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strayrockette · 2 years

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Hello!! How are you?? I hope you've been drinking tons of water. Need to stay hydrated 🦋

I was actually perhaps wondering if you could maybe write a reader insert 👉🏻👈🏻 With Tommy Shelby?? I'll probably put this in point form to get all my thoughts in order 😂

•The reader and Tommy are really good friends and she's basically part of the family. She helps Polly at the betting shop, and Tommy let's her help him out with the books.

•Despite her being close to the family, he still keeps her out of the Blinders business, so she doesn't know the more illegal side of the work he's doing but she has an inkling.

•One day, her and Polly are sitting around in the house, just chatting away when Arthur and John barge into the house. They freeze when they see the reader and ask to speak to Polly privately which she finds pretty suspicious because they're normally open to talking freely around her.

•They go up to one of the rooms and after a while, the reader follows. She eavedrops on the conversation, only to learn that Tommy is in possible danger. At that point she's basically so done with the threats and stuff (she's not oblivious to what's been happening and she's probably had her own run ins with people who have a strong hatred for Tommy), that she barges in and demands they tell her where he is. They try to stop her from interfering and tell her that they have it under control since it's part of Tommy's plan but she's not hearing it.

•Polly would probably be the one to tell her because she knows the girl can handle herself and is also too stubborn to give up.

•Cue the reader leaving in a haste to get to wherever Tommy is. When she gets there, she literally just made it in time to save him and she's barely flinching when she fires the gun (basically going with the idea that she's had to protect gerself more often than not, especially since the streets of Birmingham aren't exactly the safest)

•When she gets Tommy back to the house (after a looonng moment of silent treatment) he tries to speak to her and she just breaks down

•He's there to console her and eventually she's the one opening up to him about how much she had worried she was going to lose him and that she couldn't lose him after losing so much already. And then a confession could ensue from there??

•And from there, Tommy let's her in on more of his business and she could end up being his righthand woman in things, basically like how his brother's are ^-^

Sorry for the length of this 😅 also! It's perfectly fine if you'd prefer to do this as a gender neutral reader too 😁

And don't forget to make sure you get some water and get some rest too! 🦋❤️

Every time I reread this, I take a sip from my water bottle lmao 🤣🤣🤣🤣

But here is it!

Unexpected

Pairing: Tommyxreader

Genre: Fluff

Trigger Warning: reader has a gun and knows how to use it

A/N: I kind of got carried away with this 👉🏼👈🏼. Pretty sure I didn't catch all the grammar mistakes. If you find one please ignore it 🙂 🙃 😊

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

If anyone were to describe the role you had within the Shelby circle, they'd say you were family. A select few would even go as far as to say that you were Tommy's woman. You'd spent a considerable amount of time by his side. Often walking in and out of his office a few times a day. If anyone had first dibs on setting the books right it was you. You were good with numbers and even better at catching mistakes. And if any of the Shelby's had dibs getting your assistance it was Polly in the betting shop. Because no one dared screw up when you were around. Polly may have been a scary smart woman but even she couldn't catch onto people and their slick ways as quick as you. That was one of the many things she liked about you.

the first time you had met Tommy you were laying on his office floor, books laying neatly on either side of you and your feet swinging in the air as your hand flew across a piece paper, jotting down numbers and equations to calculate just how much money had been skimmed from the betting shop. Your initial goal was to deliver a message from Ada-she's a close friend of yours, granted you'd fallen out for a few years but you found your way back to her-to Bloody Fuckin Thomas Shelby (her words not yours) about staying away from her boyfriend.

But the minute you walked through the double doors of the betting shop and glanced at the large board with numbers detailing placed bets and money won, you just knew, that something was off about the numbers.

It doesn't add up, you told yourself numerous times as you flipped through four giant books that spanned over months of business incomes through bets.

Your brain tickled as you tried to understand why it seemed weird that one day seemed too little and another seemed too much. There should be some consistency, you'd mumbled quietly. You tried to leave it alone but as you looked at the board and stared over the shoulder of someone filling in the book with new info, you scoffed so loudly it made them pause. There are so many things wrong here, you thought off-handedly.

