut)

A New Pair of Glasses (smut) (part one)

Red Eyes (smut) (part two)

Strawberry Syrup (smut)

Jonathan Crane x Reader:

Sitting Pretty (smut)

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby (fluff + angst + comfort)

Are You Afraid of The Dark? (smut)

Neil Lewis x Reader:

Pussy-Whipped (smut)

You're The Only One Who Makes Me Feel Alive (smut + angst)

Slut (smut)

Thomas Shelby x Reader:

Show Me How Much You Need Me (smut)

Ambrosia (smut)

Look What You Made Me Do (smut)

Emmett (A Quiet Place II) x Reader:

Scream For Me (smut)

Jackson Rippner x Reader

Your Dog (smut)

Oppenheimer x Reader

- Oppie is a sub? (smut)

don't see something you think should be there? send me requests and i'll write em <3

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padfootdaredmetoo · 2 years

Note

Hey 👋 I’m not too sure if your doing requests( if not completely ignore this it’s fine:)) but I was requesting a peaky blinders one-shot where reader is like an orphan and lives in an orphanage and tommy the philanthropist he is goes down to the orphanage with Polly,John,Arthur,and Ada and whoever else you want and they see reader going at it with on of the sisters. You could choose the conflict or their argument but yeah, if you could draw the reader as someone who’s quick and sarcastic with their words like a speak before thinking type of person you know. Also can this be like a tommy Shelby x daughter!reader kinda like a found family kind of trope. Sweet kisses love your stories❤️

Dear Anon,

I hope this does it justice!! I changed a few things because I felt like it fit the story better (I hope that's alright) but there is lots of family stuff. And lots of Lizzie and Tommy - not something I have ever written before so hopefully that's also alright. Sweet kisses back to you love, thank you for this wonderful idea!!!

Warnings: peaky type stuff, religious language? Implied that a priest was going to assault the reader, bad words, not descriptive death of parents, mentioned death of a baby, grief, so much sweetness and hurt comfort and hopefully laughs. I promise it's not as dark or sad as it sounds. Also some Grace bashing / group hate.

Word count: 6606 - may have gotten carried away...

Part 2

Tommy watched Lizzie closely as they approached the large building. According to his sources it housed around a hundred and fifty children, the building was large but it didn't seem that large.

It was gray and rainy, much like every day. The dark dampness didn’t bother him as it had seeped into his bones and made a home long ago. At this point, he was convinced that the sunlight would simply cause him to turn to ashes if it ever reached his skin.

Lizzie looked nervous but that was expected, he felt beyond nervous. Suddenly hoping she would change her mind altogether. Children were overrated, he would know having raised Finn and half of John's kids. But after her she lost the baby, he would do anything to bring some happiness to her. He knew he wasn't the best husband, but he was trying to do better every day.

Walking up the steps a voice in his mind started to remind him that he would only be bringing this baby into a world of danger and horror. Only going to ruin them so no God would allow them refuge. He pushed them down as best he could, reaching out to hold Lizzie’s hand. She looked taken back at the gesture, another thing wrong with them. Wrong with the situation.

They were escorted in to look at the babies. They were just as expected, plump, cute, and small. Tommy tried not to look at them too close, no point in getting attached. Lizzie would pick a baby, and he would attempt to be a good father.

He hated that he knew what it felt like to reach out for parents that were not there to hold you. He was sulking when a commotion caught his attention.

“For Fucks sakes woman! ” A girl shouted.

“You listen here. Father Stryker is a noble member of this community and organization. You will do what he asks of you.” A woman responded in a cold tone.

“We both know that’s not what God would want you old bat.” The girl snapped back and he held back a smile.

“Now you listen here, we do not know what God wants, that’s not our place. He has a way -”

“No, he sure as hell doesn't. God would NEVER.” The girl demanded. “I thought God was in all of us, and GOD doesn't want me to be alone with him. In fact, I would say he’s overcome with passion about the issue. It would be a sin for me to ignore his protests.”

“I will not tolerate such language, you foul girl!” The sound of a slap was dealt out. Tommy felt an odd feeling of unease about the situation.

“You let this happen! You. And you will BURN FOR IT. Mark my words, you will suffer an eternity for his sins. There are no amount of crosses under the sun for Jesus to croak on that would make up for your grotesque choices you evil witch.” The girl's voice was pure venom, and Tommy was overcome with an urge to protect the girl. What type of place were they running here?

“I want her,” Lizzie said clearly standing next to him looking at the Sister that was showing them around.

“Sorry Mrs. Shelby ?” She asked looking for clarification.

“The girl in the hall.” He looked at Lizzie landing her eyes on a girl that must have been about 15 standing off with the nun in the hallway. Her face was beet red, making her blue eyes seem extraordinarily bright in contrast, her fists clenched ready for a fight of any size. That girl did not care what happened, she wasn't going to back down.

“Ah, are you sure? She’s quite temperamental.” She responded looking embarrassed.

“Excellent, I’ve never seen anyone look so much like my husband,” Lizzie said with a smirk on her face.

“We’ll take her. And I’d like a word with management.” He asserted firmly. This was not the sort of thing he could look the other way on, plus it would only further the family image. Win-win.

______________________________

Another sister came into the hallway.

“Sister Margret, she has been requested by a family.” She said quickly.

You were positive this must be some type of trap. But a tall angular woman moved into the hallway. She looked like someone from a painting, impossibly pretty, elegant, clothes worth a small fortune. This was impossible.

The sister grabbed your arm and pulled you away from that bitch. Far away from the classroom you were terrified of.

The lady looked you up and down and removed the sister's hand from your arm. She shot her a warning look and the sister apologized. Whoever this woman was, she meant business.

“I’m Lizzie, Lizzie Shelby.” She said in a voice that belonged on a stage. You introduced yourself feeling embarrassed.

“We’d like to take you home if you're alright with that.” She asked holding her arm out. Normally you didn’t like being touched for any reason, but being escorted out of the place was a good enough reason for you to make an exception.

You looped your arm in hers and she strode out of the place with her head held high.

“The Paperwork -” The sister called out

“Get my husband to deal with it.” She called back, her voice dripping with power. You accompanied her into a very expensive car. You sat in the back seat beside her and watched her take in your appearance as if it had changed being in the natural light.

“Do you read?” She asked you lighting a cigarette.

“I had a tutor before my parents died.”

“How did they pass?”

“Car accident.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“We’ll expect you to go to school.”

“You’d be a shit parent if you didn't.” You mentally kicked yourself. “Sorry I -didn't” You were stumbling over an apology as the door opened and a man got into the driver's seat.

“That’s my husband. Thomas.”

“Hello,” You said feeling completely deflated. “It’s nice to meet you, both of you, It’s nice.” You couldn't remember a time being so embarrassed. You wished that they would just run you over with their expensive tires. There were just too many emotions in such a short period.

An hour ago a priest was forcing himself on you, telling you God would never allow you to get adopted, and here you were making a fool out of yourself with your new parents.

That phrase stung so bad you visually imagined pushing it from your mind.

“Did you sort the paperwork?” Lizzie asked in a frosty tone that made you wonder what their relationship problems were like.

“That and a few other things.” He responded in a tone you assumed only ghosts were capable of.

“Like what?” She said looking out the window with resentment.

“Taking the place over.” He responded easily. As if it was no big deal, like spending money on petrol for the car.

“What do you mean?” This caught her off guard and you watched a bit of hopefulness come to life in her eyes.

“Saw things.” He hesitated, obviously aware of your presence in the car. “That I didn’t think God would approve of.” You caught a slight smirk on his face in the mirror. His eyes told you it was easier to poke fun at the situation.

Lizzie hummed in approval, and even though you’d only known them a few minutes it felt like progress.

_______

They wanted to give you a few days to settle in before introducing you to the whole family. Something you saw as a bit of a red flag. The house was massive, but it was clean and quiet. Both a blessing and a curse. You were too shy to ask for something to do or go explore. Your bedroom was unbelievably beautiful, and warm.

There was a knock on the door that caused you to jump.

“Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” Lizzie’s voice rang through the door.

“Of course” You responded stiffly. She came in and smiled at you, she pointed to your bed but you didn't understand what she was looking at. Should you not have been laying on it during the day?

“Is it alright if I sit?” She asked you and you realized that’s what she meant.

“Yes!” You sat up straight feeling like an idiot once again. You’d had to sit through two dinners each equally painful due to your rambling.

“How are you settling in?” She asked kindly.

“Um, fine. It’s nice. I love my room.”

“What do you get up to in here?” She looked around with a frown.

“Mostly sitting and thinking.” You responded blandly.

“Are you sure I can’t take you shopping for anything?” She’d asked at least three times, and you felt horrible imposing on them further.

“I don't want to bother you.” You finally broke. She let out a strange laugh.

“Bother me. All the time. Big stuff little stuff, doesn't matter.” She picked a piece of lint off of your bedspread. “Plus kids cost money you know. That’s no one's fault, so don’t carry it like a burden.”

