#peaky blinders tommy
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If Speaking is Silver, Then Listening is Gold
a Turkish proverb
prompt: ( requested ) you require a bit of reprieve after the week you had, and Tommy's a gentleman.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x hard of hearing female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 4.4k+
note: you hit me in the chest with this request. as someone who is hard of hearing (HoH) and progressively losing what they have left, this got personal.
warnings: author projects, mild angst, hurt and comfort, specified frustration, working with customers SUCK, mild violence, Tommy's a little OC 'cause he doesn't know what to do with emotion!
"Excuse me! God, the service here is terrible! Aren't you listening to me, barmaid!?" The woman with polished finger nails slammed her manicured hand to the bartop aggressively, glaring at you as if you had backhanded her mother.
The sudden slap made you jump slightly, turning your head to acknowledge her before deflecting, "In a moment, ma'am, I'm trying to listen to this man's order."
"I've been trying to get your attention for 10 minutes now!" She argued, the noise of the bar dialed up as the night droned on and the patrons drank more.
"And I'm busy assisting other customers, I'll get to you when it's your turn," you reminded her, blinking at the man in front of you. "I'm so sorry, sir, I, uh, what were you saying?"
He sighed, "You don't remember? Or didn't hear me?"
"I couldn't hear you over the woman yelling at me," you snipped, perking your brows. "Would you like to order or should I move onto another customer?"
He scoffed, "Just get me a fucking bourbon."
"One fucking bourbon comin' at'cha," you rolled your eyes as you turned from the people to grab the bottles of liquor lined up behind you. You poured the man his drink, set it in front of him, and pocketed the bill he slapped in front of you - not offering change as you instantly looked to another customer. He grumbled with displeasure, but you were asking the next person, "What can I get you?"
"Uh, no, I'm next, I've been waiting long enough," the woman with polished fingernails insisted, literally pushing the customer out of her way.
You sighed, "Know what? All right, fine, what can I get you, ma'am?"
At that moment, the doors swung open and a new wave of drunkards stumbled in; the bar roaring to greet the newcomers as the woman ordered her posh drink that had no business being ordered in The Garrison.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked, staring at her mouth in the hopes of reading her lips. She repeated her order, but her tacky lipstick made her lips stick - making it hard to read. "What? I'm sorry, ma'am, it's loud, you're gonna have to speak up."
"Are you fucking with me right now!?" She screeched, making your eyes widen. "You're the fucking deaf - you can't hear a simple order!?"
"I only asked you to repeat yourself," You defended.
"You asked me three times!" She raged.
"So tell me a fourth and shut the fuck up!"
"Hey, hey, hey," Harry stepped in, hand to your shoulder when the woman looked ready to launch over the bar, "I got this. I'll man the bar, you go on - there's some tables that need bussing."
You sighed and stepped back, nodding, "Sure, Harry."
You hated when he did this. Instead of defending you and your inability to hear - something you have no control over - he would always just push you aside and send you to do other chores. It wouldn't cost anything to tell the customers to calm down, it was loud in the pub and you had a hard time hearing as is - but nope! The customer was always right, or whatever bullshit he would remind you.
You were constantly accosted at work for your difficulty hearing clearly. It wasn't that you couldn't hear at all, it was just difficult! Sometimes, you could hear bits of their sentence and just inference whatever words you missed, but that wasn't an exact science. You mostly depended on reading people's lips, always hating asking anyone to repeat themselves; but at work, it wasn't always possible. The people you interacted with seemingly took personal offense that you had a hard time hearing, and each of them made their displeasure known. Again, a great time for Harry to defend you, but the older man didn't like rocking the boat.
You didn't necessarily blame him, knowing the Peaky Blinders kept a close eye on the pub and would probably reprimand (cut) Harry for discipling customers instead of firing you. So, you kept quiet about your displeasure over your treatment because you needed this job - you never wanted to give reason or thought that you were difficult. Maybe that was why Harry would send you off to do other chores, he didn't want you to lose your cool and this job. Though, some of these people deserved a good tongue lashing.
Picking up a spare pail, you went around to a few tables and cleared them of empty glasses before using a rag from your bucket to wipe them down for the next set of people.
Apparently, in that moment, someone decided to move past you, and to their credit, they did say, "Excuse me, luv, behind yah," but you didn't hear him. So, when you straightened up from cleaning the table, you took a natural step back and bumped into a body; gasping when something wet splashed over your neck, shoulders, and down your back and chest. "Oh, fuckin' hell, lass! Watch where yer fuckin' goin'!" The man raged, his empty glass shattered on the floor.
You blinked in shock.
"What? Didn't fuckin' hear me when I told yah I was there!?" The man continued to reprimand you. "Gotta fuckin' listen in a pub like this, lass, you'll cause worse fuckin' accidents!"
"I'm so sorry," you offered meekly, shaking the ale off your arms and glancing at your front to see it trickled in alcohol. You needed to take a deep, long breath before turning to head for the bar.
"What happened?" Harry asked when you arrived, looking mild concerned.
"Another spill," you spoke through a clenched jaw.
"Oi!" The man who dropped his drink all over you approached the bar, barking at Harry. "It's not our fault you hired some deaf bitch! That can't fuckin' hear 'round her! She didn't move from my way, I lost me pint 'cause of her stupidity!"
Stupid...? Did this drunk asshole just call you stupid because HE bumped into YOU and spilled HIS OWN drink?
Maybe the money you made at the bar wasn't worth this...
Harry had no issue giving the drunkard another pint of ale as you tried in vain to dry off, but your dress, hair, and skin was completely plastered in sticky alcohol. You felt your eyes burn with stress, wanting to burst into tears and sob your frustrations out, but you didn't have the strength to break down right now. That's how tired and upset you were - you didn't even have the energy to cry.
You went about your evening, bussing tables and avoiding whatever customers you could; keeping your head on a swivel to avoid any other accidents. You felt a little better, but the stress still lingered around the bar; feeling as if the customers were glaring at you no matter what you did. When a natural lull came, Harry let you back behind the bar with the promise of staying near in case you needed him, but you were ready to drop.
Your final straw was about an hour after the usual Peaky Blinders and Shelby brothers had come in for the nightly round(s) of whiskey. You smiled at Arthur when he approached the bar, all too happy to greet you loudly - the lad never having an issue with speaking up when you couldn't hear. Arthur was always happy to accommodate you, having a soft spot for you since his brother, Tommy, had made his interest in you known that past year.
Speaking of, Tommy Shelby, notorious gangster of Small Heath and the head huncho of the Peaky Blinders, entered after his brothers and made an instant approach. "Harry," he greeted when he stepped around the bar.
"Mr. Shelby," Harry nodded.
"Love," he acknowledged you, pecking your cheek sweetly. "All right?"
"Hmm?"
"Doin' all right?" He asked clearly, being similar to his brother and not minding speaking louder, slower, clearer, whatever you needed to hear him better. In fact, Tommy wasn't know for being patient, but with you, he'd repeat himself as many times as it took - but only for you.
"Oh, yeah," you sniffled, trying to hide your frustrations.
