#peaky blinders reader insert

[all-mirth-no-matter]

Time After Time | Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You suffer through the repercussions of Christmas morning, a new year begins, and Polly provides some interesting insight.

Warning: language, smoking, ethnic slur, yelling

ao3 link | catch up on tumblr here

Chapter 12: Nobody Knows

So help me find my way, the way I came from. ‘Cause I’m feeling lost and afraid, you better not be too far gone. Oh, have I been so wrong? Missed the song? Still I don’t know where I belong. No I don’t know. Because no one really knows me, at all.  — Nobody Knows, Autograft, WYNNE

You ran through the garden toward the temple, sure the sacred grounds would bring you some solace. “You betrayed me!” You shouted behind you, tears pouring down your face. 

Closing your eyes, you once again saw the shower of arrows fall from the sky, then a plague of sickness run through your lands. You saw death on the sands of your beaches, fires raging through the cities. You felt the whips and thrashes of pain across your body, the screams surrounding you until you fell to the floor with your hands over your ears. 

“Cassandra.” The beautiful voice of your love boomed from behind you. On your knees, you opened your eyes and you were back in your palace, the peaceful night continuing as it had before. You turned, peering up at the figure, the moonlight illuminating his features.

Weak, your voice came out in a whisper. “What did you do to me?” 

He smiled. “I blessed you with a gift of my own rarity.”

You shook your head, the tears still falling down your cheeks until you could taste the salt. “I’ve seen your arrows — how could you?”

“Cassandra—“

“Back!” You voice stronger now as your fear fueled your adrenaline. “I didn’t want this! How could you do this to me?” 

He reached out to you, “Our future is together—“

A sob left your lungs as the images wouldn’t stop from behind your eyes. “All I see is destruction. Demise. Death. How could I love someone who allows such things to happen?” 

Patience turned into anger. Your god stood to his full height as the rage froze his eyes. “If you don’t want our future together, then you’ll have no future at all. I curse you, Cassandra!”

——

“You in there love?” 

You gasped awake, eyes searching around you as you tried to determine where exactly you were. Slowly, your brain began to recognize your surroundings. 

Tommy’s room felt different than it had before. You looked down at the bed, evidence in the tussled sheets of where you’d finally fallen asleep — but the bed and room was otherwise empty. 

A soft tapping brought you back, the door opening slowly as Polly poked her head in. 

“They’ve just gotten back,” she said, taking in your obviously confused expression as you finally sat up on the bed fully. 

You looked to see the open bottle on the nightstand accompanied by two empty glasses and the cigarette case you’d given him. That’s when you began to recall the events of the night. 

“I need you,” Tommy had whispered with his forehead pressed against yours, your legs in his lap as he held you against him. 

For a moment your brain tried to determine how exactly he meant that — was it business, pleasure, or something more. The way his lips pushed against yours swept the thought away, and an involuntary “I’m yours” came out as a breathy reply. 

His grip tightened in response, soft touches turned needy as your fingers worked on the buttons of his vest, his on your dress. You were in just your slip, him in his trousers, when you fell to your back against the mattress, pulling his body with you. 

“Tommy!” A shout from the other side of the door accompanied by an urgent knock caused you both to gasp away from each other. “We got trouble!”

Tommy jumped off the bed as your head fell back against the pillow, a huff leaving your lungs. “This has to be a cosmic joke at this point, I swear—“ 

He hushed you as he grabbed his gun from the holster on the hook before cracking open the door. 

“It’s Russel. We’ve been fuckin’ had,” you could hear Arthur from the other side of the door, Tommy standing in the way of the crack to keep you hidden, though you were sure his disheveled state was evident. “Put ‘our cock away and get dressed.” 

Tommy shut the door, running his hand through his hair as he turned back toward you, already offering him his discarded shirt. “Fuck,” he swore, pulling you into him for another searing kiss before he finally pushed away and took the shirt. You smirked as you watched the material cover the red smear from your lipstick on his neck and collarbone, internally groaning that he had to leave now, just when things were finally getting somewhere. 

You shook your head, trying to get it out of your vagina and back into the realities that something bad must be happening. 

“I was worried this would happen,” Tommy muttered as he pulled his shoes on. “Fuckin’ coppers.”

Standing up, you reached for your dress that’d pooled on the floor next to your shoes. 

“What are you doing?”

Your brow creased, “Getting dressed, I should go home—” 

“No,” he cut you off, grabbing the dress from your hands and throwing it over the arm of the chair. “I’ll walk you home when I get back, but you’re safer here.” 

“You think I’m in danger?” This copper wouldn’t know your involvement in the situation, you couldn’t reason why tonight would be any less safe than any other night you’d walked home from the Garrison. 

“Don’t know, but I’ll think straighter knowin’ you’re here with Pol and the family than out there,” he answered, securing his shoulder holster and checking the round of his revolver. “Sleep,” he added as he threw on his jacket. “I’ll wake you up when I get back.” 

And with that, he left. You’d tried to stay awake as long as you could, your neediness for him slowly turning into worry the later it got. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep. 

Finally catching up to what Polly had said, you looked out the window to fully recognize the beginnings of sunlight. “They just got back?” 

“Aye, they’re in the kitchen. They’re alright, just beat a bit.” 

Your eyes widened at her words, prompting you to scramble out from the covers and hustle toward the door. 

“Oi, get dressed first!” she snapped, stopping you as she gestured toward your discarded dress still on the chair. “You go down there in this slip of a thing and you’ll give ‘em all heart attacks. There,” she added, helping you finish the buttons and manage your hair. 

She turned back toward the door and reached for the handle. You took a step, ready to follow her, but stopped when she paused before turning the knob. Your brow furrowed as she turned back toward you, her eyes doing a quick scan of your face. 

Suddenly worried that the situation was more dire than she’d let on, your heart began to race faster. “What are you—“

“You care for him, truly?” she asked you, this time her eyes not leaving yours as she waited for your reply.

You opened your mouth to answer, but closed it when your throat felt suddenly thick, and you swallowed instead. 

“I pity you then,” she said when you didn’t answer, then turned back toward the door. “Come on, now. Let’s go figure out what the bloody hell happened.” 

Polly lead down the stairs, your brain ping ponging between what state Tommy and his brothers might be in after being out the whole night, and why the older woman would pity you. 

Your over analysis came to a halt when you both finally breached the kitchen doorway, your eyes immediately finding Tommy. 

The first thing you noticed was the bright red splattering against his white collar and shirt. You followed the trail from his neck to his collarbone, bright red blood replacing where your dark red lipstick had been just a few hours before. Swallowing, you examined the rest of him — his knuckles were beaten, the sleeves of his shirt a mixture of smeared blood and dirt stains. But other than a deep cut on the hood of his cheek bone and the early signs of bruising along the jaw, he seemed to be okay. 

You let out a relieved breath as your eyes finally met with his, knowing he’d been watching you as you took him in. The white of his eyes were red, causing his usual brilliant blues to appear icier than ever. They were wild, feral even, like nothing you’d yet seen. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Ada!” Arthur shouted, causing you to finally break your stare and address the room fully. 

“Shut up, you’ll make it bleed again!” Ada shouted back, shoving a soaked cloth to the piece of Arthur’s lip that was split pretty badly. 

Next to them, John held another cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding, a similar sign of a bruise against the edge of his eye that’d birth a nasty shinner by the end of the day. 

“What the bloody hell happened?” Polly asked, throwing Tommy a wet cloth as he began to clean off his knuckles. 

“Russel was sellin’ information to the sloggers in Digbeth,” Tommy replied, throwing the cloth aside and reaching for the box of cigarettes in the middle of the table. 

“Fuckin’ double dealin’ on the both of us,” Arthur added, hissing when his lip began to bleed again. Ada smacked his arm and pushed the cloth against him. 

Tommy took a long drag, “They found out first, tried to use him to lure us into a trap. When our men went after him last night, they were waitin’.” 

“Any dead?” Polly asked, starting the kettle — acting as if she’d asked a perfectly normal question. 

“Not any of ours,” John answered proudly. “They held ‘em off ‘til we got there.” 

“Got a few ‘fore the rest went runnin’ with their cocks ‘tween their legs—“

“Shut up, Arthur!” Ada shouted when his lip began to bleed again. 

Polly handed you a cup and you realized you hadn’t moved, still standing just on the perimeter of the kitchen. Tommy was still watching you as the family talked. 

“And Russel?” Polly asked, pulling out one of the family books. 

“Dead,” John answered, “Charlie already took care of him and the others. Left some of the boys to man the territory ‘til we can clean ‘em out for good.” 

“We’ll need lodgings for our men in the area to establish a stronghold. And you’ll need to get to the other coppers on our payroll,” Polly added, scribbling in the book. 

The conversation faded into the background as you met Tommy’s eyes again. Expecting the wildness of when you first walked in, you were surprised to see his expression softer now. You’d always been so good at reading people, but Tommy had been an enigma to you since the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He stood, and the motion snapped your brain back to the company of the room. “Come on,” he said, walking toward you and reaching for your back, only to clasp his hand and pull it back to himself. His jaw clenched as he instead moved toward the door, “I’ll walk you home.” 

You looked around, everyone sort of half watching as you and Tommy left the room. You hadn’t said a word since you left Tommy’s bedroom, and truthfully you’d have no clue what to say anyway. 

Your mind was still trying to come up with something when you and your escort made it to your apartment, faster than you expected. Because it was still so early, the streets were as quiet and bare as they’d ever be. You were about to invite Tommy up to your apartment, not ready for your time together to end, when he finally spoke up, cigarette still between his teeth. 

“Best to stay away from the shop for a while. Polly or Ada can bring you the books to audit here.”

Your brow furrowed as you crossed your arms. “Why?”

He took a puff before pulling the stick from his lips, his eyes looking everywhere but to you. “Because I say.”

“Tommy—“

“Because I fuckin’ say, alright?” Tommy’s eyes snapped to yours, the harsh tone in his voice forcing your back to straighten. “I pay you for a job and you’re gonna fuckin’ do it the way I tell ya, eh?”

