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mayfieldss · 2 months

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Your needs, my needs - Thomas Shelby

Summary: after a particularly rough day, tommy needs you more than ever.

Warnings: mentions of blood and slightly suggestive content.

The day was coming to a close when Thomas finally found enough peace to walk home. The light from the sky was falling slowly from view, and the gravel beneath his feet held no comfort to any of the steps he took, but he traveled on nonetheless, back home to you.

He was desperate for it, your touch. After the day he'd had, he craved it like a drowning man prays for oxygen, and he pushes himself through your front door with such a force you'd thought a gunshot had been fired.

"Y/N!" Tommy calls, his voice echoing in the empty stairwell. He's about to make his way up said stairs, when you appear, a look of concern upon your face.

"Tommy? What's happened?" You take each step quickly, stumbling down the last few in your rush, but Tommy is there and ready to steady you. The instant his hands meet your body, he can feel each nerve in his muscles loosening. As if his hold on you releases their hold on him.

"It's good to see you." Tommy mutters, eyes raking over your features, fingers digging into your sides soft enough for you to be comfortable, but strong enough for him to know you're really there.

"Thomas, your bleeding." Your hand comes up to his forehead, the cut there leaking red slowly, though Tommy doesn't care. How can he when your eyes are on him in such an affectionate way, as though he isn't the monster he's painted himself to be? You make him feel like maybe his pain is just that. Paint, that he can wash away, and as it runs down the drain, maybe then he will be good enough for you.

He brings one hand up to the back of your neck, thumb grazing over your earlobe as he feels a shiver run through you.

"Tommy, you're hurt. You're not thinking straight." You're being stern with him, but your touch says otherwise, and you both know it.

"I'm thinking perfectly well, sweetheart." He's never kissed you before, never touched you in the way he is now, but he's thought about it long and hard for months, wondering when his resolve would fade. Perhaps today is that day because his eyes can't help but flicker downward to your lips. Yours do the same to his.

"You're an anchor," Tommy moves closer as you lean into the touch of his hand on your cheek. "And I'm a fucking shipwreck."

"I didn't think Thomas Shelby was a man that could be tied down. He's always on the move, isn't he?" You're whispering, breath fanning over him, and you can feel his hand on your hip slide round to the small of your back, begging you closer, hoping you'll take the steps.

"Perhaps some things can change."

You don't believe him in the slightest. Tommy can't be still. He can't simply love you in the way you could him if given the chance. And he might try, but his efforts end up wasted, washed away by the fact business is the forefront of his mind.

"You don't want to change, Tommy. That's the last thing you want."

"I think I can be the judge of what it is that I want." He's feeling dizzy, his body swaying briefly without his permission, and you pull back from him when you notice it.

"You need to sit." Tommy doesn't have a choice in the matter because you've taken him by the hand and are leading him to the living room. You'd decorated it nicely, wooden furniture and a quilt covered sofa that you force him to sit upon.

"Rest, Tommy." You say when he tries to coax you back toward him. He can still hear the ringing in his ears from the gunfire earlier that day, the wet thunk of his fists on bloodied flesh.

"Dont need rest, love." He's pushed himself up from the sofa, closing the gap between you. His chest rises and falls opposite to your own, and his hands have found your hips once more. "I know what I need. I think we both do."

"What you want and what you need are very different things, Tommy. You need to rest." You tell him again, though he's being more distracting now. His lips have come down to leave a kiss below your ear, his voice gravelly and quiet

"Right now, I just need you fucking close to me." He takes a few steps back, allowing himself to fall into the sofa, and with his hands on your hips he guides you into his lap.

You allow it and stare at him from the new position, concern crossing your features. Concern not for Tommy now, but for whether you'll be able to stop thinking about him if you give in. You'd thought about it nearly as much as Tommy, but you held more restraint than the peaky blinder that now had a hand running through your hair.

"Tommy—" you don't know what else to say, stopping to think about it. Not that it's easy to think with his lips on your neck.

"If you want me to go, say it. But I've had a rough fucking week, and something tells me you have too." His eyes seem a harsher blue than before, they glow in the low light of the room, and you can't deny yourself of this. At least not now.

So you kiss him, and allow his hands to roam. You let yours do the same, tugging at his coat, his vest, his shirt. And Tommy loves every minute of it. It's like the snow the boys are so addicted to, seeping into his bloodstream, and he's high on energy again, even after the long day. He was right, you were the cure he needed to empty his mind, to bring him back to the present. The waiting game he'd played with you for so long, has melted away, and with every lingering touch Tommy knows his place is here. Until the next fight he has, the next pile of business he's forced to battle his way through, he can tangle himself up in you, and allow himself the affection he so rarely receives.

AN: I didn't know where this fic was going, so i ended it here. No plot, just vibes. Slut era.

PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:

GENERAL TAGLIST: @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

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lostgirlfandom · 1 year

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Shorty

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 560

You looked up at the shelf with the tea on it with pursed lips. You heaved a big sigh. You the tried to reach up and your fingertips didn’t even graze the box. You then reached up on your tip toes and still you couldn’t even graze the shelf itself. Relaxing down, you glared up at the offending tea box before yelling into the house.

“THOMAS SHELBY!”

You waited with baited breath and listened to the noise of the house. You heard the noise in the other room, where the three brothers were sitting and talking, stop and then the sound of footsteps coming towards the kitchen. You watched the doorway for the boys with a sharp glare.

Arthur and John came in and made room for Thomas to come in as they looked at the set up you had. You had already set up the kettle and multiple cups out but no tea... which was on the top shelf – not where you initially put it. John and Arthur both chocked on laughs as they examined your disgruntled figure. Thomas leaned on the door jam and observed you with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You could see the amused glints in his eyes and his cheek twitched into a grin for a split second before going back into his tight-lipped look.

“Yes, love?” He said calmly.

Saying nothing, you pointed up at the tea and glared at the boys. “Get it down...” they did nothing so you glared harder and set your mouth into a scowl. “Now.”

John and Arthur were trying to nonchalantly cover their wide grins and stifle their laughs. Thomas sat there for a second, making you angrier as he then very slowly walked over to you and stood next to you. He started down at your 5’3” figure... teasingly he reached up and easily reached the tea box with his long ass arms. He gave a smirk and held the box in front of you.

You aggressively grabbed the box and turned your back on the boys to finish making the tea.

“Awww... don’t be angry, munchkin.” You heard John say through strangled laughs. You then felt him put his elbow on your head as an arm rest and you huffed for a second but continued to ignore him.

“You’re so adorable whe-” John didn’t get to finish his sentence as you threw a fist back and hit him in the dick. Breathlessly, he hunched over and then fell onto the floor. Arthur was laughing loudly from across the room, hunching over himself as he laughed. Thomas was chuckling as he took a puff off his cigarette.

You stared down at John with a raised eyebrow and a resting bitch face. “You were saying?” You asked calmly before turning to finish making the tea.

You listened as John and Arthur went back into the other room while Thomas stayed and leaned against the counter next to you. He watched you for a moment. He leaned down and pressed a kiss onto your cheek and held his lips there for a moment before pulling back. Leaning in to whisper into your ear. “You’re perfect to me.”

A dark flush spread over your cheeks as you froze, he chuckled and turned to go back to the other room again.

After a moment, you shook yourself out of the stupor and chuckled. “Shelbys...” You shook your head.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #reader insert #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #gender neutral reader #female reader

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fallatyourfeet · 2 years

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Good For Business (Jealous Tommy x Female Reader) Part 1/2

Completed

Summary: You have worked at the Garrison for months now. What's suddenly got Tommy so jealous?

Word count: 1690

Warnings: Swearing. Jealousy. Fic gets a bit heated right at the end, but it's nothing explicit.

A/N: Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

Tommy hated it. Really hated it. Clenched jaw, hands coiled into fists, hated it. Every time he sat in that damn cosy at the Garrison, he felt every nerve ending flare, watching through the opening as you moved about serving ale and whisky to the men of Small Heath. His steely eyes silently scrutinising every second bloody man vying for your attention. Not that he could blame them. You were effortlessly warm and inviting; impossible to ignore.

They hired you for that very reason; you were good for business. But Tommy had no idea how easily and how quickly you would carve out a spot in his heart, nor how powerless he would be to stop it. And for a while, it was easy enough to ignore, to deny that little portion of his heart even existed. After all, it was obvious to him, that all the smiles and laughter you exchanged with the patrons was never anything more than harmless flirtation. But as the months past, that little portion began beating faster and louder every time someone spoke your name, quietly and unassumingly sneaking its way through every surface of his heart, embedding itself like the beautiful deep roots of an oak tree.

And so, here he sat once again, in the cosy of the Garrison, half listening to the banter of his brothers, while his main focus was you. That hazardous smile that disarmed man after man, your infectious laugh that brought warmth to the stoniest of faces and the kind effortless way you diffused their advances, before they even had the chance to feel rejected. But fuck, he didn't realise just how firmly those roots were embedded in his heart until today.

You were busy with your back turned to the counter when an unfamiliar and rather ordinary looking man walked in, stopping behind a group of men waiting to buy their next round. He stood there, clearly impatient for you to turn around and see him, his expression full of expectation, but you were completely oblivious to his presence as you continued serving the men before you. Tommy shifted in his seat when the unexceptional man smiled with anticipation, there was fondness there; on his lips, it was unmistakable. This man knew you... and knew you well. Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat again, his unsmoked cigarette lying forgotten as it burnt slowly and steadily towards his fingertips, and his glare trained to the face that waited so patiently for you to see him.

Tommy hated that it took every ounce of strength to keep his backside in his seat, when what he really wanted was to march up behind you, take you by the hand and lead you to the office, before you could lay eyes on this stranger. So sure he was, that he would not like your reaction. And in the next moment, he wished he had. When your eyes caught sight of him, you nearly dropped a bottle of whiskey on the floor, stopping short of jumping over the counter to reach him. Regaining some form of composure, your impatient feet took you around to the front of the bar, throwing yourself into his waiting arms, but it was the expression on your face that broke Tommy. Pure joy. It lit up your features in a way he had never seen before, the sight sparking instant and unwarranted hatred for a nameless man he was yet to meet. He was jealous. Plain and simple. There was no other word for it.

It must have been only five minutes, five long jealous minutes, struggling to keep his expression neutral and unreadable, ignoring the strange looks he was getting from his brothers as he watched the interaction unfold. After returning behind the bar, you got straight back to work serving the other patrons, while the man claimed a stool right in front of you. And even though you kept pouring drinks and interacting with the regulars, he was the one that held your attention. There was such affection in the way you spoke to him, even without hearing your words, Tommy could see it. He wanted to be on the receiving end of it. Wanted to be the unexceptional man you showered your affection upon. And the sight of it got too much.

Looking to his hands, he noticed the trail of ash his cigarette had dropped across the table, and the tense way his fingers gripped the empty tumbler. With a measured breath, he scrapped the glass back and forth across the surface, before looking back up. It could not have been worse timing. There was your hand, reaching across to rest upon the man's forearm, your heads almost touching in the middle of the counter as he spoke secret words to you. Reacting impulsively, Tommy threw his burning cigarette to the floor and stood to his feet, the chair scrapping loudly across the floor in the process and without another thought, he pushed his way through the door of the cosy.

Tommy's legs took him quickly through the growing crowd of patrons, his expression warning them to give him space. Making his way across the front of the bar, he caught your attention with a wave of his arm, pointing in the direction of the office, his voice hard, "Y/N! Can I've a word with you in the office?"

Nodding your head, you took off your apron and threw it to the counter, whispering to the man before you followed, but Tommy caught every word, not hearing a single thread of concern amongst them, "Well, it looks like I'm in trouble."

Entering the office, Tommy gripped the door knob tightly as he waited for you to join him, closing it rather forcibly behind you. And when you met his intense gaze, you were surprisingly calm, yet genuinely confused, asking, "Tommy. What's wrong... has something happened?"

Usually, Tommy never acted so impulsively, he knew it was ridiculous and completely out of line, but he couldn't help himself. Taking a short breath, he kept his voice as even as possible, "Y/N. We don't pay you to spend your time conversing with all our customers."

Putting your hands on your hips, you were not intimidated in the slightest, and it would've been a lie if Tommy said it didn't turn him on a little. Fuck, that defiance brought to life every feature of your face. With a stubborn raise of your brow, you replied, "Ah... No Tommy, that's precisely what you pay me to do."

Taking a step closer, your expression softened just enough to draw his attention to the knowing look hidden quietly within your eyes, asking him the question you seemingly already knew the answer to. "Me, conversing with our customers has never bothered you before... what makes tonight any different?"

As the last word left your mouth, you took yet another step closer, close enough for him to feel the gentle warmth radiating from your body; it was still not close enough. Glancing to the floor Tommy cleared his throat, realising he was beyond the point of returning to his days surveying you from the cosy. Propping himself against the desk, he crossed his feet at the ankles, his hands resting on the edge at his sides. "That was before," Tommy waved his hand in the direction of the bar, "that man came in here and... who is he Y/N?"

You almost laughed, and Tommy tried to keep his expression neutral, "You've got to be kidding me, Tommy." Biting your bottom lip, you shook your head in amusement, "Everyday you're here, you see men smile and flirt with me and it doesn't bother you in the slightest."

"That's where you're wrong, Y/N." Standing up, he stepped towards you, picking up a lock of your hair, gently placing it behind your shoulder, noticing how your breath hitched at his touch. "It's always bothered me... but I have never seen you so happy to see someone before... and I know I have no right to be jealous, but I am."

