Encounter
Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader
18* Mentions of violence, swearing, sexual behaviour.
(Possible one shot)
Rolling over in his cramped bed, in Watery Lane. Tommy felt the springs digging into his back. To be honest, this bed had witnessed plenty of action. He could easily afford a new one now. Just hadn't got round to it.
Rather splashing the cash on clothes and women. Plus, providing for the family. That’s what life was all about.
Thinking of the action, he had last night, he turned his head. Expecting to see you laying there, still naked and ready for round four. To his shock, the bed was empty.
"What the fuck?" he mumbled, sitting up. No sign of you, no sign of your belongings. Had he dreamt it? No... he taken you home from the Garrison re-opening. Then he'd taken you against the door, on the stairs, on this bed.
Taken you hungrily, greedily. While you had begged for more. Gripping him with your thighs.
He'd noticed you around Small Heath, for weeks. Been watching you from afar. Observing your movements.
You hadn't seemed to notice him, that had annoyed him. He usually didn't have to work for a woman. They knew his reputation, and would come to him. Throw themselves at him.
But not you.
You had declined his offer of a drink, in The Marquis last week. Much to the amusement of his brothers.
Quite happy, sitting with your friends, listening to the singing. Eventually getting up, and dancing to the beat. Tommy had watched your hips swaying. Thinking how much, he would like to run his hands across him. Plant kisses on them… moving further down.
Then you had left, without another glance in his direction.
Unbelievable.
After doing some investigating, he had found out you worked at the local BSA factory. A personal secretary to the manager, that meant you had brains. He liked you already.
It was an open invite to The Garrison, everyone in Small Heath. And he's wish had come true, you had turned up. Wearing a lace turquoise dress, which showed off your frame perfectly.
Clearing his throat, he had eventually approached you. Thrusting a glass of champagne into your hand. As you watched him through your thick lashes.
“Thank you, Mr Shelby," you had purred back. Knowing he had been staring at you, all night. He couldn't make it more damn obvious. He had been the same at The Marquis.
"Tommy," he had corrected, "Call me Tommy, and you are?" He already knew your name, age, address, fucking shoe size. Not that he would let you know that, no way.
"Me?" you giggled, patting his arm. "I am the one, you have been staring at,"
Blowing him a kiss, you sashayed away. Leaving him flushed, with embarrassment. Fucking get a grip Tommy, he warned himself, feeling his cock stir. She was one woman, one bloody woman. The place was full of women.
But you intrigued him....
So he had gone against his own rules, offered you another drink. Spent the evening trying to woo you. He found you very alluring, sexy, but you could hold a conversation. Were very charismatic, he even laughed a few times!
Jesus Tommy…. Somehow he’d found himself telling you about his life. His businesses, his family, the horses. But, not France. No he had avoided that topic.
Sitting up, he looked around the room again. Half expecting you to appear, then he noticed the lipstick on his mirror. A simple red kiss. He couldn’t help but grin. He had been played alright, used and dumped.
Wait… that’s what he usually did. Damn.
After dressing, he made his way down to the kitchen. Silently pouring out a tea, deep in thought about you.
“Throw that bird out already? Eh, Tommy?” Arthur laughed, from across the table.
“Who? Who’s this?” Ada piped up, Karl on her knee eating porridge.
“Mind your own bloody business,” Tommy grinned, ruffling Karl’s hair as he left for the day. So they all knew he had taken you home. He would have to make out, you'd left straight away.
You know, just to save his ego.
Keeping busy all morning, he had counted the numbers three times now. He never made mistakes at work, ever. Thoughts of your lips pressed against his came back to him, your warmth breath fanning across his neck. As you softly moaned, in that sweet voice of yours.
Sweet like honey.
He would have to see you again. He needed to.
An itch he just had to scratch.
Before he realised what was happening, he was strolling towards your work. Cigarette hanging from his lips, as he debated what he would actually say.
Without hesitation, he walked confidently across the factory floor. Earning looks from workers.
“Good Afternoon, Mr Shelby. How can I help?” The owner Cyril Morgan asked him.
He was your boss, so he had found out. Looking the older man up and down, Tommy's eyes roamed across to the office window. Expecting to see you there, sitting on the desk, beckoning him forwards with your finger.
Dress riding up... as he watched your ruby lips…
"Mr Shelby?" He heard Mr Morgan ask again. "We don't have any money due to the Blinders, do we?" He nervously rang his hands in front of Tommy. His swollen stomach, protruding through his shirt.
"I wanted a word, with Y/n," He stated, stubbing out his cigarette on the factory floor. Much to Morgan's dismay.
"Y/n? Y/n…. Y/L/N?" he queried, frowning. "What? What has she done? If the silly girl has been causing trouble, then I..."
Tommy was growing bored of this conversation, he was a busy man. "Is she here or not, ey?"
"Yes, yes, follow me," he stuttered, as he hobbled towards his office.
There you were, sitting behind your desk. A pencil between your full lips, as you read something intently. The glow from the soft lamp, highlighting your features. Hair pinned up, loose curls around the base of your neck.
The neck he had nibbled against, last night.
"Y/n!" your boss bellowed, "Stop bloody daydreaming, Mr Shelby is here to see you,"
Hiding the look of surprise on your face, you simply leant back on your chair. Tongue subtly running across your lips. "Good Afternoon Mr Shelby, how can I help you?"
Tommy shot a glare towards your boss, as he scuttled away. Watching you carefully, he ran a cigarette across his lips. "Just came to check on you, Y/n," he stated, you dumb fuck Tommy!
Check on you!
Standing up, you slowly approached him. Taking the now lit cigarette from him, and placing it between your own lips. A small smile forming, his ego was hurt you realised.
"Check on me? I'm perfectly fine, Mr Shelby,"
"That you are," he smirked, running his eyes across your slightly exposed cleavage. "Thought we were past surnames now?" You placed the cigarette back into his mouth, fingers brushing against his peachy lips.
"Sorry Tommy," you replied, "You know, you are going to get me in trouble? Distracting me? Tut, tut," Perching your ass on the edge of your desk, you slightly leant back. Enhancing your chest.
Glancing out of the window, Tommy kicked the door shut. Slowly making his way towards you. "Thing is, Y/n... I think you like trouble, hmm?" His eyes flicked to your lips.
It was taking all of his control, not to rip your panties off and slam into you.
No Tommy… you could not lose your head over one bloody woman!
Tags- @romanogersendgame @loveableasshole @goldensunflowe-r @captivatedbycillianmurphy @namelesslosers @lauren-raines-x @katsav17 @fairypitou @answer-the-sirens @vxrixnt @kathrinemelissa @kaybeeboop @cloudofdisney @geminiwolves @datewithgianni @lyarr24 @ysmmsy @sixbillionpieces @morgana-olson @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @kaleid0sc0pe @dolllol2405 @queenies1x1 @agirlcandream84 @misselsbells06 @missymurphy1985 @mgkobsessed @alreadybroken-ts @peaky-cillian @whitejuliana1204 @look-at-the-soul @goldensunflowe-r @lespendy @cillmequick @raychhh @watercolorskyy @cillybillyy @everyonesawhore @peakypoet @camilleholland89 @kaitieskidmore1 @midnightmagpiemama @castellandiangelo @babayaga67 @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @elenavampire21 @cljordan-imperium @already-broken144 @peakyscillian
Tags
1K notes
·
View notes