#tommy shelby fluff
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Afraid
Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Tommy’s wife finds out about his diagnosis
Warnings: Angst, insanely depressing, tears, allusion to tuberculoma/illness, depiction of anxiety, tension, mentions of death, nothing happy in this at all
Author’s note: Derived from Season 6 when Tommy gets diagnosed with a terminal illness (I do use some dialogue from Episode 5)
The heels of your black t-strap shoes clicked against the wooden floor, echoing through the expansive halls of Arrow house. You approached Tommy’s dimly lit office in hopes of retrieving a book. He was into reading poetry lately, and you thought you’d borrow from him.
“Tommy?” You peeked your head in, surprised to find his office chair vacant. He must have stepped out for a moment.
A grand library lined the walls of his office, adjacent to his desk. The titles jumped out at you as you walked towards it, turning your head, and scanning over the names: Frost, Hughes, Fitzgerald. A cloud of dust swirled in the air as you pulled one off the shelf, holding it open in your hands and flicking through the pages.
You invited yourself to sit down, sighing as you settled into a plush, velvety red lounge chair. After looking over the book for awhile your eyes flicked up to his desk. A manila folder stood out against the dark wood. In curiosity, you got up, setting your book down and walking over to it.
You rounded his desk, flicking your eyes over the unlabeled folder. With a furrowed brow you opened it, running your painted fingers over the documents.
The thumping of familiar, confident footsteps grew in volume, nearing the office. Tommy’s figure entered, dressed in his usual attire. His eyes widened in surprise and horror to see you standing there. “What are you doing in here?”
“I was looking for something..” You defended absentmindedly; your attention engrossed in the files laid out before you. A sinking feeling brewed in your stomach as you observed the papers.
“What is this, Tommy?” The question came out in a shaky whisper. You chewed on your lip, thumbing through the doctor’s note and the x-ray, pulling it off his desk.
A curse fled him with a breath. He didn’t intend for you to find that. His jaw clenched as pulled the door closed behind him.
As your flickering eyes examined the black and white image, your hands started to tremble, trying to decipher its meaning as if there was an alternative one. “Tommy.. what- what does this mean?”
Silence filled the room as he walked over to the bar cart, pouring himself a drink. He was self-medicating. He didn’t even realize he was doing it. You watched him with worried eyes, waiting for him to say something. He was silent, taking a large drink of whiskey with an expressionless face, letting out a withheld breath. He didn’t even taste it anymore. Didn’t feel it’s warm burn going down his throat. But he did feel the cloud of turbulent emotions swelling in his chest. That was something he never got used to.
“Tommy?”
“What?” He shouted suddenly, making you jump. “For Christ’s sake, what??”
His chest rose and fell with his labored breath, running his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with raised brows.
“Are you..” you choked, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. “Are you ill?”
Silence again. You held yourself in anticipation, smoothing your palm over your neck, pulling at your necklace to gather more air.
“Yes! Alright? Yes. I’m fucking dying. What does it fucking matter anyway..” he scoffed, reaching urgently into his pocket for a lighter.
His insensitive, casual air of speaking made you tremble with nerves, anger, and confusion. You threw the papers down on the desk, striding across the room to meet him. His detached expression illuminated from the flame of his lighter, casting aglow the pale blue eyes hiding from yours. He took in a drag, letting it out and raising his head to look at you. Internally, he was repelled by your sympathy. As if you were a nuisance for caring about him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You cried, blinking back tears. “How could you keep this from me?” Your heart was pounding as a sense of hurt and betrayal came over you.
“It wasn’t for you to know.. alright?” He explained in his usual placid tone, gesturing a hand out as he spoke. “I was developing a plan, making sure everyone is taken care of.” A breath of gray smoke entered the air with his exasperated breath.
Tommy didn’t know how to take care of himself. He avoided it. He knew if he looked inward there would be too many problems and not enough time to solve them. So, he made everyone else his project.
You let out a painful scoff, taking a few steps back in disbelief. “You and your plans Tommy!” An aggravated groan came from you as you rubbed your stressed fingers over your face, trying to ease the building pressure in your head.
“When everyone is taken care of financially, I’ll take myself away..”
Your hand fell from your face, blinking at him in shock and confusion.
His expression remained unchanged at your display of protest. “Before that I will be going to Canada, to collect payment for a shipment worth five million pounds.” The tip of his cigarette dragged over his lips as his brow furrowed in thought. “Which I will share among the Shelby family..”
A gray cloud of smoke followed his moving lips, standing out in the amber light, swirling in a haze. It reminded you of the fragility of human life, that in one moment it can disappear like a whisper, dissolving into the air.
“And that will be my legacy." His gaze split from you as his jaw clenched, internally at war over speaking his next words. "Instead of me, there will be money. Because to most of the people close to me that is what I am!" He raised his voice with his rising adrenaline, pointing a finger in emphasis. "Fucking money.”
The statement felt like a punch in the gut, taking your breath away. “What? Tommy that’s not true..”
“Eh?”
“That’s not true Tommy..” the nerves made you tremble, holding your stomach with your hands to settle the sick feeling.
“All them bullets that missed. It’s funny. It’s funny is what it is! Made it through fucking France- all of it, and fucking tuberculoma is what takes me. Christ.” He turned from you and poured himself another drink, indulging it quickly. A bead of liquid spilled down his chin, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. He leaned forward, holding onto the edge of the table. The tendons in his hand twitched as his frustration grew.
“You’re afraid Tommy.”
His temple jumped from the pressure of his clenched jaw as he turned in your direction, straightening his posture. “What?”
“You’re afraid..” you whimpered sympathetically, tip-toeing towards him with woeful eyes.
“When you’re afraid..” you whispered sadly, venturing to stroke his temple with your fingers. “You over-explain yourself..” the pad of your thumb stroked his skin softly, damp with sweat. “you talk and you don’t stop..”
The tension in his shoulders eased from the warmth of your touch. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He felt trapped. You knew him too well. Knew him more than he knew himself sometimes.
A surge of empathy came suddenly over you like tidal wave that couldn’t be reasoned with. You could feel his grief, weighing on you against your will. It’s feeling began in your stomach, rising to your throat, when you finally broke the silence, letting out a choked sob. Your fingers came over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound.
You took a few careful steps towards him, breathing shakily as you dared to close the space between you, sliding your delicate hands around his neck.
“Fuck off.. fuck off..” he whimpered at your attempt to embrace him, pushing your arms away. His strong hands grabbed hold of your wrists, resisting your touch.
“Tommy..” you whispered sadly, fighting his attempts to flee. You cried, struggling to wrap your arms around him.
“Get the fuck off me..” he whispered harshly, looking at you with watery eyes. His pale blue eyes glistened with tears as he looked over you, his brows knit together sadly, resembling the look of a scared child.
You sniffled in response, thumbing his cheek tenderly. The warmth of your touch coaxed a bead to slip from his eye, rolling down his face.
He knew he couldn't win this war. The grip on your wrists loosened as he let go of your arms. With defeated steps he closed the space between you, dropping his head into your chest. He took in a shaky breath, fanning your skin, before letting go completely, dampening your blouse with his tears. It’s been bottling up in him for so long. He tried to hide it. Tried his best to keep it a secret. To stay strong for you. But he couldn’t. You always gave him a safe space to be weak.
“Oh Tommy..” you wept, your voice was ridden with grief. For the fact that he was bearing all of this on his own. That he was dying right in front of you, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice and you hated yourself for it. He was so good at hiding.
Your hands rubbed up and down his back, as he tightened his arms around you, holding onto you like you would dissolve if he let go. Trying to imprint the feeling of your body in his mind to remember it in the next life.
You cried with him, holding his shaking body against yours. “We can.. we can find a doctor Tommy we can find someone.. we’ll bring you to church Tommy.. we’ll pray.. Polly will pray with us.. I know it..” the words tumbled from your lips, unable to stop yourself as you stroked your fingers through his damp hair.
“I don’t want any of it Tommy. The cars, the fancy clothes, the- bloody house, my jewelry.. I’ll give it all away.. I just need you.. I’ve always only needed you. You’ve always been enough for me.” A painful cry came out of you as you held onto him, needing his support as much as he needed yours.
There was never enough time. Always so many things. Things that end up in land fills, that don’t bear the erosion of time. It was all worth nothing to you now. The one thing that mattered to you most was dying.
He sniffled, letting out a groan and raising his head from your chest and looking at you.
“Y/n..” he whispered, thumbing your face, and making you look at him. “y/n.. look at me..”
“There must be, there must be something we can do Tommy..” your lip trembled as you spoke, placing your hand over his. Your fingertips ran over his knuckles, soothed by the strength of his hands.
His forehead rested against yours, speaking in a low whisper. “These things happen sweetheart. Can’t stop time. Some things we can’t control..” he spoke clearly now, collecting himself and thumbing your cheek.
“You can’t leave Tommy.. you can’t leave me..” you hiccupped tears, swiping your under eyes with your fingertips. “I’m sorry Tommy.. I don’t mean to cry..”
“Shh.. it’s okay love.. I’ve had more time with it.” He soothed, brushing away the wetness with his thumb.
“I can’t do it without you Tommy.. I’m nothing without you. I’ll be half of a person without you Tommy..” you gasped for air, feeling like your head was going to explode from the pressure.
Sensing your distress, he tried to comfort you. “I’m still here sweetheart.. alright? Just breathe with me. I’m still here. We’re together right now. Can you feel my hands on you? My voice whispering in your ear? Eh?” He whispered, smoothing his warm hands down your back.
You nodded, sniffling, feeling your breathing slow.
“There you go.. it’s alright.. it’s alright.. come ‘ere..” his firm hands guided you into his chest with little effort, cradling your quivering frame. He settled his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath and kissing your hair, breathing you in.
“You don’t have to face it alone Tommy.. for Christ’s sake please don’t let your ego win this war.” You whispered against his chest, nudging your head against him. “You need someone to burden this with you and a thousand times I would.”
“I know sweetheart.. I know.. I know..” his familiar, soothing voice vibrated against your ear as he spoke.
“Stay with me Tommy..” you whispered sadly, memorizing the rhythm of his heartbeat, and the soft sounds of his breathing. “Don’t let me go.. please don’t let go..”
He swallowed sadly, tightening his grip around you. “I promise, I’ll stay with you every second love.. I won’t leave you..” he sighed shakily, his pale eyes glazing over with a distant expression, “not yet."
Taglist: @kmc1989 @pacifymebby @shelbydelrey @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings
#thomas shelby#cillian murphy#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby fanfiction#x reader#x you#fanfiction#irish men#irish actors
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“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚
tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby smut#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy smut#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby angst#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders#peaky fookin blinders#peaky blinder imagine#peaky fucking blinders#peaky blinder headcanon#tommy shelby headcanon#tommy shelby fanfic#cillian x reader#cillian x fem!reader#cillian series#cillian smut#cillian one shot#cillian fic#cillian x y/n#cillian murphy#cillian fluff#anna’s boys
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Business and dates
summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with
pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader
word count | 2.30k
genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!
requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.
warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!
author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids.
Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on.
“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone. He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her.
“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes.
“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up.
“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much.
“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt. Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much.
“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke.
Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up.
“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed.
“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels.
“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one.
Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war
“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this”
“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.”
“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.
“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.”
“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”
Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away.
She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came.
The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face.
“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,
“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him.
“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more.
“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.”
“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?”
“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest.
“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time.
“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close.
“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.”
After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left.
The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly.
“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan.
“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada.
“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in.
“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious.
“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered.
"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.”
The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out.
So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas.
“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.
“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man.
“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour.
“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising.
“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison.
She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”
“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face.
The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.”
“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.
“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled.
“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.
“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.”
“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”
“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following.
“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers.
“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes.
The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.”