This time, a little chuckle did escape your lips, and Tommy suddenly felt a little sheepish, but God, was your expression doing something to him right now. "Jealous. Of Peter? Oh Tommy. Of all people to be jealous of... He's my cousin, and I haven't seen him in years." Running your fingers along the edge of his jacket lapel, you shook your head, the flirtatious manner in which you did so, far surpassing any other he had witnessed you bestow upon any other man. And it thrilled him. "If I had known a visit from him was all it would take for you to notice me, I would've asked him to visit months ago."

If Tommy was the type to get embarrassed, he would have turned scarlet, but he wasn't that kind of man. Instead, he reached forward and slid his fingers around the side of your neck, his palm firmly cupping the nook under your ear. Pulling you closer, your body brushed against his, the sensation making it difficult to think of little else. But a deep breath cleared his head for long enough, to say, "He's your cousin?"

It was more of a statement than a question, but you answered anyway, "Yes, Tommy... He's my cousin." Reaching up, you wrapped your fingers around his wrist that still cradled your neck, and moved his hand to your cheek, before brushing your lips across the roughness of his palm, your warm breath teasing his skin as you spoke. "But one day it may not be."

Tommy didn't say another word; he couldn't, his lips were too occupied by yours. Fumbling his way to the door, he took you with him in a mess of limbs, both your bodies crashing against its frame, clumsily searching for the blind. Pulling on the cord, the outside world disappeared, it was just you and him. Fuck, why hadn't he done this sooner? And as you wrapped your legs around his waist, he murmured through broken kisses along your neck, "Yes. One day it may not be."

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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Blighty One ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Angst)

Summary: When Tommy gets hurt, time is running out and when his girl steps up, there's nothing he can do about it

Note: Thank you for the request - I hope you like it.

Here is my [Masterlist].

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Request: I was wondering if you could write something where Tommy's girl risk her life to save him?

Warning: Gun violence, blood. Expect canon confirming tone, language and depiction of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility.

Wordcount: 1868

Breathe, Tommy thought. Just fucking breathe.

Right now there was nothing he could do apart from that, nothing at all. And the last thing he could afford was to lose his head.

They had cover, so even if they were still firing, they wouldn’t be able to hit them.

It was alright, he told himself, because they had cover.

And as long as the bullets kept coming there was no way of looking back, not unless one wanted to risk getting shot. But they had cover - fuck

Focus, soldier. Fucking focus.

It was as if he was trying to fight a pressure on his chest as he tried to breath, a biting, burning pressure that made a groan escape his clenched teeth.

Forcing his eyes shut, he battled for control of himself.

He had to - that was his job.

Opening them again, he leaned his head back against the wood and looked around, searching for John.

Always John first. He was the youngest, his younger brother and the one with the most waiting for him back home. So he had always looked for John first, after every struggle, every fight, every collapse and every explosion.

But he could see him, standing at the corner of the small entrance to the corridor they had fled into, his back pressed against the painted wood, and the gun in his hand. Arthur was next.

He wasn’t close to John, which made his heart beat even faster than it already raced, but then he saw his brother, kneeling in front of him.

Tommy on his own breath as he leaned forward to get a look at his brothers eyes, because that was the second danger, surpassed only by possible injuries.

He needed Arthur, and he needed all of him if he wanted to get through this.

But Arthur’s eyes, even if they were wild and frantic like two treacherous lights glimmering in the darkness, were clear.

Thank fuck.

Those were his two priorities.

It wasn’t like the others didn’t matter to him, of course they did, but his brothers were his responsibility.

They had only come to France because of him. If anything happened to them, it would be on him and he’d never forgive himself.

Only…Tommy wasn’t in the trenches, nor was he underground.

The trousers he wore were black and not that ghastly greenish-brown which he never wanted to see again.

There was no mud either, but clean, cold stone and painted wood.

And the light was the sun that made them sweat until the water stood in their shoes but it came from the flickering light of the lamp.

“Oh my God!”

It was her voice that truly brought him back, her frantic, panicked voice and her equally unsteady hands.

His own still had her coat in an iron grip at her collar from when he had grabbed her and pushed her head down and out of harms way.

“Oh my God!”

She was wearing the new coat he had gotten her, as blue as a midday winter sky.

Tommy liked buying her pale clothes, now that they could afford them. Before, they never would have twice of buying something that would get dirty easily and show stains.

She was always hesitant, preferring practicality over luxury, but he so liked to spoil her. Even the seamstress had been cautious about the white wild leather gloves.

Or they had been white, now they were stained with red.

“Arthur, what do I do?”, she whimpered, her chest rising and falling in rapid, frantic intervals without any semblance of rhythm.

Tommy looked her up and down, trying to find the source of the blood- on that pale coat of her’s he ought to have seen it at once, but he saw nothing…nothing at all.

It did nothing to curb the bottomless terror he felt.

“Fuck!”, Arthur said, his eyes meeting his and in them, he saw nothing but dread.

Only when he felt the pain from the pressure (Y/N) tried to apply, did his own gaze lower.

Fuck, Tommy thought.

It had all happened so quickly.

One moment they were walking through the now deserted hall, his mind already on the horse, on the way home and an easy day - for once.

Then someone from the gallery had bellowed his name, his voice filled with hate and venom.

Once he had seen the gun, he had had less than a single second to react.

John had been the quickest to draw his gun, or at least that was what he remembered.

Tommy's only concern was getting her out of the way.

And once they had cover he had made sure the rest of them were alright.

Only now did he have the time to look at himself.

(Y/N)’s hands were pressing down on his waistcoat, made from the same black fabric, but when she drew them back, the red stains had doubled in size.

“Let me see, let me see!”, Arthur insisted.

In one clean tug he had ripped the buttons clean off and pushed the dark fabric aside.

Under it, a red rose had begun to bloom, just opening its petals towards the sun.

Only when she gasped, the pain truly hit him.

“Scarf- give me your scarf!”, Arthur ordered, and (Y/N) rushed to obey.

He lifted Tommy’s arm and wrapped it around his waist, tightening it into a knot before pressing down.

“You’ll be alright, Tom, eh?”, he said, nodding.

But the look in (Y/N)’s eyes betrayed the situation. They were wide and frantic and fearful, a look that made him sick to his stomach, but before he could say something, she swallowed hard, her sleeve covering her mouth.

Her bloody hand closed into a fist.

In the split second she closed her eyes, he knew her mind was racing, but when she opened them again, they were filled with iron determination.

“We have to get him to a hospital.”, she told Arthur.

“Yeah.”, his brother agreed, his large palm still pressing down on Tommy’s side.

With his other hand, he took his arm and pulled him to his feet.

(Y/N) tried her best to help but when Tommy felt his legs give way, she wasn’t able to stem his weight, making him slump against his brother’s side.

Arthur staggered a step back before catching their combined weights.

“I can’t hold you, Tommy!”, (Y/N) wimpered breathlessly, heaving him back into a standing position, as soon as Arthur had steadied them.

“‘s alright.”, Tommy tried to assure her.

His mouth had run dry and his tongue felt thick and foreign.

When he tried to focus, her face began to blur slightly.

“John!”, she hissed, “John, you have to take him!”

He tired to turn his head to look at his younger brother, but his head felt heavy.

“If I leave position, they’ll just come. You three, go!”

John’s voice had a strange echo to it, Tommy thought, as if he was speaking into an empty hall and not a small, narrow corridor.

For a few seconds he could hear (Y/N)’s frantic breathing, and then she gave a small nod.

“I understand. , You’ll be twice as quick if you help carry him.”, she insisted.

“(Y/N)...”, Arthur winced.

All the while, Tommy’s mouth had run as dry as parchment paper.

Perhaps that was why he was the last to realise, it only dawning on him when he felt her hand slip in under his coat to where he kept his gun.

“No!”, Tommy hissed as he felt the absence of the weight. “Fucking no!”

His fingers felt foreign to him as they tried to grab her.

He had aimed for her hand to wretch the gun from it, but instead had only managed to grasp her coat.

“(Y/N)...”, he warned, every syllable of her name making his throat ache. “Don’t you dare-”

His threat ended in a groan of pain as his leg buckled again.

Both her and Arthur immediately rushed towards him to hold him up.

Her face was so close to his she must’ve felt his ragged breath on her cheek.

“John please!”, she insisted.

The desperation in her voice was even more agonising than the pain in his side.

“Don’t, John!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare, soldier.”

But he wasn’t in France now, no Sergeant Major that could order his men. And his men had no obligation to follow his command.

“She’s right, Tom.”, Arthur said, glancing at the door. “She’s right. You know she is. You need to go to a hospital.”

“Fucking no!”

The hiss of pain made made his desperation even more clearer, while his lips felt dry even though the words he said were sloppy.

His fingers coiled so deeply into her sleeve he could feel the fibres he could feel the wool coming apart. And yet as soon as she stepped back, his fingers slipped away without purpose and void of any strength they might once have held.

“I love you very much, you know?”, she told him, without tears, or a tremble in her voice.

And her certainty terrified him to his core.

These words came easy to her, at least when it came to him. She told him often and frequent, and he had heard these words spoken in joy and in sadness, in fear and in doubt.

She said them without expectation, without any intention but to make it known to him.

Tommy had heard these words far more often than he had ever said them, chosing to reply with other means, with kisses and caresses.

She knew, of course, that he loved her. She had to know, because it was so obvious to Tommy, laced in anything he did or said, but he couldn't remember ever saying it.

And he was incapable of saying it now. Instead the terror that had spread through his body infected his voice.

“Don’t do this, don’t fucking do this. Arthur, don’t let her do this.”, he insisted, reaching out to his brother’s face, which, like (Y/N)’s face was becoming blurry. Please.

He needed his brother, he always needed his brother, his other half, his right hand and right now he needed him more than ever.

He needed him to see sense. He needed him to stop her.

She wasn’t a soldier, she had no experience shooting anything but bottles and pigeons and he hadn’t even allowed her to hold a gun in the last few years.

Even if she knew how to shoot, she couldn’t shoot like that. Like them.

The men firing at them were soldiers who had seen active combat in France, where experience was only trumped by blind luck, which never could be relied upon.

Tommy didn’t know why they were even considering this for a single second. It was beyond madness.

His other arm was lifted and he was pulled up.

“It’ll be alright. It’ll be alright, eh, brother?”, he heard John lie to him.

Tommy tried to shake his head, to argue, to order them.

If he pulled away and could support his own weight, it would be fine. She would be fine.

He couldn’t let her do this. It was foolish and reckless and they were after him, not her. He couldn’t let her do this, not for him.

Fuck.

None of them had thought it through, how could they not see that?

If they took him to the hospital, they’d have to take the car and that meant she wouldn’t have a chance to get away. She’d be left here all alone-

How could they be so fucking idiotic?

Tommy wanted to tell them, to scream at them, to make them understand…

But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.

His vision kept blurring and any strength he had one had in his arms and legs was reduced to near nothing.

And there was nothing he could do as John and Arthur half carried, half dragged him towards the exit.

Tommy fought the darkness for as long as he could, with everything he had, but every time he forced his eyes to open again, it became harder and harder with the rush in his ears growing ever louder.

Everything around him had already turned to black, when he heard the exchange of fire.

At any other time it would have sent his body and mind into wild alert, but today it was the last thing he perceived before slipping into nothingness.

End

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind! If you are interested in more, here is my [Masterlist]

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @watercolorskyy

@books-livre @chlorrox

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly

#valentineswritings #Blighty One #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders #Thomas Shelby #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby one shot #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Thomas Shelby x reader #Thomas Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby one shot #Thomas Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby Angst #Thomas Shelby Angst

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runesandmoons · 2 years

Text

Who She Listens To

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Y/N enters a forbidden room and Tommy must make sure she knows her place.

Warnings: 18+, smut with a little plot, dom!Tommy, RAGING SIR KINK, impact play (belting, spanking), face slaps, light choking, degradation, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up!)

A/N: So this is the one shot I wanted to write based off of my dream I had a few weeks ago. This was totally self indulgent, but I thought other people might enjoy this besides me 🤪😉 Also, this is in no way a building the Blinders own, but it was a part of my dream and the main reason for the smut, so I had to add it in there. Just vibe with me on the location of it 😂 This is the first smut I’ve written in months, so if it’s bad, please ignore it 🥺

Word Count: 3072

Hearing loud noises on her way to visit Tommy didn’t faze her anymore, but when she rounded the corner to find his brothers throwing another man to the ground, she couldn’t help but stop to listen.

“Tell Tommy I’m sorry, yeah?” She didn’t recognize the voice, but she did register the fear in it. This was greeted with a scoff and John’s laugh. “I think it’s a bit too late for that.” Quick “nos” fell from the lips of the other man.

Y/N jumped when she heard the man yelp, and she quickly ducked around the corner, trying to remain hidden. Arthur’s voice chimed in, “You tell your boss he owes us twice the money he stole from us.” John laughed again, though this time his laugh was much crueler. “You give ‘em this message for us too.”

She didn’t have to see it to know what was happening. With the whimpers and groans the man was letting out, Y/N knew the Shelby brothers were delivering their message. She heard rustling on the ground, forced grunts from John and Arthur, the squelching of blood, and brutal hits. When a loud clang sounded off, she cringed. That certainly didn’t sound good.

“Alright, John boy. That’s enough. Let’s load ‘em up.” Y/N ducked further around the corner when she heard them dragging the man’s body to the car that was parked in front of the building. She listened as they roughly placed him in the car. After hearing their doors slam shut and the car begin to drive off, she emerged from the corner.

Curiosity pulled at her as she looked at the building where the violent scene had just occurred. Tommy had told her to meet him at his office, but being a few minutes late wouldn’t matter, right?

She took a few steps toward the front entrance, looking down as she saw blood on the door frame. Her heart felt like it was in her stomach. This must have been where John busted the man’s head. Eyes flitting up, she turned the handle of the door. She was cautious as she entered the building, Tommy’s words echoing in her mind: “You are not to enter this place, understand?”