"Why's your dress wet?" He worried, petting a sticky lock of your hair back, his concern mounting.
You shrugged, "Bit of an accident, 's not a big deal."
"Someone run into you, again?"
You nodded, "It's fine, though. He got a new pint and calmed down."
Tommy shook his head, gritting, "Who?"
"Tommy."
"Tell me who, love."
"No, Tommy, it's fine," you insisted, petting your hand down his chest in a show of affection; seeing another customer approach the bar. "I'm sorry, I'm working, love, can we talk later?"
He nodded, pecked your temple, grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey and moved for the snug - where his brothers and Aunt Polly waited for him. You got back to work, and barely noticed the time ticking by... Until a new customer approached you with a sneer already marring his face.
"What can I get for you, sir?" You asked kindly, needing to raise your voice over the usual drunken yelling. So, you preemptively warned him, "Sorry, 's bit noisy tonight, you'll have to speak up."
The man ordered his drink clearly, but another few men in loosened slacks and disheveled button-ups stalked up to the bar; crowding around the other two men who stumbled over in obnoxious laughter. You felt your panic spike, already overwhelmed by them all trying to talk over one another.
You were bombarded with drink orders from them all, eyes flickering between them because you didn't know who to listen to first. You tried to get the drinks together at the same time, but in truth, it was overwhelming because the men changed their orders, but got mad at YOU when you didn't quite hear them clearly.
Their drunken words added to the bar's noise level sprinkled with you being hard-of-hearing just resulted in a cluster fuck. "This isn't what I fucking ordered!" The original man complained, glaring at you with distain. "It's really not that hard, girl, my God. If you can't get our drinks right, how you gonna make any man a decent wife? Gonna fuck up his dinners, too?"
"Jesus - I'm sorry, there's just a lot going on. Why don't you remind me your drink and I'll get it now," you offered as kindly as you could.
"I doubt you'll be able to get it right," he sneered, but you missed half his sentence.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!? Just fuckin' listen - it's not hard!" He snarled, literally chucking his glass just past your ear so it shattered into the liquor bottles behind you. "You can't even get a fucking drink right! Fuck you doin' workin' here, then!?"
This caused a huge commotion, obviously.
The Shelby's don't play games, you see, and the moment the glass shattered, they were moving out of the snug to investigate. When they realized someone had offered you disrespect, it was a shit show as the drunkards clashed with the men with razors stitched in their caps. Still in shock from the show of violence, you felt something in your heart snap you into motion.
So, you silently untied your apron, grabbed your coat and home keys, then literally walked out the backdoor - while the men all scuffled. The moment you stepped outside, you let your emotional dam give out - sobbing into the stinging cold air as you moved up the street.
You weren't sure what emotion you felt - be it anger, disappointment, shame, fear... Crippling insecurity. Once at the Irish pub, The Black Lion, you settled at the nearly empty bar and ordered your own drink, something you rarely did anymore. Something about working with alcohol all day made you less inclined to drink, but tonight was different than previous nights.
"All right, lass?" The bartender asked, pouring the whiskey in front of you. "Look a bit put out, huh?"
"Just a long week," you answered. He hummed, nodding and asking something. You felt tears in your eyes when you asked, "C-Could you repeat that?"
Louder, he repeated, "Anything you wanna talk about?"
"Oh, no, thank you," you waved off. "Just... Customers being unruly."
He laughed, "Oh, don't I know it. What happened?"
You shrugged, "Nothing important."
"C'mon, lass, if it's made you come inta a place like this, searching for a drink, it's probably important enough."
You sighed, "Honestly, I think I appreciate the silence."
He smirked, "I can respect that. Here," he poured you a new glass, "this one's on the house. I deal with unruly customers, too, so, I know you'll need this second one."
You chuckled and grinned broadly when he went to walk away, did a double take, then left the whiskey bottle to your side with a smirk. He moved off to sit at a different table with some other older men, leaving you alone for the first time in what felt like a long time. It felt ironic for a moment that you sought solitude and silence, but you just wanted time to digest all that happened tonight and move on.
Why couldn't people understand that despite you being a public servant, you were still a human being? A human with human emotions, human disability, who makes human mistakes. Yet according to those entitled pricks that think YOU work for THEM, you were a second class citizen who was underserving of empathy. How dare you ask them to repeat themselves! How dare you misunderstand their order - and quickly replace it! How dare you have a disability past your control that affects your day-to-day life!
There was a heavy, looming feeling of being inadequate.
Being alive was hard enough as it is, more so when a bodily function most others take for granted malfunctioned within you. It made life harder; you had to work harder than everyone else just to operate on their same level. However, if you dare show exhaustion, frustration, any degree of weakness, you were quick to be labeled as "lazy" or "entitled" or your favorite, "dramatic!"
Those people can hear pins drop, they couldn't ever fathom what this felt like. It wasn't that you couldn't hear, you could. It just wasn't on the level other's could heard at, and for whatever reason, it seemed to frustrate everyone else more than you. You were the one dealing with the predicament, and yet, everyone else was seemingly the most inconvenienced! They thought it mortally offensive to be served by someone "like you", thinking your disability was unacceptable in their proximity.
Fucking assholes.
If only they knew the way your stomach knotted itself every time you asked someone to repeat what they said. Every time you said, "Huh?" or "What was that? What did you say?"
You were embarrassed because it made you feel as if you couldn't even be a human "correctly", and it's not like you chose for this to happen! It's not like anyone chooses to make the obligation called life ten times harder by putting you at a functional disadvantage. You felt like "damaged goods" because you felt constantly out of the loop; missing a lot of what's said if you're not paying explicit attention.
However, years ago, you had perfected the ability to read lips. Yet this was difficult when most people you couldn't hear were your customers, majority of who are slurring their words. You worked in The Garrison, meaning that on any given night, there was loud discussions that added to your frustration - but the tips were too good to quit. So you endured. You felt pathetic and borderline like a failure if you quit any job; feeling as if your disability had won by emotionally crippling you. So, while it didn't make a lot of sense to work in a noisy place when you're already hard-of-hearing, you remained at your place of employment simply out of spite.
It was difficult reminding yourself it wasn't your fault, that you were still doing a great job - no matter how many customers catch attitudes, get snippy, or throw full-on adult tantrums. You despised needing to be the "bigger person", but figured nobody else would be willing to accommodate you, so, if you wanted a semblance of peace, you had to be the one to create it.
You reached for the bottle of whiskey after downing your second glass. With a harsh sniffle, you glanced around the pub and realized how many people had arrived to fill in the place. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, acutely aware that you were so deep in your emotional tarpit that you missed the noise rising.
So much for a quiet night.
You poured a new glass, praying to whatever God would listen that you're granted deliverance from this empty, helpless feeling that was pitting your stomach and chest.
After hearing the glass shatter, Tommy and his brothers were rocketing to their feet to investigate. They saw a man, red in the face, yelling hatefully at you behind the bar - liquor dripping off the shattered shelves from the man's bout of violence. There was no thinking for any of them. Tommy recognized you were in a predicament; striding forward first, and the chaos began.
It'd been a good bit since the lads had a good fist fight. No razors, no guns, no advantages - just bare fists and bar furniture.