"Do you know how to spell?" You glanced at the pen in his hand and at his messy scrawling, "No, of course not. Who the fuck hired you?" You questioned. Why would someone put an illiterate fool in charge of transcribing the day's bets into a book? Not only that but why were the bets collected 2 pounds off from the calculations?

The persistent need to find the problem had you sending the man away and taking over the books. By the end of the night, you found that someone had been stealing minuscule amounts of money from the bets. Overall, you calculated that Shelby inc. had lost roughly 32 pounds over the course of 3 months. You weren't sure why the person had taken so little, any other normal thief would have taken their fill and looked for the first sign out of town. But you didn't care because you figured out why it was wrong and that was enough for you.

When you proudly presented your findings to one Thomas Shelby, you suddenly realized that you had no business digging into his business and inserting yourself the way that you did. You thought perhaps he'd call the coppers and have you arrested for trespassing but instead, he looked at you with his intense blue eyes and impassive face and asked you why you thought he was losing money.

And well that offended you greatly because it wasn't a matter of what you thought but a matter of fact. A fact you had relentlessly chased down. You told him as such, slowly going through your calculations and showing him your neatly scrawled numbers and pointing to each place in the books that were off.

One simple message and a carried away brain led to you having a permanent place within the Shelby circle. This brings us to the present.

"Have you told him?" Polly asked with a cigarette in her mouth. Her hands toyed with her cup of whisky. Grey eyes watching you with a little twinkle.

You dipped your head down behind the book in your hand, a collection of short stories and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe. "Told who what?" you danced around the question.

Polly rolled her eyes, "Honestly, just kiss and fuck already."

You gasped in disbelief, a chortle of laughter escaping you as you uttered, "Polly! How uncouth of you"

She snorted, "Its very uncouth of you to lead a man by his ba-"

You were grateful for the interruption. Anything to not have to hear Polly nag you about your not-so relationship with her nephew Tommy. You'd been around for a few years now. So you were used to the teasing and blunt vulgar language that often escaped her or any Shelby's mouth. But even so, it still made you anxious whenever any one of them, besides Tommy, would bring up your relationship with him.

You had no problem with admitting you felt something for him. It was hard not to when he was both handsome and intelligent. Not to mention that he was naturally charismatic and was very good at getting attention. If anyone was stringing anyone it was him stringing you. Because you could sit for hours and listen to him talk. You loved his deep baritone voice. The way every word he spoke dripped with purpose and meaning. You found that insanely attractive. Despite that, the issue was, you were scared. Scared of the intensity of your feelings for him. You often felt like your body would crumble under the weight of your emotions.

You squirmed underneath Polly's assessing gaze and attempted to ignore her by turning to the new intruders.

Arthur and John stood, disheveled and bruised. You sat up in alarm, "what happened?" You sat up from your seat and stalked towards them, "I'll go get the-"

"No need sweetheart," Arthur gently interrupted you, "we just need to speak to Polly in private."

You paused a little hurt at being dismissed from what appeared to be an important conversation and very very curious as to what happened for them to show up bloody, bruised, and panicked.

"I think not," You forced yourself to be more assertive, "You need stitches and some ointment. Can't you-"

John stepped forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, "You can check on us after we're done talking with Polly, but right now we really need to talk to her, alright?"

His eyes implored you to drop it and you did. Polly glanced at you for a moment as if deciding whether or not to allow you into their conversation, but she must have thought not to because she turned away and lead the boys up to one of the empty rooms upstairs.

You knew many things about the Shelbys. You knew Arthur hated carrots and loved hot chocolate-his guilty pleasure on cold days. You knew Ada hated pumpkin pie but ate it whenever you made it and you knew Polly was a blunt forward woman who did not care about how others perceived her. But she had a heart of gold for her family and would do anything for them. You knew John loved to live life on the edge but he craved the warmth and affection of his children- so he cut back on how many nights he'd spend out in the city at bars if it meant spending time with his kids. You knew Thomas secretly liked tea but refused to admit it because then it would mean you were right.

You knew big things and little things about them, so what in the world did they not want you to know? You could have sat back down on the couch and finished your chapter. But your brain tickled and you knew something was wrong and maybe just maybe you could help them fix it.