Your eyes stung with tears. That was not the narrative you had grown up with parents or none. You’d always been acutely aware of the burden your existence placed on people. Her words made you feel like you were special, not something your parents could give you. This brought on a very large mix of feelings.

“Don’t cry, really all this is-” Her face appeared displeased with your reaction and it only made your hurt more.

“Normal. Not for me, it’s not. If you wanted a kid that was used to this you should have had one yourself.” the words flew out of your mouth and she was up and out of the room before you could try to apologize. You felt so much worse, you wanted to pull out all your hair trying to make it stop.

You stopped trying to hold the tears back and got up off your bed to apologize. An embarrassing apology was better than them shipping you back.

You followed the sound of her soft crying sounds. Through a door that was slightly ajar. It was a beautiful nursery. They had tried to have their little spoilt children, the guilt only became worse.

You locked eyes with her and decided the truth was always best.

“You treat me better than my parents. But they're dead and it hurts. I don't want to bother you both, it's already some kind of miracle that I got adopted at this age, I don't want to push my luck. Or live through you getting bored of me and then tossing me aside.”

For a moment you thought she was going to shout at you. But she just nodded in understanding. You both were crying, so why not try to risk a hug. You got down on the sheep skin rug next to her and hugged her.

Her grief wrapped around you with her slender arms. She pushed your face against her chest and kissed the top of your head. You didn't understand, but the hurt in her felt a lot like the hurt inside of you. So you leaned into the feeling crying just as hard.

“I lost her. She was born and - nothing anyone could do about it.” She said after a long while. The thought made your heart break all over again. “They told me I couldn't have kids. Spent years avoiding it like it was the plague and now, God it hurts.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry for you too. My dad left before I was born, mother passed when I was 13. Prostitute till I was twenty.” She let out a sad laugh. “This life.” She motioned to the house with her arm. “Is not the life I came from and my husband doesn't have much. But he has money, so don’t ever feel bad for spending it.” You looked up at her in shock. There was no way she was telling the truth. She looked like she belonged in a palace like you wanted to trust her with the whole world. So elegant, kind eyes.

“We’re the same then” you whispered.

“Absolutely not! If you become a prostitute I will have officially become the worst mother in history.” She said causing you both to laugh.

“I’m not good with people.” You joked along. Tommy pushed the door open and you stiffened slightly. No matter how you tried to calm down, he made you uneasy. Like he would be impossible to please or get to know.

“It’s not a whore house?” He said with a confused look having caught the end of the conversation. You’d never seen a man look more confused as the both of you were tear-soaked holding each other on the floor.

“Not anymore it's not.” Lizzie quipped causing him to almost smile. You wondered what made him so stuck up.

“Good lord, how did you guys make all this money again?” You asked cheekily, causing Lizzie to laugh.

“Just you wait.” She said lightly, but you couldn't help but know already that it was not God’s work that placed them here.

“Come down for lunch?” he asked you both, still slightly put off by the situation.

“Yes” she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hands, you watched her walls of composure surround her once again.

“Come on. Let’s see how much trouble we can get in before supper.” She said helping you up.

_____________________________

You stopped by to pick up people on the way to the shops.

“We’ll get Esme first. She’s John’s wife. Tommy’s younger brother - he made a deal with the Lee family - a bunch of gypsies - Tommy needed men, and she needed a husband. Technically I almost married John. It was a complicated time. But they both get along like a house on fire. She holds him down pretty good, probably the only reason he’s still alive.” You listened as she drove you through the countryside. “Then we’ll get Polly. She’s Tommy’s Aunt. She probably goes up against him the most. She’s some kind of Gypsy royalty, a very peculiar woman, but she means well. Hated Tommy’s first wife Grace. Well, we all hated Grace. Us women tend to stick together. We have to put up a good front against the boys or they raise hell like nothing else.”

“You’re all gangsters then?” You asked her catching her slightly off guard.

“Technically he’s a gangster turned politician. But trust me having been on the receiving end of both there really isn't a difference.”

You blushed at her words and tried to hold your tongue.

“I shouldn't have said that last part.” She flicked her cigarette case open and lit one up. “Forget I said that.” but you started laughing. You pulled up to a country-style house, chickens squawking loudly at the car engine.

“Oi! That is not a baby!” A woman with wild curly hair approached the car. She slid into the backseat and you felt awkward sitting in the front. You looked at her looking you over. “Total babe, but not a baby.” She said with wide eyes in disbelief.

“She’s fifteen,” Lizzie responded looking at you like you were a brand new car.

“Good lord. Going to have to beat the boys off of her. She’s pretty like you.”

You blushed heavily at her words unsure of what to do with the attention.

“Eh, as long as we keep her close I think we’ll manage just fine.” Lizzie smiled and turned the car around.

“I’m Esme, I’m sure Lizzie caught you up to speed.” She lit a cigarette and smiled at you as you introduced yourself. She asked you lots of questions, about how you liked the place.

“It’s cold. You can say it, love.” Esme blurted out. “It’s a monument to Grace. Should have been burnt down the second she left us.” You could tell this was a part of the stormy ocean of problems that rested between your adopted parents. You put that piece of knowledge into your back pocket. You pulled up to a stylish-looking complex and a woman in a black suit and sunglasses approached the car.

“I was going to offer to babysit for you when you need a rest - but by the looks of it I’ll be asking you for help, love.”

“How many kids do you have?” You asked while you waited.

“Too fuckin’ many,” Polly responded climbing into the back seat. “I thought you asked Tommy for a baby, not a miniature replica of yourself?”

“Come off it Pol,” Lizzie said starting the car.

“I’m serious, I thought I was seein’ a bloody ghost. I’ve known you since you were the size of a potato, when I say she looks just like ya, I fuckin’ mean it.”

You looked at Lizzie and wished you looked even a fraction of how beautiful she was.

“How's he managing with this then? He was always good with the kids when they were little but I can’t imagine he’d know what to do with her.” Polly said stealing Esme’s cigarette.

“Eh, like everything else, he’s adjusting.” Everyone seemed to find this funny.

“You look at me, that boy gives you any trouble you call me alright. I’ll set him straight.” She was strong like Thomas but soft like Lizzie, and something distinctly her own. You could tell she was in charge.

“Thank you.” You said sheepishly unsure of what else to say.

“You're welcome, love,” She said kindly.

Shopping was a lot. You cried on the way home and they had a unique way of comforting you while also making fun of you, making you laugh. Once you started laughing with them it seemed impossible to stop. You assumed that you would all pile into the sitting room, but instead, you piled into the kitchen, which quickly became your favorite space in the house. A large wooden table surrounded by something that felt so perfectly warm. Grace clearly didn’t touch this space much.

They poured you cranberry juice and set into a bottle of whiskey. The jokes got worse as the night progressed and for once your sharp tongue and misplaced comments brought a great deal of joy.

“Where did you find this girl!” Esme said between laughs

“Fighting off a Nun in a hallway,” Lizzie replied still laughing from the joke before. Tommy and you assumed his brothers appeared in the doorway.

“Wow, Looks like you Lizzie, but with Tom’s eyes” John said, or you thought it was him because he went to stand behind Esme and she looked up at him in a way you hadn't seen before.

“And his mouth.” Esme quipped and you hoped it was a compliment. He reached across the table to shake your hand.

“John”

“It’s nice to meet you” You introduced your self. Arthur came and gave you a crushing hug.

“They got you out numbered now brother.” He joked letting you go to pour himself a glass of whiskey.

Tommy gave you a tense look, like he was worried about something. He took the seat next to you puting space between you and the boys.

“Might be enough women to put some life back into this place.” Polly said with twinkling eyes.

“I’ll try my best.” You responded quickly seeing that Tommy didn’t seem happy.

He stuck close to your side, sliding glasses of Whiskey away from you as the boys started drinking. His youngest brother was only a few years older than you, and he showed up with a bunch more men that introduced themselves politely before joining into the savagery.

You scooted your self along the bench to sit closer to Tommy not knowing the others well enough to want to sit as close.

“Thank you, Lord, for blessing us with such a wonderful girl! May she shine bright for us in these dark times. To the newest Shelby!” Arthur’s voice boomed and your face turned bright red. Everyone finished a drink, but you caught Lizzie and Tommy sharing a look.

Tommy put his arm around and you were grateful to have something to lean into with all the commotion. They were the loudest and rudest, most funny group of people you’d ever seen.

“Think it’s time for bed, eh?” He asked you quietly and you nodded.

“Alright! Clear out you lot. She’s got to get to bed. We can have a proper dinner tomorrow night!” Tommy called out causing a few groans.

“But we just got here!” Finn mumbled.

Everyone said their goodbyes and goodnights to you moving out of the kitchen. Polly placed a kiss to your forehead. She said something in a different language, to which Tommy responded with a sharp nodd.

Once everyone had piled out the front door, they took you up to your room. You hit the bed feeling more tired than you could ever remember.