It cleared the place out, and when the drunkard was hauled off by his companions, Tommy was wiping the blood from his knuckles. Harry frowned at the sight of blood splattered on the floor, shaking his head before calling your name - knowing you had some secret to getting blood out before it stained. However, there was no response. The Shelby boys all looked around expectantly, waiting for you to reappear, but it was evident by the way Harry searched for you that you weren't in the building.
Tommy placed a cigarette to his lips, just lighting it when Harry returned from the back room, informing, "Her belongin's are gone, she must've left early."
This made Tommy whip around sharply to use his own eyes and scan the room. "Nobody saw where she went? How was nobody watchin' her!?" Tommy asked demanded. There were several shakes of different heads, Tommy's anxiety flaring in his chest. He quickly rushed to grab his coat and flat cap, tugging them on in haste, hearing Arthur question where he was going. "Gotta find her," he explained through his panting-panic. "City's dangerous enough for people that can hear properly. God knows what can happen when she's alone at this time of night."
"We'll help," John offered, nudging Arthur, Finn, and their cousin, Michael Gray.
"I'll find her faster," Tommy answered, already out the door.
Michael shared a look around the room, wondering, "He acts like this all the time or just with that one pretty barmaid?"
Arthur smirked broadly, "That one pretty barmaid is Tommy's girl. Don't get caught lookin'."
"He's like this with just her," John chuckled, "always has been, always taking care of her the way she cares for him."
"What did Tommy mean? She can't hear?" Michael questioned innocently.
"Nah, girl's got some hearin', just not a whole lotta it," John explained as if common knowledge. "Never thought I'd see Tommy so patient, so fuckin' doting. He doesn't mind repeating himself if she asks, in fact, he does what he can to talk to her how she needs."
"What's that mean?"
"Like," John paused, sighing through his nose, "he'll face her directly, speak slower to let her read his lips. He speaks up, he's clearer, he wants her to feel like she's not a burden if she can't hear like us can so he does it all organically."
Michael smiled softly, vaguely impressed by Tommy's show of humanity. Speaking of, everyone's favorite gangster was prowling through Small Heath; stopping in each and every open business, searching for the familiar sight of you, and moving on when he was unsuccessful. You weren't at the Shelby home, nor your apartment, church, or anywhere along the Canal - places you frequent when overwhelmed.
Tommy was beginning to get cold, but he wouldn't say that. His determination would keep him warm, and even as the snow began to fall once more, Tommy hiked through the wind. Luck seemed to be on his side because when he entered the third pub, one he doesn't usually step foot in outside of evident emergencies, there you were; sat at the bar looking miserable.
"Thank God," Tommy breathed in relief, straightening his jacket and swiping his cap from his head. He approached your side and reached a hand out to the bartop in front of you, minimally startling you by announcing his presence without words. "Hey, love," he greeted you.
"What're you doing, Tommy? Blinders don't come 'round in here."
"We do when one of our own goes missing."
Your eyes rolled, "I'm not missing, I just needed a break."
"I know," he nodded, "but I'm here to make sure you get home safe."
"I don't need an escort."
"I don't think you do, but it's dangerous at night. You know I care about you and that includes your well-being."
"Oh, don't tell me, you're trying to play the gentleman card?" You scoffed, taking another swallow from your glass. "C'mon, sit down, I don't like drinking alone," you commented, "makes me sad, leaves me alone with my thoughts."
"We can drink at home, love."
"I don't want to go home yet."
"Why?"
"'Cause I'll have to explain why I got fired."
"You didn't."
"Huh!?" You yelped.
"You didn't lose your job," he assured softly.
"No?"
"No, not fired."
"Oh," you mulled over your thoughts, "that's good, then."
Tommy sighed and pulled his coat off to take the empty barstool beside you. "All right," he decided, going through the motions to stick a cigarette between his lips and light it. Smoke wafted from his mouth as he asked, "What happened tonight?"
"You already know, I'm sure."
"I want your truth."
"Doesn't matter," you refused, downing the last of the whiskey in your glass. You went to leave a few bills for your tab, but Tommy stopped you and covered it himself. Your eyes rolled and hand snatched the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey before heading for the exit.
Tommy followed not far behind.
"Love, c'mon, wait up," he grit, catching up to you and tossing his coat over your form, "you're gonna catch ill."
"I'm fine," your eyes rolled. Truthfully, the consumed whiskey in your system acted as an internal heating mechanism; warming your blood, wrapping you in a fuzzy grip.
"Talk to me," he pleaded.
"I just - I'm frustrated, okay?"
"Sure, all right," he agreed, "but why?"
"You don't get it, Tommy," you felt emotional, rounding on him with tears in your eyes. "You don't know what it's like, you can hear just fine, you can still see, you don't know what it's like to progressively lose one of your senses! The way people get angry for something I cannot dictate - it's like they're the one being vastly inconvenienced!"
Tommy nodded, just listening.
"And they crucify me for it!" You sniffled, feeling defeated. "Like I'm some pariah that will infect them with my loss of hearing. They treat me as if - as if I've asked for this, as if I'm doing it on purpose!"
"What would help?"
"Honestly? I don't know anymore, Tommy, but this town is seriously lacking in their ability to empathize. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do - I get so angry now. It happens more and more, people getting angry or frustrated at me 'cause I need them to repeat themselves. What am I supposed to do, huh?"
He smirked slightly, but the sight angered you.
"Oh, fuck off, Tommy!" You turned from him, moving back up the street. "I don't need to laugh at me like the rest of them - "
"I'm not!" Tommy insisted, reaching for your wrist to halt you, whip you around, face him again. Both his hands extended to hold the area above your elbow, speaking clearly, "Listen to me. I was going t'wait, but I think now's a good time."
"Good time for what, Tommy?" You growled, now just wanting to go to bed and hide from your emotions; hide from people; hide from reality.
"I have a new job for you, in the company," he smirked. "We're still getting things structured, but why don't you step away from the bar and come work for me now? Help us build what's left, and then transition into your company job?"
You paused, just staring at him in mild shock.
"You're kidding me, right?"
"Why would I joke?"
"You're... Offering me, what? Some job as your receptionist?"
"No, I was thinkin' something a little more paramount."
"Like what?"
"Like Chief of Operations?"
"COO?" You laughed, "For what company, Tommy?"
"Come home with me, we'll talk all about it," he bargained, "but if you accept, you've gotta quit The Garrison, love. We'll need your head in the game, no other distractions."
You felt something in your heart crack, asking, "What if you lot can't stand working with me, too?"
"Because of your hearing?"
"Or, you know, lack there of."
"Love," he smirked, "there's nothing you can do - intentionally or unintentionally - that would make any of us distance ourselves. If we get frustrated, it's not because you can't hear - it's never your disability, love."
"So, if you get frustrated, it's just, what? My personality?"
"More than likely," He grinned, arm snug around your waist again to walk down the snowy lane together. He laughed when your hand rose to pinch his side; squeezing his rib tightly, causing him to flinch and grunt lightly. "Hey, hey, easy with that," he chuckled, seeing your happy smile. "You all right, love? I know tonight was a lot, but... You feelin' any better?"