The verbal assault had you stunned, but you quickly recognized his words for what they truly were. He was speaking to you the same as he had in the wagon knowing it’d upset you, but this time there was no sign of an apology, or something vaguely adjacent. He was purposely pushing you away, and the thought turned your confusion into anger. 

Where had the vulnerable man who’d held you not more than five hours ago gone?

Throwing his cigarette butt to the ground, Tommy turned to leave. 

“What the hell happened to you last night?” you asked softly, mostly to yourself. 

He rounded back on you, his eyes wild once again as he raised his voice. “This is me, Y/N! This is who I fuckin’ am. Now you’ve seen me, and you’ll stay away when I tell ya to.”

Your mouth snapped shut as you held eye contact for a moment longer, despite the burn you felt behind your own. His turned from wild, to remorseful, to cold once more before he turned to leave again, this time not looking back. 

Now you’ve seen me, you repeated his words in your head as you watched him walk down the lane. He thought you disapproved, or you were disgusted, with the surlier side of the Shelby business. 

Was he wrong? 

It wasn’t like you were sensitive or anything to violence. With the way it was woven into most forms of entertainment in your day, it was hard to avoid — whether it was in video games, tv shows, movies, or even sports, you were no stranger to both real and fake injuries. But there was something different about seeing the Shelby brothers in person all cut, bruised, and bloody, knowing how they’d gotten that way that made you realize how different this was from anything you’d been exposed to before. 

And honestly, you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Of course part of you was scared, for both yourself and the people you’d come to care for here. Meanwhile, the other part of you tried to rationalize that this was the way of the world, or at least the Shelby’s world. You’d learned a long time ago that the world wasn’t black and white — that there were shades of grey that were circumstantial and layered in intent and values and point of views. 

While you didn’t know yet the full backstory of how the Shelbys came to be where they were now, the little information you did know painted an understanding that part of the circumstances with Tommy was grounded in some way with survival against poverty, racism, classism. There was a road the Shelbys had traveled to get where they were now, and you knew that part of it was paved in violence. 

You watched as Tommy finally disappeared from sight, swallowing thickly as you retreated with a shaky hand into the building. 

——

The next week went by quietly. You’d followed Tommy’s instructions of not coming by the shop, throwing yourself instead into the pub. You found yourself reverting back to the habits you’d made prior to meeting Tommy — though this time you had one more thing to obsessively overthink about during the quieter parts of the day. 

Luckily, the pub was busier than ever. Factory worker strikes were growing more rampant, and a common group seemed to find base in the Garrison booths right after the whistles blew. After a few days, you overheard one of the men call another “Freddie” and turned in time to see the greeting and identity of Ada’s mystery man and Tommy’s former best friend. 

You didn’t let yourself linger, not yet sure what information Ada had told him about you, so you continued on with your business as usual. But you still allowed yourself a few stolen glances and discrete eavesdropping out of pure curiosity. 

Aside from that, the holidays also played a role in the Garrison’s popularity as you geared up for New Years Eve, a night Harry anticipated would be three-times busier than it had the year previously. 

The work was good though — not only did it keep your mind busy, but it kept your body tired, which made sleep come easier. That, and the fact that your dreams seemed to stop — something you didn’t necessarily notice right away. 

And yet, even with all your work and distractions, you still found yourself every night expecting to see Tommy walk through the pub doors. 

New Years Eve night was the first instance where you caught a glimpse of any Shelby family member since Christmas morning. The crowd was so thick both you and Harry found yourselves working behind the bar. You heard rather than saw Arthur barrel through the door, shouting something about needing a drink to wash away the shit show of a year. You tried to listen closely to the voices to see who was with him, but the crowd volume was too overwhelming to zero in on. Harry had jumped at serving the snug himself, none the wiser to your inner turmoil. 

You were trying really hard not to act as pathetic as you felt when a body pushed through the wall of people against the bar. For a moment your heart leapt, thinking it was Tommy, but deflated when they fully turned to face you. 

“Hey beautiful,” Benji greeted, wide smile on his face as he leaned against the counter. 

“Harry’s already over there to serve you boys,” you answered, giving him the server-smile you’d been dawning all night and gestured toward the snug in between pouring glasses and trying to retain shouts of orders from the others at the bar competing for your attention. 

He shook his head, “I just wanted to come say hi. Busy night, huh?” 

The poor boy was trying to small talk while you were running back and forth behind the bar. You swallowed your annoyance with a mirthless laugh and shrugged your shoulders, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

He laughed, and you were sure he was saying something else, but the sound of John’s laugh through the snug window caused your attention to shift. You glanced in time for Harry to move out of the way of the window, eyes landing on Tommy, who was sitting between his brothers with a set of cards in his hands. When his eyes shifted, possibly to look through the window himself, you turned back toward the crowd of people. You didn’t want him to catch you staring at him, your pride still wounded from your last encounter. 

Benji’s voice calling your name brought your attention back, nearly forgetting he’d been there. “Did you hear me?” 

“Um, no, sorry Benji,” you apologized while waving an acknowledgment to the man who shouted for rum on the other end of the bar top. 

He chuckled, “I’ll try again when the crowd lessens.” 

Doubt that, you said to yourself as Harry fell back behind the bar with you. You chanced a glance toward the window, but the door was properly closed now, causing you to both sigh in relief and disappointment. 

The night ended with the crowd shouting with the sound of the church bells signaling midnight and the beginnings of the new year. Last call came an hour after that. Without you realizing, the Shelby and Peaky Boys had slipped out of the pub some time before closing, and you felt your heart break pathetically at the realization. 

Not that you had any expectations, but you’d come to enjoy the feeling of being a part of something recently. And to not even get a hello from any of them made you feel even lonelier than ever. 

Well, not counting Benji. Who also hadn’t come back like he said he would. 

And now you were officially living in the year 1919. For a brief moment when the realization hit you while cleaning up for the night, you nearly expected something monumental to happen space-time-continuum-wise. 

But the rest of the week went by just the same as it had before New Years. You were five days into the new year when you got to talk to your first Shelby since Christmas. 

Ada arrived at your front door Sunday morning with two company books concealed discreetly in a bag. You didn’t bother asking how she knew it was your day off and instead embraced her warmly. 

“Tommy said to not let you and the book out of my sight, but d’ya mind if I sneak out here to see Freddie while you work?” 

Your brow creased at her question, slightly surprised at the vote of no confidence from Tommy — as if you needed a chaperone to do the job you’d been doing for months now. “Oh, uh, no, that’s fine. I finally saw him at the pub last week, been meaning to tell you.” 

Ada’s eyes widened as she grinned, pulling you to sit with her on your bed. “What’d you think? You didn’t say anything, did you?” 

���Of course not, I didn’t even talk to him. Just overheard him in a booth with some other guys. He seemed nice though.” 

“He is,” she sighed, almost dreamily, and you shook your head at your friend despite the smile on your own face. “I just wish he and Tommy weren’t still at odds. He still won’t even tell me what they fell off about.” 

You hummed in consideration, “Would them being close again make it easier for Tommy to accept you being together?” 

Ada shrugged, “Dunno. Possibly.”  

“Well, don’t waste any more valuable time with me,” you gave her a friendly shove off the bed, causing her to smile again. 

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a few hours!”

After she left, you settled at your small dining table and dove in. 

The books were telling. The holidays seemed to be a very good time for the betting shop, which made sense you supposed with people trying their luck to make as much money as they could before the year end. 

The family books, however, were even more telling. New contacts had made an appearance, both as payers and payees, most of which seemed to be located in Digbeth. By the books, it seemed the Peaky Blinders had officially expanded into the new territory and there was no sign of slowing down. 

You finished the audit just as Ada returned, leaving again promptly and promising to see you later. 

——

Another week went by, the pub crowd slightly smaller but still lively enough to keep you busy. Benji showed up again about half way through the week. 

“I was hopin’ to take you to dinner sometime,” he finally said once you served him his drink. 

You blinked, “Like, a date?”

Immediately you panicked — did people use the word date nowadays? It was the boyfriend conundrum all over again and you were kicking yourself for not having learned more about historical slang or word use. 

Benji didn’t seem bothered by your use of phrase, instead shrugging. “Or we can go see a new picture.”

“Oh—”

“Or both,” he said with a chuckle and friendly smile. “What’ya say?”

“Um, I’m— I’m not sure,” you found yourself answering, surprising yourself. 

Since your first meeting with Benji, you thought you’d be in this position at some point, and at the time knew firmly that you’d have to kindly turn him down or express your disinterest in anything romantic with this guy. 

But now, you found yourself reconsidering. Benji hadn’t been anything but nice and friendly to you since meeting. Sure, the conversations had been flat, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault — you hadn’t really given him much to work with due to your own reservations. 

And maybe you’d been too quick to judge with the whole stealing from the company thing. The optimistic (and pathetically lonely) part of you could convince yourself that his math really had just improved over the months, and he didn’t actually have any nefarious intent. 

It didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome. You were surprised he didn’t have someone already. 

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually agree to go out with him nor turn him down completely. “It’s just I’ve — I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

Benji nodded, still offering you a smile as he set down a coin for his drink. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah,” you said noncommittally, finally giving him a genuine smile of appreciation. 

He smiled back before leaving, giving you a wave as he walked out the door. 

At his absence, you found yourself feeling guilty, thinking of what Tommy would think if he found out you were going on a date. 

You shook your head — to hell with what Tommy thought. You couldn’t keep up with what may or may not have been going on between the two of you. 

It was astonishing when you realized exactly how little time you and Tommy had actually spent together. The time span between that first night at the Garrison and Christmas morning accounted for less than five days. And yet within that time, you’d made out with the man four times and nearly slept with him twice. You felt more connected with him than you’d ever felt with anyone before. And not to mention you’d been tempted to tell him your big secret — hell, Christmas Eve night you’d basically shared the majority of it, just without the time travel aspect. 

