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ay0nha · 9 months

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An Ode to Ruination | T.S.

SUMMARY: Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callus to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.

PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.5K

WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking, drinking, semi-preoccupations with thoughts of death/suicide, mutual pining, meanish tommy because his feelings are hurt, canon-typical things, protective!tommy, rushed ending, etc.

A/N: Yeah, yeah, I’m back on my bullshit. This is inspired by @zodiyack‘s request/post (here). HAD to get it out of my system, I mean look how pretty he is. This is a mix of Old writing I had to dust off the cob webs for mixed with new stuff, so be kind. Enjoy.

“You’re leaving.”

Tommy’s tone was sterile. It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset.

The cracks behind his exterior were so deeply concealed you hadn’t thought anything could slip between. Yet, standing before him, your decision was the ice-pick that’s pressure had shattered him.

“Ada told you?” You hummed with formality; his presence clearly a response to the question. “London will treat me well.”

Tommy tracked your movements. You envied how he filled the space better than you. Perhaps it was the vulnerability in his presence. Regardless, you felt like a guest in your own home. You felt caught, exposed.

The air was thick, causing Tommy’s deep breaths hard to hide behind a crackling record that you had on a continual loop, never able to stand too much silence. Your bags were organized beside the door for the morning, causing your heart to echo against the empty walls.

There was an odd sense of pride you felt with his presence. It confirmed the distant admiration that Tommy held for years. That the shared affection wasn’t something fabricated but complex. You respected his drive, but your desires fell elsewhere. He carved space for you despite your protests, but you could never be the one to fill it—you could never be his.

“A better life, eh?” Tommy mocked you, cigarette rolling over his lips with habit. “Fucks sake.” The confidence in his demeanor faltered. But he regained it quickly with a bitter laugh, “...I’ve given you everything, and here you are asking for more.”

With an instinct to comfort him, you wanted to reach for him. It spoke of your ability to read him and how exhausting it had become to interpret. He would miss you.

“Tommy—” You began. The calmness in your voice was deceiving. You could see it in his face, how expectant he was for you to tell him you’d stay. “—I’m not safe with you.” You paused, letting your admission sink in just as harshly as his words had, “I’m going to London.”

—

The bliss was idyllic.

Your wrist balanced on the windowsill as you lazily tapped the ash of your cigarette. The cool air caressed your arm and gave you goosebumps that reminded you that you were still alive. Human. Your senses were perked. The city outside kept you attentive as your head rested back. The day was long, but hearing the taxis carrying bubbling people made it worth it. You imagined how some were on their way to find warmth in their home while others were dressed for an endless night of laughter.

The living room was empty and quiet. You could no longer hear Ada’s shuffling feet above you, ushering both her and Karl to sleep. It was odd that you found such freedom with them. Protection of sorts that you could rely on as a necessary stepping stone. It caused a headache to form at the back of your head, reminding you of your lack of sleep.

Privilege came with the name associated that made your stomach churn. It was simple to push Tommy into a subconscious level. The task became daunting; an ache emerged from so deep within that it took months to realize from the start he was responsible. It was as though you could feel how his eyes were still on you.

It became a habit to remind yourself of your newfound safety. The distance created life: happiness and tranquility. You traded bloody nights for bedtime stories, sewing razor-filled caps for gin-filled gatherings, and Tommy’s scarcity of communication for peaceful nights like tonight.

A disruption was overdue. You answered the phone after the third ring.

“Ada?” The voice was unmistakable, even if it was whiskey drenched. It took him a beat to realize you were on the other end. “... ’m callin’ for Ada.”

Chewing on your lip, you debated silence and pretended like the call had never begun. But that incessant ache begged to be relieved.

“I can wake her.” Your voice was soft, promising something you were unwilling to do. It was nicety that filled the quietness you were met with.

“I—uh—” Tommy sighed deeply. The words were lost, jumbled behind an always racing mind. You could picture him well; his crisp shirt no longer having life as it was rolled up by anxiety, his tie no longer present, but still suffocating him, and everything around him reflecting how he moved with an intemperate haze. “—I’m drowning—”

“Tommy…” You refused to burst, but his name on your tongue tattered between warning and heartbreak. When he drank, he opened up to you, a foolish cycle. “Let me get Ada…”

The dark chuckle on the other end forced you to press yourself closer to the phone. “Sometimes, I wish I were dead so you'd think of me.”

A frown perked your lips. You were made out to be more heartless than the most heartless man you knew. It was a naive guilt trip that you almost slipped on. “Be fair to me, Tommy.”

There was a crackle on the other end, a cigarette lit purely by regret. The drag was long, trying to pull something thoughtful from a blurred mind. The reports he received from those he paid off weren’t enough. You were thriving with his absence, seen with a mix of people who, even acquaintances, valued you better. It elicited resentful envy. However, out of arms reach, you worried Tommy endlessly. The London associates sought blood, no matter who provided it. The paranoia was ruining him, and no answer could reassure him.

“You a communist yet?” Tommy cleared his throat with a vulnerability that was only reserved for this night. Maybe, you thought, it was an effort on his part.

“Almost…” The teasing comforted a dodged homesickness. “Think my card got lost in the post.”

“Shame.” He tutted with a gentle wit. There was a tender sadness he carried with him. It was almost as volatile as his anger. It was easy to blame it on the war, but it had latched onto him long before, never planning to let go.

You imagined how his exhaustion mapped along his body. His body probably mirrored your own; head back, limbs weakly sprawled, heavy-lidded eyes imagining the other beside each other, and a mutual worry that bounced between you.

“I am happy, Tommy…” Your promise was delayed, hardly believable. “Ada and I do miss everyone.”

I miss you.

Tommy hummed, “...have a funny way of showin’ that.”

“You haven’t seen our smoke signals?”

The laugh you were met with was small, light, and barely there, but it rushed through your limbs and heated your chest. You had a moment to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. Tommy was addicting. Chronic. His aura was intimidating. He was callous to those close to him. And yet, there was that desire to sink below that murky water—drown in him entirely when his want was so clear in his breath.

—

You knew Tommy would be there. For Ada—you reminded yourself. Yet, seeing him so closely caused your heart to lurch, your blood leaving your extremities with such fascination that you became light-headed.

“Drink.” Ada all but scolded you, crystal pushed into your hand. The instruction was welcomed, but it wasn’t enough to settle you. “Otherwise, you’ll clam up if Tommy bothers to find us.”

Tommy worked the crowd well. It was a feigned charm that he played into only for advantage. Although he claimed to be here for family, business always loomed. Ada hadn’t cared either way, the glitz far too intriguing to question his sudden presence in the city.

“Give him time…” Ada spoke openly to the air, her night’s indulgence tracing her words. “...always time with that one—wastes it, and yet, expects you to be there when he hollers. Does your head in, it does…”

The champagne bubbled down your throat. The night was meant to be celebratory, but you’d be lying if you said you knew why. It was a part of your distinction from the Shelby family that you questioned if ignorance truly brought you bliss.

“Surprised he came himself. Thomas Shelby in the flesh,” Ada continued with ease, mocking her brother. “Surprised he even lifted a pinky. Typically one of his goons—” She looked to you, her revelation cutting her off. “You do understand what you do to him, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to.” Your words were sharp. Your eyes filtered the crowd for the gloved waiter to replace your glass. “There’s nothing that I—I’ve put all that behind me.”

“That?” She pressed with practiced bits of patience. Ada’s smile grew comically. The shy glancing took years to turn into full sentences and Ada knew firsthand how to read her brother, and the way he lingered spoke volumes. He was past smitten.

It was all or nothing; you were it.

You were grateful how her attention shifted to her own relationship. You never tired of hearing how Freddie treated her and loved her since they were children. There was somberness in her eyes, but devotion carried in her words. You saw how she carried him with her; certain mannerisms mirrored not only in her but Karl. Love withstood.

There was a point in your life you believed you’d find something similar. You hadn’t faulted your growing mind; it was natural to romanticism your future at such a young age. Those around you promised there was something fruitful to look forward to. However, life proved difficult; men remained boys, and the only person that you regarded stalked toward you as if you were nothing more than a stranger.

“Ada.” Tommy approached his sister as if she were alone. He’d visited her in the city multiple times but never once shared the air with you. “Enjoying yourself tonight, eh?”

“Mothers can still have fun.” She teased him with a peck on the cheek. Even in her state, she ridiculed her brother’s behavior. With a shoulder pushed against his, Ada encouraged Tommy to acknowledge you. “Have you no manners?”

To others, his expression may have appeared vacant. However, Tommy wrestled with himself, unsure how to maneuver in uncharted territory. Stalling, his eyes danced the crowd as he languidly out his matches and carton. It denoted how natural his icy illusion became, and now he seemed able to practice it on you. Once he landed on you, you realized why he struggled to meet your eyes. It was his only form of self-defense.

“London suits you.” Tommy nodded, his greeting muffled through the newly lit cigarette. The small rush it gave him was enough to stay vigilant.

“It has its moments.” Your chest perked from the attention and chill, but Tommy’s eyes never faltered from your own. You were daring him to take your body in. It was the sole reason you chose a dress that cut low both front and back.

Tommy was never a blind man.

Nor was his sister. Ada excused herself, claiming whatever ‘this’ was, she wanted no part. You are no fun, she said. However, you weren’t sure who it was directed to. You held back from following her, but your shoulders remained open; you wouldn’t fold into yourself.

“I didn’t know communists could have fun…” Tommy mumbled to himself, eyes going to the crowd once more. Ada’s self-imposed isolation rippled through the family, only fracturing the stress of everyone’s well-being.

A scoff bubbled in your throat, “And what do you know about pleasure?”

“Pleasure?” Tommy became focused and pointed with his words. “Pleasure doesn’t exist.”

Eyebrows cinching with frustration, you stepped closer to be heard, “Don’t pretend like your pleasures don’t have names.”

That drunken call all those nights ago was a mistake. It showed you insight into a dream. In that dream, Tommy was free of what haunted him, light and present. Faithful. There his voice wrapped you in warmth with fulfilled promises. You never were as skilled at hiding your emotions. Your heart was broken on your sleeve.

“I’m going to—

There wasn’t a need for a protective air as those around Tommy knew never to challenge him. However, far and few between, there were those men self-entitled with such idiocy; they couldn’t recognize they were prey.

“Thomas Shelby. Birmingham man in London.” A hand clapped down on his shoulder, breaking the forming bubble around you. “Thought that was you! This must be the missus…”

“Not quite.” Your tone was bare, your hand extending with trained expertise. You could handle pleasantries. But the man was bold, leaving a damp kiss on your knuckles as if marking you.

Tommy was subtle, moving his body to act as a buffer. Fingertips brushy feather-bare against your lower back. You thought it would end there but held back a flinch when Tommy’s warm palm flattened where your back curved.

“Ah, understood!” The man replied with a boisterous cackle. It reflected years of unfiltered nicotine and a wet and sick penchant for bourbon. “I’ll have one of you warm my bed once all of this shit is over.”

You pinned your breath to the roof of your mouth. Your loss for words wasn’t due to the ill-mannered man. It was from the brush of Tommy’s thumb against your skin. It was a comfort and an apology for how he would have to agree with the man to keep him at bay.

It was all a part of the plan you were slowly catching onto.

“A good lay is a good lay, isn’t it, Mr. Shelby?” The man prompted again, a gauge to know if the future alliance would be worth it.

“Exactly right.”

You could storm off, cause a scene. Your anger steeped deeper than that. It lived in your bones, morphing into something vindictive. You stayed the course and played your part willingly. The morals you lectured Tommy on didn’t matter anymore when all along he had the upper hand.

To the man, you were a plaything, someone who the conversation held no standing. The information would be forgotten, implied confidentiality, as you’d move on to your next client. However, the further you orchestrated the conversation to continue, the more you learned.

The night was a business move, another party dosed in secrets and danger. You took in the man’s features, noting how he was aging, greys just starting to filter through his scalp. Your stomach turned, knowing there would be a bullet between his eyes by the end of the evening. The interaction was a courtesy.

Once alone again, you didn’t hesitate to move from Tommy’s shield. You felt dirtied.

“I can’t believe you.” You spat. “You’re incapable of—

“Enough.” Tommy’s words were low. He pinned you with a look alone, keeping you steady. “You want to run from me, but you can’t.” You battled with him until you lost. His face hardened like you were another associate. “It was him or you.”

#q #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x f!reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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red-write-hand · 6 months

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"As long as I still love you, my eyes will never grow dark to you.”

pairing -> thomas shelby x f!oc

trope -> hurt/comfort, argument, tommy being kinda a shitty husband

warning -> argument, tommy being kinda a shitty husband, fluffy ending (i promise)

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He sat back in his plush chair. Today wasn't a good day in general. Between his brothers pissing him off and a couple business deals going south, it seemed like he couldn’t catch a break. He tilted his head back while his eyelids fluttered close. All he needed was time. All he needed was peace and quiet. He knew he was forgetting something but he couldn’t tell what he was forgetting. Like something was supposed to happen but nothing happened. He shook his head and started to pour another glass of whiskey. Another storm was brewing on the horizon. He hadn’t even realized it until it was too late. The great big door swung closed. The house had grown darker than it usually was, the dark oak everywhere kept it ambient but now, with the threat of something coming, it seemed even darker. Someone hung up their coat. Then it dawned on Tommy who had just arrived. His wife. His wife who had tear stained cheeks and wet hair. She didn’t look at him as she kicked off her shoes. His thoughts started to quicken as he tried to figure out what he had forgotten. Turns out, she was going to answer that for him.

“For a man who projects the idea that he is on top of everything, you seem to forget what you say is most important to you.” She silently walked up to their shared room, quietly shutting the door behind her. He could hear her faint tears through the door. What had he forgotten? He sat back down in his office. He took a long drag of his cigarette. What was happening today? What was so special about today? What exactly had he forgotten? Upstairs, she slumped against the door. Her cheeks felt hot tears slide down them as she cried for a husband that took her for granted. She knew this was not true all the time, not the nights where he kissed the length of her body and made up for all the long nights and forgotten promises, not the days that he took off work and spent the day in bed with her, not the times where he noticed that she was uncomfortable and he slipped his hand in hers to reassure her that he was there, not the times where he let her cry in his lap until she fell asleep. Then again, this was a rather important thing to forget. Today was special. Today had been the happiest day of her life a year ago. She didn’t know, she couldn't fathom how he could forget a day like today. So she cried. She cried with her back against the door of the bedroom that they used to sleep in every night, the bedroom where they had planned on trying for children, the bedroom where they both forgot about the world and just focused on each other. She could hear footsteps outside the door. She reached a shaky hand up and locked it from the inside. She would rather cry herself to sleep against the cold, hard floor than face her husband who had forgotten her once again. She heard Frances, Thomas’ maid, from the other side of the door.

“Mrs. Shelby, Mrs. Thorne wanted to give you these–” Tony cracked the door open slightly to look at the small parcel Ada had left her. It had a small note attached to it. She thanked Frances and took the package inside, then relocked the door. She carefully pulled the brown paper off for it to reveal a small box of chocolates. The note had fallen to the floor, which Tony now started to notice. The note read, ‘Just in case you needed it. Remember that he does love you, even though he does get wrapped up in himself. Happy Anniversary to my favorite sister in law. Yours truly, Ada Thorne.’ Tony smiled and tucked the note under the box of chocolate. She heard a different set of footsteps come up to the other side of the locked door. It was much heavier and sounded much more familiar. She took a deep breath. She heard something hit the floor. A few curse words in a Birmingham accent floated in through the crack in the floor. She didn’t know what exactly she should say. Yes, she was angry, so she should chew him out? Then again, she was sad, should she guilt trip him? Make him feel all the feelings she was feeling? Another emotion surfaced, fear. The fear of abandonment. The fear that one day, he would leave her. The fear that she was slowly getting taken for granted by the man she loved most in the world. Again, she started to cry, then she felt something soft hit the hand she had been leaning on. It was a napkin from the dining room of the Arrow House. She smiled through her building sadness. This was how they had communicated the day of their wedding. They had passed notes on several stacks of napkins since it was customary for the groom to not see his bride. They had both thought this rule was silly and a little outdated but you don’t argue with Aunt Polly. The notes on their wedding day had been words full of adoration and love. Now the napkin that had been riddled with tear stains had two simple words on it.