_________________________________________

You slowly became more at ease around Tommy. Sitting alone at the table didn’t frighten you nearly as much. You heard him shout at people occasionally and that made you determined to keep your distance.

It wasn't until Lizzie stayed away for a night getting stuck at Esme’s due to a storm. You assured her that you ate dinner and that everything was fine. In reality, you'd been sitting by the front window praying for her to come back. You hated storms and you’d just trusted that she’d be there and know what to do about it.

Eventually you decided to retreat to your room to avoid any conflict.

“Goodnight.” You poked your head into his study.

“Night, love.” He responded kindly looking up from his papers. You thought about bothering him for a moment, telling him that you were scared. You decided to slip up to your bedroom instead. Girls your age didn't get scared of these types of things.

Without Lizzie, there was an impending sense of doom about the place. Like there was pressure pushing down on you. Listening to things creak and shift, you had an idea that maybe without Lizzie here Grace’s ghost would try to snatch you up.

Laying there listening to the storm and the house, your mind cooked up a story of revenge. Grace would kill you to get back at Lizzie for stealing her mourning husband. Maybe that’s why Lizzie’s baby wasn't born right. Your heart started to race as your stomach twisted.

There must have been some deeper story, Lizzie always seemed like she was very hurt by Grace, despite having come into Tommy’s life after. But Polly’s known Lizzie since she was a baby….

Questions were swirling in your mind non stop trying to make sense of it all. Your door made a horrid sscreeching sound and you let out a scream in response, pulling the blankets up above your head.

“LEAVE ME ALONE GRACE.” You shouted hoping that it was enough that you could see it was her this whole time. She’d be deterred by your cleverness and the quilt Polly had made you.

The quilt was tugged away from your face and you balled your fists ready to fight her off. However you looked up at Tommy’s horrified face instead.

“I don’t do well with storms” You blurted out hoping that would make it better. You both looked at eachother for a moment.

“Let’s make some tea.” He said firmly. You knew that you’d fucked up and the last thing you wanted to do was have tea over the situation. You got up and he pulled your quilt around you, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you moved down the stair case.

You watched him light a fire in the kitchen and grab two glasses and fill them with whiskey.

He passed one to you and sat across from you, he took off his glasses and placed them on the table.

“Why do you think my first wife is out to get you?” He cut right to the chase.

“I got scared of the storm, and Lizzie is trapped, Grace- it’d be the perfect opportunity to get revenge on Lizzie for stealing her mourning husband.” You rushed the words out wishing you were dead. Tommy actually chuckled.

“That’s the story you’d been told then?”

“No, just the one that made sense.”

“How so?” He took a sip of whiskey.

“Everyone says this place is some kind of shrine for her, Lizzie hates it. Hates her, why exactly, I’m not sure but I know it’s because she’s hurt.”

“Lizzie is hurt by Grace?” He asked with a wrinkled brow, you didn't think he was capable of such emotions.

“That’s obvious.” You said sadly. He made a humming noise.

“I didn’t intend to marry Lizzie. She got pregnant and I married her.” He answered easily, suddenly you were very angry at him. Happy he did right by her and married her but -

“Doesn’t mean she hasn’t always loved you.” You argued.

“Is that so?”

“Obviously. Have you ever looked at her? This place, the family, everything, me. Obviously.” You were dumbfounded. How on earth could someone so smart and sharp be so daft. “She puts up with a lot of shit around here. Not once has she ever mentioned leaving or hating you.”

“Perhaps I should talk to her about it.”

“You’d better. Everywhere we go men look at her.” You said trying to scare him into doing the right thing.

“I’m sure they do, she’s a pretty woman.” He answered tensly. Suddenly you started to worry that maybe he wont ever love her, and if that was the case he would certainly never learn to love you. Panic started to wash over you.

“Do you want to watch the storm then?”

“How?” You answered even more uneasy. He got up and you followed him through to the dark sitting room. He pulled the curtains open adding the slitghtest bit of light to the room. You helped him turn the couch around to face the big window.

You watched him pour more wiskey and sit down motioning for you to do the same. Wrapped in Polly’s quilt you sat next to him and he put his arm around your shoulders.

“The only way to stop being scared is to face the thing that scares you.” He explained easily. He held you close to his side as you watched the dark figures of trees swaying violently. The lightening causing you to jump. Eventually things calmed down but you found yourself wishing that it would continue on so you could spend more time sitting like this. He just sat with you tucked into his side sipping his whiskey.

“ I do care for you and Lizzie. More than anything.” He kissed the top of your head. “Things in the past weren't always easy or safe. Keeping her at arm's length seemed like the best way to keep her from ending up like Grace.”

You listened to his voice in the dark, feelingthe pain in his words.

“However, I would hate for her to leave me for a man at the shops.” He said lightly and you snorted.

“Sorry for overstepping - I didn’t mean that she looked back at them”

“S’alright.” He answered easily. Suddenly you saw headlights coming up the drive. You felt his body tense. “Hide behind the desk,” he said seriously. He grabbed a gun hidden in the paneling on the wall. You could hear the door open and to your relief, you heard Lizzie’s voice.

“Fuck sake, Thomas! A gun! Scared the bloody life out of me!” She started to scold him but suddenly she stopped. “Are you alright? Where is she?! I knew something was wrong! Where-” her voice was muffled and you assumed it was because he was holding her.

“She’s fine, in the sitting room” He answered calmly.

“The sitting room at this hour!”

You got up and moved back to the couch hoping that they might sit with you a while longer before going up to bed.

“Why is the couch the wrong way?” She asked sitting down pulling you against her. “Miss me enough to sit up at the window like a couple of dogs.”

“Something like that.” You said enjoying the way she held you tightly. Tommy came to sit down on the other side of you. His arm came across your shoulders pulling Lizzie towards you slightly.

“Did you give her whiskey? She smells like distillery.”

“One glass to calm her nerves, won’t hurt her any.” You felt him reach over you to kiss the top of her head.

“Alright. But don’t you go turning into your father.” She said sternly causing you to laugh.

You sat for a while with the them till eventually the gray sky started to brighten with the sun of the next day.

“Let’s get to bed. We can all get in a nap before the day starts.” Tommy said. Lizzie followed you through to your room to help you into bed and make sure you were okay. After you were settled you heard them talking down the hall and hoped that he was ready to face his fears.

The next day you all had breakfast around noon in the kitchen. Lizzie and Tommy seemed in better spirits, might have had something to do with the marks on her neck, but you hoped he’d talked to her about the situation.

After that night things were noticeably different. You went to school and tried to get along with the other kids, your marks were not great, leading to long nights in the kitchen studying extra with various family members. Esme was the best person to sit with, having learned maths and reading from her mother. She knew how to encourage you without stressing you out.

Tommy on the other hand would look over the material and already look stressed. He always tried to keep his temper in check, but it was unbearable feeling him be frustrated with you. Eventually he caught on that you did worse with him there because of the added pressure, he learned to just sit next to you and work on his problems and offer you help when you needed it.

It took a lot of struggling but eventually you were caught up and getting good marks.

Things were going well till some old business needed to be handled. Tommy was to go away for two weeks, something that seemed to crush Lizzie.

To her surprise he called her everynight. You’d watch her sitting on kitchen counter talking and occasionally laughing. Then he’d talk to you about school and the weather, telling you that he missed you. That was when you realised that something must be very wrong. He was clearly in a great deal of danger where ever he was. Polly came to stay at the house with Arthur, you enjoyed having them around but it only confirmed your suspicion. Everyone seemd it was best to keep you in the dark on the whole thing.

When he came back he was very different. Somebody, or some people, were most certainly dead. A great relief fell over the family and something was different about him. He had a smile on his face when she rushed to the door to greet him. You watched how they held eachother and thought back to when you’d first met them. Things were very different. You eventually butted into the hug feeling left out.

______________

Extra Blurb.

Eventually the unthinkable happened. The boy you had your eye on at school asked you out. Not knowing what to do or what the rules are you decided to get some more information on him make sure he was worth the risk of asking.

Finn laughed at you.

“Not from the best family. But not a rival either, Tommy’s sure to have a fit, and Lizzie, I’m not sure. All in all, I don't mind the guy, you might be better off not telling them.” He said looking out the stained glass window of the Garrison. “If he gives you a hard time, come see me yeah? Don’t let him take you out of Small Heath” He looked at you seriously.

“Sure thing.” You said getting up. You shouted a thank you over your shoulder rushing out of the pub.

You thought long and hard about the situation. He made you laugh, didnt seem to care to much about your last name or who your dad was. Didn’t care that you were adopted. He was very polite, but enjoyed your peculiar sense of humor and misplaced words.

You thought about turning him down. It was too complicated and anything that would upset your parents was too much of a burden. Thinking of what you would say to him, your heart gave a painful wrench.

You went downstairs towards Tommy’s study. God this boy better be worth it or you’d put him in the ground.