All that to say that the total time you’d spent with the man had been tiny in relation to the bigger picture, and yet you could not get him out of your mind. The longer you went without seeing him, the heavier your heart grew and the antsier you became. 

What the hell was the matter with you anyway? The last time you’d been this strung out over a guy had been in high school when your hormones were running rampant and you had absolutely no self-awareness or all the finely honed self-respect you’d built up over the last decade. You weren’t a teenager — you were too old for these flighty and fruitless games. If the man didn’t want to be with you, (or if all he’d wanted was to sleep with you) he should just tell you. 

And now he’d all but banned you from his presence it felt, and your feelings of hurt had officially transitioned into anger. 

Why the hell shouldn’t you go on a date? If you were going to be stuck here, why not have a little fun?

“Benji?” You called, just as the door was starting to close. It opened, and he popped his head back into the pub, his brow up in question. “Dinner might be nice. How’s next week?”

 ——

That Sunday, you were surprised to see it was Polly at your doorstep with the books.

“Morning, love.” She greeted you, shoving the two books into your chest as she walked past you into your apartment. She took a seat at your dining table and began to take off her gloves with a huff, “Ada’s run off again, leaving the book transport to me. Not sure why I’ve got to stay here with you the whole bloody time, but when Thomas insists—“ 

“Did I do something, Polly?” You asked finally, unable to hold it in any longer as you sat down across from her and set the books on the table top. “It’s like Tommy doesn’t trust me anymore.” 

Polly shook her head. “It’s just been chaos with the Digbeth move, that’s all. Half our men are split, leaving the betting shop more vulnerable than we’d all like. It’s nothing you did. Got any tea?” 

Her words were encouraging, but the way she dodged her eyes and reached for her paper half way through still gave you that unsettled feeling. She lifted the paper to begin reading, a silent end to your conversation. Taking the hint, you silently poured you both some tea and began your work. 

But the back of your mind still churned as you went through the monotonous steps of math and pattern checking. Despite Polly’s reasoning, you still felt like you were being punished for something. You felt a level of guilt beneath your mountain of other emotions because despite all the secrets you had shared with Tommy, there was a pretty big one that you still hadn’t shared. Perhaps he’d finally grown tired of waiting, or had officially decided against trusting you after all. 

You physically shook your head as you moved on to the second book, shaking the thought away before you tailspun into a hole that you weren’t prepared to dig yourself out of while company was here. 

The thought made you look up at Polly for a moment, who was still reading through her newspaper meticulously. 

“Polly, can I ask you something?” 

She didn’t look up from her newspaper, “If it’s about Thomas, I can’t help you. That boy’s as unpredictable as ever nowadays.”

“It’s not that. It’s—“ you hesitated, unsure exactly how to approach the situation. Polly lowered her paper and rose an eyebrow. “You told Tommy you thought I was born gypsy.”

She folded up her paper and set it on the table. “I did.” 

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?” 

“It wasn’t my place.”

Your brow creased, “But you told Tommy.”

“I made a calculated decision at the time.”

You hummed, nodding as you looked down, then back up. “I’m not related to the Delphi,” you said tentatively, watching her face as you went on. “At least I don’t think so. To be honest, I’m not even positive if I have any Romani blood in me. I don’t really know anything, still.”

Polly didn’t respond, instead sat there in silence as she waited for you to continue. 

“You told Tommy that I had a gift. All because of my tattoo and because I guessed the date of the end of the war—“ 

“That’s not the only reasons,” Polly added, your eyes shooting up to meet hers. “I read your leaves.” 

Your brow creased, “My, what?” 

She nodded to the cup in front of you. “Your tea leaves. It’s always been one of my gifts to read tea leaves.”

“Perhaps you should talk to Pol,” Tommy’s voice from the other night triggered your memory. “She’s always been more in tune with that side of things, she could offer you some guidance.” 

Your eyes drifted to the nightstand, where you knew the small box Madam Despoina had given you was buried beneath your clothes in the drawer. You hadn’t touched it since you put it there, but the square lump was the first things your eyes snapped to whenever you opened the drawer. 

“Wait, isn’t there like an official process to reading leaves?” You countered. Teas and tarot cards were some of the maneuvers your mother had tried to learn herself — but of course when she couldn’t come up with the outcomes she’d wanted, she’d go out and pay ‘experts’ to do her readings for her. Still, she never found what she was looking for. 

The years of built up distrust for anything divination relation was causing you to tense at the conversation, but you forced yourself to really listen to Polly. 

“You always swirl your tea before you finish it, haven’t you noticed?” 

You hadn’t — but now that you thought about it, you realized that you did. You hated the taste of the grains of leaves at the end of your cups, so you always absentmindedly swirled to try and get them to stick to the edges. 

“What did you see?”

Polly began to explain a few of her early readings, how every sign pointed to heavy seer powers and a deep concentration to the far future, though something was always just off about every reading. “They began to change after the war ended, once you’d met Thomas. His changed too.” 

You swallowed. “Tommy didn’t mention that.” 

“I didn’t tell him.” 

You asked why. 

She chuckled, “It wouldn’t have meant anything to him. He doesn’t believe anymore. Deep down he might, but not enough to have convinced him to let you continue working for the company. That your time with us, with him, weren’t over yet.” 

Despite yourself, you scoffed, “You sound like Madam Despoina.” 

Polly smirked. “Did you find what you were looking for with the Delphi?”

“Sort of,” your eyes moved down to your hands. “Madam Despoina believes that speaking to my mother will help.” 

“I thought your family—“

“Dead,” you answered. “Yeah. She gave me something she said can help me talk to her one last time. I haven’t — I can’t bring myself to do it.” 

Polly hummed as she sat back in her seat. “We do believe that those who have left us can visit. Some have the gift to see them, even speak to them. But it can be dangerous. Once you let the spirits in, any spirits, it can be difficult to get rid of them.” 

You nodded, taking her words to heart as you absorbed the information. “I— I’m not a fortune teller. But I do have some knowledge of the future. It’s— it’s complicated.” 

Polly’s chin and brow rose. “Have you told Thomas?”

“Yes. Everything that I can tell.” 

Polly nodded. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, love.” 

You took a deep breath. “Then what’s with the freeze out?”

“It’s his way of protecting you, I assume.” Polly picked up her paper again. “You did react quite poorly Christmas morning — and the boys weren’t even that banged up. Still surprised none of them were shot. You’re going to need tougher skin if you choose to continue with this life. And I wasn’t lying before, the boys have been nonstop since the holidays. Poor Martha can hardly handle it.” 

She lifted the paper between the two of you and you took the signal again to mean the conversation had ended. 

You ended the final book audit having only run through what Polly had said twice. She rose to leave and collected her things. You were curious if she was going to grab your cup, but didn’t give it another glance as she walked toward the door. 

She turned, “Part of tougher skin means defying Tommy’s orders every now and then. It’ll be just Martha and I tomorrow at the house with the kids. We miss you.” 

With that, she gave you a pointed rise of her brow and left. 

You smiled as the door closed, feeling rejuvenated. Fuck Tommy and his orders, you thought, lifting your chin up the same way Polly had. You had your pride, you had your own agency, and you could go visit your friends if you damn well wanted to. Two and a half weeks had been enough of a freeze out, you decided. 

Tomorrow, you’d go back to the Shelby household. And if he showed up, you’d confront Tommy and tell him exactly how you felt. 

>> next chapter

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#Peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby reader insert #Peaky blinders reader insert #Peaky blinders imagines #tommy shelby imagines #Thomas shelby imagines #Thomas shelby reader insert #Peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby x oc #cillian murphy #fanfiction #mine #time after time

[pacifymebby]

You’re imagines are so good! Love the character accuracy. Imagine the peaky blinders boys having a s/o who is super into self care, and wants to pamper them as well. Like skin care, body/scalp massages, baths, etc.

This is so cute i love it, i did it as kind of modern au centered because i feel like self care is probably way more varied now than it used to be?

Tommy

🌿I feel like he looks after himself and isn't going to be as opposed to this as you might expect a bloody-minded toxic masculinity gangster to be.

🌿Especially not the candlelit baths, the back rubs and anything else which involves close physical contact with you...

🌿Both 20s Tommy and Modern! Tommy are very serious men, their brain is always set in overdrive, his thoughts buzzing and whirring like a broken machine at all hours. He never switches off and you worry about him.

🌿"Ain't good for you Tommy, you're always lost inside your own head... Driving yourself crazy, you need to switch off every now and then... Let me help you..."

🌿 You know exactly the tone to take to get him to leave his work and come to you, oh so slightly suggestive, tempting... And when it comes to you Tommy doesnt have much resistance...

🌿You probably have a really fancy bathroom with a sunken in tub, jacuzzi jets and all, which Tommy had built for you but which you always intended on sharing with him. I'm picturing this but with more house plants, more candles...

🌿 You put his favourite record on and soak in the tub with him, he holds you in his lap, definitely tries to take the vibe somewhere else

🌿But you are determined that this is going to be more than just a steamy afternoon of shower sex... You promised to help him relax and you're going to.

🌿 "Oh angel no... I don't need that..." he says when you present him with a facemask, its a sheet mask and he just looks at you all "we look like something out of a horror movie y/n" "yes but its going to make your skin feel heavenly..." "already heavenly love..." he smirks making you smile a little embarassed. "Well yeah, I mean you are..." you start but he just shakes his head, "was talking about you angel..."

🌿Tommys been through a lot and has a lot of pent up stress stored in his muscles, he doesn't realise quite how much trauma he's holding in his body until he starts to relax, and when he realises everything he's carrying with me, all these emotions he shuts out to survive, he panics a bit... He can't let himself unwind completely or he's sure he'll fall apart.

🌿So he tries to make up excuses to cut short your pamper session, standing up to get out of the bath, taking his face mask off with some excuse about having an important call that needs to be made...