‘I’m Sorry.’ She blinked a few times but this just made the napkin more and more wet. The handwriting was his. This was the handwriting that had moved millions of dollars. This was the handwriting that had written letters full to the brim of teasing words and innuendos while he was in London and she was in Ireland. This was the handwriting of the man she loved more than anything in this world. This was the handwriting of her husband. This was the handwriting of the man who had forgotten his own wedding anniversary. She gulped down another wave of tears and mustered up enough resolve to finally get words out.

“But are you though?” She could hear the breath being released from the other side of the door. She could almost hear the wheels in his head turning, trying to solve this problem quickly, but there is no quick solution to this. She was not the kind of girl who would say that a couple of kisses and a night of sweet love making would be a sufficient apology. She needed something much more substantial. She could hear him trying to think of the right words, the right phrasing, the best way of regaining the love of his wife back.

“You have all the right in the world to be angry at me. You have all the right in the world to walk out on me. That is, as of right now, what I deserve. I have taken you for granted and forgotten many things I shouldn’t have. Yell at me if you have to. I will leave you alone if you need space to cry. My only request is that we figure this out together. This day, last year, we were married and you told me something that has stuck with me every single day–” He paused, trying to remember what she had said exactly to make sure he got his point across perfectly.

“As long as I have love in my heart for you, my eyes will stay a pale gray. No matter what happens. No matter what I have to go through. As long as I still love you, my eyes will never grow dark to you.” He finished her quote with a long silence.

“When you walked in from the rain, your eyes were darker than I’ve ever seen them. I wish there was a quick and easy way of fixing this so that I can have my Tony back to the way she was before I started to fuck up this entire thing…but there is no easy way. There never has been. You do things methodically, I do things sporadically, sometimes with a plan, sometimes spontaneously. Our love exists in the balance between erratic and consistent. If there is any way I can reclaim your love, I will go to any lengths for it. I know you might not believe me but your love, Anthony Bentini Shelby, is the thing nearest and dearest to my heart. Your love that is fleeting than trying to cup water in your hands, your love that makes a man fall to his knees at the sight of it, your love that is only shown to the most worthy of souls. You have changed the course of my life with your love. You have changed my soul with your love. If there is any way, if there is even a possibility of your forgiveness, I will wait weeks, months, years, sitting against this door, until you come to your verdict…and if you so choose to walk out, I will not stop you, just know that you have changed every single member of the Shelby family.” She didn’t know how to respond. She didn’t know if she should say anything after that. Thomas hadn’t spoken that much in weeks. He had let out a few sentences at most to her but nothing this long. Nothing this…important. She pulled a pen out of her jacket pocket and wrote carefully on the napkin before sending it back under the door. She simply wrote, ‘I forgive you.’ She cracked the door again to let her hand through to the other side. He laced his fingers between hers. She could hear his breath evening out. She could feel her own slowing down and she could feel her tears drying. She silently giggled when she felt him drawing small designs with his thumb into the back of her hand. She could hear his voice, now cracked and choked up.

“Happy Anniversary, Mrs. Shelby.” She could feel him plant a small, gentle kiss to the back of her hand. He was never gentle about anything. The trademark of his love was that he tried to be more gentle with her.

“Happy Anniversary, Mr. Shelby.”

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wxckedwxrld · 8 months

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PB: Thomas Shelby

Imagines

* - smut ^ - angst • - fluff

arranged

arranged pt. 2

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queers-gambit · 6 months

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If Speaking is Silver, Then Listening is Gold

a Turkish proverb

prompt: ( requested ) you require a bit of reprieve after the week you had, and Tommy's a gentleman.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x hard of hearing female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 4.4k+

note: you hit me in the chest with this request. as someone who is hard of hearing (HoH) and progressively losing what they have left, this got personal.

warnings: author projects, mild angst, hurt and comfort, specified frustration, working with customers SUCK, mild violence, Tommy's a little OC 'cause he doesn't know what to do with emotion!

"Excuse me! God, the service here is terrible! Aren't you listening to me, barmaid!?" The woman with polished finger nails slammed her manicured hand to the bartop aggressively, glaring at you as if you had backhanded her mother.

The sudden slap made you jump slightly, turning your head to acknowledge her before deflecting, "In a moment, ma'am, I'm trying to listen to this man's order."

"I've been trying to get your attention for 10 minutes now!" She argued, the noise of the bar dialed up as the night droned on and the patrons drank more.

"And I'm busy assisting other customers, I'll get to you when it's your turn," you reminded her, blinking at the man in front of you. "I'm so sorry, sir, I, uh, what were you saying?"

He sighed, "You don't remember? Or didn't hear me?"

"I couldn't hear you over the woman yelling at me," you snipped, perking your brows. "Would you like to order or should I move onto another customer?"

He scoffed, "Just get me a fucking bourbon."

"One fucking bourbon comin' at'cha," you rolled your eyes as you turned from the people to grab the bottles of liquor lined up behind you. You poured the man his drink, set it in front of him, and pocketed the bill he slapped in front of you - not offering change as you instantly looked to another customer. He grumbled with displeasure, but you were asking the next person, "What can I get you?"

"Uh, no, I'm next, I've been waiting long enough," the woman with polished fingernails insisted, literally pushing the customer out of her way.

You sighed, "Know what? All right, fine, what can I get you, ma'am?"

At that moment, the doors swung open and a new wave of drunkards stumbled in; the bar roaring to greet the newcomers as the woman ordered her posh drink that had no business being ordered in The Garrison.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" You asked, staring at her mouth in the hopes of reading her lips. She repeated her order, but her tacky lipstick made her lips stick - making it hard to read. "What? I'm sorry, ma'am, it's loud, you're gonna have to speak up."

"Are you fucking with me right now!?" She screeched, making your eyes widen. "You're the fucking deaf - you can't hear a simple order!?"

"I only asked you to repeat yourself," You defended.

"You asked me three times!" She raged.

"So tell me a fourth and shut the fuck up!"

"Hey, hey, hey," Harry stepped in, hand to your shoulder when the woman looked ready to launch over the bar, "I got this. I'll man the bar, you go on - there's some tables that need bussing."

You sighed and stepped back, nodding, "Sure, Harry."

You hated when he did this. Instead of defending you and your inability to hear - something you have no control over - he would always just push you aside and send you to do other chores. It wouldn't cost anything to tell the customers to calm down, it was loud in the pub and you had a hard time hearing as is - but nope! The customer was always right, or whatever bullshit he would remind you.

You were constantly accosted at work for your difficulty hearing clearly. It wasn't that you couldn't hear at all, it was just difficult! Sometimes, you could hear bits of their sentence and just inference whatever words you missed, but that wasn't an exact science. You mostly depended on reading people's lips, always hating asking anyone to repeat themselves; but at work, it wasn't always possible. The people you interacted with seemingly took personal offense that you had a hard time hearing, and each of them made their displeasure known. Again, a great time for Harry to defend you, but the older man didn't like rocking the boat.

You didn't necessarily blame him, knowing the Peaky Blinders kept a close eye on the pub and would probably reprimand (cut) Harry for discipling customers instead of firing you. So, you kept quiet about your displeasure over your treatment because you needed this job - you never wanted to give reason or thought that you were difficult. Maybe that was why Harry would send you off to do other chores, he didn't want you to lose your cool and this job. Though, some of these people deserved a good tongue lashing.

Picking up a spare pail, you went around to a few tables and cleared them of empty glasses before using a rag from your bucket to wipe them down for the next set of people.

Apparently, in that moment, someone decided to move past you, and to their credit, they did say, "Excuse me, luv, behind yah," but you didn't hear him. So, when you straightened up from cleaning the table, you took a natural step back and bumped into a body; gasping when something wet splashed over your neck, shoulders, and down your back and chest. "Oh, fuckin' hell, lass! Watch where yer fuckin' goin'!" The man raged, his empty glass shattered on the floor.

You blinked in shock.

"What? Didn't fuckin' hear me when I told yah I was there!?" The man continued to reprimand you. "Gotta fuckin' listen in a pub like this, lass, you'll cause worse fuckin' accidents!"

"I'm so sorry," you offered meekly, shaking the ale off your arms and glancing at your front to see it trickled in alcohol. You needed to take a deep, long breath before turning to head for the bar.

"What happened?" Harry asked when you arrived, looking mild concerned.

"Another spill," you spoke through a clenched jaw.

"Oi!" The man who dropped his drink all over you approached the bar, barking at Harry. "It's not our fault you hired some deaf bitch! That can't fuckin' hear 'round her! She didn't move from my way, I lost me pint 'cause of her stupidity!"

Stupid...? Did this drunk asshole just call you stupid because HE bumped into YOU and spilled HIS OWN drink? Maybe the money you made at the bar wasn't worth this...

Harry had no issue giving the drunkard another pint of ale as you tried in vain to dry off, but your dress, hair, and skin was completely plastered in sticky alcohol. You felt your eyes burn with stress, wanting to burst into tears and sob your frustrations out, but you didn't have the strength to break down right now. That's how tired and upset you were - you didn't even have the energy to cry.

You went about your evening, bussing tables and avoiding whatever customers you could; keeping your head on a swivel to avoid any other accidents. You felt a little better, but the stress still lingered around the bar; feeling as if the customers were glaring at you no matter what you did. When a natural lull came, Harry let you back behind the bar with the promise of staying near in case you needed him, but you were ready to drop.

Your final straw was about an hour after the usual Peaky Blinders and Shelby brothers had come in for the nightly round(s) of whiskey. You smiled at Arthur when he approached the bar, all too happy to greet you loudly - the lad never having an issue with speaking up when you couldn't hear. Arthur was always happy to accommodate you, having a soft spot for you since his brother, Tommy, had made his interest in you known that past year.

Speaking of, Tommy Shelby, notorious gangster of Small Heath and the head huncho of the Peaky Blinders, entered after his brothers and made an instant approach. "Harry," he greeted when he stepped around the bar.

"Mr. Shelby," Harry nodded.

"Love," he acknowledged you, pecking your cheek sweetly. "All right?"

"Hmm?"

"Doin' all right?" He asked clearly, being similar to his brother and not minding speaking louder, slower, clearer, whatever you needed to hear him better. In fact, Tommy wasn't know for being patient, but with you, he'd repeat himself as many times as it took - but only for you.

"Oh, yeah," you sniffled, trying to hide your frustrations.

"Why's your dress wet?" He worried, petting a sticky lock of your hair back, his concern mounting.

You shrugged, "Bit of an accident, 's not a big deal."

"Someone run into you, again?"

You nodded, "It's fine, though. He got a new pint and calmed down."

Tommy shook his head, gritting, "Who?"

"Tommy."

"Tell me who, love."

"No, Tommy, it's fine," you insisted, petting your hand down his chest in a show of affection; seeing another customer approach the bar. "I'm sorry, I'm working, love, can we talk later?"

He nodded, pecked your temple, grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey and moved for the snug - where his brothers and Aunt Polly waited for him. You got back to work, and barely noticed the time ticking by... Until a new customer approached you with a sneer already marring his face.

"What can I get for you, sir?" You asked kindly, needing to raise your voice over the usual drunken yelling. So, you preemptively warned him, "Sorry, 's bit noisy tonight, you'll have to speak up."

The man ordered his drink clearly, but another few men in loosened slacks and disheveled button-ups stalked up to the bar; crowding around the other two men who stumbled over in obnoxious laughter. You felt your panic spike, already overwhelmed by them all trying to talk over one another.

You were bombarded with drink orders from them all, eyes flickering between them because you didn't know who to listen to first. You tried to get the drinks together at the same time, but in truth, it was overwhelming because the men changed their orders, but got mad at YOU when you didn't quite hear them clearly.

Their drunken words added to the bar's noise level sprinkled with you being hard-of-hearing just resulted in a cluster fuck. "This isn't what I fucking ordered!" The original man complained, glaring at you with distain. "It's really not that hard, girl, my God. If you can't get our drinks right, how you gonna make any man a decent wife? Gonna fuck up his dinners, too?"

"Jesus - I'm sorry, there's just a lot going on. Why don't you remind me your drink and I'll get it now," you offered as kindly as you could.

"I doubt you'll be able to get it right," he sneered, but you missed half his sentence.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Are you fuckin' kiddin' me!? Just fuckin' listen - it's not hard!" He snarled, literally chucking his glass just past your ear so it shattered into the liquor bottles behind you. "You can't even get a fucking drink right! Fuck you doin' workin' here, then!?"

This caused a huge commotion, obviously.

The Shelby's don't play games, you see, and the moment the glass shattered, they were moving out of the snug to investigate. When they realized someone had offered you disrespect, it was a shit show as the drunkards clashed with the men with razors stitched in their caps. Still in shock from the show of violence, you felt something in your heart snap you into motion.

So, you silently untied your apron, grabbed your coat and home keys, then literally walked out the backdoor - while the men all scuffled. The moment you stepped outside, you let your emotional dam give out - sobbing into the stinging cold air as you moved up the street.

You weren't sure what emotion you felt - be it anger, disappointment, shame, fear... Crippling insecurity. Once at the Irish pub, The Black Lion, you settled at the nearly empty bar and ordered your own drink, something you rarely did anymore. Something about working with alcohol all day made you less inclined to drink, but tonight was different than previous nights.

"All right, lass?" The bartender asked, pouring the whiskey in front of you. "Look a bit put out, huh?"

"Just a long week," you answered. He hummed, nodding and asking something. You felt tears in your eyes when you asked, "C-Could you repeat that?"

Louder, he repeated, "Anything you wanna talk about?"

"Oh, no, thank you," you waved off. "Just... Customers being unruly."

He laughed, "Oh, don't I know it. What happened?"

You shrugged, "Nothing important."

"C'mon, lass, if it's made you come inta a place like this, searching for a drink, it's probably important enough."

You sighed, "Honestly, I think I appreciate the silence."

He smirked, "I can respect that. Here," he poured you a new glass, "this one's on the house. I deal with unruly customers, too, so, I know you'll need this second one."

You chuckled and grinned broadly when he went to walk away, did a double take, then left the whiskey bottle to your side with a smirk. He moved off to sit at a different table with some other older men, leaving you alone for the first time in what felt like a long time. It felt ironic for a moment that you sought solitude and silence, but you just wanted time to digest all that happened tonight and move on.

Why couldn't people understand that despite you being a public servant, you were still a human being? A human with human emotions, human disability, who makes human mistakes. Yet according to those entitled pricks that think YOU work for THEM, you were a second class citizen who was underserving of empathy. How dare you ask them to repeat themselves! How dare you misunderstand their order - and quickly replace it! How dare you have a disability past your control that affects your day-to-day life!

There was a heavy, looming feeling of being inadequate.

Being alive was hard enough as it is, more so when a bodily function most others take for granted malfunctioned within you. It made life harder; you had to work harder than everyone else just to operate on their same level. However, if you dare show exhaustion, frustration, any degree of weakness, you were quick to be labeled as "lazy" or "entitled" or your favorite, "dramatic!"

