Summary : ( Based off of Season One Episode 2 & 3!) You've been in love and best friends with Tommy ever since you were kids, and when he came back from the war in France he has been cold and distant from you. Wanting to be close with him again you put yourself at risk to try and help him with business with Billy Kimber.
Basically, you're like Grace in this story but with a few twists! I also changed up my writing style so there’s going to be no “y/n” in this!
+ WARNINGS: a lot of curses and the g**sy slur because you know Billy Kimber so please have caution when you read! Not to mention there is a lot of dialogue ( sorry ) and part 2 will be the juicy part ;)
ALL OF CONTENT BELONGS TO STEVEN KNIGHT / NETFLIX PEAKY BLINDERS.
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Memories can be so precious.
It’s what makes them so beautiful– images that come and go through your mind, and eventually fade away into a heartwarming blur that stems from your heart. It’s what makes life worth living, cherishing the moment that you are present in before time flies. A story to be told from your heart that burns into your soul– resurfacing the emotions that you thought you buried so long ago.
We are all books, with spines and hard covers to hide stories within us. Memories are waiting to be told.
Yet that’s what makes them also so painful.
Birmingham was a tragic place; nothing but filled with poverty, sex, drugs, crimes; you name it, they have it. Being an old family friend to the Peaky Blinders gang had its pros and cons that’s for sure. It made things a little easier, considering how the whole town feared the gang was; but also difficult because you can easily be a target for another gang due to your affiliation.
It was so long ago when you met him, yet, the memory was fresh; as if it happened yesterday.
***
You sat on the side of the river stream, allowing your little feet to submerge in the cool water creating little ripples that multiply and fade. You were only a child, reeling from the loss of your father to an unknown illness but at least you still had your mother.
You didn’t have any tears left to shed when your father passed away. Your mother cried all of her tears out for you leaving you with an empty abyss that settled in the pit of your heart. It’s not that you didn’t love your father, you did. Just witnessing your mother being so broken from the loss, you knew you had to be strong for her. Parent her; take care of her like how she did with you.
Needless to say, this imprisonment started your own solitude. Part of you didn’t mind it, as for someone so young, you realized being alone makes you more aware of the world around
you. As a child you have always tried to look for the good in the world, but as far as you knew , everything was just dark and colorless.
Were there still beautiful things in this world?
Did they exist outside of Small Heath?
A loud splash then pulled you out of your daze as the fierce icy water cascaded over your small form, dampening your beige cream dress which caused your little face to burn with annoyance.
“Hey!” You called out in an exasperated tone, quickly rising up on your feet from the water to the concrete as your heated stare tried to find the source of who, or what caused the splash.
Little strings of laughter reverberated through the air as your eyes landed upon two little heads that surfaced from the water.
They were boys..great. You thought.
“Ooooo, look! It's a girl!” One spoke obnoxiously.
“No shit, you bloody genius.” The other snickered.
You only narrowed your eyes to them, “Hellooo?” You called out to them mockingly, gaining their attention. “You got me all soaked!”
“What are ya goin’ to do ‘bout it? Cry to your mum?”
That comment made your expression scrunch up into a scowl, for a little girl , you shouldn’t have felt so much anger in that small body. You were more than ready to pick up your boot and chuck it at that meathead who mocked you.
“Alright, that’s enough Freddy.” The other boy said in a bit of an exhorting tone, causing Freddy to stick his tongue out at his friend, who stopped him from picking on you.
You watched as both of them swam towards you onto the dry concrete, causing you to take a quick cautious step back in case they planned on doing anything stupid. Freddy jumped out first; drenched with water. You could see him visibly shiver from the gentle breeze that brushed over you three. He then stuck his hand out to the other boy, who was still in the water as he pulled him up .“Come on, Tommy. We ‘oughta hurry before the coppers come by.” Freddy groaned you couldn’t help but to gaze at this boy.
Tommy.
Tommy’s curled up in a slight smile with Freddy’s assistance managed to propel himself upwards from the river. Slowly you felt the flame of your annoyance simmer back to a small ember. Curiosity gently guided you to Tommy, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him once he looked at you.
His eyes were so blue.
“Sorry about your dress.” He apologized with a nod, his gaze not breaking away from you. Water dripped from his raven colored tresses along with his clothes that stuck against his fair skin. His apology made you feel at ease which caused a timid smile form on your lips. “It’s okay, it’s only water.” You replied shyly, despite the little foul smell from the polluted water it wasn’t super bad.
“Tommy! Come on, mate! Quit bloody flirting with the girl!” Freddy rolled his eyes as he nudged his friend, who waved him off in response. “Tommy. Tommy Shelby.” He introduced himself, his little smile mirrored yours.
Tommy Shelby.
Once you heard his name your eyes widen. A Shelby? From a gang? You heard vaguely about them but you knew well enough to stay away from those kinds of people.
Meeting Thomas Shelby changed your perspective.
After introducing yourself, you couldn’t help but to murmur out a little, “..Nice to meet you.”
Before little Tommy could reply the sound of a whistle pierced through the air alerting you both that the authorities were nearby.
Oh, fuck.