"I think so," you sighed. "The whiskey helps," you joked, raising the bottle to your lips.
"Mhm," he mused, taking the bottle after you.
"But present company helps more," you complimented softly. "You know, I'm sorry for today..."
"You're sorry that you couldn't hear a bunch of drunks in a packed-out pub?"
"Maybe?"
Tommy smirked, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's not your fault; like you say, it's not something you can control. I'm the one who's sorry you had to endure all of that... The lads got that guy pretty good."
"Good."
"And now you've a new job, yes?"
"After I hear about it," your eyes rolled in humor, taking the bottle back. "What's this big idea for a company anyway? What's it even called?"
"The Shelby Company Limited, and we're gonna change the whole of England, love."
requesting rules and masterlist
Peaky Blinders masterlist
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The Gangsta's Wife (Part 6)
DESCRIPTION: You complete your first business ordeal as a Shelby family member. Your husband, Thomas, wants to thank you for your effort.
A/N: Was this section of smut overly necessary or was I just horny when I wrote this part? I guess we'll never know
WORD COUNT: 2510
From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List
WARNINGS: swearing, blackmail, mild sexism, threat, talk of murder, drinking, sex whilst drunk (able to consent), smut, rough sex, no foreplay, mild breeding kink, pet names (love/sir), creampie, overstimluation, mild dacryphilia
DISCLAIMERS
This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand
This story does not follow the timeline of the show
Not been proof read - part may change slightly once I've proof read it
The clock chimes 8pm. You take in a breath. You and Tommy had parted ways since you discussion earlier this afternoon. Going about your business during the day. Due to him unable to find a different plan you were going with your choice. So here you were. Standing outside the garrison. You take a deep breath. Going inside you see a man sitting at a table. Looking smug as he drinks a pint.
You go over, putting on a false smile as you sit opposite him. His eyes meet yours before going over your body. His tongue darts out slightly as he smiles. You place your hands on the table, one hand over the other as you keep eye contact with him as hes finished checking you out. "Harry Thompson correct?" he nods "I have some business Id like to discuss with you" he chuckles slightly
"And you are?" he says in an almost mocking tone
"Sorry, where are my manners?" you hold your hand out for him to shake "Mrs Florence Shelby" he laughs again. Taking your hand and shaking it. You place yours back ontop of the one still resting on the table.
"So which one are you married to?"
"Does that matter?"
"I want to know which one sent you to do their dirty work"
"They didnt send me. They dont even know Im here" he nods, leaning back in his chair.
"WHat is it youd like to discuss then?"
"Id like to discuss your children. You have 5 I believe" he laughs
"I have 3. But carry on" a smirk on his face as you keep his eye contact
"Youre right. You and your wife have three children. Alfie, Anna, and William. But if you include the two children you had with your mistress then you have five"
"I dont know what you're talking about"
"So you dont know who Robert and Michael are? Or Rose, your mistress who had your children?" his smile drops. Eyes on yours as you continue talking "they live in London correct?" he goes to stand up
"My business isnt with you its with them" he stands
"SIt down Mr Thompson"
"I dont have to speak to one of their whores. Because that is exactly what you are"
"I said sit down Mr Thompson. Or I start screaming" he looks at you as you keep eye contact with him "how do you think thatll go for you? Given the current location we are in" he keeps looking at you, staying standing. You lean marginely closer to him, hushing your voice slightly so only he can hear you. "You may think you have this city wrapped around your finger but if any of the men in this building think you laid a hand on Thomas SHelby's wife then you better start digging your own grave" he takes in a deep breath. Sitting back down again.
"What is it you want?" he asks, a slight anger in his voice.
"I want you and your men to leave. The same conditionings my husband wants in fact" he grits his teeth
"And if I refuse?"
"One of my men goes and has a little visit to your family. The one up in London. The one we both know you care the most about. And slaughters them. One by one" his eyes dart around the room. You can sense the amount of fear going through his body. "If you leave then both of your families will remain safe. I wont tell my husband about Rose and your sons". You put your hand out for him to shake "do we have a deal?". He looks at you. Your calm behaviour being very different to the anxiety you feel welling up in your body. He reaches a hand out. Taking yours and shaking on the deal.
"Good decision. I'll give you until midnight tonight to leave this place. If you arent out by then... well, you know what'll happen" you smile at him. Standing up "Have a good night Mr Thompson" you leave the pub. Getting back home you open the front door. Taking your coat off and hanging it up. You can hear your husbands voice in the building next door. Given your previous experience of evesdropping you decide that it wouldnt be the best idea. Instead you retire early to bed. taking out a book you start reading.
You place the book down on your bedside table. Unsure of how late it is. But feeling dreadfully thirsty. You try settling down to sleep. Dehydration catching up to you. You mumble slightly as you get out of bed. Heading downstairs. Grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen to head back upstairs. You notice the living room light on.
Poking your head around the corner you see your husband. Whisley in hand as he watches the liquid swirl in the glass. "Mr Shelby?". His eyes look at you. The blue standing out among the darknessof the room. You step inside slightly. Seeing his jacket and waistcoat discarded on the sofa. "It appears to have gone well with Mr Thompson". He nods. Sipping his drink. Placing it onto the counter top he stands up.
"Go back to bed Flo. I'll be up shortly". His voice quiet. You nod. Turning back around. Going up the stairs. Reaching the top step you hear the living room door shut. Looking down the stairs to see darkness. You look downwards. Letting out a soft sigh as you head to your bedroom. Shutting the door and getting under the warm covers.
You wake up the next morning. Letting out a soft groan as you sit up. Hearing happy voices downstairs. Unsual given the normal tone of voice your new family has. AWare of the cold spot next to you. Not unsuaul. He sometimes stayed downstairs or in his own room next door.
You get out of bed. Wrapping your dressing gown round your body as you hear multiple voices. Heading into the living room you see your husband and his brothers. The three of them drinking and smoking. You fold your arms over your torso. Aware that you are still in your night clothes.
Arthur is the first to spot you. Coming over to you. The smell of alcohol on his breath. "Tommy told us what you did. That you helped Harry to fuck off" you chuckle slightly
"I suppose you could put it like that" you smile as he hugs you. Your arms going to your sides. Hanging awkwardly. Moving away he holds up his drink
"To Mrs SHelby"
"Ayy Mrs Shelby" you hear John call out. Your smile growing slightly as they drink their drinks in unison.
"Alright you two. Go on. We've still got stuff we need to be doing over in the shop. I'll be over in a bit". They both down their drinks. Heading past you. Them both smiling widely at you as you hear the front door go. Tommy titls his head as he looks at you. Then heading to his bottle of whiskey he grabs out a second glass. Topping up his one before puring you one. Walking over to you he hands you the fresh glass.
"I take it the plan worked?"
"Harry Thompson left late last night. He was seen getting into a car and driving off with his belongings". He clinks his glass to yours "Well done to your first official business ordeal. You're offically a Shelby" Taking a sip his drink as a soft smile appears on your face. His eyes watching yours as you do the same with the glass. Him standing about a foot away from you. You get the scent of whiskey and smoke from him.