Those people can hear pins drop, they couldn't ever fathom what this felt like. It wasn't that you couldn't hear, you could. It just wasn't on the level other's could heard at, and for whatever reason, it seemed to frustrate everyone else more than you. You were the one dealing with the predicament, and yet, everyone else was seemingly the most inconvenienced! They thought it mortally offensive to be served by someone "like you", thinking your disability was unacceptable in their proximity.

Fucking assholes.

If only they knew the way your stomach knotted itself every time you asked someone to repeat what they said. Every time you said, "Huh?" or "What was that? What did you say?"

You were embarrassed because it made you feel as if you couldn't even be a human "correctly", and it's not like you chose for this to happen! It's not like anyone chooses to make the obligation called life ten times harder by putting you at a functional disadvantage. You felt like "damaged goods" because you felt constantly out of the loop; missing a lot of what's said if you're not paying explicit attention.

However, years ago, you had perfected the ability to read lips. Yet this was difficult when most people you couldn't hear were your customers, majority of who are slurring their words. You worked in The Garrison, meaning that on any given night, there was loud discussions that added to your frustration - but the tips were too good to quit. So you endured. You felt pathetic and borderline like a failure if you quit any job; feeling as if your disability had won by emotionally crippling you. So, while it didn't make a lot of sense to work in a noisy place when you're already hard-of-hearing, you remained at your place of employment simply out of spite.

It was difficult reminding yourself it wasn't your fault, that you were still doing a great job - no matter how many customers catch attitudes, get snippy, or throw full-on adult tantrums. You despised needing to be the "bigger person", but figured nobody else would be willing to accommodate you, so, if you wanted a semblance of peace, you had to be the one to create it.

You reached for the bottle of whiskey after downing your second glass. With a harsh sniffle, you glanced around the pub and realized how many people had arrived to fill in the place. You felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, acutely aware that you were so deep in your emotional tarpit that you missed the noise rising.

So much for a quiet night.

You poured a new glass, praying to whatever God would listen that you're granted deliverance from this empty, helpless feeling that was pitting your stomach and chest.

After hearing the glass shatter, Tommy and his brothers were rocketing to their feet to investigate. They saw a man, red in the face, yelling hatefully at you behind the bar - liquor dripping off the shattered shelves from the man's bout of violence. There was no thinking for any of them. Tommy recognized you were in a predicament; striding forward first, and the chaos began.

It'd been a good bit since the lads had a good fist fight. No razors, no guns, no advantages - just bare fists and bar furniture.

It cleared the place out, and when the drunkard was hauled off by his companions, Tommy was wiping the blood from his knuckles. Harry frowned at the sight of blood splattered on the floor, shaking his head before calling your name - knowing you had some secret to getting blood out before it stained. However, there was no response. The Shelby boys all looked around expectantly, waiting for you to reappear, but it was evident by the way Harry searched for you that you weren't in the building.

Tommy placed a cigarette to his lips, just lighting it when Harry returned from the back room, informing, "Her belongin's are gone, she must've left early."

This made Tommy whip around sharply to use his own eyes and scan the room. "Nobody saw where she went? How was nobody watchin' her!?" Tommy asked demanded. There were several shakes of different heads, Tommy's anxiety flaring in his chest. He quickly rushed to grab his coat and flat cap, tugging them on in haste, hearing Arthur question where he was going. "Gotta find her," he explained through his panting-panic. "City's dangerous enough for people that can hear properly. God knows what can happen when she's alone at this time of night."

"We'll help," John offered, nudging Arthur, Finn, and their cousin, Michael Gray.

"I'll find her faster," Tommy answered, already out the door.

Michael shared a look around the room, wondering, "He acts like this all the time or just with that one pretty barmaid?"

Arthur smirked broadly, "That one pretty barmaid is Tommy's girl. Don't get caught lookin'."

"He's like this with just her," John chuckled, "always has been, always taking care of her the way she cares for him."

"What did Tommy mean? She can't hear?" Michael questioned innocently.

"Nah, girl's got some hearin', just not a whole lotta it," John explained as if common knowledge. "Never thought I'd see Tommy so patient, so fuckin' doting. He doesn't mind repeating himself if she asks, in fact, he does what he can to talk to her how she needs."

"What's that mean?"

"Like," John paused, sighing through his nose, "he'll face her directly, speak slower to let her read his lips. He speaks up, he's clearer, he wants her to feel like she's not a burden if she can't hear like us can so he does it all organically."

Michael smiled softly, vaguely impressed by Tommy's show of humanity. Speaking of, everyone's favorite gangster was prowling through Small Heath; stopping in each and every open business, searching for the familiar sight of you, and moving on when he was unsuccessful. You weren't at the Shelby home, nor your apartment, church, or anywhere along the Canal - places you frequent when overwhelmed.

Tommy was beginning to get cold, but he wouldn't say that. His determination would keep him warm, and even as the snow began to fall once more, Tommy hiked through the wind. Luck seemed to be on his side because when he entered the third pub, one he doesn't usually step foot in outside of evident emergencies, there you were; sat at the bar looking miserable.

"Thank God," Tommy breathed in relief, straightening his jacket and swiping his cap from his head. He approached your side and reached a hand out to the bartop in front of you, minimally startling you by announcing his presence without words. "Hey, love," he greeted you.

"What're you doing, Tommy? Blinders don't come 'round in here."

"We do when one of our own goes missing."

Your eyes rolled, "I'm not missing, I just needed a break."

"I know," he nodded, "but I'm here to make sure you get home safe."

"I don't need an escort."

"I don't think you do, but it's dangerous at night. You know I care about you and that includes your well-being."

"Oh, don't tell me, you're trying to play the gentleman card?" You scoffed, taking another swallow from your glass. "C'mon, sit down, I don't like drinking alone," you commented, "makes me sad, leaves me alone with my thoughts."

"We can drink at home, love."

"I don't want to go home yet."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'll have to explain why I got fired."

"You didn't."

"Huh!?" You yelped.

"You didn't lose your job," he assured softly.

"No?"

"No, not fired."

"Oh," you mulled over your thoughts, "that's good, then."

Tommy sighed and pulled his coat off to take the empty barstool beside you. "All right," he decided, going through the motions to stick a cigarette between his lips and light it. Smoke wafted from his mouth as he asked, "What happened tonight?"

"You already know, I'm sure."

"I want your truth."

"Doesn't matter," you refused, downing the last of the whiskey in your glass. You went to leave a few bills for your tab, but Tommy stopped you and covered it himself. Your eyes rolled and hand snatched the nearly-empty bottle of whiskey before heading for the exit.

Tommy followed not far behind.

"Love, c'mon, wait up," he grit, catching up to you and tossing his coat over your form, "you're gonna catch ill."

"I'm fine," your eyes rolled. Truthfully, the consumed whiskey in your system acted as an internal heating mechanism; warming your blood, wrapping you in a fuzzy grip.

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

"I just - I'm frustrated, okay?"

"Sure, all right," he agreed, "but why?"

"You don't get it, Tommy," you felt emotional, rounding on him with tears in your eyes. "You don't know what it's like, you can hear just fine, you can still see, you don't know what it's like to progressively lose one of your senses! The way people get angry for something I cannot dictate - it's like they're the one being vastly inconvenienced!"

Tommy nodded, just listening.

"And they crucify me for it!" You sniffled, feeling defeated. "Like I'm some pariah that will infect them with my loss of hearing. They treat me as if - as if I've asked for this, as if I'm doing it on purpose!"

"What would help?"

"Honestly? I don't know anymore, Tommy, but this town is seriously lacking in their ability to empathize. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do - I get so angry now. It happens more and more, people getting angry or frustrated at me 'cause I need them to repeat themselves. What am I supposed to do, huh?"

He smirked slightly, but the sight angered you.

"Oh, fuck off, Tommy!" You turned from him, moving back up the street. "I don't need to laugh at me like the rest of them - "

"I'm not!" Tommy insisted, reaching for your wrist to halt you, whip you around, face him again. Both his hands extended to hold the area above your elbow, speaking clearly, "Listen to me. I was going t'wait, but I think now's a good time."

"Good time for what, Tommy?" You growled, now just wanting to go to bed and hide from your emotions; hide from people; hide from reality.

"I have a new job for you, in the company," he smirked. "We're still getting things structured, but why don't you step away from the bar and come work for me now? Help us build what's left, and then transition into your company job?"

You paused, just staring at him in mild shock.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Why would I joke?"

"You're... Offering me, what? Some job as your receptionist?"

"No, I was thinkin' something a little more paramount."

"Like what?"

"Like Chief of Operations?"

"COO?" You laughed, "For what company, Tommy?"

"Come home with me, we'll talk all about it," he bargained, "but if you accept, you've gotta quit The Garrison, love. We'll need your head in the game, no other distractions."

You felt something in your heart crack, asking, "What if you lot can't stand working with me, too?"

"Because of your hearing?"

"Or, you know, lack there of."

"Love," he smirked, "there's nothing you can do - intentionally or unintentionally - that would make any of us distance ourselves. If we get frustrated, it's not because you can't hear - it's never your disability, love."

"So, if you get frustrated, it's just, what? My personality?"

"More than likely," He grinned, arm snug around your waist again to walk down the snowy lane together. He laughed when your hand rose to pinch his side; squeezing his rib tightly, causing him to flinch and grunt lightly. "Hey, hey, easy with that," he chuckled, seeing your happy smile. "You all right, love? I know tonight was a lot, but... You feelin' any better?"

"I think so," you sighed. "The whiskey helps," you joked, raising the bottle to your lips.

"Mhm," he mused, taking the bottle after you.

"But present company helps more," you complimented softly. "You know, I'm sorry for today..."

"You're sorry that you couldn't hear a bunch of drunks in a packed-out pub?"

"Maybe?"

Tommy smirked, "Don't apologize, sweetheart. It's not your fault; like you say, it's not something you can control. I'm the one who's sorry you had to endure all of that... The lads got that guy pretty good."

"Good."

"And now you've a new job, yes?"

"After I hear about it," your eyes rolled in humor, taking the bottle back. "What's this big idea for a company anyway? What's it even called?"

"The Shelby Company Limited, and we're gonna change the whole of England, love."

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

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springtyme · 5 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 ♡

In a world where trust is earned and betrayal met with swift and ruthless consequences, you'll do anything to protect your family, even if that means you'll have to do the unthinkable, marrying the criminal kingpin of Birmingham, Thomas Shelby.

Tommy Shelby x reader || Series playlist || Main masterlist

Chapter 1 Family Business coming soon

Chapter 2 Long Live The King

Chapter 3 Peonies and Razorblades

More chapters to come

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tommyshelbyswh0re · 1 year

Text

maybe i’m just not enough part 2- Tommy Shelby

warnings- abit of angst.

summary- it been a year since thomas broke your heart and he shows up at your door.

part 1

It had been a year since tommy left you and kicked you out. you had moved to manchester and you became a business woman. you were proud of yourself. if someone had told you 14 months ago that you would be a single, independent woman running your own successful business selling machine parts, you would have laughed in their face. up until a few years ago you knew next to nothing about machine parts but you suppose you had tommy to thank for learning. that was the only thing you would consider thanking him for.

moving to manchester was the best thing you could have done. you had made numerous friends, met multiple business partners and enjoyed your fair share of men. in fact, you had one of your men over who was just about to leave. key word is ‘was’ because just as he was putting his shirt on, someone knocked on your door.

“can you get that for me? i’m still very naked” you laughed.

“on it” he said whilst buttoning his shirt and walking downstairs.

he opened the door and you heard a very familiar voice coming from the other side. you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

“is there a y/n y/l/n living here?” none other than thomas fucking shelby asked.

“what the fuck? what the fuck?” you whispered trying to tie your silk robe. you looked in the mirror and realised that the post-sex look was very obvious.

oh fuck it. he’s the one who fucked someone whilst we were together, not me. i can sleep with who i want. you thought.

you slowly made your way downstairs until you made it to the front door.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you bluntly asked him.

“y/n can we talk?” he asked.

“no”

“please. all you have to do is listen” he asked.

“im just gonna head out” your man of the hour said to you kissing you on the cheek and heading upstairs to get his things.

“please leave” you asked tommy calmly.

“can you just listen? it will take two minutes” he near enough begged. as he finished his sentence, your man ran down the stairs and squeezed past tommy to leave.

“what, grace fucked off and now you want to talk to me?” you scoffed.

“can you just let me in?”he deadplanned.

“no”

“okay well can you at least hear me out and then i’ll leave i promise”

“tommy i wouldn’t trust your promises even if we did get married” you laughed in his face.

“listen. i’m genuinely sorry for sleeping with another woman whilst you were at home planning our wedding. i thought i loved her. as soon as it became an official relationship with her i realised the version of her i wanted was a completely made up fucking person in my head. i missed you. waking up without you there, coming home to you singing in the kitchen whilst baking something which was going to end up burnt. not having you keeping me company by simply just sitting in my office so i wouldn’t go insane by reading words on a page for 10 hours straight. not having you moan at me for not eating, tortured me. not having you with me tortured me. if i could go back and burn that fucking letter, i would. I miss you.” he blurted.

“but you can’t go back. life doesn’t work like that. the letter was delivered days before you went to london which meant you had time to change your mind and you didn’t. you were certain you wanted to sleep with her. you fucking kicked me out tommy. i have my life back. i have friends, i have a business i’m happy thomas. do you want to fuck that up for me?” you asked him. you were stern. you were not going back to play housewife with a man you treated you like you were nothing. no fucking way.

“no ofcourse not. i just want you to come home. you have friends at home.” he sighed out.

“i am home. this is my home. i have made it my home” you desperately pleaded with him.

“this isn’t your home. this isn’t you. sleeping with men you don’t know” he looked at you in disgust.

“how fucking dare you? you don’t know anything about me now. your the one who slept with another woman whilst i was sat at home worrying about if you would like my fucking wedding dress. or if you would cry when i walked down the aisle. you don’t get to call me a whore. when i met you, i though i had found the person i was going to spend the rest of my life with. you chose grace. i’m all pieced back together now. you do not get to come to my home and ridicule me about how i chose to repair what you broke” you raised your voice. you chose to pull him into you home after that in fear that your neighbours would stare at you through their windows.

“y/n i didn’t mean it like that” he shook his head.

“yeah you seem to do a lot of things that you regret” you scoffed. you walked into your kitchen knowing that he would follow you. you poured rum into a glass and handed to him as he sat at the kitchen table.

“i don’t-“ he started.

“just drink the fucking rum thomas” you said sternly.

“where grace then? did you kick her out aswell?” you asked.

“she moved out months ago. and before you ask it was on her own accord. ‘said it was clear i was having second thoughts and that she was going back to america”

“well at least she was smart enough to get out” you smiled fakely and to which he sighed.

“look i know you hate me but is there anyway we can fix this?” he said very candidly.

“no. no theres not” your eyes welled up.

“can you just think about it?” he asked

“think about what? what do you want from me thomas?” you deflated.

“coming back to birmingham” he asked you.

“i’d say yes but we both know i wouldn’t. and i’m not about be a liar as well as a whore like you” you laughed.

he started laughing with you which surprised you.

“this is fucked. can we atleast be friends?” he asked.

“we can be business partners” you proposed.

“i’ll take what i can get” he shook your hand.

#peaky blinder imagine #tommy shelby angst #grace shelby #peaky blinders imagines #shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x f!reader #spotify #peaky blinders

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cillianhead · 7 months

Note

Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵

Oh absolutely...!

God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)

Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Part One!

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)

18+ Minors DNI

To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.

Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.

It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.

"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."

Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.

"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.

"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"

"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."

"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."

You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.

"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."

"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."

You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.

Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.

"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.

"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"

You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."

"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.

"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.

"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.

You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.

"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.

"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."

"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.

"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.

"Fuck, tommy!"

"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.

"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.

