#peaky blinder fanfic
Text
Drugged (Thomas Shelby Blurb)
Warning: Non-Consensual Smut, CNC
"Ssh it's okay sweetheart," Tommy whispered into your ear as he unbuttoned your blouse while you were laying on his large king sized bed.
He yanked the blouse aside and pushed down your bra. "Wait, no. I don't want to do this," you managed to say in a trembling voice as you felt drowsy from the drink he had given you twenty minutes ago.
"I know you are scared, but it's going to be fine, I promise," he paused for a second and caressed your cheek, then dipped his head to kiss you softly on your lips.
His tongue explored your mouth bytes and thrusts, tasting the champagne and the sweet taste of your lips.
"No please don't. I'm a virgin," you tried to protest again, but the alcohol-laced drink was taking its toll, making you dizzy and weak.
"Oh sweetheart. That's okay. It will only hurt for a second or two," he whispered soothingly as he lifted up your skirt to reveal your cotton panties.
"But I don't want to do this," you managed to say, fighting to keep your eyes open.
Tommy let out a deep sigh and kissed your neck softly, then whispered in your ear, "And I am sorry it had to be this way my sweet girl, but you rejected me for long enough," he told you as he gently slid your underwear to one side and ran a finger over your slit.
You gasped and tried to wriggle away from his touch, but he was too strong for you, arms and legs pinned down, unable to even squirm away his face impassive and relaxed as he traced a finger along your tight dry hole.
He then parted your pussy lips with two of his fingers and groaned. "Oh god your opening is so small," Tommy said as he roughly pushed a finger inside you, causing you to yelp in pain.
"I am sorry Love," he whispered as he pushed his finger in and out of your sore vagina, trying to stretch and loosen you.
You squirmed and tried to fight back but you were no match for his strength.
Within moments he was pushing two fingers inside you, causing you to cry out loud.
"Oh god it hurts," you whimpered as tears rolled down your cheeks.
But Tommy didn't stop, he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, stretching you and loosening you.
"That's it Love, you're doing well, eh," he said with a hint of pride in his voice. "I know it hurts but you have to be brave for me just a little longer, alright?"
You nodded through your tears, and he rewarded you with a soft kiss on your forehead. "Good girl."
Tommy pulled his fingers out of you and reached over to his nightstand to retrieve some lubricant.
You couldn't help but gaze at his cock as he prepared himself, lubing up his shaft. It was long and thick, and you couldn't imagine how it was going to fit inside you.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle," Tommy reassured you as he positioned himself between your legs.
He spread your pussy lips again with his fingers and guided the tip of his cock to your entrance.
You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the pain, praying that it would be over soon.
"Here we go Love, just breathe," Tommy said as he began to apply pressure.
You felt your body resisting, trying to keep him out, but it was no use.
Slowly, he pushed himself inside you, and you screamed out in pain.
"I'm sorry, Love, I am sorry it had to be this way," Tommy said once more, his voice strained as he tore through your hymen.
With a tremendous effort, he forced himself all the way inside you, stopping only once he bottom out. His cock was fully sheathed in your tight vagina, his balls resting against your ass.
"Oh god!" you cried out in pain, your whole body tensing up as you felt a stinging sensation that you never thought possible.
Tommy's body tightened in response to your cries. He looked down at your tear-stricken face, his expression flickered between pain, worry, and frustration.
"I'm sorry, Love," he whispered, kissing you on the forehead before Withdrawing himself slowly. "Just a bit longer, eh?"
Tommy murmured, biting his lower lip as he pushed back in and felt your tight vaginal muscles squeeze around his cock. "You feel so fucking good around me, do you know that?"
In response, you cried out in pain as Tommy began to thrust into you again, the harsh grunts and groans of pleasure falling from his lips growing louder with each brutal stroke. Your head knocked back into the pillow, tears streaming down your cheeks, as your body attempted to adjust to the trauma being inflicted upon it.
"Such a good girl, taking my cock so well," Tommy grunted as he continued to thrust in and out of your sore pussy. His lips found yours once more in a brutal kiss, muffling your whimpers.
" Shhh, I'm sorry, Love. I'm sorry," Tommy kept whispering as he continued to thrust, your desperate moans, cries, and sobs lost between kisses.
His cock was relentless and would not give up as it pistoned in and out of you. Your legs were trembling, the muscles spasming and trying their best to shut him out.
Meanwhile, Thomas Shelby's hand was tangled in your long, brown hair, using it as leverage as he powered into your tender, broken body.
He could feel the tense resistance of your virginity as it gave way to his forceful intrusion, and the pain that followed was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of conquering something so precious.
Thomas grunted and swore as he continued to thrust into you, feeling the tight grip of your body around his cock increasing with every stroke. He looked down and saw your face scrunched up in agony as you tried to adjust to his size, but his increasing pleasure drowned out any sympathy that may have arisen.
With every thrust, the tight friction of your unprepared body gripped his cock, begging for release.
"Goddamn, girl. You're so fucking tight," Thomas grunted, grabbing onto your hips for better leverage as he prepared himself to ejaculate deep inside you. "And I am going to cum so hard, Love."
"No, please don't," you managed to say in a shaky voice, tears still streaming down your cheeks, but your plea fell on deaf ears.
Thomas pressed himself in deeper, grinding his hips into you as he released his semen inside your already aching-from-pain pussy.
"Sssh, it's okay Love. It's almost over. Fuck," Thomas groaned into your ear as he convulsed, his cock twitching inside your abused pussy, filling you with his warm cum.
You couldn't help but wince as he came inside you, the painful sensation of his seed filling every inch of your tight pussy sending waves of discomfort throughout your entire body.
It was a sticky and wet feeling, and you could feel his cum seeping out of your pussy, trailing down the crack of your ass and onto the bedsheets beneath you.
Thomas, his body now still and spent, rolled off of you and collapsed onto the bed next to you.
His chest was still heaving, his breaths slowing down, and you could hear his satisfied grunts and groans as he lay there, savoring the afterglow of what he had just done to you.
You, on the other hand, were lying there crying, tears streaming down your face as you stared blankly up at the ceiling. You could feel his warm, wet seed mixed with the blood from your now-torn hymen slowly seeping out of your pussy, leaving you feeling violated, dirty, and devastated.
"Why?" you managed to whisper, your voice shaking as you struggled to come to terms with what had just happened.
Thomas didn't respond right away, but after a few seconds, he sat up and turned to face you.
"Why?" he echoed, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I thought it was clear, Love. You were mine for the taking."
#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#thomas shelby imagine#cilliean murphy smut#cillian murphy#thomas shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby smut
170 notes
·
View notes
Text
Treat Me Wrong
Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink
warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
“I think we should break up,” you say.
Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.
This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?
“I’m not happy!” you say.
Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”
“Love and attention,” you huff.
“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”
“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"
"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."
His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.
"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"
Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"
"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"
He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.
"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.
"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.
"I have certain needs that they satisfy."
You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."
Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."
You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."
He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"
"Yes, Tommy."
"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"
"Why would I get upset?"
Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."
"Harsh?" you ask.
"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."
"Okay," you breathe.
Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.
You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.
You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.
"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.
Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.
“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.
Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.
"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.
"N-none," you whimper.
"Sounds like business is slow."
He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.
"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.
"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.
"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."
You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.
That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.
"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.
"No, sir," you reply.
You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.
"Mm, good."
He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.
"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.
With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.
"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."
You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.
"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."
"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.
"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"
It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.
"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."
"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders smut#kinktober#kinktober 2023
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚
tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby angst#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fucking blinders#peaky blinder headcanon#tommy shelby headcanon#tommy shelby fanfic#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian series#cillian smut#cillian one shot#cillian fic#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy#cillian fluff#anna’s boys
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Gone with the Leaves
Pairing: Tommy Shelby / Wife Reader
Summary: Despite your happy marriage to Tommy, you feel an undeniable jealousy towards Lizzie. Perhaps a day in the forest will do you some good.
ao3 link
A/N: I'm starting a tag list, comment if you want to be added :)
-
“You write like you’re running out of time,” mused Lizzie Stark, former prostitute, now Tommy’s secretary. “They have typewriters for those types of things, y’know?”
You saw the volley of cannonballs that launched and subsequently landed on Tommy’s desk as the words left her mouth. It wasn’t that you expected more of poor old plain Lizzie, but you thought that the time she had spent lying on her back staring past the shoulder of a customer at the ceiling would have taught her to read a room. Nevertheless, she stood there, quite amused with herself, smiling stupidly at your husband.
Tommy, who had been sitting at his desk all afternoon attending to letters, the ledger, and god knows what else, peered up from the paper. “What did you say?”
This time, it was your turn to be amused. He pointed accusingly at Lizzie, who by then had realised her impetuous mistake. Her wide eyes fluttered to you desperately, like a bee that had indulged itself in so much pollen that it became stuck in its own honey. No, that was putting it lightly. She looked to you like a frightened child who knew exactly what kind of trouble they were in.
You made sure you looked the other way.
“It was only a silly joke,” came her spluttering apology.
Tommy squinted, and his mouth curled into a frown. Smoke chased the deep exhale from the cigarette hanging between his lips. Your husband carried this terrifying look to him that many feared. Without the peaky cap to cover his striking blue eyes, you saw his glare cut away the cords in Lizzie’s throat with just one look. How could poor Lizzie defend herself from eyes that had witnessed nightmarish things?
“I’m not clear. Is it funny that I sign my letters by hand, or are you above using ink now that you have graduated from the bed to the desk?”
Lizzie’s mouth wormed into a thin line, yet she still looked to you for help. Of what help she thought you would possibly spare, you weren’t sure. For once, Lizzie used initiative and showed herself out.
Your heels clacked across the wooden threshold of your husband’s office. Now that no one was there to disturb you both, you sat down on Tommy’s lap. By then, he was leaning back on his chair, work abandoned for the time being until he could wash the sour sight of Lizzie Stark from his eyes.
“You know I don’t like her,” you said plainly.
There was no need for fake smiles or lies with Tommy. You knew him, and he knew you.
Tommy exhaled loudly, stubbing out the last of his cigarette on his ashtray and taking a swig of whiskey before his calloused hand found your waist.
He clears his throat. “It’s only business with her.”
“I know, but that doesn’t mean I like her any less.”
Tommy loved you, not Lizzie Stark, yet you couldn’t stomach the undeniable jealousy that arose with her presence. Perhaps it was a natural inclination women had toward their lovers. Lizzie had never done anything outwardly wrong to you. So, what was it then that turned your plain teeth into hissing fangs?
Everyone knew that Tommy was one of her paying customers before you met him, but so were all of Small Heath. You never felt insecure in your relationship with Tommy; there was no need to feel threatened by a prostitute. Yet that wouldn’t stop the catty feline that emerged from its slumber when Lizzie’s wandering eyes battered at your husband.
No. Lizzie Stark would never know what it felt like to be loved by a man like Tommy. What you held in your hands each night was a transcendental, unconditional type of love—one that surpassed the heart and soul, which drew two beings together in the most unconventional yet fitting way. The way that covers kept you warm at night, Tommy watched over your hearth and kept the fire burning, even if he were on the other side of the country.
You closed your eyes, leaning into the valley between Tommy’s neck and shoulder as you listened for the bah-dum-bah-dum of his heart. They sat together in silence, cherishing each other’s presence, while Tommy rested his cheek on your head. Outside, the world waited, barking at their front door and scratching at the delicately carved wood. Even the rain lashed at the windowpanes, playing together like one elemental orchestra.
The hand not resting on your waist rose to gently stroke up and down your arm. You shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold.
“I think you have some work to attend to in the bedroom,” you mumbled into his neck.