#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#cillian murphy#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fic#tommy shleby fic#thomas shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby angst#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby peaky blinders#tommy shelby peaky blinders#peaky blinders
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Hi! Can I request Tommy Shelby who loves to spoil his gf and she has a hard time accepting it all but he reassures her in a very loving and protective way (hope you get what I mean lol) thank you! :')
a/n: This is short but I hope I did your idea justice! I just want to see him smile 😭
grand gestures
Thomas Shelby x f!reader
Warnings: Tommy being happy and in love, Tommy’s love language is gift-giving I don’t make the rules, kissing
You had been seeing Thomas Shelby for a while now and he was absolutely smitten. You have never met a man who doted on you as much as he did. Under his hardened exterior was a man longing to love and be loved.
On a particularly cold evening, you arrived home to a surprise. On your bed lay a beautiful new coat you had seen in the shops while out with Tommy. You must have stared at it in the window a little too long. He took that as a sign that you wanted it. You hadn’t even thought to go in and check the price tag, let alone purchase it.
Tommy knew you weren’t used to receiving many gifts so he made it his personal mission to make you comfortable with it. He’d started with a gold bracelet.
You had gasped when he took it out of the small box. “Tommy, you can’t. This is too much.”
“It’s not. Nothing is too much when it comes to you.” It was almost threatening. It sounded like a warning when he said it. It was foolish to underestimate how much you meant to him.
After the bracelet, he began giving you gifts periodically, even things you didn’t need or want. It was difficult for you to understand why he even bothered to give you all those things. Any other woman would welcome new dresses and jewels with open arms. Instead, you just felt like you didn’t deserve it.
You stared at the coat on your bed. Its fur collar was sure to keep you warm, you thought. The gold buttons going down one side shone in the dim light of your bedroom. You held it up and gawked at it. You rubbed your face into the fur and smiled. You didn’t notice, but Tommy was standing in the doorway.
“Why don’t you try it on?” His voice made you jump and you dropped the coat, putting your hands over your heart.
“Jesus, Tommy!” You sighed and laughed. He had been making a habit of being at your home before you were. He usually made himself known somehow, but tonight he decided to be a bit of a prankster.
“Sorry, love, couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, walked towards you, and pulled you in for a kiss. He always kissed you like it was the last time he would be able to.
He pulled away, “Do you like it?”
“I love it, Tommy, but” you looked down at the item of clothing, “you really didn’t have to. Really, you never have to.” You looked back at him and his arms were crossed, his head cocked to the right. He sighed and put his hands on your arms, caressing them.
Looking into your eyes he asked, “Do you love me?”
You replied slightly irritated “I’ve never loved a man more, Tommy, and you know that. I just- I’m not used to you spoiling me like this.”
“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gonna have to get used to it, love. Now, are you my girl?” He was deadly serious. He was never controlling, but you were his and his alone. He wanted to make sure you understood that.
You looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”
His hands held your waist as he pulled you in closer. He kissed you passionately. A small moan escaped. It was intoxicating. After a few moments, you pulled away for air. He put his forehead against yours and gave you a chaste kiss.
“You are worth more than anything I could ever give you. I wish I could give you the world,” he smirked, “the coat is the best I can do for now.”
You smiled softly at him. It would take some more work on your part but you knew that he did it because he cared.
“Thank you, Tommy. I love you.” You gave him a quick kiss.
He pulled away with a smile and said, “I love you, too.”
He reached over to your bed and grabbed the new coat, holding it up for you. You quickly took off your old one and he helped you put your arms through the sleeves of the new one. The inside of the coat felt just as luxurious as the exterior. The fur brushing your neck was comforting and warmed your skin. You stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in your reflection. Tommy stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, holding you flush against him. You turned your head to make eye contact with him.
He whispered, “You look beautiful, my love.”
You had hearts in your eyes, “You make me beautiful, Tommy.”
#annie’s asks#i proofread this but no one is perfect#annie writes#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy fic#peaky blinder fanfic#cillian x reader
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Can we have Thomas Shelby having lactation/breastfeeding kink? The reader is a new mother and her tits are full of milk 🥵
Damn yess, I'm such a sucker for this kind of fics. 🫣😳
Mother
◇ Pairing: Dad!Thomas Shelby X Mom fem!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, lactation kink, breastfeeding, mention of twins, Tommy is pathetic and desperate, past pregnancy, breast milk, cumming.
◇ Summary: Tommy tastes his wife's milk for the first time.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. And for making you wait so long! 🙏
A mother.. that's what she was, with her round, full, heavy breasts that made their little bundles of joy wiggle in excitement every time, Thomas thought.
The mother... of their twins.. theirs. His and hers.
A mother... with her mature curves, her swellings and her glowing self, her soft hips... and her, damn, swollen tits that were now leaking drops of her milk. A milk that should be for their babies... who already were sleeping, milk drunk from their dinner. A milk that was screaming at Tommy to be tasted by him... even if it looked like such a taboo thing to do.
"Tommy" Y/n said firmly, snapping him out of the trance he was in since nearly 5 minutes now.
Her hands were on her hips and a soft pout was adorning her face... the same one that appeared every time he didn't listen to what she said and so he had her repeat things more than once.
"You can taste it if you want" her soft voice informed him as her tensed and scolding language disappeared, giving space to an amused and mocking one. The woman saw how he looked at her since the pregnancy started to change her body... expecially how he looked at her full, painful breasts.
It really was entertaining the way he tried to play it off, pretending he didn't stared at her while she breastfed. Or when the milk started to wet the fabric of her clothes.... expecially her nightgown, in which it was even more noticeable.
"Our little angels already had it and my boobs are aching, still full and... lonely" she murmured softly while crawling closer to her husband, who was sitting on the bed, holding his breath unconsciously.
Tommy looked hesitant, millions of battles kept going on in his head as his heart beat hard against his bare chest. His blood rushed down to his cock as the gorgeous body of his woman positioned itself on his lap and her hands slowly lowered her nightgown to expose more skin at the cold night breeze.
As soon as his baby blue eyes stopped on her breasts now fully on display, his mind stopped struggling and his head moved on its own, attracted by the shiny nipple like a hungry baby. In a split second his lips were wrapped around it and his free hands grabbed her hip and the back of her neck to prevent her from moving as he started to suckle on it.
Her own milk landing on his greedy tongue, causing a low growl to escape his throat. His hips bucked against hers, in search of a relief, almost humping her clothed cunt shamelessly.
Tommy was in his own world, his mouth focused on stealing the warm liquid from his wife as his body got even more aroused by the intimacy of the moment.
He slowed down just when Y/n grabbed his hair, pulling them to warn him silently as his teeth started to brush and tease her abused nipple.
"That's a good body, fuckk... Tommy. Suck it all for mommy" his wife meowed out after taking a deep sigh, her hand still holding his hand close to her chest as her husband feed himself, moving to the other breast as soon as he felt enough satisfied.
She could tell the effect this mere action was doing to her husband, the way his body twitched and he groaned against her skin before starting to suck again... indicated her that he actually just allowed himself to cum in his pajamas pants, too focused on her tits to actually care.
So desperate and pathetic, she thought, but very arousing to watch.
That sure wouldn't be the last time she would let him.
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby imagine#thomas x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x imagine#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby fic#thomas shelby smut#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy fic#cillian murphy smut
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I Love You Always Forever
TOMMY SHELBY X WIFE!READER
Title inspired by the Donna Lewis song!
Thank you so so much for this request sweetheart. My apologies for being late to attend to it, I've been busy :(
THE NEW BARMAID in the Garrison stirred suspicion within Y/N's heart. Her gaze, like an insatiable hunger, fixated on Tommy, her husband, as if he were eye candy. There most definitely is something strange about her, nevertheless, Y/N regarded the interloper as nothing more than a desperate shadow, a woman who couldn't seem to fathom the ropes that bound Y/N and Tommy together.
As the clock struck 4, Tommy, enveloped in a tower of paperwork, leaned back on his chair. The door's creaking intrusion unveiled Y/N, her presence itself a cure to his icy soul.
"It's late, darling," she smiled, a melody in her voice that he craved to hear every second if possible. His icy gaze warmed at her disheveled hair, a white nightgown loosely hanging onto to her frame.
She approached, her legs immediately entwined with his thighs. Straddling him, she clung to him with an urgency akin to a leech seeking blood. "What're you doing, hm? I'm meant to be working..." he murmured, fingers gently weaving through her tousled hair.
"The bed is rather cold without you," she confessed, her eyes pleading. "Come to bed, my dear. There's always another day to catch up on work. For me?" A sigh escaped him, a surrender of her affections, making her eyes light up.
"You're going to be the death of me, woman." he admitted, sealing his words with a peck on her pouted lips.
The next morning, Y/N walked into the Garrison, ever so elegantly. The sight that awaited her made her blood boil. The Irish barmaid, leaning sticking out her bossom to Y/N's husband, served him a glass of whisky.
Suppressing her anger, Y/N approached with a tight lip, catching Tommy's attention. His gaze softened, focused solely on his wife as if she was the only woman on the planet. "Are you alright, love?"
"All good, dear. I was told to deliver a letter." She placed the letter into his lap, claiming a rough kiss.
Y/N rarely displayed such affection, in public of course. Reserving it for when they are home. Tommy welcomed it with no complaints, his eyes closing in pleasure. An irritating voice disrupted the intimacy. "Ahem! This is quite an inappropriate place, Mr. Shelby!"
Silence covers the pub, the tension palpable. Tommy, unyielding, glared at the interloper. "Excuse me? And when exactly did you get a say in what Tommy Shelby can or can't do, eh?"
Cutting off any response, Tommy continued, his eyes burning with authority. "The drinks are on the house. It's about time you learn how things work around here, or you won't be here much longer. You hear me?"
Stifled, she nodded looking close to tears as Tommy led his wife away, leaving a smirking imprint on her face as she looked back.
Y/N spoke softly. "You were rather harsh on her, Tom."
"I know how you feel about her, love. She's nothing compared to you," he assured, cupping her face and sealing his words with a tender kiss to her cheek.
Y/N smiled, turning his palm to place a kiss. "Lead the way home, Mr. Shelby. You're not getting out of bed tonight," she declared with a mischievous grin, their love a puzzle seamlessly fitting together, despite all the complexities they face, they face it together.
#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x reader#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders#tommy shelby fluff#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader
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Hiii love 🩷
Could you please make a reader X Tommy, where you take care of Charlie and he slowly falls in love with the reader. At first he denies it but after sometime he can’t take it anymore !! Fluff and happy ending please
Love your writing by the way ⭐️🩷
Hey Lovelie! Thank you so much for this request and the lovely comment , I’d gladly do this for you!
Italics: flashback.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST THIS ANYWAY ELSE OR TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.
Summery: request above
[Y/N]: Your name
[L/N]: Last name.
Word count: 2,516
Thomas Shelby. The name of the man that you have loved for the past two years. The man you knew would change your life the moment you set foot into his office for an interview to be a live in maid for his young son, charlie.
The blood pumped through your veins, making your head feel like it would burst at any point. You sent an application to Thomas Shelby secretary for the job but you did not expect to get an answer. So when you got a reply asking for an interview less then three days later, the shock that you were in was explainable.
You knock on the door, waiting to hear the voice of the man you were secretly afraid of.
“ come in” the voice vibrates through the atmosphere
You turn the old doorknob then push the door open, gliding your body through the door. The sound of the door creaking made Tommy lift his head up from his paperwork.
The feeling of your world stops as you make eye contact for the first time with the man with the eyes that could kill.
One month into the job
Thomas smiles slightly and takes off his jacket just as Francis rushes over to him.
“Good evening mr Shelby, dinner should be served soon” the middle aged woman explained, taking Thomas jacket gently.
Thomas doesn’t say a word, taking a cigarette out of his pouch from his trouser pocket. He looks towards Francis, lighting the cigarette.
“Where’s my son?” He questioned curiously.
Before tommys maid could respond, Charlie rushes around the corner from the main room “ daddy” he squeals, running towards Tommy.
Thomas kneels down “ Charlie, my boy” he catches Charlie as he jumps into his arms, Thomas stands up with Charlie in his arms.