You poked your head in to see him writing and Lizzie sitting on the sofa reading a magazine.

“Erm - So.” You started and watched them both look up at you.

“What are you wearing?” Lizzie said smiling at your dress.

“Go upstairs and change” Tommy cut you off before you could respond.

“Theres a boy -” You watched his face fall into his hands. “And he’s picking me up in a half hour if that’s allowed.” You fumbled with your words, wanting them to say yes badly.

“What boy” They said at the same time, giving eachother a glare.

“Noah Solomons. I met him at school.” you responded expecting an explosion.

“No. absolutley not. No way on earth am I sending you anywhere with him.”

“Finn said he’s alright.” You started by stopped once he let out a sigh.

“Finn! Fucking bastard.” He pinnched the bridge of his nose.

“Where is he taking you then?” Lizzie asked

“Just around Small Heath for dinner. I told him that I can’t be out late.” Your face got red and you looked out the window.

“Put on a longer dress. The purple one, and put your hair up -”

“Tommy! Don’t make her wear the purple one” Lizzie started to argue but stopped once she saw the look on his face. Her eyes narrowed back at him.

“How bout I wear the red one -”

“The black one is fine” They both answered suddently.

“Just put on a cardigan,” Lizzie said getting up. “I have a nice one upstairs.” You followed her up to her bedroom. She pulled out a nice cardigan and some less opaque stockings. After you’d changed you looked yourself over, more modest, but that wasn't a bad thing. Especially if it got Tommy’s blood pressure back down. Lizzie got your hair up and you were grateful for her help.

“Do you think dad will let me go?” You asked as she fixed your make up.

“Dont think he can stop you. But, we’ve done business with his father. I think he’s worried this is apart of some elaborate plan.”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll keep an eye on him” You were even more nervous now. Lizzie gave you lots of advice and you felt bad making her this worried. When you walked down stairs you could see Tommy talking to Noah at the door.

You loved the way his face lit up when his eyes landed on you, he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world. You watched the front door swing shut, keeping him on the other side.

“No.” He said firmly looking at Lizzie.

“Going to have to let her find her own way sometimes.”

“No I don’t. Not with boys, not dressed like that.” He responded angrily.

“Look, I told Finn where we are going, he said him and Isaiah would be around to keep an eye out. I’ve known him for the past two school years. I - please” You looked up at him in what you hoped were puppy dog eyes. You saw the conflict rage in his eyes.

“Fine.” He sighed in defeat. “But you don’t like something, anything, you call me from the restaurant and -” You cut him off with a big hug.

“I won’t be out too late. Love ya” You said flying out the door before he could change his mind.

He kissed you on the cheek on the door step, promising to take you out again next weekend. After saying goodnight you watched as he drove down the drive way before opening the front door.

You were surprised at how quiet it was. You slipped your shoes off and followed the lamp light into the sitting room. Much like the day with the storm, they sat on the sofa turned around to face the large window. You moved towards them to see your dad looking beyond relieved, and mum asleep on his lap.

“So how was it then?” He asked you handing you the last bit of whiskey in his glass. You sat down next to him, watching him look you over for anything out of place.

“Felt a bit like the Queen to be honest. More Blinders than people in that restaurant. Not to mention people watching from their windows.” You gave him a look as he started out the window. “But he was nice. I -He is nice, I enjoyed myself”

“Just for food then straight back?”

“You already know that’s what happened. Can you help me get the pins out of my hair?” You turned away from him and felt him struggle to find them, pulling slightly too hard.

“What? No, this is my job hands off.” Lizzie said groggily. “What did I miss? Tell me everything.” You felt the two of them shift and Lizzie's expert hands start bringing your hair down. By the time she’d gotten it brushed Polly and Esme had showed up for a full debrief in the kitchen.

You were giggling like mad for hours with them, hearing their stories about past lovers. Some sweet, other cautionary. Eventually it was time for bed and you stopped into Tommy’s office before going to wash up.

“Dad.” He gave you a shocked look then you realised what you had said. You didnt feel like apologizing though, too tired to make a big deal of it. You leaned over and gave him a hug. “Thanks for letting me go tonight.” You felt his arms wrap around you tightly.

“I don't like it, and there will be lots to talk about tomorrow. But I'm happy that you're happy.” You kissed his cheek then headed up to bed. You knew that he’d probably already called Noah’s father, a tense conversation awaited you, but you had no doubt it was because he loved you.

@kpopgirlbtssvt

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heavencanbeaprisontoo · 2 months

Note

Hi I hope you’re well 😊 I’m here to request your thoughts on Tommy Shelby as a father. Like how many kids you’d think he would have had if he only had one love interest (no falling in love with Grace or marrying Lizzie). Or if you think he’d be a girl or boy dad (personally i’d like to think he’d be a girl dad and have a big family haha). You can make this headcanon or just simply respond to this ask however you’d like! Thank you for taking the time to read and answer 🥰

Thomas Shelby as a Father

Tommy x Fem!Reader

Trope: Wait till your father gets home Warnings: Angst, spoilers for most of the series, period-typical sexism, references to past ab-se.

What we see of Tommy as a father is that he's distant and seemingly detached. This, I feel, is because of his trauma in losing Grace and his growing obsession with obtaining power.

We do see that Tommy is aware of his children's emotional state but seems unable to comfort his son. He goes as far as to have Arthur be the one to talk to his son about why he had to shoot his horse.

Tommy clearly cares about his children. He runs through a field of landmines to save his son, when he had almost stepped on one to purposely end his own life. Tommy goes nearly mad when he finds out Alfie Solomons was involved with the enemy that kidnapped his son. He shot Alfie for that betrayal with the intent to kill.

When Ruby became ill and he thought was all due to a curse, Tommy hunted the woman down. He went on a bloody rampage because he thought it would save her. With all of this, we know he is a loving father. But without Grace, he doesn't seem to know how to show that love.

Let's say that there is no Grace, only you, and that no sapphire is ever put around your neck.

That Thomas might be different than the one we saw parenting Charles and Ruby. I think he would want more than two children. I think he would be the sort of man who would say "one is enough," but really he wants four.

He would never raise his voice in his home without good reason. Tommy knows what its like to have a father that rules through fear and honey. He won't be kind only when he wants something. He won't make his children afraid of him.

Personally, I do see him as prime girl-dad material. Like he would have one son and three girls. Regardless of the birthing order, he calls the boy his "heir," but spoils the girls. They each have their own horse, a wardrobe of beautiful clothing, and freedom to do literally whatever they want. He has opened his briefcase to find dollies and teacups from your youngest girl's tea set before. She thought he would be lonely at work.

His girls would be the sort to follow around staff and ask them intrusive questions. Tommy would not be immune. His daughters would probably ask him questions like: "Do you not grow hair on the back of your hand daddy? Is that why it's only on top?" At least one of his daughters would have a "I'm totally a witch," phase where she's flinging curses just like he used to. Only with her, it's cute because she's only nine.

The only son of Thomas Shelby would be safely tucked under his wing. At your imploring, he would take your boy on long car rides or out into town without his sisters to bond. The boy has a lot of pressure on him to succeed, Tommy doesn't always sympathize with that.

All four of his children would be little hellions. He would be dragged to see their school's headmaster on a near weekly basis. To the point where he isn't always sure which of his kids is in trouble sometimes. He just drops a donation to the school and the problem goes away. That's not to say your children are bratty or terribly spoiled. Well, they are, but not unbearably so...

Tommy makes sure his children understand where he came from. He brings them all to the Cut to watch the ships come through. Loves to leave them at Charlie's yard for an afternoon of mischief and bonding time with "Grandpa Charlie." They also get dropped off at Aunt Polly's home for weekends every now and again. The girls always come back with a new swear word.

They are new money, not old money. There are those who will look down upon them based on this alone. He makes sure his children are educated and well-rounded individuals. Tommy often worries about the state of the Shelby Empire after he dies. You remind him that he "isn't allowed to die," before you say so.

Tommy is still more distant than you would like him to be. He's so focused on his goals, it's like he forgets all about Arrow House and the family that lives there. The oldest two girls have said as much to his face once before. He took the family on holiday after that. You knew he would go right back to long nights in the office, but it was still sweet.