“Tommy, crack on, let’s go!” Freddy exclaimed before taking off, practically flying with the wind by his hurried footsteps. Tommy glanced at his friend running off before he turned back to look at you once more with an amused expression before grabbing your hand with his.
“Well let’s not just stand here, leg it!” Tommy exclaimed before sprinting away after his friend, causing you to follow behind him with a squeak escaping your lips.
You could feel your eyes glimmer as you looked at your intertwined hands as he guided you through the rough alleyways of Small Heath. Even when you three manage to find a place to hide, he did not let go of your hand. Not once until it was clear.
What was once colorless, like a fresh variety of watercolors spreading ever so gracefully on a canvas– Tommy Shelby brought color to your world.
***
Ever since that day by the river, you and Tommy became inseparable. It didn’t take long for his family to accept you with open arms. Arthur and John embraced you as another sister, while Ada was relieved to have another girl around. Finn was just a baby, blissfully unaware of the chaos surrounding him. You became one of Tommy’s closest confidants, never straying far from his side. Even your mother grew well acquainted with the Shelby family; at first, she had been reluctant, but after meeting Tommy and Polly Gray, she gradually warmed up to them.
As a child, you were unaware of the nature of the feelings blooming inside you. Your heart raced when he was near, and your cheeks flushed a deep scarlet whenever he smiled. When he was sad, all you wanted was to take away his pain. These feelings grew stronger as time passed, transforming alongside you into something far more profound. You eventually realized he wasn’t just family to you; you were deeply in love with him.
These emotions terrified you. They were so overwhelming that you felt like you were on the brink of exploding. You had no way of knowing if he reciprocated your feelings; it was hard to tell. Honestly, it didn’t matter—being by his side was all you truly desired. Whether he viewed you as a friend or something more, all you wanted was for him to be happy.
The years with the Shelby family were a rollercoaster of highs and lows. Tommy’s mother committed suicide when he was nineteen and you were seventeen, a tragedy that shattered the family. Soon after, his father abandoned him and his siblings, leaving them in the care of Aunt Polly. The losses kept piling up, as Aunt Polly also lost her own son and daughter. Those times were unbearable, yet the family persevered, and you did your best to support them through their grief.
It felt unfair, living with the constant fear of rejection and heartbreak. Invisible reins held you back from expressing your feelings to Tommy. There were moments when you questioned whether the pain was worth it—watching him with other women, feeling a pang of jealousy. Yet, seeing the smile on his face, witnessing the fleeting happiness he experienced, made you feel that the pain was worth it. Sabotaging his happiness for your own unhappiness felt selfish, but the monster inside your mind fed on envy and would never be sated.
Being alone with your thoughts often conjured daydreams and false images of what it might be like to be with him. It filled the void of longing, but it was still terrifying. Despite living in a shithole called Small Heath, people regarded you as one of the most beautiful women there, especially in such a grim place. Yet, your world didn’t revolve solely around Tommy; you met other men, trying to fill the emptiness that only Tommy Shelby seemed capable of filling. But each attempt ended the same way, dissipating into nothingness.
Even amidst heavy losses, the silent vow of never leaving his side clutched at your heart, binding you to him.
Until the war came…
***
“Tommy!” you called out, pushing your way through the crowd as the new soldiers prepared to board the train for military headquarters in France. “Tommy! Arthur! John!”
You hollered their names once more, your gaze frantic. You could hear the blood pounding in your ears, worried that you had missed them.
“Sweet’eart! Over here!” A familiar voice called, causing you to pivot on your heels. You turned to find Tommy making his way toward you, his brothers following closely behind.
Instant relief washed over you, a sad smile replacing your worry as the brothers approached. “Please come back, you idiots,” you said, loud enough for them to hear over the din of the crowd. Without hesitation, you pulled Arthur and John into a tight embrace, leaving Tommy watching as you three formed a group hug. “Don’t fret, sweet’eart. We’ll be back before ya know it,” Arthur said, giving you a gentle squeeze. After you pulled away, he ruffled your hair, prompting you to pout and swat his hand away. “Okay, okay… just look out for each other,” you added, glancing at them all.
“Alright, Mum, we get it,” John replied with a playful smile, and you narrowed your eyes at him in mock annoyance.
Even though they were heading off to war, the lighthearted exchange eased the ache in your heart. You knew you wouldn’t see them for a long time, and there was a possibility you might never see them again. But you refused to dwell on that thought; you had to stay strong for them. They would come back. They had to—especially with each other by their sides.
“I love you both,” you said, embracing Arthur and John one last time before they melted into the crowd to join the line for the train, leaving you alone with Tommy. He looked at you with a slightly amused expression, but that only deepened the ache in your heart. A deep sigh escaped his lips. “I guess this is where we part ways for now, eh?” he said, his voice low and raspy, his ocean-blue eyes locking onto yours. You nodded solemnly, your frown unwavering.
“Don’t look so amused, Tommy,” you lightly scolded.
“Believe me, love—I’m not,” he countered, the nickname making your heart flutter despite the melancholy. You weren’t sure how you would handle being separated from him after being together for so long. “Don’t cry, c’mere…” he murmured, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest, your body pressed against him.