Soon after, [Y/N] rushes around the corner with a face that can only be described as anxious. Her face was shiny most likely from running after the young boy.
“I am so sorry mr Shelby, i tried to stop him. I know you don’t like to be disrupted after work. I promise, I’ll make sure it won’t happen tomorrow” she rambles, clearly nervous that Thomas would be mad.
“No need to apologise, make sure that he is calm before he goes to bed, don’t want him to be cranky tomorrow” Thomas smirks slightly and gives Charlie over to [Y/N].
She nodded and quickly walks away, Charlie on his hip. Unknowingly, to [Y/N] mr Shelby was watching her with curiosity plaguing his mind.
Three months into the job.
Charlie had gone missing. Someone had taken him when Tommy was distracted with the guests, during a work event, he hadn’t noticed his young son being carried out through the door by a woman that passed as a maid.
Three hours had passed since [Y/N] had seen the young boy, she was nervously pacing the house, biting her already broken and fragile nails. An anxious trait she’s had since she was a young girl.
The sound of the front door rattling invaded the already chaotic atmosphere of the manor. The banging of doors signalled that Tommy was in his “beast mode”. This is when Tommy is on a mission and if you get in his way, you’ll most likely land with a bullet between your eyes. However, that hadn’t stopped The young maid. [Y/N] opened the door of Charlie’s room and begins to rush her sore feet towards the grand stairs.
“ mr Shelby” she calls out “ oh mr Shelby, is young Charlie been found” she asks, her voice full of worry.
[Y/N] stops her running when she sees the distressed young boy in his father’s arms, nearly making herself fall from the suddenness of the movement.
“ Francis take Charles” Thomas orders sternly, passing him over to his only trusted maid from that moment on.
The older maid nods and takes Charlie, taking the toddler upstairs. The air is so brittle, from the tension, it could snap. If it doesn’t, [Y/N] might. No one speaks, what is there to say?. [Y/N] could feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over her. Perhaps it was only there to protect her but there really isn’t any danger to be protected from. It sits there like an angry ball, propelling [Y/N] towards an anxiety she doesn’t need.
“ where were you miss [L/N]” Tommy questions, accusation filling his voice. His eyes could kill anyone. Those eyes are ocean-strong, swimming with warm sun-lit currents.
[Y/N] gulps, her throat feeling as if it was closing in on it self. Her mouth parts slightly but no words come out. Eventually, words were able to escape.
“ I’m so sorry mr Shelby, I looked away from him for one second, he wanted me to get his toy horse that he dropped, I gave him to another woman, she was dressed in a maids uniform” she explains, her eyes filling with unreleased tears.
Tommy sighs, watching as the young maid clearly showing signs of distress.
“ go back to work” the older man states, passing Charlie back over to [Y/N].
The young maid immediately takes Charlie into her arms, using one of her hands to wipe under her eyes “ of course mr Shelby” she nods.
As [Y/N] walks away, Tommy speaks up again “ have you had dinner miss [L/N]”.
“ no I have not mr.Shelby” [Y/N] replies, turning back around by the stairs, Charlie playing with her short hair.
Tommy nods “ after you put Charlie to bed, come to the kitchen, there will be food there for you” the older man announces, walking down the corridor towards the door leading to the kitchen.
As the months pass, Tommy and [Y/N] work relationship shifted, everybody can see it has except for the pair in question.
However, Tommy wouldn’t admit it. He still feels like he is in love with his deceased wife grace, he can’t get himself to move on. On the other hand, [Y/N] knew of her feelings towards her boss, who wouldn’t? Especially when you boss looks like Thomas fucking Shelby.
Present day
Over the past years that [Y/N] has worked for Tommy, she had gotten close to the women of the Shelby family, mainly polly. When [Y/N] wasn’t working, she was with polly.
Today was one of those days. Today, [Y/N] was helping polly with the books at the Shelby company betting shop. Tommy had given her the next few days off since she had worked for two weeks straight since Charlie was poorly with a fever.
“ fucking men” Polly grumbles, slamming down the book full of incorrect numbers and calculations.
[Y/N] chuckles from across the room as she corrects Arthur’s calculations “ men never cease to amaze you, do they pol?” She raises an eyebrow.
Polly lights her cigarette, taking a long inhale of the hazardous smoke “we are working our asses off whilst the men sit on theirs at the pub, getting god knows how drunk” the middled aged women rants, pointing to the door.
Polly smirks as she stands up “ come on, let’s go” Polly encourages, grabbing her purse.
[Y/N] frowns, dropping her pencil “ where are you going lol?” She asks confused but her eyes full of wonder at what Polly was planning.
“ I know a woman who knows a woman, she told me that the ladies of small heath are going out on strike, by the factories” Polly places her deep red hat on her curly brown hair as she raises an eyebrow at [Y/N].
The younger woman laughs “ you can’t be serious pol, Tommy would have your head” she warns.
“ not if he won’t find me” Polly puts her coat on.
[Y/N] bites her lip, she was conflicted. Her brain turns and twists as she argues with herself internally but eventually, only one side of her could win.
[Y/N] nods “ fuck em” she stands up “ I worked two weeks with his sick child and nothing but a thanks and a few days off work” [Y/N] rants, grabbing her coat.
Polly watches “ that’s my girl”.
Once the two woman get their stuff together, they walk out of the betting shop, Polly placing her sunglasses on her face, the women ignoring the men outside of the betting shop.
[Y/N] chuckles as she links her arm with pollys as they walk together towards the factories to join the woman of small heath.
The garrison pub
The Shelby men sat inside of their private corner room, celebrating Arthur’s recent news of Linda’s pregnancy. What they didn’t expect was another member of the blinders to come in and announce the women’s strike.
Tommy was about to make a speech when the door opens. A young man taking off his cap quickly catches his breath.
“ I’m sorry to disturb you mr Shelby, but I’ve just got word that mrs gray and miss [L/N} have walked out of the shop, claiming that they are striking for women’s rights in the work place” he explains.
Tommy raises an eyebrow, Arthur immediately standing up “ they what?” His drunken voice ripples through the small private room and into the main area of the pub.
Tommy holds his hand out to his brother “ now brother, this will be sorted” he stands up and grabs his cap, immediately following the younger member out of the pub, and towards where his aunt and his maid were currently causing chaos.
The Factories
The sound of the women cheering and chanting blocked the ability for [Y/N] ears to identity the sound of Tommy’s feet but as soon as his hand wrapped its self around her arm, she knew who it was and she knew she was in deep trouble.
Tommy’s breath sends goosebumps down her back as he leans down to speak into her ear “ come with me. Now” his voice quiet but clearly filled with demand.
[Y/N] didn’t say anything, her feet moving themselves in the direction that Tommy was guiding her. As they get further and further away from the other women, the noise of the chaos was slowly fading out.
“ Tommy, tommy please listen” [Y/N] began to protest but Tommy quickly cuts in.
“ what were you thinking [Y/N]. Do you know what this can do to the company” he states, letting go of her arm.
“ it’s not that serious tommy, me and pol weren’t protesting we were just watching” [Y/N] defends herself.
Tommy was about to respond when the sound of the police invading the strike, and women screaming as they get arrested. [Y/N] gasps as she gets shoved onto the floor, the wet gravel of small heaths pavements make contact with her hands. Small but painful cuts develop on her palms.
“ watch it” tommy yells at the woman that shoved [Y/N], clearly trying to run from the police.
“ I’m okay” [Y/N] reassures Tommy as she gently grabs his hand and stands up, Tommy patting down her dress since it had got mudded by the mud puddle on the path.
“ let’s go” Tommy grabs her hand and begins to pace to the garrison, away from the chaos. [Y/N]’s cheeks rise in temperature when she realises that tommys warm hand had engulfed her own. This is the kind of blushing that shows her soul, a compliment to the eyes and having a delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, it shows that the smile and shyness comes from deep emotions. Her blush is beautiful and something real.
The garrison pub.
The pub was quiet, the occasionally laugh or the occasional cough fills the deadly silence since the moment Tommy stormed out of the pub to find [Y/N].
Tommy guides [Y/N] towards the small corner room, his hand hovering on the small of her back, however the heat still penetrates through her dress and onto her skin.
[Y/N] smiles as she walks into the room, taking her coat off slowly “ thank you Tommy” she graciously sits on one of the seats, placing her purse onto the table.
Tommy watches her as he sits at his usual seat, once again taking a cigarette from his metal holder “ would you like a drink?” He asks gruffly.
“ no thank you, I don’t drink” [Y/N] admits.
Thomas raises an eyebrow “ don’t drink ey, what maid of mine doesn’t drink” he teases.
“ the maid that looks after your infant son” she jokes back.
Thomas lights the cigarette “ my son likes you miss [L/N]” he admits, raising an eyebrow.
[Y/N] smiles, looking down at her dress skirt for a few seconds before looking up towards Tommy. She had the kind of eyes that reach out to Tommy, much like a baby reaching out with open arms, clearly signaling what she wants.
“ do you have a husband miss [L/N]” Tommy takes a long inhale of the hazardous smoke for what seems like the hundredth time that day.
“ please, call me [Y/N], and no I don’t have a husband nor a partner” she admits, her bottom lip sucking in between her teeth every so slowly. Tommy immediately looking down at the movement. Her lips were as good as her eyes in painting a picture of her emotion.
“ come here” Tommy whispers, placing the cigarette into the ash tray, just in time for [ Y/N] to arrive infront of Tommy.
The older man, places his hands onto her hips gently,his thumbs rubbing her in a rhythm, the smoke from the cigarette slowly evaporating between the two.
[Y/N] places her hands onto tommys shoulders “ this is inappropriate Tommy” she whispers, her voice as delicate as silk.
“ everything in my life is inappropriate” tommy points out, gently pulling [Y/N} into his lap, their eyes making close contact for the first time.
They both saw fire within each others eyes, she moved so close Tommy could feel her lips gliding over his own “ one time” she whispers “ one time is alright” she tries to reassure herself.
As soon as those four words left her mouth, Tommy connects their lips, in this kiss there was a sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. [Y/N]’s heart skips a beat, as their lips glide together, making their own secret music. This kiss dissolves and releases any doubt within [Y/N]’s mind.
Tommys mouth parts ever so slightly, his tongue teasing then parting her own lips, wanting to savour her sweetness. A soft moan escapes her as she tastes Tommy in return.
Feeling as though she was burning in overwhelming passion, [Y/N] ripped her mouth away. Both gasping for air. Tommy presses his forehead against hers as [Y/N] runs her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
After a few minutes, Tommy lifts his head, placing his hand on her cheek. A slient communication passes through them. They both knew love was their sun, night and day.
They knew they were each others saviours.
A/N: hey again!
So sorry this took so long, my life has been extremely hectic but I’ve finished it and I hope you like it.
Please leave, a like, comment, reblog. All is appreciated so much! ❤️

#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby imagines#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders masterlist#tommy shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fandom#peaky blinders x reader#tommy shelby#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby x reader
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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
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby peaky blinder#tommy peaky blinders#peaky blinders tommy#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x f!reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby drabble#tommy shelby one shot#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x y/n#peaky blinders#peaky blinders x reader#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ♡
In a world where trust is earned and betrayal met with swift and ruthless consequences, you'll do anything to protect your family, even if that means you'll have to do the unthinkable, marrying the criminal kingpin of Birmingham, Thomas Shelby.
Tommy Shelby x reader || Series playlist || Main masterlist
Chapter 1 Family Business coming soon
Chapter 2 Long Live The King
Chapter 3 Peonies and Razorblades
More chapters to come
#springtyme writes#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby x fem!reader#tommy shelby x f!reader#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x you#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x y/n#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fandom#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby angst#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fanfic#cillain murphy fandom#cillain murphy fanfic#cillain murphy characters#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders#tommy shelby x afab!reader
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Scaredy Cat | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader
Summary: your boyfriend and your cat don't get along, they hate each other. When you have to travel for work and there is no one else to take care of your cat except for Tommy, you can't help but worry. What will you find when you return?