"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.

And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."

He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.

He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."

You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.

I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!

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ikinremu · 25 days

Note

if you could do like a dumbification reader and thomas shelby i’d die happy please and thank u :)

Hi anon, thank u sm for requesting!! Hope you like it <3

Think Straight

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

Tags: Dumbificiation, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie

"You just couldn't think of anything else, could you?" Tommy scoffed, wooden door rattling shut behind the pair of you.

Your linen coated back pressed up to the wood, a familiar set of eyes honing in on your own.

"Wanted me to fuck you, is that it?" He spoke, raising one complacent brow. His hands immediately found your waist, drawing your eager bodies closer to one and other.

An intense arousal simmered between your legs, triumphant in the knowledge you'd be getting what you'd longed for. You could resist sporting a smile, nodding softly in response.

"Tommy," You began, unsure where you'd even take the sentence, though before you had time to contemplate the matter, Tommy slid a single finger into your mouth.

"Shh," He hushed, "I've heard enough from you."

Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling the callous pad of his thumb roll onto your tongue.

Using the unoccupied hand to lower the waistband of his trousers, he released his hard length with a low, relieved groan, feeling you whimper slightly against his thumb.

You reached out a hand, impatient to have him against your palm, though he dismissed it with a hint of a smirk, "So eager, eh?"

Tommy wasn't wrong; you were. Despite his presence being right before you, it wasn't enough. It wouldn't be until he was inside you.

Sliding one vacant hand beneath your skirt, he pulled the sodden cotton of your panties aside, completely baring you to his touch. "Fuck," He uttered, "You're soaking."

You murmured something practically unintelligible against his thumb as it lay against your tongue.

"Do what you're good for a spread those legs for me." Tommy commanded, a blatantly clear sense of amusement laced in his tone. And it was driving you beyond wild.

You hastily obeyed, parting your thighs, curious eyes flitting directly to the piercing pair before you.

He seized his thick, bare length within his hand, angling his tip with your drenched, welcoming cunt. With a deep, gruff groan, Tommy slid right past your drenched walls, stretching your tight cunt.

Tenderly, you moaned against his thumb once again as he filled you so flawlessly. Your heavy lids screwed together with nothing but sheer pleasure as he planted his first thrust, rocking you against the door. You instinctively swung your legs round his pelvis, desperate to feel him further.

"Gonna fuck all the thoughts out that pretty little head, eh?" Tommy assured, the pulse of his tip hitting tauntingly in your soaked pussy as his hips bucked up.

Your lips sealed as his thumb slithered from the warmth of your mouth, grabbing handfuls of your behind with both large, splayed hands. Your head lolled back, finding rest against the door, teeth sinking ferociously into your lower lip. You clenched around him, squeezing his length as his hips jerked erratically, lips curving into a slight smirk at your noises.

"Poor thing." Tommy mock frowned, "Can't think straight can you?"

You whined with broken breaths, shaking your head less than subtly, mouth falling open as his thick tip striking your g spot in a perfect rhythm. You writhed a little as he gave your ass another squeeze, arousal spiking even higher.

"That's it, all you can do is take it, hm?" He teased, greedily pulling your heat against him with each escalating thrust, "Making a pretty little mess of yourself on my cock, eh?""

His words merely fuelled the sultry fog in your head, sopping cunt twitching around his shaft,

"F-fuck.." You practically babbled out, "So good.."

"I know," Tommy chuckled in acknowledgment, switching one hand to gently cup the flush of your cheek, "Making that perfect cunt feel so good, isn't that right?"

Suddenly, the very same hand was shifting between your legs, fingertips toying with the drastic swell of your clit, only enhancing your pleasure.

Your eyes couldn't resist but flutter shut, back hollowing an arch against the door.

"Look at that.. all fucked out." He taunted, entirely unable to do anything except lust over the sight of you, watching wildly as his cock brought you closer and closer.

His skilful digits didn't relent upon playing with your swollen clit, drawing the most intoxicating moans from your throat. His bare length twitched inside you with each following thrust, evidently losing composure.

"You want me to fill this sweet little cunt?" Tommy grunted, edging nearer and nearer as your walls spasmed around him, "Give you something to think about for once?"

Nodding, you uttered trails of quiet, messy 'pleases' between your shallow panting, feeling an euphorically familiar knot become apparent in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter as you were so fulfillingly stretched around Tommy's cock.

As the pressure of his fingers quickened against your sensitive cunt, the knot so suddenly snapped, body shaking as you were hit by the ferocity of your orgasm.

Your now over-responsive pussy quivered weakly, a loud moan escaping you, Tommy doing the same. With one faulty rock of his hips, a familiarly warm burst found your cunt.

Chest rising and falling rather dramatically, your breaths gradually grew steadier.

Tommy studied you intently, offering a proud smile as he snaked a hand upwards, gently tapping the side of your head, tutting, "Nothing going on up there, hm love?"

Thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed! Please feel free to use the requests/asks feature on my page - it’d be so greatly appreciated!

#smut #smutty #drabbles #oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders smut #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader

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darthannie · 7 months

Note

Hi! Can I request Tommy Shelby who loves to spoil his gf and she has a hard time accepting it all but he reassures her in a very loving and protective way (hope you get what I mean lol) thank you! :')

a/n: This is short but I hope I did your idea justice! I just want to see him smile 😭

grand gestures

Thomas Shelby x f!reader

Warnings: Tommy being happy and in love, Tommy’s love language is gift-giving I don’t make the rules, kissing

You had been seeing Thomas Shelby for a while now and he was absolutely smitten. You have never met a man who doted on you as much as he did. Under his hardened exterior was a man longing to love and be loved.

On a particularly cold evening, you arrived home to a surprise. On your bed lay a beautiful new coat you had seen in the shops while out with Tommy. You must have stared at it in the window a little too long. He took that as a sign that you wanted it. You hadn’t even thought to go in and check the price tag, let alone purchase it.

Tommy knew you weren’t used to receiving many gifts so he made it his personal mission to make you comfortable with it. He’d started with a gold bracelet.

You had gasped when he took it out of the small box. “Tommy, you can’t. This is too much.”

“It’s not. Nothing is too much when it comes to you.” It was almost threatening. It sounded like a warning when he said it. It was foolish to underestimate how much you meant to him.

After the bracelet, he began giving you gifts periodically, even things you didn’t need or want. It was difficult for you to understand why he even bothered to give you all those things. Any other woman would welcome new dresses and jewels with open arms. Instead, you just felt like you didn’t deserve it.

You stared at the coat on your bed. Its fur collar was sure to keep you warm, you thought. The gold buttons going down one side shone in the dim light of your bedroom. You held it up and gawked at it. You rubbed your face into the fur and smiled. You didn’t notice, but Tommy was standing in the doorway.

“Why don’t you try it on?” His voice made you jump and you dropped the coat, putting your hands over your heart.

“Jesus, Tommy!” You sighed and laughed. He had been making a habit of being at your home before you were. He usually made himself known somehow, but tonight he decided to be a bit of a prankster.

“Sorry, love, couldn’t help it.” He chuckled, walked towards you, and pulled you in for a kiss. He always kissed you like it was the last time he would be able to.

He pulled away, “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Tommy, but” you looked down at the item of clothing, “you really didn’t have to. Really, you never have to.” You looked back at him and his arms were crossed, his head cocked to the right. He sighed and put his hands on your arms, caressing them.

Looking into your eyes he asked, “Do you love me?”

You replied slightly irritated “I’ve never loved a man more, Tommy, and you know that. I just- I’m not used to you spoiling me like this.”

“If you’re gonna be my girl, you gonna have to get used to it, love. Now, are you my girl?” He was deadly serious. He was never controlling, but you were his and his alone. He wanted to make sure you understood that.

You looked him in the eye. “Yes. I am.”

His hands held your waist as he pulled you in closer. He kissed you passionately. A small moan escaped. It was intoxicating. After a few moments, you pulled away for air. He put his forehead against yours and gave you a chaste kiss.

“You are worth more than anything I could ever give you. I wish I could give you the world,” he smirked, “the coat is the best I can do for now.”

You smiled softly at him. It would take some more work on your part but you knew that he did it because he cared.

“Thank you, Tommy. I love you.” You gave him a quick kiss.

He pulled away with a smile and said, “I love you, too.”

He reached over to your bed and grabbed the new coat, holding it up for you. You quickly took off your old one and he helped you put your arms through the sleeves of the new one. The inside of the coat felt just as luxurious as the exterior. The fur brushing your neck was comforting and warmed your skin. You stood in front of a full-length mirror and took in your reflection. Tommy stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your body, holding you flush against him. You turned your head to make eye contact with him.

He whispered, “You look beautiful, my love.”

You had hearts in your eyes, “You make me beautiful, Tommy.”

#annie’s asks #i proofread this but no one is perfect #annie writes #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy fic #peaky blinder fanfic #cillian x reader

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acewritesfics · 1 month

Text

A Wedding After All | Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Pregnant!Reader

Request: No.

Warnings: Alludes to cheating [I do not condone cheating]. Pregnancy. Past childhood sweethearts. Brief mention of war. One f*ck.

Word Count: 2,103

Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"Is Tommy in his office, Polly?" Y/N asks as she approaches the woman who has always treated her like a daughter. Her cheeks are flushed after walking as fast as she could to the Shelby Company's headquarters. She's come straight from the doctor's office.

Polly cast a worried glance towards the younger woman. "You alright, Love?"

"I need to talk to Tommy," she says, her gaze darting towards Tommy's office. "It's important that I speak with him."

"He ought to return at any moment. I'm sure you can tell me whatever you need to tell him," Polly remarks as she sees Y/N beginning to pace back and forth in front of her.

"Sorry, but I can't. I won't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy." Y/N is unable to calm herself as nauseous feeling settles in her stomach.

The Shelby family's Matriarch felt unsure how to handle the current situation she finds herself in. If something bothered her, Y/N would always tell her. She never went to Tommy first with anything since their relationship ended years ago.

Polly knew the woman Y/N's father married a month after his wife died, and it came as no surprise how viciously she treated the teenage girl, from spreading rumours to physically beating her, while her good for nothing father did nothing to stop his new wife.

Polly immediately scoured the entire town of Small Heath for Y/N and welcomed her into her home once she learned that she was kicked to the streets when she was fifteen.

It wasn't long before Polly introduced her to her brother's family. When she met the Shelby siblings, they forged an immediate bond. Ada, the only girl, took to her the most, relieved to have another girl to talk to. The two women are still as thick as thieves to this day. They have a sisterly relationship that not even Tommy could disrupt.

From the moment they met there was an obvious immediate attraction between Y/N and Tommy. It didn't take long for their friendship to grow into a romantic love. Their romance was a whirlwind of passion, excitement and love. The two of them only had eyes for each other. Everyone knew she was Tommy's girl, and no one dared to touch her. Even though Tommy had little in common with his father, the Shelby name came with a not-so-great reputation.

Tommy and Y/N weren't hesitant to call each other out on their foolishness, their confrontations occasionally attracting unwelcome attention. But they never went to bed angry with each other, which sometimes resulted in restless nights spent talking and making up. He had been her first love.

However, their romance eventually ended when Y/N travelled to London shortly after turning 21 to pursue becoming a nurse. Tommy wanted to promise that he'd wait for her to return to Birmingham because he knew she was the one who he was supposed to marry and spend the rest of his life with. She urged him not to make any promises to her, fearing that their parting would only cause more heartbreak. But Tommy never gave up on her, writing almost every day to persuade her that everything would work out between them. They both held hope that it would until the letters eventually became less frequent as they both became busy with their lives.

The war broke out two years into her training, and she and many other nurses were deployed to France to care for their countries' wounded. There, she was reunited with her former love. In the midst of tending to the soldier's wounds, their love for one another was rekindled.

But as the days passed, Tommy's once beautiful vibrant blue eyes turned dull, emotionless, and void as they witnessed people die in the most horrific ways. When the war was over and they were sent home, they went their separate ways once more.

It wasn't until six months ago that Y/N returned Birmingham. She'd been assigned to work in Small Heath's hospital. She preferred working at this hospital to the one she previously worked at in London. It moved at a slightly slower pace which she enjoyed.

She reconnected with Polly and the brothers once she had settled back in and called Ada at least three times a week to keep her updated now that she was living in London with her son. Despite Ada's displeasure at Y/N wanting to return to Birmingham, the younger of the two women supported her decision knowing that their hometown was where Y/N belonged.

Y/N had missed Polly and the brothers and was overjoyed to have them back in her life, as well as to be back in theirs.

She enjoyed being back in Small Heath, even if her heart was crushed by her own past decisions. She assumed she was over Tommy, that all they'd ever be is friends, and that all her old sentiments for him had vanished. Tommy was her first and only love, so learning that he was now engaged saddened her. Polly attempted to convince her that Tommy never stopped loving her and that this marriage was a waste of time and money once he realises, he's making a mistake.

But all Y/N saw was the way Tommy's soon-to-be bride looked at him, the way her eyes lit up when he walked into the room, the way he makes her smile. It was the same way she would look at him. The only difference was he never looked at her the same way he looked at Y/N. He never looked at anyone the way he was before the war. Y/N didn't know if Tommy loved his fiancée, but he was marrying her and that was enough for Y/N to know that her and Tommy will never be more than friends again.

Y/N didn't want to get in the way of their relationship, so she kept her distance from Tommy. Which had been working until one night nine weeks ago.

Polly pulls out a cigarette, places it between her lips, and lights it while she continues to watch Y/N pacing the room. She takes in the younger woman's form, seeing the small curvature of her belly as her hands rest over her stomach as if protecting it.

Then it dawns on her.

Leaving her cigarette in the ashtray, she moves towards Y/N and stops her from pacing a hole into the floor. Y/N seems surprised as Polly reaches out and gropes her breasts, feeling them for a few seconds before letting go.

"You're with child," she exclaims, not bothering to hide the smile on her face. She is not a fool. This baby can only belong to one man, and it would be the push the former lovers need to come back together. Tommy, after all, would never abandon the woman who is carrying his child, especially when it's the woman he's been hopelessly in love with since he was sixteen

"Fuck me," Y/N murmurs more to herself since she should have known Polly would notice. Nothing can ever get past the Romani woman. "Please don't say anything until I've spoken with Tommy."

"My lips are sealed," she assures as she places her hand to Y/N's belly. "Is she Tommy's then?"

"She?" Y/N raises an eyebrow in response. She wasn't going to bother responding to Polly question since she already knew the answer.

"Did you forget who you are talking to?" Polly beams, eliciting a smile from Y/N, who appears to be more at ease. "She'll be beautiful, Y/N, and you'll love her more than you've ever loved anyone, even Thomas. There is no deeper love than that between a mother and her daughter."

They both have a saddened expression on their faces as they recall who they've lost. Y/N lost her mother, and Polly lost her daughter, but they found what they were looking for in each other. Polly always believed that her daughter and Y/N's mother brought them together knowing that they needed one other.

"You understand that she'll call you nan, right?" Y/N says, making Polly smile this time.

"Of course she is," Polly says, hugging her adopted daughter. She lets go of her, looking over her shoulder as someone walks into the office.

Y/N becomes tense once more. She doesn't have to turn around to find out who it is since she can always feel Tommy's presence before she sees him. She turns around with a timid smile, the nauseous feeling in her stomach intensifying as she swallows the lump in her throat.

"Y/N," he says a little taken aback to see her.

"Good afternoon, Thomas," she says formally, trying not to seem too anxious. Since the night they spent together nine weeks ago, the two have barely spoken. Polly simply stands between them, smiling. "Do you have a moment? I need to speak with you."

"I do," he replies and leads her into his office hearing the urgency in her voice.

