#dad!tommy shelby
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A Secret, a Fear and a Hatbox ~ dad!Tommy Shelby (Fluff)
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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!
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As His Daughter
A/N: for my Tommy and his darling wife!au. <3 told from their oldest daughter, Katherine/Kate’s POV.
Warnings: childbirth, not canon.
2.7k words.
The screams echoed off the halls of our home. I could hear my fathers footsteps pacing in the room in which my mother labored in. The midwife, nearly panicked by now, was sweating profusely as she called down the stairs to Frances for more boiling water and towels.
It was 1940, my mother should be giving birth in a hospital. I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms in front of my chest, staring into the fire. The front door opened and shut quickly and I heard my older brother, Peter’s footsteps. “How is she?” he asked, removing his peaky cap, blue eyes anxious.
“She’s fine. Screaming–” a blood curdling shriek was let out from the room upstairs. I pointed to the ceiling. “Like that. Other than that she’s fine.”
I could feel my brother's annoyance at me. “She’s always had difficult births, I don’t understand why you’re so cross with her.” he nearly growled at me, removing his coat and hanging it on the coat rack next to fathers.
“They’re too old to still be having children!” I spouted off, annoyance with both of my parents clear. “Father is nearly fifty, and mother just turned forty!”
“It’s not our life, Kate.” Peter told me sternly, sitting down in the chair next to me.
“I know that, but it’s embarrassing, don’t you think?” I asked, cheeks flushing.
“What’s embarrassing?” he asked, clearly unaware of the shame I felt at my parents more often than not.
I rolled my eyes again. “That you, their oldest son, is married, ready at any moment to have his own child, and they’re still having their own children?”
Peter flashed me a sympathetic half-smile. “She never told you, did she?” he asked.
“Tell me what?”
He turned away from me, looking into the fire. At that moment, my brother looked so much like the younger version of my father it startled me. Peter is a lot like our father, but softer, kinder in many ways.
“Mother gave birth to me alone. It was just her and Aunt Polly, and Aunt Esme,” he began, still not meeting my eyes. “Father had been taken and nearly killed. She spiraled into despair, not knowing what to do without him,” he sighed. “And when father was returned to the family, naturally, she was overjoyed. Two years later, she became pregnant with you, but her birth with you was traumatic. You were early and she nearly died. Father was more unbearable than normal. He nearly refused to give her more children until the twins for fear of losing her,” I looked down at my hands, folded in my lap, my parents' relationship making a little more sense as my brother fit all the pieces together. “Then after the twins, Claire was simply an oops, and this baby a big oops.” Irish twins, Frances had lovingly called them. “Father never forgave himself for denying mother the children she wanted, so this is his way of making it up to her. I do assure you, sister, this is the last baby. She told me herself. She’s completely exhausted.”
“I bet she is.” I snarled.
“Why are you always like that towards her? She’s nothing but kind to you despite all your snide remarks and unkindness.” he seethed, sitting back in his chair and lighting a cigarette.
“I don’t know.”
“Is it because she always takes fathers attention?” Peter asked and my heart sunk in my chest. He did tend to know me better than our other siblings, partially due to our age differences.
“Would it have killed him to pay us a little mind, Peter?” I asked, tears springing to my eyes.
Peter chewed the inside of his cheek. “He’s–a complicated man, Kate.”
“We don’t even know who he is.” I mumbled.
I could hear the cogs in Peter’s mind whirring. “I suppose that may be because you’ve never asked to know him,” he leaned forward, his forearms on his knees. “I’ve learned much about him the last few years.”
“It’s because you’re a man.” I replied, quickly brushing a tear off my cheek.
“That may play a part but it’s also because I’ve asked to know him. I also work for him.”
“You’re older than I am–it’s different.” I said again, crossing my arms tighter.
“Keep making excuses and you’ll never know him.”
We sat in an uncomfortable silence for a while, before we heard footsteps on the stairs. Heavy footsteps. Our father.
His hair was nearly all salt-and-pepper now, wrinkles prominent around his eyes. He looked tired. “Hello, son,” he greeted Peter kindly, walking over to where he was seated. Peter stood up and hugged him. “It’ll be any moment now, the midwife thinks.”
“Can you see the head?” I asked.
“They uh–” my father adjusted uncomfortably. “Had to turn the baby–was breeched.”
“Oh.” I said softly, heart panging in my chest for my mother.
“What brings you home, son?” my father asked, turning to Peter.
“Wanted to check on my mother. Sophie is out with her aunts and mother tonight, and I figured I didn’t want to be alone at a time like this.” he explained.
“Mr. Shelby!” the midwife called from the top of the steps. “Mrs. Shelby needs you!”
Without a second of hesitation my father turned and jaunted up the steps, two at a time. We could hear faint sobbing. “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. I’m tired, Thomas.” we could hear her sobbing to him, and him softly shushing her, encouraging her no doubt.
The grandfather clock in the foyer struck nine o’clock, and thirty minutes later, we heard shouts of joy and a baby screaming. “Kate! Peter! Come!” Father called from the top of the steps, the happiest look on his face.