Warning: mentions of past animal abuse (not anymore), the cat gets sick, Tommy swears as usual, etc. If some of this might trigger you, don't read. There are mentions of smut but no real smut.
A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!
Peaky Blinders Masterlist - Cillian Murphy Masterlist
Tommy was very good with horses. Sometimes, just to tease him, you liked to call him 'Horse Whisperer Tommy'. He didn't find it funny at all. The truth is that he didn't get along so well with cats.
At least, this man was incapable of getting along with yours. And it was funny because most of the time he reminded you of an angry cat himself, the rest of the time too, being honest. Sometimes, when you were on the couch watching a movie with Tommy lying on your chest and you scratched the back of his head right where his hair was shorter, you would swear you could hear him purring, melting under your touch.
Your cat liked to make things difficult. The first time Tommy stayed over at your house, the cat took the space on the bed between the two of you, making it clear which was her territory and that you were hers. Every time he tried to get closer to you he was met with an outstretched paw that pushed him to the opposite side of the bed. You thought it was funny, he not so much. When you woke up you found Tommy's suit jacket full of orange hairs, crumpled on the floor. To this day the jacket still had traces of cat hair.
Moreover, how could you forget the day when Tommy was working on his laptop from your house and the cat bit the corner of the screen? Needless to say, Tommy couldn't continue working on whatever he was doing, which pissed him off so much, because the device stopped working. Your cat spent the rest of the day with a satisfied expression on her round face.
The rest of the time, the poor creature just hissed at Tommy every time she saw him. Eventually, she ended up accepting that neither of them were going to disappear from your life. At least you hoped it wouldn't happen in a long time.
From the bedroom you heard your boyfriend talking, his deep voice too low to understand his words. You assumed that he would be talking on the phone, always busy with work, even in his sleep he kept mumbling meaningless phrases.
You headed to the kitchen, after a long day at work you couldn't wait any longer to have dinner. Your cat appeared out of nowhere and began to walk between your legs, creating infinity shapes and wrapping her long tail around your calf. You bent down to scratch her belly when she leaned on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.
"You're so cute," you said in a childish voice, earning a sideways glance from Thomas, full of resentment.
"Cute my balls," he spat.
The cat looked at you with her eyes wide open, as if she were asking you ‘did you hear what he said?’ You jumped to your feet and put your hands on your hips, looking at Tommy with a raised eyebrow. "May I know what's the matter with you?"
“Your cat, Y/N,” he muttered, turning to you with his hand in front of his face. On the back of it was a deep cut, no, it was a scratch. "Look what the evil’s spawn has done to me."
You glanced at the cat one last time, she looked back at you and licked her paw innocently. Letting out a sigh, you took Tommy's hand in yours to inspect the wound.
"What have you done to make her do this?" you asked cautiously.
He responded with a huff. "Nothing. She came out of nowhere and jumped at me with her claws out."
You nodded in silence and began to disinfect his hand. Your cat was like that, she didn't like men. Actually, she only liked you. Sometimes you wondered if her bad attitude was due to her previous owners, who didn't treat her very well. The thought of someone mistreating your cat filled you with sadness as well as anger. Fucking bastards.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, to him and to her, a tinge of sadness in your voice which didn't go unnoticed to Tommy.
When you finished covering his scratch with a bandaid, Tommy grabbed you hand in his and gave it a loving squeeze before continuing placing the food on the dinner table.
-
You had always liked animals, when you were little you weren’t allowed to have pets because your brother was allergic to them. So, the moment you got a job in the city and moved out on your own, the first thing you did was go to the nearest shelter to adopt a kitten.
That was the initial idea, to bring a small cat home and raise it. However, when you saw the sad eyes of the orange cat watching you from inside her cubicle, you had the feeling that you were predestined to end up together. She was already an adult cat at that time but that didn't matter to you.
At the shelter they briefly told you that her former owners, whoever they were, had mistreated her and left her abandoned, half dead in a garbage can. A homeless man searching through the trash found her and took her there, where she was taken care of until she luckily recovered. You couldn't be more grateful to that stranger who cared enough to rescue her. Unfortunately, two years had passed since then and no one had wanted to adopt her.
She instantly won your heart. You took her home and named her Cat, like Holly Golightly's cat in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Plus, both of them looked alike. Of course, Tommy complained that it was a ridiculous name for a cat, similar as if he called one of his horses Horse.
-
A couple of weeks after the scratching incident with Tommy, you were notified that you had to travel to another city for a week on behalf of the company you worked for, which was great because it gave you the opportunity to explore new places. The disadvantage was that your cat was old and had to take a pill every day, for life. You didn't trust anyone to leave them in charge of such a task, but not going on the company trip would mean losing the opportunity to receive a promotion in the coming months. You didn't know what to do but you had an idea.
That night Tommy was going to visit you, so you would make him a suggestion.
After having dinner, Tommy and you started kissing passionately. Everything with him was very intense. His warm, calloused hands ran along your sides under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps over your soft skin. Your fingertips scratched the shaved sides of his hair and he let out a moan, pressing his lips harder against yours, never breaking the contact.
You were starting to feel his bulge growing against your crotch, so you moved your hips against him, enjoying the friction. Now you were the one who let out a moan of pleasure.
“Fuck,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck as he panted. "Can't you make her leave, or at least make her stop staring at me like that?"
You looked at him slightly confused, following his gaze to the cardboard box where Cat was lying with her head resting on the edge of it, watching you without blinking. It didn't matter how many beds you bought her, none could beat the cardboard box. Rolling your eyes, you placed a hand on your boyfriend's face and caressed his sharp cheekbone, trying to get him to focus on you again.
"Just ignore her. Look at me," you said softly, kissing his jaw.
Tommy pulled away from you and sat on the sofa, running a hand over his face. "I can't, love. She's looking at me, killing my mood." He shrugged, looking sick.
You sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any possibility of Tommy fucking the hell out of you. "How bold she is, daring to look down on the great Thomas Michael Shelby."
He gave you a wide eyed look before frowning. "Are you making fun of me? Hey, where do you think you're going? Taking the beast to another room?"
"I'm going to get some water."
Once in the kitchen you took a couple of deep breaths, gathering the courage to talk to him. It was your opportunity to convince him to stay with Cat. You returned to the living room and sat next to him, crossing your legs on the sofa.
"Tommy, do you remember my work trip?"
He looked at you with a blank face for a few seconds until a spark of knowledge shone at the back of his eyes. "Yes, you're going away for a week. Is that right?"
You nodded, biting your lip. "Can I ask you a favor?"
His expression changed to one of suspicion. Usually you didn't ask for things, you didn't hesitate, so he knew you were about to ask him to do something he wouldn't like.
"It depends".
"You have to come in the morning to feed Cat, but not too much because she eats it all and gets sick," Tommy opened his mouth to complain but you were faster, placing the palm of your hand over his lips before continuing. "At night you come back and give her the pill with a bit of soft food, you have to pay attention and make sure she has swallowed it, okay? Also, change her water, because when she has it for more than a day she won’t drink it."
He gave you a small kiss on the palm of your hand. You removed it and looked at him through your lashes, expectantly.
"Anything else?" he asked, feigning boredom. You smiled. It had been very easy, you hadn't even had to convince him.
"Yes! You have to clean up her cat litter."
-
The day of your trip, you left everything ready so that when he arrived at night, Tommy would find things easily.
He opened your apartment door and stuck his head in doubtfully, there was no sign of the furry little beast. He was having flashbacks to the last time he stayed over, when Cat started running around the house making weird noises as if she was possessed by Satan himself. Tommy still felt chills remembering how the cat jumped into the bedroom moving sideways with her tail twisted while she howled. You couldn’t stop laughing, used to see your cat doing that almost every day, but Tommy kept saying that he witnessed a demonic possession that night.
But at that moment there were no howls or strange noises. In fact, everything was quiet. One of those silences that he had experienced so many times in his life before. The kind of silence that does not bode well. Tommy squared his shoulders, he wasn't going to get carried away by his superstitious ideas. It was just a cat. He would come in, give her the pill and some water, and then he would leave. Fast and clean.
As he approached the corner where the hallway turned to the left at a ninety-degree angle he stopped. Your cat liked to hide there before jumping like a lion hunting for its prey on Tommy's legs. He still had the scar from the last bite, he didn't want to take another one.
This time he was prepared. With a quick movement he stood on the next section of the hallway. But there was nothing. Frowning and feeling a bit ridiculous, Tommy walked through the house looking for the little beast until he found her lying on the sofa.
The cat was curled up in a ball, her head resting on the armrest. Only her green eyes moved following Tommy's movements as he approached her. She seemed kind of off and Tommy couldn't help but feel a tinge of empathy.
“Do you miss Y/N too?” he asked out loud. The cat blinked weakly. "This place feels weird without her around, huh?"
Tommy didn't know what to expect, some kind of reaction or something. The cat remained still, staring at the wall. He gave her one last glance, shrugging and heading to the kitchen. You had placed a note on the refrigerator door with more instructions, attached with a magnet in a miniature version of the Eiffel Tower that Tommy brought you from Paris.
He ran his fingertips over your handwriting, thinking. He was going to take you to France the next time you had holidays. The rest of the refrigerator was covered with polaroids of you smiling at the camera, the two of you together, you with your friends and family... and the cat.
'Ah yes, the cat.' Tommy remembered, turning around.
The food and water bowls were full, as if she hadn't touched them all day. That was strange, the feeling of something not going right increased. Grabbing a clean bowl, Tommy put some soft food in it and inserted the pill, completely camouflaged, before placing it on the floor in front of the sofa.
"Eat," he indicated authoritatively.
He was a man used to being obeyed in everything, everyone did except you. You were the only one who could handle him like a rag doll and he wouldn’t complain. There was no doubt that this cat was yours, she didn't even look at the food.
Tommy grunted, losing his patience. He grabbed the bowl with one hand and the cat with the other, pushing them together as much as he could. The animal did not resist, after a few minutes a third of the food was gone, including the pill, but she refused to swallow more. "As you wish," he murmured, leaving the remains of food next to the other bowls.
When he looked into the small laundry room where you had the cat's litter box, his heart skipped a beat. Everything was a mess, the floor was full of poop and vomit.
"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath. Then he returned to the living room, ready to give the cat the reprimand of her life but stopped short. He hadn't noticed before but there were also traces of vomit on the living room floor. "Shit."
Just then his phone started ringing. Your name appeared on the screen. He cleared his throat and answered.
"Hello Tommy" your voice sounded happy although somewhat tired. "How are you doing, honey?"
"Good. I gave the pill to the beast, don't worry. Are you okay?" He spoke as fast as he could, trying to move the conversation away from the cat.
"Yeah, it's a little boring you know, all day in meetings and now they want to go to have dinner but I don't feel like going. I haven't been able to call you all day, as you can see I haven't stopped.” You let out a small laugh. ”Hey Tommy, thanks for taking care of Cat. It means a lot to me. I have to go, they came to pick me up. I love you!"
You hung up the call before he could say anything back. Leaving the phone on the coffee table, he walked into the balcony, feeling the cold wind against his skin.
Tommy leaned on the balustrade as he lit a cigarette, smoking slowly. You didn’t like him smoking inside the house, or smoking in general, but that was his problem and you couldn’t change it. This way the balcony became his territory. Once he finished, he went back inside, closing the door behind him. The last thing he needed was the cat jumping out the window.
He started cleaning everything the best he could while debating whether to call you again and tell you everything, that something was wrong with your cat, or try to fix it on his own. Yes, he would do that better. Tommy was a man of resources, he wasn't going to ruin your trip and worry you if he could take care of it.
After making sure everything was clean and the cat had food and water, he left your house, relieved that he wouldn't have to spend another second alone with that animal.
-
When he returned the next day and found both the food and water intact, he headed to the living room, where Cat was still lying in the same position as the day before. He felt his soul leaving his body.