Your nose searched for the spot where he applied his aftershave.
“Eh?” Came his gruff response.
Your hand wandered down his suit in answer.
-
The sheets were bundled around Tommy’s naked waist when you sauntered back over to the bed with his case of cigarettes in hand. Gratefully, he took the case from your hand, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into the warmth of his chest. Then he began the usual routine. He fished out a cigarette to offer, but you shook your head no, so he slid it once, then twice, across his bottom lip. On the bedside table, he grabbed the half-empty matchbox to light the cigarette.
Tommy was the resident chain smoker in your house. With an appetite for tobacco and whiskey, you often wondered just how he sustained himself throughout the day. Of course, there were the home-cooked meals at Arrow House waiting for his return, although that didn’t stop you from worrying any less. It was pathetic, really, sitting all alone in his study, twiddling your fingers, and sitting beneath his portrait like you were praying to him. Tommy was no god, no matter how much he tried to convince everyone else. Yet whenever headlights passed the window and lit up the office momentarily, you would stand up and peer out, hoping to spot your husband exiting the car.
He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to the present. You loved watching the way the cigarette shifted between his lips when he spoke, even more when his hooded eyes looked over at you. Tommy was a man of few words, simply because he didn’t need language to communicate. His body spoke for him in tongues for all his enemies to understand. And more importantly, in a way your body understood.
Your hand abandoned his tattoo to stroke a thumb across his full bottom lip. Lust swelled there, eager to chase the rest of the night away into a haze of pleasure until the sun rose. As tempting as it was, you sighed at the thought. You would rather spend this time taking in your husband, remembering the fine details across his face and body, from the scar in the hollow of his cheek to the rough texture beneath his shoulder blade where a bullet was once lodged. You wanted to trace the sockets of his eyes the way a blind person would, treasuring each valley, mountain, and cut of skin as if it were to disappear the second you stopped touching him.
“You’re beautiful,” you decided, bathed in candlelight, tangled up between the sheets and Tommy’s arms.
Tommy’s brows furrowed, and the cigarette hung dangerously loose from where his lips curled into a frown. He grunted, clearly dissatisfied with your words. Tommy wasn’t beautiful. He was hard, ambitious, and unmovable force.
Beautiful was a conventional word savored for the finest women. To you? It meant so much more. Crafted in a way that would cause people to stare, sure, but there was also a poetic sense to the word. The type of beauty you would use to describe a well-written novel or heart-wrenching poem. Thomas Shelby stood for something, and that was beautiful.
“Then what are you, eh?”
A lazy smile floated onto your face, so much so that you had to bite your lip to refrain from looking devastatingly pleased at his answer.
A woman, a dreamer, a friend, a reader, an achiever. “A wife.”
He huffed, raising his eyebrows playfully.
Why was it that most women felt like they could only fit the frame of one? With Tommy, you were never limited to the endless possibilities. You treasured being a wife the same way you treasured your other roles. Marriage wasn’t the end all be all. Perhaps that’s another lie men spun—that perfectly capable women stopped existing as soon as a diamond ring slid onto their finger. How sad, you thought, to waste away all that potential when men were still free to pursue stupid ideas like war and dog fights.
Tommy was unbothered by traditional ideas like that. Change powered his ambition; he had no time for parallel lines. You could be his wife, a writer, a singer, or a mother—whatever you wanted—and he wouldn’t think of you any less.
You hummed, chasing that cigarette from his lips and stubbing it out in the ash tray by his bedside table. Tommy didn’t seem too heartbroken about it. In fact, there was some mirth in his gaze. His hands traced up your naked spine, pulling your body further into his until you could smell the smoke in his breath.
“Yes,” he breathed in loudly through his nose, “my wife.”
-
The following day, you were invited to the Basnett's hunting party. You would’ve been more enthusiastic to write about your excitement to attend if the whole ordeal hadn’t been so troublesome. Because a few days prior, when you were visiting your husband’s office, you had caught sight of the letter on Lizzie’s desk, a letter that was supposed to reach you days earlier.
“What’s this?” You asked.
“Oh, nothing interesting,” Lizzie had said, too occupied with filing her nails while on the clock.
You kept your composure for the sake of keeping the peace. You didn’t wish to disturb Tommy if he were to walk by.
“This is a letter addressed to me,” you pressed.
“Oh.” She stopped for a moment, then leaned over to read the letter you had pulled from the messy pile. “No, it’s addressed to Tommy.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Shelby,” you hissed quietly, with emphasis on the missus.
“Hm, I didn’t notice.”
“You are paid to notice.” You fought the urge to comment that she was paid for other things not long ago. “How long has this been sitting here?”
Lizzie tapped her cigarette ash into the tray. “The post boy dropped that lot off yesterday.”
Even if it was only two days late to reach your hand, by society’s standards, that may have well been taken as you snubbing the invitation. Frustratingly, you had to cancel your plans that day and personally deliver your letter to the Basnett’s door, citing some excuse of it having been lost in the post.
“That woman is up to no good.” You said glumly that night into Tommy’s chest.
“I’ll speak to her,” he promised in that stoic tone of his.
Whether he had been true to his words, you weren’t sure because Lizzie made an effort to avoid you when possible.
“Oh! Mrs. Shelby! How wonderful for you to join us! Come in, come in. The men are readying their rifles for the hunt outside. How exciting!” Gushed Lady Basnett, shooing you into the atrium of her lavish mansion.
Your riding boots clacked across the floor before being muffled by an intricately woven rug. You stared up at the chandelier, childishly wondering if it would hit you if it were to fall at that moment.
“Right this way, Mrs. Shelby!” Lady Basnett ushered excitably.
You debated if all her energy was for show—to please her husband and be the good wife he expected of her. After she showed you through to the veranda and down to the circle of wives who had gathered under the trees while their husbands readied for the hunt, you decided that no, she must truly enjoy planning social occasions like this, as evidenced by the way she kissed Sarah’s cheek in greeting with a wide grin.
It pleased you to know that Lady Basnett found joy in something. Ever since her eldest died in the war, she has been known to be a bit of a recluse.
“Oh, what a beautiful ring! May we see it?” Doe-eyed Catherine asked.
She was one of the younger wives, like yourself. Catherine married an older man, twice her senior. Many of the wives here faulted her for it behind her back, but not you. You saw more of yourself in her than you did in any of the other women. Because, despite the age gap, the girl seemed to be utterly head-over-heels in love with a man society deemed old-fashioned for her. And how could you blame her when you swore an oath to a gangster of all people?
You obliged and let the wives twist and turn your hand to better inspect the diamonds on your ring finger.
“It’s perfect!”
“How many carats?”
“My Mary would be so jealous!”
After dutifully showing your wedding ring, you noticed the men beginning to mount their horses.
Catherine hooked her arm around yours. “Come on, we are going to be left behind!”
She jovially pulled you along the stone tiles at a speed that made you grateful for wearing riding boots. The backyard was grand in the sense that the acres they owned stretched vastly into the nearby forest. Although there were impressive features, like the hedge they had grown into a maze and the trees that were shaped into birds.
“Lady Basnett owned an aviary of budgies. Dear little things they were, she was devastated when they all escaped one night after the groundskeeper forgot to close the door,” Catherine commented, having noticed the way your head was turned.
You laughed, because you could precisely picture Lady Basnett as the type to fawn over little budgies.
Catherine led you to the horses, where some of the wives were already perched, waiting for the party to leave. None of them carried rifles, but rather wicker baskets strapped to the saddle for the picnic they planned to have at the top of the hill while they waited for their husbands to finish hunting.
Together, you set off, having mounted the back of Catherine’s mare. Deeper into the forest you went, the black mare trotting over loose dirt and rocks. Both of you remained at the end of the pack, preferring to keep to yourselves in light conversation.
Then it all happened so suddenly. One of the rifles went off up ahead, and a flock of birds rushed at you from the break in the foliage, startling your mare. You gasped in shock and reached for Catherine’s jacket to hold on, but only skimmed her. She went face first into the dirt while you were swept into the air like a leaf and fell with the grace of a rock. The ground thundered as the mare galloped into the distance.
“Fuck!” Catherine spat.
(On her fall she had taken a mouthful of soil and leaves.)
“They’ll come back,” you tried to reassure her.
-
Hours later, the two of you still had not been found.
“I was a prostitute before George found me, y’know.”
No, you didn’t know.
“That’s why I’m so young and he so old,” she smiled fondly, laughing as if it were the most normal thing.
You couldn’t find it in your heart to dislike her because of her circumstances. She was your friend, and a true one at that.
What was it that Tommy said? The past is the past.
-
The sun began to set when one of the men from the hunting party found you both huddled together under a tree. Kindly, he let the two of you ride the rest of the way back despite your hesitance to mount another horse.
When you returned to Lady Basnett’s, with Catherine in arm, the sun had been set for at least two hours. You hadn’t realized what trouble you had gotten yourself into until you noticed Tommy’s Bentley parked in the crowded driveway of the mansion. Men stood at the gate, armed and waiting. Catherine opened her mouth to remark how ridiculous it was, but you kept your lips sealed after recognizing the guards to be Peaky Blinders.
Tommy had to be beside himself.
A young boy who was playing between the cars popped his head out when the gates squealed open. His ears perked up, and he ran inside, clutching his peaky cap, to probably inform the adults inside of your arrival. People pooled out onto the front steps, the women covering their hearts and sighing with relief, and the men holding their hats to their chests. But when your husband, Tommy, came storming out, they parted like the red sea.
He stalked across the gravel like a predator, his eyes trained on you with an unblinking stare.
“Are you hurt?” He ignored Catherine, cupping your face and frantically looking between both your eyes as if you would disappear.
Upon further inspection, his eyes were bloodshot, and the white sleeves of his blouse were bundled into the golden garters. Your hands itched to muse his disheveled hair into place, but with all the curious onlookers, you thought better of it.
“No.”
George, Catherine’s husband, was quick to whisk her away inside. You heard Lady Basnett’s voice trailing after them: “Oh my, what a terrible thing. Come now, let me pour you some tea.”
Unfortunately, tea wouldn’t make up for any lost ground with Tommy.
“We’re going.”
You knew better to open your mouth to disagree. This was Tommy being afraid and carrying on. He retreated into himself. It didn’t look pretty or like he cared, but he cared; you knew he cared. It was only that no one else was allowed to know that the great Thomas Shelby felt any emotion.
At Arrow House, he swallowed two glasses of whiskey before saying a word. You were pulling at the hem of the overcoat that Tommy had shook off his shoulders to give you for the ride home. Your fingers just couldn’t stand the anxious silence that rang throughout the room.
“What the fuck happened?”
He stood in front of you, stoic as a soldier but cracking around the exterior thanks to his hand, which itched for the cigarette case inside his pocket. (A nervous tick of his.) You grab his hand between your own before he can fish out the case.
“The horse got spooked. It bucked Catherine and me off, but we’re fine.”
His thumb rubs across your knuckles as he looks past your shoulder out the window.
“Do you know where I was when I got the call? Eh? I was handling some business when Lizzie came in and told me some posh old woman was on the line, saying you were missing.”
He exhaled sharply, dropping his gaze to you, where you noticed his eyes soften.
“I thought…” He broke off.
His chin dropped, and he went to itch his nose with his other hand.
“What did you think happened? Is there something I should know about?” Concern leaked into your voice.
“No,” he huffed, clearing his throat. “It doesn’t matter. You’re home, and you’re safe.”
You bit your lip to stop yourself from saying anything that might push him over the edge. He was fragile in a state like this in the sense that he pushed the stronger, more vivid feelings to the side because you were his wife, not a Peaky Blinder. No, you would never be, even though you married one.