A large staircase stood before her, rooms on either side of it. Though she was interested in what was in the rooms, the staircase beckoned her forward. She tiptoed up the stairs, looking over each shoulder as she moved further up. When she reached the point of the railing where she could see the second floor, she slowed to a stop, looking through the railing to see if she could see anyone. The building was strangely quiet, and it looked like no one was there. She went further up, eventually reaching the top. After another scan of the room, she walked forward, deciding to explore the left side of the room first.

“What are you doing here?”

She jumped, a tiny yelp escaping her lips. Quickly turning around, she saw Tommy standing on the opposite side of the room. He must have come from another room because she could have sworn no one else was there. Hands in his pockets, he clenched his jaw as he stared at the woman before him. She could tell by the tone of his voice that he was displeased. She opened her mouth to reply, but her words failed her.

“I asked you a question.”

She swallowed. “I- I heard John and Arthur with another man outside. I stopped to listen, and when they drove off I walked to where they were.” Hands crossed in front of her waist, she was already squirming under his gaze. She knew she wasn’t meant to be here, so his anger was justified.

Tommy simply stared at her for a moment before humming in response. Taking a step toward her, he responded, “So that gave you the right to come inside?” He lowered his head as he continued walking in her direction.

“No.”

He abruptly stopped moving, his eyes shooting up. One of his eyebrows was raised, and his mouth was slightly agape. If he wasn’t so angry at her, she would comment on how picturesque he looked. “Excuse me?”

Y/N shifted her weight, rubbing her thighs together in the process. She knew exactly what he wanted her to say, signaling what she was in for. “No, sir.” He hummed again, satisfied.

“So, why the fuck are you here, pet?” He stopped a few feet from her, arms crossed. She swallowed thickly. None of her answers would satisfy him, but she knew she had to speak.

“I- I was on m- my way to see you.”

“Oh, you found me.” Tommy chuckled under his breath, a dark look glazing over his eyes. “In the wrong place.”

Y/N found herself speaking before her brain could stop her. “But no one is here! I don’t see what the fuss is about this place.” Her eyes widen, realizing what she had just said.

In an instant, Tommy was in front of her. He smacked her face lightly before grabbing it roughly, his other hand pointing a finger in her face. He gripped her cheeks so tight that her lips pursed. “You don’t fucking speak to me like that.”

After what felt like five minutes of him intensely staring at her, he let her go, cheeks snapping back in place. He then wrapped his hand around her arm, dragging her toward the room he had appeared in. His grip on her arm was tight, sure to leave a bruise. “Bad things happen here because bad men work for me.” He spoke as he walked.

“Well where are they?” He shot a quick glance of annoyance in her direction before looking ahead again, jaw clenching.

“I had business to take care of, so I let them do another job for me elsewhere.” He let go of her arm when they reached a table. Her hand moved to massage the spot where his grip had seared into her. Tommy turned from her, removing his jacket in the process. He set it on a nearby chair. “Seems I need to continue my business.” He began rolling up his sleeves as he faced her again. “Strip.”

“Wh- what?” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, already feeling exposed even though she hadn’t removed any of her clothing.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Her eyes shot to the floor. “‘M sorry, Tommy. I won’t come here again.”

“I know you won’t, but it seems I need to remind you of who it is you listen to.” He eyed her expectantly. Slowly, she began unbuttoning her blouse. She let it fall to the floor before moving onto her skirt. Following her skirt was her shoes, then finally, her undergarments. Hands quickly covered her chest again.

“No need covering yourself for me, pet.” Her hands fall to her side. Though she wasn’t looking forward to whatever punishment Tommy was about to inflict, she couldn’t deny the heat rising through her core.

After he was satisfied with his sleeves, he moved to unbuckle his belt, causing Y/N to swallow. “Disobeying my orders, talking back to me, what kind of punishment do you think you deserve?” His eyes watched hers as he awaited her answer. He noticed how she shifted her weight between her legs more frequently.

“Whatever is best, sir.” Another hum from Tommy. When he didn’t respond, Y/N knew her answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I deserve the belt, sir.”

“You do.” After he had removed his belt, he folded it in half. Kicking the chair out of the way, he stated, “Over the table.” Y/N moved into place, leaning over the table, her ass exposed in the air. The table was cold against her bare chest, causing chills to course through her body. Her arms laid flat beside her, hands on either side of her face. She felt Tommy move to stand behind her. He laid the belt across the small of her back, causing her to jump from the unseen movement. His hand came to rest against her ass while the other spread her legs apart.

Once he was satisfied with her positioning, his hand left her inner thigh, trailing up to her folds. She gasped as his fingers moved through her slick. He chuckled, “Already so wet and I haven’t even touched you. You must like being exposed like a whore.” His fingers abruptly left her heat as they made their way into her hair, yanking her back against his chest. “After every strike I want you to apologize to me.” His other hand wrapped around her throat, putting just enough pressure against it to where it was hard to swallow. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll stop after fifteen.” He removed his hands, letting her fall back to the table. As he picked up the belt from where it stayed on her back, she tried to compose herself before he began.

He dragged the belt along her ass to tease her and build up the anticipation. This just caused her to squirm against him, letting her guard down a bit. She heard the first crack before she felt it. Soon after, the overwhelming stinging sensation followed, jolting her forward. She called out. Tommy never went easy when he used the belt.

“‘M sorry.”

She cried out again as he smacked her once more, this time on her cunt. “What are you supposed to say, whore?”

“‘M sorry, sir!” Tears welled in her eyes. Another smack across her ass. “‘M sorry, sir!” This time a tear fell from her eye. She could already feel her chest beginning to heave, and he’d only struck her twice. The third strike caused her to clench her fists. Another apology. The fourth and fifth caused a pool of drool on the table under her mouth. Two more apologies. On the sixth and seventh, Tommy pressed against her white-hot ass, allowing her to feel how hard she’d made him. The next two apologies sounded delectable to him. The eighth and ninth apologies came out as sobs, her ass sore and welted. Ten and eleven caused her legs to shake uncontrollably, her apologies coming out slurred. On the twelfth and thirteenth strikes, Tommy lowered the belt, striking across her thighs and on her cunt. Two more choked apologies. Fourteen and fifteen were back in place, eliciting moans from her, grateful for their positioning. She gave him her last two apologies.

Tommy pulled her up by her hair, her back against his chest once more. “Seems you were a good girl.” His voice was low and raspy as he stared down at her. Her face was tear stained, mouth parted as she tried to catch her breath. She was a dream. He shifted his hips forward, his cock pressing against her ass. Her eyes fluttered shut as a quiet moan left her lips. Tommy groaned in response before lowering his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, tongue exploring her mouth. She submitted to him, allowing his tongue to dominate hers. As he broke the kiss, he flipped her to face him, guiding her to her knees. “Show me what your mouth should be used for.”

Y/N began tugging at his pants, trying to unbutton them quickly. As soon as the button was undone she felt a quick slap to the face to get her attention. Looking up, she saw that look of expectancy on Tommy’s face again. “What do you fucking say, eh?”

“Yes, sir.” She moaned after the words left her lips. Pushing past his pants, she freed his cock from his boxer shorts. After stroking him a few times, she brought her mouth to the tip.

Her eyes flitted up to his, noticing he was watching her, as she pressed light kisses over his tip and down his shaft. His normally icy eyes were darkened with lust, the blue hue nearly gone. After pressing another kiss to the tip, she sank her mouth down his length. His mouth parted as he held eye contact with her, his brows furrowing in.

She started slow, allowing her throat to get used to his length. Soon he was hitting the back of her throat, which resulted in low moans from him. She could feel herself growing wetter from the sounds of his moans. His hand eventually tangled in her hair, pushing her deeper on his cock. His head fell back as he felt her choking around him. Her hands made their way to rest on his hips to steady herself, Tommy now controlling her speed as he pushed her head down his length.

“Fuck…that’s it.” He licked his lips before glancing down at her again. Tears were in the corner of her eyes, her hair was messy around his fingers, and he felt so damn close as he watched her swallow his length with each push of her head. She moaned around him, causing his cock to twitch and a groan to escape his lips.

As he felt himself nearing the edge, he abruptly pulled her away from him. He held her head back as he looked down at her. Her own saliva down her chin, mouth open as she caught her breath, eyes blown out. He was so fucking lucky. His hand left her hair, making its way across her cheek, past her lips, and onto her throat. Squeezing gently, he pulled her to her feet.

Pressing his lips to hers again, he could taste himself. Her lips felt swollen. Again, he broke the kiss to flip her around, pushing her down to the table. He made quick work of her positioning, spreading her legs with his own. His hand glided over her bruised ass, making its way to her slick.

“Mm, so fucking wet.” Another moan from Y/N. Even though her backside would be bruised for a few days, she couldn’t deny that Tommy made her feel alive, insatiable.

He replaced his fingers with the tip of his head as he lined himself with her entrance. Without allowing her to prepare, he pushed himself inside her until his hips were flush with her ass. Another moan left him as he felt her walls squeezing around him.

“That’s my good girl.”

Her eyes fluttered shut from his remark. She still wasn’t used to his size, her nails scratching against the table as he began to move inside her. His hands grabbed her hips to hold her steady as he moved at a fast pace.

Soon the room was filled with their moans and the wet sounds of him slamming into her. He pressed himself against her back, leaning over her shoulder to get closer to her face. She could feel his hot breath, the familiar smell of whiskey and cigarettes striking her.

“Do you think you’ve learned your lesson, pet?” His lips brushed hers he was so close to her. She was only able to muster a breathy “yes” as a response. In this position, he was hitting the spot that made her weak, and he knew it.

“Mm, so who is it you listen to?” He was staring at her so intently that she felt the carnal urge to flip him over and fuck him dry, but she knew she couldn’t. This was about him showing his power, his dominance, over her. And she would submit to him for as long as she lived. She was his.

A particularly rough thrust left her breathless. A gasp left her lips as she began seeing stars. His thrusts were relentless, just another way for him to demonstrate his ownership over her. When he wrapped his hand in her hair, yanking her head back, her eyes shot open to see he was waiting on her response.

“Fuck. You, Tommy. I fucking listen to you.” He moaned quietly as he smirked. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Think you can sit on that pretty ass so I can look at you?”

She nodded vigorously. “Yes, sir.”

He wasted no time in flipping her over, helping her sit on the desk. He pushed her legs open to stand between her, quickly pushing himself inside her again. He matched his previous pace. Her legs wrapped around his waist to steady herself as he fucked her carnally.

Grabbing her face in his hand, he pressed his lips to hers. They moaned against each other as they sloppily kissed. They were both beginning to unravel. His free hand found its way to one of her breasts, and he started squeezing her nipple between his fingers. She moaned into his mouth, causing his cock to twitch inside of her.

“Touch yourself, pet.” He started pressing kisses down her jaw and down her neck. “Want to watch you make yourself cum on my cock.” Her head fell back at the sound of his words, another moan escaping her. Her hand made its way down her body to find her clit. As she began rubbing circles, a flurry of whines came from her.

Tommy wrapped his hand around her throat as he kept his other hand on her nipple, alternating between flicks and squeezes. He watched as she moved her fingers faster, her whines intensifying as well.

“Please, Tommy, ‘m close.” He moaned in response, quickening his pace.

“Cum for me.”

She allowed herself to feel her release, her legs shaking uncontrollably. The stars she saw earlier returned, her head feeling light as she closed her eyes. She couldn’t feel anything else but Tommy’s hands on her body and his cock inside her.

He didn’t last much longer as her walls clenched around his cock. He cursed as he came inside her, his hand around her throat tightening for a moment.

As they came down from their highs, Tommy rested his head against hers. They sat in silence as they caught their breath. His hand fell from her throat as they relaxed, placing a soft kiss against her lips before pulling away. She whined as he pulled out of her.

He adjusted himself back in his pants before buttoning them back. She watched him with lazy eyes as he grabbed his jacket and walked back to her. After wrapping it around her shoulders, he left his hands there, looking into her eyes with a softer expression than when she first saw him.

“Let’s get you home to clean you up, eh?”

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

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berrypockets · 2 months

Text

Voiceless: Threads of Eternity | Faded Unwoven Threads

Tommy Shelby x Reader

As their lives unfolded in unexpected ways, Grace, a newcomer to Small Heath, entered the picture. Unaware of Tommy's connection with Y/N, she found herself drawn to him, weaving her own threads into the tapestry of their destinies.

Grace, with a coy smile, would often find reasons to strike up conversations with Tommy at the Garrison. "Tommy, you're a hard man to find alone. Care for some company?"

Tommy, always polite but with Y/N in the back of his mind, would engage in casual banter. "Well, Grace, it seems like the Garrison is never short of company. What brings you here today?"

Thus, in the echoes of destiny, the quiet beginnings of Tommy and Y/N's story took root. Little did they know that the complexities of love, loyalty, and the ever-present shadows of Small Heath would shape their lives in ways they could scarcely imagine.

Voiceless Masterlist | Threads of Eternity Masterlist | Next Chapter

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eviegray · 2 years

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❛ dating thomas shelby would include ❜

。being loved by thomas it's like drinking a warm cup of tea on a cold winter day. it feels right, comforting and brings you safety.

。while he's notoriously known for rarely showing emotions, tommy doesn't spare you from his love. when you two are alone at home, he is always holding you close and placing soft pecks all over your face.

。a day doesn't go by where he doesn't remind you how close he holds you to his heart.

。he is a very good listener, and will always be there for you, no matter what. every time you have something going on, tommy will always be the one working out a solution with you... he never wants you to go through anything alone.