You didn’t realize you were crying until one tear turned into two, then more, your vision becoming a blur. Feeling the warmth of his embrace and his heartbeat against your head only sent fresh waves of tears streaming down your cheeks. So much for trying to be strong. You were scared for him and his brothers. His large hand caressed your hair while his other arm wrapped around your back, keeping you close.
“Shhh, this isn’t forever. No need to choke on the tears now,” he lightly teased, squeezing you gently, his chin resting on top of your head in an attempt to comfort you. You sniffled out a weak laugh. “I can’t help it, Tommy. I’m just going to miss you. It’s going to be hard without you around…”
When you first heard that he and his brothers had volunteered for the war, you were furious. But now, in his arms, you couldn’t find the anger within you—especially not when feeling this close to him. You had all been meant to finish school together, but this was what they wanted.
What he wanted.
You felt small compared to him; you both were no longer children. Tommy was a man now, a man you deeply admired. As you stood in the warmth of his embrace, a part of you knew this might be the last time you saw the man you had fallen for.
You remained wrapped in each other’s arms, enveloped in silence despite the surrounding commotion, where others said farewell to their loved ones.
“I will come back for you,” Tommy murmured into your hair. The air caught in your throat as you froze in his arms, familiar sparks coursing through your body. In that moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world.
“I promise…”
***
Your forlorn gaze drifted among the crew of men, slender fingers tracing the rough cloth, leaving a faint chalk stain on your sleeve. Memories surged in your mind like wildflowers in a garden, ensnaring you like a Venus flytrap.
Five years later, Tommy returned, just as he promised. But he was not the man you once knew. He had become an empty shell, the echoes of war resonating within him. Visions of dirt, anguished screams, and blood haunted him, replaying in an unending loop. It felt as if he had turned into a ghost—a dead man walking.
Though he kept many secrets, you couldn’t hold that against him. The men who returned from the war in France were forever changed. It tore at your heart to see that after all those years of waiting, Tommy came back distant and stoic—not just with you, but even with his own family. You knew things would be different; he had returned as a stranger, beginning to push you away. At first, you wondered if he no longer cared for you, but you couldn’t accept that after all you had shared. A bitter suspicion crept in: perhaps he now saw you as just another sister. Yet your feelings for him remained unchanged, steadfast in the face of his retreat. The rest of the Shelby clan treated you the same, but it was Tommy’s withdrawal that cut the deepest.
And that stung you to your core.
Now, you stood in the Shelby Home and Betting Shop, doing your part to keep things tidy and stepping in as a nurse whenever a Peaky Blinder found trouble. This had become your routine since the boys left for France, with Polly and Ada helping to keep the business afloat. But since their return, everything felt different. You cherished your role in the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders, yet you longed to be more useful… to him.
Forcing yourself out of your daze, you maintained a light expression, even as your heart ached. Once your task was complete, you decided a drink was in order. With a destination in mind, you quickly grabbed your coat and headed to the Garrison Pub. The walk through Watery Lane to Montague Street felt familiar, and soon you arrived.
As you pushed open the double doors, the first thing that struck you was the singing. Your eyes fell on people dancing, glasses and pints in hand. Some were slow dancing, creating a lovely scene that eased the ache in your heart. A ghost of a smile tugged at your lips. The pub, once filled with tense silence or hushed murmurs, now thrummed with joy. You wondered what had sparked Tommy’s sudden change in spirit.
“Oh, well, look who it is… How you doin’, angel?” Harry called out as you approached the bar. You nodded, still wearing that faint smile. “Good evening, Harry,” you replied, brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear with a gentle sigh.
“What can I get ya?” he asked, raising his voice over the off-key singing.
You rested your forearms against the counter. “Cider, please,” you ordered softly, glancing around as Harry turned to prepare your drink. As you scanned the room, your gaze locked onto those familiar icy blue eyes. It was Tommy, sitting in a meeting room with his brothers, a cigarette resting between his fingers.
He broke your gaze first, responding to his brothers’ calls to play cards. You couldn’t hear their conversation over the crowd’s noise, but curiosity tugged at you. You watched as he rolled his beautiful blue eyes playfully, lifting his hand to take a drag from his cigarette, exhaling swirling silver smoke. A faint smile danced on his lips, likely sparked by something Arthur or John had said. Laughter erupted from the room, followed by Arthur’s call: “We see ya, love! Come over here!”
You turned to find Arthur catching you staring at Tommy, heat rushing to your cheeks. A gentle scoff escaped your lips as you broke your gaze from the Shelby brothers, suddenly aware of your cider now sitting before you. Picking up the glass, you took a sip; the sweet apple flavor danced on your tongue before the warmth of the alcohol bloomed in your chest. It was just what you needed.
With renewed determination, you approached Tommy, Arthur, and John, who looked pleased to see you (mostly Arthur and John). As you made your way through the crowd into the room where the boys sat, you lightly squeezed the glass in your hand, hoping the cider would ease your nerves, even as embarrassment lingered at being caught staring at Tommy.
“Hi, boys,” you greeted with a half-smile, leaning against the wall near the doorway and taking another sip. “Singing’s allowed now?” you asked with a chuckle, raising your eyebrows and prompting light snickers from John and Arthur. Tommy merely cracked a small smile before a barmaid entered, diverting his attention.