🌿You're not stupid though, you know what he's doing and so with one puppy dog eye look at him, you beg him to stay just a little longer. And he can't say no to you when you look at him like that so he returns to you.

🌿You wash his hair and massage his head, you tell him to close his eyes and you treat him so delicately. He's never felt this kind of care before, this good goosebump feeling, the hairs on his neck standing on end at the slightest touch from you. He loves it.

🌿You give him a little face massage too, telling him to close his eyes, sitting in his lap and very gently, delicately massaging his temples, his cheeks and jaw. He didn't even know you could carry tension in your face like that but your touch is magic. And when you finsih it with a kiss pressed to his lips he pulls you in for a deeper one.

🌿 Tommy also likes to live the life of luxury, he always aspired to reach the levels of those higher social classes, he always wanted what they have and so when you beg him to go on a spa week with you he obliges. Its one of those things the rich do after all.

🌿He gets a taste for massages and takes you on many spa weekends. If he has a particularly troubling problem he needs to mull over he will often lie on his back in the sauna and think things through.

🌿Loves an ice bath/plunge pool because he's a fucking sociopath.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has never had someone try to take care of him like this, he's not really used to having people take care of him at all but this is even more unfamiliar... As far as Alfie is concerned "self-care" is just "womans stuff ain't it"

🐻 "Well no Alf its not really, anyone can do it and well yknow... Youre always spoilin me aren't you," "rotten zieskiet, absolutely rotten," "well yeah, exactly... I wanna make it up to you, wanna look after you for once..."

🐻 He will argue, "But you see my little zieskiet thats just not how this works yeah, you and me yeah... You're my little girl ain't you," "yeah but..." "right, exactly right, you're my little girl and there ain't no buts about it zieskiet, I take care of you.. You don't want for anythin... You don't need to look after me, I do that myself right..."

🐻 "But Alfie," you whine fixing him with a pout and the most irresistible puppy eyes, "I want to look after you..."

🐻 So he lets you do it to make you happy... Of course he grumbles about it anyway, even if he's enjoying it. He can't drop his grumpy old man act now...

🐻 He lets you run him a hot bath, let's you use your essential oils, lets you wash his hair and condition his beard... On the condition that whilst you wash him you sing for him, something nice and sweet and low. When you're singing for him thats when he really lets himself relax, closing his eyes and feeling the heat from the water soak into him.

🐻He finds that he's able to relax and enjoy it but he can't actually admit to that, he rolls his eyes, tells you he's only doing it so that you'll stop hastling him about it, only doing it because it makes you happy...

🐻 But he secretly loves when you climb into the bath with him and massage his sore muscles, he loves feeling you comb your fingers through his beard and his hair.

🐻 Will not let you put a facemask on him, uses his beard as an excuse, also tells you he's got really senstive skin which is definitely another excuse... Five minutes ago he was pretending he didn't know what a skincare routine was, so how on earth he'd know whether he had sensitive skin or not you don't know...

🐻 You definitely teach this man the power and divine pleasure that is ✨moisturising✨ he gets dry skin and it gets worse when he's stressed so you teach him all about how to wash his face and how to moisturise properly, you make him promise he'll follow his routine every day, "happy skin means happy everything else..." you tell him and he just rolls his eyes and chunters away.

🐻 He will always insist you join him in the bath, he'll tell you he can't possibly relax if his little zieskiet isn't close by.

🐻 I feel like a lot of your self care tricks would be really good for his sciatica as well, relaxing when thats playing up, letting you take care of him. It's what he needs but it all has to be done under the pretence that its to make you happy and that hes the one looking after you.

🐻 At first he is definitely a little wary of letting you see him naked in a non sexual way, in a way where he is the vulnerable one and you're really paying attention to him... When you're not having sex being naked together makes him a little self concious, he thinks a massage will draw attention to his injuries ans scars, is worried you'll see him for the broken/breaking down man he really is

🐻 You tracing the ridges and lines of his scars, kissing them lightly when you're massaging him. Nuzzling into his neck and kissing him as your fingers trail the marbled scarring on his waist and his shoulder.

🐻 Theres one element of self care that Alfie really can get behind and thats meditation. He really enjoys sitting peacefully, letting his mind calm and settle, letting his thoughts wash over and away one by one. He believes it enhances his intelligence and insight, believes that by calming his mind he's making himself sharper.

🐻 He loves a hot stone bed more than he cares to admit but when his back is playing up lying on one of those feeling the heat relax his body slowly, its so soothing... He'll never go to a spa alone however, he always takes you as an excuse to be there.

Arthur

🍂 "You fuckin what? You're gonna make me feel better with some nice smells?"

🍂 Will not let you put "mud" on his face. "Darlin that's just fuckin wrong int it... Fuckin mud on your face? Like mud... From the ground..."

🍂 Arthur is completely baffled by the whole thing and honestly a little bit scared. It all just sounds like "girl stuff" stuff that his mates would take the everloving piss out of him if he admitted to trying it.

🍂 But you know Arthur, he might have that tough guy exterior, might come across as harsh and angry and well, rough... But underneath it he's hiding a delicate side, a side that you know would benefit from just a little self care.

🍂 You have to trick him into it, set some kind of trap because he won't conciously go near anything ylang ylang scented.

🍂 Is genuinely petrified of the shop Lush, crosses the street so he doesn't even have to walk past the front door. He's scared one of the shop assistants will lure him in with a polite hello and then drag him inside kicking and screaming, smothering him in all sorts of oils and bath shite. Once when you were just dropping in to buy a facemask he caught your hand and very very seriously told you to "be careful in there love, don't let anyone grab you" he even shuddered/had a nervous twitch as he watched you go in.

🍂 He doesn't know how to be taken care of, as the eldest son its always been his responsibility to take care of everyone else, he hasn't really been shown much love or care from many people. Most people are terrified of him, his brother who he should be closest to doesn't let him talk about feelings, and he's too embarassed about admiting "failure" to go to his aunt or anyone else for comfort.

🍂 From the first time you spoke to him you've been determined to show him that care. You looked at him, his nervous eyes, that lack of self confidence he was doing so well to hide, and you just thought "this is a man who needs a hot bath and a really good head massage"

🍂 But Arthur is so awkward and standoffish whenever you try to look after him. He hates it if you're "soft" on him because he thinks its imasculating and patronising. He finds it all so embarrassing and he'll go the most adorable shade of bright red whenever you so much as kiss his cheek.

🍂 The first time you suggest a nice candlelit bath he gets interested but thats because baths are literally just for fucking as far as he's concerned and he's dissapointed to realise that you have something else in mind.

🍂 Lots of protests, "y/n come on now we don't have to do this... This is just... I don't need to relax i am relaxed..." "Arthur you haven't been relaxed since your umbilical cord got cut..."

🍂 But once you're alone together in that bath he finally begins to relax. You tell him to close his eyes and at first he refuses or asks why. "Cause its better for relaxing..." "You're gonna do somet to me aren't you... Gonna use one of them fuckin mud potions..." "Promise I'm not..." you try to take his anxiety seriously but "mud potions" is a difficult thing not to laugh at.

🍂 He does his best to relax though and grows to love the feeling of your fingers in his hair, it really does feel like a weight being lifted.

🍂 His favourite thing is to close his eyes and lie back against your chest, the skin on skin contact, the steam and warm water doing wonders to slow his racing mind right down.

🍂 You give him hand massages a lot and he really likes learning how to give them to you too. You teach him where your pressure points are and he concentrates really hard on learning exactly how to take care of you too.

🍂 And sometimes when you're in the bath together you let your hand travel a little lower than usual, you let his idea of bath time win out.

🍂 You take him to a spa and he's so unnerved, he's worried he'll be recognised by someone and his reputation of being a ferocious gangster will be ruined. But he does like the sauna, trouble is it puts him in the mood for fucking...

🍂 Doesnt like a steam room, he feels too vulnerable in there because its dark and steamy and he gets claustrophobic not being able to see so well. If you go into the steam room he will stand guard outside so that nothing bad can happen to you in there.

🍂 You teach him lots of different breathing exercises and try to get him into stretching. They're such effective ways of relieveing tension and you know they'd do him the world of good. But he's not very flexible and he just grumbles. He is however astounded by how bendy you are and will often ask you to show him certain poses just so he can get a good look at you.

🍂 He does try to remember the breathing exercises and they do actually really help him with his ptsd.

John

🌼 I feel like John would be down for doing facemasks with you, you painting his face with some ugly green clay mask, him painting yours with a glittery gold one, taking silly selfies with you.

🌼 He definitely strikes me as a "splashes face with cold water and dries it on an old tshirt" kind of skin care routine boy but you're determined to change his primitive ways.

🌼 He also definitely loves a spa day and you two frequently dissappear to some fancy spa retreat for the weekend.

🌼 Loves a steam room/sauna combination, especially when you join him, theres something really sexy about watching you lie on your back in a bikini, lit up by the dim orange glow of the sauna. That musky essential oils smell lingering in the air... The little beads of sweat on your breasts as your chest rises and falls... "Lie down John, stop starring at me you're supposed to be relaxing..." "Oh I'm relaxed flower don't worry about me..."

🌼 Loves a massage, especially when you go all professional on him with the essential oils. When you get him to lie face down on the bed and climb on top of him to massage his back. Feeling your hands all over him, feeling your legs straddling him...

🌼 You know what else is a good stress reliever love? An orgasm.

🌼 You put cucumber on his eyes when he's in the bath and he immediately thanks you for the snack and eats it. You're speechless, how do you even begin to tell him thats not what thats for.

Bonnie

🍀 Perfectly happy to be silly with you and will let you do whatever you want to him if it makes you happy... So he lets you work out his skin type and prepare the perfect face mask...

🍀 Actually sometimes he'll acompany you out into the forest to find the berries and plants you need to make your little self care rememdies with, its a good excuse to spend time with you and he finds it incredible how knowledgeable about plants and herbs you are...

🍀Does point out that this facemask you've mixed up for yourself is just a really fancy overnight oats recipe... Does eat a spoonful and imediately regrets it wincing and spitting it out.