He glances worriedly at Y/N after closing the door. "Is everything okay?"

"I saw the doctor this morning."

As he gets closer to her, he grows increasingly worried. "Are you ill?"

"What I have does cause sickness." She claims unable to look at him. The amount of thinking she did on her walk to the office did not help her at all.

"What do you have?" He tilts her head so she can look at him. He notices tears welling up in her eyes.

She takes a deep breath in and out, gathering all her courage to tell him as h er tears begin to fall. "I'm pregnant, Tommy."

The Peaky Blinder remains calm as thoughts start running through his head. His eyes never leave hers. Y/N searches his eyes trying to find a hint of what he could be feeling or thinking.

"You are the only one I've been with, Tommy. The baby is yours and I know you are to be married so if you want, I will leave. I'll go back to London and raise her by myself. I just thought since you're the father, you have the right to know and decide what you want to do," She rambles. Removing Tommy's hands off her face, she steps back from him, her arms going around her stomach, bracing herself for his rejection.

"Or," Tommy finally speaks. "Or, you can stay here, I can marry you and we can finally be a family."

"Tommy, you're engaged to someone else," She looks at him as though he's delusional, not believing what she's hearing.

"Not a single day goes by where I don't think about you and what it would be like if we stayed together," he admits. "Because of that, I ended my engagement. I can't marry someone else when the only woman I'll ever love is standing right there in front of me."

"Tommy, I-"

"We are going to get married, we are going to have this baby and we are going to be a family," he steps towards her cupping her face again. This thumbs brush away her fallen tears. "I have never stopped loving you," he whispers before kissing her.

"I love you too, Tommy," she replies when the kiss is broken and Tommy pulls away from her. She watches him go over to his desk, pull something out of the draw and walk back over to her. In his hand is a red velvet ring box. He opens it revealing the gold ring with three red ruby stones surrounded by diamonds. She gasps recognizing his mother's engagement ring. "Your mother's ring."

"I've been saving it for you," he tells her. "You're the only one I want to wear it. Will you do me the honour in becoming my wife?"

She nods her head, as the tears start to fall harder. Tommy smiles a rare smile, one that was only reserved for her, and slides the ring onto her finger before he kisses her deeply wrapping his arms around her waist as her arms go around his shoulders.

"Well it's about bloody time," Arthur's gruff voice comes from the doorway causing the reunited couple to part.

Y/N's cheeks flush red. Tommy can't contain the smile on his face. "Brother, there's going to be a wedding after all."

"Who's getting married?" John asks missing what Arthur just walked in on. The younger of the three takes in the scene before him, seeing Y/N and Tommy wrapped up in each other. "You two are getting married?" he then asks, looking confused.

"We're getting more than that," Tommy smiles lovingly at the woman who stole his heart when they were sixteen.

#acewritesfics repost #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby

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ay0nha · 9 months

Text

Venus Rising | Thomas Shelby

SUMMARY: Three moments in which you run into Tommy, the final provoking a deal neither of you are prepared for.

“I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day—spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free…I want, I want to think, to be omniscient.” Sylvia Plath (1949)

PAIRING: Tommy Shelby x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: ANGST, swearing, smoking (tobacco/weed), criticism of time-period misogyny/misogyny in general, canon-typical things, angst again, rich people being annoying, no proof reading, rushed ending, slow burn, etc.

A/N: Oop, another Tommy fic, apparently it’s not quite out of my system. Inspired by the film How to Steal a Million (title is inspired by the original title of the book!) and @huntingingoodwill‘s post (here), ESPECIALLY with the third part of this as it comes from Carmen’s beautiful brain. Inspo is taken from various feminist writing and particularly an Agnes Varda quote. MIGHT do a part two, idk yet.

Comments are VERY encouraged! Enjoy.

“Thanks for that…” Tommy was finally catching his breath but still searched for your name. He hadn’t seen you in the gathering below and questioned if the room he found himself in belonged to you.

“We’re better off strangers.” You weren’t defensive, nor was your guard up; you were just focused. Fixated. The painting was borderline mesmerizing, and you struggled to tell if it was from the art or how your joint dwindled steadily.

Your isolation was purposeful.

The reception provoked the start of a migraine; its noise bleeding through the thick walls of the stately home only grew more deafening as the evening furthered. To find relief, you wandered the empty halls, the stairs that led to darkness, and every door that seemed particularly off-limits.

It was a simple measure of self-preservation until your seclusion was fractured.

The door opened abruptly, a body sliding through the narrow space to hide in the most prominent shadow. You thought you were caught, but the man held a finger to his lips, expression prepared for the obvious chase.

You were the perfect accomplice.

Those who came looking for him were met with your theatrics, a role well-rehearsed; your eyes never glanced to where Tommy hid in the most prominent shadows; your upset alone secured you hadn’t seen the man with the razor-lined cap; you simply wanted to return to your silence.

“You stick out, you know…” You filtered smoke through your nose, half-lidded eyes remaining ahead. The thought was absentminded, your lips tingling with indifference.

“I have an invitation.” Tommy had it forged, making it nearly identical to the one you’d received in the post.

You hummed with amusement. “I mean—you don’t belong.”

Considering how you equated his presence with his class, Tommy considered taking offense. However, your humor exposed no ill intent. You were trying to relate to him. To offer some solace, you offered the joint to him between pinched fingers.

“Let me guess, neither do you.” Tommy accepted your olive branch with a drag.

“Oh, I never will.” Although your smile remained, your tone became distant. You didn’t glance at Tommy until he took another puff. His eyes were ahead, just as yours were, attempting to see what had enraptured you in the painting. “Just like her.”

The face of the young woman depicted was covered, but her body was exposed. You were sure the owner of the canvas only valued the misinterpreted eroticism. Yet, the scene’s voyeuristic purposes were to convey the end of a very long day. You were convinced if you reached out, you could soothe her aching muscles from her obviously laborious job.

The painting's size didn’t speak for its cost. You wanted to laugh at how something so precious was stored on a wall as a forgotten decoration. However, you would do the exact same if it were in your possession. It would hang on your ceiling that way; when you rested your head against your pillow, you could get one final look at it as if it were a mirror, a grounding reminder that there was company in such an empty space.

“You pity the poor.” The statement held a questioning tone. Tommy interpreted the painting and your thoughts literally; a woman relieved of farm work was being judged by you—someone worse than the bourgeois.

“Don’t you see it?” Bitter ecstasy carried your words. You wanted to be heard. “Her and I are the same…”

Tommy returned the joint, realizing its purpose was to aid and calm you from the turmoil you hoped to escape. He felt an odd sense to comfort you but wouldn’t.

Instead, he repaid his earlier debt with unaccustomed humor, “I doubt someone like you shovels shit for a living.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You let the smoke settle in your chest, its warmth comforting. “From inception, we’re indistinguishable, born with an innocence that is only nurtured to be stolen. Our very being is never our own. Once our bodies are pried from our minds, we starve because of it.”

“Ah, I see…” Tommy started, “You’re a modern woman.”

The joint was almost a roach, but you passed it back, ridding yourself of its responsibility. The man beside you was a stranger, and you were thankful for that position. Anything said didn’t matter. It would evaporate and leave no trace. Tommy understood this well, participating in a game he didn’t know the rules of.

“Modernity is irrelevant.” You corrected. Your words sunk into your stomach, weighing you down. “This is beyond time.”

—

“Gave a try shoveling shit, eh?” Tommy crossed his legs, leaning back with an ease you were envious of. A cigarette was rolled along his lips, a habit formed by comfort.

Once lit, the image was complete. It had clicked. “You.”

Thomas Shelby. Your memory of him held a haze, that night's intoxication cherry-picking how you retained the interaction. But your vague image of him was enough to understand his occupation. You were warned against his world, but you could only do so much when your worlds overlapped so bizarrely.

“Me.” He confessed with mitigation. There was a cadence even in his silence. Clearly, he was thinking of how to approach you, but you failed to recognize how he always remained ahead in his business. “You were found near the stables.”

“Apparently, I’m a witch.” You mused. Cheltenham was never dull.

Tommy hummed, entertaining your wit only slightly. “They think you’ve cursed the horses.”

Horses were efficient beasts that were often mistreated, that much you knew. However, they intimidated you into submission. Their role in your life was distant, typically involving a reflection of wealth and nothing more.

You hid behind the stables because you misunderstood the distance you created. It had a false bottom that showed those in your world never enter their stables, allowing others to do the hard work. Those around you wouldn’t dare stain their fine fabrics how you chose to.

Although the air was foul, the stables were the only place you could breathe without the hands of your arranged date finding home where they weren’t welcomed.

You knew the man who caught you was Tommy’s brother. Though they looked different, the air surrounding them was suffocating. They were driven by brutal confidence that manifested physically and for Tommy mentally. The mind game you were presented with was just as predetermined as the races.

“I want us to understand each other.” Ash fell from Tommy’s cigarette in thought. “We do not share the same fantasy.”

“And what fantasy is that?”

“Poor little rich girl—” His words were punctuated. “—thinks she can play gypsy until she hears the dinner bell.”

Your laughter made him flinch. “And what’s for dinner?”

Tommy had vetted you. No one knew anything worthy about you. So everyone simply fantasized about you, spinning tales. Yet, you were an extraordinary nobody—an amazing unknown. Suspicion wasn’t necessary, but there was no need for his growing intrigue.

“That man you came with…” Tommy knew who he was. He was another kid that thought one day he could rule the world. But all he was capable of was poorly executed white-collar crime. “Who is he?”

You shrugged. “To him, I am his girlfriend.”

“And to you?”

“Does that matter?”

Tommy quickly learned that your only form of retaliation was posed through questions. The more philosophical, the more your guard remained. “I've been thinking about what you've said…”

The admission alone was out of character and also misrepresented. Tommy's mind was riddled with your sentiments. It was a thoughtful comment on something broader, something Tommy knew of and was growing to understand. But that wasn’t what preoccupied him.

It was how your poise wasn’t carried through your posture. It was how you expressed yourself indifferently but spoke so sharply. You were a constant contrast that perplexed him, possessed him to look into you, into your life. He planned to search until he found a moment where you put your thoughts to use the way he had.

“You, a suffragette?” Your lip curled at the thought. “Now, that, Mr. Shelby, is a fantasy.”

—

Planning an escape was satisfying but little compared to the follow-through.

The feeling solidified when the silk hem of your dress billowed was the only trail of your escape. You could hear your name echo along the corridor wall, someone sent to find you and force you back into the festivities.

“Where are you going?” The voice was a mix of a whisper and shout, reflecting nothing but urgency. The guests weren’t privy to your behavior, but your absence was clear. You heard your name again.“You must come down! You’re upsetting the guests!”

Although your home, the walls felt like they were shifting, creating a maze to your safety. The click of your heels was like a countdown to being caught. That was until your hand frantically found an antique handle of the most inconspicuous door.

Sliding into the broom closet, darkness invaded your senses.

With its veil, you could make out the sliver of light that fought to illuminate the room from the other side. It tracked the shadow of who chased you, showing you how they inched closer, hoping to hear your rapid breathing. Once enough time was given to their search; the footsteps receded in the wrong direction, their voice calling after you growing faint.

Your relief was borderline euphoric; your body demonstrated success as the tension drained the further you calmed. You sunk toward the door, forehead against the smooth, cool wood.

The sound behind was as quick as the movement. Identifiable and surprising.

The match created friction that illuminated the small space with an orange glow. You moved fast, your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth.

“Cigarette?” Tobacco filled the cramped room, the burning end of the cigarette not quite exposing your companion. But you could feel the amusement at the situation radiate from the corner.

Your stupor made you move with shock. “Christ!”

Your hand shot up to feel around for the light switch above you, yanking on the cord. Awash in light, you took in the sight of the man who was casually nursing a cigarette.

“Mr. Shelby?” You blinked at him, dumbfounded.

“Tommy.”

“What are you—

“I’m a guest.” The cigarette bobbed with his chiding.

“A guest.” You repeated, your tone brimming with doubtful sarcasm. “And what is a guest doing, hiding here, so far away from the party?”

“I could ask the same of you.” He quipped, icy expression holding your own.

“Ah, but I’m not a guest.” You defended yourself, holding up a finger as you corrected him. “This is my family’s party. I am technically a host.”

“Well—” He began, taking a puff of his cigarette, silver smoke spilling from his lips as he spoke. “—not a very good host if you’re hiding up here, eh?”

Your eyebrows cocked as you took him in. His presence meant business. “I don’t seem to remember my father mentioning gangsters would be on the guest list tonight.”

“Why not?” He replied, shrugging nonchalantly. “We’re good fun at parties.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” You mused. “But I doubt this is your kind of party.” You wished to witness him in action, for him to live up to all the stories you’ve heard about him firsthand. And you could tell he was itching for you to ask. “What have you got planned tonight?”

“If you must know—” Tommy remained externally stoic but revealed himself bluntly. “—I’m here to rob your family blind.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your father has come into quite a bit of money recently,” Tommy said, words calculated and measured. “He’s been stepping on the Blinders’ business. So, I came here tonight to take back what’s ours.”

“How much?” You asked.

“A million dollars.” He sighed, highlighting his statement with a drag of his cigarette.

“That all?” You scoffed.

“You’d hardly miss it,” Tommy explained. “And, with your family’s yearly legendary holiday party going on tonight, I figured I could hide until all the…” He took a second to ponder, searching for the words, “...rich fucks down there were drunk enough. Then, I’d take what’s mine and leave. No one would be any the wiser.”

There was a pause. He wanted you to protest, but he knew you wouldn’t. You were reading him just as well. It quickly became a stalemate, but you had the advantage of toying with him.

“Well, I should fulfill my host duties.” You sighed, tone wrapping up the unorthodox interaction. “Find my father while I’m at it; tell him bookkeepers are infested in our walls.”

“You’re not going back down there.”

Another pause. Your skin crawled with jest. “And why’s that, Mr. Shelby?”

He shook his head casually, eyes boring through yours. “You’re not going back down there because you don’t want to.”

“What?” Your laugh was soft and unexpected. It was hard to determine, but some of you would have rathered a threat. This was almost as entertaining.

“I can tell you don’t want to go down there. So don’t.”

Behind your back, you reached for the doorknob, but as your fingers grazed it, you lost your nerve. You sighed, flexing your fingers.

“Move over.” You instructed, and Tommy listened. He slid closer to the wall as you squeezed beside him, arm against him in a one-sided comfort. “Poor little rich girl opening up to a gangster. Never saw that in the cards.” You plucked the cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag, carefully considering your next words. “It’s never as simple as it seems, really.”

“Sure it is.”

“It really isn’t.” You chuckled, eyes trained on the glowing end of the cigarette.

“Enlighten me.” He replied, taking the cigarette back as you passed it to him.

The emotions you kept bottled up bubbled in your throat. Living in the gilded cage of high society had privilege but was equally emotionally destructive. It felt foreign, the thought of exposing yourself with such vulnerability; you grew nervous at the prospect of having to do so.

“Simplicity is a pipe dream when your life relies on codependency.” Just the thought of it made you dizzy. “It’s better to hide than risk being a blemish to the family.”

Tommy stayed quiet. Then against better judgment, he spoke. “Why not just leave? You’re a clever girl. Surprised you haven’t figured that out yet.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried?” You countered without edge; you knew his slight dig was only to lighten things. He said his part out of decency. “Why do you think I was at those stables? If it weren’t for your brother…”

The crackle of your drag filled the new-found silence. You weren’t sure how long you’d stay there nor how long you subject Tommy to your company. It was a moment of brevity you both seemed to need. You hadn’t meant to find him, and his plan had nothing to do with you, but that in itself sparked your idea.

“Hey, Tommy?”