Grace Burgess, the new barmaid at the Garrison, caught you off guard. You had nothing against her; she had always been kind. Yet a nagging suspicion stirred within you. She seemed too innocent, and you couldn’t help but wonder why she chose to work here of all places. Small Heath was rough, and surely there were better jobs available. But for women like her, the choices often boiled down to becoming a whore or marrying a wealthy man. You couldn’t exactly judge her.
You watched as she entered the room, capturing Tommy’s attention. A familiar pang of resentment stirred within you, jealousy rearing its head. You took another sip of your drink, trying to bury it. “Did you want whisky as well?” she asked softly, her accent prominent.
“No, just beer,” Tommy replied in his usual stoic manner, taking a drag from his cigarette as she slid a pint his way.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You might be overthinking it, but it felt strange that Tommy wouldn’t drink his usual Irish whisky. “Why no whisky, Tommy? Expecting trouble?” you teased lightly.
He spared you a vacant glance before returning to his cards with his brothers, which only fueled your annoyance. Clearly, he wasn’t amused, but that was nothing new. Whatever, you thought, looking away and shaking your head slightly in frustration. The man singing in the Garrison raised his volume, sounding increasingly off-key, prompting you to take another large swig of your cider, hoping to drown out the moment.
It wasn’t just you who noticed the dreadful singing. John chuckled as he turned to Tommy, fiddling with the toothpick between his teeth. “Jesus Christ, Tommy, seriously, what made you let them sing?” he asked, shifting the subject. You remained quiet, pondering the same question. At this point, you felt like a bystander. It had always been this way during their conversations, but you didn’t mind—being around them brought you a sense of contentment.
“They sound like they’re strangling cats out there,” John added with a smile, making you laugh softly. “He’s not wrong about that,” you chimed in, which elicited a chuckle from Arthur and a playful eye-roll from Tommy. Still, he remained silent.
“All right. Twenty’s the play, come on,” Arthur interjected, holding his cards close to his face. “But seriously, Tommy, what made you change your mind about the singing?” he teased, glad to see the three of you united in your curiosity about Tommy’s decision.
As soon as Arthur asked the question, Grace left the room, closing the doors behind her. Tommy turned to watch her go, and the grin on your lips faltered.
Oh no, you thought, your heart sinking. So it was Grace who had influenced him to allow singing in the pub. Your world didn’t revolve around Tommy (though that was a lie), and you had your own life, but it still stung. Was Tommy really looking for a woman now? It was only a matter of time, but you hadn’t expected it to be so soon. Grace was undeniably beautiful: her fair complexion, soft blonde hair cascading just above her shoulders, and her petite form. It made sense why Tommy would be drawn to her, despite her suspicious arrival. In your limited interactions, she had been quite lovely.
You weren’t going to compare yourself to her. You knew you weren’t bad-looking, and you weren’t the type to belittle other women out of jealousy. Yet, the thought of her making Tommy happy twisted something inside you. When did you become so humble? Or were you just masking your insecurities with humility? A wave of frustration washed over you. You didn’t want to feel jealous, but it was a familiar ache, a relentless war with your emotions for Tommy that had raged since childhood.
“It’s about time, Tommy,” John said, his eyes following Grace as she exited the secluded room in the pub. “Time for what?” Tommy shot back, his tone blunt, an attempt to feign indifference. But it was obvious what John was suggesting. “Time for you to find yourself a woman,” John finished, and the words hit you like a punch to the gut. You struggled to suppress a dry chuckle, your stomach churning at the thought. No way were you going to engage with this conversation.
“Seriously?” you asked, striving to keep your voice steady while a false smile hovered on your lips. “Tommy doesn’t have time for that; his brooding scares all the ladies away.” You tried to tease, hoping to deflect your own insecurities. But inside, the tension grew, the unspoken feelings swirling like a storm, leaving you to grapple with the truth that lay just beneath the surface.
John smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t even deny it. My brother deserves happiness. Unless you want to be that woman.” His teasing comment nearly drained the color from your face, and you coughed into your drink. He did not just say that. You fought the urge to punch him in his smug face, and he knew it. “Just play the bloody hand,” Tommy interjected apathetically, cutting the awkward tension before it could settle.
Looking away from his brother– he casually placed his cigarette back between his lips. “You stay the way you are, Tommy. Remember what dad used to say. Fast women and slow horses..” Arthur started before John joined in to stay in unison with him. “Will ruin your life.” They said together as John pointed at Tommy who only smiled at his brothers. It honestly warmed your heart to see him smile, you knew only his family could make him do so. “No offense, sweet’eart.” Arthur nodded his head to you while you only rolled your eyes at him sipping your cider. “Shut up, Arthur.” You scoffed with a little faint smirk, you knew his comment wasn’t implied to you but you still thought the phrase was stupid.
The playful banter soon came to an end as a bright light flashed into the pub immediately causing everyone’s smiles in the room to vanish from their lips. “Coppers?” John asked sternly sitting up in his seat and Tommy only shook his head, his expression now cold. “No.” He answered. Tension filled the room as you moved toward the pub door, eager to step outside. Suddenly, Tommy stood up, his expression shifting from relaxed to serious. He gently grasped your forearm, pulling you back to his side with a firm yet protective grip. You turned to him, frowning in confusion, and he met your gaze, lightly shaking his head as if to say it wasn’t safe. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made it impossible to ignore him. The weight of his stern gaze held you in place, a silent command that prevented you from stepping outside into the uncertainty beyond the door.