🍀 It does take quite a lot to convince him that self-care isn't the same as make up and stuff, he's always telling you not to "buy into all that wellness shite" because its just a new capitalist method of getting your money off you...

🍀 And you know, he's not completely wrong, but self care isn't just about buying stuff and you have to try and teach him that before he'll really let you show him stuff. Showing him how you make natural face masks, moisturisers and bath salts does help this process.

🍀 He has to take care of his body for his boxing and he's no stranger to a sports massage, actually more often than not he's the one trying to get you to let him give you a back rub... Whenever you offer he always starts on you, squeezing your shoulders, telling you you seem tense. He's such a smooth talker you don't even realise he's derailed your plan until he's smoothing warm lavender oil over your back, working your muscles skillfully. And when you do realise you don't want to ask him to stop.

🍀 After his fights you want to take good care of him and you always insist he spends the following day with you, relaxing... You spoil him with a hot bath to sooth his sore muscles, scented candles and nature sounds asmr music, massages, he even lets you put a hair mask in his curls.

🍀He's always been torn about things like spa days, hes always thought they were something for posh people, wives of men who play too much golf... But again, he'll do anything if you ask him enough times, so he comes with you one day and he's adorably awkward and hesitant about everything.

🍀 You pick his treatments for him and he really really has to trust you because he's not sure what an "all over body sugar scrub" is but it sounds, intimidating? Afterwards when you ask for his review he just grins, "I'd have liked it more if it was you in there with me..."

🍀 Ultimately though Bonnie's idea of self care is a day in the woods, or by a river with you. Somewhere peaceful, quiet. Lying back against a tree trunk with you in his arms.

🍀 "Really dove, takin care of my girls what makes me feel good, enough with your scented candles now eh, let me look after you, it's not like i ain't good at it..." he says whispering the last sentence in your ear, kissing your neck as he starts to massage your shoulders.

🍀 You're literally never winning this battle sorry.

Isaiah

🐀 Will roll his eyes when you suggest a self care night, calls it your "hippy dippy bullshit" teases you and asks if you're going to do his birth chart whilst you're at it... "Maybe I should Si, might find out why you're such a snide git eh?" You'll probably regret flashing him that cheeky smile.

🐀So aye, he's not exactly easy to convince, he has the same opinion on self care as most the other men... That its girls stuff, that it ain't manly to smell like lavender and camomile.

🐀But, a little wine, a few candles and a hot bath... You with your legs wrapped around his waist, your fingers massaging his scalp gently... Whats not to like about that... He really likes how close it makes you feel, the connection between you strengthening.

🐀Thats more to do with the fact he's being vulnerable with you and his vulnerability is being met with care and love, rather than down to the fact you've sugar scrub massaged his back and legs.

🐀He will let you do facemasks with him but it will come accompanied by many threats, "you tell anyone about this mousy and I promise you you'll regret it..." but you're not scared of him and so you tease him with the threat of telling his touch guy gangster friends all the time. You start getting your own way much more often.

🐀I think he probably enjoys the tension of letting you shave him with an open razor blade, i don't know if this counts as self care so much as just a personal hygiene thing but either way, its a very intense and intimate experience and you're the only person he trusts to do it because you're so gentle and delicate with it that you never cut him.

🐀He fancies himself a social climber and enjoys the status of being able to "treat his girl to a relaxing weekend away" he definitely enjoys taking you to spas and baths, but he tends to let you go off for all the fancy treatments and just enjoys swimming in the pool and relaxing on the stone beds or in the sauna.

🐀Another man who needs to be taught about the power of moisturising. His skin gets dry and you buy him moisturisers and give him little face massages. He's much better at remembering to do his little skincare routine than alfie is because he cares a lot about the way he looks.

🐀"Fuckin drop it with the meditation shit love, i go to church I say my prayers, I don't need to do deep breathing to cleanse my soul..." he just won't do it, won't try your stretches either because "I go to the gym don't I, yogas for girls love..."

🐀Pulls stupid faces at you when you put cucumber on his eyes.

Michael

☘️Out of all the men he takes care of himself the best. He already has a skincare routine, has several serums he uses too.

☘️ So it doesn't take much to convince him of other self care activities. However, don't you dare call it self care. "Look I'm all for lookin after meself like i just don't see why we've got to give it some soft girly name now..."

☘️ He really loves being pampered, kind of likes being treated like a king... His cousins take the piss out of him for it but he doesn't care... "Don't really see whats embarrassing about having my girl massage me back after work... Don't it make me more of a man that I've got a woman who's obsessed with me..." you never let it slide when he talks about you like that but you also know why he's doing it. He's just trying to get his cousins off his back.

☘️ Would probably spend every weekend at the spa if he thought he could get away with it. He likes to throw his cash around and receive special treatment.

☘️ He really really loves a salt scrub and he's a secret fan of a facial too.

☘️He's never the one to suggest that the two of you have a self-care evening together but you can always tell when he needs one and he never refuses your offer.

☘️You have a mini spa built into your house, a sauna and a hot tub, sometimes when you're having once of your self care nights you find yourself next to him in the hot tub, your mood changing.. Your mind drifting to other things, but when Michael is relaxing he's relaxing and theres no disturbing him.

☘️"Not now love eh, later maybe..." his little spa is sacred to him. You're astounded because he must be the first man to turn down the offer of a hot tub fuck.

#peaky blinders imagines #bonnie gold x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders headcanon #alfie solomons x reader #Peaky blinders reader insert

[too-many-baes]

The Wandering Shelby’s

Pairing: fem!Shelby!reader x Shelby Brothers

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption

Word Count: 2.4K

Request: “Can I request a Tommy Shelby x daughter where she goes to a nightclub on her 18th birthday, and he, Arthur and John follow her to make sure she’s alright” - by Anon

A/N: Day four Non-Stop August! This is an old request that had been sitting there for a while since my hiatus, and I was only too happy to get to it now. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this one, so thank you for the idea!

“Okay bye Dad!” You yell as you shrug your short fur shawl on top of your shoulders. You’d almost reached the front door and thought you’d hit your timing perfectly, but the signature abrupt yell from your father had you looking up and cursing the sky. So close.

“I don’t think so, come in here.” You grumble and stomp your heel at the door for effect before you shuffle your way into the living area. What you found was not an unusual sight, your father, Thomas Shelby, smoking a cigarette with your uncles, Arthur and John. When you appear in the doorway you’re met with absolute silence. Tommy finishes the large puff he’d been taking, blowing it out nonchalantly and shaking his head as he did.

“I don’t think so.” You raise your eyebrow defiantly and shrug your shoulders.

“You don’t think so, what?” You catch Arthur hiding a smirk out of the corner of your eye, but know better than to stand down to a stare off when it was your father involved.

“Get changed, you’re not wearing that.” You looked down to assess yourself.

You had gone and bought yourself a new dress for your birthday, with permission of your father of course, and that was what you had put on. The garment was a deep green and completely covered in sequins right down to your midthigh, where the hem of the garment ended and the delicate fringing that reached your knees began. You knew the piece was a little on the racy side of things, with a v neck line that showed off more of your cleavage than you had ever dared before. You weren’t purposely trying to upset your father though, and had the good sense to put on a pair of fine fish net tights underneath and the black fur shawl that hung around your shoulders.

“I absolutely am wearing this, you said I could buy a new dress.” Tommy’s eyes slightly widened at your statement.

“And that’s what you bought? When I said a dress,” he said your name in his signature parental scolding tone that you had grown accustomed to over the last 18 years, “I meant a dress, not whatever scraps of fabric they could find at the shop.” You let a very unbecoming whine escape your lips at his scolding that had both of your uncles laughing.

“This is what everybody is wearing.”

“Well, no Shelby would be caught dead in it, you have the family name to uphold I’ll remind you.”

“Oh c’mon Tommy,” John piped up, “it’s her 18th, let the girl have some fun.” You smiled over at John, the uncle you could always count on to have your back on matters such as these. You often put it down to him being the youngest of the three and having a little more of a party streak than what you ever imagined your father had.

A honking from outside pulled your focus, looking at the door quickly and then back at your father.

“That would be Helen, and my cue to leave.” You walk over to a still complaining Tommy and press a kiss onto his cheek, his stern gaze not wavering at the gesture.

“I still wish you’d have let me tell Ada.”

“There’s no way I’d have let her come.” You yell from the hallway. You scoop up your beaded black clutch from the hallway table and yell a goodbye to the three men, hearing an array of ‘be careful’s’ and ‘don’t drink to much’s’ follow you out the door. You shake your head at your worrying family. They’d been the same way ever since you’d been a little girl, and although you didn’t really think they’d stop as you got older, a girl could dream.

Another honk from the car pulls you out of your thoughts and has you running to meet the ever impatient Helen, who looked stunning in a red tiered fringe number.

“Happy birthday!” Your best friend squealed, pulling you into a bone crushing hug once you were seated in the back with her. Helen was your best friend and two years older than you, so she had been more than delighted when you’d asked her to be your guide around town for the night.

If you’d have been any other teenager you would have been sneaking in to clubs years ago, but your father kept a close eye on you. And as much as you liked to play the rebel, you had listened to your father when he’d said people would know who you were and know that you’d have been underage.

So here you were giggling with your friend as she popped a bottle of champagne for the car ride, chauffer taking you to your first stop of the night.

                                                         *******

You were sweaty, tired, and more than a little tipsy, but that was not stopping you as you and Helen continued to dance, flailing your legs and arms around to the beat of the music.

You were currently in club number four. You’d lost track of the time after club two, too happy and giggly to be caring about such trivial things.

Helen motioned behind her, wordlessly telling you that she was going to grab you both another drink each. You nodded happily, pointing to where you were stood to indicate you’d be right here.

The song changed when Helen had reached the bar, slowing down to a tempo that had the men and women who had previously been bopping suddenly pulled in close and swaying. You were about to exit the dance floor and join Helen at the bar when a tapping on your shoulder had you pausing and turning.