He turned to meet your contact, eyebrows raised, air mixing from the proximity. “Hmm?”

“How’d you like some help with stealing that million?”

#q #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby fluff #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x f!reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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red-write-hand · 6 months

Text

“Get back down here, we’re not done yet.”

pairing -> dom!thomas shelby x f!oc

trope -> smut (hard smut, have fun y'all)

warning -> orgasm denial, fingering, overstimulation?, praise (uses of "good girl", "Mr. Shelby", "Sir"), tommy being a little mean

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Laying in a Shelby boy’s bed wasn’t as bad as she thought it was going to be. As the technical wife of a Shelby boy, this is where she liked to be best. She enjoyed the love she got here. She enjoyed loving her husband in his big plush white bed with his thick soft white comforter and the Egyptian sheets she had told him not to buy but after a very long, slow, tender distraction, he had bought them. Just made the whole experience better. She sat up on her thighs and smiled at him. He ran a hand through her hair and pulled her in close. She instinctively braced her knees on the outside of his hips, effectively straddling him. He hummed into the kiss, one of his hands coming around the small of her back, pushing her closer. They were now flush against each other. The blonde front part of her hair fell while his hand was still holding the dark brown curls. He always held her hair while she made him feel good, he adored when she came up after taking it so well, she would always give him those eyes that said ‘I love you more than you’ll ever know’. She moaned softly into the kiss as her hips slowly started to move against his. He chuckled very lowly as he let go of her hair to be able to hold her hips to make sure she wasn’t moving too fast. He kissed down his neck, nipping at certain places to elicit those pretty noises that he got a high from. She tilted her head back to expose her neck more and to make it easier for him. She had her hand on his back, her nails scratching, knowing that it made him feel good. She knew that when they woke the next morning, she would be able to feel the lines she had created. She smiled as another sweet sound escaped from her. He had one hand on the lowest point of her back, slowly, teasingly moving it down. His free hand came up to slowly grope her chest. Her moans were broken and appreciative.

“Oh f-fuck…you’re cheating…” Her usually aggressive Irish accent that could make kings and powerful men and women alike cower at her feet was now broken and soft. It was loving and compliant. It was the voice that she had grown to have around him. The opposite to his, deep, tender, with that perfect edge of dominance to it. The voice that wrapped her up in his arms and told her to be a good girl. The voice that kissed down her torso and had its finger inside her. The voice that had married her on a whim and made sure she knew that he truly loved her. The voice that pulled her into his lap when he was tired and needed physical touch. The voice that connected with those eyes. Oh those eyes. Those eyes that didn’t look like they could hurt a soul even though they had seen so many die by his hand. Those eyes that could still look innocent even after loving her so roughly and ruthlessly that she couldn’t stand the next day. Those eyes that could make her drop to her knees no matter where she was or who she was with. Between his voice and his eyes, she knew that he was hers, and she was his.

“Yeah, but you’re the one who likes it.” His voice was perfect. She adored everything about it. Everything about every inflection that came with the Birmingham accent. That gritty edge to it. She laughed slightly. He let go of her hips and she started to get up, under the assumption that they were done for the night.

“Get back down here, we’re not done yet.” He flipped her so she was under him. He bit slightly harder on her neck. She groaned softly.

“Maybe warn a girl next time…could’a given me a heart attack.” He hummed and kissed her gently. She had just registered that his knee was gently brushing against her panties. She squeezed her eyes shut to see if she could block him out. He laughed. She could feel his kisses going lower. She could feel his breath on her stomach. She tried to squirm to create more friction but his hands that had she adored so much, those hands that had held her comfortingly on their wedding day, those hands that had cut men’s throats open, held her fast against the bed. She whined and pleaded for him to do something, anything, but no. He chided lovingly.

“Oh no, only good girl’s who don’t stay up, waiting for me to get my work done. Now maybe if you’re good for me and take your punishment, then I might consider fucking you so hard that you’ll have to skip work and then you’ll have to spend the day with me instead.” She thought this over in her mind. Go to work and effectively melt her brain away or stay with her gorgeous husband and have nice, tender, love-filled morning sex? How had he given her such an easy choice?

“I’ll be good. I promise.” Of course she was lying through her teeth, but everyone trusts a pretty face like her, anyone who didn’t have some sort of common sense. Not that Tommy didn’t have common sense, he had much more than an average person in Birmingham. He just sometimes thought with his heart. She could feel his breath on her thighs. Right at the apex of her thighs. She let out a soft moan as she felt his hot breath. His hands snaked around the back of her thighs and held them firmly, but not too hard, just to make sure she didn’t snap her legs shut when she got flustered. She could feel him trying to decide something.

“Will you get on with it? Here I thought you were going to be this amazing husband who makes his wife feel good–” She felt her hands get slammed into the bed. He had a strong grip on her crossed wrists. His voice came out through his trademark smirk. The smirk that had brought down duchesses and queens, princesses and wives. The smirk that could make anyone do anything. The smirk that every Shelby had. That was, frankly, one of the reasons that she loved him. Between his smirk and his eyes, she had fallen hard. She whimpered and struggled against his grip but then a searing kiss was placed on her soft lips. A searing kiss that branded her with a teasing love. The type of love that was mean but in a caring way. The type of love that slapped you in the face and kissed away your tears. The type of love that made fun of you and put you on a pedestal. It was all of that wrapped up in cornflower blue eyes. Those eyes could kill anyone if they wanted to, even her, she’d gladly die in those eyes.

“And here I thought you said you were going to be good. Being patient falls under being good, love.” She squirmed when the kiss went away. She wanted another, then another, then another. She wanted every kiss he was able to give her. He chuckled and gently nipped her inner thighs. When she finally registered that a small mark had formed, she moaned. She needed more, finally, he gave her more, she felt his other hand slither out from under her thigh and she knew what was about to happen. She felt her black panties slide off her effortlessly without it even dawning it on her that she had moved. She could hear his voice, but it seemed muffled to her brain.

“Now remember, be a good girl and I’ll give you more than my fingers, beautiful.” She moaned in response. She gasped when two of his fingers entered her. She had spent restless nights fantasizing about his fingers. The fingers that she had seen hold cigarettes gently, fingers that had pulled triggered and killed so many, fingers that had been inside her so many times before this. Her filthy moans filled the bedroom as he pumped his fingers repeatedly. This was her punishment, the punishment that she would enjoy. That was, until her actual punishment arrived. Her face was flushed and her breath was ragged. Her hair was spread out on the pillow below her, it was a huge curly mess, it was big and hard to take care of to begin with but now? So close to a release that she desperately needed? It just got worse. It was a frizzy and uncontrollable mess. Before, he was holding it together so at least it looked more together but currently, it was all spread out, a brown puddle of curls on the white pillow. She really had to cut it much shorter, to her jaw was bad enough, next time it would be to her ears. She had been so close to a release, the release she had been waiting for all night, but no. She was so close, so incredibly close. She had even felt the hot pit in her stomach but then— but nothing. Tommy had pulled his fingers out and sighed. He gave her a look that said it all, ‘That was your real punishment, darling.’

“You look so pretty when you’re about to get that sweet release. The thing is, it wouldn't be much of a punishment if I just let you feel that ecstasy, would it?” She didn’t answer, she was annoyed but she was also still in the headspace of having his fingers drawing her so close to the edge. She felt his fingers inside her again just for a minute, but this time it was more than two, it was three. She let out a languid sound and fell back against the bed. She wanted it to go on forever, that glorious burn that she craved so much. That burn that came from the most loving of flames. That burn that she would die a fiery death in if she was asked to. That burn that was so perfect that it– but no. It stopped. She had been brought to the edge again but no. No release. No nothing. She groaned in protest but all she got back was his laugh. His laugh that she only heard when she was getting denied something that she had already staked a claim to. The laugh that truly added insult to injury. This time, she hadn’t even noticed she had even made a mistake. He leaned close to her ear. His voice was unsettlingly smooth and deep. Not that it wasn’t normal for his voice to be this deep and smooth, just unsettling that it had chosen to come out at this minute.

“You didn’t answer. Now that just isn’t polite, is it?” She dropped her head against the pillow, her curls cushioning her drop even more. She knew she had to respond, or her punishment would get much worse.

“Yes, Sir.” She added the ‘Sir’ right at the end to see if he would be gracious and let her have that release that she wanted so badly. It was a long shot but she would do anything for that release only he could give her.

“Oh, you’re calling me Sir? Sounds strange coming out of your mouth. Mr. Shelby just sounds so much coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.” She smiled weakly. It had been a thing with them for a while; calling him Mr. Shelby had been their code that she wanted him, usually very badly, when he was in meetings. She kissed his jaw and he chuckled. She could feel something very hard digging into her thigh and smiled mischievously. She flipped the two of them over and straddled his hips. She ran her newly freed hands down his chest. She nipped at his neck a good couple times, just high enough that he couldn’t cover them with his collar. She felt his hands at her hips, holding her in place. She smirked triumphantly, tonight was going to be, hopefully, a long one. Most nights were long but she had a feeling that tonight was going to be a much longer one. One of those nights where they passionately loved each other until the sun finally rose and both of them got dressed for work, trying to keep their hands off each other. She teasingly kissed him again.

“Alright then, Mr. Shelby.”

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y'all. pls tell me if i forgot anything in the warnings. pls and thank u!

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x oc #thomas shelby x f!oc #top!thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby x f!oc #top!tommy shelby #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby #thomas shelby

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muneca-lemon-steppa · 2 months

Note

Alfie noticing that guys who are way younger than him (like Michael? John?) having a thing for reader, who is close to age to these young gentlemen but has only eyes for ol' man Alfie? Thoughts?

Near Deadly Sin

Alfie Solomons x F!Reader; fluff

AN: IM BAAAAACCCCKKK hello my loves it’s taking me forever to write again but I’m glad to be back. I miss you all and hope you all are doing well!!! MUAH - Mo

No. No this acidic flame burning between his ribs is not jealousy.

Not at all.

The embers stoked in his chest. The flames licking up his neck and around his ears. These are normal… manly… sensible reactions.

Alfie had been invited for ‘drinks’ with the Shelbys. He had refused adamantly, and was only coerced upon your promise to accompany him and to never. leave. his. sight. As if you would ever be far from him or out of his thunderous gaze. But as he is sitting across from Thomas and Arthur and Polly, he is regretting ever bringing you near this nonsense. This den of wolves and snakes. The murmurs of Thomas faded like the crackle of a radio as he focused in on John Shelby’s lustful gaze over you. With every sweep of his young and unbridled eyes and suck of his teeth, Alfie became more and more enraged. Not that you noticed. You didn’t notice John’s roving eyes or the quickening pulse of your husband next to you. You were content sipping the tea Polly served, making quiet conversation with Ada in the corner, holding a babbling Karl.

Alfie knew there was supposed to be a deal or something tonight. Or maybe an update on a job. Or something. It didn’t matter. Fuck the business. Fuck the Shelbys. Fuck John Shelby. Fuck it all. Standing quickly, pushing through the screaming pain of his back, Alfie grunts, “Darling get your coat. We’re done here.”

Your head spun, “Meyn Likht?”

“Up. Coat. Now. Cyril needs us.”

You press your lips in a firm line. Holding back your tongue from lashing at him for his impromptu exit. You knew what he actually meant. Thinking of Cyril was his code for indicating murderous intent that needed to be snuffed out immediately. You watch Alfie as you slip on your coat, going to Thomas to whisper something just out of your reach. Had you heard him, you would have heard the volcanic timber of his voice promise, “You control that little brother of yours Tommy yeah? It’s against holy law to look at another man’s wife like he been doing. Will have to go back to Mosaic law if he don’t shape up.”

With heavy stomps he approaches John, who is trying yet failing to keep a stone expression. “You keep them eyes to yourself little boy. Or someone may just take ‘em from you.”

“Darling? Cyril needs to be let out and will not wait for you!”

With a firm pat on the cheek Alfie turned away, gripping your waist firmly, hand as hot as a brand on the skin under your dress.

It’s late now, Alfie is fuming under the crisp sheets and thick quilts layered living on the soft bed. He’s pretending to read. Putting on his glasses and taking them back off again to stare at the ceiling. You emerge from the bathroom, face flush from the hot water, and hair pulled away from your bare shoulders. Arms crossed across your chest, you sit on Alfie’s side of the bed, “You want to talk about it like a grown up now?”

He huffs and shifts lower into the bed, as if to hide from you. With a shrug you walk back to your side, shuffling your sock feet across. You crawl back in bed, back to Alfie to let him fume. It was better than fighting with him to get him to share his feelings.

“He was looking at you.”

“Well Karl is a baby darling.”

“Not Karl! John fucking Shelby! Little bastard was undressing you with his eyes! And you said nothing!”

Ah… there it was.

You let yourself sit up to look at your husband’s face. Folded up into himself, glasses precariously balanced on his nose, cheeks ruddy from rage. Jealousy was his greatest sin and vice. Bigger than rage. Bigger than his love of rum. He was an only child and as such he grew into a man who did not like to share. Not even your image. You curled up next to him, like a cat preening for attention. “Meyn Likht… I didn’t even see him. You shouldn’t be jealous of a figure of vapor.”

“What you don’t notice the… the young men just staring at you? Gapped mouths like dead fish?”

“Those children?” You hum, gently kissing his scruffy jaw and temple.

“Those… men closer in age… to you.”

With that you crawl into his lap, looping your arms around his broad shoulders. “Darling… what could I do with those men? I’d break them.”

“Break them?” He chuckles, gripping you tighter.

“They’re too soft. Too pretty. No. I like my men… rougher… more sturdy… someone who can stand strong and not worry about their pretty face getting dirty. I like my old man.”

“Do you now?”

“Love him even. Deliriously in love with him. Couldn’t live without him.”

Before you could take another breath, he was on you, kissing all over your face, tickling you with his rough beard and mustache. “Good Lord woman you make me feel 20 again.”

#alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x you #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x y/n #peaky blinder fanfic

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graveyard-stray · 4 months

Text

Me or Her. || Thomas Shelby x f!Reader

Summary: All your life you’ve loved Tommy, and you finally thought he loved you too. But then, Grace came along and had to ruin everything.

(No hate to Grace. She slays. This is all just for story purposes)

Word Count: 2.5K

Tags: Angst + Fluff, unrequited love, jealousy, Smut. Dom!Tommy, Praise, dirty talk?, Grinding/Dry humping, Lowkey rough sex, loving tho, P in V sex, little bit of oral, lowkey desperate tommy and reader. No use of Y/N!!

A/N: Not proofread! Dont crucify me please…😰

“What is your god damn issue?” Tommy asked you, a frustrated expression on his face. You had run off during the large event the Peaky Blinders were currently hosting.

Ya see Tommy was your boyfriend, or something of the sort- as Tommy wasn’t the kind of guy you really would call a boyfriend. But none the less you were involved and had been for quite some time.

The way you felt about him was strong and undeniable. You had been in love with him for years, you never thought he felt the same. You felt even more sure of that when you saw him with Grace. You could tell clearly there was romance between them, a certain spark. It broke your heart but you would of course pretend to be happy for them.

But, after she had gone to New York you finally had your chance. After some time Tommy finally took some notice to you. It didn’t take too long for you two to start being…involved. Sleeping together, going to all the important events together, spending nights together at his place, the whole nine yards. Everything couples would do.

But the night of this party, no different than the others, who would walk through the door? Grace.

your heart sinks as you see her walking into the party, dressed beautifully and looking around clearly searching for something- or someone.

You moved closer to Tommy’s side and grabbed onto his arm, staying almost attached to him. He didn’t mind of course, simply continuing on with his conversations and dealings.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Grace coming over, in an attempt to make it clear what you and Tommy were you put your face in the crook of his neck, kissing him softly. He didn’t react but, you hadnt expected him too. That wasn’t the goal. The goal was to make Grace back off.