Tommy swallowed and sat on the couch next to the cat. He approached his hand slowly to touch her soft fur, expecting the cat to hiss like she always did when he got too close to her. That would mean everything was fine. But that didn’t happen, the feline's only reaction was shuddering and letting out a pitiful whimper so soft that if he hadn't been sitting next to her, Tommy wouldn't have heard it.
Shit, shit, shit. He covered his mouth with his hand, his brain working at maximum power. He had to do something. Being aware of how important that cat was to you, if something bad happened to her... he didn't even want to imagine your reaction.
Without wasting another second, he dialed May Carleton’s number, the veterinarian who sometimes treated his horses. After explaining the situation, she told him to bring Cat into the clinic to take a look at her. Tommy picked up the cat in his arms, wrapped in a blanket, and held her to his chest like one does when cradling a baby. The poor thing let him do it, too weak to complain.
The drive from your house to the clinic was frantic, Tommy drove like a madman and once there he skipped the line in the waiting room, entering directly and leaving the bundle on the metal table. "Thomas, you can't sneak in like this," said May while putting on a pair of clean latex gloves.
"It's an emergency," he said, pointing to the metal table.
The vet's expression changed from annoyance to concern the moment she laid her eyes on the poor creature. "Okay, Thomas. I'll take over from here, why don't you wait outside?"
It turned out that she had eaten some plant that's poisonous to cats. This had caused her intestine and some other organs to inflame, or something like that. At least they had discovered it in time to help her.
The first thing Tommy did when he got back to your apartment was throwing away all the plants. The second thing was not taking his blue eyes off from Cat for a minute during the next three days.
-
At the end of the week you couldn’t wait any longer to go back home. You called Tommy several times but he didn't pick up the phone. Every time you had talked to him in the past few days he always told you that everything was going great. You had a hard time believing it. In about twenty minutes you’ll be home and you could finally hug your baby Cat and take a shower, in that order.
You stopped at the entrance of your home, leaving the suitcase and your shoes next to Tommy’s. He's here after all, you thought. The lights were off, all of them except for the one in the living room. You walked towards there and what you saw made your heart fill with love.
Tommy was on the sofa, fast asleep. Curled against his side was Cat, sleeping too. She was holding Tommy’s hand between her paws. You covered your mouth with your hand, hiding your smile. They were too adorable. Never had you thought the day in which the two of them could get along would come. Seeing them sleeping together seemed like a dream.
You took your phone and started taking pictures of them. The next week you would print one to put it on your fridge door, a new moment to remember.
#tommy shelby#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x y/n#modern!tommy shelby#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby one shot#tommy shelby fluff#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders au#peaky blinders modern!au#modern!au#soleilceirinen writes
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Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby
masterlist
summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu
pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby
words: 1.6k
a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)
How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.
‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.
‘Please tell me you are joking…’
‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.
‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.
��Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’
‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’
‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’
‘You too.’
Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.
Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.
‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’
‘No.’
‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.
Helena hummed in response.
‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’
‘I do.’
‘Something else perhaps?’
‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’
‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’
Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’
‘And did you?’
‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’
‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.
‘I like chocolate.’
‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’
‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’
‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’
Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.
‘What about your father, Helena?’
‘What about him?’
‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.
Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’
‘Why not?’
‘Family business…’
‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’
‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’
‘How sweet.’
With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.
With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.
‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.
Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’
Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.
‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’
‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’
The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.
‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’
The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.
You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.
‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.
‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’
‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.
‘Sometimes.’
‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’
Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…
‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’
‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.
‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’
Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’
‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.
‘Thank you again.’
‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’
‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’
‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’
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Kinktober 2023 - Day 4
NSFW Alphabet with Tommy Shelby
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Tommy has a bit of a learning curve, but he's not terrible. If you need a glass of water, he'll grab you one, and he'll help you clean yourselves up. He'll hold you, but he doesn't really cuddle with you until he has started really falling for you. Then he starts to let his guard down and really shows you what he's feeling, which helps him know how you're feeling. After that, he is much softer after sex, almost starting to anticipate what you need before you even tell him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
For him, it's your waist. He loves holding onto you. Especially at home when it's just the two of you. No matter how big or small you are, he thinks your waist is the absolute perfect size for him to wrap his arms around. In particular, he loves hugging you from behind and wrapping his arms around you while setting his chin on your shoulder. At night, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him like you're his own personal security blanket. Basically, he feels much happier and relaxed when he has a hold of your waist.
For you, it's a tie between his beautiful full lips and his incredible blue eyes. They are both so striking, and both make you weak in the knees. His eyes render you speechless sometimes. If you catch him staring at you across the room, you almost feel stuck in place. Like his eyes are boring into your flesh as he watches you. His lips are just so insanely kissable. Like, really, how are you not kissing him 24 hours a day? They're even harder to resist when he gets that pout on his face. You've never seen a man with such full pretty lips, and you don't think you will ever find one prettier than Tommy. His lips are also just as soft as they look.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He wants to cum inside you all the time. He's not a huge fan of cumming on your body or face, but he will if you ask. He does like you to swallow if you give him a blow job. He loves the idea that when he cums in you he's marking you as his. We know that Tommy is very possessive and the primal urge to fill you up is strong. If you have a quickie or something at the office or a party you will be walking around with his cum dripping out of you either into your panties or down your thighs. Basically he just loves filling you up and the idea that he might knock you up makes it extra hot for him. Creampie and breeding kinks for sure! You may end up with lots of kids and/or pregnancy scares.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He can actually be incredibly romantic. It's just something he hides from most of the world now. You are the exception. He likes surprising you with all sorts of gifts, and behind closed doors can be a very touchy feely, almost sometimes verging on clingy. He loves to kiss and nuzzle into your neck. He also likes surprising you by setting the mood with lots of candles and wine. You have suspicions that Tommy was more openly romantic before his experience in the war. Polly has told you he more openly wore his heart on his sleeve back then. That that Tommy is the one that never came back from France. Maybe the romantic gestures are a look at the boy he used to be, and the man still hiding in there behind the scars and tough facade.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Let's be honest here, Tommy is a bit of a hoe. He's been around the block more than a few times. Good news for you is that that means he definitely knows what he's doing. He has a little bit of short man syndrome. He takes pride in being able to please you. Sex with Tommy isn't over until both of you have cum at least once. Preferably multiple times. His goal is to have you screaming his name every time he fucks you. He also wants to prove his faithfulness to you by making you cum every chance he gets. His cock belongs to you and no one else. You are his ride or die and he wants to make sure you know it.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary, mating press, and cowgirl. Tommy is big on eye contact, so positions where he can see and watch your face are his favorites. He wants to watch your face contort in pleasure as he fucks you senseless. He wants to kiss and bite at your lips and neck. He'll whisper sweet and filthy things to you as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, your nails raking down his back and your legs around his waist trying to pull him even deeper inside you. He also likes to hold your hands with your fingers interlaced while he brings you to climax. If he's feeling overwhelmed he wants you to ride him. He likes laying back and watching you bounce on his cock. Torn between watching your face, your tits bouncing, or your wet cunt swallowing his cock. His hands resting on your hips, helping you set your pace. When he gets close he'll start thrusting up from underneath you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Tommy is never goofy. Like ever. He may make a sassy smartass or comment during sex just to wind you up, but that's about as humorous as he gets during your sexy times. He's more sarcastic and dry humor than 'haha' funny the majority of the time, and this is no different. Usually, though, sex with Tommy is a serious affair.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He definitely trims regularly. Appearance is clearly important to him, and that includes below the belt, even if it's only you and him that see it. He would probably expect the same of you unless you were very pregnant or post birth, or other times when it just wouldn't be feasible. He appreciates a bit of hair and wouldn't want you bare. He wants you to look like a woman. He wouldn't shame you for not trimming or anything, but he might tell you how much he likes going down on you right after you clean things up a little. Tell you how much more he can feel you and how wet you get when your hair is shorter.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Tommy can be very intimate and intense. It's just the way he is, but it does make for some truly mind-blowing sex. He loves making eye contact and holding hands with you while he's fucking you. He pays such close attention to how your body reacts to him. Every little moan and whimper from your lips telling him exactly how you're feeling in the moment. When he's on top he keeps his face close to yours or buries his face in your neck. Biting and nipping at your skin and whispering in a low voice how incredible you feel and how good you are being for him. All of his intensity has given you some truly Earth shattering orgasms and you are sure it won't be changing anytime soon.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He'd rather have sex with you than jerk off, but he actually does it more now than he used to. You were very adamant when you fot together that infidelity was something you would not tolerate, and he knew you were serious, so he doesn't even want to be tempted. So if you aren't around and he is even a little bit horny, he will take matters into his own hands. He thinks about you when he jerks off. Replaying your past encounters or imagining what he wants to do to you next time he gets a hold of you. He still had plenty of energy, and cum, left for you though. In fact, if he could have it his way, you two would probably never leave the bedroom and he would always be able to have you instead of his own hand.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Breeding kink to the max. This man loves the idea of getting you pregnant. What better way to show that you belong to him than having you waddling around carrying his baby and having a whole brode of children with you? He will tell you over and over how much he loves filling you up with his cum and how bad he wants to breed you. If you ask him to breed you he will turn downright feral and start pounding into you. Even if you already have several little Shelby's running around, Tommy is always willing to risk another if he can watch his cum leaking out of you.