There stood a man who was a complete stranger to you holding out his hand and looking at you with a smirk on his face. On any other night you’d have said no, but it was your birthday, and you felt like enjoying this night to the fullest.

You accepted the dark haired mans hand, and he swiftly pulled you in so your bodies were pressed firmly against one another. The hand you’d taken stayed holding yours while the other placed itself at a respectable height on your waist.

“Richard.” He stated simply as your hand went to rest on his shoulder after it had snaked it’s way up the length of his arm first. You replied with your own name, a coy smile on your face as you did. The smile and gesture brought a larger smile to his face as he leant down to your ear to ask you a question. The words got lost in translation as you noticed someone at the bar talking to Helen that pulled all of your focus.

At the first club you’d thought you’d noticed the shaved side of a ginger head in passing that looked suspiciously like Uncle Arthur. At club two, a tweed flat cap that looked like it belonged to Uncle John, and at club three you could’ve sworn you’d seen your father at the door as you’d entered, smoke billowing from his mouth.

Now, there was no denying it. Sat at the bar talking to Helen was indeed your father and it made you furious. A small excuse to Richard had you leaving his question ignored as you broke from the embrace and high tailed it to the bar before Tommy could notice. As you got behind him you caught a snippet of their conversation.

“Of course I’ve been looking out for her Thomas, I would never let anything happen.”

“Oh yeah,” he said accompanied by a scoff, “is that why she’s on the dancefloor right now with some creeps hands all over her?” He whipped his head to where you’d left Richard to prove his point, where his eyes widened in panic at no longer finding you there.

“Looking for something, or should I say, someone?” Your voice had him frozen on the spot, stuck in the knowledge that he’d been caught in the act. When he finally turned to look at you, he saw you stood there with your hands on your hips and the signature Shelby annoyance plastered on your face.

“Look darling-”

“Don’t ‘look darling’ me Dad, what the hell are you doing here?” His mouth, that had been hanging open upon being interrupted, snapped shut as you could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to figure out how he could explain his way out of this.

“Alright so his name is Richard Quinn and he works at the offices in town. Now I reckon that…” You spun around to find Arthur standing there, obviously having not noticed your presence until he had dug himself in too deep.

“Thank you Arthur.” Tommy’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he pulled out a cigarette with a sigh.

“Oh so you’re spying on the people I talk to as well? Stalking not enough for you lot?” Both men refrained from speaking as you stood there shaking your head at them. “Right then, I’ve had it.” Quick as a flash you scoop up your belongings that Helen had been sitting by and march to the door. Once outside you lean up against the building and take what was supposed to be a grounding breath of cold air.

You thought you could feel yourself calming down until you noticed John Shelby stood on the opposite side of the wall you were on, debating whether or not to hide or stay put and hope for the best.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You march towards the Shelby who now knew that he’d been sighted as he tried to act casual by leaning against the brick. “You know Dad and Uncle Arthur is one thing, but I thought you were better than this Uncle John.” You spit out with an accusatory finger pointed at his face. He had the good grace to look sheepish at least, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as he took your scolding. You stepped out to the edge of the footpath and raised your hand in an attempt to hail a taxi before your arm was pulled out of the air.

“If you want to go home we’ll take you. We’re heading the same place after all.” John’s calm did nothing to quell you into agreeance, instead you ripped your arm out of his grasp and raised it again, trying to catch the attention of an upcoming cab. You smiled to yourself when the car pulled over, feeling victorious in escaping your meddling family of Shelby’s.

You celebrated too soon, as the door you’d just opened was slammed shut by your father, who leant in the passenger seat window and told the driver to jog on.

“You’re coming home with us.” When Tommy saw you still stood, fuming, in the same spot when the other three had made moves to head towards their car, he stormed over and grabbed you by the crook of the elbow, pulling you along behind him.

“Let go of me Dad, I’m not a child.” You state, even as you thrashed and tried to remove his grip like a petulant kid. He spun around to look at you, a fire in his eyes that stilled your movements.

“The second you stop acting like a child I’ll stop treating you like one, now get. In. The car.” His words were clipped and punctuated, making you get into the back seat without another word. You knew when you’d lost, even if you did slam the door once seated.

The car ride was silent and filled with smoke, as Tommy and Arthur sat smoking in the front and John sat beside you with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been holding back until now, but it felt like the silence had gripped your throat and squeezed, forcing tears out of the corners of your eyes as you gazed out the window. You tried to wipe them away before they were seen, but John caught you in the act.

“Awh c’mon kiddo, it’s not that bad.” He shuffled over closer to you, pulling you into a side hug so that your head rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arm up and down. The tears continued to fall as you sat there embarrassed, with your father looking at you in the rear view as he drove and Arthur occasionally turning to catch a glance.

“I’m 18 now you three. How long before you trust me?”

“It’s not that we don’t trust you,” Arthur finally spoke from the front, “we just worry.”

“We know better than most that there are bad people out there darling. Our worrying got the better of us.” You sniffled on John’s shoulder raising your head with a final wipe of your eyes as you looked at your father.

“I know that Dad, but you can’t go following me around everywhere. You’re going to have to trust that I have the good sense enough to watch out for myself. I am a Shelby after all.” That had your uncle’s releasing a laugh, but your Dad simply held your gaze in the rear view as the car rolled to a stop outside your house. You took the silence as your cue to leave before the others were dropped home.

As annoyed as you still were with them the ride had calmed you down, so you leant forward to place a kiss on Arthur’s cheek, before repeating the process with John and getting out of the car.

“I love you guys,” you said through the open car window, “even when you piss me off.” Your uncles laughed again as you walked to the drivers door where Tommy sat looking at you as you placed your hands around the edge of the completely open window.

“Head inside darling, we’ll talk more in the morning.” He placed one of his large hands over both of yours, giving them a tight squeeze before releasing them. You leant in and kissed him on the cheek, smiling at him before saying your goodnights and heading to the door.

You turned right when you were about to head inside, seeing the car was unmoving, as you thought it would be until you closed the door. You gave a small wave that was reciprocated by two, John instead raising his hands and blowing you a big kiss. You went in and sure enough heard the car engine start mere moments later.

Your conversation with them was far from over and you knew it wouldn’t be easy to get it through to them that you were officially an adult now. But at the end of the day you were still glad to have been born into that dysfunctional family.

Because you knew that you’d always have them at your side, no matter what.

#peak blinders x reader #peaky blinders reader insert #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders imagine #sister!Shelby #protective brother #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #request #non-stop august #too many baes #too many baes non-stop august #anon #no y/n #writing #mine

[zodiyack]

Bonnie meeting Ellie for the first time 🥺😩

He fell in love with one Shelby, then another ❤️

I'm gonna add a little twist, but its still cute nonetheless

Fic below the cut

Bonnie was instructed to wait outside by Y/n, left with the knowledge that she was supposedly just grabbing something really quick before she were to meet him outside again. His curiosity got the best of him, however, when she hadn't returned for a good twenty minutes. He pushed open the door lightly and poked his head into the Shelby home. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and no one appeared to be in the room, so he pursued his quest in finding Y/n.

"Y/n?" He made himself known as he looked around, deciding it was ultimately best to wait in the sitting room rather than snoop elsewhere. "Y/N, love, are you ready?"

He earned a reply, yet, not quite the one he was expecting.

"Mummy's busy."

Bonnie whipped his hear around, then down to meet the eyes of a small girl. "Well, whatever might your name be?"

"Elizabeth Shelby." She struggled only slightly to get the words out, her tiny voice chipper yet soft. "Do you know mummy?"

"...Is Y/N your mummy?" The girl nodded. "Then yes, I do know your mummy. She and I are supposed to go have dinner soon, but as you said, she's busy."

"You can play with me 'til mummy is no busy!" Bonnie chuckled and nodded, accepting the invitation of the small bundle of joy beaming up at him.

So they played, Ellie showing him her favorite books and toys, requesting that he read to her, then play, then read, and the cycle went on. Y/N took some more time, but it didn't matter to Bonnie, as time seemed to fly as he played with the mini-her. Pretty soon, he found himself in the arm chair across the fire, quite drowsy, with little Ellie sat in his lap, drooling away to Dreamland. He wanted to the same, but the only thing that kept him from doing so was knowing he had to wait for Y/N.

Just as he thought his droopy eyes would betray him, a door atop the staircase clicked open. "I'm so sorry for taking so long, I- Oh." Y/N paused, a smile slipping upon her face at the sight. "I see you've met Ellie."

#zodiyack #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders #the peaky blinders #peaky blinders x shelby!reader #elizabeth Shelby #ellie shelby #shelby!sis #x reader #reader insert #all readees #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader insert #shelby!sister #shelby family #shelby!reader #elizabeth l Shelby

[mutenized]

The Choice Bit of Calico - Chapter 2

Ship: Thomas Shelby x Reader Characters: Thomas Shelby, Billy Kimber, Ada Shelby, Polly Shelby, Finn Shelby, Arthur Shelby, John Shelby, mentions of Freddie Thorne Warning(s): mentions of blood, war, and violence (obviously), maybe a slow burn?, forbidden romance, inner conflict, heartache, rebellion. Intended smut. In this chapter there is a bit of time skipping; only 3 times I believe. A/N: Choice Bit of Calico was slang in the 1920s for a desirable woman. The prologue to this series can be found HERE and Chapter One can be found HERE. This is the first time I’ve written a fic in, like, a year. That also means I haven’t written since Helen McCrory passed away, so I was feeling EVERY feeling whilst putting my whole heart into this one. Enjoy! Synopsis: You are the sibling of Billy Kimber. Living with him in London, you heard of nursing classes offered at a church in Birmingham near where you and your older brother were born. It was during World War I and you wanted to do something to help the soldiers from your country as well as the allied countries. Living in your childhood home until you were sent back to London to work at the Veteran’s Hospital, you never forgot about the firey brunette who wanted to do the same as you. Keeping in touch, you both wrote letters back and forth until one fateful day you find yourself back in Birmingham, bags in hand, to take care of an ailing family member. Who knew the moment you got off the train your whole life would change?