You found yourself sneaking up the stairs, avoiding the creaky parts of the floor, and listening intently for their voices.

"What do you mean, they've got Tommy?" Polly hissed through clenched teeth.

"One minute we were exiting the Garrison and the next we were ambushed, nearly lost me head but we managed to fight em off." Arthur elaborated, "But in the fray, they took Tommy."

"Bastards," John hissed, "We could have easily gotten him back but Tommy told us to hang back."

"So, he's got a plan?" Polly guessed.

"Fuck his plan, we need to get him back and hit 'em where it hurts," John gritted.

Tommy's been taken? you thought. Your mind raced at the news. Why would someone take him? What's going on?

You burst through the bedroom door and wildly glanced around, "What. Why was he taken? where did they go?"

Your heart raced at the idea that he had been takin'. Thoughts of never seeing him again repeated over and over. You'd just managed to find a place to call home and you were already losing a part of it. Polly tried to calm you down but you couldn't possibly be calm.

"This isn't a problem you need to concern yourself with," You weren't sure which one said it but it made you boil, "Fuck you, of course, it is, I'm part of this family as much as you are."

Family was important to you. You'd never had a family before the Shelby's. Despite being friends with Ada when you were younger, you didn't have much time to connect or get to know anyone else before you left. 6 years later you made it back and Ada was the first person to find you at your new small apartment. With a shittily made casserole and an excited smile. "I never forgot you! I promised I wouldn't" she had said. You didn't know then how important she was going to be in discovering yourself and finding a family. Thomas was part of your family now. And you couldn't allow a piece of your family to possibly die.

Polly was the one to spill, because she recognized the crazed look in your eyes. She knew that nothing they said to placate you would work and that if they didn't let you in, you'd go and find out on your own. Arthur and John had both looked away as she told you everything Thomas had explicitly told them to hide from you. For 4 years, they had kept the shadier parts of their business from you. They weren't sure how they managed but you were mostly oblivious to the ongoing of the darker side of their business. It certainly helped that you didn't venture much to the outside world besides working at the betting shop and being stuck in Tommy's office to help with paperwork.

After Polly told you that a business deal had gone south and a potential business partner turned enemy went rogue and took Tommy to intimidate and force his hand, you bolted out of the house. Firmly ignoring Arthur and John's panicked voices and grabby hands from stopping you.

Nothing would stop you, not even the panicked scared little girl screaming inside your head to stop and hide. To turn tail and save your own skin. But you wouldn't. Couldn't possibly give up on the only kin you had. Blood relations be damned. The Shelbys were the best part of your life. And it could be so much more, if only you could get there in time-before its too late.

The thought made you take a mental pause. Trying to push out any thoughts of showing up to a...dead Tommy. For a moment your heart stuttered and stopped. No, it wont come to that. You were moving briskly through Birmingham, eyes wild and hands tightly clutching a hand gun in your coat pocket. The very same gun that saved your life once upon a time.

You'd killed a man before, for survival and you'd kill again if it meant saving someone you cared deeply about.

You found him kneeling on the ground and his arms up in surrounder. It perturbed you to see him look so vulnerable. For as long as you had known him, Thomas Shelby was anything but vulnerable.

The men around him laughed when they saw you, didn't bother lifting their guns to shoo you. Instead they urged you with their mocking words and twisted smiles to walk away before something bad happened to you.

You swallowed the little girl inside you and resolved yourself. They were dead before they could question your ability to use a gun. Little girls don't know how to use guns, but big girls whose been through some shit do.

You were in shock. Not surprising. But even in your shock you knew what to do. You somehow managed to weakly grab Thomes' hand and drag him away from the enemy's warehouse. Dragged him through back alleyways and empty streets towards safer territory.

You didn't realize you had crossed over Peaky territory. Hadn't quite processed the events of this evening. Too busy thinking about how you were seconds away from finding a dead Tommy and an unfulfilled wish.

Your breathing escalated as that thought rang inside your head, each word echoing louder than the last-twisting into different variations of the same concept.