"Thats excellent new Mr Shelvy. I'm glad the plan worked"
"As am I"
"What time did you find out he'd gone?"
"Early this morning. John and Arthur came round to tell me. We decided to celebrate the victory and have been celebrating since" you chuckle slightly. His mind only seeming to have noticed your nigthdress. He glances downwards. Trailing his eyes over the fabric before bringing them back up to meet yours.
He downs the rest of his drink. Placing his glass on the small coffee table. Standing straight again he closes the gap between you. His hand coming up to cup your face. Moving his thumb over your lips. Your cheeks going a soft shade of crimson at the affection. Your eyes still fixed on his. "Drink. Got to celebrate this victory, ey?". You smile, turning your head to the side slightly as you down your drink. He takes the opportunity to start kissing yur neck.
You let out a satisified sigh. Feeling his hand take the now empty galss from you. Hearing the soft clink as he places it onto the coffee table. His hands going to your hips as he holds you close to him. Feeling him start to grow in his trousers. The thin fabric of your night dress leaving very little to the imagination for the both of you. He unties the loose knot in the front of your gown. Pulling it off your shoulders and discarding it onot the floor. One hand snaking your waist. The other coming up and gripping at your breasts. His lips attacking your neck as he begins to massage your boob.
Your hands come up. Gently going to the side of his head. Reminvg it from your neck. Making him look at you "Mr Shelby... we cant here... my sisters..."
"You are my wife. And this is my house. Where else do ypu propose I can fuck you, ey?"
"But what if they see us...?" you whisper "Or even hear us for that matter?"
"I'll be quick" his hands moves from your chest where it was happy resting. Resting it over your mouth as he lowers his voice "All you have to do is not make a sound..." a soft whimper escapes your lips. Causing him to grin. His hands both drop to your hips. Forcibly turning you around. Pushing you to armchair in the room. Your hands going to the back of it as a means to not fall over. Your knees hit the plush seat. He rakes up your dress. Holding it up with one hand as he unbuttons his trousers. You hear him spit, seconds later feeling him rubbing his palm over your core. You whine out. Knees going up onto the chair as you push your hips back into his touch.
A few seconds later and he plunges himself into you. The lack of foreplay making the strecth almost unbearable. Causing you to cry out. The hand holding your night dress up moves. Snaking around your waist as he pulls you flush against him. Holding you up as the other hand covers your mouth. He turns your head to look at him. His dull nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks as you feel tears coming to your eyes. He comfortingly sushes you. Giving you a little bit of time to adjust before he starts to move his hips into yours. The pain going through your body quickly turning to pleasure as you cunt quickly adjusts to him. Your hands come up to his arm wrapped around you. Gripping at him.
Holding onto him for dear life as he continuesly plunges his cock in and out of your needy hole. You shut your eyes. Feeling the tears from your eyes fall down your cheeks. But you dont care. Your so focused on him filling you out that you dont care about the tears staining your cheeks. The dull pain between your thighs. The truly vulnerable and submissive state hes put you in. You only care about him. About how good he feels inside of you. And about how close hes managed to get you to your high.
"SUch a good girl for me. Letting me fuck this pretty cunt of yours. Fill you up with my seed. You deserve it, love. Being such a good wife. You deserve to be filled with my cum".
You subconsciously tighten around his words. Although you cant see it, you can feel the grin adorning his face. The hand from your mouth moves. Causing you to open your eyes. Being met with his dark, borderline sadistic gaze. A soft whine leaves your lips as you try and remain quiet. His thrusts slowing slightly.
Your hands come up. Moving from his arms to hold at his face as a feeble 'please' escapes your lips. A few more tears fall down your cheeks. His thumb quickly wiping them away, resting it gently onto your shoulder as he watches your eyes. Fresh tears quickly appearing as you can feel your high slowly drifiting away from you. His thrusts slow but continueus.
"Please sir...". he brushes the hair from your face. Tucking it behind your ear before placing his hand back over your mouth. Your arm goes around his neck as he continues to hold you flush against his body. Your other hand going to his wrist.
He starts thrusting at a godly speed. You practcily scream. Digging your nails into the flesh f his wrist. He kisses your shoulder. Grunting as he pushes himself deep inside of you. Feeling his cum hit your walls. You feel your hips start to spasm. Your own orgasm hitting you. Helping to milk him dry as he mutters a soft 'fuck' against you. His blunt nails digging into the softness of your cheeks as you tighten around him. You shut your eyes. A few more tears trailing down your face as you come down from your high.
His hand going from your mouth to gently brush the liquid away. You reac your hands out. STeadying yourself on the chair again as he pulls out of you. Watching his seed fall from your folds. He collects the jucies onto his tip. Pushing them back into your hole. You whine out in discomfort. Overstimulation and the dull ache being to much for you. But he thrusts a few more times before pulling out fully. Bringing your nightdress down to cover your intimate part before he puts himself back int his trousers.
Your breathing becomes steady again. Resting down into the chair. Feeling his hand brush your hair out of your face. You open your eyes. A tired smile on your face as you meet his blue eyes. "I have some work to do" you nod. Turning so you can stand up. Him steadying you as you wobble slightly. A slight smirk on his face. Knowing that hes the reason for your unsteadyiness. But your to cock drunk to care at this moment in time.
"I'll see you later then Mr Shelby" he smiles. Nodding as he lets your arm go. Going to the front door as yu hear it bang behind him. Quickly followed by the sound of his voice next door. You give yourself a few more minutes before getting up off the chair. Going upstairs to get dressed.
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@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo
#smut#fluff#angst#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy angst#cillian murphy fluff#peaky blinders#peaky blinders angst#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders fluff#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fluff#thomas shelby angst#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby smut#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders tommy shelby#peaky blinders thomas shelby#peaky blinders thomas#peaky blinders tommy fluff#peaky blinders tommy smut#peaky blinders tommy angst#peaky blinders thomas angst#peaky blinder thomas fluff#peaky blinders thomas smut#tommy x reader
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CHIBI ; TOMMY SHELBY &
ALFIE SOLOMONS
#tommy x alfie#tofie#peaky blinders#peaky blinders art#peaky blinders fanart#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders alfie#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#tommy shelby x alfie solomons#art#digital art#chibi art
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redraw of this behind the scenes photo cause I love it sm
#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fanart#peaky blinders art#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders alfie#tommy x alfie#shelomons#cillian murphy#tom hardy
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youtube
Peaky Blinders: Garrison Tavern
#peaky blinders#peaky fucking blinders#peaky blinders quotes#peaky blinders rp#peaky blinders roleplay#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanart#peaky blinders fandom#peaky blinders headcanon#peaky blinders movie#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#arthur shelby#garrison tavern#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinder headcanon#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinder#cillian murphy#Youtube
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Tommy in a cig costume
#peaky blinders#peaky blinders drawing#peaky blinders headcanon#peaky blinders Tommy#cillian murphy#its a lifestyle#cute custom
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give him a boyfriend:(
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#enisteyjia#couple#bw#dark#black and white#aesthetic#art#tommy and grace#tommy shelby#grace shelby#peaky blinders
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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
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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
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𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆; 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒚
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; tommy notices your pregnancy before you do
the night was calm, the moon casting a soft silvery glow through the curtains of the room you and tommy shared. as the streets outside murmured with the remnants of the day, you lay in bed, shifting and turning. the sheets rustled as you tried to find a comfortable position, your restlessness a silent symphony in the dimly lit room.
lying next to you, tommy couldn’t help but notice. his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers absently brushed against the fabric of your shy pink nightie.
after a moment, tommy propped himself up on an elbow, his brow furrowing with a careful mixture of annoyance and concern. you glance at your husband, eyes meeting his icy ones in the quiet of the night.