Often, you would wish you could turn into the leaves that swept off the pavement and into the air. Imagine then how much easier life would be for you both—to forget the animosity of life and rise above it all, breathe in that crystal air, and then finally exclaim the truth because up there no one could hear them or cared enough to try anyway.
Cautiously, you let go of his hand and traced your fingertips up to knead away the tension in his jaw.
“Thomas… Do you remember what you asked of me? To help you with the whole fucking thing—”
“From now on—”
“Thomas—”
“From now on, let me know where you are going. I will organize a guard to watch over you.”
‘You write like you’re running out of time,’ Lizzie’s poorly placed joke from the start of the week reverberated in your skull.
Was he?
“I need you,” he breathed, the smell of whiskey fanning over your senses.
You nodded, pressing up on your toes to kiss him. A soft breath escaped him when you pulled away.
“You have me.”
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby imagine#cillian x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x fem!reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders x reader#fanfiction#fanfic
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
look at me t.s.
Pairing | Thomas Shelby x Female reader
Summary | When Mrs. Shelby requests Tommy in the room with her for the birth of their first daughter everyone is shocked. Men aren't supposed to be in the room with their wives as they give birth, it's just not how it is supposed to be... well all men aren't Thomas Shelby.
Warnings | Mentions of childbirth, pain obviously she's literally giving birth, maybe ooc Tommy? idk. Reader is a little mean to her doctors but she's in pain cut her some slack. MDNI because I said so. Foul language.
Word Count | .06k
~This is loosely based off of the scene in Queen Charlotte when they won't let George into the room to see Charlotte. If you know what I'm talking about I love you~
All dialogue in italics is spoken in Romani.
"Mrs Shelby forgive me but husbands aren't usually in the room during the birth" The doctor spoke hesitantly as his eyes flicked nervously around the room.
Everyone seemed to speak hesitantly around her. I guess that was what you get when you become a Shelby. Everyone around you is constantly terrified to tell you no or disagree. It was like being royalty in a sort of fucked up way.
Polly Gray cut the doctor a look as she walked over to you and put a reassuring hand on your forehead.
"Polly please" you cried in pain "I need him here." Nothing from the old wive tales could compare to the pain you were feeling. You had been pushing for hours now with Polly at your side but nothing was working. Your daughter simply just would not budge. Polly had made the comment early on about her already showing traits from her father.
"I don't care what usually happens. If Tommy Shelby is not in this room in the next five minutes, I will personally end you." You spoke with a hiss pointing at the doctor.
You weren't usually this aggressive, but given the fact you were in pain and used to getting what you wanted all the time, the circumstances were different.
Polly sighed as she looked down at you and began to head out of the room.
"What's wrong, is she okay?" Tommy spoke immediately as Polly exited the doors of your room.
"She's requesting you Thomas" Polly spoke in Romani so as to not alert the other doctors of your request.
"She wants me in the room with her?" He spoke hesitantly as he looked towards the door.
Polly nodded and Tommy immediately started towards the door.
"I'm sorry Mr. Shelby but I cannot allow you to be in the room." The doctor outside of your door spoke as his eyes flicked down to the floor to avoid Tommy's sharp gaze.
"Tell me, doctor, do you like your job?" Tommy spoke with a raised brow as he waited for his response.
When he didn't reply Tommy bent down to reach his gaze "Hmm? I asked you a question doctor, do you like your job?"
"Yes. Yes I like my job" He murmured still avoiding the sharp blue eyes that were currently staring daggers at the man.
"Well if you intend on staying alive long enough to keep it, I suggest you move out of my way." Tommy stood up straight and tilted his head towards the door.
The doctor nodded and stepped aside, letting Tommy enter the room. "If I hear one more word from anyone about my presence in this room, I will have a peaky blinder on each and every one of your doorsteps first thing tomorrow morning" Tommy spoke before anyone could protest.
"Tommy" you gasped as you finally laid eyes on your husband. "I've been asking for you"
"I know, I know. But I'm here now eh? I'm here now." Tommy bent down to give your forehead a kiss as you winced.
"I cant do this Tommy" you cried "I want it to be over"
Tommy's heart broke at the sight of you. His wife. He wished he could just take all of your pain away and keep it for himself.
Tommy bent down to kneel at the side of your bed as he cradled your face in his hands.
"Look at me. Hey, Look at me, love." He spoke softly as you turned your head to gaze at him with teary eyes.
"You can do this. I know you can. You are the most headstrong women I know, and ill be damned if you give up now." You giggled at his lighthearted teasing and nodded.
"And you don't really have a choice love. This baby has got to come out in one way or another." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at your husband.
"Okay Mrs. Shelby its time to push" Your doctor spoke as Tommy placed a kiss on the hand he had ahold of and nodded at you.
"Let's meet our daughter Mrs. Shelby."
#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#cillian murphy x reader smut#cillian murphy#thomas shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinder imagine
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵
Oh absolutely...!
God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)
Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part One!
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)
18+ Minors DNI
To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.
Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.
It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.
"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."
Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.
"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.
"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"
"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."
You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.
"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."
"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."
You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.
Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.
"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.
"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"
You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."
"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.
"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.
"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.
You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.
"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.
"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."
"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.
"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.
"Fuck, tommy!"
"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.
"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.
"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.
And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."
He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.
He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."
You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.
-
I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#cillian#cillian murphy fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! Can I request Tommy Shelby who loves to spoil his gf and she has a hard time accepting it all but he reassures her in a very loving and protective way (hope you get what I mean lol) thank you! :')
a/n: This is short but I hope I did your idea justice! I just want to see him smile 😭
grand gestures
Thomas Shelby x f!reader
Warnings: Tommy being happy and in love, Tommy’s love language is gift-giving I don’t make the rules, kissing
You had been seeing Thomas Shelby for a while now and he was absolutely smitten. You have never met a man who doted on you as much as he did. Under his hardened exterior was a man longing to love and be loved.
On a particularly cold evening, you arrived home to a surprise. On your bed lay a beautiful new coat you had seen in the shops while out with Tommy. You must have stared at it in the window a little too long. He took that as a sign that you wanted it. You hadn’t even thought to go in and check the price tag, let alone purchase it.
Tommy knew you weren’t used to receiving many gifts so he made it his personal mission to make you comfortable with it. He’d started with a gold bracelet.
You had gasped when he took it out of the small box. “Tommy, you can’t. This is too much.”
“It’s not. Nothing is too much when it comes to you.” It was almost threatening. It sounded like a warning when he said it. It was foolish to underestimate how much you meant to him.
After the bracelet, he began giving you gifts periodically, even things you didn’t need or want. It was difficult for you to understand why he even bothered to give you all those things. Any other woman would welcome new dresses and jewels with open arms. Instead, you just felt like you didn’t deserve it.
You stared at the coat on your bed. Its fur collar was sure to keep you warm, you thought. The gold buttons going down one side shone in the dim light of your bedroom. You held it up and gawked at it. You rubbed your face into the fur and smiled. You didn’t notice, but Tommy was standing in the doorway.
“Why don’t you try it on?” His voice made you jump and you dropped the coat, putting your hands over your heart.
“Jesus, Tommy!” You sighed and laughed. He had been making a habit of being at your home before you were. He usually made himself known somehow, but tonight he decided to be a bit of a prankster.
“Sorry, love, couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, walked towards you, and pulled you in for a kiss. He always kissed you like it was the last time he would be able to.
He pulled away, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Tommy, but” you looked down at the item of clothing, “you really didn’t have to. Really, you never have to.” You looked back at him and his arms were crossed, his head cocked to the right. He sighed and put his hands on your arms, caressing them.
Looking into your eyes he asked, “Do you love me?”
You replied slightly irritated “I’ve never loved a man more, Tommy, and you know that. I just- I’m not used to you spoiling me like this.”
“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gonna have to get used to it, love. Now, are you my girl?” He was deadly serious. He was never controlling, but you were his and his alone. He wanted to make sure you understood that.
You looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”
His hands held your waist as he pulled you in closer. He kissed you passionately. A small moan escaped. It was intoxicating. After a few moments, you pulled away for air. He put his forehead against yours and gave you a chaste kiss.
“You are worth more than anything I could ever give you. I wish I could give you the world,” he smirked, “the coat is the best I can do for now.”
You smiled softly at him. It would take some more work on your part but you knew that he did it because he cared.
“Thank you, Tommy. I love you.” You gave him a quick kiss.
He pulled away with a smile and said, “I love you, too.”
He reached over to your bed and grabbed the new coat, holding it up for you. You quickly took off your old one and he helped you put your arms through the sleeves of the new one. The inside of the coat felt just as luxurious as the exterior. The fur brushing your neck was comforting and warmed your skin. You stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in your reflection. Tommy stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, holding you flush against him. You turned your head to make eye contact with him.
He whispered, “You look beautiful, my love.”
You had hearts in your eyes, “You make me beautiful, Tommy.”
#annie’s asks#i proofread this but no one is perfect#annie writes#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fic#peaky blinder fanfic#cillian x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Protection || Thomas Shelby x reader
Synopsis: You were protecting your son, Charlie when Billy Kimber's men ambushed your shared home.
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x reader
Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured, gun violence, mentions of blood, swearing, Grace's being mentioned once - s2 spoiler
Notes: Not proofread, grammatical errors, GIF is mine
Click here to find the main masterlist.
Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS masterlist.
As another regular evening took place, a sense of peace descended over Thomas Shelby and his wife's shared home. While Tommy was busy with his business and papers, you found yourself wandering the enormous area of the estate with your young son, Charlie.
Marriage with Tommy wasn't for the faint of heart. You were highly aware of the ongoing danger that accompanied his lifestyle, the circulating threats and enemies that followed your husband's every step. Despite the obvious risks your love for him remained strong. You treasured him not as an infamous gangster, but as the man who made you feel valued, protected, and appreciated.
There was nothing but silence in the huge home; you could hear the clock ticking and the curtains flapping as the breeze shook the cloth. It was a Saturday night, so the maids weren't working, leaving you and Charlie alone.
Charlie's eyelids were going drowsy as you cuddled him, softly caressing his back and humming his favorite lullaby. Looking at the clock, you realized how late it was, and Tommy hadn't returned home yet.
You heard the main entrance door open with a loud bang. Although it seemed strange, you assumed Tommy was just returning from a stressful day at work. Charlie woke up from his sleep and let out a loud cry when you heard gunfires as you were ready to leave your shared room. You were so terrified that you thought your legs were paralyzed. Without wasting any time, you grabbed Charlie and put his little body against your shoulder, giving him a tight hug.
With Charlie in one hand, you dashed to the door, locked it almost instantly, and took out the Enfield No. 2 six-bullet handgun that your husband had given you as a birthday present from the nightstand's drawer. You grab the gun and duck into the shared bedroom's bathroom, shutting the door behind you.
The room was filled with the sound of the little Shelby's piercing cries, which seemed to come from every corner. You tried so hard to soothe him, cooing softly, but all it did was make his cries louder and more echoing through the walls. As you tried to calm him, your hands trembled with fear and your fingers stuttering, a sign of your growing terror running down your face. You felt powerless in the face of Charlie's constant tears, and you started to search for a way out of the mess.
You started nervously to pray while holding a child in your arms. Tears were beginning to fall from your eyes and the prayers were mumbling on your lips.
Charlie and you were found by whoever was in your shared room as you heard the door slam. Breathless, you lowered your son onto the empty, shallow bath tub behind you and spoke to him to stop crying. and that you will return quickly.
When the toilet door opened, two armed men in a hideous black suit and a top hat appeared; they were Billy Kimber workers.