We ran up the steps, eager to meet our youngest sibling. “It’s a boy,” the midwife said. Our mother lay in the bed, sweat streaming down her face, body trembling. We stood in the doorway as the midwife held the baby up for us to see. Wrinkled and red, dark black hair like the rest of us.
Father was smoothing Mother’s hair back from her face, peppering her forehead in kisses. “You did so well, my love. So well. He’s beautiful.”
“This is the last one, Thomas. The last one.” she told him as the midwife took our youngest brother to clean him off.
“What’ll you name him?” I asked.
Father looked down at mother expectantly. “Anthony James.” she told us, hands trembling as she reached for Father’s hand.
“Anthony,” I said aloud, liking the way it sounded. “I love it, mother.”
We chatted with our father from the doorway for a few minutes. The midwife returned a few moments later, the baby cleaned and squirming, ready to feed for the first time. “Children, if you’ll excuse us.” Father asked, turning towards our mother who held the baby at her chest.
We quickly left the doorway, the midwife closing the door softly behind us.
“Doesn’t seeing things like new life ever make you want to create your own family?” Peter asked.
I had always been repulsed by the thought of family. Mine confused me so much throughout my life. Our extended family had been rather close to us throughout the years, and faded slowly as each of their individual families grew, now practically all estranged. Father was always out and about, mother and Frances here raising us. I knew I never wanted to marry a man like my father–distant, cold, unyielding to anyone but his love. Stubborn. Arrogant. Prideful.
But I knew beneath all of those negative qualities there had to be some sort of redeeming quality or qualities, or my saint of a mother would never have married him. My mother, as my brother has said before, is everything our father is not. She is kind, warm, meek, and humble. She is frugal where father is frivolous, gentle where he is rough. It was never a secret, though, that us children always came second compared to either of them. Neither of them made that a secret. When I was younger, I thought their infatuation and besottedness with one another to be romantic. Now I found it repugnant.
I felt as though I always fell between the cracks the most out of my other siblings. Peter would always be the blessed first child, the twins would always cause a ruckus and Claire and, now, Anthony, would always be the babies.
At sixteen, I suppose it was time for me to start thinking of one day having my own family. Being the daughter of Thomas Shelby brought countless boys to our door, but father shooed any of them away that I didn’t want to have contact with. And I didn’t want to have contact with any of the ones who had showed up at our doorstep thus far.
Mother had told me recently it was time that I started attending social events, to get to know people better. I didn’t want to. I just wanted to be alone. After being in isolation for so long, the thought of being out there, with others, seemed intimidating.
Two days later, mother emerged from her bedroom, bathed and dressed. Weak still, Father carried Anthony down the stairs behind her.
“Good morning, Kate.” she smiled at me.
“Good morning,” I replied dryly. “How’re you feeling?” I asked.
“I feel better everyday, but I’m still tired.” she said, and I could see it in her face. The fatigue.
Isabel and William had already gone for their lessons that day, at the other end of the house. Mine were not scheduled to begin for another hour.
“I’m going to go walk around with him for a bit, love. Stretch my legs. I’ll be back shortly.” Father said, pressing a kiss to my mothers temple before he walked down the corridor, towards his office and the library.
“Kate,” my mother said gently, lowering herself into the chair next to me. “I’m sorry.”
My brow scrunched. “For what?” I asked.
My mother fiddled with her fingers in her lap, a habit she had when she was nervous–apprehensive. “I know I haven’t been as attentive to you as I should, and I am truly sorry.”
The tears in her eyes tore at my heart. “It’s alright, mother, you have six children and father and the business and with Sophie coming into the family, and–”
“And it’s all no excuse. I am a wife and a mother first and foremost and I have failed at the mother part,” she told me, reaching over and putting her hands on top of mine. “I’m sorry, Kate.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t been a very good daughter to you or Father.” I admitted. “We will be better together?” I offered.
“Yes. Better together, my sweet girl.” Mother said, squeezing my hands and smiling at me.
She removed her hands from mine, sitting back in the chair, sighing as she allowed her back to relax into the cushions on the chair.
“The Jones family is having that party next week, Mother,” I started. “I was wondering if you would help me pick a dress?”
“You’re going?” she asked, turning her head to face me.
“I probably should.” I replied.
A smile spread on her face. “I’d love to, Darling. Give me a few more days and we can go to London and pick the perfect one. Don’t tell your father yet, though. He’s having the hardest time with you growing up.” she said, turning again to face the fire.
“He is?” I asked, surprise in my tone.
She nodded. “You’re his first girl, Kate, and you grew up right in front of his eyes. He didn’t even get to catch most of it. He knows you’ll be engaged soon enough. Start your own life.”
“It’s his fault he didn’t catch most of it.” I snapped, ruining the sweet moment with my mother.
“Katherine!” mother yipped at me, sitting upright in her chair, eyes ablaze. “That was uncalled for. Your father loves you and has worked very hard so you can have the life you do.”
“Yes but he’s sacrificed being not present for his own ambitions.” I spat back.
My mother licked her lips, fury growing inside her. “Do you know what your father came from?”
“How would I? He never talks to me about who he was, is or wants to be.” I told her, not meeting her fiery gaze.
“Then I will make sure that he does.” she said, getting up from her seat and walking away, no doubt, to find my father.