Laughs filled the parlor as you and Polly caught up, her face never in a scowl which was usually transfixed on her features with the three brothers back from war. You had assumed correctly that they were running amuck, causing Polly to hop back into her motherly role that she lightly retired though never fully rid herself of since Ada and Finn were both around. Speaking of Ada, Polly had told you of the rebellious phase the young woman has currently found herself in. “She thinks she is sneaking out swiftly, but I can hear the pads of her feet hit the wood! Does she think I’m daft?” The woman’s voice came out exasperated as her hands toyed at the rim of her teacup, her head leaning back against the molding of the chair she rested in. With your lips kissing the gold trimmed teacup as a pause, you took in Polly’s comments and connected the dots with the miniscule number of details that Ada had sprinkled in her notes to you. “Well,” you pause as you place the cup down on its twin coaster, “maybe since her older brothers are back, she feels like she isn’t free to express her femininity and her freedom? I can relate to her struggle since I too have my older brother always breathing down my neck.” Tilting your head, you tried to play the devil’s advocate. That was a dangerous game to play within the Shelby household, but Polly didn’t seem to mind. However, the brothers who were being mentioned were lurking around the corner as not to be spotted. With a cigarette pursed between his lips, the blue eyed man clenched his jaw before pressing his head back against the wall he rested upon. Something about you set all of his alarms off, the anxiety filling his stomach as he felt kicks and warmth within it. The sensation wasn’t new but it hadn’t been felt in a while and, like a bloodhound hunting for its owner, Thomas was going to sniff you out. “Yes I know, darling, but Christ. You would think she would at least confide in me since I struggled the same as her. Whatever she might be doing, this family has a target on its back and we need her to be safe.” An earnestly spoken Polly leaned forward and placed her warm hand on your knee with a soft smile. You understood that look. The look of familial love, the type you longed for ever since Billy stopped seeing you as his kid sister but rather another thing in his life to worry about like you were a task. “But she will be grateful you’re here. Maybe then she won’t pussyfoot around and actually help with the family. Speaking of,” rising from her chair, the woman brushed her skirt out before turning to the doors of the parlor, “I think we owe you an explanation of what is going on. You were probably confused by the eyes on you as you came to the house.” Before you could respond, the door that you and Polly stood by swung open. A scowling Thomas stood in the doorway, steam practically coming out of his ears as his eyes darted between you and his aunt. “Pol, what do you think you’re doin’? Not introducin’ Y/N to what I think you’re about to head to.” His voice was gruff and dark, filled with warning which would’ve sent you into a spree of apologies if he was your brother talking to you. “That’s strictly family business. That’s up to me an’ I don’t feel like she can be trusted to know that.” Confusion and a bit of anger overtook you as you furrowed your brows at the older male whom towered over you, how dare he talk to Polly like that. Before his aunt could even muster a reply, you stepped forward and crossed your arms over your chest in defense. “Thomas, is it?” A sickly sweet tone dripped from your lips, the tone Polly knew all to well. It was the one you would use on the men at The Garrison when they tried to insinuate that only whores show up alone there. The tone that she admired in you, it signified your will to pull apart the stigma around women being seen as mere objects for men and weak minded. She knew by this point she couldn’t stop you which resulted in her raising her brows to her nephew and pursing her lips. The telltale Polly face that signified to the man that he fucked up royally. “Well, Thomas. When you and your brothers were away serving in the war, which I am grateful for seeing as we are no longer missing your lovely intelligence from this society, I helped Polly out with making sure everything was in order like I stated before. I even made sure to dress you and your brother’s beds just incase you were sent home that day. I helped Ada with the ever-present anxiety that your absence caused. I know bringing this up is not fair to you or your brothers but with me back in Small Heath, I will be around here more often so you must get used to my lovely presence. One that, for no reason in particular, you seem to despise though I just met you all of an hour ago.” Pressing your hands into the material of your dress, you rid yourself of any anxiety and frustration you had held before letting go of the breath you held. “I would like to know why men with flat caps stared at me with venom and lust as I walked up your front steps and why your flat caps,” pointing to the hats with shiny tips at the lip that hung on pegs in the hallway, “look just like the ones I saw as I walked over from my flat to yours.” Thomas, though never one to show emotion through his facial expressions, seemed visibly shocked. Observant, he noted of you, taking your words into account as he pursed his lips just like Polly did moments before. His blue orbs gazed between his aunt and you once more before raising his brows at Poly as if to say ‘well go on and tell her then.’ Though reluctantly, the man knew that if Polly vetted for you, you were someone who was loyal enough to let into their lives though he wasn’t fond of newcomers. Especially ones that were already so close to his family. With a hand on your shoulder, Polly explained to you the reason of the men with razors in the brim of their caps and the protection around their house. The air seemed to grow tense in the house as she and her nephews guided you to the hidden room of their house. The bidding room. Holy. Shit. Monaghan Boy. “So you do horse racing as well?” Tilting your head inquisitively, you look between Polly and the business in front of you. Of course Polly knew who your brother was as did Ada. That was something you couldn’t hide, especially over 4 years of knowing the pair. With a knowing glace, you knew Polly would keep your family name a secret as to not cause your head possibly being blown off by the hot-tempered men who acted on impulsivity. “Interesting. I don’t have much knowledge of the topic,” that wasn’t a lie. You wanted nothing to do with what your brother did seeing as he ran a gang that has caused more than one death scare, “but if you ever need help, I’m quite good at arithmetic. Got all exemplarities on my exams all my life in the topic.” That was your olive branch and Arthur noticed it from across the room, his eyes now focusing on the small group as he stood. “Pol, don’t we need another accountant to help out with our expenses? Maybe this lass can help out? I mean you say she’s part o’ the family, why not make ‘er one?” Arthur’s words shock seemingly everyone in the room, eyes darting between eyes, John sitting in the back corner with a smirk as he rolled his toothpick between his teeth. Thomas looked absolutely livid at the idea, going to speak with a wild look in his eyes before being cut off by a shrill gasp. Ada. “OH MY LORD!” The sweet girl that you knew all those years ago came rushing towards you, her bag and fur flung to the ground as she wrapped her long, pale arms around your figure. “Y/N You’re here?! Are you visiting? Why didn’t you tell me?” Slapping your arm playfully, the brunette then took count of the situation. The bidding room, you and Polly, Thomas, Arthur, and John. Oh god. “What did you lot do?! Did you fuck with the Kimbers?!” The joy you felt disintegrated as eyes snapped to you.

Well fuck.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader smut #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders reader insert #reader insert #Ada Shelby #Ada Thorne #Arthur Shelby #polly shelby #aunt polly #peaky blinders imagine

[willowhaired]

hello everyone! i'm willowhaired; you can call me willow or will. 🤗

i share things i like but also write fanfiction and the occasional reader insert. the fandoms i'm active in are: Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit, Harry Potter, Peaky Blinders, Twin Peaks, X Files, True Detective, Under the Banner of Heaven. ◾ HERE you can find my masterlist. ◾

i am also posting on ao3 and fanfiction.net.

current event: 🍂 autumn matchups 🍂

the fandoms i do matchups for: ▪ lord of the rings / the hobbit ▪ harry potter (let me know if you'd want a character from a specific era) ▪ twin peaks

the fandoms i accept headcanon / shorts requests for: ▪ lord of the rings / the hobbit ▪ harry potter ▪ twin peaks ▪ peaky blinders

please do include any preferences you might have.

#masterlist #lord of the rings #lotr imagine #lotr reader insert #lort of the rings reader insert #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader insert #twin peaks #twin peaks imagine #twin peaks reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #lord of the rings fanfiction #twin peaks fanfiction #true detective #x files #under the banner of heaven #utboh #utboh reader insert #matchup #requests open

[ryuzakemo128]

The Angel Of Death

Chapter Five: Peaky Blinder Devil

<- Previous Chapter / Next Chapter ->

Trigger Warning(s): Mention Of Death, Cursing, Violence

Pairing: (Later on) Thomas Shelby x Red (Female Reader)

Red heard of him through spies carrying information about his past, his relations to certain people like Elizabeth Gray and Grace Burges. Before the meeting with Thomas Shelby could start a woman in her thirties asked to meet with Red. She didn't state anything other than the fact it was important they talked.

"I want to know who you are" Polly asked her, crossing her arms sitting across from her.

"Is there anything particular that you wanted to know about?" Red asked her raising an eyebrow, "I'm also curious as to know why you want to know"

"I know about the spies you have paid to watch us,"

"To watch, gather information and to compile a file on each one of you. I'm not here to kill you, I'm here to gather information to know the best way to approach you." She took a long sip of her tea, "I'm Red by the way, it's nice to meet you"

"Nice to meet you Red, I'm Polly Gray"

"Is it Miss or Mrs. Gray?" Red asked her wanting to remain as polite yet direct as possible.

"Mrs. Gray would be preferred"

"Well Mrs. Gray, my employer and I had the idea that we would like to see if we could come to an agreement to share information. Kind of like an alliance of sorts."

"That's why you paid 25 pounds to deliver those letters straight to him"

"I thought it would be a great idea at the time. Not that I had any strict orders in how to get them to him anyway."

"I'll make sure he'll know what you're up to."

"You make it sound nefarious Mrs. Gray."

Red spoke to Mrs. Gray for far longer than she anticipated. She didn't realize how much time had passed until it was time for her to head home.

"Thank you for the tea Mrs. Gray. I had a nice time talking to you."

The conversation with Polly Gray would be something worth remembering, as it is something that went on repeat as Red walked home that night. Galina's plan would go off without a hitch or scratch or bump that night.

While Red spoke to Polly, Galina was speaking to Thomas and during that time. Galina agreed to let Thomas speak to Red. Red being the internally important piece of the puzzle that "needed" to be "figured out".