One of the armed men circled around you and exclaimed, "Aye look, it's Mrs. Shelby," as you aimed your handgun at him, your hands shaking with terror.
You've never been skilled with a gun. Tommy giving you a gun like that surprised you. He would not stop stating, "You'll use that in the future."
and perhaps the future was today.
"Suprised a Shelby doesn't know how to use a gun. How about we gift Thomas Shelby the lifeless body of his dear wife?" the man laughed.
You raised the gun without thinking, your hand steady from the rush of adrenaline pumping through you, and took aim at the man's skull. The bullet cracked sharply and shot out of the barrel, piercing the air and hitting its target with terrifying accuracy. With a bleak proof to your determination, fortune smiled on you as the bullet hit accurate, plunging into the man's forehead with fatal force and instantly taking his life.
Attempting to fire another shot to the other man, you missed.
Suddenly, you heard a bang go off but paid no mind. Attempting to shoot again, you finally succeded; three bullets all over the now lifeless man's torso. The sight of the lifeless bodies made you feel sick but you chose to ignore it as you dropped your used gun to go and grab Charlie and ask for help. You grabbed your son right away, immediately hugging him and kissed his little forehead.
Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name; Tommy.
His voice reaching out for you made you sigh with relief. Your husband ran toward you as your legs found their way to the stairs to return to him.
You embraced him, resting your head on his chest and taking in his manly scent as you exhaled. "Oh god, Tommy.."
She took Charlie out of your arms and gave you a minute to rest in Tommy's calming presence in Polly's comforting presence. Tommy's hand gently cradled the back of your head as you leaned into him, seeking solace from the chaos of the moment in his gentle, comforting touch. His voice, a comforting whisper that passed through the chaos, whispered, "You're safe now, love."
He felt a warm wetness on his dark blue vest, making him break the hug to see what it was.
Tommy's eyes widened in fear at what he saw, and he let out a gasp. Once an image of elegance, your immaculate white evening gown now had a scarlet stain of blood creeping across it, the color standing out against the fabric. The room seemed to spin in a dizzying twister, threatening to paralyze you as the color faded from your face, your face was pale and your vision seemed to spin like a twister.
"Did you get shot?" he worriedly asked. Confused by his question, you looked down at your stomach, seeing the color red slowly colonizing your white evening gown.
"I - I um.. Tommy, I feel dizzy.." your fragile legs gave up, his strong arms catched you almost immediately.
Your eyes were starting to drop, your body was slowly getting cold, your muscles giving up.
"T - Tommy, why is so cold..?"
Fuck, he mentally cursed at the sight that met his eyes. It was as if God had judged him once more. Grace - this seemed so familiar. His fingers were shaking with fear and worry, his eyes were beginning to water, and his heart had stopped.
"We need a medic!" Polly shouted.
He tries to calm himself down by caressing the strands of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. "Please, stay." he begged.
His frustration was boiling over and his impatience was burning in the way he spoke. He gave orders for the medics with a strong edge to his voice, desperation and anger infusing each word as he demanded their immediate presence.
"Tommy.." you softly called his name before darkness took you.
Your stomach hurt and your brain throbbed when you woke up. Beside you, you noticed your husband uncomfortably sleeping on the wooden chair. You noticed that the ash tray on the table stand next to you was filled with used cigarettes, indicating that you had been out for a while.
You were trying to sit up and Tommy woke up to the sound of your pained moans. His bright blue eyes met yours. Eyebags developed under his eyes as a result of struggling to sleep due to the chance that you wouldn't wake up anymore.
"Easy, love." he said.
In an attempt to prevent him from harming you, he cradled your back so you could lie down peacefully once more—as though you were a piece of glass that would shatter the moment it was touched.
He deeply blames himself for what happened to you. If only he was there that night. If only he went home early, you and Charlie wouldn't be in this situation.
"Where's Charlie?" you asked right away, your eyes looking everywhere in the room to see if your child was there or not.
"He's with Aunt Pol, (y/n). He's safe with her, don't worry."
With both of his hands clasped around yours, he sobbed out loud in front of you, unable to stop himself from crying. He felt responsible, guilty, and like a terrible partner for failing to give you protection.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry.." he cried as he apologized, kissing your hands.
You smiled softly as you placed your right hand on his face for him to look at you.
"It's not your fault, Tommy. The good thing is that me and Charlie are safe." reassuring, you gave him a weak smile.
"I thought I lost you." he exhaled in exhaustion, standing up as he kissed your head.
"I would never leave you, Tommy."
"Please don't."
#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders angst#angst with a happy ending#x reader
475 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little You-s and I-s
Thomas Shelby x Reader
Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.
Your pregnancy changed you a lot.
You became more sensitive to smell for example.
One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.
Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.
Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.
What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.
Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.
"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.
"What? Why?"
"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."
"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.
"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."
"No problem, thank you for the tea."
"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.
When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.
"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."
"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.
Both headed into the dining room instead.
"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.
"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."
"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."
"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."
"Does she always cry during cooking?"
"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."
"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."
"She talks back like I have never heard before."
"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.
"She didn't like the ring?"
"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."
"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray.
You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.
"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.
"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.
"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."
"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.
John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.
Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.
"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"
"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.
You were fine with 'odd'.
"I try to control it, you know?"
"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."
"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."
"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.
"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.
"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."
"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."
"What if they don't?"
"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.
"Just how many children my Missus want?"
"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."
"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."
You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.
Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter @stunkbiggu @violet-19999 @praline357
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS
#Thomas Shelby x reader#Thomas Shelby x you#Thomas Shelby imagine#Thomas Shelby imagines#Thomas Shelby#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby imagines#peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder headcanon#cilian murphy character#pregnant reader#pregnancy
4K notes
·
View notes
Text
The Layers of Thomas Shelby - Frozen Fear (one-shot)
Synopsis: Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that...
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, slight fluff
Warnings: graphic descriptions of blood, injuries, kidnapping, swearing, death not sticking to canon whatsoever :)
Word count: 3028
Fear was something Thomas Shelby was intimately acquainted with. He elicited it and made others tremble to their very core with just a glance or a whisper of his name from someone else’s lips. Fear was as much a shadow in his life, as his daughter who followed him around wherever she could.
But fear was also what he felt in that exact moment as he stared at the bloodied napkin on his table, the silver locket he’d gifted Y/N when their child had turned one inside it, a simple note of “For Angel” attached to it.
Sadie was tight asleep on his chest when he’d received the damned box. Y/N had taken her to Ada’s so she could have the day to herself, get her body pampered, do up her hair and maybe spend a bit of money on some new shoes or a winter coat as a birthday present from him. If she’d asked, Tommy would’ve bought her the Eifel tower, and she’d bloody well deserve it. Valentine's was coming up, after all.
He was so proud of her. Despite the certain things that’d happened, he wouldn’t want anyone else to share a life with. She’d picked up the broken pieces Grace had left his heart in and mended it with gold. But gold didn’t matter at that moment when he didn’t know where she was. Where her body was.
When Frances had brought in the box that’d been left by the doorstep, Sadie had been softly snoring on his shoulder for the better part of an hour while he ran tired blue eyes over the logs of the previous week.
He thanked her, his voice a whisper to not stir his toddler, before cautiously examining the square. When he opened it, Tommy swore his heart stopped beating. Or he wished it did. Because it wasn’t like that time when Grace’s boyfriend had taken Y/N, or like that time she’d gotten mugged behind a shop. No. This time, he knew she was dead, and he wished he was too.
It took all of his self-control to ring up his brothers and tell them to get to Arrow House right that second. It took all of his restraint not to shout or scream, the only thing tethering him to earth and sanity his pride and joy asleep in his arms.
When Arthur and John got to his home office, Tommy simply threw them the note, his eyes trained on the small oval locket, thumb tracing the inscription upon it, smearing blood more and more over his own hands.
“Find her.” Those were the only words he uttered.
For a brief second, he’d glanced up and saw terror rush through the eyes of his brothers; he knew how much the two loved his wife, they loved her like they loved Ada and Polly, so without a second to spare, they ran back out, no doubt to gather every Blinder and search every nook and cranny while he clutched the brown-haired girl to his chest, the silver locket clutched in his other palm.
He wasn’t a religious man, didn’t even necessarily believe what his gipsy ancestors did or even his aunt Pol, but at that moment he turned his head to the ceiling and prayed to whoever might listen, old gods and new, Norse and Greek and Slavic – anyone that would hear his pleas.
Tommy thought back to every time Y/N had smiled at him, had laughed and filled his world with light. He even thought back to all those insane moments where he felt like his jaw would snap with how hard he’d been clenching it because of some stupid thing she’d done. He wished he’d appreciated those moments more because when two hours later Arthur came back to the house, the coat his wife had been wearing that morning in his hands, soaked and dripping freezing water onto the Turkish carpet, Tommy knew she was gone.
***
Her whole world consisted of cold, nothing else. It was the only thing she could feel, taste and sense. Was there anything to sense? Y/N didn’t know. She didn’t even fully believe her legs were still attached to her body, but somehow she was making her way across the field.
Time had become a concept she couldn’t comprehend, and the only thing that showed it had passed was the ever-changing position of the moon - her only companion through the long journey.
She had stopped shaking a while back, which it didn’t take her being a genius to know meant trouble if she didn’t find a way to get warm, but even that didn’t matter. Nothing but getting home did. If she had to die, she wanted to do it there, not somewhere in a ditch let alone beneath the frozen surface of the lake where Luka Changretta had dumped her.
He thought she’d been dead. He’d slit her throat, but not before ripping off the beautiful little necklace Tommy had gifted her.
“So he has something to remember you by,” the Italian mobster had given her a mocking smile before taking a knife from his side and slicing it across her neck.
The pain had been blinding, knocking all sense of reality out of her mind. She knew it would be the end. When her body lifted above the chair she’d been tied to, when her back greeted plush leather seats, her blood staining them forever. She knew she would die sooner or later. Then sweet blackness greeted her.
But death was a lot more painful than what it’d been described to be like in all the books she'd read and edited, especially the wound in her throat. Her breaths were white-hot knives dragging down her oesophagus and her lungs were on fire with each shallow take of air.
Through a haze, Y/N heard Italian being spoken before two rough hands grabbed her by the ankles and dragged her out of the car.
Her body hit the frozen ground with a thud, and it took every bit of remaining brainpower not to whimper from the pain. The winter air stung every piece of her body inside and out, caressing her with icy nails.
Slowly her mind was coming to, the cold sobering her up, but when someone took her wrists and another took her by the ankles, setting her flying, it was the frozen surface of the lake she cracked through that awoke her completely.
Y/E/C eyes flew open, murky depths of the water greeting her while every nerve and cell in her got shocked. Instinct told her to swim up, get a breath, and get out of the water before it pulled her under, but with the mightiness of a Norse goddess, Y/N suppressed all that and allowed the lake to gently pull her down, and her mind finally started to understand what’d happened.
They thought she was dead and decided to throw her body in some lake, probably hoping it would freeze over before she floated to the top and would remain that way until the very spring, prolonging the pain for her family.
The thought of her family grieving her was the only thing keeping Y/N from not trashing below the still surface. Instead, she slowly slipped her arms out from the coat and let it move to the top, while she sunk lower and lower.
Soon enough her feet touched the slimy earth below, which is when she once more opened her eyes and glanced up. There wasn’t really anything to see, apart from the light of the moon streaming in through the broken place where her body had been thrown and two retreating headlights.
Y/N waited two more seconds her whole being in shock and begging to get out and away from the cold when she pushed upwards and broke the surface. She gulped the air down in greedy takes, not caring about her split neck or the trembling of her body - at that moment all she cared for was air.