A few days later, I was sitting in my room, reading my novel for lessons, and my father knocked on the door. “Kate! Let’s go, we’ve got to get to the city.” he said from outside the door.
I opened it, eyebrows furrowed together. “The City? For what?” I asked.
“Your dress for the Jones’ party this weekend.” he said, lighting a cigarette, an air of annoyance about him.
“Mother was supposed to take me.” I argued.
“She isn’t feeling well and asked me to take you.”
“Why can’t Frances?”
“Because Frances needs to look after the children. Will you please get your shoes on so we can go, please?” he said, breathing smoke out of his nostrils. I rolled my eyes and went to my closet to retrieve my shoes. “I’ll meet you out front.” he called.
Father had chosen to drive us himself to the city, I deduced by Simmons leaning on the drivers side door and talking to Father while he waited for me. I climbed in the passenger side and slammed the door, earning an annoyed look from my father.
“Enjoy your day, Mr. Shelby!” Simmons said, waving goodbye to Father and I.
The ride was quiet and tense, my father able to tell I did not want to go, but knowing I didn’t have the energy to put up a fight.
He dropped me off in front of one of my favorite dress shops and said he would be back shortly, that he needed to get something for the babies.
I picked out my dress and by the time he was back, I was waiting for him to pay for it at the front.
“Mr. Shelby!” the store clerk beamed. Why women always found my father irresistible I would never understand. “Your daughter picked out a beautiful dress.”
“Wonderful,” he said flatly, disinterested in the clerk's advances, as she batted her eyelashes at him. “How much do I owe?”
Her expression fell as she told him the total. He didn’t bat an eye as he pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and paid the clerk, bid her good day and ushered me out of the shop.
The way home he took a different way home, leading us through a run down, muddy town. “Where are we?” I asked as the car drove between rows of houses.
“This is Small Heath. Watery Lane to be exact. Where I’m from.” he told her. “That,” he pointed at a particular house. “Was my boyhood home, with my Aunt Polly.”
I faintly remember my gypsy aunt. She was a force to be reckoned with, and one of the few people who could give my father a run for his money.
“You lived here?” I asked, looking around at all the people staring at us.
“Mhm,” he mumbled. “Hard to believe?”
“I’ve always known you as who you are now, that’s all.” I explained, chewing the inside of my cheek.
“We were poor, and the war didn’t help anything. I came back and everything was destitute. Started running the business, took it over from my brother, Arthur. Met your mother. My whole life changed in a year.” he smiled faintly to himself.
He started the engine back up, launching into story after story of his childhood, of his estranged brothers, of his selfish father who I had never met. Vague stories of his time in the war. He told me of his medals he had won, of his rank in the army.
By the time we returned home, I knew more of my father than I did before, and I saw a small piece of the reason why my mother loved him as much as she did.
Over the rest of my adult years that I had with my father, I would come to find more of those pieces of why my mother adored him, and began to adore him in my own right, as his daughter.
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x oc#tom shelby#dad!tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fookin blinders#peakywomen#sneakyblinders
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The Ghost of New Year's Past
Or Polly decided to pop in and now its about Tommy & Diane(oc child) & ghost!Polly who has unfinished business.
Cw: Tommy’s canon depression and guilt over Polly’s death and baby's first contact with the dead(applies to both Tom and Diane)
Could be read as witch!Reader being Tommy’s wife or Eva since no name is mentioned.
He can’t bring himself to drink anymore.
He died that night on the field because in his heart he knew Polly had died because of him.
He sees her and hears her amongst his family as they celebrate the new year and Tommy leaves before it becomes too much.
Tommy has no idea where he is going when he passes by the children’s rooms and hears his eldest daughter, Diane, whispering to someone.
The children had been allowed to stay as late as they wanted but most had already been put to bed by now. In fact he’d personally tucked his little witch into her pink bed and kissed her goodnight hours ago.
“Can I tell daddy you’re here?” the little girl asks as her excitement has her talking just loud enough for him to hear her as he stops at her door.
Tommy cannot guess who would be here with Di, but none of them would be a good idea even if they were harmless little girls. Allie Solomons, Bianca Sabini, Janey Dogs, the little Gold girl who hates him for Aberama’s death, that friend of hers from school, the list goes on as Diane is ---unfortunately--- everyone’s friend.
“Di, sweetheart, I thought you said you were tired.” He comes in to find her sitting on her little table alone with biscuits and cake that she’d somehow gotten downstairs. He knew it was a bad idea to let her learn ballet, now the little witch moved as silently as she got up to mischief.
A trait she inherited from both him and his wife.
There is flash of light ivory satin on the bed in the corner of his eye, perhaps a dress or shawl Diane had taken out to play, but the room is otherwise empty.
“I was, but Aunt Polly came in and I asked her to stay.” The little girl with blue and brown eyes smiles widely and looks at the bed and he follows her line of sight. “She says she can’t have cake and biscuits because ghosts don’t need food like we do.”
“Hello, Thomas, did you miss me?” the ghost of his aunt sits there on the pink bed in the French dress his grandma stole, smoking a cigarette as if nothing had changed.
As if he hadn’t killed her and Barney and Aberama a year ago today.