“can’t sleep?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that carried a depth of understanding for your situation.
you sighed, a hint of frustration tugging at your tender lips. “it’s like i can’t get comfortable. oh tommy, i’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
tommy reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “something botherin’ you, angel?”
you hesitated, gaze holding his for a moment longer before you shook your head. “i just … can’t get comfortable,” you whine, pouting your lips.
he opens his arms for you and you lean into his comfortable embrace. albeit, it was much easier to feel lulled with him beside you. it was a delicacy that had become so fleeting within a few months of marriage. usually he'd come to bed after you'd fallen asleep, and woke before you started to stir.
as the silence lingered, tommy’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the soft slopes of your face. in that moment, a realization seemed to settle over him, piece by piece, like a puzzle coming together.
“love,” he began slowly, his voice a mix of tenderness and curiosity. “i’ve been noticing things lately. changes.”
you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. “changes?”
tommy’s fingers brushed against your flushed cheek, his touch gentle as he spoke. “you’ve been feeling sick over certain smells, right? complaining about the food in the kitchen?”
you blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden but astute observations. “that’s true.”
“ and i’ve noticed you’ve been tired. more than usual,” he continued, his thumb tracing circles on your skin
you nodded slowly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dawning in your eyes. “i’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open lately.”
tommy paused, his gaze searching yours before he spoke again, his voice softer. “and there’s the restlessness. tossing and turning all night.”
your breath caught as the realization dawned on you, and you met his gaze with a swirling mixture of emotions.
“tommy, what are you…?”
you trail off as his fingers trace your silky nightie that had once fit just right around your curves but was now becoming snug around your waist. his fingers slid down to cup your gently rounded tummy, his touch light and deliberate.
“your hips,” he said, his voice a hushed murmur. “they’re different now. rounder. as well as your tummy…”
you blushed, your nervous laughter a mixture of shyness and surprise. “oh, so you’ve noticed that?”
you'd figured it had something to do with the way you've been indulging lately. you were thankful your husband chose not to mention your newfound voracious appetite. you were ashamed of how unladylike your eating habits had become, especially on nights when your husband didn't accompany you to dinner.
his gaze held yours, his smile tender as he continued to trace over your softer tummy. “couldn’t very well miss it now, could i?”
tommy’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his touch a reassuring anchor once he sees you flush at his teasing. “don’t worry, angel, it suits you.”
you smile shyly and bury your face into his shoulder. a moment passes and tommy speaks again.
his fingers brushed against your stomach as he spoke, “i think i might know what’s going on, love.”
a beat of silence passes, then, you realize what your husband could be hinting at.
"yeah?" you breathe, staring into your husband's eyes to confirm your suspicions. you'd figured that you might've been carrying when your monthly had failed to arrive for a second month in a row, but it didn't quite register as a concern until tommy had started to notice.
"i think you're expecting." his words are tender, both of you sharing a moment of silent revaluation.
"tommy..."
you hadn't been trying for a baby, though neither of you were opposed to the idea of children. you'd discussed it on your wedding night, and tommy had promised that he'd give you as many children as you wanted under the humble request that he'd be able to have a year to spend with just his wife before adding any new additions.
“i understand if you’re not happy about this, i know you said you—”you begin to ramble, but get cut off by your husband pressing a stern finger over your lips to prevent any more anxious words from waltzing out.
“shh, love,” he murmurs, “‘m happy about it.” your can feel your eyes fill with tears at his words. mood swings already, you think, how did he notice before you did?
“truly?” you look up into his eyes to see a familiar tenderness, reserved only for you and now apparently your child.
he sighs happily and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.“truly.”
#━━━ .°˖✧ tommyshelbyslittleprincess ⋆˙⊹#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#tommy shelby imagine
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Aces
prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.
pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders
word count: 3.5k+
warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.
With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.
All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.
You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.
"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"
"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"
"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"
"No, it's my own vocation."
"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."
"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"
"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"
"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.
"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.
"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.
"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.
"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.
"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.
"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."
"Hey," he pouted.
"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"
"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."
"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."
The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.
You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.
"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"
You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "
Speak of the Devil!
And He will appear!
The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.
For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.
He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.
Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.
You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.
Tommy always had a soft spot for you.
He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"
"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.
"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."
"Uh... Where?"
"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.
"Mr. Shelby, don't - "
But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.
"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.
"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."
You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"
"Hmm?"
"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"
He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"
"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."
"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."
You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."
Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."
"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."
"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"
You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "
But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."
You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"
"It is."
"I thought you liked the barmaid?"
"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."
"I doubt that."
"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."
"That you'd be willing to admit to?"
"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"
"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."
"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."
"No, you lot are having family time - "
"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."
"You mean that?" You worried softly.
He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."
The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"
Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."
You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.
Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.
"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.
"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.
"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.
"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."
"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."
"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.
However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!
"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.
"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.
"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"
"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.
"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.
"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.
Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.
Neither seemed to notice.
Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.
Never realizing.
Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.
The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.
"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.
"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"
Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."
John agreed.
Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.
Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.
It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "
"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "
"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.
"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."
He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."
"Wishful thinking."
He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.
A good different, but still different.
Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.
"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"
"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.
"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."
You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"
"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."
"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"
He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."
"That's the whiskey talking."
"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."
"And now you are?"
"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."
You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"
"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"
"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"
"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."
"What about Grace?"
"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."
"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."
His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."
"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."
"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"
"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."
"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."
"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.
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Peaky Blinders masterlist
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The Gangstas Wife (Part 2)
DESCRIPTION: You agree to Thomas Shelby's plan of marriage. Having the wedding ceremony and starting to involve yourself in their family business.
WORD COUNT: 3082
From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List
WARNINGS: swearing, drinking, smoking, underage drinking (brief), smut, vanilla sex, creampie, violence, talk of violence
DISCLAIMERS
This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand
I have not watched Peaky Blinders so this may not be accurate to the actual TV show. It will also not follow the timeline of the show. But I hope you enjoy.
Its your wedding day. You'd be lying if you said you could remember most of the day before the ceremony. Your nerves are so high that you tried to drink most of them away. Your friend having to confiscate the alcohol from you. Worried you might pass out from indulging to much. It was after you'd said 'I do' that you remember the party. People drinking, smoking, dancing. Elizabeth comes over to you as you hold a beer.
"Can I try some?"