He also has a bit of a sir kink. He's usually a bit more dominant in the bedroom, and if he's feeling really dominant, he wants you to call him sir or even Mr. Shelby, pretending you are one of the maids or a nanny if he's feeling a bit kinky. He loves the idea that you are at his command. His good girl who is oh so well behaved for him. Of course, if you forget and call him Tommy or a pet name, he may have to punish you. You'll need to apologize after your spanking, and then he'll happily finger you while you're still draped over his lap.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
If it's a quickie, all he needs is a quiet place, but for your longer sessions, he prefers you large shared bed. There's lots of space for him to get you in any position he wants, and the two of you usually do end up all over the bed. He's also much more relaxed in your shared bedroom at Arrow House. He knows it's safe to really let his guard down. He becomes the Tommy Shelby that only you get to see. There's no one to interrupt and nothing to distract either of you. Behind those heavy wooden doors and in those silk sheets, it is just you and him. Sometimes, it almost feels like the world around you stops once he closes those doors. You wish it could be that way all the time.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Occasionally, his motivation will be an attempt to clear his mind. Using sex as a way of trying to relieve stress, frustration, and anger. This is especially true if he drags you away for a quickie. He also gets incredibly turned on by knowing that you are his and his alone. If you've been at a party or event and were oblivious to how many other men were eye fucking you, instead spending the entire time snuggled into his side and hanging onto his arm making it known you only have eyes for Tommy, he will barely be able to control himself on the drive home. You are his port in a storm and on any given night you are all the motivation he needs to get going and want to fuck you into the mattress.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
You are his property, and the only way another man will ever touch you again is over his cold, dead body. He may tease you with the threat of fucking you in front of a whole room of people. Or if a man is flirting with you he'll ask you if he should invite the man to watch him make you scream for his cock. That way there is not even an inkling of confusion about who you belong to. All of those are just threats though. No man other than him and maybe a medical professional will ever see you naked again, let alone touch you, and even the doctor will have a little conversation with Tommy about not touching or staring unless it's absolutely necessary. He even gets a little jealous when you dance with Arthur or John. If their hands slip a little too low on your back grazing your ass or he catches them ogling your tits he'll be cutting in with a sharp glare. Even Finn and Michael are not immune to his jealous glares even though he knows they are both far too young for you to think of in that way.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Tommy likes to both give and receive. He will never say no to a blow job. He absolutely loves to call you into his study if he's having a long stressful day and asking you to help him relax. Nothing makes him feel better than your mouth swallowing him down. Well maybe your cunt, but your mouth is a very close 2nd. He also loves how you fall apart for him when he eats your pussy. How you grip his hair when he licks at you and the way you start to whimper when he sucks on your clit. He will never get tired of the way your body shakes and you cry out his name as you cum in his mouth. You taste like the most incredible wine he's ever tasted. You're intoxicating and he will happily drink down every drop you will give him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Quickies are always fast and rough, but usually, Tommy prefers to be slow and sensual. He loves to take his time. Thrusting into you almost painfully slowly at first. He wants you to feel every inch of his cock as it stretches you. He wants to make you whine and moan for him. He will wait until you are begging him to go faster before he finally starts to speed up. Even then his thrusts stay controlled and deep. He loves making eye contact, kissing you, and talking to you during sex. So a slower pace allows him to do all of those things. He does get a little rougher and faster when he's close to cumming, but even then it's sensual.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Usually, if he wants a quickie, it's to relieve stress or frustration. They are usually rough and fast. You both stay mostly clothed. If he's having a particularly rough day, he may hang onto your panties as a sort of stress toy for the rest of the day. They usually happen on or over his desk or against a wall. Quickies are not necessarily his favorite thing, but they are a much better way to let out frustration than drinking or yelling. He prefers to have lots of time with you. He wants you completely naked and making all those beautiful noises for him. That's his least favorite part about quickies. That you usually have to be quiet. He wants to hear you moan and beg for him.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He takes calculated risks, both in business and in the bedroom. He is willing to try lots of things. Want to try a new position? He's down. Want to have sex on the dining room table? He'll give Frances the night off. Want him to spank you a little? All you have to do is ask. What he doesn't take risks with is your safety. It may seem like he's being possessive or controlling. Wanting to know who you are going out with or not letting you out of his sight at the races, but he does it for your safety. The same translates to the bedroom. He won't do anything that could really harm you. The farthest he will go is a bit of choking. With that, he's interested in playing with both giving and receiving.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can go for hours and is usually good for at least two rounds. Especially if there's a few hours in between. A naughty romp before going to sleep and then another round right when you wake up is the perfect timing for him. Even if you are only down for one round, he will make sure it lasts. He is not a minute man by any means. He will take his time with foreplay beforehand. Taking his time touching and undressing you before he even tries to put his cock inside you. He will stop fucking you if he feels like he's getting too close and start eating eating your pussy. Then after he makes you cum he'll go right back to fucking you. He will make sure you are both satisfied and worn out once you are done.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Obviously, toys weren't a big thing then. In fact vibrators were only just being invented, and that was as a treatment for hysteria. However, if toys were more common, I feel like Tommy would be the type of guy who is able to see the benefits. Especially a vibrator that he could use on you. Maybe not so much a dildo or something you could use in place of his cock, but something that you could use together in bed. He would probably also love it if he happened to walk in on you using your vibrator. Saying something about how since you just couldn't wait for him to get home he wanted you to finish what you were doing, and put on a show for him. He wouldn't use them every time you fucked but he would definitely pull them out for special occasions, or if he wanted to overstimulate you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
His middle name could be tease. He knows exactly how to get you turned on and wanting him, and he abuses that knowledge frequently. If he's bored at a party, his favorite thing to do is occupy himself by flirting with you and teasing you. He'll start to kiss at your neck or grab your ass when no one is looking. He'll whisper in your ear how much he can't wait to get you home, strip you naked, and fuck your in front the fireplace. Of course if you try to tease him back you better be prepared for what happens when you get home. He won't object to you sitting in his lap and wiggling your ass around to get him aroused. You don't know how he manages to keep such a cool composure while you massage and stroke his cock through his pants under the table. That's a sure fire way to make sure you're gonna get fucked against a wall as soon as you get back to Arrow House.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Tommy loves a bit of dirty talk, and he absolutely loves all the noises that you make. He will tell you how beautiful you are and how good you feel. Mixing both sweet praises and filthy commands in your ear. Changing from one to the other effortlessly. "You are so perfect, love, my little angel made to take my fucking cock. Yeah you love getting stretched open on my cock don't you?". He's fully aware that at times you can't respond with coherent sentences and he is fine with that as long as you don't hold back your beautiful moans and whimpers. He'll mix in his own grunts and groans that sound oh so delicious when you can pull them from him. Even during quickies he likes to talk to you and has a hard time being quiet if you are in a public place.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Tommy can be a bit of a pillow princess. We've all seen that he likes the cowgirl position, but what we don't see are the nights he's feeling incredibly needy and literally wants to just lie there while you pleasure him. He'll get a little whiny and pouty if he tries to pull you on top of him, and you don't automatically willingly agree. He may want you to suck his cock for a bit before you come up and sit on his cock. If you don't start moving he'll start pouting again. He gets like this when he's feeling really needy and feels like the world is out to get him. It doesn't happen a lot. Usually he's pretty content splitting the workload in bed, but every once in a while all he wants to do is take and you will gladly give in when Tommy is in his princess mood.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
The man radiates big dick energy, and he has earned it. His length is average, but he's got some extra girth. He's a thick boy with lots of bulging veins that throb and rub at you just right when he's inside you. It's always a little bit of a stretch to take him. It's not painful, but you feel very full. Best believe the man knows how to use his cock to drive you absolutely mad. He'll tease you by just thrusting his tip into you and make you beg for the rest of his length. He's uncircumcised and he has a lot of precum. If you get him riled up enough his cock will literally drip for you.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is high. Usually no matter what his day has brought him, whether it be good or bad, he's down to fuck. All it takes is for him to get home and find you already in your nightgown. Whether you are already asleep, putting the kids down for bed, or just laying in bed reading. All it takes is seeing how the thin fabric clings to your curves and his mouth is watering for a taste of you. He'll watch you the entire time he strips down for bed. Down to just his boxers. Completely unashamed of the tent forming there. Like a predator watching its prey. If you haven't noticed or are asleep he'll curl into your side starting to press kisses to your neck and slowly bring one of your hands to his crotch so you can feel how hard he is from just looking at you.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
We all know Tommy and sleep are not the best of friends, and while sex does help him relax, he doesn't drift off easily. He does have fewer nightmares after a good vigorous romp, but it's no guarantee he will have an easy night. If he's having a particularly hard time falling asleep, he may wake you up for another round as an alternative to heading to his study. He knows you prefer it if he stays away from working at night even when he can't sleep, so you don't mind him using you for a distraction. He does sleep better with you naked and cuddled into his side than he does when you aren't there, though.
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Runaway
summary | thomas has made a deal with a man to help his business. thomas’s only condition? to marry the man's daughter. except she doesn’t want to marry him.
pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader
word count | 1.98k
genre | fluff with some angst?
requested? | yes! i had so much fun writing this! especially since i have never written anything like this before! thank you so much for requesting! please let me know if you like it!
warnings! | arranged marriage? darkish thomas? (not really, i’m just not great at writing dark characters sometimes, lol) not proof read yet!
author’s note! | hey everyone! this main character was written with poc in mind, i have tried my best, but since i am not a person of color please let me know if there is anything i can change to make it better! i hope you enjoy your request! please know that if you have requested something, i promise that i will get to it soon! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
Thomas knew what was happening today, hell his whole family knew. His future bride was coming to birmingham. He struck up a good deal with her father about helping her fathers business about a week ago, then he saw a photo of the man's daughter. The only condition Thomas made? To marry his daughter. Once they agreed, the man said he needed a week to get his family there. By the time they got there, Thomas had already got everything set up to make damn sure the man would be successful in birmingham. Which included a few fights, but Thomas would do it all over again if it meant he could have her.
They weren’t to meet until the wedding, something her father insisted on. So Thomas stood in a room of the church getting ready, when his brother John busted in.
“They can’t find her Tommy” was all John said as he huffed as if he was out of breath.
Thomas’s mind began to race. What did he mean they couldn’t find her? Has something happened? Had one of his enemies found out about today and took her?
“She was getting ready, and asked for a moment to herself, when her mother came back in to check on her, she was gone.” John added as he leaned on the closest chair.
Thomas stood and took in his brother's words for a moment before he left the room. His future wife was out in Birmingham in her pretty white dress, with no protection and no one was doing anything about it. Her family may not know this city, but Thomas did. He knew what could happen to her if she stayed out there too long. This won’t be an issue when they’re married, and she has his last name. She could kill someone and get away with it then, but right now no one in Birmingham knows who she is. All they know is that she is a pretty girl in a white wedding dress, and the thought of what could happen to her made him sick.
Thomas looked everywhere he could think his fiance would be. He couldn’t find her anywhere, the only place he hadn’t checked was the Garrison.
He walked in to see his bride to be, standing behind the bar making herself what looked like her fourth drink. He walked in slowly, making sure not to scare her.
“(Y/n)?” He asked as he walked up to the bar. She looked up at him as she continued to make her drink. “I’m Thomas Shelby, your future-”
“I know who you are.” She said, cutting him off.
“Well, we're supposed to be getting married right now.” He said matter of factly. “So what are you doing here?”
“I’m not marrying you, thought you would have figured that out by now.” She said as she took a sip of her drink.
Thomas looked at her, making sure to not show how shocked he was that she was speaking to him that way.
“And, why not?” He asked her, now intrigued.
“I don’t want to, I don't know you.” She said as she finished her drink.
Thomas moved to be behind the bar where she was. He took her drink from her hand and placed it on the bar.
“(Y/n)” He said as he towered over her. “Your father has already given me your hand.”
“I know, I don’t care.” She said as she grabbed her drink back from Thomas.
Thomas just took a moment and stared at the girl as she took her drink back. It was the first time he truly got to look at her. He got to take in the color of her eyes, and the curl of her hair, she truly was beautiful.
“Why exactly are you so against marrying me?” He asked as he stared at her.
“I want to be my own person, not defined by my father or my husband.” She said not missing a beat.
“I think I can help with that.” Thomas said, starting to get closer to the girl. “I have a certain reputation, if you’re married to me, you’ll be untouchable.”
“That's still me being defined by my husband.” She said, cutting him off with a small eye roll.
Thomas took the drink from her and set it back down, but this time, she didn’t turn away from him, she just stared up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“As I was saying, you would be untouchable, and if you wanted a role in peaky blinder business, you wouldn’t just be “Thomas Shelby's wife”. You would be “(Y/n) Shelby, most feared woman in Birmingham”. You have an opportunity here, the choice is yours.” Thomas said, staring her in the eyes. Normally he would never offer this to someone he just met. But there was something about (Y/n), just the look in her eyes, the way she wasn’t scared of him, how she held herself, how she looked at him with the same amount of intensity he looked a her with, how she didn’t care she was defying the most feared man in birmingham. "Don't let your pride get in the way of a smart decision."
Thomas watches the girl stare at the wall for a moment, him taking in her side profile. Until she finally looked up at him.
"I won't be reduced to just your little wife?" She asked with a small glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"I'll let you take care of anyone who says you are" He said with a serious look on his face.
The girl gave him a small smile, it was obvious that no one had ever believed in her the way Thomas was right now, that they all thought of her as some weak little girl and nothing more.
"Fine, I'll marry you" She said as she looked up at him with a small smile.
Thomas wrapped her arm in his and led her out of the Garrison. He held the bottom of her white dress up away from the dirt as he walked them back to the church.
“You know, you’re not supposed to see the bride before the wedding.” She said to him with a small laugh. “It’s bad luck.”
“I won’t let anything ruin this marriage, trust me.” He said as he opened the church door for her and let her walk in first. Thomas watched as her family whisked her away, knowing that this girl was truly something he had never expected her to be, and he loved it.
#thomas shelby#thomas shelby imagine#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#cillian murphy#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fic#tommy shleby fic#thomas shelby fanfic#tommy shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fluff#tommy shelby fluff#thomas shelby angst#tommy shelby angst#thomas shelby peaky blinders#tommy shelby peaky blinders#peaky blinders#thomas shelby smut#tommy shelby smut
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An Ode to Ruination | T.S.
SUMMARY: Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callus to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.
PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader
WORD COUNT: 2.5K
WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking, drinking, semi-preoccupations with thoughts of death/suicide, mutual pining, meanish tommy because his feelings are hurt, canon-typical things, protective!tommy, rushed ending, etc.