Her teeth were chattering so hard she pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, afraid it might get caught between them and she’d bite it off. Swishing her head around, she looked if the ice had broken anywhere else. Out. She needed to get out. And to whatever god had taken pity on her after everything, underneath a small makeshift pier where kids would come and fish, the ice had cracked right to the very edge.
She knew every second spent in the water was a second closer to hypothermia, so as quick as her frozen limbs would allow, she swam to the land. It was a hand’s stretch away when another pair of headlights came into view. Y/N cursed and instead of getting out of the lake, she ducked underneath the wooden planks, pressing a palm to her mouth, so whoever it was wouldn’t notice the air steaming up in the air from her mouth.
Her ears were ringing, so Y/N couldn’t hear whatever the men were talking about, only see how they fished out her coat and took it with them. They left another minute later, and she swore at whoever it was for costing it to her. Home. She needed to get home and fast, but she couldn’t be seen, couldn’t let Changretta know he’d half-assed her murder and she’d survived. He wouldn’t do so again, so Y/N waited another bone-chilling minute, checking if any car passed by again.
And then she got out, her dress clinging to her body, hair against her face, matted with seaweeds and blood, one heel of her boot snapped off – a wraith come to life and ready to haunt.
The first step was agonising, and Y/N collapsed underneath her weight, needles piercing her feet. Her knees bruised and scraped raw against the stony earth as did her hands, but she welcomed the pain, let it ground her, and used it to remind herself – pain meant she was alive. No pain would be the real problem.
Y/N wrapped her hands around her body, digging her nails into her biceps, each step an arduous labour. Small pebbles cut the soles of her feet; she’d lost her shoes somewhere along the way; her bones ached from the very inside and each breath was a task, the wound in her neck, although scabbed over, split with every small movement, small streams of blood trickling down and staining her white dress.
Lights were visible in the distance, even as her vision blurred more and more, the small bright dots becoming stretched-out beams before everything tilted and she was staring up at the sky.
The stars were magnificent, she thought. You couldn’t really see them shine like that in the city. Even with Arrow House being further away from the centre, the beauty of it didn’t compare to that of the open field.
Her mind went back to Tommy, to how they met, how they used to bicker about every single thing and to that first morning she’d woken up beside him and instead of finding his pillow cold, a strong arm had been wrapped around the middle, his nose hidden in her hair.
Neither mentioned it a few hours later at breakfast, but it’d been the day things slowly had started to shift. Then she’d gotten shot, and the switch had completely been flipped. All those glances they’d shared, the soft smiles and tiny touches were no longer hidden, but out on full display. His hand now always gravitated to touch any part of her, they fell asleep facing one another, most times Y/N using Tommy’s chest as a pillow. And then someone else came along and used his chest as a pillow, his heartbeat as a lullaby and his eyes as the ocean to pull them in and never let go.
She’d been scared to become a mom, but even with that, she’d never seen Tommy so absolutely terrified. When Y/N had gone into labour, she thought he would pass out, but he swallowed the fear and stayed with her. Despite Ada being adamantly against a man being present during “women’s business”, she’d threatened to break her neck if she so much as looked at Tommy, Polly snorting beside her.
“He put me in this position, and by God, he will be here,” Y/N had sneered at her sister-in-law before a contraption rippled through her body and she almost crushed her husband’s hand.
But then the pain went away and a small wriggling person was placed on her chest. She’d never seen Tommy fully break down before that.
“Huh,” Ada had shrugged. “So he does have a heart.”
She’d promptly received a smack from Polly and Y/N for that comment, but Tommy had chuckled.
“No, I don’t.” He’d leaned in and pressed a kiss to his wife’s temple. “These two stole it a long time ago.”
After that day, it wasn’t uncommon to find Tommy either in his office or even in their bed with Sadie sound asleep on his chest. She just about melted each time.
But now all that stared back at her was the cloudless winter sky. Y/N wanted to sob at the thought she’d never see Tommy’s blue eyes anymore or fix the way Sadie’s curls framed her face, but every little movement was agonising, so she just laid there, staring at the cosmos and waiting for that black void to get her.
***
When Y/N came to she was confused as to why there was so much yelling when being dead, why her head was pounding and her body was racked by violent shivers.
“You undressed my fucking wife!” A deep voice boomed from somewhere very far away it seemed while at the same time, the noise echoed in her skull, rattling her brain.
“Oh, would you have liked me to have left her in that frozen fucking dress?” A deep, gruff one replied. “She was already hypothermic, but by all means, you’d rather no one saw her in her knickers than be alive.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Solomons!”
That name being said snapped her eyes open, which was a big fucking mistake, as even the warm light from a candle by the bed and from the fireplace was enough to make Y/N feel like she was looking directly at the sun and burning her retinas.
Another horrible shiver went through her frame, her teeth chattering nonstop. Pins and needles were running all over her skin and Y/N curled up in a ball as if trying to not let any of the heat she’d managed to get back escape, but that only made her feel more pain, a groan escaping her mouth. That small noise was enough though for the door to be busted open and for two men – one lean and tall, the other a burly, beard-covered menace to rush inside.
Tommy was by her in an instant, a careful palm placed on her cheek.
“Don’t try to talk,” his own voice was that of a whisper. “The wound’s pretty rough.”
If it didn’t feel like it’d hurt like hell, Y/N would’ve just rolled her eyes, but all she could do was squeeze them shut as shivers went through her body. When Tommy saw that, he was instantly on his feet, going for the fireplace and adding more logs to the dwindling flames.
When he turned around, Y/N had slid her shaking hand from underneath the duvet and extended it to him, a silent plea for him to come back.
It didn’t take much more than that for Tommy to take off his jacket and suit, not caring about the company in the room, his trousers following until he was in his breeches, sliding into the bed, wrapping her frozen body with his own warmth.
A groan escaped her mouth, as she clung to him, Tommy releasing a string of expletives when sensing just how cold Y/N actually was.
“Bloody hell, woman,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead and tucking her face into the crook of his neck.
Gently, he intertwined her legs with his, and his fingers went to card through her matted strands, the motion more so calming him down, than her.
He’d put their daughter in bed after calling for Polly to come, with the thought Y/N was dead, his whole being a numb void. He’d thought the only time he’d ever get to see her again was after her body was found, that was if it’d be in a recognisable condition, so he’d take her frozen feet against his calves, her cold lips against his chest and stiff fingers digging painfully in his sides, as long as it meant she was alive.
At some point, after Alfie and Tommy exchanged words, Solomons left, and they spent the whole night and early morning like that, tangled in one another until Y/N was no longer cold or more appropriately would snap her tongue off if she so much as opened her mouth. She still couldn’t speak despite how Alfie had cleaned and stitched the wound in her neck, but she could write.
Alfie had brought a pen and paper upon Tommy’s request so they could communicate and the first and only word she scribbled was “home”.
“We’ll go home soon,” Tommy promised. “Arthur’s just… taking care of a few things.”
To that Y/N just nodded; she didn’t need any more explanations.
She took the pencil again and flipped to a new page. “Alfie has shitty sheets.”
Tommy chuckled, tightening the grip he had around Y/N’s waist. “He does, doesn’t he? You’d think the fucker could afford silk by now. Did he even change them before he put you in the bed?”
She just smiled and nuzzled closer to Tommy pressing her no longer cold nose to his chest and breathing in his scent, as he cradled her nape.
Y/N could hear the rapid thuds of his heart. When he'd first joined her in the bed, it'd been racing like one of his horses, stuttering and trying to find a beat, but now it was a steady song, matching her own.
No longer were they afraid.
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstranger
Thomas Shelby tags: @datewithgianni @captivatedbycillianmurphy @screemqueen @mrsmalfoyshelby @theamuz @lyarr24
A/N: sooo, it's been a while, hasn't it? Just wanted to drop something for the upcoming Valentines :)
P.S. hope you liked this :)
P.S.S. please don’t plagiarise my work and repost it/ translate it on other platforms (wattpad etc). re-blogs are very welcome
#Peaky Blinders#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#Tommy Shelby#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby angst#cillian murphy#cillian x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy x you#cillian murphy angst#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby angst#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x y/n
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Debt Paid (Thomas Shelby Blurb)
Warning: Non-Con, Virginity Loss, CNC
It was a Friday afternoon when you were sent to Thomas Shelby's office in Birmingham and you felt like lamb led to the slaughter, ready to be devoured whole. Your father's debts had piled up high – so high it blackened your mother's delicate complexion and buried your little brother's innocence from a pauper's upbringing.
You had to settle these debts with nothing less than your innocence and purity. That is why you stood at the threshold of Thomas Shelby's office, your whole being shivering, your lungs collecting dust instead of air.
You could see that Shelby's office exuded rich mahogany furniture, intricately crafted wooden carvings on the walls, and large floor-to-ceiling windows offering views of Peaky Blinders territories below. Yet, despite the grandeur, it reeked of death and decay. Much like Shelby himself.
You stepped inside, softly like a cat, skulking into his presence.
Shelby looked up from the ledgers he was looking over, his dark hair falling into his piercing eyes. He was an intimidating sight, with a muscular frame and an air of authority that surrounded him like a cloak. You felt yourself shrinking before him, wishing you could be swallowed up by the large Turkish rug beneath your feet.
"You are quite a picture of innocence, eh" he said almost aggressively, causing you to shiver. "Come closer, Love," he ordered and you didn't move at first, rooted to the spot by fear and disgust.
"Please sir , I beg you not to do this. I will find another way, I promise." You said tearfully, uncertainty painted all over your face.
He didn't reply but rose from his seat, and you stumbled backward, trying to put distance between the two of you. But he moved swiftly, with a predator's grace, closing the space with each step.
He closed the door behind him and locked it, the metallic clatter of the key echoing in the silence that followed. Your heart hammered, fear gathering in your chest.
"I'm sorry," you murmured, squeezing your eyes shut as you walked towards his desk, shivering quietly.
"Don't be sorry," he murmured back, so close behind you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. You felt his hand on your shoulder, turning you around. You opened your eyes and looked up at him, terror written all over your face.
"Now, I don't have all day, so I need you to be a good girl and bend over my desk," Thomas Shelby ordered you , his voice cold and detached. The room spun around you as his powerful hands spun you roughly around. The air smelled of cigar smoke, whiskey, and beneath that, something you couldn't quite put your finger on—submission.
Thomas Shelby's office made you shudder, with its rich mahogany outfitting and the countless rows of books lining every available wall space. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the sprawling, prevailing Birmingham cityscape. It rendered you powerless beneath his iron grip, more vulnerable than ever.
"Please Mr Shelby. I don't - ," you whimpered, your voice wavering in desperation, but you were cut off by the gangster's hands who pushed you down against his Mahagony table.
"Sshh, quiet now," Shelby muttered darkly into your ear as he pushed you down, making you bend over against his desk. "Stay nice and still for me, Love."
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you began as you nodded in defeat while the much older man lifted up your skirt.
His calloused hands yanked your panties down your legs like a man possessed, causing you to wince in pain. His fingers found their way to your aching virgin hole causing you to stiffen and squirm beneath him. The sensation was foreign, as he slowly pushed his index finger into your dry hole.
"Fuck, Love. Your hole is so small," Thomas Shelby sneered as he continued to force his finger into you, drawing blood. The smell of iron filled the room, but he didn't seem to care. His grasp tightened around your wrists, making you gasp at the pain.
A wave of disgust and shame washed over you as he pulled his finger out and wiped it on his handkerchief, before placing same on his desk. The white fabric was stained with blood — your blood.