He could've been dead

One more second and he'd be dead

Oh my God, he could've died

He's had experience with panicked men lost in their own minds. Watching you spiral from one thought to the next was not unfamiliar, but watching the way tears gathered in your eyes and the way you gasped for air felt different from the men he'd once helped. You shouldn't have known where he was. He was pissed. You had been put into danger because of him and the line of work he did. But you showed strength he'd never seen before. No, not strength. He'd seen a women ready to do anything to survive, to protect and save. He'd seen a women kill with ease, a hollow look in her eyes.

He knew then that it hadn't been the first time you'd been put into a position that decided the fate of another. You were broken just like him and that realization ached his heart in a new way. You with your bright smile and easy composure was broken just like him. Just like anyone who'd been through war, forced to survive in a world built to kill your hopes and dreams. You who did her best to be positive, to care and love those around her despite being broken. And all he did was assume that you were too naive and innocent to understand the real world. How wrong he was and how right of you to always prove him wrong.

He found a bench to set you down. You complied, too distracted by your panic to notice. He kneeled before you and studied your face, his hands held yours. Thumb pressing circles into the back of your palms. He spoke to you, "We're okay. Your sitting on a bench and I'm here." His deep voice quieted the thoughts but didn't lesson the feeling of unease.

"YOU almost DIED," your head shook, hair falling down around your shoulders and tears pouring out of your eyes, "if I had been a second late, you would have died."

Speaking the words aloud was an alarming realization. Thinking is one thing but saying it aloud and realizing just how true it could have been scared you.

"Hey," he moved closer, soft blue eyes holding your own, his rough but gentle hands cupping your face, "I'm right here. See"

He nodded slightly as if to reaffirm he was really there. As if moving his head would make you realize how true that statement was, "My hands are touching your cheek, do you feel them?"

He asked patiently, quietly. You sniffed and leaned into his touch with closed eyes, "Yes, I feel them"

"How do they feel?" His question guided you away from darker thoughts.

"Warm, a bit rough"

He chuckled, "I'd say sorry but these working hands make it possible for you to have all the books you'd like."

You giggled through the tears. You'd opened your eyes to look at him and found yourself going through another wave of fear and sadness, "I was so scared," you sniffed.

Not knowing was the worst. Which brings you to your earlier frustrations. You found yourself glaring angrily at him. "If I wasn't at the house with Polly, if I hadn't walked up the stairs and listened to their conversation. I wouldn't have been here with you. You could've been dead and I wouldn't know. I wouldn't know anything. Why would you hide this from me?"

The answer was obvious but you still thought that you'd proven to be more than just a nobody who'd wander into their lives. You thought you had been family. They were family for you. Did they not see you as family?

"Am I not, family? Do you not care about me?" You whispered.

His lips quirked in amusement, your shift in moods was a good sign, if a little disadvantages for him, "Ay, your family. But that don't mean I want you put in danger." He conceded. "I don't want you doing that again, eh" the last part was final. His eyes turned hard as his thumb caressed your cheeks, "No more running wildly into danger." He added a bit more softly.

You stared him down with annoyance, "If it weren't for me, you'd still be with those assholes holding guns to your head." You rushed, "Guns Tommy. They were all holding guns to your head."

He stood pulling you up with him, "I was fine, I had 'em where I wanted 'em."

He stuffed his hands into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. You watched bewildered as he wrapped his mouth around the cigarette and lit it. Nonchalantly pulling from it and breathing it out.

This man, your mind hissed. "A plan, that only you know. A plan that isolated everyone you cared about from being aware!" You exclaimed irritated. "If your plan was to have everyone split off doing their own thing, then GREAT FUCKING JOB, THOMAS!"

He stared at you with a raised brow and a smirk. As if seeing you get angry and worried over his wellbeing was somehow amusing for him. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? How panicked Arthur and John were?" You asked but didn't allow him to answer, "They were seconds away from having every fuckin' peaky under their belt go out and search for trouble. As if rounding up the opposing enemy's minions would solve anything? I mean seriously, not one fuckin person really knew what was going on and the only thing I knew was that they were taking you to the last meet up spot!"

Your arms waved into the air, "I was damn lucky Polly knew a bit more than Arthur and John but you have no idea how scared I was! I thought I was gonna find your dead body and I wouldn't-"

Wouldn't have gotten to tell you how I felt, your thoughts finished the sentence for you. You took a deep breathe and turned away from his unwavering gaze, "Point is, you're an ass."