。"i'm here and i love you. i don't care if i have to stay up with you when you cry all night long. i will stay with you. there is nothing you can ever do to loose my love.'

。spoils you... spoils you rotten. anything you want is yours.

。"my eyes adore you darling, but it's my soul that fell in love with you."

。we all know the man gets injured all the bloody time, and he loves when you take care of him after. the way you softly clean his cuts or wipe the blood of his body... finishing with a loving kiss.

。loves you more than life itself. in fact, he often feels like you're the reason why his life makes sense. he could never let you go.

。dead is the man that even considers harming you.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby one shot #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders fluff #thomas shelby fluff #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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strayrockette · 2 years

Text

Save Yourself

Summary: the reader is inconsolable because Tommy Shelby broke her.

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x oc

Genre: Angst

Trigger Warning: Mentions of blood. Lots of angst. beware.

A/N: For @runnning-outof-time request for angst inspired by KALEO's song Save Yourself. This took me out of my writing funk. Writing a 20-page research paper really sucked my creative juices but this song really helped correct that for me! Also made me cry a ton in the process.

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Thomas Shelby was not the kind of man you crossed. Nor the kind of man to bend easily to others' will. Even when he was in love and willing to do so much, even then, there was no persuading him in turning away from his destructive tendencies.

"Choose me. Tommy, just choose me." Her voice quivered, "That's all you have to do."

She thought it was a simple request. Choose her and live life. But Thomas Shelby was no simple man. It was the last thing she requested of him. Choose her above all else. Choose her over his work. Over his persistent need to self-destruct. To spiral out of control.

She could hear him distantly shouting about how he had more work to do and couldn't walk away like she wished. Like she knew he wanted but refused to admit.

"I'm doing this for you. For us." He'd whisper at night. His head nestled deep into her neck, his breath fanning her skin with heat. His hands would be soft and warm as they guided themselves over her curves, her familiar curves he loved so much. He'd kiss her senseless as if to chase away her discontent. To remind her of better times. But what good were better times when every minute of their lives was spent in fear? In danger.

And every time he'd crawl back to her, lost and hopeless and desperate for her touch, for her forgiveness, she'd chase away his empty words with the truth.

"No, you don't." She'd grab his hands and pull him closer. Bury her body into his chest and he'd allow it because its' what he wanted, "You do it for yourself, Thomas. Don't lie to me."

And he'd go quiet. Pensive. Words would fail him because the truth had beaten him. She knew it. He knew it. The world around them knew it.

Despite all her anger and hurt at his refusal to live a simpler life, she stayed by his side. Waiting. Hoping foolishly that one day he'd save himself for her.

She'd kiss away his bruises, wipe away the blood with a disgruntled face and accept him in her bed. Because the alternative to that was to cast him away and she could never cast away his love for she was desperate for him. She'd drown in his scent, his kisses, drown and embed herself into her lover because she couldn't bare to not have it at all.

"Honey, its time." Polly's voice was soft. Gently probing her to move from her position. She smelt of lilac and honey and a hint of whisky. Oh, how the scent of whisky twisted her guts.

"Choose me." She sniffed. "I asked him to choose me."

Silence passed uncomfortably. "It should have been simple. Easy."

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, "Why couldn't he just choose me?" She rocked back and forth in the dirt. The wind wailing along with her, "All he had to do was CHOOSE ME."

Choose her and have all the whisky he'd like. Choose her and live happily in their dream home in the countryside. Choose her and have a ton of babes to love and coddle. But no.

He didn't. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Because he was Thomas Shelby and life was much sweeter when he was chasing death. But what could be more enticing than living a life with a lover who would hold you at night when it got too cold? More enticing than burying your head into their neck and smelling their very being? More enticing than living? Just living?

"More than me?" She whispered into the stark air. "What was so important than me?"

"You know-"

"I don't know. I DON'T FUCKING KNOW. That's the problem, Polly." She cried.

She was broken and he made her that way.

"Live with me." She'd whisper after a night of dancing in the dark of their room. She'd felt his chest rumble with laughter, "I am, love."

She'd closed her eyes and wept inside, No you're not.

She should have asked him to live for her. live for me, stop chasing death so blindly, she wanted to beg him. Perhaps she should have chained him to her. Locked him away in their new cellar and throw away the key. She'd brace his fury if it meant he was alive. Living and breathing.

But chaining and locking him away would not stop him. Nothing did.

Sometimes she'd look at him and see her old Tommy. The one before the war, but so much had changed. He rarely stayed for long. It wasn't noticeable at first. But as the years passed Thomas Shelby grew ambitious. Relentless. Unstoppable on his quest to climb up in life. But she allowed it because it meant having everything they didn't have as children.

"Just you wait, we'll live in a big house, with plenty of space to roam." His hands had traced the litter of birthmarks on her forearms. A favorite pastime of his. "No more sharing spaces with annoying twats"

She laughed because it was so silly. So daring to dream bigger than themselves. He'd pinch her sides and kiss her lips softly, whispering into her skin as she drifted away, "We'll be happy."

She should have told him then, that night, in the lull of their lovemaking-re-familiarizing themselves with each other- that she was happy. So happy in fact, that nothing would ruin it.

Except him. Of course. Because Thomas Shelby did the impossible. Broke her heart into a million pieces with no way of fixing it.

"Why didn't he choose me? Polly?" Tears shed uncontrollably as she asked the one question that would plague her for the rest of her life, "Why couldn't he live for me?"

Her fingers dug into the dirt. Her tear-tracked face stared emptily at his gravestone. Pristine and clean just like the three-piece suits he wore. His name was engraved beautifully, and it somehow reminded her of his own writing. If she closed her eyes and thought hard enough, she swears she could smell him. His musky earthy scent with a hint of aftershave. She might even be able to hear his chuckle, a deep baritone sound that vibrated her core. Rooted her in place. But now it carried her away, deep into the expanse of her tumbling mind.

Polly's hand on her shoulder was the only thing that brought her back to reality. The only thing to chase away her memories of him and the pain it brought.

There was no answer to her question. And if there was. It wasn't satisfying. The truth often was-dissatisfying that is.

Because there's no point in telling a dead man to live and save himself for someone else.

Taglist:

@mysticalpandora @ultimatreality @watercolorskyy @lovecleastrange @rockerchick05

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prettyboyswow · 2 years

Note

Omg i just read your dad!tommy fic, and it was amazing!! Would you do a second part? Grandad!tommy would be just so great to read :)

Yes!! Thank you for reading and for being so patient with me!

----

Author's Note: Hello, everyone!! I'm back with some Tommy Shelby fluff! I hope you enjoyyyy

Pairing: Dad!Tommy x female!reader, Grandad!Tommy x granddaughter

Summary: Tommy Shelby's granddaughter has him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

Warnings: None, pure fluff!!!

----

Thomas Shelby thought that his heart couldn't hold any more love in it after his daughter was born. Boy, was he wrong. The day his granddaughter, Eleanor Rose, was born, Thomas' heart grew three sizes. The first time he held her tiny body in his arms he wept like a child. He swore that he would do anything and everything for the sleeping baby in his arms, as long as he should live.

When (Y/N) and Lucas brought baby Eleanor home from the hospital and back to Arrow House, they were welcomed with brightly colored flowers littered about the house. Thomas, and the rest of the Shelby family, insisted that the new mother and baby came back to a home that represented the love they were all feeling.

Eleanor had been home for a total of three nights but (Y/N) felt as though she hadn't slept in 3 weeks. It was 2:34 am when Thomas heard the wailing of his granddaughter. Well, at least he thought it was about 2:34, his eyes were still blurry with sleep. Not long after he heard Eleanor crying, he heard the sniffle of his own daughter. He lazily rolled out of bed and made his way down the hall to Eleanor's nursery.

In the soft glow of the moonlight peeking through the curtains, Thomas saw his baby girl rocking her baby girl in the wooden rocking chair by the window. Eleanor's crying had not stopped and it seemed that (Y/N)'s hadn't either.

"What's got her so upset," Thomas' groggy, sleepy-laden voice broke through the cries. (Y/N) jumped at her father's voice, quickly trying to wipe the tears from her own face.

"I don't know, dad. I've tried feeding her, and her diaper's clean. I don't know what she wants and I am so tired." It all came out in a rushed whisper. Seeing the helplessness in his daughter's eyes and hearing the cries coming from his granddaughter was enough to break his heart.

"Lemme give it a try. Used to get you to stop crying so easily it drove your mum mad." Thomas approached the girls, gathering Eleanor up into his arms before her mother could protest.

(Y/N) watched as her father slowly swayed her little girl in his arms, listening as he whispered something in Romani. After a few minutes, the newborn's cries lulled into whimpers until only small snores passed her small mouth. If (Y/N) wasn't so happy to finally be sitting in silence, she may have been angry at her father for how easily he was able to comfort her daughter.

"You've got to teach me how to do that," she mumbled, causing Thomas to let out a soft chuckle.

"In the morning, love. Get your rest."

(Y/N) only nodded, giving her daughter and her father a peck on the cheek each before leaving the room.

Before laying Eleanor in her bassinet, Thomas placed the tiniest, softest kiss on her forehead. He swore anything more than a feather-like kiss would somehow hurt her. After Eleanor was laying peacefully in her bassinet, Thomas took a moment to appreciate his life. He had an amazing daughter. She was beautiful, hard-working, kind, and such a wonderful mother. He had even grown to care for Lucas, mainly because he had a hand in creating his teeny-tiny, angelic granddaughter. He spent his days doting on the girls in his life, giving them the kinds of things he could have only dreamed of as a child. He was proud. And he was so full of love.

#prettyboyswow #prettyboyswow requests #prettyboyswow ask #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x daughter!reader #tommy shelby x daughter! reader

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mayfieldss · 4 months

Text

Point blank - Thomas Shelby

Summary: When you are held at gunpoint by one of Tommy's many enemies, he must come to terms with his feelings.

Warnings: being held at gunpoint (obvi), blood, violence, language, suggestive content. Not spell checked at all so beware.

The cool metal against the side of your skull wasn't exactly the feeling you had hoped for as the night dragged on. You'd thought about many things, and many people that could bring you pleasure and fun, and you'd thought of a warm bed you would love to curl up in when it got too late to stay awake. But this, the gun pressed firmly to your head, had not been one of the sensations you'd hoped for.

"Call him outside," the man holding the gun shouted to a maid who had stumbled upon the scene. She'd clearly stepped out of the Shelby estate in the hopes of a smoke break, as had you, but was met with a more than shocking ordeal. Tommy's side piece, as many had called you, held at gunpoint by an angry stranger.

She ran ahead inside, and you knew Tommy would be out in a matter of minutes. This was a regular sunday for him. For you, though, it was not something you wanted to occur at all, let alone more than once.

"Mathison," Tommy calls, accent thick as a small fog accompanies his words. The night is cold, and everyone that dares speak becomes a dragon. "I doubt this is nessacary." His hands are raised in a disarming gesture, but you know Tommy well enough. In his eyes, there's concern, worry, and that does not at all ease your nerves.

"You said you'd pay me, give me the money for my family, Tommy, you promised." The man that stands behind you grips tighter to your body, your back flush to his chest as the barrel of the gun digs into your skin.

"You'll get your money in good time, I'm an honest man, Mathison, now let the lady go free." He spares a glance to you, and you can tell he wished he hadn't as soon as it happens. His eyes darken as though he won't be able to scrub the memory free of his mind. Not that you matter that much to be remembered. Not to someone like Tommy. You were just a woman he met in dark corners, after all.

"I want the money now!" The mans shout beside your ear makes you flinch, and the gun shakes in his hands. "It's been weeks, and I want what I was promised!" The man is not at all stable, and with his finger so close to the trigger, you aren't confident in your survival rate.

"Tommy, give him the money. Please." You shouldn't speak. It could earn you a number of consequences, but the fear is stronger than rational thought.

Perhaps the same goes for Tommy because you swear you see him think it over. He flexs his hand at his side, trying to stretch out the tension writhing within him. He is a man of business, not of love, and time and time again that four letter word has ruined him. But seeing you, under threat of harm, stirs a particular amount of concern.

"I don't take kindly to threats against my family. And it looks as though you may be threatening me? Am I correct?"

The man behind you doesn't say anything. His hand still shakes and his grip on you is painful, but he knows that to say yes is to mean consequence, and to say no, would be to lie to Thomas Shelby, which won't end well either.

"Right. Well, I'm having a fucking party inside, one that I would be hosting if I wasn't needed to deal to this. I think the best course of action is for you to put the gun down and leave the premises. You will get your money tomorrow, Mr Mathison." His words sound so final. You can almost believe the man that has a hold of you will listen. Perhaps he is listening because slowly, the gun isn't as close to you anymore.

The gunshot is loud, deafening, and your ears ring with the sound of it. You would have thought that was because you were bleeding out, were it not for the loud scream that fell from your lips at the same time as the sound. If you had, in fact, been shot point blank in the head, you would not have time to scream.

The man that once had a hold of you tumbles backward, and you, in shock, fall to your knees in relief, as well as an attempt to lower the chances of being hit by another stray bullet.

Your first mistake was to look back, eyes locking on the blood pooling around the now fallen mans head. You could have been in the same position just moments before.

"Look at me." Tommy's hands come to grasp the sides of your face, not giving you a choice in the matter. He's on his knees in front of you, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. "Are you alright?"

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut despite his order, and begin to cry. It's embarrassing to do so, but there's is no way you couldn't bring yourself to. Tommy pulls you into his chest, and despite how mad at him you are, you let him.

His heart races as the sound of the gunshot echoes in his own mind, and the feeling of your heavy breaths taken between sobs while devastating, is the most reassuring action in the moment. You're breathing, which means he's kept you safe for now.