You then heard the man undo his belt , followed by the loud sound of his zipper leaving you trembling as you waited for him to assault you. The clicking sound of his belt was oddly loud in your ears, and every second seemed to stretch on forever. The thought of what Shelby was about to do to you made you queasy, and the entire situation started to feel surreal.
He grabbed one of your thighs and pulled it towards him, taking his place between your legs. Thomas Shelby's erect manhood touched your behind, feeling hot and smooth against your porcelain skin.
"You know, I've been wanting to fuck you since the moment I laid eyes on you," Thomas Shelby growled before placing a hand on your cheek.
He then licked his fingers and slowly rubbed them against your dry pussy lips, wetting your hole with his spit.
"Good girl. Nice and quiet now ," Thomas Shelby whispered gruffly, positioning himself behind you and aligning his manhood with your tight entrance. "This might sting a little," he warned as his coarse, raw length poked delicately against you, teasingly. Your heart pounded in your ears as he began to apply pressure, pushing inside your dry hole without an inch of yourself prepared.
A sharp, painful intake of breath escaped your lips as Thomas Shelby finally entered you with a steady thrust. Your inner walls stretched wider than ever before as he drove himself deeper inside, your blood smeared on the tip of his shaft.
"That's it, Love. Fuck," he hissed, pulling back almost entirely and slamming harder into you. The sound of your bones meeting ripped through the room, obliterating any sensible thought. Every thrust was more excruciating than before.
Tears flowed freely from your eyes, staining the polished mahogany underneath you as you strained to break free, but Shelby kept you pinned in place, brutally pounding your aching, battered hole.
"You are so tight, Love. Bleeding all over my cock," Thomas Shelby groaned as he continued to ravage your inexperience.
With every piston-like drive, the pain intensified, yet your feminine core trooper on, responding to the intrusion with a rhythmic trembling.
And so it continued, Shelby plowing into your tightness like an untamed beast, indifferent to the silent wails you tried to silence. His crown hit your cervix with each thrust, making you feel like your insides were on fire, and your voice continued to grow louder, sobbing from the pain.
"Please, no more. It hurts, it hurts!" you cried, trying to escape the agony by inching away, but there was nowhere for you to go, caged and cornered by his overpowering presence.
"I am almost done Love!" He responded, like this was some sort of natural, everyday activity that you should be forced to put up with. Your pain seemed to excite him more, and his thrusting grew more vigorous and relentless. You were just a body to him, a hole to fill, a source of pleasure.
"Just hold still for me now so that I can fill you up with my cum, sweetheart," Thomas Shelby commanded hoarsely, his grunts and moans reaching a frenzied pitch.
He took his time, savoring the sensation of your hot, wet pussy gripping him tightly. He closed his eyes and groaned, shuddering as he felt himself getting closer to reaching his orgasm.
"Fuck , yes, Love. I'm almost there. You're so fucking good," Thomas Shelby muttered through his gritted teeth, gripping your hips even tighter as, finally, he stilled.
He let out a low groan and you could feel the warm rush of his release as he filled you up, each spurt of his cum igniting another gasp of pain from you. He stayed there, buried deep inside you, as he caught his breath, before slowly pulling out.
You felt the mix of your blood and his cum drip down your thighs, leaving an undeniable mess on his expensive rug. Shelby stepped back, allowing you to stand up, wobbling on your feet.
He then handed you his handkerchief and ordered you to 'clean up'. Numbly, you followed his instructions, your hands trembling as they tried to remove every stitch of him from your body.
"Good girl ," Thomas Shelby commented, walking casually back to his desk and, after you finished cleaning yourself up, Shelby dismissed you with a flick of his wrist. "See yourself out," was all he said, as he returned to his papers, the loss of his attention sending you stumbling back to reality. Physically broken and emotionally decimated, the door slammed abruptly shut behind you.
#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#oppenheimer#thomas shelby imagine#cilliean murphy smut#cillian murphy#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby
108 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi! So if it was okay, could I request an nsfw Tommy Shelby fic with y/n where pretty much it's that time of month and she's hit peak ovulation point so her sex drive it like, out of the roof??? so she goes to seek her husband for some relief but Tommy is in a really important meeting.
This has a lot of creative freedom so feel free to go down a a path you feel is write for this fic! As long as it's pretty smutty!
Thank you!!~ ♡
Hello! Thank you so much for the request, darling 🫶🏻💋 I really love the idea, thank YOU.
Husband's duty
◇ Pairing: Thomas Shelby X wife!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, roughness, marriage, breeding kink, creampie, kind of mean Tommy (?), mention of whores
◇ Summary: Y/n is on her fertile period and she is aching for her husband.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.
Thomas Shelby sat in his study, his gaze fixed on his brothers, Arthur and John, as he explained and analyzed that current situation and the possible threat that felt so close.
The handsome man was busy thinking as Arthur was talking when they heard a soft knock at the door of the room— he didn't even had the time to reply allowing the person to come in or just ask who it was because they just walked in, closing slowly and carefully the door behind them.
His piercing blue eyes stared softly at his wife who approched him in a shy way, a smile started to creep on his face
"Hm? What is it love?" He asked in a low tone as he lighted a cigarette, waiting for her reply that didn't came yet.
She just moved behind his desk-chair to wrap her arms around his thin ways, her face hidden in the crook of his neck as she breathed his scent in
"I’m busy love, in the middle of a meeting, yer knew that" Tommy murmured slightly annoyed by the interruption but not that bothered to stop his speech
"We’re gonna hit ‘em hard in the middle of the night, and show them that the Peaky fookin Blinders—" he stopped mid sentence when his wife nibbled at his sweet spot which was on his neck.
Y/n was really testing his patience now and she knew it but the need she was feeling in that moment made her rational thoughts leave completely.
"Love… I have important things I have to handle" Tommy warned her, not wanting to push her out himself; he was about to add another thing but got shushed by her sweet voice— Y/n was just whispering so John and Arthur could really hear what she was telling Tommy in his ear, luckily.
"I need you, Tommy"
Those 3 words followed by a pet name caught Tommy's attention, his gaze raised and darkened softly at the thought. He leaned back in his chair, and he stared into her eyes for a couple of seconds as if he had to reflect on what she had communicated to him
"And what do you need, eh?" He asked in a low voice, watching her with his icy blue eyes almost in a mocking way, thing that made her shy away a bit.
Y/n was clearly embarassed to share her needs with her brothers-in-law as well, she liked to keep her and Tommy's intimacy as private as possible, but deep down she knew that if she wanted something from her husband, in that moment, she should have asked like a good girl.
The realization didn't stop her face from heating up as she searched for the correct words to say it out loud but still with a shy voice— she turned more red when Tommy earged her to speak
"Come on, luv. Just say it" his tone was stern and she could feel his and his brothers' eyes on her
"I need....your husband's duty" she quickly said, nibbling on her bottom lip in a nervous and embarassed way while waiting for his answer.
Tommy's gaze remained on her, silence surrounded them before he interrupted it with his low bed voice
"Yer mean you’re in the mood, love? Is it time for your husband’s duty?" He repeated what she said with a teasing grin on his face, mocking her as he listened to her "excuse"
"It's that time of the period—" you quickly shared, watching him humming as he nodded slowly while he lighted a cigarette, taking a deep drag.
The mischievous grin not leaving his handsome face
"That time of the month, love?" he leaned closer and whispered "You mean the time where you act like a fucking whore around me?" He asked mockingly, hiding his excitement in front of his brothers that were still watching them— Y/n's eyes were on them as well as she apologized with her eyes before listening and looking back at her husband
"Come on love, let’s get outta here— give me a couple of minutes" he kind of ordered before leaving his office to head to the nearest room with you.
As soon as Y/n entered the room, Tommy locked it in a quick motion, he grabbed her roughly by the hair to pull her against his chest "what were you thinking, huh?" He growled in his wife's ear as his hips grinded against the curves of her ass.
She could feel his anger but by the hard rock boner that was pressed between her ass cheeks— she could also feel his lust.
His calloused hand pushed her down on the nearest surface, making her bend down at the perfect height for him to continue; Tommy moved up the skirt of Y/n's dress before harshly pulling her panties aside to shove his index finger in her wet hole, earning that way a loud whine from her.
He got her ready, getting her all wet so that his aching cock would be able to slip inside with ease— Tommy knew perfectly how the sex was during that period of the month of her wife where she reached the peak of ovulation, making her become a slut for his cock.
She would do anything for him and would let him do anything to her as long as he satisfied her.
That was actually the main reason because Tommy loved that period, her wetness always allowed him to snap his hips roughly, almost drilling inside of her as he fucked her as if he didn't loved her— as if she was just one of his former whores— even though his mouth kept whispering soft sweet praises and mocking comments.
His hips snapped against the skin of her ass, his cock kept moving in and out of her tight soaked pussy, causing Y/n to moan pornographically his name— her eyes rolled back, her head dropped on her arms and hands, which were holding into the surface for dear life.
Her mind was fucked by the rough treatment of her husband, she stopped understanding the things he was whispering against her skin while he breathed heavily without catching a break from his pace since he was reaching his peak as well.
A couple of thrusts and Tommy groaned louder, biting her shoulder as he increased the pace even if it started to become messier
"I'm so close— fuckk, yer so tight, luv" he preased sweetly, thrusting deeper than ever before stopping suddenly "Fuckin' filling yer with my seed" he declared, not leaving Y/n time to realize what he said since he shoot his load deep inside of her, filling her up with his cum as he pumped his softening cock inside of her hole— almost as if he wanted to make sure that all of his seed remained inside her in order to get her pregnant.
Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fic#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#peaky blinder fanfic
741 notes
·
View notes
Note
Alfie noticing that guys who are way younger than him (like Michael? John?) having a thing for reader, who is close to age to these young gentlemen but has only eyes for ol' man Alfie? Thoughts?
Near Deadly Sin
Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; fluff
AN: IM BAAAAACCCCKKK hello my loves it’s taking me forever to write again but I’m glad to be back. I miss you all and hope you all are doing well!!! MUAH - Mo
No. No this acidic flame burning between his ribs is not jealousy.
Not at all.
The embers stoked in his chest. The flames licking up his neck and around his ears. These are normal… manly… sensible reactions.
Alfie had been invited for ‘drinks’ with the Shelbys. He had refused adamantly, and was only coerced upon your promise to accompany him and to never. leave. his. sight. As if you would ever be far from him or out of his thunderous gaze. But as he is sitting across from Thomas and Arthur and Polly, he is regretting ever bringing you near this nonsense. This den of wolves and snakes. The murmurs of Thomas faded like the crackle of a radio as he focused in on John Shelby’s lustful gaze over you. With every sweep of his young and unbridled eyes and suck of his teeth, Alfie became more and more enraged. Not that you noticed. You didn’t notice John’s roving eyes or the quickening pulse of your husband next to you. You were content sipping the tea Polly served, making quiet conversation with Ada in the corner, holding a babbling Karl.
Alfie knew there was supposed to be a deal or something tonight. Or maybe an update on a job. Or something. It didn’t matter. Fuck the business. Fuck the Shelbys. Fuck John Shelby. Fuck it all. Standing quickly, pushing through the screaming pain of his back, Alfie grunts, “Darling get your coat. We’re done here.”
Your head spun, “Meyn Likht?”
“Up. Coat. Now. Cyril needs us.”
You press your lips in a firm line. Holding back your tongue from lashing at him for his impromptu exit. You knew what he actually meant. Thinking of Cyril was his code for indicating murderous intent that needed to be snuffed out immediately. You watch Alfie as you slip on your coat, going to Thomas to whisper something just out of your reach. Had you heard him, you would have heard the volcanic timber of his voice promise, “You control that little brother of yours Tommy yeah? It’s against holy law to look at another man’s wife like he been doing. Will have to go back to Mosaic law if he don’t shape up.”