“How?” he asks doing his best not to panic but feeling every hair on the back of neck rise in fear.
“Hmm, even with a witch for a wife you still do not believe we have magic in our blood.” Polly smiles and gestures him to sit on the bed.
“See I told you he wouldn’t believe it even if he saw me.” She turned to his daughter who tries to calm him with her small doll like hand in his.
“It’s okay, daddy, it’s just Aunt Polly.”
He can’t speak, his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his head spins. Tommy has never fainted in his life and now he tries to hold into something as he feels light-headed.
“And your dear old mummy thought none of you inherited her gifts.” The ghost woman chuckled but refused to touch him.
“How?” he asks again as he shut his eyes and hears Diane leave him alone here with whatever Polly is now.
“Our magical blood allows me to visit those with our gifts and sweet little Di is the most magical of all.” His aunt, his second closest confidant explained. “and I cannot ascend as I have unfinished business, dear nephew of mine.”
“What do you need to pass on?” he asks thinking perhaps if he helps her pass over to the other side he will have peace.
“I need you to swear you won’t kill my son. Even if my Michael believes you killed me, I need you to show him mercy and kill the fucking people who did.”
But that includes me, Pol, he wants to say.
“That is the guilt speaking, Tom. You didn’t kill us, or me least of all. Swing just knows how to get under your skin.” She reads minds now, but Polly always knew him better than he knew himself. “So, Thomas Shelby, do I have your word?”
“Will you never come back if he says yes?” Diane asked with a quivering lip from the door, she’d not left as he thought she did.
“No, sweetheart, I can’t leave until the bad people are gone. And when I go to heaven I will come every All Soul's Day.” The ghost answered softly and the girl calmed down long enough to rejoin them on her bed.
“So, Thomas Shelby, do you promise to do as I asked?” she turned to him again, a bit sterner somewhat impatient as they hear Arthur and John coming up with John’s children.
“Yes, Pol, you have my word.”
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Royal Ascot
Despite her mothers best intentions, Ruby wants nothing to do with being a debutante.
—-
“I’m not doing it.”
Tommy Shelby let out a sigh at his daughters defiance.
They were finally in a spot in life that could afford his daughter the things that he remembered his sister desperately pining after as they got older, and now that there was someone to offer boundless options of life to, they weren’t wanted.
She huffed in the chair across from her father, brown coils shuffling around her head as she shook it once again and tossed the letter from the Lord Chamberlain back into the middle of the desk.
“Your mother—“
“She didn’t even ask me!”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh, glasses now discarded as a long abandoned cigarette smoldered in the ash tray.
“At least,” she huffed. An interjection. Arms now crossed. “Oi! At least,” He pointed a finger as he stood, hands firmly planted in the middle of the desk, “you and I go to the horse race at the end of the season. These are the things we have to do now. It’s business. It’s politics.”
“The only way I’ll go,” her words offered a glimmer of hope for the moment, her eyebrow quirking in the same way her father’s would (rather a taunt to see it come across his own child’s face), as she rose to leave, “is if I’m the one racing the horse.”
“Ruby Elizabeth—“
She slammed the door of the office closed behind her with a final click, and he knew it was useless to try and pursue the topic any further.
#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#peaky fucking blinders#peaky fookin blinders#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby#ruby shelby#dad!tommy shelby
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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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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
#pedro pascal#joel miller#joel miller x reader#midnightswithdearkatytspb#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#fanfiction recommendation#fanfiction rec list#ktk recommendation list#2023 fic rec#ktk rec '23#moodboards#my recommendations#dark!joel miller#the last of us fanfiction#thomas shelby x reader#dad!tommy shelby x reader#john shelby#john shelby x reader#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel miller x reader#dieter bravo x reader#tommy shelby x ofc#din djarin x female reader#din djarin x reader x paz vizsla#paz vizla x reader
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#x male reader#tommy shelby x male reader#peaky blinders x male reader#peaky blinders x brother reader#dad reader#famer male reader#himbo male reader
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Leon and his father Konrad in Fox Sports’ Phenoms (X)
#repping that Tommy Shelby couture in the beginning like a true man#from what I could tell he talked about his Bayern transfer in this scene#spoiler alert: it was adorable#i love that he fist-bumped his dad on his way in the door lmao#leon goretzka#bri’s gifs
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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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While the moms are away
For @justrainandcoffee alfieverseray
Allie and Rose are her creations, Diane and Eva are mine
Cw: dad's playing dress up with their daughters, mentions of past cross dressing and slight mentions of couples sexual life
He adores his children, his daughters especially, but they took great delight in pushing his limits.
Eva usually took her to her playdates or hosted them. After all, his wife was charming and interesting ... and female.
She could wear costume jewelry and make up and a cheap feather boa as pink as the rest of Diane’s room.
Tommy Shelby would lose his next election if anyone even heard of this.
But he is not alone in his torment. On the other side of the tiny French table in an equally fancy tiny stool sits Alfred Solomons wearing the pink derby hat Eva never even wore once and painted with Eva’s favorite red lipstick. You know that one that had a matron at a charity luncheon call a whorish shade of red.