A/N: Yeah, yeah, I’m back on my bullshit. This is inspired by @zodiyack‘s request/post (here). HAD to get it out of my system, I mean look how pretty he is. This is a mix of Old writing I had to dust off the cob webs for mixed with new stuff, so be kind. Enjoy.
“You’re leaving.”
Tommy’s tone was sterile. It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset.
The cracks behind his exterior were so deeply concealed you hadn’t thought anything could slip between. Yet, standing before him, your decision was the ice-pick that’s pressure had shattered him.
“Ada told you?” You hummed with formality; his presence clearly a response to the question. “London will treat me well.”
Tommy tracked your movements. You envied how he filled the space better than you. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his presence. Regardless, you felt like a guest in your own home. You felt caught, exposed.
The air was thick, causing Tommy’s deep breaths hard to hide behind a crackling record that you had on a continual loop, never able to stand too much silence. Your bags were organized beside the door for the morning, causing your heart to echo against the empty walls.
There was an odd sense of pride you felt with his presence. It confirmed the distant admiration that Tommy held for years. That the shared affection wasn’t something fabricated but complex. You respected his drive, but your desires fell elsewhere. He carved space for you despite your protests, but you could never be the one to fill it—you could never be his.
“A better life, eh?” Tommy mocked you, cigarette rolling over his lips with habit. “Fucks sake.” The confidence in his demeanor faltered. But he regained it quickly with a bitter laugh, “...I’ve given you everything, and here you are asking for more.”
With an instinct to comfort him, you wanted to reach for him. It spoke of your ability to read him and how exhausting it had become to interpret. He would miss you.
“Tommy—” You began. The calmness in your voice was deceiving. You could see it in his face, how expectant he was for you to tell him you’d stay. “—I’m not safe with you.” You paused, letting your admission sink in just as harshly as his words had, “I’m going to London.”
—
The bliss was idyllic.
Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive. Human. Your senses were perked. The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.
The living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Ada’s shuffling feet above you, ushering both her and Karl to sleep. It was odd that you found such freedom with them. Protection of sorts that you could rely on as a necessary stepping stone. It caused a headache to form at the back of your head, reminding you of your lack of sleep.
Privilege came with the name associated that made your stomach churn. It was simple to push Tommy into a subconscious level. The task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months to realize from the start he was responsible. It was as though you could feel how his eyes were still on you.
It became a habit to remind yourself of your newfound safety. The distance created life: happiness and tranquility. You traded bloody nights for bedtime stories, sewing razor-filled caps for gin-filled gatherings, and Tommy’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.
A disruption was overdue. You answered the phone after the third ring.
“Ada?” The voice was unmistakable, even if it was whiskey drenched. It took him a beat to realize you were on the other end. “... ’m callin’ for Ada.”
Chewing on your lip, you debated silence and pretended like the call had never begun. But that incessant ache begged to be relieved.
“I can wake her.” Your voice was soft, promising something you were unwilling to do. It was nicety that filled the quietness you were met with.
“I—uh—” Tommy sighed deeply. The words were lost, jumbled behind an always racing mind. You could picture him well; his crisp shirt no longer having life as it was rolled up by anxiety, his tie no longer present, but still suffocating him, and everything around him reflecting how he moved with an intemperate haze. “—I’m drowning—”
“Tommy…” You refused to burst, but his name on your tongue tattered between warning and heartbreak. When he drank, he opened up to you, a foolish cycle. “Let me get Ada…”
The dark chuckle on the other end forced you to press yourself closer to the phone. “Sometimes, I wish I were dead so you'd think of me.”
A frown perked your lips. You were made out to be more heartless than the most heartless man you knew. It was a naive guilt trip that you almost slipped on. “Be fair to me, Tommy.”
There was a crackle on the other end, a cigarette lit purely by regret. The drag was long, trying to pull something thoughtful from a blurred mind. The reports he received from those he paid off weren’t enough. You were thriving with his absence, seen with a mix of people who, even acquaintances, valued you better. It elicited resentful envy. However, out of arms reach, you worried Tommy endlessly. The London associates sought blood, no matter who provided it. The paranoia was ruining him, and no answer could reassure him.
“You a communist yet?” Tommy cleared his throat with a vulnerability that was only reserved for this night. Maybe, you thought, it was an effort on his part.
“Almost…” The teasing comforted a dodged homesickness. “Think my card got lost in the post.”
“Shame.” He tutted with a gentle wit. There was a tender sadness he carried with him. It was almost as volatile as his anger. It was easy to blame it on the war, but it had latched onto him long before, never planning to let go.
You imagined how his exhaustion mapped along his body. His body probably mirrored your own; head back, limbs weakly sprawled, heavy-lidded eyes imagining the other beside each other, and a mutual worry that bounced between you.
“I am happy, Tommy…” Your promise was delayed, hardly believable. “Ada and I do miss everyone.”
I miss you.
Tommy hummed, “...have a funny way of showin’ that.”
“You haven’t seen our smoke signals?”
The laugh you were met with was small, light, and barely there, but it rushed through your limbs and heated your chest. You had a moment to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callous to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.
—
You knew Tommy would be there. For Ada—you reminded yourself. Yet, seeing him so closely caused your heart to lurch, your blood leaving your extremities with such fascination that you became light-headed.
“Drink.” Ada all but scolded you, crystal pushed into your hand. The instruction was welcomed, but it wasn’t enough to settle you. “Otherwise, you’ll clam up if Tommy bothers to find us.”
Tommy worked the crowd well. It was a feigned charm that he played into only for advantage. Although he claimed to be here for family, business always loomed. Ada hadn’t cared either way, the glitz far too intriguing to question his sudden presence in the city.
“Give him time…” Ada spoke openly to the air, her night’s indulgence tracing her words. “...always time with that one—wastes it, and yet, expects you to be there when he hollers. Does your head in, it does…”
The champagne bubbled down your throat. The night was meant to be celebratory, but you’d be lying if you said you knew why. It was a part of your distinction from the Shelby family that you questioned if ignorance truly brought you bliss.
“Surprised he came himself. Thomas Shelby in the flesh,” Ada continued with ease, mocking her brother. “Surprised he even lifted a pinky. Typically one of his goons—” She looked to you, her revelation cutting her off. “You do understand what you do to him, don’t you?”
“I don’t want to.” Your words were sharp. Your eyes filtered the crowd for the gloved waiter to replace your glass. “There’s nothing that I—I’ve put all that behind me.”
“That?” She pressed with practiced bits of patience. Ada’s smile grew comically. The shy glancing took years to turn into full sentences and Ada knew firsthand how to read her brother, and the way he lingered spoke volumes. He was past smitten.
It was all or nothing; you were it.
You were grateful how her attention shifted to her own relationship. You never tired of hearing how Freddie treated her and loved her since they were children. There was somberness in her eyes, but devotion carried in her words. You saw how she carried him with her; certain mannerisms mirrored not only in her but Karl. Love withstood.
There was a point in your life you believed you’d find something similar. You hadn’t faulted your growing mind; it was natural to romanticism your future at such a young age. Those around you promised there was something fruitful to look forward to. However, life proved difficult; men remained boys, and the only person that you regarded stalked toward you as if you were nothing more than a stranger.
“Ada.” Tommy approached his sister as if she were alone. He’d visited her in the city multiple times but never once shared the air with you. “Enjoying yourself tonight, eh?”
“Mothers can still have fun.” She teased him with a peck on the cheek. Even in her state, she ridiculed her brother’s behavior. With a shoulder pushed against his, Ada encouraged Tommy to acknowledge you. “Have you no manners?”
To others, his expression may have appeared vacant. However, Tommy wrestled with himself, unsure how to maneuver in uncharted territory. Stalling, his eyes danced the crowd as he languidly out his matches and carton. It denoted how natural his icy illusion became, and now he seemed able to practice it on you. Once he landed on you, you realized why he struggled to meet your eyes. It was his only form of self-defense.
“London suits you.” Tommy nodded, his greeting muffled through the newly lit cigarette. The small rush it gave him was enough to stay vigilant.
“It has its moments.” Your chest perked from the attention and chill, but Tommy’s eyes never faltered from your own. You were daring him to take your body in. It was the sole reason you chose a dress that cut low both front and back.
Tommy was never a blind man.
Nor was his sister. Ada excused herself, claiming whatever ‘this’ was, she wanted no part. You are no fun, she said. However, you weren’t sure who it was directed to. You held back from following her, but your shoulders remained open; you wouldn’t fold into yourself.
“I didn’t know communists could have fun…” Tommy mumbled to himself, eyes going to the crowd once more. Ada’s self-imposed isolation rippled through the family, only fracturing the stress of everyone’s well-being.
A scoff bubbled in your throat, “And what do you know about pleasure?”
“Pleasure?” Tommy became focused and pointed with his words. “Pleasure doesn’t exist.”
Eyebrows cinching with frustration, you stepped closer to be heard, “Don’t pretend like your pleasures don’t have names.”
That drunken call all those nights ago was a mistake. It showed you insight into a dream. In that dream, Tommy was free of what haunted him, light and present. Faithful. There his voice wrapped you in warmth with fulfilled promises. You never were as skilled at hiding your emotions. Your heart was broken on your sleeve.
“I’m going to—
There wasn’t a need for a protective air as those around Tommy knew never to challenge him. However, far and few between, there were those men self-entitled with such idiocy; they couldn’t recognize they were prey.
“Thomas Shelby. Birmingham man in London.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, breaking the forming bubble around you. “Thought that was you! This must be the missus…”
“Not quite.” Your tone was bare, your hand extending with trained expertise. You could handle pleasantries. But the man was bold, leaving a damp kiss on your knuckles as if marking you.
Tommy was subtle, moving his body to act as a buffer. Fingertips brushy feather-bare against your lower back. You thought it would end there but held back a flinch when Tommy’s warm palm flattened where your back curved.
“Ah, understood!” The man replied with a boisterous cackle. It reflected years of unfiltered nicotine and a wet and sick penchant for bourbon. “I’ll have one of you warm my bed once all of this shit is over.”
You pinned your breath to the roof of your mouth. Your loss for words wasn’t due to the ill-mannered man. It was from the brush of Tommy’s thumb against your skin. It was a comfort and an apology for how he would have to agree with the man to keep him at bay.
It was all a part of the plan you were slowly catching onto.
“A good lay is a good lay, isn’t it, Mr. Shelby?” The man prompted again, a gauge to know if the future alliance would be worth it.
“Exactly right.”
You could storm off, cause a scene. Your anger steeped deeper than that. It lived in your bones, morphing into something vindictive. You stayed the course and played your part willingly. The morals you lectured Tommy on didn’t matter anymore when all along he had the upper hand.
To the man, you were a plaything, someone who the conversation held no standing. The information would be forgotten, implied confidentiality, as you’d move on to your next client. However, the further you orchestrated the conversation to continue, the more you learned.
The night was a business move, another party dosed in secrets and danger. You took in the man’s features, noting how he was aging, greys just starting to filter through his scalp. Your stomach turned, knowing there would be a bullet between his eyes by the end of the evening. The interaction was a courtesy.
Once alone again, you didn’t hesitate to move from Tommy’s shield. You felt dirtied.
“I can’t believe you.” You spat. “You’re incapable of—
“Enough.” Tommy’s words were low. He pinned you with a look alone, keeping you steady. “You want to run from me, but you can’t.” You battled with him until you lost. His face hardened like you were another associate. “It was him or you.”
#q#tommy shelby#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby x f!reader#thomas shelby#thomas shelby fluff#thomas shelby angst#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x f!reader#peaky blinders#peaky blinders fic#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader
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ALWAYS ON YOUR SIDE - TOMMY SHELBY
prompt: "I'm always on your side." - requested by @peakyswritings
pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader
word count: 1.2k
warnings: none (let me know if you find any)
notes: I haven't written for tommy in forever. I really missed it. I hope you all enjoy this.
The door to your husband’s office stood ajar. You could see the light from the room illuminating the darkened hallway as you made your way towards the room. Once you stood in front of it, you peeked inside, seeing Tommy with his face in his hands, his elbows propped up on the desk.