"Your 15"
"How old where you when you first tried alcohol?" you chuckle, handing it to her as she takes it
"You won't like it" she takes a small sip. Her face scrunching up as she hands it back to you
"That is vile" you nod, drinking it as she dramatically coughs "how can you drink that stuff?"
"Quite easily" you say, amusement in your voice as you ruffle her hair. She bats at your hands
"Stop you're embarrassing me"
"I'm your sister, its my job to embarrass you" she rolls her eyes. Mary running over as she grabs Lizzies hand.
"Come dance with me" she drags her away. You watch as they both dance near a fire pit. Drinking your drink as Tommy walks over to you. Standing next to you. He also watches the people dancing around the fire.
"We should be going" he says "its getting late". You fidgit with your sleeve as you nod
"You're sure your sister is ok to look after Liz and Mary? I don't want to be a burden to her" he smiles slightly
"You're family now so its not a burden" he turns his head to face you as you keep fidgeting with your sleeve. Watching your sisters "you've not left them alone before, have you?"
"Not over night" he nods. His eyes still on you "ok. Ok. I got this" you down the rest of your drink. Half a pint without breathing. Causing him to smile as he looks away. You place it down onto a table nearby. You say goodbye to your sisters before you head off. Hugging them both and kissing the tops of their heads. Following your newly wed husband out to the car.
Tommy had booked a small room in Worcester. The Shelby family had agreed to dropping your sisters off at home. Ada even saying she'll stay in the house with them as you'd never left them on their own before. You'd spoken to her a few times after the ceremony so you trusted her with them. This didn't stop you being anxious the whole journey. Fidgeting with your hands as he drives you both to the place. Getting out he walks with you to the room.
You get inside. He shuts the door behind you as you look around the room. You feel his eyes on you. Watching as you go over to a small fireplace. Running your finger over the mantel piece. You turn to face him. Him taking off his jacket before leaning against the door. "Are you a virgin Flo?" you look at him. Meeting his gaze
"No. No I'm not. Mr Shelby" he nods. Eyes still on you as you swallow deeply. Talking in a soft tone, trying to sound semi seductive as you speak "Can you help me unbutton my dress please?" he moves from the framework. Walking over to you. Not once leaving your eyes as he comes in front of you.
His hands tracing down your sleeved arms before going behind you. Feeling him unbuttoning them. Once he undoes the last one he brings his hands up. Gently pulling the fabric down your body. Letting the dress pool around your feet. Leaving you in your negligee.
You move your hands to his waistcoat. Feeling him remove the item of clothing as your hands go quickly to work on his shirt. Undoing the buttons of that as well. He brings a hand up to your cheek. Leaning forward as he presses a kiss to your lips. Soft kisses being exchanged between the two of you. Your hands undo the last button of his shirt, pulling it from being tucked in his trousers. He moves to your neck. You push his shirt off of him. That falling to the bottom of your feet.
You let your head fall back as he kisses near your collar bone. One of his hands going to your lower back as he keeps you pressed against him. The other going to your breast at he kneads at it. One of your hands goes to the back of his neck. The other gripping at his shoulder as a soft moan escapes past your lips. He moves back up. His hands going to the bottom of your negligee. You bring your arms up as he pulls it over your head. Leaving you naked in front of him as he drops it onto the floor.
A soft blush coming over your cheeks. His hands going to the button of his trousers as he undoes them. Taking his underwear off as well. Leaving you both naked. A hand coming to the back of your neck as he kisses you. Your hands coming up to rest on his chest as he leads you to the bed. His arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you onto it. Lying down as he comes on top of you. Your lips never parting as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He keeps himself elevated above you by resting on his forearm. The other hand coming and tracing down the side of your body. Grabbing at the flesh of your thigh. Your legs going either side of him as you feel him adjust above you. He moves away from your lips, causing you to open your eyes, half lidded as you feel his fingers go to your core. Soft whimpers leaving your lips as he pushes a finger into you. You shut your eyes, hand going to the back of his head as you pull him down. Capturing his lips with yours as he drags his finger along your walls. Inserting another one into you.
"So fucking needy already" he murmurs, moving away from the kiss. Letting the sounds fall past your lips and landing delicately on his ears. He kisses at your neck as he continues his slow drag against you. Building you up slowly, ready for his cock. You shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of bliss going through your body. The gentle kiss at your neck as he continues a steady rhythm with his fingers. Getting closer to your high.
You let out an annoyed huff as he removes his fingers. The steady bliss leaving your body suddenly. Opening your eyes you look at him. His piercing blue ones looking back down at you, blown out with lust as he hovers above you. You lean upwards, trying to kiss him. To get any sort of contact again. But he just lets out a soft chuckle. The hand that was inside of you coming up and gently pushing down onto your chest. Another annoyed huff coming from you as your eyes stay on his lips.
"Please sir. Want to feel you". Those little words causing him to smile softly. His hand moving from your chest as he takes his length. Lining himself up with you as he slowly pushes into you.
"Shit" you grip the back of his neck. Your other hand grabbing at his arm as he smiles down at you. Kissing you as he bottoms out. He moves away from your lips, starting to move his hips into your. Your eyes flutter shut as his slow, precise movements. Your hand gripping his body as soft whines of pleasure leave your lips. His thrusts start to get faster as your moans get louder. Feeling yourself fall more into the state of bliss.
"P-please... please don't stop" you speak out. You feel your face scrunching slightly as your high builds up and up. Your nails digging into the back of his neck slightly as you bite your bottom lip. Feeling his lips start to kiss at your neck, instinctively tilting it so he can gain easier access to it. You feel him letting out soft grunts, the air hitting your skin as he also gets close. "Gonna cum. Please..." you feel him smile against your skin as you push your legs together. Your orgasm hitting you. An unholy moan escaping your lips
"Fuck" he mutters, feeling you clench around his length. He moves in and out of your hole a few more times. Over stimulation soon hitting you, causing you to whine out and clench your legs together. A few more thrusts before his hips move fully into you before he releases himself. The sensation of him filling you up. You get rid of the iron grip you have on his neck and arm. Gently running your hand soothingly over his neck as the other one remains rested on his arm. You both catch your breath before he pulls out of you.
He lies next to you. The both of you staring up at the ceiling for a few moments. Sitting in the sex filled air. He sits up, you turn your head to watch him as he grabs a pack of smokes and takes two out. Passing one to you as he grabs some matches too. You turn to your side as he passes you one of the sticks he got out. You place it into your mouth as you sit up slightly. Arm bent as you rest your head on your hand. He sits up on the bed, one leg bent as he rolls the cigarette over his lips before placing it there. Lighting the match he does yours first before his. Smoking in blissful silence before going to sleep.
It had been a couple of months since you'd married Mr Shelby. 2 months in fact. The Shelby's didn't fully trust you. Whenever they spoke about business they would always speak in hushed tones. Often going silent if you walked into the room. You understood why. You figured they did this for a variety of reason - the less you know the less you have to talk about; they didn't fully trust you yet due to being a new member of the family; and they didn't know if you had any ulterior motives. That was where the list ended.