But, Grace came over anyway. Interjecting into Tommy’s conversation. The look on his face when he saw her shattered your heart. AJ mix of surprise and pleasure in seeing her. She asked to speak to him alone and he agreed, he told you to stay where you were and he would be back soon but you just couldn’t. As soon as he went to walk off with her you left the party, ran off to the room you were staying in to cry.

That’s how you got where you were now. Arguing with Tommy in the room that you so often shared.

“What is your god damn issue?” He was scowling at you as you looked at him with a mixture of anger and sadness on your face. “My issue? Your the one who went off with that whore!” You snapped back at him, your voice breaking from your crying.

He scoffed, “is that really what this is about? I was just talking to her calm the fuck down.” He scolded, still clearly annoyed at your reaction.

You stood up and got closer to him, “Oh please Tommy, I’m not blind! I saw the way you looked at her when you saw her. So glad she was back from New York. I mean come on- I just….” You explained, trailing off at the end trying to find the words.

“You just what? Spit it out.” He said demanding, looking down at you as he stepped closer to you, you could feel his breathe on your face. “I just thought you loved ME, Tommy.” You said, coldly. “Bloody hell, your being ridiculous. I do!” He responded, turning around and putting some space between the two of you.

You stayed in your spot glaring at him, new tears pricking your eyes. “No you don’t. You love her. You always have and I should’ve opened my fucking eyes sooner! I should’ve known you would never love me like you love her!” You barked at him, those new hot tears now falling down your cheeks.

“I do! Just calm down and listen to me when I say that I do!” Tommy repeated, an evident tone of annoyance in his words. “Then say it.” You said, wiping the tears from your face.

He looked confused for a moment, “say what exactly?” He questioned honestly, but with his same strong and cold tone.

“Say that you love me. I know you’ve said it to her before so your bloody capable of it. So, if you really do love me, then SAY IT.” You demanded, sternly looking him right in the eyes. Most men you knew didn’t dare look at him in the eyes, but you weren’t scared of him. No matter what.

“Your being insane, I just said it!” He defended, his tone still cold but there was a clear look of searching in his eyes. Like he was struggling to find the right words to say, to find the right way to express what he wanted to. But his avoidance of doing what you asked was a very clear answer to you.

You kept your eyes glued to his and just shook your head disapprovingly, “Whatever Tommy. I can’t keep fucking doing this, I was gonna tell you to choose between me or her but it seems you already have.” The words were like venom leaving your lips. You turned to walk towards the door, your heels clacking on the floor with every step.

Before you could go the sound of Tommy’s voice registered in your mind. It was softer now and more sincere than before. “I love you.” he said, making you stop in your tracks but not yet turn to face him. “I love you so much and it scares the shit out of me.” He confessed.

You turned on your heels to face him, “what do you mean? Why does it scare you?” you asked sincerely, the look in your eyes softer now, and more sympathetic.

“After what happened with Grace? Why the hell wouldn’t I be frightened. I didn’t wanna put myself out there again just for ya to bloody leave as soon as things got good, or worse for you to be put in danger cause of me.” Tommy explained, looking away from your gaze.

He felt your soft hand on his cheek, his rough skin contrasting your own. He looked at you and quickly plunged his lips onto yours. You were a bit taken aback but quickly reciprocated.

The kiss was deep and passionate but also had an energy of desperation in it. Tommy wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close to him, your body flush against his own.

It didn’t take long for the kiss to develope into his tongue exploring your mouth, heavy breathing and soft, muffled, moans filling the otherwise silent room. Tommy eventually grabbed you a bit roughly and pushed you down onto the bed, crawling over so he was hovering above you, doing his best not to break the kiss in the process.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled it softly, how you knew he liked, and he groaned softly into your mouth. He ground his hips against yours, his clothed crotch rubbing against yours, which was also still covered by your formal party wear.

Tommy continued to softly grind against you for a moment as the kiss continued hastily, before you pulled away to whine, “Tommy. Need you.” is all you could muster out, the feeling of desperation making you practically squirm beneath him.

He just nodded before sitting you up and pulling your dress up and over your head with ease. You felt the cold air hit your now almost bare upper body and you could feel your nipples harden under the fabric of your bra.

You felt his mouth attach to your neck, kissing and sucking on the skin softly as his hands snaked around your back and undid your bra quickly, it was pretty clear he was experienced with this but you tried to ignore that fact as it is kinda related to what started the argument to begin with.

His lips continued to kiss and nip at the skin of your neck, shoulders, and collarbone before you placed your hands on his chest and started gently tugging at his suit jacket, attempting to get it off. He chuckled and pulled away, quickly taking off his jacket as you worked to unbutton his shirt. It wasn’t long before his top was also completely bare.

Tommy took this time to admire you, his eyes trailing down your neck and shoulders seeing the marks he left they would definitely be noticed tomorrow, and then to your breasts. He smiled a bit and kissed right above your chest before looking back up at you.

“s’beautiful” Tommy mumbled before putting his hand on your cheek and pulling you into another heated kiss. His other hand now groping your boob, causing you to moan into the kiss and grind your hips up into nothing.

He noticed your actions and chuckled, “someone’s needy.” He teased and you nodded quickly. “Let me show you how much I love you.” He whispered softly into your ear as he laid you back down on the bed, placing a pillow underneath your back to make you more comfortable.

His hands slid down your sides, eventually reaching your panties and pulling them down your legs. He leaned down and kissed your clit softly before licking a stripe up your cunt. “Fuckin’ delicious” he practically moaned before coming up and kissing you again so you could taste yourself on him.

your hands reached down and messed with the waistband of his pants making him chuckle once more, “So desperate, So needy, it’s adorable.” Tommy sweetly. “Just need you so bad Tommy. So pretty…want you.” You praised him as your hand cupped his cheek and you kissed his lips softly. “Please” you practically begged.

A smiled played on his lips as he undid his belt and unbuttoned his trousers. “How can I say no to that beautiful face?” He whispered.

It wasn’t long at all before he had taken himself out of his boxers and was lining up with your entrance. He smiled down at you reassuringly “you ready love?” he asked, he would ask if you were ready when he was feeling extra loving, because he was generally quite large and he knew this- so he wanted to make sure. You simply nodded and this enabled him to slowly push inside of you.

The soft hiss that left your mouth soon turned into a pleasurable moan as he pushed inside of you until he was all the way in. He looked down at where you were connected and groaned, titling his head back. “Fuck baby. You take me so well.” He praised sweetly.

after just a moment of letting you adjust he started moving in and out. His pace started off slow, pulling out a bit and slowly easing back inside as far as he could go. But the pleasure was just so good as he slowly fucking into you, he needed more.

“So good f’me. Taking me nice and slow.” He praised once more. Starting to slowly pick up speed. You nodded, as any time you tried to speak the words became muffled by moans and whines.

“More..please.” You were able to mumble out, a whiney and desperate tone in your voice. Tommy groaned and bit his lip at hearing you beg for more of him like that. “If you insist sweetheart.” He responds rather quietly before picking up the pace.

He steadily builds up speed till he is at the point where he is quickly pulling all the way out just to thrust back into you as deep as he can before pulling out and doing it again and again. The room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your moans and mumbles and his quiet groans accompanying them.

You could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, and he could too as your walls began to clench around him causing him to let out another moan. “Fuck.” he moaned under his breathe. “I’m close sweetheart.” Tommy said quickly, his hips still pistoning into you.

“Me too.” You moaned back, your head nodding feverishly. The feeling in your lower stomach was burning and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

What finally threw you over the edge was when his hand went down and found your clit, rubbing quickly circles onto it. The sensation of his rough calloused fingers on your sensitive clit, combined with him roughly fucking into you was enough to have you coming undone.

You squirmed beneath him as your walls clenched around him and you came while moaning his name loudly, causing him to let out another deep moan. “Fuck. Yes cum all over my cock. Good girl.” Tommy muttered as he kept pushing in and out of you. As you rode out of your high you grabbed his face in your hands, “cum inside. Please.” You asked him, a desperate look in your eyes.

This alone was enough to send him over the edge. He nodded as his hips stuttered and in just a few more thrusts he was filling you up, spilling his seed inside of you, this just caused another moan of his name to fall from your lips.

As he came you could hear him mumbling, “fuck. So good. Love you. Love you so much.” Where all the words falling from his beautiful mouth as he came inside of you.

You both took a moment to catch your breathes before he carefully slid out of you, causing an involuntary and sorta strange noise to leave you. He got up and kissed your forehead before grabbing a damp towel and using it to clean you off gently, dabbing your skin with the nice cool water.

After he finished cleaning you he climbed back in bed, still naked and pulled you into him. You snuggled close and rested your head on his chest. You two just sat there for a moment. Enjoying each other.

“I love you so much.” Were the words he said to break the silence. “And if it takes me never so much as looking at Grace again to make you happy then I will do it.” He promised, kissing the top of your head gently.

You leaned your head a bit and placed a soft kiss on his chest. “Thank you. I love you too.” You said dreamily, snuggling closer into him.

He wrapped both arms around you and held you close. You both had honestly forgotten about the party that was still going on downstairs. You couldn’t seem to care as you just held each other and enjoyed each other presence.

You fell asleep together that night, both naked and holding one another. The next morning when You and Tommy went to go get breakfast and were once again interrupted by Grace who attempted to speak him. Tommy just continued talking to you. He didn’t even look at her.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fucking blinders #smut #x reader #fem reader #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy

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pinguwrites · 6 months

Text

To Lend a Hand | Thomas Shelby

Pairing -> thomas shelby x sister!reader

Summary -> After catching your brother masturbating, you decide to go to him for help in a matter you've been struggling with—the art of pleasure, and specifically, how to do it for yourself.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), a little dark!!! bc dub-con near the end, age-gap (not specified, but reader's in her early twenties and tommy late twenties/early thirties), fingering, incest (half siblings so reader doesn't have to be white/reader's implied to not be fully white), masturbating, oral sex f receiving, fingering, mention of lizzie perverted!tommy, spanking/slapping pussy, tommy's lowkey condescending, use of sir

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Thomas Shelby wasn't sure how it happened. He hadn't meant to fall for his younger sister, not when you were so young and innocent and filled with potential, but things happened, and, as he reasoned with himself, so did love. He didn't choose it, nor could he stop it, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he tried to push down his desires. He would find himself touching your shoulder whenever he could, siding with you whenever you argued with the other siblings, and even taking the blame for you when you got in trouble. He knew he could never have you in the way he wanted. You were a forbidden fruit, an apple he could never take a bite out of.

He always thought it was cruel. You were right there, right in front of him, but just out of his reach. Your laughter made him smile on even the darkest days, your touch made him warm in the coldest nights, and when he was alone and scared and vulnerable, all he had to do was come into your room and curl up in your arms as you held and comforted him to sleep.

He tried to drown his feelings with sex. Partially as a distraction from you. He wanted to guide his attraction to other women, if possible, though he also just enjoyed fucking and the pleasure that came with his cock buried deep inside of a hole.

But sometimes it wasn’t enough. Sometimes, while he had whores on all fours, he would still think of you, of his beautiful little sister, and how it would feel to fuck you, to marry you, to love you in all the ways he wanted to.

Tommy made sure no one was nearby before he sat down on his bed and pulled out his cock. It was a big thing, a fact he was proud of. Long and thick, and it always got hard fast. He just knew you would like it, if only he could show it to you.

He spit on his hands and started pumping his length, his chest rising and falling. His breaths came out in shallow gasps as he increased the speed of his movements, imagining his hands as yours. You would be on your knees, looking up at him through fluttering eyelashes, teasing him no other woman could.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence. He wanked a lot, like most men did. When he was in the military, as a teenager wet behind the ears, and especially now, though a lot had changed from each of those periods in his life.

He felt like he was just getting worse and worse. Like a rusting car. He was an awful person, he couldn’t deny that, but he didn’t want to be an awful brother to you.

He caught a glimpse of himself in his mirror, the small one on his dresser, but he looked away. A part of him was ashamed. All you needed was someone to look up to, yet here he was, coming at the thought of you.

"Fuck!"

Tommy froze and turned his head, only to see you, the devil herself, at the door, eyes wide and stuck on the scene at the bed.

It was like time had frozen. Tommy’s hand was still on his cock, but he wasn’t moving. He was looking at you, and you were looking at him — or more so, his body.

But before Tommy could say anything you shut the door. He could hear the sound of your footsteps as you hurried away.

Shit, he thought. Shit! He should have made sure the door was locked. What was he thinking? Had he just ruined things between you and him? He knew you were aware of his lustful activities, but to see it in person . . .

He sighed. The mood was ruined. He put his cock back in his pants and got up to wash his hands. He was going to have to talk to you about, make sure everything was okay.

It was not a conversation he was looking forward to.

+++

“Tommy?”

Tommy recognized your voice, and the gentle knocking of your knuckles. He was in his office, just finished arranging a meeting via his secretary, when you stopped by.

He hadn’t gotten a chance to talk to you yet. This was the perfect time.

“Come in, sweetheart.”

He always called you that, despite what his Aunt Polly and Ada thought. Ada used to be jealous that he never gave her such an endearing nickname, though she quickly got over that as she aged, and Aunt Polly, well, she thought it was inappropriate, but in her desperation to hope nothing was going on, she eventually ignored it and chalked it up to sibling affection.

Arthur and John never really cared. They always thought he was being soft on you, and while there was the occasional teasing, nothing major ever came out of those talks.

You walked in, looking down. Your face was filled with conflict and indecisiveness, as if you were hesitating to tell him something.

“Listen,” Tommy said. “I’m sorry you saw that. A girl like you has no business—”

“It’s not about that,” you blurted, playing with the hem of your dress. You never did that unless you were nervous.

You sat down on one of the couches near his desk, finally meeting his eyes.

“I just . . . I have an odd request.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Odd request, eh?” You didn’t say anything, unsure of how to continue. “Well, don’t keep me in the dark. Tell me what it is that has got you all flustered like a silly school girl.”

You huffed at the comment and paused, then decided to just go through with it. Tommy wouldn’t judge you, would he? He never did in the past.

“I’ve been with men. A few times. Sex and all that,” you started, trying to be as brave as you could.

Tommy did not like hearing that. He knew you had partners. He warded off as many suitors as he could, but you were sneaky, and found ways to slip through his restrictions. The thought of you fucking someone else made his heart thump with silent anger, however hypocritical it was. Both because he wanted to protect you, and also because he wanted it to be him you were with.

“Go on.”

“But they’ve never . . . you know.” You made a confusing motion with your hands. “Look, you promise that if you don’t like where this is heading, you tell me to stop and leave? And we never bring this up again?”

“I don’t want you to stop.” But seeing the look on your face made him nod. “I promise.”

“They’ve never.” You wrung your hands awkwardly. “Made me come,” you finally said.

Tommy didn’t give any indication, nor expression that showed he was surprised, but he was. Out of all the things he was expecting you to say, this was not one of them.

“And what has that got to do with me?”

He hated how harsh he was being, but he felt like he was going to break at any moment. Break this facade, carry you in his arms, and pleasure you himself.

It was just more proof that these other men didn’t deserve you. They couldn’t even give you an orgasm.

“I just — you know, I was wondering, how much do you know about women? I know you see Lizzie and your other whores, and I know you do it for your own pleasure, but do you know how to . . .” you trailed off.

“I’ve made women come, yes,” he answered. “Many times.”

“Could you . . .” You took a deep breath. “Could you show me how?”

This time, Tommy did have a reaction, a very visible one. A faint blush dusted his cheeks, though he tried very hard to keep that from showing.