With heavy stomps he approaches John, who is trying yet failing to keep a stone expression. “You keep them eyes to yourself little boy. Or someone may just take ‘em from you.”
“Darling? Cyril needs to be let out and will not wait for you!”
With a firm pat on the cheek Alfie turned away, gripping your waist firmly, hand as hot as a brand on the skin under your dress.
-
It’s late now, Alfie is fuming under the crisp sheets and thick quilts layered living on the soft bed. He’s pretending to read. Putting on his glasses and taking them back off again to stare at the ceiling. You emerge from the bathroom, face flush from the hot water, and hair pulled away from your bare shoulders. Arms crossed across your chest, you sit on Alfie’s side of the bed, “You want to talk about it like a grown up now?”
He huffs and shifts lower into the bed, as if to hide from you. With a shrug you walk back to your side, shuffling your sock feet across. You crawl back in bed, back to Alfie to let him fume. It was better than fighting with him to get him to share his feelings.
“He was looking at you.”
“Well Karl is a baby darling.”
“Not Karl! John fucking Shelby! Little bastard was undressing you with his eyes! And you said nothing!”
Ah… there it was.
You let yourself sit up to look at your husband’s face. Folded up into himself, glasses precariously balanced on his nose, cheeks ruddy from rage. Jealousy was his greatest sin and vice. Bigger than rage. Bigger than his love of rum. He was an only child and as such he grew into a man who did not like to share. Not even your image. You curled up next to him, like a cat preening for attention. “Meyn Likht… I didn’t even see him. You shouldn’t be jealous of a figure of vapor.”
“What you don’t notice the… the young men just staring at you? Gapped mouths like dead fish?”
“Those children?” You hum, gently kissing his scruffy jaw and temple.
“Those… men closer in age… to you.”
With that you crawl into his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Darling… what could I do with those men? I’d break them.”
“Break them?” He chuckles, gripping you tighter.
“They’re too soft. Too pretty. No. I like my men… rougher… more sturdy… someone who can stand strong and not worry about their pretty face getting dirty. I like my old man.”
“Do you now?”
“Love him even. Deliriously in love with him. Couldn’t live without him.”
Before you could take another breath, he was on you, kissing all over your face, tickling you with his rough beard and mustache. “Good Lord woman you make me feel 20 again.”
#alfie solomons#alfie solomons x reader#alfie solomons x you#alfie solomons fanfic#alfie solomons x y/n#peaky blinder fanfic
418 notes
·
View notes
Text
Midnight Interlude
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Wife Reader
Summary: You try to convince Tommy, your husband, to come back to sleep.
ao3 link
-
You awoke quietly in the middle of the night, feeling the weight of your slumber resting beneath your eyes. Too tired to lift your eyelids, you shifted in the bed, searching for the comforting cradle of your husband’s arms, only to find the space beside you cold and empty.
Weakly, you opened your eyes to the dark bedroom. Blinking sleepily, you waited for your senses to adjust while attempting to recall if Tommy had mentioned anything about going on a business trip. Your head ached. Where was that Tommy of yours? You weren’t even able to think because your brain was still buzzing from a peculiar dream. Regardless, you were freezing, and without Tommy to keep you warm, you wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. You cursed, pressing a cold hand to your flushed head. Your nose squirmed at the bitter air.
You weren’t sure how many sleepless nights you could endure without your husband. Lately, he had been going on more business trips than usual and staying up late in his office. You went to sleep before him, and by the time you woke up, he was usually already going about his morning. It was if you married a ghost.
The sheets rustled when you swung your feet to the floor. You stretched your arms awake and rolled your neck to the side, receiving a satisfactory pop in return. Wrapping a silk night gown around your body, you left the bedroom, stifling a yawn as you reached his office, where you heard the cackling of candles and the amber hum peeking through from the crack beneath the door. You twisted the nob slowly, careful not to startle Tommy, and entered the room.
“Tommy? You’re still up," you croaked, rubbing at your tired eyes.
Your toes curled as a shiver passed through your body. The wooden floors of your husband’s office were always deathly cold. And where was that ambitious old soul of his? Hunched over his messy desk, squinting through his glasses as he appeared to be reading over a letter. His marble contours were more sunken each night. His thumbs twitched and fiddled with a fountain pen as if they couldn’t bear to do anything but work. The top buttons of his white blouse (that you were always sure to iron the night before) pealed back to reveal a sliver of skin that you would stare at some nights to ensure he didn’t die working himself to death.
You loved him. God, you loved him. You loved him in a way that certainly would disgust the wives from the country houses down the lane. They loved their husbands in a plain and simple way. Margaret had gushed to you about her marriage and how she had fallen into a timely routine with her husband, dancing around the clock until they fell asleep on a wonderfully fluffy mattress. You stuck your tongue in your cheek. That wasn’t love; that was what men told women love was—a choreographed routine. Tommy was different. He loved you hard. Not just because he was a man and that’s what men were supposed to do, but because he lived and breathed everything he did, even if it killed him.
“I need to write something down." Tommy cleared his throat, too distracted to look up from the letter.
If you were any other woman, you would mistake his tone for annoyance. Not you. The hollow under his eyes spoke for him. Your poor husband never knew when to rest. Even when the moonlight poured in from the window and his hands were stained with ink, that mind of his clicked away into a world only accessible to him. It must be a burden, you think, to have the intellect Tommy had—to be three steps in front of everyone else. Talking to the ladies at the country club exhausted you sometimes because all they seemed to care about was the latest silks and décor from an exotic country or babies with chubby cheeks. It had to feel something like that, like sugar rotting your teeth.
“You’ll have time in the morning,” you insisted, leaning against the doorframe and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
The candlelight began to flicker as it neared the end of its wick.
Tommy wet his lips. “I have an early meeting out of town.”
Your shoulders fell. You knew who Tommy was and the priorities he had to balance. His work was important to him, and he did it for his family. That included you, too. But at hours like these, when your nightgown wasn’t enough to keep you warm, you craved the comfort of his arms.
“Come back to sleep,” you whispered, crossing the threshold of the office to stand behind him, where he was hunched over on his chair, writing something down.
Tommy relaxed as you began to massage his shoulders. Those eyes that painted you blue on winter nights fell closed for a moment. His hand itched for his whiskey, resting on the icy glass but never raising it to his lips. Several cigarette butts were discarded on his ash tray, some still puffing smoke. He smelled like a mixture of the two. You remember when you were younger how your nose would scrunch up at the scent of his cigarettes. Now, it was oddly comforting.
“I need to finish writing this letter,” Tommy drawled, reaching for the cigarette case that was buried under a file of papers.
As he pinched one out, you grabbed the match box that had been sitting on the windowsill and struck a match to light it as he perched it between his lips. When the end of it lit up, Tommy took a deep drag.
“You’re a man, Tommy, not a god. You need sleep,” you sighed, squeezing his tensed shoulders.
“Not yet." Smoke escaped his mouth in light puffs as he spoke.
You blinked slowly. “Well, I’m going back to sleep.” It was a half-truth. You were never able to fall asleep after waking up in the middle of the night, especially without Tommy by your side.
Tommy’s rough palm covered your hand, which was resting on his shoulder. He cleared his throat.
“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone.”
That was never true. Every time Tommy was gone, the room stank of it. His presence consumed Arrow House; it was as if the walls were made from his flesh and bone. And when he was away, it felt like you were living in a stranger’s home. The paintings on the wall were of a random family, and his office sat as if it were abandoned in a hurry. It was only when he returned that the colors bled back into the walls and you realized you were home.
You leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on his sharp jaw. He inhaled sharply through his nose. You noticed his attention had drifted from the letter and was now focused on the chandelier.
“Where’s that husband of mine? Hm?”
Tommy continued to take large drags from the cigarette while the both of you bathed in the crackling of the dying candlelight. Eventually, it burned out, and Tommy tapped the butt of his cigarette into the ash tray before setting it down to lean back on his chair. Now dark, he let you slip your hand from beneath his as you straightened your back and ran your nails through his scalp.
He groaned deep and nasally, fluttering his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue wet his bottom lip, and when your pupils adjusted to the dark, you saw the cogs in his head shutting off.
“Come back to sleep.”
“Alright,” he nodded with a grunt.
Most women would have said it was a miracle, not your Tommy. There was no holy spirit that possessed him to say yes. He chose to do so on his own account.
You rode that thought with a smile, turning his head to the side so you could lay a kiss on his forehead.
God, you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.
He sighed deeply, blinking lazily at his hands, which rested on his knees, before standing up. Both Tommy and his chair groaned at the movement. You hushed him and walked him to your shared bedroom, hand in hand. There, you carefully unbuttoned his blouse and slid his suspenders down his broad shoulders. Slowly but surely, you undressed him while his tired eyes watched you.
When you were younger, those eyes terrified you the same way a duck feared a rifle. What you never saw was the love they held behind glaciers of blue. Tommy made sure you saw it ever since. The ink on his hands was dry by the time they came to cup your face. His affectionate touch made more than your heart throb, but the both of you were too exhausted to do anything about it.
You settled for a kiss that he pressed against your lips. It wasn’t passionate or hungry like it usually was, but tender and firm. You loved it all the same.
“I love you." His breath settled on your skin like a warm blanket.
You closed your eyes and leaned forward, letting Tommy carry the weight of your head between his hands. You hummed when he brushed his knuckles gingerly across your cheekbones.
“I love you, too. Now, let’s get to bed before the sun rises,” you smiled, blinking up at him.
He kissed the top of your head, winding his tired arms around your frame to hold you against his chest. He hummed agreeably into your hair, letting his eyes flutter shut. Your arms wrapped themselves around his waist as he held you. You treasured small, fleeting moments like this. It wasn’t often that Thomas Shelby left his boots on the office floor and melted into a puddle. You think that made it all the more special. Your Thomas Shelby, the decorated soldier, the family businessman, and the hardened gangster could step away and become your favorite thing—a loving husband.
By the time you had both settled into the bed, the sheets were still warm, and the moon was still out. Tommy was resting on his side, with his arm draped around your waist as he snored lightly into your neck. Outside the window, the wind howled and crashed against the pane like winter waves. You felt none of it. Tommy’s body acted as a heater, protecting you from the numbing chill that waited at the edge of the covers, threatening to nip at your skin. You smiled, nuzzling deeper into his embrace. Here in the cradle of his arms, nothing could touch you.
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#tommy shelby x you#thomas shelby x you#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#fluff#domestic fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Me or Her. || Thomas Shelby x f!Reader
Summary: All your life you’ve loved Tommy, and you finally thought he loved you too. But then, Grace came along and had to ruin everything.
(No hate to Grace. She slays. This is all just for story purposes)
Word Count: 2.5K
Tags: Angst + Fluff, unrequited love, jealousy, Smut. Dom!Tommy, Praise, dirty talk?, Grinding/Dry humping, Lowkey rough sex, loving tho, P in V sex, little bit of oral, lowkey desperate tommy and reader. No use of Y/N!!
A/N: Not proofread! Dont crucify me please…😰
“What is your god damn issue?” Tommy asked you, a frustrated expression on his face. You had run off during the large event the Peaky Blinders were currently hosting.
Ya see Tommy was your boyfriend, or something of the sort- as Tommy wasn’t the kind of guy you really would call a boyfriend. But none the less you were involved and had been for quite some time.
The way you felt about him was strong and undeniable. You had been in love with him for years, you never thought he felt the same. You felt even more sure of that when you saw him with Grace. You could tell clearly there was romance between them, a certain spark. It broke your heart but you would of course pretend to be happy for them.