“Allie, sweetheart, you missed a spot.” Tommy knows he’s playing with fire, but Solomons pointed out Tommy had ear piercings and now Eva’s hoops hung from his ears.
He once pretended to be a girl so Greta could sneak him into her dormitory when they were teenagers and her father sent her to a catholic private school. For several weeks the matrons in charge believed he was Thomasine Shelby, cousin of Ada Shelby visiting from Cork.
And now he is plotting his revenge while they wait for Eva and Rose to return from some ladies charity bazaar they organized for her reelection campaign.
Solomons only glares at him murderously but bites his tongue in front of their daughters. Their strange friendship and enmity is only allowed to show in subtle things to prevent the children, the girls in particular, from hearing swear words in any language or see either father pointing a gun at each other again.
“Di, Princess, didn’t your mummy get you that wig at the costume shop?” Alfie asks with such a shit eating grin that only makes Tommy hate him more. “The blonde one you asked for because you wanted to be Rapunzel for Halloween?”
“Alfie, I will tell Eva to tell your wife about her Russian toy if you don’t stop.” Tommy warns, well, vows as the girls fit the long wig on his head.
Alfie knew what toy he meant, he’d heard of it from Tatiana as they made a change to their plans after the orgy. Tommy has been mocked by him for letting Eva fuck him like that ever since.
“Tell her, I dare you.” The Jewish Gangster smirked. Tommy wasn’t sure if the Solomons were as adventurous in bed as he and his witch were or Rose was not into dominating her husband like Eva was.
Tommy then decides it's just easier to shove him into the pond again even if Alfie drags him down with him. “Girls, how about we stop playing princess tea party and have a picnic by the pond again.”
A/N: the Russian Toy is the strap on Tatiana gave Eva in a Dull Party
#eva smith shelby#tommy shelby x oc#diane shelby#allie solomons#alfie x rose#rose coldwell#dad!alfie solomons#dad!tommy shelby#solomons and shelby
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Battue
“Pull!”
“Lost!”
She was off by a few feet. The slug landing in the field far away as she sighed in defeat. Disgust. The clay target landed with a hollow thud. It rolled. Her uncle shook his head, stood in the trench with a lit cigarette, and loading another of the reused, and unbroken clay targets into the rig.
“Pull!”
“Lost!”
Her brother wasn’t any better of a shot. He might have been worse even. She hoped he was doing worse anyway. She’d lost count.
“Okay, you two. Let’s try hitting them, eh?”
He clapped his son on the shoulder and knelt between the two kids, offering his hand to his daughter for the shotgun, palming two of the shells in his pocket and loading them in a single motion.
Ruby tried not to laugh, the sight of her father kneeling on the frosted ground next to her made him so short. Her mother would have a fit if she knew the shots being fired were coming from her and her brother. However, she couldn’t imagine they’d get grounded on Boxing Day.
Letting them shoot had been Uncle John’s idea after all. Her and Charlie were supposed to be the ones operating the contraption but her uncle had called for the switch up.
Presumeably so he could have a cigarette, but her father was having no issue with readying for a shot as the lit stick hung from his mouth.
“Pull!”
 And a hit.
“Dead!”
“Okay, Ruby, stand at my shoulder and watch. You have to track it as soon as it leaves the traprock and figure out where it will end up.”
She nodded, placing a small hand on her fathers shoulder as a cool breeze whipped through the air.
“Pull!”
She watched as it hurled through the air, shattering into pieces in the sky.
“Dead!”
“Okay,” he reloaded the rifle, the same quick, singular, motion that her hands would be far too small for, and handed it back to her, “someone make a shot so we can go back up to the house. It’s getting cold out here. Both of your noses look chapped.”
They both groaned in protest at the suggestion, “We’ll make some hot cocoa, eh? C’mon, John!”
He gestured vaguely at his brother, who was enjoying watching the situation. He who could strike fear in to the gut of any man having to barter with his children and bribe them with a treat to get them to go in by the fire.
“Pull!”
Charlie put the slug just inside the edge of the round, still sending it flying in chunks.
“Dead!”
“Pull!”
The silence hung in the air.
“Dead!”
She finally made one shatter. The triumphant smile that adorned his daughters face was better than anything Tommy could have asked for.
He bent to give her a hug, as they relinquished the shotguns to their original owners, both content children running and hollering back to the brick house, fueled by the promise of hot cocoa.
Taglist:
@zablife @kittycatcait219 @xbergiex @mariamyousef702 @moonxcillian @thedeadwalkingdixon @evita-shelby @wildheartsalwaysburn @midnightmagpiemama @putridstares @shelundeadxxxx @cybernuttragedy456 @samcoving @l1-l4 @sassyrebelrockerprincess @julyzaa @yoursalwaysleo @star017 @bubblewinegyal @elenavampire21 @samyyjorlando @inloveppp @peakyv @iamsuperwholocked @georgeparisole @rockerchick05 @yadiimilena @kmcaddams13 @jddbcgjdn @yomaxzito @t-ay10r @rainazinha @sikori-the-saiyan-princess-blog @inexpressiblybeautiful @crazyfoolishstupidme @julietweasley @drizzyreese @princessedelaserenite-1 @nik2blog @shuble @mimisalad @comfortzonequeen @ahart2819 @watercolorskyy @briannxh @sherlockvaleska
#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky fucking blinders#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#ruby shelby#charlie shelby#john shelby#peaky blinders fanfic#dad!tommy Shelby
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Please can I have a Tommy x daughter fluffy fic where as her mums died she asks him to come with her to try on ballgowns with her and he doesn’t like a few for different reasons but he gets emotional when she finds the perfect one
Hey Anon,
Hope this does it justice - this request got me in the feels. Thanks for waiting. <3
Warnings: Teen drama, mentions of funerals and death - peaky related stuff
There were a lot of things you kept to yourself when it came to your father. Most of which Esme and Polly would wrangle out of you and give you advice for.