Life with him is hardly perfect, but it's closer to it than you could have with anybody else. And that's enough.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby x you

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slut4thebroken · 11 months

Text

Cillian Murphy & Characters Masterlist

Smut - ❤️

Fluff - ✨

Angst - 🖤

Dark content - ❗️ (noncon elements)

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

main masterlist

𝑷𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅:

༺˚ʚ Cillian Murphy ɞ˚༻

Stepdad!Cillian x cheerleader!reader ❤️

Stress relief ❤️

༺˚ʚ Emmett ɞ˚༻

Second Chances ❤️❗️

Ultimatum ❤️❗️

Emmett x wife!reader “series” ↓

Home Improvements ❤️

The Recipe ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Partners ❤️

All Work, No Play ❤️❗️(ongoing)

Practice Makes Perfect ❤️

Stranger ❤️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Exposure Therapy ❤️❗️🖤✨ (ongoing)

Favorite Toy ❤️✨ (sub!jon)

baby bat ❤️❗️(blurb)

Meant to Be ❤️❗️

Nymphomania ❤️ (age gap🥰)

Dangerous Game ❤️

Doctor’s Orders ❤️❗️

The Incident ❤️❗️

Erotomania 🖤❤️ (ongoing)

Safe ❤️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stuck ❤️

Little Black Dress (pt. 1) ❤️❗️

Until Next Time (pt. 2) ❤️❗️

Just a Dream ❤️❗️

Tease ❤️

Bully stepbro!Neil pt. 1

Promise ❤️

Pool Party ❤️

Possessive!Neil x bsf!reader drabble

Vacation ❤️❗️

Stay ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon 🖤 (pt. 1)

Daddy’s Little Girl ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

Trapped ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Childhood Enemies Turned Lovers? ❤️ 🖤 ✨ (ongoing)

Name Your Price ❤️

Party Favor ❤️❗️

The Deal ❤️

༺˚ʚ Thomas Shelby ɞ˚༻

Tommy’s Pet ❤️

Sweet Dreams ❤️❗️

Needs ❤️

༺˚ʚ Other ɞ˚༻

Earn Your Prize ❤️ (choose your own character)

༺˚ʚ Head Cannons ɞ˚༻

Stalker!reader pt. 1

Stalker!reader pt. 2

Glory hole

Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒔:

༺˚ʚ Jackson Rippner ɞ˚༻

Jackson Rippner x stalker!reader ❤️

Jackson Rippner x fbi agent!reader ❤️❗️

༺˚ʚ Jonathan Crane ɞ˚༻

Sex pollen ❤️

Scarecrow x vigilante!reader ❤️❗️

Change 🖤

Sub!Jonathan Crane ❤️

Jonathan Crane x innocent!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Neil Lewis ɞ˚༻

Stepbro!Neil ❤️❗️

Desperate!Neil accidentally sticks you in the wrong hole and can’t stop ❤️

༺˚ʚ Raymond Leon ɞ˚༻

Timekeeper Raymond Leon pt. 2 ❤️

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Capa ɞ˚༻

The bet ❤️

༺˚ʚ Robert Fischer ɞ˚༻

Raymond x Robert x criminal!reader ❤️

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prettybillycore · 9 days

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A Girl in the Men of Letters || Thomas Shelby x Winchester!Reader

Pairing(s): Winchester!Reader x Thomas Shelby, Minor Dean Winchester x Castiel

Universe: Peaky Blinders + Supernatural

Summary: When Dean and Cas’s daughter (Reader) is left home alone in the bunker, she discovers a door that leads to the dangerous world of 1920s Birmingham. It doesn’t take her long to meet the one and only Thomas Shelby, who is quickly captivated by her Winchester charm. Will Reader fall head over heels for Tommy too or will she recognize the dangers of the Shelby family and stay away?

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 6.0k

Warnings: unprotected sex (p in v), age gap relationship (reader is in their 20s and Tommy is in his 40s), fingering, swearing, drinking, mentions of underage drinking, alcoholism

A/N: WOOO! My first smut??? Are we really here??? Oh my god….

Read it here under the cut or on AO3

You were never supposed to go snooping around the bunker without your dad, his boyfriend, Castiel, or your uncle, but when did you ever listen to the rules anyway? You were an adult, you shouldn’t have to follow rules set by your dad all the time. It felt silly and childish. Yet, here you were, sitting by yourself in the bunker, not doing anything.

Since Castiel had gone missing, and the angels were out to get your family, your father pretty much kept you under lock and key. You were in the library, staring at another book about angelic lore and the words were no longer making sense to you. You slammed the book shut and groaned in annoyance. Uncle Sam and your dad had been gone for five days so far. You were starting to go stir-crazy. This is what led to your exploration of the bunker alone.

A lot of the doors in the bunker were unexplainably locked. They had been since before your family had arrived at the bunker. You and your family had no idea how to open the doors, and after some monsters crawled out of a previously locked one, your dad forbade you from opening any that didn’t open on their own. What your dad didn’t know is that you found an old key ring a few weeks ago stashed in one of the boxes in the library when you were researching vampires with Uncle Sam. Now that no one was here, you could actually see where they might lead. The last locked door that opened was an accident. A witch from the 1980s came through the door and gave your family quite the trouble. Eventually, Uncle Sam and your dad were able to catch her and dispose of her, but not before she nearly took you out with a few of her spells. You didn’t know what would be waiting for you on the other side of the new locked doors, but you hoped it would be something to spice up your days.

None of the keys on the ring you found were labeled, so you just had to guess where they might fit. You hoped they fit into any doors at all. You would hate if you went to all the trouble of hiding the key ring just for the keys not to open any of the doors in the bunker. The first door you tried was at the end of the hall where your bedrooms were. It didn’t unlock with any of the keys, so you moved on to a door near the entrance to the kitchen. No luck there, either. You were becoming slightly frustrated, but you pushed forward. Two more doors down another hall didn’t open. You were starting to think maybe your worst fear was true, that the keys didn’t open any doors in the bunker at all. That is until you tried door number five. The first key didn’t work, and neither did the second. However, when you placed the third key up to the lock, it slid perfectly. The sound of the key turning and the mechanism unlocking filled your heart with excitement. Finally, there was going to be something to do while your Uncle Sam and Dad were gone. Surely, your adventure into this door wouldn’t be more than a few hours. They wouldn’t even know you were gone in the first place. You pushed open the door with all your might and were disappointed when you were met with a small, dark coat closet. Really? A coat closet? You thought to yourself. Was this all there was to it? Just an entryway into someone’s dusty old coat closet? You thought surely there had to be more to it, so you filed through the coats hanging up. They were women’s wear and what you assumed was stylish for the time period, though very different from your regular clothing. You could hear muffled talking coming from somewhere on the other side of the closet, and you were just dying to know what was out there. You took one look back at the bunker before slipping on one of the coats and a pair of creme-colored high heels.

On the other side of the coats was a large wooden door; the detailing looked old and pretty. The door itself looked old and heavy. You shut yourself into the closet, leaving the bunker behind, and walked forward into the new door. You opened it slowly and quietly, not knowing what was going to be waiting for you on the other side. You jumped out of your skin when you were almost immediately met with the sound of a woman’s voice. “My my, the men of letters don’t usually send women; what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice was raspy yet smooth, with a thick accent that you couldn’t quite place. She was sitting in a chair across the room from the closet. She was eying you closely. She may have sounded somewhat friendly, but she was definitely still assessing whether or not you were a threat. She was older but still had a fire in her eyes. She was smoking a cigarette and was waiting patiently for an answer.

You dusted off the front of your coat, not that it did you much good, in an attempt to look more presentable to the woman in front of you. Of course, she thought you were from the men of letters; they must have some connection to every place the bunker leads. “There have been some issues within our organization and so some of our records have not been kept orderly. I’m here to check up on how things are going.”

She seemed to believe you. “Dreadful. I hate the man they usually send anyway. It would be much nicer if they sent you from now on. I’m guessing I’ll need to fill you in on some of our operations since your data has been lost?”

You nodded. “That would be wonderful, Ms–”

“Everyone around her calls me Aunt Pol.”

“Duley noted. That would be wonderful, Aunt Pol.”

You now noticed the second presence in the room you were in, who Aunt Pol had been talking to while you were in the coat closet. A man, leaning against the door, smoking a cigarette, much like Aunt Pol was. He caught your attention immediately. He was decently older than you, you being in your early twenties, but that didn’t really seem to matter. His eyes were a crisp blue like the sea and his hands were worn in the same ways yours were– what years of hunting will do to you. “You’re free to leave, Tommy. This is women’s business,” Aunt Pol said with a smile.

Tommy blew the smoke out of his chest. He eyed you carefully. It was a look you recognized from your work. He was trying to get a read on you. “I’d like to hear what the lady has to say for herself, and I’d love to know how you explain our business, Aunt Pol,” Tommy replied. He took another puff of his cigarette.

The air was heavy with smoke now. You did your best not to let the smell bother you. Aunt Pol smiled at you this time. “Why don’t you have a seat–”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n, why don’t you take a seat, and we can talk business? Tommy, you can stay if you so please,” Aunt Pol gestured vaguely to the couch across from her spot in the chair she had been perched in.