Later that night, you are sat on the edge of Tommy's bed, still reeling from the nights events. He'd left you in order to send the party guests away and had only just returned.

"I lied before." You mumble as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. "I'm not alright."

Looking at him fills you with the deepest anger, how he can stand there, and undo his tie with hands that don't so much as quiver.

"You are a dangerous man, Thomas. I could have died tonight, all because I was foolish enough to get in your bed."

Tommy nods, and you hate the minimal response. "I wasn't going to let him shoot you."

"He could've shot me whether you let him or not!" Your voice is raising even as you don't want it to. He's too calm in the face of this, and that says all it needs to. "We're done, Tommy."

You stand to leave, ignoring the way your muscles feel, still tense even after the ordeal is over. The door is one step away by the time Tommy decides to speak again, but you're already in the hall before he can make a point.

"I did what I had to do to keep you safe." He's followed you out, looking more disheveled now with his tie long gone and shirt half unbuttoned.

"Am I safe with you, Tommy? Because it doesn't feel like it." You're unable to face him, eyes locked on the staircase you so desperately want to run down.

"I can't promise peace if that's what you're askin', but I won't let anyone hurt you. Not as long as I'm alive." His hand on your shoulder is what makes you turn, and you stare him down with what courage you have left.

"Do you love me, Thomas Shelby? Because if you don't, I can't understand why I'd be worth the trouble." It's more of a dare than a question because you're sure he'll say no. And once he says it, you'll have more than enough reason to leave him and never return.

Tommy exhales harshly, and you can smell the cigarettes on his breath, mixed with whiskey from the party. It's not a unique scent among men you've met, but somehow, on Tommy, it's more of an indulgence.

"I thought you knew that already." He mutters, lips closer to yours than they were before. "But I'm sure I can clarify a few things." His hands fall to your waist, a daring gesture but one that isn't uncommon for the both of you before his lips are on yours. Your anger is forced out of you in the form of a kiss, one that is messy and desperate in a way you've only known with Tommy. His breath mixes with yours as do other elements of him, until finally you push him away.

"I'm not forcing you to say it, Thomas. But for fucks sake tell me straight. Do you or do you not love me?"

Tommy grunts in frustration, running a hand over his face. He's an honest man in his own opinion, and he wants to be honest with you, but in doing so he has to do the same for himself. That's harder than most things Tommy does for a living.

"Love is more dangerous than I am, sweetheart. And believe me, my love isn't something you want."

"Yes or no, Tommy." You've pushed back every tear within you and stand like a soldier before him, ready to march away. He clears his throat, loud in the silent hallway.

"Yes. Yes, I fucking love you. now can we please go back to bed?"

You don't answer, but simply wander past him to his room. It's dimly lit, and the sheets look more than inviting after the day you've had. You turn back to him once inside, catching his eyes on your figure.

"I love you too, Tommy."

Slowly, a smile creeps onto his lips, and his eyes cloud over with a look you know too well. "Let's go to bed."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:

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lostgirlfandom · 1 year

Text

Affection

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 267

It was a slow day in the Shelby household. Thomas was in his office, working on paperwork again. You were also in his office, knitting on the loveseat. Charlie was on the floor, playing a toy train.

You hummed quietly to yourself as you knitted a scarf, every once in awhile looking up to look at Charlie and then Thomas.

Soon enough, one of the maids came in with afternoon tea and dropped it off at the small table in front of the loveseat. You smiled at the maid and thanked her softly. Setting your work down, you sat up and leaned over to make a small plate of the small sandwiches the maid had made Charlie. You placed it in front of him when he came over to the table.

“Here you go, darlin.” You smiled at him and ran a hand over his head. Kissing his forehead, you set about making Thomas a cuppa. You then brought it over to him and stood behind him. Setting the cup down next to his work so it wouldn’t get on his paperwork.

You then wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed just behind his ear. He leaned back into you and sighed contently. He raised a hand up to hold your arm.

“What is this?” He spoke softly.

You grinned gently. “Affection.” You teased him.

He chuckled and teased back “Disgusting.”

You both chuckled for a moment. Followed by a brief silence.

“Do it again.” He whispered into your ear with a small growl.

You flushed and grinned wider before leaning in to kiss him passionately.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby drabble #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby drabble #gender neutral reader #reader insert #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders drabble

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multifandomfix · 2 years

Text

Violent Melody - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Tommy hires you to sing at the Garrison and after growing fond of you and your performances, takes it upon himself to be your protector.

Word Count: 1,308

Warnings: Harassment, violence

It wouldn’t hurt the Garrison to have a little culture. That’s what Polly had told him, and that’s what led to hours of auditioning girls to sing at the Garrison a few nights a week. Tommy was keen on finding just the right girl to bring the aforementioned culture to their little pub. And as soon as you hit that first note, he knew that singer was going to be you. He let Arthur and John put in their opinions as well, but regardless what they’d said, Tommy had more than made up his mind. You were everything he was searching for. Beautiful and unobtainable in the way that lounge and pub singers often were, a starlet plucked from the crowd on her way towards her big break. And with the voice of an angel to boot.

"You’re hired," Tommy said with a smile, a smile which only grew when you beamed one of your own right back at him. His brothers nodded in approval and you started with your first set at the Garrison that very night. It was a small crowd for your first performance. Tommy promised you a bigger audience the following night, when he’d had time to get the word around, but you were happy enough with the smaller, more intimate crowd for a warm up. You actually thought you could grow comfortable there.

As promised, however, the following night did bring in a much larger crowd for you to perform for. Though it was a bit more intimidating, you dazzled just as you had the night before, and during your initial audition. The applause was infectious, and you were finding more confidence in your voice and performance.

Before you knew it a month had gone by and your gig was less new and more familiar, but nonetheless thrilling. Every time you got on stage you felt like a new person, radiating an energy unlike any you’d ever had offstage. And it was always fueled by the familiar face of Thomas Shelby in the crowd. Sometimes he’d sit front and center, often when he was alone. Other times, he’d sit in the back with various other members of the Shelby clan. Either way, you knew the night would be a great one just for seeing his face as he listened to you sing.

This night, however, wasn’t quite as normal as the rest. You began your first number as always, soaking in the spotlight, and searching the room for Tommy's face, spotting him towards the back this time, sitting with Arthur. A sense of relief washed over you as you continued your song. Eyes fixed on Tommy, you didn’t notice the man sitting in front, eyeing you up and down. A couple of songs later, and you were ready for your intermission.

You loved the reprieve, being able to rest your voice for a few minutes and have a drink before getting back to it. It made your job feel more like a fun night out, and it had all been courtesy of one Thomas Shelby. Typically, he came over and asked how you were doing, but tonight some other bloke had beat him to it.

"Evening, gorgeous," the man flirted with you as he sidled up to the bar. You gave him a polite smile, but nothing more, having gotten used to your fair share of passes being made at you. He ordered you a drink you didn’t ask for and shimmied closer. You tried to put some distance between the two of you, but he kept pursuing you. "What’s wrong, pretty baby? I can treat you right if you give me the chance."

He stunk of alcohol, and you didn’t trust him. You thought of taking yourself outside for a moment, claiming to need a breath of fresh air, but luckily for you, one had already come to you. Stepping right in between you and the nuisance of a man was Tommy. You hadn’t seen him since you walked off stage, but you were happy for the sight of him now. "You harassing a lady in my pub," he asked, a thinly veiled threat woven into the tone of his words.

"No, Mr. Shelby," the man replied confidently. "Just buying your chanteuse here a drink. It’s her that’s being frigid. She may have a pretty voice, but the bitch don’t know how to take it when a man pays her a compliment."

You thought Tommy was going to throw him out or give him a speech about respecting women, but you weren’t expecting him to pull back his arm and meet the man's face with his fist. The punch sounded like it cracked bone, and you felt your stomach lurch at the sound. You hadn’t realized just how strong of a man Tommy was until then.

Before the fight could escalate, you got a fair distance away from the action, not wanting to get yourself injured in the midst of everything. While your harasser was getting the worse end of the fight, he did manage to clock Tommy in the jaw once before Arthur stepped in and hauled the offender outside, essentially throwing him on his ass at the door. "And don’t you come back, eh," you heard Arthur shout to him and he stumbled off.

Your heart was still beating hard in your chest as the Garrison's door swung shut with that good for nothing on the other side of it. "You okay, Tom," Arthur asked, as he came back towards the bar. Tommy held his fist in his other hand, indicating he’d injured it, but of course, his pride wouldn’t let him admit it, even to his brother.

"I’m alright, Arthur. Can you bring me and the girl a whiskey?" Arthur nodded and placed the order with the bartender as Tommy made his way over to you.

"Some fight," you remarked, taking in the state of him. "You always jump to a woman's defense like that?"

"Maybe not as often as I should," Tommy replied, "but for you, always."

You scrunched your face up, trying to figure him out. "Thomas Shelby, do you fancy me?" Arthur showed up just then with Tommy's requested drinks, allowing him a moment to consider his answer. If Arthur had heard your question, he was wise enough not to insert himself into the conversation.

When he’d gone, Tommy took his gaze off his wounded hand long enough to meet your eyes and he felt compelled to be honest with you. "I suppose I do," he confessed. "Ever since you started here, I felt protective of you. Guess now I’m learning why that is." He paused for a moment, trying to read your expression. "I don’t expect anything," he quickly added.

"Well I think you deserve a bit of gratitude at least. While I don’t normally encourage violence, I appreciate you setting him straight for me. I hate to think where it might have gone had you not stepped in when you did."

At this Tommy smiled, only fleetingly as a wince of pain followed when he flexed his hand. "Are you sure you’re alright," you questioned.

"Fine. Bruised, most likely. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before. Aunt Polly will see to it."

"I could, if you’d be willing. I haven’t always made my living as a pub singer, you know?"

"Yeah? Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got."

"Lets get you elsewhere first. The Garrison, while one of the nicer establishments in the area, is no place to tend to wounds."

"I think our patrons might miss their favorite singer," Tommy reasoned.

"Pretty sure my employer will understand," you teased, getting up from the table. You held your hand out to him and he accepted it with his good hand.

"I hear he’s an understanding sort of man," Tommy quipped back.

"That he is," you replied.

Tommy Shelby: @tinktheartist, @riveranddoctorsong123, @beth-gallagher22, @locke-writes, @lora21, @thegirlwhoistrying, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders one shot #request #send requests #requests open

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fallatyourfeet · 2 years

Text

Every Single Second (Thomas Shelby x Reader) One-shot

Word count: 1388

Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, threats, violence against women. Both Tommy and reader are injured.

A/N: Full disclosure. I know what a whump fic is, but I have never written one before. Nor have I ever really sought them out to read. So I really hope this qualifies. Sorry anon, if it doesn't. I tried my best.

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

If you like this, please feel free to visit my blog and take a look around! You can find my masterlist in my bio.

You remembered every single second. Every fucking one. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. You were always told that the moments before and during traumatic events, were lost to the dark and forgotten regions of your mind. Locked away. At least, until your body had time to heal. To come back to you, slowly and sporadically in flashes of hazy images. But no. Every second of that night replayed with vivid horrifying clarity, every time you closed your eyes in the cold hard bed of the hospital. And you guessed from the way Tommy woke up screaming out your name, that he remembered every fucking second too.

It had been the perfect evening. Good food, good wine and the undivided attention of the man you loved. It had been a trying couple of months. Tommy had been distracted and absent, both physically, and when he was home, emotionally too. It was not an unusual thing, you had grown accustom; albeit reluctantly, to the ebbs and flows of Tommy’s behaviour. You understood it, knew the pressures and stress and dangers his ambitions created through every facet of his life. But you put up with it. Not only because you loved him, but because you knew he loved you. And you knew, with your help and patience, the distraction and emotional distance, would pass. He would always find his way back to you. And that night was the end of a very frustrating stretch of weeks.

Tommy had come home that afternoon with a smile. Slipping a pearl necklace from his jacket, he handed it to you, kissing you softly as he whispered against your ear. “I’ve made reservations at your favourite restaurant.” Reaching into his pocket, he grabbed his watch, and after a quick glance, he added, “That gives us just over an hour.” Looking back to you, his blue eyes spoke without need of words, telling you exactly how he wanted to spend the majority of that time. But just in case you weren’t listening, his fingertips moved to the buttons of your blouse, while his teeth nibbled at your ear; it was torture of the most blissful kind. And the rest of the evening unfolded in an equally glorious way, from the second he walked through the door, until the moment the car reached the lonely road leading home, the night had been perfection.

Tommy drove with his eyes trained to either one of two places, the road ahead, or you; struggling to keep his gaze from your features. You could see it... he was happy, your joy was his joy; and he didn’t want to look away. That’s why you were the one to notice it first. Heading towards the intersection just a few hundred yards from your driveway, you first heard the distant hum of an engine. Sitting up a little straighter, you searched the road around you, quickly catching Tommy’s attention. But the moonless sky made it impossible to see anything beyond the car's headlights... that was until you neared the intersection.

The light spilled just far enough to catch sight of a lorry barrelling towards the car... its own headlights switched off. Speeding towards Tommy. It was going to hit his door, and it was too late to stop it. With your body angled towards him, you felt every muscle stiffen, your back pushing against the glass window of the door behind you... and yet, you spoke with surprising calm, “Speed up Tommy, floor it. Now.” Seeing your alarm, Tommy didn’t hesitate, his foot hitting the accelerator hard. But it wasn’t quite enough. The lorry clipped the back, the impact sending the car into the air, rolling and crashing across the ground, before finally stopping on its roof.