You were close with each other the same way you suspected other fathers and daughters were. He was there to comfort you in his own way (mostly just holding you tightly) when you needed him, he gave you books to read and would try to remember to ask you questions about how you enjoyed them.
He was away a lot for business but he always called you before bed to ask how your day was. Some moments when he’d drank to much you saw the pain in his eyes when he looked at you, a spitting image of your mother but with his eyes.
You adored him, and rarely ever asked him for difficult things knowing he was always stressed.
“Awe, you miss us, don't you? Next time we go you’ll be old enough to tag along. An extra week won't kill you darling.” Esme’s voice rang out over the phone and your stomach sank. You were in a proper situation now. You said your goodbyes but didn't tell her why her taking an extra week's vacation with Pol was a problem for you.
You lit a cigarette and slid down the kitchen wall. They would be home the day of the big charity ball, not the type of event you could get a dress for the morning of. They must have forgotten that they’d promised to take you when they got back. You didn't blame them, this was the one time they got away from kids and the business.
You could ask… Lizzie? She hung around the family, worked for your dad, and seemed nice enough to you when you came by the office. She’d probably be able to help you.
You needed a backup plan, Linda still hadn’t forgiven you for an outburst you’d had at dinner a few weeks ago, but maybe John would help you?
You thought about getting ready with Esme he’d always tell her what looked good. Well, mostly how he enjoyed the way it looked on her, but still Esme always looked very happy with his commentary.
You got up and flicked your cigarette out the window before going to ask for a ride to the office.
You showed up and Lizzie greeted you with a large smile.
“Here to see your dad are you?”
“Well, I was actually - I -” The words got caught in your throat, she was far too pretty. Thinking of her seeing your awkward body in dresses made you shrink away. “Have you seen Uncle John?” You said quickly.
“Should be in his office.” She gave you a look and you thanked her. You knocked on the door and his voice called out.
“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up from a mess of papers. “Your da’s got me right tangled in this stupid paperwork. Give him a kick in the shin when you see him next will ya.”
“Sure.” You laughed. “Guess you're pretty busy then?”
“Be lucky if we survive another week with the hens gone.” He sighed, there was no way he’d be out of this mess any time soon, but maybe he could just tell you what to wear.
“What erm- What types of things does Esme wear that you like?” He looked confused by the question.
“Trying to impress a lad then? Odd person to come to for advice on that.” He scratched the back of his head but before you could fix what you said he’d already carried on.
“Look if he doesn't like you as you are then there's no point in going after him. Gal’s seem to think we care about all the fuss when really - we’re going to see eve-”
“What are you doing, love?” Your father's voice called from the doorway. Happier than ever to see him you sprang up from your seat and moved to give him a hug. Jarred by what you figured John was implying you decided to just pluck up the courage to ask him to go.
“Get that shit done John, needs to be out by tomorrow morning,” John swore at him and you followed your father out of the room his arm steering you into his office.
“What did you need from John?” He asked moving behind his desk.
“Well, I didn't want to bother you.”
“Trust me, love if it's worth asking, it’s not worthy of Johns's advice.”
“Ah, well, I need a dress for the ball.” You stated, and he gave you a curious look. “Um, well it's my first time really going, for the dinner and dancing and everything.” You coughed awkwardly. For a moment you hoped that he would just understand where this was going and tell you he’d help you, but you looked at his face and knew he was lost as ever.
“SO” you said a little too loudly. “I erm - need to get a proper dress, Polly and Esme said they would take me but they won't be back in time.”
You brought your gaze from the wallpaper once more to still see him still looking confused.
“You can have any dress you want, just give me the receipt.” He shrugged.
‘No- I erm. I just- need someone to go with me.” You confessed sounding irritated. “I don't know what looks good - I’m not good at that type of stuff. John always tells Esme what he thinks about her dresses when we get ready so I figured he would be a good person to ask.”
“I’ll take you.” He said uncomfortably. “We can go after-” He looked down at his schedule. “Can it wait till after dinner?”
“Oh, yeah - thanks”
“No problem,” He said with a nod looking only slightly put off.
“I’ll head back to the house -”
“I’ll grab you at 7”
You gave him a nod and then left the office saying bye to Lizzie.
Dinner was nice, you rarely ever went out to eat. You rambled on about a book you were reading and your dad followed along. Eventually, you started to tuck into your meal and he sighed.
“So there's a boy then?” He asked looking pained.
“No?” You said startled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes.