That wasn't your main point but it should do, right?

"You care about me?" After all your ranting and that's the one thing he got? It wasn't even a question. Judging by his tiny pleased smirk. Ass.

You rolled your eyes, "Come now, Mr. Shelby, you're a smart man. You know I do."

He had to have known, you weren't subtle. Sure you never said anything explicitly about your feelings but you were terrible at hiding your affections for others. If you cared about someone you made sure to show it in little and big ways. You learned early, what holding back affections would do to your mental state when the person you cared about died.

He was silent for a moment and you worried he had left you. But then you heard him move. He tugged at your arm and turned you towards him, his hand falling to rest on your waist. He'd tossed the cigarette aside and was now pushing your hair behind your ear, "I'm sorry I made you worry, for scaring you and for forcing you to take action."

You expected him to demand you drop the matter entirely. Expected him to try and change the subject as he often did when you asked questions that lead to darker realizations. You even expected him to gloss over your minor confession. But not this.

You looked up at him, dazed and confused, "I wanted-"

He shook his head, "No, it doesn't matter that you wanted too. What matters is that I forced you to feel as if I wouldn't succeed and... I forced you to do something that breaks pieces of you."

"I don't want that for you. I want you to be safe and happy. Not mixed up in my bullshit work, eh." He was close, too close. He smelled of gunpowder, cigarettes and mint. An odd mix but somehow comforting. You told yourself it's because he was alive. He was here with you and not about to be buried in the ground.

"I can handle myself," you mumbled softly.

His traced over your features. Taking in your furrowed brows and pouted lips, "I see that, I know it to be true, but." He paused, his hand cupped your cheek, holding you so gently as if he was scared you'd break, "I'd rather you protect yourself than protect me."

A nice sentiment but unfounded because at the end of the day you were protecting yourself. "I was." You concluded with a small smile, "I was protecting my heart from heartache." Your hands nestled themselves onto his chest, pressing into him to fully feel him beneath his close. You could distantly feel his heartbeat.

"I...wouldn't be able to breath, to live, nor forgive myself if I didn't do something, anything to keep you alive." You inhaled sharply, "I care too much about you, Thomas" you laughed, embarrassed for admitting it, "Sometimes I hate you for making me feel this way."

Your heart stuttered, not out of fear or anxiety but anticipation. Up close you noticed that his eyes were much brighter and intense. You could practically trace his cheekbones with your fingers. His nose brushed against yours, your eyes fluttered shut and he was just mere centimeters away from touching your lips with his, "Do you?"

His lips whispered against yours. "Do I what? You whispered back.

"Hate me?"

You didn't. You were certain you could never hate him. Instead of answering you pushed forward and pressed your lips against his. Why answer verbally when you can just show him?

You pressed yourself into his body, enjoying the way your body fit into his with ease. Especially the way he pulled you in with a hand at your hip and the other cupping the back of your neck. Your fingers twisted itself into his suit jacket, and pulled him closer as if you could melt into him.

When you pulled away, your heart swelled with happiness. Kissing him was way better than daydreaming.

He hummed, "No more running blindly into danger."

"I wouldn't have to run blindly into danger if you told me what was going on and what you planned."

He tilted his head and then nodded. You made a fair point, "No running into danger then."

He wasn't going to let that go. You sighed, "Then don't be in danger."

"I can't do that."

"Then you'll be yelling at me often." You asserted softly.

He breathed in a soft smile and a chuckle racking his body, "Is this my life now?"

You raised a brow, and fought the giggle that wanted to escape.

"You nagging me about my business ventures and then following me into danger no matter how many times I tell you not too," you leaned into his hand that held your face, "Dragging me back home, yelling about how worried you'd been, saying your angry and scared and you'll cry for a bit. Then you'll go back to scolding me." He sighed, "The headaches I'll get because of you."

You scoffed, "Oh please, those headaches will have nothing on the heart attacks you'll give me"

You pulled away and grabbed his hand, "Let's go, you look a mess and need to eat."

And as he said, you dragged him back home. Where he belonged.

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