Blood. So much blood. You didn’t even know if any of it was yours. But one look at Tommy ripped all the air from your struggling lungs, stealing any ability to scream. Thrown free of his seat, he was stuck halfway through the broken windscreen, his body lying bleeding and motionless across a bed of broken glass. And his head, his poor head, even in your shocked condition and terrible light, you could tell it was battered and already bruising. Anywhere but his poor head. It was already compromised, fragile; Father Hughes had seen to that. Panic ripped through you, stripping away your shock and the numbness it provided, every inch of you crying out in silent screams of pain. It felt like every bone was broken. Biting down, you tried to ignore the searing pain and dragged yourself towards him. With a gentle hand, you rubbed his shoulder, too scared to shake, worried you could cause more damage, “Tommy... Tommy. Please wake up.”

Incoherent mumbles slipped through his lips as he fought to open his eyes, blinking weakly in an effort to see though the blood running freely from a deep wound above his brow. They were rolling around in his head, unable to focus on you, but his mumbles were getting clearer, even though they were just a string of random words, “Be. Are you? It's not. Gun.”

“Shhh, Tommy, you’re concussed. Keep your eyes on me... Look at me Tommy.” With the sleeve of your dress, you wiped the blood from his eyes, as he still struggled to focus on you. Screaming, you called out into the darkness, “Help... Somebody help us, please.” Where was that fucking lorry driver? You could still hear the running engine somewhere off to the side, but you couldn’t see a thing, as you too, dealt with a stream of blood flowing from somewhere amongst your hair.

In answer to your plea, you heard footsteps crunching through the gravel of the road, followed by a voice. It was threatening and menacing, far from offering the assistance Tommy so desperately needed. “Help? You want me to help you and your bastard husband?” Crouching down, the man’s face was covered in shadows and besides his London accent, you could make out no other distinguishing features. “What happened here, lovey, was no accident.” Tommy was in a bad state, but still, the threat in the man’s voice did not evade him. Struggling to move, his panic was evident, as he feebly tried to push you away, to shield you from the man. But he was too groggy and far too injured. With weak blood-stained hands, he grabbed at his jacket, but his fingers wouldn’t co-operate, only managing to bring himself to the attention of the shadowed face.

That’s when you saw it, the glint of Tommy’s pistol in the halter under his jacket, the sight of it abruptly pushing a stupid thought into your head. It was silly, you knew that, but you couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Ignoring the pain, you threw yourself towards Tommy, hoping to reach the pistol before the man did. But he was too quick. In one single movement, he swiped it from Tommy’s halter and struck your temple with the hilt. The impact knocked you backwards, leaving you dazed, but somehow, conscious. You knew that because of the tormented sound that escaped Tommy’s mouth. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought the pistol struck him, his anguish and distress were unmistakable. Fighting to sit upright, Tommy was able to string a coherent sentence together, and though his voice was weak, it was also unhinged and savage, “Don’t you. Fucking. Touch her.”

That was the moment relief flooded your body. A fleeting moment of relief that did not last long. In the distance came a set of headlights, barrelling towards you from the driveway of Arrow House, ruining the lorry drivers plans. Leaning into Tommy’s ear, he spoke in quiet tones, but every word reached you clearly, “You’re a lucky man, Mr Shelby. The crash didn’t kill you. And if that car wasn’t coming right now, I’d be unloading a bullet into your head.” Then grabbing a fistful of Tommy’s shirt, he lifted his head into the air, and smashed it back against the ground, sending Tommy back into darkness and ripping a horrified scream from your lungs. But not before he whispered his threat, making sure he was loud enough for the both of you to hear, “Next time though, neither you, or your bitch will be so lucky.”

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby whump #thomas shelby whump #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby one shot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders whump

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

Text

His World ~ Tommy Shelby X Reader (Fluff)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: When Tommy wants her to join him in his world, she agrees, even if the thought made her skin crawl

I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. This hasn't been beta'd so I apologise for typos or mistakes

Warning: societal sexism, heavy flirting

Wordcount: 3727 words

The gravel crunched under her feet as she tried very hard not to run the short distance from the western exit of the house towards the stables.

They had already been grand, but Tommy had expanded them as soon as he had signed the contract to make this house theirs.

That had been more important to him than all the other renovations, or the reshaping of the garden or the furnishing. For all that, he had given her a blank check and the promise that he'd love whatever she chose anyway, sealed with a kiss to her cheek.

But the absolute regency did not extend to the matters regarding horses. Anything and everything to do with them went over his desk and his desk only, from the expansions on the stables, to the manufacturing of the saddles, to food and hay.

Any staff they hired had faced harsher tests and trials than those that might have been hired for the King's household, only the punishment for mistreatment would be far harsher on the grounds of Arrow House than Buckingham Palace.

Polly had told her once, about the first man Tommy had ever wanted to kill, back before he really knew what killing was. He had been barely more than a malnourished, small boy from the streets of Birmingham, who had somehow managed to wrestle the bullwhip from a man thrice his size after seeing him use it on a frightened horse. According to his aunt, Tommy hadn’t stopped even when hardly anything remained of the man’s shirt but crimson coloured rags.

At first, she hadn’t believed it, after all Thomas Shelby was not a cruel man, nor did he enjoy the sight of suffering, unlike many people she had the displeasure to meet.

But he was also a man who, when pushed to the threshold and faced with the abyss, was fully capable of crossing it without batting an eye.

The man who had owned the horse all those years ago was not the last who had learned that to their peril.

She found him outside of the stables, but she had nearly missed him in her hurry, as he stood amidst the tall and proud animals, almost blending into their group to the point of nonrecognition.

Sometimes, she thought that this was his intention.

The man she saw there, was different to the one he showed the world, who entered board meetings and business negotiations, no matter if they were held at Number 7 Watery Lane or at the polished mahogany tables of the London offices of Shelby Company Limited.

To all those who only knew him as the man from the paintings in the house, he would be entirely unrecognisable now, but also because they had never truly learned to look.

Tommy Shelby wore no suit and no jacket, no riding habit of his own.

His dark trousers had gotten stained and crumpled, and the sleeves of his simple, collarless shirt had been rolled up almost carelessly, with his clasps on dark suspenders slightly lopsided. The hours spent in the sun had made a thin sheet of sweat appear on his brow to which a few loose strands of his hair clung.

With any trace of the shrewd, sharp businessman forgotten, it made him look younger than his years.

(Y/N) watched, as he caressed one of the steed's fur, rubbing the side of her neck while whispering soothing words into her ear - words she would not have been able to understand even if she stood right beside them.

She had always liked horses. Their proud posture and noble stride had captured her imagination ever since she had been a child, whether it be from looking at the life size portraits of long dead warriors and kings, or when she herself had begun her riding lessons at the appropriate age of six.

She had liked the warmth and the softness of their fur, and later the feeling of freedom when she could gallop down a green hill, ever trying to outrun her instructor.

But she had only grown to love them when she learned to see them through his eyes.

Tommy preferred their company to that of most people, and sought them out whenever the world of men turned too loud for him.

There was some form of sanctuary they could provide his ever restless soul that he would never find anywhere else, not even her arms.

That had been a hard truth to accept, and if she loved him any less, she would have let any affection she had for the animals turn to hate.

But she couldn't hate them even if she tried, not when she saw how his eyes lit up and how the corners of his lips twitched into a small, almost boyish smile.

(Y/N) had fallen in love with the man he was, but that did not mean she did not relish these moments in which she could see the glimpses of the boy he had once been.

Here, with the horses, in the open air, far away from all the smoke and noise, she could see him, truly see him.

But even now, his carefree and sometimes even playful nature, did not mean he was any less diligent. He was patient, yes, more patient than she had ever seen him, but still precice and strict.

And so (Y/N) had soon learned not only how to rub down a horse, but how to clean its fur, how to refill their hay and even how to clean out their hooves. It wasn’t a task she was naturally suited to, nor one her parents would have allowed her to attempt, but it was one she took upon herself gladly if it meant she could spend more time watching him in their presence.

When he was in their company he was so much at peace, she could not only see it in his features, but feel the tranquillity and calm radiate from him.

It was not something one could often say of Thomas Shelby.

Stillness yes, but tranquillity was not a luxury he got to experience often, let alone share.

“Hello you.”, he greeted, his back still turned to her.

“And there I thought I was being sneaky.”, (Y/N) mused as she allowed herself to step closer, leaning against the only recently painted fence.

“Not quiet enough for her.”, he said, patting the steed’s side.

“How is she?”, she wanted to know, a slight frown forming on her brow. She was getting so large now, it was a marvel she could still stand upright.

“Restless.”, Tommy said, “it won’t be long now, before the foal comes.”

That filled her with an almost giddy excitement.

“Shall we put the veterinarian on alert?”, she asked. Tommy had found a man from Dorset he liked, who took thrice as much money as the usual rate. But he was good, and apparently he had treated the horses in France too, which made Tommy trust him above all others.

He only shook his head.

“When we get closer, I’ll call Curly up. He knows more.”

With a final whisper, he patted the horse on the side and turned to face her fully.

A sly smirk spread on his face as he saw her.

“So you decided to wear fancy dress then, hm?”, he asked, as he climbed through the fence, glancing up and down. “At least you left the circus hat inside.”

The circus hat was what he called the black tophat and net which had accompanied every single riding habit for at least two centuries. So much had changed in the war and after, and the fashion hadn’t been exempt, but still the riding habit stayed the same. Tight leather riding trousers under wide dark skirts and a matching jacket, a blouse, a black ribbon and a tophat.

“You said we were going riding.”, she reminded him as he took her hand, leading her back in the direction of the stables. As they walked, her dark green skirts brushed against his legs just like they did against her own.

She found Dancer already outside, lounging in the shade. But there was no other horse.

“Tommy, what’s this?”, she asked, glancing at him suspiciously.

“A horse.”, he only said.

“Well I can see that.”, she huffed, “but why only one?”

“Because you’ll be the only one riding today.”

There was something in his voice that told her she was missing something, but never mind what she was missing. The horse was missing something too.

“I’ll go fetch the saddle.”, she said, but his grip tightened slightly, not nearly enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her hand from slipping away from his grasp.

“No need.”

She sighed.

“Tommy, I know you are able to ride a horse without a saddle, but I’m not.”

He smiled softly, and there was that glint in his eyes again - that glimmer of mischief and that tell tale sign that he had planned something.

“Well today you’ll learn.”, he said.

Her eyes widened as she stared at him in utter disbelief.

“You want me…to ride a horse without a saddle?”

“Yes.”

She shook her head.

“Tommy, I can’t. It won’t work. I’ll just slip off.”

There would be no way she wouldn’t, not even if the horse moved as slowly as possible and a trot would send her flying.

“Not if you ride properly, you won’t.”, he mumbled.

Only then did she catch his meaning.

“No.”, she said, shaking her head. “I can’t…it’s not allowed.”

He snorted, almost rolling his eyes at her. She knew all too well that he saw no value in what society taught her to consider proper. He even hated the word when it came from her lips.

“I know you’re wearing trousers under there so just get rid of the skirt and we are good to go.”

She wanted to argue again, to explain to him that if they were to be seen it would be a scandal, that her parents would never allow it, that it just wasn’t right, but she bit her tongue and watched how he began to rub Dancer behind the ears.

When the horse gave him a playful nudge, he grinned in amusement.

This was his world, and he was asking her to be a part of it.

(Y/N) knew she would be a fool if she didn’t sacrifice a small part of the world she came from to appease him.

“I’ll need your help with the buttons.”, she finally dared to say.

They were small and many, and right at the back.

As always, Tommy was more than happy to oblige.

When she stepped out of the dark green fabric that had pooled at her feet, she couldn’t help but feel - naked.

She still wore trousers, but they were far tighter than any trousers those daring flappers and fashionistas in the cities wore, who preferred men’s clothing over women’s.

And her face burned.

“Whatever you want to say,”, she hissed under her breath, “don’t.”

“You might have liked what I wanted to say.”, he teased.

She glared at him.

“This is already daunting enough, so please don’t make it any more difficult.”, she admitted, as they approached Dancer.

“No need to be scared.”, he assured her. “People have been riding horses without a saddle for far longer than they have been riding them without.”

(Y/N) gave him a doubtful look.

“Are you sure about that?”

He only shrugged.

“At least they’ve been riding without one far longer than they’ve put women in those things from the carousels.”

The wave he gave was nothing short of demeaning and so was his almost childish tactic of not dignifying things he despised with their appropriate name.

Her riding habit was ‘fancy dress’.

Her tophat was the ‘circus hat’.

Her aunt with her archaic values and constant recommendations was only referred to as ‘old bat’, her father’s valet as ‘head clown’.

And so her side saddle was that ‘thing from the carousels’, because apparently if one rode side saddle, one wasn’t riding at all but merely sitting on the horse the same way one would do on the painted one’s at the fairs.

According to him it was unnatural, illogical and not really riding, but all that didn’t make it any less daunting, as she approached Dancer.

She wasn’t the tallest horse they had in their stables, but by no means short, and very capable of going at a rather swift and daring speed if she wanted.

Almost in preparation, her loins began to ache.

“Don’t worry.”, Tommy assured her, coming up right behind her.

“I’m right here, eh?”

“Well, then you might tell me how I am supposed to get up, because you’ve not only forgotten the saddle, but also the stepping stool.”

He grinned as he laced his hands together.

He can’t be serious, she thought, but he was. And so she had nothing left to do but place her knee - and her trust- in his hands.

With one smooth motion he hoisted her up the horse.

And then she sat, frozen in place with her hands braced on the back of the horse. Her legs were spread wide over the back of the horse, stretching the muscles in her thighs like they hadn't been before.

But she also felt the warmth of the horse against her legs, with nothing, no saddle, no skirt and no posture to separate her body from that of the animal.

"You good?", Tommy asked, walking around Dancer to see if she was sitting properly.