“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice laced with worry.
You noticed Arthur and John sliding out of their chairs, sensing that something was about to unfold. A wave of timidity washed over you as your chest tightened with anticipation, anchoring you in the meeting room of the pub. Suddenly, heavy footsteps echoed, followed by a loud slam at the entrance, reverberating throughout the space.
“Holy Shit. It’s Billy Kimber.” You heard Harry say out loud who stood behind the bar counter with disbelief and a hint of fear.
Your gaze hardened as you shot Tommy a sidelong look, realization sinking in. You were right—Tommy was indeed expecting trouble.
What the fuck did you do, Tommy?
Your eyes screamed the question, filled with a mix of frustration and concern. Tommy broke eye contact, his grip on your forearm tightening just enough to convey both reassurance and a hint of apology. It was a familiar gesture, one that spoke volumes about his intentions even when words failed him. This was his mess, and you could feel the weight of it pressing down on both of you.
Turning to John and Arthur, you offered them the same exasperated expression, hoping for some clarity. Arthur shrugged, his gaze solemn and unfaltering, while John looked tense, his jaw clenched. He bit deeper into the wooden toothpick between his lips, a clear sign that he was ready for whatever was about to unfold.
You knew they were more than capable of handling a fight, but a pang of anxiety tightened in your chest at the thought of violence. You didn’t want this to escalate. With a heavy sigh, you turned back to the closed doors in front of you, a subtle frown resting on your lips.
In a moment of instinct, you slipped your forearm out of Tommy’s grip, the release feeling oddly bittersweet. Yet, as your hands brushed together, you hesitated before lacing your fingers with his. The warmth of his hand brought a sense of calm amidst the chaos, grounding you in the moment. You could feel the tension in him, a mix of determination and protectiveness that only deepened your resolve.
To your surprise he didn’t pull away from you, he only gave your hand a comforting squeeze.
You remained silent, releasing a deep sigh that barely eased the heavy weight of anxiety pressing down on your chest. It felt like a futile effort, especially as a loud voice suddenly pierced the tense silence, sending a chill through you.
Through the glass, you could only make out the dark silhouette of Billy Kimber, a figure that loomed ominously, casting a shadow over your thoughts. Your heart raced as you recalled his reputation—a man known for his ruthlessness, someone who thrived on
intimidation and fear. The reality of his presence sent a wave of dread coursing through you, and you felt an instinctive urge to retreat further into the room.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that the stakes had just risen, and with it, the sense of impending danger tightened around you like a noose. The weight of the moment settled heavily in the air, thickening the atmosphere and heightening your awareness. You were acutely aware that any misstep could lead to chaos, and the thought gripped you with an unsettling mixture of fear and determination.
“Is there any man here named Shelby?”
Silence.
Clearly Billy Kimber didn’t like that as a loud gunshot rang through the air making you flinch harshly and squeeze Tommy’s hand. He remained composed, his grip steady, and brushed his thumb lightly against the back of your hand—a wordless gesture meant to reassure you amidst the chaos.
Though his expression was stoic, you could sense the underlying strength he was projecting. It was as if he was silently promising that he would handle whatever came next, and that you were safe with him. His calm demeanor grounded you, even as the tension in the room mounted.
You met his gaze, searching for reassurance, and found a steady resolve in his eyes. He was focused, ready to face the threat head-on, but there was also a flicker of vulnerability that reminded you he felt the weight of the moment too.
In that instant, despite the fear tightening your chest, you felt a deep sense of solace within him. Tommy might not show his emotions openly, but the subtle warmth of his touch and the unwavering strength he exuded told you everything you needed to know. You had faith in him.
“I said, Is there any men named Shelby?” Billy demanded again, impatience lacing his voice like a threat.
Tommy released your hand, and you felt a fleeting sense of loss at the absence of his comforting touch. He glanced at Arthur, who gently grasped your arms and positioned you behind him, his tall frame creating a protective barrier. You opened your mouth to protest, but the words caught in your throat as a wave of anxiety washed over you.
Without hesitation, Tommy stepped forward, opening the door with a calm authority that felt almost palpable. He moved with a quiet intensity, exuding an air of confidence that suggested he was ready for whatever confrontation lay ahead. John and Arthur followed closely, and you reluctantly trailed behind them, your heart pounding as you braced yourself for the danger waiting just outside.
As the four of you emerged into the dim light, the atmosphere thickened with tension. Billy stood there, his imposing figure radiating menace, and you could feel the weight of his gaze sweeping over you. The air felt electric, charged with unspoken threats and the potential for violence.
Tommy’s expression remained stoic, his demeanor unflinching. He projected a fierce protectiveness, and you could sense his resolve as he faced Billy. There was no hint of fear in him, only a steady determination that steadied your own nerves. You understood in that moment that he was prepared for anything.