Tommy began to walk over from his place near the exit. “I wouldn’t miss this meeting for the world,” he said.

| < ♥️ > |

After your meeting, you let yourself fall into this world. There was something charming about Tommy that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His voice was smooth, and his accent was thick. You found yourself hanging on every word that came out of his mouth. Aunt Pol was quick to notice your feelings toward Tommy, but she said nothing. She was curious how it would all play out. You were now in a pub, your system buzzing with cool liquor. You were no stranger to drinking. You had been drinking since far before the legal age of twenty-one. You were barely past twenty-one now, but that didn’t matter with Tommy, not with him, not within this pub. The legal drinking age was definitely lower, and no one even questioned your presence in the space. What you did notice people questioning was Tommy being seen with someone substantially younger than himself. You felt the creepy eyes of the older patrons of the pub tracing your curves. You grimaced and tried to drown the feeling in whiskey, something you learned from your dad, but it wasn’t really working this time. You and Tommy were standing at the countertop, receiving free drink after free drink from the barkeep. He was no fool. He also noticed the looks that you were attracting from around the bar. No one dared look at him the wrong way, but that didn’t mean they left his dates alone. Wordlessly, Tommy wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. He was almost using his body to block yours from view. His fingertips ever so slightly pressed into your skin. You felt heat rise to your cheeks but said nothing. Another drink was placed in your hand as soon as you finished the one you had.

“Tommy!” A voice cut through the crowd. “Who do you got here?” You turned your head to look at the person speaking, but Tommy’s arm kept you from fully turning around. Two men were looking between you and Tommy: a younger man with a cigarette in his mouth and a slightly older man with a thick mustache. “Does she have a name?” the younger one asked. He was the one who had originally called out to Tommy, too.

“Boys, this is Y/n. Y/n, these two are my brothers, Arthur and John,” he explained.

You smiled at them both. “Lovely to meet you.”

John grabbed the cigarette from between his teeth and grinned. “Where did you find a fast woman like her? Don’t see her type around the city often.”

Tommy’s eyes darted around. No one was paying much attention to the brothers’ conversation. “Would you believe the Men of Letters sent her?”

Arthur laughed. “Those bastards sent an angel like her? What changed?”

“New management,” you said with a smile.

“I’ll drink to that,” John replied.

Tommy gestured to a door off to the side of the bar. “Let’s take this somewhere more private.”

“Agreed. It’s crowded out here tonight,” Arthur started.

“Probably all the patrons staying extra long to gawk at your girl, Tommy,” John said with a laugh.

You felt Tommy’s fingers grip your hip a little bit tighter at John’s words. You were surprised by his interest in you. It was no surprise that you were interested in him– he was everything that a girl could dream about. Handsome, powerful, rich, and mysterious? Sign you up. However, you found his interest in you a little shocking. You didn’t know what he could possibly see in you. Still, you didn’t mind being the object of his affection for the time being. You were interested to see where it would lead you.

| < ♥️ > |

You and Tommy were the last ones in the pub. Even his brothers had long gone home. Tommy was behind the bar, pouring himself yet another glass of whiskey while you leaned on the countertop. Your whole body was fuzzy, and your heart felt like it was about to burst every time you made eye contact with Tommy. The alcohol in your system was not helping how much your little crush was affecting you. His eyes trailed up and down your form. “What? What are you staring at?” You asked.

He seemed slightly taken back by your boldness. “You’re the only thing to look at in here, love.” He took a small sip of the drink in his hand.

“It’s late,” you started, “I should be getting back home.”

Tommy shook his head. “No can do, Dove. Aunt Pol is definitely asleep by now. Your only option is to spend the night in Birmingham.”

“But where would I stay here?”

“Well, seeing as you are drunk and we’re the only ones left in the pub, you can spend the night at my house. I’m not letting you go anywhere else alone. It’s too dangerous,” He said. His mind was already made up.

“I guess I will accept your invitation then, Tommy. Lead the way whenever you’re ready,” you replied with a soft smile.

| < ♥️ > |

Tommy insisted that you take his bed, and he would take the couch, no matter how much you protested. He showed you to his room; it was quaint and quiet. The only noise that could be heard was a bit of movement from the world outside. You shrugged off the coat that you had stolen from Aunt Pol’s closet all those hours ago. You could feel Tommy’s eyes watching you closely. You didn’t feel like there was much to show– you were wearing a simple T-shirt and shorts with one of your dad’s flannels draped around your shoulders. Still, Tommy’s eyes searched the little bits of your skin that had been revealed. You pretended not to notice. “Thank you for giving me a place to stay. It’s very kind of you.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you out in the cold, Love.” His words were simple, but you could tell that he genuinely meant them.

“I’m not sure what exactly I’ll wear to bed. I didn’t plan on spending the night here,” you replied. Tommy had already put on a nightshirt while you used the bathroom when you first arrived at the house. His eyes flicked between you, and the shirt draped across his chest.

Without a word, he pulled the shirt up over his head. He held the fabric out to you, a small smile on his face. “This looks like it will fit you,” he said. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as your eyes scanned over his bare chest. His muscles were toned, and his skin was scarred and tattooed. A familiar warmth rushed to your core at the sight. Tommy’s appearance utterly took you. You didn’t know where to look as you took the shirt from his outstretched hand. Everywhere felt like too much, but your eyes settled on a tattoo on the upper part of his chest. “Oh, that? I have tattoos older than you, Love.”

You smiled at him. “I have one tattoo myself.”

“Really? Care to share?” He asked.

You, without much thought behind the action, pulled your shirt over your head, revealing the anti-possession tattoo that graced your chest. Every hunter needed one; you were no exception. That didn’t matter to Tommy, though. His eyes traced your newly exposed skin. With the hand that had the shirt in it, he reached out and traced the inner circle of the tattoo, taking a step closer to you. His breath was quiet and steady. Yours was louder and more breathy. This did not go unnoticed by Tommy. His hand moved from your tattoo to your upper arm, gently pulling you closer to him. “Tommy?” You questioned quietly.

“Hush, Love,” he replied. He brushed your hair out of your face with his hand and leaned in, firmly pressing his lips to yours. Your stomach was doing flips, but you chose to ignore it. You dropped the shirts in your hands and wrapped your hands around his neck, losing your fingers in his hair. Without breaking the kiss, Tommy slowly backed you up toward the bed. When your legs hit the edge, you squeaked in surprise. He chuckled lightly at your reaction. Tommy gently moved his hand to your back and guided you down onto the bed, only briefly breaking the kiss. Once you were properly on the bed, Tommy positioned himself over you and connected his lips to yours again, even more passionately than the first time. His hands were on either side of your body, trapping you on the mattress, but you didn’t really mind. You placed your hands back in his hair, ever so slightly pulling on the ends. He nearly growled at the contact, moving his lips from yours to leave a stream of kisses on your neck. “T… Tommy…” you moaned as he started nipping at the skin on your sweet spot.

He groaned at the sound of his name falling from your lips. He would do anything to hear it again and again and again. He continued his exploration of your upper body, biting not hard enough to leave marks but just enough to make you moan his name. He pulled away for a moment and sat up; you whimpered at the loss of contact. “You can’t be making pretty sounds like that, love… That’s dangerous…” He helped you sit up just enough that he could take off your bra. As soon as it was off, his eyes were exploring the newly exposed skin, hungry for more of you. “Fuck… You’re gorgeous…” The words rolled right off his tongue. He didn’t even think about it. You blushed slightly at the compliment. Suddenly feeling slightly exposed, you tried to cover your chest with your hands and arms. Tommy instantly wasn’t having that, he grabbed each of your arms and pinned them to the bed. “Don’t hide from me, Y/n… I want all of you.” His face was only a few centimeters from yours, the words hushed, almost just a breath that came out of his mouth.

“Okay…” You replied quietly, still feeling a little unsure.

Tommy caught on to your nervousness, moving his hands to be next to yours instead of pinning them. “You’re okay, Love. You tell me to stop, I’ll stop.”

You shook your head, “No. I want this. I want you…” Your blush grew, but you didn’t attempt to hide your face. You kept your eyes trained on Tommy’s.

He smiled softly, gently connecting his lips with yours again. One of his hands moved to your face, cupping your cheek. The kiss was passionate but gentle. You smiled into the kiss, hardly able to contain how happy you were to be experiencing this, to be experiencing Tommy. He broke the kiss and began working to unbuckle his pants. You blushed even redder at the idea of what was coming next, but you were thrilled. He threw his pants and boxers to the side, and the sight of him nearly took you out. His hands found their way to your hips, and he grabbed the waistband of your shorts, his eyes flicking up to yours. “Are you okay with this, Love?”

You nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

He made quick work of your shorts, pulling them down and throwing them somewhere else in the room that didn’t matter to either of you. He chuckled a little bit at the sight of your underwear. “My… Someone’s wet…” He teased, gently rubbing your core through the thin fabric. You couldn’t hold back a moan. “All this for me?”

He quickly maneuvered his fingers underneath the fabric, finally making contact with your dripping center. “Fuck Tommy…” you moaned as he began to move his fingers.

“Oh yeah? Does that feel good, Love?”

“You feel so good, Tommy…” You breathed.

“You are the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen… keep making those pretty little noises and saying my name, Love…”

“T… Tommy…” You mumbled. It was almost hard to hear you said it so under your breath.

“You can be louder than that, Love,” he stated.