“No?” Tommy repeated looking at you with the look he gave when he felt you were lying. As a kid, you thought he had superpowers and could see in your mind.
“No” You shook your head grabbing your glass of water.
“John mentioned -”
“He didn't understand what I was asking. Don't need to be interested in a boy just because I don't want to show up in front of all those people wearing something embarrassing.” You said defensively, face flushing.
Tommy let out a hum and finished the last of his drink. Your last comment seemed to put him off even more.
You finished up dinner and then headed to a fancy-looking shop. The sign on the door said closed but you followed behind your dad as he pushed the door open.
The lady barely took notice of you as she shook your dad's hand, ensuring she would take care of anything he needs. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as she touched his arm.
He turned to you “alright free rein of the place, go pick some out that you like. I’ll start on this side.”
You almost wanted to laugh as if it was a joke but your father moved passed the woman and started on the far wall. She looked over your body and began pointing out some to try on.
You thought about her suggestions and said you would try them to be polite. If you turned up looking like a frosted cupcake Esme would never let you hear the end of it.
You moved to the long dresses and found a nice dark red one. It was a shimmery fabric but it was dark enough that it wouldn't bring too much attention. You had a feeling that it was the right one, but with the lower neckline you felt it might be a fight to take it home. You decided it was worth it and asked the woman to take it to the dressing room for you.
You found another few that you liked well enough, all of them were black and made of various materials.
You met back up with your dad in the lounge and saw him sipping another glass of amber liquid, a cigarette in his hand. He met your gaze and held his hands up in mock surrender.
“Wasnt much help out in the field but it’s only because I have faith in your abilities.”
You gave him a smile, happy to see him in better spirits. You put the first one on and hated it immediately. It was much too tight and it would be impossible to dance in.
“Not very practical.” You waddled out and you watched him point back to the dressing room sternly. “Alrighty then,” you murmured feeling embarrassed.
You tried the cupcake one on next and fought to work up the courage to walk out in it. You struggled to get it through the doorway and your father actually laughed.
A proper healthy loud laugh that was contagious.
“I feel like Esme would take the piss for ages if I wore this.” You looked yourself over in the mirror.
“Not just Esme. Didn’t think it would be possible to make you look anything less than gorgeous. In that line of thinking it might not be so bad after all. Don’t want this mystery boy enjoying himself too much.”
“Dad!” You snapped before fighting back into the dressing room. “There is no boy.”
“If you say so.”
You wore one of the black ones next. You walked out feeling comfortable, you thought the black would go with any jewelry and looked classy.
You looked at your dad and his face twisted slightly.
“No black.” His tone of voice took you off guard.
“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” you asked trying not to get worked up.
“No black.” He said firmly and you knew better than to challenge him when he sounded like that.
You went back into the room.
“Ah - that leaves one left.”
“Give it a go,” he called back.
You pulled on the red one and loved it instantly. It was grown up, hugging you in all the right spots without showing too much skin. The color made your blue eyes seem electric.
You liked it so much you didn't want to show it. What if he hated it as much as the black dress? Or thought it was stupid like the pink one.
You took a deep breath and called out. “Don’t be mean.” Then stepped out.
You looked at the mirror avoiding your father. It looked even better in the lighting. Eventually, the silence was too much.
You watched him take the dress in and thought you saw tears in his eyes. You wanted to run back and hide. Why was he being so weird? Even if there was a boy, it’s not uncommon at this age. Heck, most of Esme’s sisters were married by 16.
“That’s the one eh?” He finally said looking at you.
“Yeah. Think I look grown up, but not to - erm- showy”
“Grown up, is one way to put it.” He finished his drink and smiled at you. “I think you look lovely. Your mother has a necklace that will match with the color” He said softly. “-if you want to wear it.” He added hurriedly. For a long time, he thought her things might have been cursed, until one day he came home from a very long trip and said it was him that was cursed. You shivered remembering that night. You always avoided touching her things, her room untouched but not forgotten.
“I would really like that.” You said feeling emotional, you realized that the panic was about wanting to look nice, but some of it was anger that your mother was not there to help you. “Did she wear this color then?”
“Always red.” He nodded.
“Ah - well, I can see why.” You looked back in the mirror.
“Look - I know this sort of thing would have been more fun with Pol or Esme- and you probably miss your mum a lot these days. Lots of changes and whatnot.” He waved his hand uncomfortably. “But - well, I enjoyed this. I don’t mind being around for this stuff. I wouldn't have liked you more as a boy or anything like that” He cleared his throat.
Tears started to spill over something you hadn't even realized you were worried about.
“I love you.” You said. Felt strange standing on a platform saying it down to him as a saleswoman was probably judging them from the shadows somewhere.
“Love you too.”
On the ride home you both made jokes about different things, Arthur and John weren't very good at taking over for Pol and Esme and you enjoyed your dad’s commentary about trying to keep the place running.
When things quieted down you finally felt that you needed to end this boy nonsense.
“Dad?” You asked wondering how he kept the car straight while fumbling with getting a cigarette out and lighting it.
“Yeah?”
“There really isn't a boy, if there was John is the last person I would ask. One time he picked me up from school, years ago, and a boy, Tim Weatherby, had waved to me. He ran his car into the back of his parent's car three times before driving off.”