But, after she had gone to New York you finally had your chance. After some time Tommy finally took some notice to you. It didn’t take too long for you two to start being…involved. Sleeping together, going to all the important events together, spending nights together at his place, the whole nine yards. Everything couples would do.
But the night of this party, no different than the others, who would walk through the door? Grace.
your heart sinks as you see her walking into the party, dressed beautifully and looking around clearly searching for something- or someone.
You moved closer to Tommy’s side and grabbed onto his arm, staying almost attached to him. He didn’t mind of course, simply continuing on with his conversations and dealings.
Out of the corner of your eye you saw Grace coming over, in an attempt to make it clear what you and Tommy were you put your face in the crook of his neck, kissing him softly. He didn’t react but, you hadnt expected him too. That wasn’t the goal. The goal was to make Grace back off.
But, Grace came over anyway. Interjecting into Tommy’s conversation. The look on his face when he saw her shattered your heart. AJ mix of surprise and pleasure in seeing her. She asked to speak to him alone and he agreed, he told you to stay where you were and he would be back soon but you just couldn’t. As soon as he went to walk off with her you left the party, ran off to the room you were staying in to cry.
That’s how you got where you were now. Arguing with Tommy in the room that you so often shared.
“What is your god damn issue?” He was scowling at you as you looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness on your face. “My issue? Your the one who went off with that whore!” You snapped back at him, your voice breaking from your crying.
He scoffed, “is that really what this is about? I was just talking to her calm the fuck down.” He scolded, still clearly annoyed at your reaction.
You stood up and got closer to him, “Oh please Tommy, I’m not blind! I saw the way you looked at her when you saw her. So glad she was back from New York. I mean come on- I just….” You explained, trailing off at the end trying to find the words.
“You just what? Spit it out.” He said demanding, looking down at you as he stepped closer to you, you could feel his breathe on your face. “I just thought you loved ME, Tommy.” You said, coldly. “Bloody hell, your being ridiculous. I do!” He responded, turning around and putting some space between the two of you.
You stayed in your spot glaring at him, new tears pricking your eyes. “No you don’t. You love her. You always have and I should’ve opened my fucking eyes sooner! I should’ve known you would never love me like you love her!” You barked at him, those new hot tears now falling down your cheeks.
“I do! Just calm down and listen to me when I say that I do!” Tommy repeated, an evident tone of annoyance in his words. “Then say it.” You said, wiping the tears from your face.
He looked confused for a moment, “say what exactly?” He questioned honestly, but with his same strong and cold tone.
“Say that you love me. I know you’ve said it to her before so your bloody capable of it. So, if you really do love me, then SAY IT.” You demanded, sternly looking him right in the eyes. Most men you knew didn’t dare look at him in the eyes, but you weren’t scared of him. No matter what.
“Your being insane, I just said it!” He defended, his tone still cold but there was a clear look of searching in his eyes. Like he was struggling to find the right words to say, to find the right way to express what he wanted to. But his avoidance of doing what you asked was a very clear answer to you.
You kept your eyes glued to his and just shook your head disapprovingly, “Whatever Tommy. I can’t keep fucking doing this, I was gonna tell you to choose between me or her but it seems you already have.” The words were like venom leaving your lips. You turned to walk towards the door, your heels clacking on the floor with every step.
Before you could go the sound of Tommy’s voice registered in your mind. It was softer now and more sincere than before. “I love you.” he said, making you stop in your tracks but not yet turn to face him. “I love you so much and it scares the shit out of me.” He confessed.
You turned on your heels to face him, “what do you mean? Why does it scare you?” you asked sincerely, the look in your eyes softer now, and more sympathetic.
“After what happened with Grace? Why the hell wouldn’t I be frightened. I didn’t wanna put myself out there again just for ya to bloody leave as soon as things got good, or worse for you to be put in danger cause of me.” Tommy explained, looking away from your gaze.
He felt your soft hand on his cheek, his rough skin contrasting your own. He looked at you and quickly plunged his lips onto yours. You were a bit taken aback but quickly reciprocated.
The kiss was deep and passionate but also had an energy of desperation in it. Tommy wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, your body flush against his own.
It didn’t take long for the kiss to develope into his tongue exploring your mouth, heavy breathing and soft, muffled, moans filling the otherwise silent room. Tommy eventually grabbed you a bit roughly and pushed you down onto the bed, crawling over so he was hovering above you, doing his best not to break the kiss in the process.
Your hands found his hair and you pulled it softly, how you knew he liked, and he groaned softly into your mouth. He ground his hips against yours, his clothed crotch rubbing against yours, which was also still covered by your formal party wear.
Tommy continued to softly grind against you for a moment as the kiss continued hastily, before you pulled away to whine, “Tommy. Need you.” is all you could muster out, the feeling of desperation making you practically squirm beneath him.
He just nodded before sitting you up and pulling your dress up and over your head with ease. You felt the cold air hit your now almost bare upper body and you could feel your nipples harden under the fabric of your bra.
You felt his mouth attach to your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin softly as his hands snaked around your back and undid your bra quickly, it was pretty clear he was experienced with this but you tried to ignore that fact as it is kinda related to what started the argument to begin with.
His lips continued to kiss and nip at the skin of your neck, shoulders, and collarbone before you placed your hands on his chest and started gently tugging at his suit jacket, attempting to get it off. He chuckled and pulled away, quickly taking off his jacket as you worked to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t long before his top was also completely bare.
Tommy took this time to admire you, his eyes trailing down your neck and shoulders seeing the marks he left they would definitely be noticed tomorrow, and then to your breasts. He smiled a bit and kissed right above your chest before looking back up at you.
“s’beautiful” Tommy mumbled before putting his hand on your cheek and pulling you into another heated kiss. His other hand now groping your boob, causing you to moan into the kiss and grind your hips up into nothing.
He noticed your actions and chuckled, “someone’s needy.” He teased and you nodded quickly. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He whispered softly into your ear as he laid you back down on the bed, placing a pillow underneath your back to make you more comfortable.
His hands slid down your sides, eventually reaching your panties and pulling them down your legs. He leaned down and kissed your clit softly before licking a stripe up your cunt. “Fuckin’ delicious” he practically moaned before coming up and kissing you again so you could taste yourself on him.
your hands reached down and messed with the waistband of his pants making him chuckle once more, “So desperate, So needy, it’s adorable.” Tommy sweetly. “Just need you so bad Tommy. So pretty…want you.” You praised him as your hand cupped his cheek and you kissed his lips softly. “Please” you practically begged.
A smiled played on his lips as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “How can I say no to that beautiful face?” He whispered.
It wasn’t long at all before he had taken himself out of his boxers and was lining up with your entrance. He smiled down at you reassuringly “you ready love?” he asked, he would ask if you were ready when he was feeling extra loving, because he was generally quite large and he knew this- so he wanted to make sure. You simply nodded and this enabled him to slowly push inside of you.
The soft hiss that left your mouth soon turned into a pleasurable moan as he pushed inside of you until he was all the way in. He looked down at where you were connected and groaned, titling his head back. “Fuck baby. You take me so well.” He praised sweetly.
after just a moment of letting you adjust he started moving in and out. His pace started off slow, pulling out a bit and slowly easing back inside as far as he could go. But the pleasure was just so good as he slowly fucking into you, he needed more.
“So good f’me. Taking me nice and slow.” He praised once more. Starting to slowly pick up speed. You nodded, as any time you tried to speak the words became muffled by moans and whines.
“More..please.” You were able to mumble out, a whiney and desperate tone in your voice. Tommy groaned and bit his lip at hearing you beg for more of him like that. “If you insist sweetheart.” He responds rather quietly before picking up the pace.
He steadily builds up speed till he is at the point where he is quickly pulling all the way out just to thrust back into you as deep as he can before pulling out and doing it again and again. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your moans and mumbles and his quiet groans accompanying them.
You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, and he could too as your walls began to clench around him causing him to let out another moan. “Fuck.” he moaned under his breathe. “I’m close sweetheart.” Tommy said quickly, his hips still pistoning into you.
“Me too.” You moaned back, your head nodding feverishly. The feeling in your lower stomach was burning and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
What finally threw you over the edge was when his hand went down and found your clit, rubbing quickly circles onto it. The sensation of his rough calloused fingers on your sensitive clit, combined with him roughly fucking into you was enough to have you coming undone.
You squirmed beneath him as your walls clenched around him and you came while moaning his name loudly, causing him to let out another deep moan. “Fuck. Yes cum all over my cock. Good girl.” Tommy muttered as he kept pushing in and out of you. As you rode out of your high you grabbed his face in your hands, “cum inside. Please.” You asked him, a desperate look in your eyes.
This alone was enough to send him over the edge. He nodded as his hips stuttered and in just a few more thrusts he was filling you up, spilling his seed inside of you, this just caused another moan of his name to fall from your lips.
As he came you could hear him mumbling, “fuck. So good. Love you. Love you so much.” Where all the words falling from his beautiful mouth as he came inside of you.
You both took a moment to catch your breathes before he carefully slid out of you, causing an involuntary and sorta strange noise to leave you. He got up and kissed your forehead before grabbing a damp towel and using it to clean you off gently, dabbing your skin with the nice cool water.
After he finished cleaning you he climbed back in bed, still naked and pulled you into him. You snuggled close and rested your head on his chest. You two just sat there for a moment. Enjoying each other.
“I love you so much.” Were the words he said to break the silence. “And if it takes me never so much as looking at Grace again to make you happy then I will do it.” He promised, kissing the top of your head gently.
You leaned your head a bit and placed a soft kiss on his chest. “Thank you. I love you too.” You said dreamily, snuggling closer into him.
He wrapped both arms around you and held you close. You both had honestly forgotten about the party that was still going on downstairs. You couldn’t seem to care as you just held each other and enjoyed each other presence.
You fell asleep together that night, both naked and holding one another. The next morning when You and Tommy went to go get breakfast and were once again interrupted by Grace who attempted to speak him. Tommy just continued talking to you. He didn’t even look at her.
#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fucking blinders#smut#x reader#fem reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy
805 notes
·
View notes
Text
Time After Time | Masterlist
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character
Summary: You’ve been told by your mother since the moment you were born that you had the gift of prophecy. Convenient, since you managed to mysteriously transport back into time by one hundred years. What happens when you become wrapped up in the Shelby’s family business after the brothers return from the war? Will you ever get back to your own time or figure out how you got to Small Heath in 1918?
Rating: mature
ao3 Link
full author masterlist & credits/disclaimers here
Moodboard
Chapter One: Kashmir
Chapter Two: Magic Man
Chapter Three: Do I Wanna Know?
Chapter Four: Feeling This
Chapter Five: Broken Crown
Chapter Six: Dismantle. Repair.
Chapter Seven: Vagabond
Chapter Eight: Devil Inside Me
Chapter Nine: Dancing in the Moonlight
Chapter Ten: Curses
Chapter Eleven: Dazed & Confused
Chapter Twelve: Nobody Knows
Chapter Thirteen: Ghost
Chapter Fourteen: Raise Hell
Chapter Fifteen: Left Hand Free
Chapter Sixteen: Fear & Delight
Chapter Seventeen: Change on the Rise
Chapter Eighteen: Coming Soon
#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x oc#thomas shelby imagine#fanfic#mine#time after time
2K notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
guadachupetes-blog
Flashgirl
war64
𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 ⁶⁴ ˢᵠᵘᵃʳᵉˢ
louisthepatriot
Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.
contactani
Yogic Wellness Secrets
naturaloverflow
Natural Overflow