So to say that they're behaviour towards you was mildly irritating would probably be an understatement. But you gritted your teeth and got on with your life. You don't expect them to tell you all the gritty details but even just being able to have a conversation with your husband or one of your in-laws without it turning into them asking you why? Why were you wanting to know about their days? Why did you care whose blood you were washing out of your husbands shirts?
You were in your house. Mending a torn dress as you hear the door slam. Jumping you go over to greet whoever was at the door. Furrowing your brow in confusion at the empty hallway. Then you hear the annoyed shouting next door. In their work house. You put down your dress. Going over to the wall you press your ear against it. Curiosity getting the better of you as you listen in. Although you couldn't make out the words exactly, you could hear who it was talking. You heard Tommy's voice. Mixed with both John and Arthur's.
You try and focus on their words. Frowning slightly as you try and figure out what they are saying. Them speaking to softly for you to be able to hear "What the hell are you doing?" Jumping you turn around. Seeing Polly. Her eyes on yours as you clutch at your heart.
"Fuck you scared me. I didn't hear you come in"
"Clearly" she speaks "what were you doing?" watching you as you think of an excuse. The longer you stay silent the more... aggressive her stare became.
"I thought I heard rats in the walls. I've seen them outside a couple of times and I heard a scratching so I was just listening for them" you try to keep your eyes steady on hers as you feel fear coming over your body at your lie. The sounds of the boys next door stopping. She nods, eyes going to the wall as she takes her coat off.
"How was your day?" You try to control your breathing as you change the subject. Blanking out for her answer as she tells you about her day. 'mhmm'-ing in agreement as she talks. Thinking shes taken your bluff as she stops dwelling on it.
You spend the rest of the evening as you normally would. You play a card game with your sisters as Tommy continues his work next door with his family, Polly now joining them. You put the girls to bed. It was late by this point so you go upstairs, starting to get ready for bed. You wash your face, hearing the bedroom door open you look around. Seeing the familiar frame of your husband walk in.
"How was your day?" you ask Thomas as he walks into the room fully. Feeling his eyes on you as you turn your face away from him again. Continuing to get ready for bed. Taking off your dress. You turn to face him properly. Confused as to why he wasn't answering you. His face strikes fear into your very core. His eyes boring holes into you as you stand there. He remains silent as he watches you. Like a hawk on its prey.
He reaches into his jacket. Taking out a gun. Your body going stiff as he walks over to the vanity unit in your bedroom. Placing the gun on the top. Then taking his jacket off as he places it over the top of the chair. "Mr Shelby?" Trying to sound unwavered by his glare but your voice coming out as a whisper. He turns around to face you. Hands leaning on the unit now behind him. Fingers dangerously close to the gun. You manage to move your eyes away from the weapon and up to his face as he starts to speak.
"I spoke to Polly earlier. She told me that we have a rat problem" you nod slightly
"I heard them in the walls..." you whisper out
"What was that?" he leans forward slightly, almost mocking. Daring.
"I heard them" your voice stronger this time "In the walls. She found me listening for them" he nods. Watching you still. Silence cutting through the air.
"I had to kill someone today". The lack of emotion with those cruel words sends a shiver down your spine. You look away from him. Eyes panning to the ground. "I found out that one of my men had been double crossing me" you hear him walk over to you. His hand comes up. Grabbing your face under your jaw. Forcing you to look straight at him as your hands go up. Instinctively going to his wrist.
Although you manage to control yourself from shaking in fear you aren't able to control the panic going through your eyes as he pulls you close to him. "So I took his eyes. His fingers. And his tongue" his thumb gently brushing over you lips as his sharp blue orbs stay on yours. "Before I left him to bleed out on the floor". Now you understand why his enemies fear him so.
"Mr Shelby... Please..." you feel your eyes filling with tears. The fear and pain from his grip making your eyes start to well up.
"You know who my family are. What my family do. You knew all this before we got married. There must've been some other reason as to why you decided to eavesdrop on us having a private meeting". You stay quiet. The grip on your jaw tightening. Causing you to take a sharp breath in. "The truth Florence". Pain surging through your jaw. His blunt nails digging into the flesh of your cheeks. A single tear falling down your cheek. Eyes darting between his as he watches, waiting for your answer.
"I- I heard the door slamming and then voices and I got curious... I thought... if I knew wh-what the problem was - if there was a problem - then I could help... that I could be of service to you and your family... I promise Mr Shelby. It was just a stupid mistake. I'm sorry... I'm really sorry..." He thinks for a moment. Taking in what you just said. His hand loosens slightly but doesn't drop your face.
"You wanted to be of service to myself and my family?" you nod. As best as you can given his hold on your jaw. He thinks for a minute. Your eyes watching each others as silence once again fills the room. He drops your face. Going over to the vanity unit again. Eyes darting back to the gun as you try and keep your best composure. You look back at him when he grabs a cigarette from his jacket pocket. Lighting it as he sits down on the chair. He watches you, eyes scanning over your currently half dressed body.
"I know what you're family thinks of me"
"Why do you care what they think of you?"
"Normally I don't. But the lack of trust they have with me is... unnerving. Every time I go into a room I worry they're going to kill me" you walk over to him. Slowly as to not startle him. Aware that his gun is in grabbing distance. You kneel in front of him. Eyes on his as you rest your hands on his legs. "I don't expect them to trust me enough to tell me their personal lives. But it'd be nice to not fear for my life every time I walk into a room. I thought if I could help with your enemies then they might like me more".
He takes a deep inhale of his smoke. Thinking about what you've said. He removes the cigarette with his middle finger and thumb, watching you as rings of grey exit his mouth. "We have a family meeting tomorrow. Nine o'clock. You can join us and I'll start thinking about letting you into the more gritty parts of our jobs, eh?"
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#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy angst#cillian murphy fluff#peaky blinders#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders angst#peaky blinders fluff#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby angst#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby smut#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders tommy smut#peaky blinders tommy angst#peaky blinders tommy fluff
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Eddsworld Screenshot Eddits | Peaky Blinders
If I had a nickel for every gay couple where one of them has the side of his face horrifically scarred, and the other one's name is Tom.
I'd have 2 nickels.
Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice.
#they called me crazy for this#but i ate#tommy x alfie#tofie#eddsworld#eddsworld art#eddsworld fanart#eddsworld screenshot redraw#eddsworld eddit#ew#ew art#ew fanart#ew screenshot redraw#ew eddit#peaky blinders#peaky blinders art#peaky blinders fanart#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders alfie#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#tommy shelby x alfie solomons#art#digital art
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girlboss x malewife vibe
#peaky blinders#peaky blinders art#peaky blinders fanart#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#peaky blinders tommy#peaky blinders alfie#shelomons#tommy x alfie#tofie#cillian murphy#tom hardy
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PEAKY BLINDERS
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#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#cillian murphy#cmurphyedit#peakyedit#pbedit#televisongifs#tvedit#mediagifs#dailyflicks#tvandfilm#cinemapix#cinematv#filmtvdaily#userbbelcher#userstream#userrobin#my gifs
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this is literally the hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life. i am just sitting here watching it over and over and over and over again… ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY BRAIN TO HANDLE.
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian x reader#thomas shelby#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby x reader
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