If he knew that you were watching him, he would sit up properly. He would show you his strong side and not the vulnerable one he was presenting now. Of course, you would see right through him. You have been married for quite some time, and even before your marriage, you had been friends for years.
You watched Tommy for a little while longer, thinking he would move, but he stayed in that exact same position.
A sad sigh left your lips. You smoothed down your nightgown before you lifted one of your hands, and knocked on the door.
You didn’t enter the room right away. You waited for your husband to say something and when he did, you opened the door properly. His elbows weren’t propped up on the desk anymore. He had smoothed down his hair, his eyes looking intently to the door until he noticed it was you. His eyes instantly softened, a small smile gracing his lips while you closed the door behind you.
You walked over to where he was, not stopping at the chair that was lined up in front of his desk. You walked around it, so you could be close to your husband.
“Isn’t it a bit too late for you to still be awake?”
You raised your eyebrows, an amused smile on your lips as you shook your head. You dropped a kiss on the top of your husband’s head before you moved to stand behind him, your hands finding his shoulders. You started massaging his shoulder blades, an almost inaudible groan leaving his lips.
“I can stay up past midnight.”
“Barely.”, Tommy stated, earning him a light slap against his upper arm before you returned to your previous action.
“The question is, why are you still up? Two hours ago, you told me you would join me in bed soon.”
You could feel Tommy tense up a little bit. You tried to ease him up again by massaging not just his shoulders but also his neck. You knew it helped him, yet his eyes kept staring straight ahead. Something was bothering him.
“Tell me, love. You know you can talk to me.”
You pressed your lips lightly against his neck, kissing him gently before you removed yourself from him. Nevertheless, you stayed close to him. You leaned against his desk, looking him deep into his blue eyes, waiting for him to talk to you.
“It’s nothing.”, he said, although he knew it wouldn’t convince you. Tommy didn’t want to disturb your peace with his schemes and business.
He took one of your hands in his, his fingers lightly playing with yours before he pulled you on his lap. You smiled up at him, his lips pressing a loving kiss on yours.
Oh, how you loved having Tommy to yourself. Your husband was a different man when it was just the two of you. Once his family joined you, he would change, not much, but slightly. And when you were accompanied by his business partners, he was even more unlike the Tommy that was with you at that moment. That was the Tommy you least liked.
“Will you tell me about it now?” you whispered against his lips, kissing him once more, his arms wrapped around your body, pressing you close against him.
“John and Arthur aren’t as convinced of our next project as I thought they would be. It’s not stressing me out, but it makes things a bit harder.” he finally confessed, and even though he tried his best to stay confident, you were able to make out the change in his eyes.
Although he did things on his own, he always liked having his brothers with him. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but even Tommy Shelby needed someone by his side from time to time.
“I’m always on your side.”, you stated confidently, pressing another kiss on his lips. “So, if you need anything or you want me to be anywhere, let me know.”
Tommy immediately shook his head. His lips pressed kisses to cheeks before he took your face into his hands and stared intently into your eyes.
“I don’t want you anywhere near what I’m doing, okay? You will stay here. I want you to stay out of my troubles.”
You knew he was being serious. He had told you this before. But you wanted to help. You didn’t care about what could happen, however, Tommy knew better.
You couldn’t help but nod your head. There was no need to fight your husband. He would try anything, in his willpower, to keep you safe and out of his business.
His thumbs traced circles on your cheeks. A defeated sigh escaped your lips before you leaned in and kissed him again. This time, you didn’t pull away. Your lips moved in sync. You poured your love for him into the kiss, your hands roaming one another’s bodies.
“You’re very stubborn. I hope you know this,” you mumbled into the kiss, giggling lightly as you felt him squeeze your hips.
“I learned from the best.”
The two of you stayed entangled for a while, lips interlocked. Until you had to pull away to breathe. Yet you stayed close to Tommy, your foreheads lightly touching.
“I think it is time to go to bed.”, you said, getting up from Tommy’s lap. “You too, mister Shelby.”, you told him, pointing an accusing finger at him.
“Don’t make me wait again.”
“I don’t intend to. Who knows what you could do to me.”
Tommy winked at you teasingly, making you laugh. He got up from his chair, pushing it close to the desk before he made his way over to where you were.
You waited for him at the door, shrugging your shoulders before both of you left his office, walked through the hallway of your home and made your way to your bedroom.
“Oh, I won’t tell you what I do to you. That’s my little secret.”
You grinned up at your husband, helping him out of his clothes until the only thing he was wearing were his undergarments. You put your hands on his naked chest, gliding upwards to his shoulders until your arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the hair at the back of his head.
“But I know what we could do now. I’m not that tired.”
You took one step closer to him, his lips immediately crashing on yours. His hands slid to your thighs, lifting you up from the floor. Your legs wrapped around his body as Tommy moved you over to your bed, laying you down on it gently.
“Great idea.”, he mumbled against your lips before his hands slid under your nightgown. A moan escaped your lips, and you knew sleep wouldn’t come so soon.
#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby x fem!reader#peaky blinders imagines#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fic
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"As long as I still love you, my eyes will never grow dark to you.”
pairing -> thomas shelby x f!oc
trope -> hurt/comfort, argument, tommy being kinda a shitty husband
warning -> argument, tommy being kinda a shitty husband, fluffy ending (i promise)
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He sat back in his plush chair. Today wasn't a good day in general. Between his brothers pissing him off and a couple business deals going south, it seemed like he couldn’t catch a break. He tilted his head back while his eyelids fluttered close. All he needed was time. All he needed was peace and quiet. He knew he was forgetting something but he couldn’t tell what he was forgetting. Like something was supposed to happen but nothing happened. He shook his head and started to pour another glass of whiskey. Another storm was brewing on the horizon. He hadn’t even realized it until it was too late. The great big door swung closed. The house had grown darker than it usually was, the dark oak everywhere kept it ambient but now, with the threat of something coming, it seemed even darker. Someone hung up their coat. Then it dawned on Tommy who had just arrived. His wife. His wife who had tear stained cheeks and wet hair. She didn’t look at him as she kicked off her shoes. His thoughts started to quicken as he tried to figure out what he had forgotten. Turns out, she was going to answer that for him.
“For a man who projects the idea that he is on top of everything, you seem to forget what you say is most important to you.” She silently walked up to their shared room, quietly shutting the door behind her. He could hear her faint tears through the door. What had he forgotten? He sat back down in his office. He took a long drag of his cigarette. What was happening today? What was so special about today? What exactly had he forgotten? Upstairs, she slumped against the door. Her cheeks felt hot tears slide down them as she cried for a husband that took her for granted. She knew this was not true all the time, not the nights where he kissed the length of her body and made up for all the long nights and forgotten promises, not the days that he took off work and spent the day in bed with her, not the times where he noticed that she was uncomfortable and he slipped his hand in hers to reassure her that he was there, not the times where he let her cry in his lap until she fell asleep. Then again, this was a rather important thing to forget. Today was special. Today had been the happiest day of her life a year ago. She didn’t know, she couldn't fathom how he could forget a day like today. So she cried. She cried with her back against the door of the bedroom that they used to sleep in every night, the bedroom where they had planned on trying for children, the bedroom where they both forgot about the world and just focused on each other. She could hear footsteps outside the door. She reached a shaky hand up and locked it from the inside. She would rather cry herself to sleep against the cold, hard floor than face her husband who had forgotten her once again. She heard Frances, Thomas’ maid, from the other side of the door.
“Mrs. Shelby, Mrs. Thorne wanted to give you these–” Tony cracked the door open slightly to look at the small parcel Ada had left her. It had a small note attached to it. She thanked Frances and took the package inside, then relocked the door. She carefully pulled the brown paper off for it to reveal a small box of chocolates. The note had fallen to the floor, which Tony now started to notice. The note read, ‘Just in case you needed it. Remember that he does love you, even though he does get wrapped up in himself. Happy Anniversary to my favorite sister in law. Yours truly, Ada Thorne.’ Tony smiled and tucked the note under the box of chocolate. She heard a different set of footsteps come up to the other side of the locked door. It was much heavier and sounded much more familiar. She took a deep breath. She heard something hit the floor. A few curse words in a Birmingham accent floated in through the crack in the floor. She didn’t know what exactly she should say. Yes, she was angry, so she should chew him out? Then again, she was sad, should she guilt trip him? Make him feel all the feelings she was feeling? Another emotion surfaced, fear. The fear of abandonment. The fear that one day, he would leave her. The fear that she was slowly getting taken for granted by the man she loved most in the world. Again, she started to cry, then she felt something soft hit the hand she had been leaning on. It was a napkin from the dining room of the Arrow House. She smiled through her building sadness. This was how they had communicated the day of their wedding. They had passed notes on several stacks of napkins since it was customary for the groom to not see his bride. They had both thought this rule was silly and a little outdated but you don’t argue with Aunt Polly. The notes on their wedding day had been words full of adoration and love. Now the napkin that had been riddled with tear stains had two simple words on it.
‘I’m Sorry.’ She blinked a few times but this just made the napkin more and more wet. The handwriting was his. This was the handwriting that had moved millions of dollars. This was the handwriting that had written letters full to the brim of teasing words and innuendos while he was in London and she was in Ireland. This was the handwriting of the man she loved more than anything in this world. This was the handwriting of her husband. This was the handwriting of the man who had forgotten his own wedding anniversary. She gulped down another wave of tears and mustered up enough resolve to finally get words out.
“But are you though?” She could hear the breath being released from the other side of the door. She could almost hear the wheels in his head turning, trying to solve this problem quickly, but there is no quick solution to this. She was not the kind of girl who would say that a couple of kisses and a night of sweet love making would be a sufficient apology. She needed something much more substantial. She could hear him trying to think of the right words, the right phrasing, the best way of regaining the love of his wife back.
“You have all the right in the world to be angry at me. You have all the right in the world to walk out on me. That is, as of right now, what I deserve. I have taken you for granted and forgotten many things I shouldn’t have. Yell at me if you have to. I will leave you alone if you need space to cry. My only request is that we figure this out together. This day, last year, we were married and you told me something that has stuck with me every single day–” He paused, trying to remember what she had said exactly to make sure he got his point across perfectly.
“As long as I have love in my heart for you, my eyes will stay a pale gray. No matter what happens. No matter what I have to go through. As long as I still love you, my eyes will never grow dark to you.” He finished her quote with a long silence.
“When you walked in from the rain, your eyes were darker than I’ve ever seen them. I wish there was a quick and easy way of fixing this so that I can have my Tony back to the way she was before I started to fuck up this entire thing…but there is no easy way. There never has been. You do things methodically, I do things sporadically, sometimes with a plan, sometimes spontaneously. Our love exists in the balance between erratic and consistent. If there is any way I can reclaim your love, I will go to any lengths for it. I know you might not believe me but your love, Anthony Bentini Shelby, is the thing nearest and dearest to my heart. Your love that is fleeting than trying to cup water in your hands, your love that makes a man fall to his knees at the sight of it, your love that is only shown to the most worthy of souls. You have changed the course of my life with your love. You have changed my soul with your love. If there is any way, if there is even a possibility of your forgiveness, I will wait weeks, months, years, sitting against this door, until you come to your verdict…and if you so choose to walk out, I will not stop you, just know that you have changed every single member of the Shelby family.” She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know if she should say anything after that. Thomas hadn’t spoken that much in weeks. He had let out a few sentences at most to her but nothing this long. Nothing this…important. She pulled a pen out of her jacket pocket and wrote carefully on the napkin before sending it back under the door. She simply wrote, ‘I forgive you.’ She cracked the door again to let her hand through to the other side. He laced his fingers between hers. She could hear his breath evening out. She could feel her own slowing down and she could feel her tears drying. She silently giggled when she felt him drawing small designs with his thumb into the back of her hand. She could hear his voice, now cracked and choked up.
“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Shelby.” She could feel him plant a small, gentle kiss to the back of her hand. He was never gentle about anything. The trademark of his love was that he tried to be more gentle with her.
“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Shelby.”
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