Drawing a shaky breath, you realized that, despite the looming danger, you weren’t alone. With Tommy’s composed strength beside you, you felt a flicker of courage igniting within.
Staying behind Arthur you made sure you kept your gaze low avoiding Billy Kimber’s despite his eyes burning into you making you feel exposed from his gaze.
“Harry, get these men a drink.” Tommy ordered the bartender before completely stepping into the room. “Everyone else go home.” And with a wave of his hand everyone scattered the Garrison like rat’s scramming outside of the pub clearing the room in seconds.
A deep sigh escaped your lips as you stood off to the side, your heart racing with a mix of concern and frustration. Tommy turned to you, his stern look piercing through the tension in the room, a gaze that could make anyone quake in their shoes. “You go home,” he said, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. He briefly pointed his finger at you, a gesture that felt both protective and dismissive, before pulling up a chair to join the other men. Harry had already set a plate of glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the table, then swiftly left, sensing the escalating tension.
“But…” you began, stepping forward, your voice trembling slightly. You felt a deep urge to stand by him, to confront whatever was about to happen. But as you met his unwavering gaze, a pang of helplessness washed over you. “I said go home,” Tommy repeated, his tone firm, a wall of resolve that made your heart sink.
Your chest tightened painfully as you involuntarily glanced at Billy Kimber, his gaze undressing you in a way that felt like a physical assault. The violation of his stare made bile rise in your throat, and a wave of revulsion washed over you. In a rush, you turned away from the Shelby boys, the desire to escape overwhelming. You hurried toward the back door of the pub, each step a desperate bid to leave that oppressive atmosphere behind. As you closed the door, the cool night air wrapped around you, a gentle balm against your flushed cheeks, offering a momentary reprieve from the discomfort inside.
But as you stood outside, the weight of the moment clung to you, suffocating the fleeting sense of relief. The darkness of the night loomed, and a thought crept into your mind, shattering the calm and pulling you back into the turmoil you desperately sought to escape.
What did Tommy want to do with the Birmingham boys, anyways?
Being discreet, your heels made a swift pivot as you turned to face the closed door. You gently tugged it open just enough to leave it ajar, then stood outside, straining to listen. The gap wasn’t wide enough for a clear view inside, but you were close enough to catch the murmurs of the exchange. Were you being nosy? Yes, definitely. Was it any of your business? No, it wasn’t. Did you care? A little, but not really.
You knew you were treading on dangerous ground, yet when had you ever heeded Tommy’s orders? You’d known him since childhood—what was he trying to hide from you? And why should you let him boss you around like everyone else? That wasn’t going to happen. With a mix of defiance and curiosity, you leaned in closer, eager to uncover what secrets lay behind that door.
“I’ve never approved of women in pubs but when they look like that..” Billy’s voice dripped with vulgarity, and you knew he was talking about you. A wave of disgust washed over you, sending icy shivers up your spine as you pressed yourself further into the shadows.
Clearly, Tommy wasn’t going to let Billy indulge in his lewd remarks. He cut straight to business, his tone cold and unyielding. “You said you wanted men called Shelby. You’ve got three of them.” he replied, each word laden with a tension that crackled in the air.
You strained to absorb every detail of the exchange, your heart racing. The swift strike of a match igniting sent a jolt through you, followed by the sharp clink of glasses being filled with whiskey. Each sound amplified your sense of unease, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken threats as you braced yourself for what might come next.
You weren’t going to lie; eavesdropping felt deeply unsettling, especially with gangsters who assumed you had left and believed they were truly alone. Their confident bravado made the atmosphere even more charged, and you could almost feel the danger simmering just beneath the surface. You didn’t want to become a living example of the phrase “Curiosity killed the cat,” yet the magnetic pull of the conversation was hard to resist.
You knew you could turn around and walk away, that you had every reason to escape the tense scene unfolding inside, but your feet felt rooted to the ground. Each heartbeat echoed in your ears, a reminder of the risk you were taking.
“Right, I never heard of ya. And then I did hear of ya, some little didicoy razor gang. I thought to myself, so what? But then you fucked me over. So now you have my undivided attention.” Billy started off before a brief tense silence hovered over them. Honestly the tension was so thick, it made you feel like you were suffocating, the more you listened. This anticipation was silently killing you.
“By the way, which one am I talking to? Who’s the boss?” Billy asked harshly.
“Well, I’m the oldest.” Arthur answered gruffly, sounding completely unphased by Billy.
The leader of the Birmingham boys wasn’t amused by that answer, “Hah! Clearly. Huh.” Billy quipped back sarcasm clearly dripping in his tone. “Are you laughing at my brother?” John asked menacingly which made your stomach twist on the inside, now anxiety clawing at your chest. Goddamnit, John. You mentally cried as you couldn’t suppress the cringe that flashed on your features. You knew John was only ready to protect his brother and you loved him for it but sometimes it worried you that it would get him killed.
A dry irritated chuckle left Billy’s lips, “Right, He’s the oldest. You’re the thickest. I’m told the boss is called Tommy and I’m guessing that’s you, ‘cause you’re looking at me up and down, like I’m a fucking tart.” Billy snapped as you can assume that he was talking to Tommy which made your heart lurch in your chest.