“Sweetheart,” he said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m sure you can do that on your own.”

“But I can’t,” you said, getting bolder by the second. “I’ve tried, and I just can’t. And, well, you know how to — and —and you’re the only one I trust!”

You were seriously regretting this.

“I’m sorry,” you added quickly, getting up from your seat. “I’m sorry, Tommy. Please don’t be mad. Let’s just forget about this and move on—”

But Tommy stood up as well, and grabbed your wrist. “No.”

You stood there, scared. He wasn’t going to yell at you, was he? Even worse, what if he told Polly? You were done for, this was all over. It was going to be so miserable during family meetings and Christmas dinners and —

Tommy tilted your chin up. “You want me to touch you, is that it? You want your big brother to pleasure you?”

You nodded, rubbing your legs together.

How could he say no? How could he say no when you were asking him so politely? It was his job after all, no? To teach you things? And he would be damned if he let another man do it for you first. It was his responsibility. His opportunity.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Tommy.”

He tapped your cheek twice. “Good. But if I’m going to do this for you, we need to have some rules, alright?

“One: you don’t tell anyone. No family, no friends, no strangers. Got it?”

“Yes, Tommy,” you said, biting your lip, something that made him loose his focus for a moment.

“Two: you listen to me. No saying ‘stop’, no disobeying my orders. You said it yourself, you don’t know how to do it. I’m the experienced one. You trust me and take it. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

Tommy’s eyes darkened in lust. “Go to your room and lock the door. Wait for me.”

Feeling a rush of excitement flush your body, you grinned and ran off to do as he said.

A while later, you heard his voice and welcomed him in, making sure to lock the door behind you guys this time. You didn’t want someone else to share the incident you had earlier today. That would be absolutely mortifying.

You expected him to go easy on you, to take things slow, but was shocked when he pushed you onto his bed, held your legs up, and pulled down your skirt.

Now, you were only in your panties, trying to cover your thighs. “Tommy!” you squeaked, feeling shy all of a sudden, even though this was your idea.

“Legs up,” he ordered.

You stayed still. “It’s okay if you can’t make me, you know.”

“I will,” he responded arrogantly. “Now, are you going to do as I say?”

You instinctively closed your legs together. This was more embarrassing than you anticipated. You were wet and horny, but still.

He crawled on top of you, cupping your face in his hands. His lips were inches from yours, and all you wanted to do was reach up and kiss him.

“I know you’re scared, but you asked for this, sweetheart.” He brushed the hair out of your face. “I won’t hurt you. All I want to do is make you feel good. Will you let me to do that? Will you let your big brother take care of you?”

His words were enough to convince you. You slowly took your panties off, an agonizing pace for Tommy. But the moment you tossed them to the side of the room you closed your legs again.

“I don’t know if you’ll like it . . .” There were so many things you hadn’t thought of. You were grateful he was willing to help you, but what if it all went wrong? What if he thought you were disgusting and left? What if he made fun of you?

No. Tommy wouldn’t do that, you told yourself. Stop doubting him.

Tommy gave you an incredulous look. “Like what? Your cunt? Oh, sweet girl. I already love it.”

He placed a pillow under your lips and settled you down properly, finding a comfortable position for both you and him.

“You’re tense.” He ran a hand up through thigh, making you shudder. “Relax.”

You shut your eyes, arms above your head. You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Your wildest fantasies were finally coming true.

Tommy pried your legs open, and after a few moments, you felt him kiss your clit, gently, but firm, murmuring with that sincerity he reserved for only a few, “Beautiful.”

Your eyes flew open and you looked down, seeing Tommy between your legs. You immediately went to run your fingers through his dark brown hair. No man had ever gone down on you before. You thought Tommy would just finger you and get on with it, but here he was, about to eat you out.

“Relax,” he repeated, hand still running up and down your thigh.

You closed your eyes.

He kissed your cunt again, but a little lower this time. “Beautiful.”

Did he realize how flustered he was making you?

Another kiss, lower. “Beautiful.” Another one. “Beautiful.”

He started sucking, delicately on your clit, looking up at you through fluttering eyelashes as he observed your reactions, but just in a few moments, after he briefly sweeped his tongue over, he lightly bit down and increased the intensity.

You moved your hips up and down, squirming. You had never felt like this before. You had tried fingers and pillows and objects but none of that compared to Tommy’s mouth on you. He was like magic.

Your continued running your fingers through his hair. You loved playing with it. Sometimes, you wished Tommy would grow it out longer.

“Put your hands here,” Tommy said in between kisses. “I want to hold them.”

He placed your hands down in a straight line, so he could interlock his fingers with yours as he ate you out. It felt oddly romantic. Like there was no one else in this moment but you and him, him and you, together in an act of pleasure.

You squeezed Tommy’s palm, struggling to keep yourself still. You didn’t want to accidentaly buck your hips up into his face, or squiggle away from him, but you were finding it increasingly difficult not to.

Tommy didn’t seem to mind. He just rode you through your movements, nose brushing up against your cunt. He was making obnoxious sucking sounds, like puckering, which made you try and hide your face by turning your head to the side.

He pulled away, making you whine in disappointment, but then he slapped your cunt and you yelped at the stinging, still nice sensation.

“Tommy!”

He did it again, harder, with a grin on his face. “Like that?”

“No-o,” you lied.

That didn’t stop him. He left a few more slaps to your body, revelling in your reactions, but before you could close your legs, he pulled them apart and plunged a finger inside your hole, vigorously rubbing up against that swollen spot inside of you.

You moaned, arching your back. “Tommy.”

“Such a sweet girl, eh?” he praised. “My sweet girl. Can’t believe you’ve never cum before. I’ll be your first.”

Tommy was more interested in giving you your first orgasm than claiming your virginity. The idea that it was him, not you, or any other man, that could make you feel this good, that was the only one that could make you feel this good, inflated his ego.

His fingering was rough. You tried to take note of how he did it, curling his fingers inside of you, but it was difficult to focus, and before long, you felt something unfamiliar come rushing through your body, and with a jump of your heart, you realized what it was.

With a cry, you came onto his fingers, feeling a little dizzy for a moment. It wasn’t necessarily as mind-blowing as portrayed in those romance books you always read, but it certainty felt amazing, like if you could do it all day, you would, just in your room, groaning and sighing, nothing but you and yourself.

But Tommy didn’t stop.

You looked down, eyes wide, as Tommy continued to pump in and out of you, his breath labored, but his pace even faster and rougher, to the point where you felt like your mind was jumbling up.

It felt good. Too good. Too much for you to handle.

“Enough,” you tried to say, throwing your head back onto the pillow. “I came, s’enough.”

“No,” Tommy growled. “I know what I’m doing.”

“It hurts a little,” you mewled, grabbing onto his arm. You tried to pull him out, but you were too weak, and your efforts were futile. “Please.”

“I told you no saying ‘stop’, didn’t I?” He kept rubbing up against that spot, not caring for your protests. “I’m not gonna hurt you, sweetheart. Trust me. You don’t know anything.”

You took in his words. You were overwhelmed, but you knew Tommy was right. He did know better, he always knew better.

Eventually, you could feel another orgasm coming. This time, when you came, Tommy stopped, and watched as the white juice poured out of you. He licked it up, and for a moment you were scared he was going to start all over again, but he just licked the cream off his fingers, and gave you a kiss to the forehead.

You looked down. His cock was hard. You could see it buldging through his pants. After catching your breath, you reached forward to unzip it, but Tommy didn’t let you.

“Why not?” you asked, curious.

“This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

Oh, how Tommy wanted to let you play with it, but it wasn’t right. He couldn’t take advantage of you like that.

He had done his work, and now it was time to leave.

He cleaned you up and got off your bed, only for you to follow him.

“Can we do this again?” you asked desperately. “I like being with you.”

Tommy thought for a moment. It wouldn’t hurt. He could see himself making a habit out of it. He was only concerned about his family, what they would think, and what would happen between you and him if things went wrong.

He wanted you as a lover, but he didn’t want to loose you as his sister either.

“Yeah. When you need it, come to me. No one else, you understand?”

You nodded, smiling excitedly. He felt a little bad. You were so young. You were confusing your sisterly affection for romance, and here he was, using it as an opportunity for his own desires.

“Remember,” Tommy said, his voice low. “Don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t ever,” you promised.

He lingered for a moment, then left the room, creeping back down the stairs to his office, leaving you inside.

It was difficult to get any work done after that. All he could think about was you, and the future of your love. He wasn’t sure what was to come, but all he knew was that he was glad it was with you.

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

@smailaway

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #pinguwrites

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tommyshelbyswh0re · 2 years

Text

maybe i am just not enough- Thomas Shelby

based of the song ‘I’m not the only one’ by sam smith.

summary- you’re engaged to tommy but he still has unfinished business with grace.

warnings- vvvvv angsty. grace

you and tommy have been together for a few years. you live in a beautiful home and everything you ask for, you get. on paper, it seems like you are living the dream however, in reality, everything feels so empty. you met tommy just after grace left for america after they had found out she was a spy. you had just moved to small heath and had seen an ad for a job as a secretary at his betting shop. at first, he was extremely stand offish. you couldn’t seem to do anything without receiving suspicious looks or strange questions. you didn’t understand it until another secretary there had told you all about grace. eventually, he seemed to dial down the glares abit and it lead to small conversations here and there. this lead to longer conversations in restaurants and eventually a proposal. in the beginning of your official relationship, there was no doubt in your mind that tommy loved you. he showed it in any way a man like him could. however, after a year of being together he started to distance himself. it was impossible to understand what was going through your fiancés mind. one day, you walked into his office without knocking and found him staring at an envelope.

“hello sweetheart. what’s this?” you asked him, curiosity deep in your tone.

“a letter” he shrugged.

“well yes i can see that. but why are you staring at it like the second you open it you’ll set on fire” you chuckled.

“because it’s my past. the past is no longer my concern”

“well read it tomorrow, i have a surprise for tonight” you smiled sitting in his lap.

“yeah? and what’s that?” he asked with a smirk.

“i am going to cook us some food, and then you’ll see. so get your arse up and let’s go” you pulled him up by his arms and started dragging him out of his office.

—

the distance only seemed to get more as the days went on. it was 1 week until you’re wedding and you wanted to make sure he really wanted this before you and him were officially married.

“tommy?” you asked him from the couch in his office.

“what?” he grunted

“why are you being so distant?” you decided to just bite the bullet.

“not now y/n” he shook you off and went back to his work.

“i just need to know. the wedding is in a week” you reminded him.

“y/n. i said not now” he warned.

“well then when are we going to have this conversation?” you really needed an answer.

“never” he sharply replied before getting up to get a glass of whiskey.

“thomas” you warned.

“y/n” he deadplanned.

“im not marrying a man that won’t communicate”

“then don’t.” he shot his whiskey back. this made you gasp.

“are you being serious?”

“y/n if you don’t want to marry me then don’t” he looked you in the eye.

“im not the one doubting the wedding, you are” you answered back.

“what the fuck made you think that aye?”

“YOU thomas. you’ve barely looked at me this past week never mind have a conversation with me” you could feel tears welling up but you were not about to cry infront of him. “do you really want to marry me thomas? no riddles, no changing the subject, be honest” you asked him.

“ofcourse i do y/n. it’s just been a stressful week that’s all” his eyes softened and he walked round his deck to give me a hug.

“are you sure? now is your only chance to get out of it without having your suits set on fire” you warned him.

he laughed at that. “im positive” he kissed you. “by the way, i’m heading off to ada’s in london for the evening tomorrow” he told you.

“okay but be safe. can’t be a widow before i’m even married” you hugged him.

—-

it was the day of your wedding and you were anxiously waiting for polly to help you get your dress on.

“oh there you are. thought i had been stood up” you laughed trying to joke.

“y/n sit down” she said with a straight face and sympathetic eyes.

“okay” your furrowed your brows in confusion. “polly what’s going on?”

“we can’t find tommy” she blurted out.

“what do you mean you can’t find tommy? is he okay? i told him not to do any business last night before i left. did something happen?” you asked with concern laced in your voice.

“no it’s uhm- it’s nothing like that. john rang me. he told me that they were having a whiskey before they set off here when tommy just stormed out. they assumed he’d be here but he’s not showed up” she rushed out.

“well you need to send people to find him. god knows what’s happened to him.” you said with your eyes watering.

“we will y/n i promise we will. for now go home and wait for the phone. we will ring you if we find anything” she pulled you in for a hug and kissed your forehead.

—

you were sat at home worried out of your mind. you kept staring at the phone as if it would randomly start ringing. it must of worked because the 147th time you stared, it finally rang. you ran to the phone almost slipping about 6 times.

“hello. what’s happening?” you said out of breath.

“y/n”

“oh thomas thank god. are you alright?”

“i couldn’t do it y/n”

“do what?” you asked.

“marry you.” he whispered. you’re heart split in two.

“that’s okay. we can get married another time i know things have been stress-“

“no y/n. i cant marry YOU.” he sternly said.

“tommy can you just come home and we can talk about it?”you asked him, hoping that whatever you say in person was enough to change his mind.

“yes.”

—

after half an hour of pacing and crying, he walking through the front door. you went to go and hug him but he held his hand in front of him. “don’t y/n. because in about 15 minutes your going to hate me. you’re not even going to be able to look at me” he said shakily, walking towards his office and gesturing you to follow him.

once you were in his office he sat on the couch and you followed suit.

“tommy what’s going on?” you asked him with tears in your eyes.

“i slept with grace” he whispered. you felt like your whole world stopped spinning.

“i love her. she loves me-“

“stop”

“i want to marry her-“

“tommy stop” you warned.

“i couldn’t imagine a life without her-“

“THOMAS STOP JUST STOP” you screamed.

it went dead silent for 3 minutes whilst you were trying to process the information. you felt numb.

“i fucking knew it” you turned to look at him.

“i told you to tell me the truth. i practically begged for the truth. you told me you wanted this” you pleaded.

“i know. i thought i did. when i went to london, i was actually meeting up with her. i had every intention of getting her hopes up and then telling her that i had moved on-that i had found you and that me and you were getting married in 6 days”

“then what changed” you asked him. tears streaming down your face.

“everything. i looked into her eyes and remembered how i always loved her eyes. and then i remembered how much i loved her. so i took her out, had a great time and then slept with her” he put his head down in shame.

“and you couldn’t tell me before i was about to put my dress on. you couldn’t tell me the day after” you shook you’re head at him. “tommy i thought you’d been fucking hurt” you raised your tone.

“what the fuck is wrong with you. you’re a fucking coward” you sobbed.

“y/n-“ he put his hand on your shoulder.

“if you want to keep your hand thomas i highly suggest that you move it” this made him sigh and move his hand instantly. you put your head in your hands.

“what the fuck am i supposed to do. where the fuck am i suppost to live. i sold my fucking house” you hysterically cried into your hands.

“i spoke to pol. she said you can stay with her until you find a job” he replied to you.

“you want me out so quickly. is she moving in?” you took your face away from your hands and looked at him. in reply, he cringed.

“oh my god she is. fucking hell tommy, the sheets are still warm. this was supposed to be our house. we were supposed to have children here and redecorate” you humourlessly laughed.

“im sorry y/n” he looked sincere.

“no you’re not. if you were you would have told me the day you came home instead of pretending that all was fine. you would not have let me embarrass myself by entering that church knowing you had no intention of waiting for me at the end of the isle. and you most certainly would not have kicked me out to let her move in” you shook your head in disbelief. “this is ridiculous. un-fucking-believable” you whispered under your breath before turning to look at him.

“there’s nothing i can do to make you want me more than her is there?” you looked into his eyes.

he hesitantly shook his head. “no” he whispered.

“maybe i’m just not enough” you let a tear pour down your face.

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