"Well, I don't think it will get better.", She confessed, as her heart thundered in her chest.

He attached a rope and began to lead the horse away from the stables and towards the green plains.

She had spent countless hours on the back of horses, but this might as well have been the first day she had ever seen one, that was how different it felt- how foreign.

When she sat side-saddle she could feel the horse's movements as well but now she could feel the muscles work.

Every tensing and relaxation, every single shift, it was almost as if they were no longer two separate bodies but one, single being.

Once they had left the gate behind them and were out on the green grass, Tommy began to step back, letting the rolled up rope slip through his fingers.

"Now you urge the horse not with the reins but with your thighs.", He said.

I know, she wanted to mumble, but that didn't make it any easier to do.

"A bit more. The horse has to be able to feel it. Don't be shy."

Her face burned as she tried not to think of how inappropriate all of this was.

"Good.", Tommy said, as Dancer began to move forward. "Off you go."

As long as I'm not going to a hospital next.

Even if Dancer was only leisurely trotting, she was jostled with every step and feeling ever more like a sack of potatoes. Inelegant, undignified and untalented.

"Put your right shoulder back.", Tommy advised.

No matter what she tried, she just couldn't keep her posture, and soon the instruction came once more.

"You're leaning again.", He warned her.

So (Y/N) moved her shoulder back, only for Dancer to dip slightly in her trot, making her gasp and lean over to keep her balance. But in her instinct, she overreached and for a frightening second she felt herself slip.

It was over in a heartbeat, but not fast enough for Tommy not to notice.

With a single spoken command, he got Dancer to slow, giving her the time to compose herself again.

"That's what I mean with leaning. Sit up straight.", He told her.

"I'm trying.", She confessed. "It's not nearly as easy as you make it look."

"Just try to move with the horse and not against it."

Well that fixes everything, she thought, but kept her complaints to herself as she urged the horse on, with her thighs and not the reins.

(Y/N) had barely circled him once more when he corrected her again.

"If you keep that up, you will be sore tomorrow. Move with the horse."

"I am moving with the horse.", She argued, making sure to keep her back perfect.

She circled him once more, then Tommy began to roll the rope up again, approaching both her and Dancer.

"I'm getting cramps just watching this.", He said.

(Y/N) bit the inside of her lip and glanced down.

She hadn't exactly had a great time today, not nearly as much as she would have had if he had let her saddle her horse the way she was used to, and she had tried.

But now, the cold, biting feeling spread in the pit of her stomach, spurred on by the fact that she had failed- worse, that she had disappointed him.

"Hold this?", He asked, shoving the rope into her hand.

"What are you doing?", She asked turning her head as he reached up, one hand in front of her, the other behind.

(Y/N) had needed help getting up, but Tommy Shelby managed to get on without much of a struggle.

"Don't mind me.", He said, his breath hot on the back of her neck as he reached for the rope. Not only was his chest right behind her back, his legs brushed against hers from behind.

"I'm just the passenger.", He assured her. "You tell Dancer where to go. Use your legs."

Her heart thundered in her chest, as she squeezed her thighs. Relief flooded her when the horse started to move.

"Good.", He praised.

"It's always easier to learn something than to unlearn it."

"Huh?", She asked, but by then his hand had already slipped in under her arm, a palm reaching up and pressing against her right shoulder gently.

"You're trying to keep the balance the way you did with both legs on one side so you overreach.", He explained calmly.

(Y/N) inhaled sharply and shuddered as his other hand ran down the length of her back, two knuckles on either side of her spine.

When she tried to evade his touch, the hand on her shoulder kept her in place.

"Don't tickle me.", She insisted with a breathless giggle.

"Just making sure you're back's straight.", He assured her, unable to hide his amusement.

When his lips pressed a soft kiss to the back of her neck, it made her stomach flutter the same way it had done when he had kissed her there for the very first time.

"Straight as an arrow. Like standing to attention. Keep it that way.", He instructed, before allowing both of his hands to drop.

Now, in the absence of the rope, she had to guide Dancer through the curves on her own, applying more pressure with one leg than the other.

"Speed up a little.", Tommy asked, before dropping his head into the crook of her neck, on the right side- the one she had been leaning over too far.

While her shoulders were and stayed in line now, a second problem soon became apparent, because with every step, she felt herself bounce to the point where it began to cause an ache.

"You need to move your hips with the horse. Don't try and force them to be still."

"Sorry.", She mumbled.

No bouncing. No stillness.

Still, she didn't know what to do with her hips.

With a hum, his hands found her hips, intent on guiding.

"Don't tease me.", She insisted, as she felt the pressure he applied, and the rhythm he applied it in.

"I'm not teasing.", He argued.

"Yes you are!"

Her face was burning again.

"No. Feel the difference?"

To her shame, she had to admit that she did. It didn't hurt nearly as much, although it broke all the rules of what was right and proper and what she should be doing or how she should be moving anywhere, let alone in public.

Even when he removed his hands, she continued the movement, rocking her hips in sync with the horse.

It wasn't made easier by the fact that he was right behind her, brushing against her, legs and hips and backs and all.

She knew she should be focussing on her hips and her shoulder and her thighs, but she couldn't focus on anything but him.

It didn't help that he didn't exactly keep his hands to himself.

Not that he was actively doing something- his hand was just resting on her thigh, as she moved the way he had instructed her to move.

With him behind her, she felt safe enough to try to go faster, and even leave the green plains to ride along the treeline. He let her, leaning into her and whispering advice and encouragements in her ear.

"Back to the stables now.", He finally said once they reached the river side.

She turned the horse around and guided Dancer back.

They rode the distance in silence, apart from whispered breaths and the clicking of hooves.

Once back there, he jumped off and took the reins from her.

"Good girl.", He praised.

"Me or the horse?", (Y/N) wanted to know.

"I'm talking English, aren't I?"

"Oh,", she mumbled as she felt her cheeks heat up for the upteenth time today.

Tommy only grinned as his hands clasped her waist, lifting her off of the horse.

She leaned into him as her legs began to quake.

"Careful now.", he warned, his arms curling around her tighter.

She leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed.

"The things you make me do, Thomas Shelby.", She mumbled into the fabric of his shirt.

He smelled of green grass, of horse and hay.

"Well, you always enjoy them in the end.", He reminded her.

"Am I enjoying this? I can't tell.", She mused, only lifting her head be able to see his eyes, and the slight smirk he wore on his lips.

"Can't you?", He asked.

"No.", She said. "And I have the haunting suspicion that I will be very, very sore tomorrow."

Humming slightly, Tommy's hand found her chin, his thumb just barely brushing along her bottom lip.

"Let's see if I can do something about that, eh?"

The End

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed. As always, I loved to hear from you all!

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@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @alex-in-the-wilderness @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik

#valentineswritings #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #thomas shelby one shot #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby fic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby fluff #His World

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runesandmoons · 2 years

Text

Photograph

Pairing: 80s!Tommy Shelby x 80s!Rockster!Reader

Summary: A concert he wasn’t interested in resulted in a photograph that consumed his mind.

Warnings: 18+, Tommy is a bit OOC here because he’s a SIMP (like a really big simp), alcohol use, smoking, smut, soft dom!reader and slightly sub!Tommy, pet names, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

A/N: This is for K’s @runnning-outof-time Halfway to 2K celebration! I’m so glad I was able to write something for you as a way to celebrate your amazing self! I had fun exploring a different side of Tommy in a different era. I hope I did this song justice and that you’ll like it! Congrats again, love! You are so deserving of this! 🤗

A/N 2: I ran into a bit of writers block for the end of this fic, so if it’s rushed or not as good as the rest, please just overlook it 😫 Also, the reader’s hair is described. It’s not a specific color or style, but it is described as big, wild, 80s rock hair. I tried to be inclusive with reader, but I understand the description of her hair may not be as inclusive as normal. I wanted to portray the 80s rock scene, so big hair was a necessity. I am sorry if this takes anyone out of the story!

Word Count: 4605

Gotta photograph, picture of

Passion killer, you’re too much

You’re the only one I wanna touch

Tommy was only there because Arthur and John dragged him along. Something about keeping up their image and staying hip. He could care less. As long as he was left alone to drink, he didn’t care what happened around him or what his brothers did.

They were in a large bar with enough room for a stage and a few hundred people. Arthur and John were in the middle of the crowd preparing for the band to come on stage. The lights were already dim, signaling the show would start soon. Tommy took a long drag from his cigarette as he sat at the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of him. There were only two other people at the bar with him, everyone else was in front of the stage.

He was thankful for the solitude, having no energy to deal with the over the top crowd. As he sipped his whiskey, he heard a chord from a guitar, the cue that the opening number began their performance, the crowd roaring in response. He cringed.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like music, or rock music for that matter; he liked his own music, and he didn’t have time to discover a new band that he knew he wouldn’t care about. He only liked going out on his time and for his purposes, loathing when he was forced out by someone else, especially by John and Arthur.

He watched them as they banged their heads to the beat of the music, dorky grins on their faces. He rolled his eyes as he took another swig from his whiskey. Sure, some might say he was cynical, but he had a reason to be, right? He was the head of the Peaky Blinders, trying to keep his gang and his family afloat with a million things in his mind at once. And here he was at a loud rock concert with hundreds of people screaming in his ears, guitars piercing through his mind, and his brothers being a little too carefree. He couldn’t focus on anything but his whiskey, so he took another sip.

By the time the opening number was finishing up, Tommy had two more glasses of whiskey and three cigarettes. His head was feeling fuzzy, but he was used to the feeling. He preferred it over the headache he thought he would get from the music. John and Arthur made their way over to him when the opening number went offstage, the crew striking the stage and preparing it for the main act.

“What’d ya think, Tom?” Arthur asked, his arm around John’s shoulders. Tommy took another swig before shrugging.

“They were alright.” Truthfully, he didn’t even know the name of the band, or the name of the next one.

“Oi, Arthur! He’s had too many to pay attention!” Both men laughed at John’s joke, but Tommy sighed.

“Shut up, John.” He turned his attention to the bar, ready to signal the barmaid for another glass.

“This next band is all the rage, Tom. I think you should come out in the crowd with us.” Arthur was sincere, trying to get his brother on the same page. Tommy kept his back to them.

“I can see the stage just fine ‘ere. M’alright.” He finished his whiskey and raised his arm to order another one, his fourth. “Go on, boys. Enjoy yourselves, just like you always do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, eh?” John’s tone increased in volume as he stepped toward Tommy, but Arthur calmed him down, holding him back.

“It’s nothing, John Boy.” He lowered his voice for only John to hear. “You know how he is.”

A woman approached them, but her gaze was on Tommy. She was wearing tight clothing as she sauntered up to him. The look in her eye made her intentions obvious. He turned his head to her when her hand trailed down his arm, looking uninterested. She didn’t seem to take the hint.

“What’s a handsome man like you doing sitting at a bar all by himself?” She flashed him big eyes with a pout. Tommy opened his mouth, but John replied before he could, stepping closer to him.

“He’s not interested in having any fun. Too caught up in moping.” He slid his arm around the woman’s waist, whisking her away. “But I know someone you can have fun with.” As they walked away, she smiled and put her hand on his chest. Arthur shook his head and left Tommy alone in his solitude once more.

By the time he finished his fourth whiskey, the main band came onstage. He didn’t pay them much attention as they started their first song. Lighting up another cigarette, he placed his focus on smoking. The nicotine meshed well with the alcohol, washing out the volume of the bar quite nicely. His eyes closed as he took drag after drag from the cigarette, the smoke pouring from his lips as he slowly exhaled.

A woman’s voice made his eyes shoot open, only she wasn’t near him. Her voice came from the speakers. He finally turned his attention to the stage, swiveling on the barstool to face his body toward it. A woman was singing into the mic, swaying her hips as she performed a choreographed routine to the song. Tommy felt his jaw slack as his lips parted.

She was wearing tight, black leather pants, a deep-cut, red, baggy shirt that still hugged her in all the right places, and high heeled, lace strapped, black boots. Her hair was curled and teased to look blown out, almost resembling a lion’s mane with how large it was. As her lips came together to sing a note, he noticed she had red lipstick on. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

He watched her intently as song after song was played. She sang alongside the main vocalist, backing up his notes, and making them even better. She danced to the music, more intensely when she wasn’t singing, but when she was, she used her hips and arms in a way that made Tommy shift in his seat. She went all over the stage, having the time of her life and feeding off the energy of the crowd. You would think she was the main attraction with how they interacted with her and how she reacted under all that attention.

Tommy didn’t expect to see a woman in the band, much less her. He was enamored, watching her every move. Mesmerized by her voice, entranced by her movement, curious as to how she ended up in the band, even envious of the men on stage with her. He found that he was aching as he watched her hips move. His cigarette and whiskey were long forgotten, the cigarette sitting unlit and half smoked in the ashtray and his whiskey barely touched. All he could focus on was her, everything else a blur around him.

The mention of the band’s final song snapped him out of his trance. He looked around him in a panic. He wanted to burn her presence in his memory, but he didn’t have anything to do it with. Searching the walls of the bar, his eyes landed on a Polaroid camera hanging by its strap on a nail. He flagged the barmaid over and asked to borrow it. When she gave it to him, he turned to face the stage again.

He waited for her to come back to his side of the stage on the left. She flipped her hair as she sang into the mic with the vocalist. Tommy could see tiny beads of sweat on her forehead and collarbones, causing him to bite his lip. Standing up on the bars of the barstool, he brought the camera to his eye. He waited until she was further back from the mic to take the picture. As soon as she was, he snapped it, a bright flash going off as the Polaroid began coming out of the camera. He sat back down as he waited for it to develop.