“I want to know what you want.” Tommy answered cooly, even when you’re listening you can imagine the apathetic expression embracing his features and the gentle shrug of his shoulders, waiting for Billy to get to the point. You always admired how level headed Tommy was in situations like these, it was like fear never existed in his mind.
“There were suspicious betting patterns at Kempton Park. A horse called Monaghan Boy…He won by a length twice and then finished last. With three thousand pounds bet on him.” Another male voice intervened explaining what was the problem until Tommy cut him off, “Which one am I talking to? Which one of you is the boss?” He asked almost in an unamused mocking manner.
“I’m Mr.Kimber’s adviser and accountant.” The male voice introduced himself, “And I’m the fucking boss, okay? Right. End of parlay. You fixed the race without my permission!” You heard Billy shout along with the chair scraping against the wooden floor indicating he stood up from his seat. It sounded like he was about to throw a tantrum. How was this guy the boss again? You asked yourself. Clearly has no class and certified man child. “You fucking gypsy scum! What, live off the war pensions and these poor old Garrison Lane widows? That’s your level. I am Billy Kimber! I run the races. And you fixed one of them. So I’m gonna have you shot against the post.” He loudly cursed and threatened the Shelby’s, making your blood boil. He was an absolute abomination.
You weren’t inherently aggressive, but the harsh reality of growing up in the gritty streets of Small Heath among gangsters had forged a simmering anger within you. As you stood there, your hands clenched into tight fists at the thought of confrontation, the sting of your fingernails digging into your palms grounded you. It was a reminder of how close you were to crossing a line you couldn’t uncross—how easy it would be to unleash that anger and lose yourself in the chaos. You felt the weight of your breath, heavy with restraint, knowing that acting on your impulses could blow your cover and shatter whatever fragile peace you had left.
Before you could think anything else you heard Tommy call out his name, “Mr.Kimber.” It surprised you by how calm he sounded after that man child who calls himself “the boss” insulted them. You heard another chair scoot back against the floor, “Look at it. That has my name on it. It’s from the Lee family.” Tommy said, you guessed he probably tossed an object something at Billy to get his point across. “You are also at war with the Lees, Mr.Kimber, am I right? The Lees are attacking your bookies and taking your money. Your men can’t control them. You need help.” Tommy added.
A gentle frown tugged at your lips as confusion mingled with intrigue, your eyebrows knitting together. You stood in the dim alley behind the pub, ears straining to catch any sound through the narrow crack of the door. Glancing around quickly, you scanned the shadows, acutely aware of the moonlight casting an eerie glow, your only source of illumination. It felt vulnerable out here, the stillness amplifying the danger; anyone could easily slip up on you in this darkness.
To your surprise, you were actually alone. Perhaps the news of Billy Kimber’s presence in Small Heath had sent everyone else scurrying away from the Garrison, creating a rare sense of safety in the shadows of the alley. With a quick glance at your surroundings to ensure you were still undisturbed, you focused your attention back on the conversation inside, the intrigue pulling you deeper into the moment. “Perhaps we should listen to what Mr.Shelby has to say. Before we make our decisions.” You heard Billy’s advisor take an interest in what else Tommy had in mind.
“Right. The Lees are doing a lot of talking at the fairs. They have a lot of kin. They’re saying the racetracks are easy meat. Because the police are busy with strikes. Now, we have connections. We know how they operate. You have muscle. Together we can beat them. Divided, maybe not.” Tommy finished elaborating. Even though this was awful timing to have these thoughts in this moment and you were still slowly grasping the conversation. Tommy’s brilliance in this situation still made you feel so infatuated. It was one of the things you loved about him.
“Mr. Kimber, perhaps we should take some time for reflection. Possibly make arrangements for a second meeting.” Whatever Tommy was planning it was sure working out in his favor considering how easily he got Billy Kimber’s advisor on board with his plan.
“I admire you, Mr. Kimber.” Tommy complimented which should’ve made you feel astonished but it didn’t. You recognized Tommy’s tactics, he was feeding Billy Kimber’s ego to make him believe that he was the one in the advantage. “You started with nothing
and built a legitimate business. It would be an honor to work with you, Mr.Kimber.” Tommy stated his voice vaguely laced with the impression that he actually held respect for Billy.
But you knew better.
It fell silent for a moment, so quiet you could hear your heart beating in your ears. The suspense was unbearable; you couldn’t just sit and listen to their conversation. You needed to see what was happening in that deafening stillness. Unable to resist, you gently pulled the door toward you, widening the gap just enough to peek inside.
You saw the gangsters standing in the room: Billy by the front doors of the pub, flanked by his two bodyguards, who had their small pistols trained on Tommy, who was now on his feet. John and Arthur remained seated, watching intently as their brother faced off against the boss of the horse races. “Nobody works “with” me. People work “for” me.” Billy sneered before digging into his pocket, taking out a coin tossing it to the ground with his thumb, the coin landing in front of Tommy’s feet with a loud clatter noise. “Pick it up, pikey.” Billy arrogantly commanded, staring at Tommy with a condescending expression.