“I need you… inside me…” you moaned. He pulled his fingers away almost instantly, and you whimpered again at the loss of contact. “Tommy…”

Without a word, he pulled your underwear down your legs and threw them into the dark abyss of a room. He lined himself up and looked you in the eye. “You’re sure?” He asked.

You nodded. “Yes, Tommy. Please… Please, for the love of God, fuck me…”

He chuckled lowly, almost growling. “I think God left us a long time ago, Love…” With that, he slowly pushed himself inside you. He gave you a couple of seconds to adjust before he began moving, but it felt so good it didn’t even matter once he started. Your moans quickly became louder and closer together. You couldn’t hold them back.

“Fuck fuck fuck… Tommy…” The words tumbled out of your mouth like a prayer.

He looked at you, his eyes dark. “You feel so fuckin’ good, Y/n…”

“Fuck… Tommy, I’m close…” You whispered, feeling your climax building.

“Me too,” he replied in a similar hushed tone. “Cum for me, Love.”

You moaned again at his words, feeling the knot inside your stomach build and then release into the best orgasm you think you’ve ever experienced. You were breathing hard, and Tommy wasn’t far behind you; you felt his cum enter you. After he finished, also breathing hard, he let himself drop down on top of you, laying his head on your chest. The room was quiet, and you felt at peace with Tommy lying on you. You ran your hands through his hair, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You close your eyes, feeling the most relaxed that you think you’ve ever felt. There was just something about being with Tommy that made you feel safe. His breath slowed and steadied; yours did, too. You let yourself fall into a deep, peaceful sleep in Tommy’s arms.

| < ♥️ > |

The next morning, you awoke with Tommy’s arms wrapped protectively around you. He was still asleep when you woke up. The rise and fall of his chest was steady and soft. It was the first time that you had seen him look truly peaceful. You smiled at his resting form. He slowly opened his eyes, raking them over your exposed skin before meeting your eyes. He smiled back at you. You think it’s the first time you’ve seen him actually smile. “G’mornin’.” The word falls from his mouth. His accent was thick with his morning voice. God, this was a sound and sight you could get used to.

“Morning…” You replied, a soft look gracing your features.

“How are you, Love?” He asked.

“Good. I could stay like this forever.”

The idea brought that smile back to his face. You wanted to see it over and over again. “You’ll have to come back the next time the Men of Letters have business with us. I’d be happy to have you as my guest again.”

“That won’t be difficult… The Men of Letters like me a lot…” you lied through your teeth. You felt a small pang of guilt for lying to Tommy after you two had become so close, but you knew you couldn’t tell him the whole truth… there was no way he would believe you.

“I can see why,” He mused, gently playing with the tips of your fingers.

“All the screaming stops when I’m with you…” you said quietly.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What screaming?”

“I’ve seen a lot,” you started. “I’ve seen a lot of people die. I’ve heard a lot of screams, a lot of death rattles. Normally, when I lay in bed and close my eyes, I hear the screams of all the people I couldn’t help or I couldn’t save, but… with you, the world is quiet. I don’t hear the screams anymore…”

You assumed Tommy continued to play with the tips of your fingers in an attempt to comfort you. It was a sweet gesture that made your heart go soft. “I can’t hear the shovels when I’m with you, so I guess we’re even.”

“The shovels?” You asked.

Tommy sighed. “Troubles from my time as a soldier… I always hear shovels coming against the far wall. Usually, they break through before the sun rises, and I am jolted from my sleep, but not last night… not with you.”

“I’m glad I could bring you a little bit of peace,” you replied, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers. “I could get used to waking up next to you…”

Yet again, Tommy flashed a smile at you. It made your heart swell. “We’ll have to do this again sometime soon.”

“I would love that,” you returned his smile. He gently placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling away from you and getting himself out of bed. The lack of warmth saddened you that this caused, but you were made curious by Tommy sticking his hand out toward you. You sat up in the bed and reached your hand out to his. He swiftly pulled you from the bed into a warm embrace, his arms draped around your midsection, his forehead leaning on yours.

“We should get you back to Aunt Pol’s house,” Tommy said in a hushed tone. “Get you home. You’ve already been here much longer than you originally planned. Someone on the other side of that door is bound to be worried about you.”

You sighed, leaning up, stopping just before your lips touched his. “Just one more kiss for the road… something to remember the night by…” you said before grabbing him by the back of his neck and smashing your lips onto his.

| < ♥️ > |

You hung the coat you had taken back up; you felt like it was only right. You could hear Aunt Pol and Tommy talking through the door. You couldn’t make out what exactly they were saying, but you could hear Tommy’s low, raspy tone through the wood. It made it so hard to leave. You let out a soft sigh. What was the harm in staying a little longer? You were about to walk back out into Aunt Pol’s sitting room when you heard voices on the other side of the Bunker’s door. Your heart nearly stopped. Your family must have gotten back from their hunt. You quickly opened the Bunker door and fled through it, fumbling to lock it behind you with the keys. “Y/n!” Your dad called, “Y/n, we’re home!”

Once the door was shut and locked, you brushed off your pants and briefly ran your fingers through your hair, trying to make sure that you looked presentable. When you felt ready, you ran down the hallway and made your way to the main area of the Bunker, a large smile on your face. Your dad and your Uncle Sam both were smiling brightly at you as they came down the stairs. “Oh, Y/n, there you are,” Sam said, still beaming.

“Sorry, I was all the way in my room… What’s got you two so happy?” you asked, genuinely curious about their current state.

“We have a surprise for you,” Dean replied.

“Oh?” You questioned.

“Come on in!” Dean called.

Suddenly, Cas was standing directly in front of you; his smile was also wide. “Castiel!!” You cheered, engulfing him in a hug. Since he and your dad started dating, he has become like a second father to you. You had been so worried about him since he had gone missing, and you were thrilled to have him back. He hugged you back tightly, his arms wrapped around your back, gently swinging you side to side.

“It’s good to see you, Y/n… I’ve missed you,” he said quietly.

“I’ve missed you too… so much… I know my dad has too…” You pulled back from the hug so you could look him in the eye. You couldn’t stop the huge grin on your face. “This is a huge win for us. We have to do something to celebrate having Cas back.”

“Drinks are on me tonight. Do we feel like going out, or do we just want to get something from the store and watch a movie or something?” Dean asked, rubbing his hands together.

You laughed. You knew his go-to was to get a drink, but he hardly ever bought you a round when he had one. “I’m included? I’m honored,” you teased.

Your dad rolled his eyes. “So what are we feeling?”

“Probably safer to just get something from the store and stay in,” Sam replied. His face looks a little more gloomy than it did before. “Going out would be fun, but I don’t think it’s worth the risk right now.”

Dean sighed. “I hate that you’re right.” Dean ran his hand through his hair. “Cas and I will run and get drinks from the local convenience store, and then we can all have some and pick a movie to watch together. Sound like a plan?”

“So I’m still trapped in the bunker?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Dean let out another sigh. “We’ve been over this–”

“You were just talking about going out to a bar, and now I can’t even go to the store?” You snapped back. “I am tired of being in here. These walls get boring after a while, Dad.”

“Guys, let’s not do this,” Sam intervened, “We just got Cas back. This is a happy moment. It’s safer for you to stay in the Bunker, Y/n, but I’ll stay here with you while Dean and Cas go get the drinks, so you're not alone this time, okay?”

It was your turn to sigh. “Fine, fine. I’ll stay here. You better bring back something good to drink.”

“I always pick the best drinks!” Dean replied.

“Untrue,” you responded, completely deadpan.

“Cold,” your dad answered. “Come on, Cas. Let’s go.”

| < ♥️ > |

You, Cas, Sam, and Dean drank mostly beer and sat around the Bunker’s TV, watching movies into the early hours of the morning. Things felt almost normal again. You missed this; you really missed Cas. Now that he was back, things were starting to look up again for Team Free Will. You waved goodnight to everyone around 3 am and headed for your room. It was about the same size as the other bedrooms in the bunker, but you had really taken the time to make it your own. You had painted the walls your favorite color; there were thrifted decorations lining the walls and a cozy comforter covering your bed. You turned off the overhead light and turned on your bedside table lamp as you got ready for bed. You changed yourself into your pajamas and decided you wanted to run to the kitchen for a glass of water.

On your way to the kitchen, you pass Tommy’s door. You stopped at it for a brief moment, thinking about the events of the last day, and you blushed. You missed Tommy already, but you knew it would probably be a while before you could see him again. Your family was all back in the bunker, and they were definitely going to notice if you disappeared for hours on end. What you weren’t expecting was a soft knock coming from the door. You almost thought you were mistaken, that the sound wasn’t real… but then it happened again. You sprinted down the hall, back to your room, and grabbed the keys to the door as quickly as you could without being too loud in your footsteps. You fumbled briefly with the keys as you tried to open the door but eventually managed to unlock it and quietly pulled it open. On the other side, you were surprised to see Tommy. He looked tired, slightly bruised, and bloodied, though you had no idea what from. “Sorry to bother you at home, Love,” he said, his voice deep and grainy.