He continued to watch her as the band finished the song and began exiting the stage. She blew the audience a kiss, and it made his stomach flutter. He didn’t understand why he was so intrigued by this woman. He had never felt like this, always the one in control, of everything. He was flustered, yet he felt this undeniable aching sensation. He wanted to know her favorite songs, what made her tick, what made her laugh; he wanted to know her intimately. But he didn’t even know her name, or the name of her band for that matter. As she walked off stage, all he knew was that he had to see her again.

****

I see your face every time I dream

So wild and free, so far from me

You’re all I want, my fantasy

Look what you’ve done

All I’ve got is a photograph

But it’s not enough

She smiled at him as she crawled on the bed toward him. Tommy was leaning against his headboard, legs straight in front of him, as he watched her. His bottom lip was between his teeth as she inched closer to him. Her hand made its way to cup his cheek as she brought her lips to his. Eyes closed, Tommy let her take control. Her tongue swiped his bottom lip, making him part his lips for a deeper kiss. He allowed her to explore him as she deepened the kiss, swinging her leg over his to straddle him.

He moaned against her as she sat on top of his hardened length, grinding softly against him. Her hands slid down his chest as she moved her hips against him, her head tilting back as moans left her lips. When he kept his arms in place, she looked down at him with a grin.

“It’s okay, baby. You can touch me.” She grabbed his hands and brought them to her waist. That was all he needed, exploring her body as he moved his hands across her, squeezing her hips, groping her breasts, pulling her beautiful hair. She quickly removed her bra, freeing her breasts for him, which he promptly focused his attention to. He kissed all over her chest as his hands gripped her ass, leaving soft bite marks, sucking and swirling his tongue against her nipples, and moaning against her at her reaction. She was pressing down on his length, grinding her core against him at a pace that made his head spin.

Soon enough she removed her thin, lacy underwear and removed his boxers so they were nude in front of each other. All Tommy could do was groan at the sight of her; she was his fantasy woman, not understanding how he was lucky enough to have her, to touch her.

She lifted him off the bed and pushed him to his knees, positioning herself in front of him so her legs were spread. His mouth parted as he stared at her glistening folds, hands automatically going up her inner thighs. She was leaning on her elbows as she watched him, a smirk etching her lips up.

“I know you want to taste me, so go on, sweet boy.”

Tommy didn’t hesitate, pushing his head in between her legs as he began lapping at her clit. She let her head fall back as the most heavenly moans he had ever heard escaped her. He groaned against her, the vibrations making her legs shake. He was throbbing by this point, desperate for the slightest touch, but he relished in her taste and getting to please her. He was usually so impatient in the bedroom, but with her, he would spend hours doing what she asked him to. Only for her.

Tommy worked harder than he ever has to bring her pleasure. He wanted to make her cum with just his mouth. He swirled his tongue in circles, in figure 8s, he moved up and down slowly, and then fast, he sharpened his tongue to a point, and he flattened it to swipe over every bit of her. He sucked her clit with barely any pressure and then some force behind it. He fucked her with just his tongue, pushing inside her and lapping at all she had to give him. He shook his head from side to side as he moved faster, and then he went slow again, using just the movement of his tongue. His arms were under her thighs so that his hands could rest on her stomach, his fingers trailing up to twist her nipples every now and then.

The sounds in his bedroom were unholy. Her arousal mixed with his spit sounded so wet as he pleased her. The moans she made were so loud they were echoing off the walls, causing Tommy to groan in response. He was moving his hips against nothing, so desperate to feel anything. When her fingers landed on his shoulder, he gazed up in her eyes, the sight a vision; him between her thighs, face absolutely soaked in her juices and his own spit, looking up at her through his long, black lashes.

“Be patient, pretty boy. I’ll please you soon enough.” He just moaned in response.

Her fingers went to his hair, twirling them to grip him tightly as she began moving her hips against his mouth. She was close to her release, spurring him on. She called him names he had never heard before: baby boy, her good boy, puppy, angel. She complimented him, calling him pretty, sweet, handsome, soft, gentle, words usually unassociated with him.

With a few more quick flicks of his tongue against her clit, she was cumming against him. She kept his head between her thighs as her hips moved sporadically. Her moans were long and loud as she unraveled. Tommy stared at her through his lashes, watching her throw her head back. He didn’t dare stop moving until she told him to.

When she came down, she lifted her head to meet his eyes, smiling. “You did so good, puppy.” With a gentle pull to his hair, she lifted his mouth off of her, his lips still parted as his chin was dripping with her cum and his drool. A total look of adoration was in his eyes as he reveled in her every word. He came to his feet with her guidance and leant down to kiss her when she pulled him toward her. She moaned as she kissed him, feeling just how wet his mouth was. Pulling away, she brought him back to the bed, seating him in the same position he was in before.

“Do you want to know what it feels like to be inside me, angel?” She was on top of him again, but she kept her core from his length, refusing him what he most wanted.

He nodded frantically. “Please. Yes, please.” She smiled down at him. He was so desperate to feel her.

“Don’t wipe your mouth for me. I want to taste myself as I fuck you, okay love?” She swiped a finger across his bottom lip before bringing it to her mouth, closing her eyes as she sucked. Tommy whimpered before mumbling a faint, “Yes ma’am.”

He continued to whimper as her hand wrapped around his aching length, stroking a few times before aligning him with her entrance. She slowly sank down, looking into his eyes as she did.

“I didn’t know you’d be so big, puppy.” They both moaned as she moved her hips against him. Her nails dug into his chest as she rose up and sank back down at a slow pace, taking in every inch. Tommy gripped his sheets as he hissed.

“Fuck. Feels s’good.” His eyes landed on her breasts as they began bouncing as she picked up her pace. “Can I touch you?”

“Of course you can, pretty boy.” He sat up to wrap his arms around her waist, burying his face in her chest. He began kissing her breasts again and focusing on her nipples. The extra stimulation made her increase her pace again, fully bouncing on his cock now.

He felt euphoric. She was so tight against him, almost like she was squeezing him. His hips stuttered as he wanted more from her. He left open mouth kisses on her breasts as his grip on her waist tightened. He didn’t know how much more he could take, feeling his release nearing. All the attention he spent on her and then finally getting to be inside her made him unable to last longer than normal. His whines against her chest must have signaled that.

“Are you about to cum, puppy?” Her hands were in his hair as she held him close to her. She increased her tempo, now slamming down onto his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and wet squelching alongside their moans filled the room. His “yes” was muffled against her chest. “Just hold on a few more minutes, sweet boy. I’m gonna cum with you.”

He nodded, resolving to wait for her, no matter how much he was throbbing, hurting, to cum. His fingers pressed into her back as he pushed their bodies as close as they could fit together. Her breasts were bouncing in his face as she rode him. She just kept moving faster and faster on top of him, chasing her own high.

Tommy had never had a woman fuck him so good. She was in total control. He just watched her in awe as she used him for her own pleasure - so wild and free on top of him. The world was hers and he would do his best to give it to her.

She brought her lips to his, kissing him sloppily and moaning as she tasted herself on him. Her hair fell against his face, completely enveloping him in her essence. She pulled away just enough to talk, her lips still close enough to his to brush against them.

“Fuck, baby, that’s it.” Her voice was like silk as she spoke. He tightened his grip on her as his cock twitched. “I’m gonna -”

“Mr. Shelby!”

Tommy’s eyes shot open to find she wasn’t on top of him. He looked across his bed. Empty. He wiped his hand across his face with a groan.

“Yes, Frances?”

“Breakfast is ready for you, sir!” She spoke on the other side of his door.

“I’ll be down soon.”

He closed his eyes, lulling his fantasy back, but it was lost - just another dream of the woman on stage. He had been having them a lot lately, each one becoming more and more intense. He lifted his sheets up to see his cock was hard. He would have to take care of that.

He turned his head to look at the Polaroid he took, stuck in a picture frame with a picture of his horse. The image he captured was perfect. Her eyes were closed, but her mouth was open, parted as she had just finished a note. One hand was on the mic, the other arm in the air as she sat into her right hip, framing her body perfectly. Her hair looked like it was in motion, flying around her face and shoulders. She looked like a vision, a woman made just for him.

His dreams were beginning to feel too real, making him long for this woman even more. Being able to see her on the photo was nice, but it wasn’t enough anymore. He had to see her again, had to speak to her, had to make his fantasies a reality. He had to touch her, get to know her, become hers in every way.

As he sat up in bed, he resolved to do just that. He would find out when her band played again and go to her show. He didn’t care what he had to do, but he was going to see her again and speak to her.

****

I’d be your lover, if you were there

Such a woman, you got style

You make every man feel like a child

You got some kinda hold on me

You’re all wrapped up in mystery

I gotta have you

You’ve gone straight to my head

He walked through the door of the same bar he was in a week before. He came alone, not wanting his brothers to interfere. He went straight to the bar since he had no interest in the opening act. Ordering a whiskey to calm his nerves, he looked around the area. The opening act was about to perform, and he was already wanting it to end, just so he could see her.

He soon grew impatient, pacing a small area next to the bar as he sipped his whiskey. As he tuned the music out, he began to think about her again. He was still trying to understand how he felt toward her. This was all a mystery as to how she consumed his every thought so quickly. He wasn’t used to being nervous around someone, especially someone he didn’t know. He didn’t allow himself to be drawn to someone or develop an attachment as he had no time for that with his line of work. It would just get too complicated, and he didn’t want to deal with the fall back when he couldn’t satisfy his lover like she expected.

He didn’t have time for any of the feelings he had, but here he was, developing an attachment toward a woman who didn’t even know his name. He wanted to be the one she came home to, to brag about her as much as she bragged about him, to care for her in every way possible, to know men desired her but he was the only one to please her. He wanted her to consume his life just as much as she consumed his fantasies. No one else would suffice now. She ruined him without a single touch.

Tommy almost didn’t notice that the opening act was leaving the stage, too lost in thought. His stomach did little flips as he realized he was minutes from seeing her again. He downed the rest of his whiskey and went back to the bar to order one more, hoping that drinking it would pass the time between sets. As he took swig after swig, time passed excruciatingly slow, but finally, her band came onstage.

His eyes were on her immediately as she smiled and began interacting with the crowd. She was wearing a similar uniform as the first night he saw her: tight, black pants, a white, semi baggy, low cut shirt, and black, high heeled, lace up boots. She had fingerless, red fishnet gloves on, and he could see her red, lacy bra through her top. Her hair was just as wild as he remembered, flying over her shoulders and across her face as she moved with the music. He swallowed thickly, trying to prevent himself from drooling at the sight of her.

As her band played, Tommy found himself smiling and nodding his head to the beat. He enjoyed watching her move across the stage and sing into her mic. He wondered what it would be like to be backstage watching her, catching winks and little smiles meant only for him. Or if she knew where he would be in the crowd, motioning and singing to him.

When he started recognizing the songs toward the end of the show, he moved back to the bar. Eyeing the Polaroid camera, he asked the bartender if he could borrow it again. On the off chance that he wouldn’t get to speak to her, he wanted another picture to add to his other one.

After the bartender loaned him the camera, he moved through the crowd to get near the stage. He wanted a closer shot of her. As he was only a small distance from her, he marveled at how much more beautiful she was. Her features were defined clearly, and she glowed under the stage lights.

He brought the camera to his eye and snapped an image of her. She had the mic stand in her left hand, leaning it away from her, with her mic in her right hand. She was smiling her bright, beautiful smile that made his heart soar. After the flash went off, he got the Polaroid that came out of the camera and tucked it into his jacket.

Deciding to stay where he was for the remainder of the concert, he watched her actions closely. She made him feel young and happy, childlike. He wanted the concert to last forever, but he had to remember why he came. As the final song came to end, he observed how she beamed at the audience when she walked off stage.

Tommy made quick work returning the camera to the bartender, and when the crowd began to disperse, he hung around, figuring maybe she would exit through the main bar area. There were only a few people left in the bar a half hour after the concert ended, with no sign of the band. He wanted to stay longer, but he was beginning to believe they had already left. Resolving to try again another day, he left the bar. As soon as he stepped outside, a voice stopped him.

“I saw you take a picture of me.”

He nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to the left to find her looking at him, arms crossed as she leaned against the building. She was smirking at him, almost like she knew the power she had over him.

Tommy chuckled, caught off guard. “Uh, yeah.” He offered her a sheepish grin. “How did you know it was me?”

“Well, when there’s only one flash in the audience, it’s pretty obvious. Even under all those lights.” She grinned. “I saw it last weekend too.” She pushed off the building, coming to stand in front of him. He swallowed, his heart beating faster. “I wondered if the mystery flash would happen again tonight, so I wore something special to entice it.” She brushed a finger down his jacket collar. “I guess it worked.”

He swallowed again, nodding as another nervous chuckle escaped his lips. “I guess it did.”

“Did you stay after to talk to me, sweet boy?” She looked up into his eyes, tilting her head a bit.

Tommy nodded. “Yeah. I-“ He stuttered, not expecting her to call him one of the names from his dream. “I wanted to ask if you wanted to get a drink with me.”

She chuckled. “Don’t you want to know my name first, sweetheart?”

Clearing his throat, he introduced himself. “I’m Thomas Shelby, but you can call me Tommy.” He offered her his hand.

“Y/N L/N.” She grabbed his hand, bringing it to her lips, kissing his knuckles lightly as she looked into his eyes. Tommy felt his cheeks heat up at the action. “About that drink…” She paused, smiling as she held his hand still. “I’ve got something else in mind.” She positioned herself so that her arm was through his, now side by side with him. “It should help release this tension.” As she said that she brushed her fingers across his chest, looking into his eyes with feigned innocence. “What do you say we go back to your place, pretty boy?”

All Tommy could do was nod.

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