Fuck this guy. Seriously fuck this guy, fuck Billy limp dick Kimber. Your mind was a whirlwind of violent thoughts and profanities you never knew you were capable of, each one a reminder of the anger simmering beneath the surface. It took you back to when you were a little girl, ready to hurl a shoe at Freddy Thorne for making your dress smell like dirty water. In that moment, you felt fierce and powerless all at once, and maybe, despite the years that had passed, some part of you hadn’t changed at all.
There was that heavy silence again– which made it even more suffocating for you to watch and listen. Despite the immense apprehension you felt from the room, you watched the scene between two powerful men unfold. You couldn’t see Tommy’s face as you could only see his back (along with Arthur and John’s) but you can tell by his rigid body language that this was testing his pride.
After a few more moments of heavy tension and piercing stares, Tommy took a step forward bending down to pick up the coin, which made John shoot up from his chair to reach to Tommy’s side defensively until Tommy quickly raised his hand pointing at John in a warning gesture. “Sit. Sit down.” Tommy demanded in a low tone making John reluctantly retreat back to his chair obeying his brother.
Once Tommy picked up the coin, Billy glanced up at the ceiling which had a little bullet hole, no thanks to him. “It’s for your ceiling.” he said bluntly before turning away walking out of the pub. “Thank you, Mr.Kimber.” Tommy said to him as he held the coin in his hand twirling it between his fingers before turning to face Billy’s accountant and advisor who walked over to Tommy with his little briefcase and hat in hand. “We will be at Cheltenham.” He informed Tommy the location where the next meeting will be held.
With another drag of his cigarette, Tommy parted his plump lips to speak, “As will I.” He concluded with a little tilt of his head, lightly exhaling smoke. The accountant and Billy’s men left the room leaving just Tommy and his brother’s alone in the pub. A huge quiet breath of relief escaped from your lips, that you didn’t even realize you were holding in. That was excruciating to watch– taking mental note not to be as nosy anymore considering how you were scared that you were going to witness a shoot out in the pub (which would be nothing new). Yet, it was only another rare successful meeting without any bloodshed.
“So you picked a fight with the Lee’s on purpose. Tommy, we can’t mess with Billy fucking Kimber.” Arthur’s usual boisterous voice exclaimed as he stared at Tommy incredulously while leaning into his seat, his hand waving in the air slightly.
“Get yourself a decent haircut, man. We’re going to the races.” Tommy says with a smirk dismissing his older brother, mentally cheering for himself before chugging down a glass of his irish whiskey in victory.
As you struggled to piece together the chaotic scene you had just witnessed, your thoughts felt like a jumbled puzzle, each fragment tugging at your heart. Tommy had provoked the Lee family and Billy Kimber deliberately, fully aware of the tension that simmered between them. Now, he was threading himself between two fierce enemies—what was he really trying to achieve? A sense of unease settled in your gut, hinting at a deeper, darker motive.
Then another thought pierced through your turmoil: you wanted to be useful to Tommy, and this might be your chance. The idea both excited and terrified you. Billy had taken more than a liking to you—his unwanted attention made your skin crawl—but perhaps you could use that to your advantage. The prospect of stepping into this dangerous game ignited a fierce determination within you. You yearned to prove to Tommy that you were still capable of supporting him, that you hadn’t lost your edge despite everything you had endured.
As the weight of the situation settled over you, you realized that instead of getting a haircut, it looked like you were going to need a new dress—one that would catch Billy’s eye and give you the leverage you needed. The thought filled you with a mix of dread and resolve; you were about to step into a world where your choices could either empower you or trap you further. It was a risk, but for Tommy, you were willing to take it.
Off to the races..
***
Hi guys! I know it has been forever, which stinks but I legit think I had good timing this time since the new Peaky Blinders movie is coming out next year! I am so excited, I had this in drafts in forever so I was finally able to edit it and with the help of @virginburial ! She is an amazing writer so please check out her stuff. I also already have part 2 made I just need to edit that and I will post it. It just has been crazy over the few months but anyways! Thank you guys for reading! ♡
hahahaha wait, tony stark actually doesn’t die until 2023 and it’s only 2019 hahahaha guys it okay, we’re finE. tony is technically still alive and hasn’t died yet — EVERYTHING IS FINE hahahAaaHAHa :’))))
nothing will ever be as beautiful to me as an entire theater full of teenagers and grown ass adults shrieking their asses off when andrew garfield appeared on the screen during no way home and then the same theater full of teenagers and grown ass adults shrieking their asses off AGAIN once tobey maguire appeared as if that wasn’t the logical conclusion to andrew’s appearance
I just love seeing people I follow go through hyperfixations. Like, “you go, you little neurodivergent maniac”, as I scroll past 15 reblogged posts in a row of the same scene but in different gif sets with tiny different nuances.
↳It’s so hysterical. [That moment] was improvised when I saw the crowd dancing, going loco. I felt the beat and was like, Zemo has been sitting in a dodgy German prison cell for years. So, he needs to let off some steam and show his moves. Let’s go for it! I enjoyed so much the reaction of Anthony and Sebastian looking at me…There’s more to it, but they cut this little moment…My friends who know me well know I’m an embarrassing, passionate dancer on the floor but it would be different moves. It would be the Spanish side of me kicking in and doing some matador, flamenco moves, going down on my knees. Highly embarrassing for my friends.
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