You looked both ways down the hallway. There was no signs of life. No one else in the bunker seemed to have been stirred by the knocking. You were in the clear (at least for now). You grabbed Tommy’s hand and pulled him all the way into the hallway, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not a bother. Never will be. What happened to you?”

The door shut quietly, leaving you both standing in the bunker. Tommy looked out of place. He didn’t fit the aesthetics of the bunker at all, but that didn’t matter to you in the slightest. He was perfect in your eyes, even if he was from a different time. “Doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I just needed to see you after the day I’ve had.”

Without saying anything else, you pulled him along quickly, taking him to your room. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in when the door shut behind you both. Tommy chuckled. “Based on how you’re acting, I’m assuming we’re not alone in this place.”

“Far from it,” you replied. “My parents are here, as well as my uncle.”

“Oh Christ…” Tommy muttered. “So your whole family are Men of Letters then?”

You felt another pang of guilt, similar to the one you had felt last night. You hated that you had to lie to him, but you felt like it was the safest option. “Something like that.”

“We’ll just have to be extra quiet then…” Tommy said. He closed the gap between the two of you, resting his hands on your hips. He pulled you closer by your hips, his lips hovering over yours. The only sound that could be heard was the noise of you both breathing. You put your hands on either side of his face and took the plunge, connecting your lips to his. One of his hands instantly started to slip under your pajama bottoms, causing you to moan quietly against his lips. He pulled away slightly, putting the pointer finger of his free hand up to your lips. “Quiet Dove… Wouldn’t want anyone to hear us…”

Suddenly, there was a knock at your door. “Y/n?” A voice called through the heavy wood. It was your dad. Your eyes went wide.

“Fuck!” you whispered. “You have to hide.” Tommy pulled away from you, and you were so close to whimpering, but you did your best to hold it together. “Just a second!” you called through the door. You grabbed Tommy by the hand and led him over to your bathroom. “Go in and lock the door. Turn off the light.”

He didn’t argue with you, though you could tell by the look on his face that he had some thoughts about your plan. You shut the door behind him and watched the light turn off from the crack under the door. You did your best to straighten out your clothes and hair before putting a smile on your face. You walked back over to your door and opened it, greeting Dean with that smile. “Hey, what can I do for you?”

“Everything alright? I could have sworn that I heard someone else’s voice in here…”

You gulped. “What? No… There’s no one else here. Just me getting ready for bed. I did have my TV on, though. Maybe that’s what you heard?”

Dean’s eyes searched your face. You knew he was trying to read you to see if you were lying. You held your ground. “Yeah, maybe that’s all it was. Let me know if there’s any trouble though, alright, Y/n?”

“Of course, always…”

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Dean replied with a yawn.

“Goodnight!” You shut your door behind your dad and locked it, taking a big deep breath when you couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore. Tommy let himself out of the bathroom, chuckling softly at your performance.

“I can’t believe you would lie to him like that,” Tommy teased as he walked over to you, resting hands back on your hips. “Where were we?”

You cupped his cheek, smiling brightly at him. You hate that you had to hide something as big as a lover from your family, but there was something about Tommy that made you not care about any of that. When you were with him, you could just be you. Not a hunter, not a Winchester, just you. “I believe you were about to kiss me again, Tommy…”

You smiled before he leaned down, once again connecting your lips to his.

-- END --

tags: @anijamess @weaponizedvirtue @deanwinchesterbrainrot

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evita-shelby · 2 years

Text

Diane Elizabeth

Another dad! Tommy ficlet. This time its Diane.

(Could be read as tommy x reader or tommy x eva since Mrs. Shelby remains unnamed)

Six years old (Florence) and The Shelby Boys (Charlie and Gabriel)

1935

Diane is ten when he catches her kissing a girl in the linen closet.

Not just any girl, no, his daughter had to get a crush on Bianca Sabini.

She may be the most well-behaved child in the house, but even she had her faults.

Her fickleness would be a problem.

At nine she decided she liked boys and girls.

At nine and a half she had kissed at least three boys and two girls. This she had bragged to him at dinner and making him choke on his whiskey.

At her tenth birthday she decided Bianca Sabini, daughter of Darby Sabini, would be the third girl she kissed.

1939

Dia is fourteen when she gets her heart broken by a boy.

None other than Nicholas Mosley in a romance that lasted all of three weeks.

“I hate him, daddy.” She cried as he held her.

He tells her it will be alright and bribes her with a pony.

Deep down Tommy knows it won’t be long until she’s stringing along another boy or girl.

By the end of the week, Tommy feels relieved to find her giggling with a nice Jewish girl.

He thinks he’s the only dad fine with his eldest child scoring for both teams.

Frida Solomons, nearly fifteen, the granddaughter of a Rabbi and only daughter of Alfie Solomons.

Better Alfie’s daughter than Mosley’s son.

1940

On her fifteenth birthday, she chooses Bobby Nelson-Kennedy, Jack Nelson’s seventh child to be her dance partner for her first dance.

“Could unite our families with them two.” Jack Nelson says as they pretend they aren’t bothered by this sudden romance between their children.

Lawrence Gray had set them up six months ago. Friendship had turned to a secret romance where Bobby believed his pretty English girlfriend hadn’t been disloyal to him with sixteen-year-old Johnny Dogs Junior.

“In your fucking dreams, Nelson.” Tommy said.

He’d rather have Johnny Junior marrying his little witch than letting her marry one of Nelson’s brats.

1945

The war ends and Diane is twenty.

She is an actress, famous for being the voice Churchill uses to keep people’s spirits up.

He is not surprised to find her with Charlie Chaplin’s son getting handsy with his little witch.

“Diane, I love you, Diane, I want to marry you.” Charles Spencer Chaplin III says at the top of his lungs and his daughter just laughs.

If Tommy had a penny for every time a boy asked for his daughter’s hand, he could retire for good.

“You need my daddy’s blessing, Charlie, love.” She says knowing her father will say no for her.

1951

Diane is twenty-five when she finally marries.

Diane runs off with a handsome pilot six months after her birthday.

She met him at aviary school and on her yellow biplane they leave for Gretna Green to marry.

“You’d hate him, daddy.” Flora says when he asks who this mystery boy his daughter has eloped with is.

“Who is he?” he asks again to the keeper of Diane’s secrets.

“Joseph Franz, son of Duchess Tatiana Petrovna and her Austrian husband.” His wife answered before running away like a teenager.

He chases after her, but never catches her. He’s sixty-one years old, grandfather to Charlie’s three children and Gabriel’s little boy, Luca.

Diane had called, “Daddy, Princess Tatiana says that we can only marry if I have your blessing,”

“Diane, I can’t give you my blessing if you aren’t here.” He tells her.

“You’d be mad, daddy, you see,” she paused. “I’m pregnant.”

On his sixty-second birthday, Thomas Michael Franz-Shelby is born.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #diane shelby #dad!tommy #oc writing #oc fanfic #diane is bisexual #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #peaky blinders fanfiction #oc fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

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tommyshelbyswh0re · 8 months

Text

the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby

summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?

trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.

angst

dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader

you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.

you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.

you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.

deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.

you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.

when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.

“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.

“huh?” he raised his brow

“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.

“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.

“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.

“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.

“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.

“never new tom had a daughter”

“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.

“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.

“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.

you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.

“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.

“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.

“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.

“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.

“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.

“you could say so yes” you replied.

“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.

“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.

“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.

for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.

“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.

you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.

the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.

“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.

a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.

“go easy” he sternly told you.

you glared at him.

from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.

“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.

“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.

“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.

“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.

“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.

“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.

“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.

“who?” tommy asked

“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.

“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.

“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.

“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.

just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.

on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.

the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.

you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.

“is that you y/n?” she smiled.

“hello” you suddenly felt shy.

“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.

“how have you been y/n?” she asked.

“good, i graduated school”

“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked

“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”

“why two jobs?” ada asked

“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”

“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded

“why would he?” you asked.

“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.

“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.

“yes”

“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.

“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.

“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked

“don’t have any” your shrugged.

“what about school friends?”

“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.

“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.

“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”

arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.

“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.

you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.

“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.

“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.

ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.

“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”

you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.

“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”

your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.

“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.

he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.

a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.

“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.

“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.

“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.

“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.

“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.

“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.

“i know” he nodded.

“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.

“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.

“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.

“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”

“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.

“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.

“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.

“its not really dinner talk is it.”

“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.

“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.

“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”

“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.

“you remember that?” he asked

“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”

“i am so sorry y/n”

“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed

“why did you come?” he asked.

“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”

“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.

“why?” you questioned

“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.

you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.

you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”

he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused

“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.

“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.

“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.

“okay.”

#peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #peaky blinders #polly gray #john shelby #arthur shelby #alfie solomons #angst #peaky blinder fanfic #masterlist

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