You watched your father let out another laugh. “Always classy.”
“I’d tell you first obviously. Esme would get too excited, and Pol would worry.”
“And what would I do then Eh?” He asked raising an eyebrow.
“Probably meet him and scare his pants off.” You answered honestly.
“That’s a good thing then?”
“Obviously. If he comes back it's because he really likes me.”
__________________________________
EXTRA - Tommy's POV
Watching her walk out in a black dress made the fleeting moments of humor leave him. He sort of saw her in the gown but his mind flashed back to that scared little girl all dressed in black.
“No black.” He said slightly out of control of the feelings biting into him.
“Why not? You’ll be wearing black?” He could see that you wanted to argue but he couldn't stand to see you in that dress any longer.
“No black.” He said firmly and you looked a bit deflated before retreating back to the dressing room. His mind pulled him back to that day. You attached firmly to his side, dressed in all black. The way you tried so hard to behave, tucking your face into his neck to cry as they lit the vardo on fire. How you even tried to hit Polly when she tried to take you from him. How you would panic if he was out of your sight for more than a few minutes.
No black. He ran his fingers through his hair.
The next dress hurt nearly as bad. Tears he had not cried in years welled up in his eyes as he looked at you taking in your body in the mirror.
So much like your mother, the style of the dress, the color. You were going to be an adult in a blink of an eye. Only small traces of that little girl left in your features. Now there would be boys and time left with it being just the two of you would start to slip away.
He thought the dress was much too showy, you didn't understand that yet though. Considering you would be standing next to him the whole night he figured it would be alright. You could pair it with your mother's jewelry and he could get Pol to convince you to wear it with a shall or something.
Eventually, your eyes looked at him for approval and he felt guilty for snapping at you. There was a very evident look of self-consciousness on your features. He wished it came more naturally to him.
“That’s the one, eh?” He said and enjoyed the way your eyes lit up. He may not be the best dad, but he would try hard to spend the last time he had with you. Find things to do with you, before you became busy with the rest of the world.
#Tommy Shelby#Thomas shelby#Shelby daughter#Tommy shelby dad#Thomas Shelby dad#Tommy shleby reader daughter#peaky blinders#Pekay blinders imagine#Thomas Shelby & reader daughter#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby one shot#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfiction
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strange weather rolling in - pettiot - Peaky Blinders (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
During S6-E2, Tommy's first day home after the visit to Dr Roberts and up to the seizure in the bath.
Lizzie had no grounds to go mocking his lists. Lists were how things got done.
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Tommy Shelby/Lizzie Stark, Charles Shelby, Ruby Shelby, Ghost of Oswald Mosley Lurking in the Room | Fluff (or the Appearance of Fluff), Family Bonding, Family Mockery, Puns, Dramatic Irony, Pre-Seizure Markers, Bedplay (horseplay too dangerous a word around Tommy), Comfort, Foreshadowing, Bittersweet, Inverted Gender Role Symbolism, Trying Hard
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#my writing#peaky blinders#tommy x lizzie#charles shelby#ruby shelby#this one came about after i searched what a 1930s dad might buy an eight year old daughter as a gift after travelling#'ribbons' was not what i was expecting as a repeated answer but so it was#just have this undercurrent ripping thing that tommy's had a full bottle of being mocked even affectionately#but has no idea what to do with that hurt/anger and so occasionally he might lean into the ridiculous rather than out
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Adding to Dottie's pinterest board and finding this
God damn did that hit me like a truck.
#OC: Dorothy Meadows-Shelby#I think about Dottie and Tommy a lot#like imagine waiting all your life to find your dad#and its tommy fucking shelby
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For @thatgurlsstuff ❤
I was thinking about Ruby convincing Alfie to let her ride a horse that Tommy won't allow her (because she's still too young for big horsies) but then she hurt her leg when she tried to mount the saddle (a smoll scratch) and Alfie is patching her leg.
And,
#I hope you like it❤#of course Alfie will let her ride that horse again in future but this time he helps her mount#it's a smoll headcanon of mine but I think we all agree that Alfie buys Ruby princess dresses gdyrudhu#her wardrobe's full of puffy lacey princess dresses. oh and small crowns too ahaha#and whenever he takes her on one of his business meetings she wears one of thems :)#aaand he'll be one of those dads who spoils his girl a LOT (and he enjoys it)#she spends like 23 of 24 hours in Alfie's arms. carries her around most of times and seats her on his leg when he reads her a book#also he likes braiding/brushing her hair hxyejdgf#he loves Charlie too#though I think Ruby will be so.. close/attached to him#merryandrewsart#alfie/tommy#kinda?#ruby shelby#alfie solomons#cyril
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Sometimes you go on tiktok and find the most amazing edit ever and are desperate for more but then you scroll and the video is about how to make cookies or random people fighting and you sigh and have to wait another 500 years before the tiktok gods decide to give you another great vid
#tiktok issues#maybe im just mentally ill#thats also a possibility#this came forth out of a vid on tiktok about our prime minister#and then a tommy shelby smut fic#my mind is incredibly weird#im also procrastinating and my dad will be mad when he finds out i didnt read shit#someone save me from the hell of having to do tests
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