The day came around sooner than Red would have liked, as a message from her boss, Galina came in saying she needed to be down at the Garrison at Eleven Thirty that morning.

"One day you won't have to knock on the window so damn loudly." She said to the raven, "One day I might give you a name too"

This raven started following Red while she stayed in Norway on her assignment there and continued to follow her ever since. Until recently that one raven became two.

"You found a friend and yet you both decided to stay with me. I hope you two know what you signed up for."

Red walked over to the Garrison thinking "I hope those birds aren't following me, I wouldn't want to be the poor bastard that sees that today."

"I almost thought you wouldn't show up" Thomas Shelby said to her making Red jump a little.

"Give me more notice next time" is what she thought but didn't say aloud. "You said to Galina that it was important. So here I am, I'm Red by the way."

"I know, your boss told me already."

"Well, then you should also know why we're here then."

"I want you to be present in the meetings with your boss from now on."

"Before you get too far ahead, I want you to know that we have done our research ahead of time and any new information will be passed onto you as soon as possible. I have an archive outside of city limits that has the information that you might want now or in the future."

"Anything else before I continue?"

"Other than that, you're protected by us from this point forward I'll my people here, there and almost everywhere your people are. Always good have backup when you need it, Mr. Shelby." Red smirked, "that's all I have to say about it"

"Why help us?"

"I'm sucker for helping people, even cute ones like you."

Red left that meeting with Thomas being more confused than he was before it started. She was direct in the compliment to him, thinking "Well, I'm right, he's cute as fuck and I want him to know it too"

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders angst #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders reader insert #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby angst #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby x female reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby au #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #fanfiction #fanfic #y/n imagine #reader insert #x reader #y/n x character #female reader #fem reader #fluff #imagine

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PART THREE

Unchained Melody (Part Four)

Summary: After a distressing day of events, you and Tommy finally have the conversation you had both been avoiding for over a fortnight. All under the furious glare of the Governess as she watches from the window, fuming that her plan had fallen apart.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, medical emergency

Word Count: 5334

Counting the days since your return to Arrow House had quickly turned into counting weeks. And just as you had once stored the memory of time passed, you found yourself in the midst of loneliness once again. Your new life felt much the same as it once did, albeit with a clearer mind, and the cherished guiding hand of reassurance from your dear housekeeper, Frances. But as you tried to rebuild the severed bond with your son, one thing from your previous life stubbornly remained without any hope of changing. Tommy's absence. Two weeks had passed since your husband had given you a difficult dose in the reality of your disappearance from his life to swallow. And two weeks had passed since you last spoke more than a few words to each other. If his avoidance of you wasn't obvious before, there was now no denying it.

Ashamed of his behavior, and begrudging the fact the near full contents of a whisky bottle he had consumed that night was not enough to dull his memory of the moment he had nearly struck you, Tommy had all but barricaded himself off, and away from any resurfacing grievances he still held for you.

Not allowing yourself to follow your husband's emotional course of self-destruction, you decided to focus your attention on one thing. William. If your husband's bullheadedness had no intentions of following his Aunt's advice, then you would. For all the years you had lived within the tight-knit family you had married into, you had learnt one thing. Polly was always right. Always.

With the wise words of the Shelby matriarch playing on loop in your thoughts as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair into a loose updo, you forgoed any hopes of reconciliation with your husband, and did as the saying goes. "Let sleeping dogs lie"

Just let him be. You told your nagging brain as you stood up, placing your ivory pearl tear-dropped earrings into your ears, forcing them with a wince through the thin layer of skin that had formed from the many years you had gone without jewellery. A birthday gift from Tommy. Was a little part of you hoping he would notice? You thought to yourself as you opened your bedroom door, wondering if the subtle gesture of gratitude you still held for him would go overlooked. Not that you were trying, of course. And like everything else you had been thrown into in the past two weeks, now was your chance to find out. For just as you reached the top of the staircase, so did your husband, and with it an uncomfortable, almost unbearable silence following him.

" Tommy" you greeted him, unable to force a smile through the sorrow weighing down your heart at his absent gaze as you searched his face for the same desperation you felt.

" Morning" he stated, void of any notions of intimacy as he cleared his throat. Sending but a mere glimpse your way, he gestured with his hand for you to lead the way.

For the briefest of moments all you could do was stand there, hoping like some silly school girl he'd notice the birthday present he had gifted you all those many moons ago. But as Tommy fished in his suit jacket for a much-needed puff of the cigarette calling his name, a dousing of embarrassment piled onto the already mounting heap you had accumulated over the past two weeks, and thus further installing Polly's words to you.

Focus on William. You reassured yourself holding your head high as he followed behind you, quickly inhaling the fumes from the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco resting between his lips.

But Tommy did notice. He would have noticed a single eyelash out of place if given enough time to do so. Everything, and anything to do with you Tommy noticed, anything but the one thing he had regretfully refused to face, and would now haunt him to his grave, tormenting him for not saying something enough to soothe your worries away. You wore royal blue that night. He thought to himself, recalling the evening he had gifted you the delicate pearled jewels that were gracefully swaying through the whispers of your hair gathered together into pins as he took each step down the long wooded staircase behind you, watching the skin on your neck pucker into small goosebumps from the light spring breeze flowing through the open windows. The same night he held you tightly in his arms, making love to you in front of the fireplace of your living room. The night he was sure William was made. He recounted, losing himself in the small ghost of a smile etched on the corner of his mouth as he watched the end of your dress glide over each step, while the memory of you profusely refuting his calculations entered his thoughts. But when William was born exactly nine months later, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of cockiness that his keen eye for observation, and his note of a very needy wife that night hadn't gone a miss.

"Mrs Shelby, Mr Shelby. He's been so eager to see you both" Frances smiled upon seeing you descend united down the staircase, a small amount of misplaced hope in her heart that you had worked through things as you both beamed at the wriggly two-year-old unable to contain himself any further in her arms at the sight of his parents.

" William! Hi sweetheart " You smiled, kneeling down as his little legs charged towards you, throwing himself into you with a squeal and a thud. " Did you grow during the night? I think you did" you tickled under the curve of his chin, rubbing your nose over his as your husband's heart pulled at it's tethered strings from seeing the peaceful image of his wife and son together, an image he never thought he'd witness again " What do you think Tommy? Doesn't he looked like he's gro.." You said, momentarily forgetting your self as you turned to face your husband, only to be met with an empty space with Tommy having already walked off to his office.

" Come Mam, I have breakfast ready for you both" Frances sighed ushering you away from the sadness enveloping you as you pulled your only connection to your husband tightly in your arms. " Don't fret now" she said placing her hand to your back, as all your reserves left and a tear began to well in your lashes. " Time is a great healer" she whispered to you with a loving smile as the dining room door closed behind you both and Tommy glanced back, watching his family shut him out. How long would he keep this up before he buckled?

"Good day to you Mrs Shelby, and young Master William" the gardener, Mr Heath greeted you both taking his gloves off as you and William made your way out into the gardens of Arrow house later that morning, feeling the need to walk off the large breakfast of crumpets, and every spreadable food known to man that Frances had lovingly prepared for you.

" Look who it is William! Say hello" you guided him forward with a smile, watching him toddle to the enticing flower bed bright with colours Mr Heath had undoubtedly spent most of his morning planting. With an incoherent babble of words leaving his lips, William sized up the flower in front of him, picking it from its root before you had time to scoop him up into your arms. " I'm sorry Mr Heath. Nothing seems to escape him at the moment" you apologised as you held William on your hip with his victory grasped firmly between his chubby fingers.

" Plenty more where they came from. Isn't that right William? We'll make a gardener of you yet" he winked to your son, looping his thumbs through his suspenders as William kicked his feet back and forth with a squeal, muddying your freshly laundered dress. " Got some of those roses you like Mam, had one of the lads plant 'em this morning. Miss Gray insisted on them being added to the new flower bed you've been designing. And I'm not foolish enough to say no to her, ay?" he said with a chuckle nodding them out as your eyes widened, and a smile flashed across your face at the touching gesture, and Polly's keen memory of the flowers you would have the groundsmen plant rows of so you could adorn the rooms of Arrow house with their sweet perfume.

" Oh Mr Heath, thank you! You're ever so kind" you said, placing your hand on the curve of his shoulder as your eyes brimmed with tears at his gentle nature, unaware the whole interaction was being watched by your husband who was stood at his office window.

" Well, well. She seems to have a soft spot for your trusted gardener" the Governess said announcing her presence, snaking forward behind Tommy as his jaw tightened at the sound of her voice, his fists clenching furiously onto the windowsill Infront of him." She's often out there talking to him, for hours on end"

" Get out" he stated coldly as Tommy continued to watch you from afar, the Governesses words slowly sowing doubt into his already bombarded thoughts.

" Oh come on Tommy..." She purred, standing behind him as she watched you with William talking to the gardener, her breath hot against the back of his neck, sending a shivering chill down his spine " William's her priority now. She's moving on, time you did too. I see a little spark between them" she giggled, brushing her hands around his waist down to his belt whilst she rested her freshly powdered cheek on his back as a heavy release of anger quickly heated the tips of Tommy's ears from her continued refusal to accept his disinterest in her.

"Keep your vapid thoughts to yourself!" he spat, pulling her talons off him as he marched to his office door puffing furiously on his cigarette before swinging it open for her to leave.

" She doesn't want you Tommy" she teased, her icy glare matching his own as she sauntered past him, taking the cigarette from his mouth then blowing the fumes over his lips before your husband furiously slammed the door and returned back to the window, back to his troubled mind.

Heavy with anger, the Governesses words had left a bitter taste in his spiraling thoughts as he slipped into paranoia. Was this your way to get back at him for the Governess? A fling with one of his staff? He thought to himself, watching your hand drop from the gardener's shoulder, your muffled laughs loud enough to be heard from where he was stood. What was so funny? Were you laughing at him? He fumed with jealousy, his eyes fixed solely on your every movement, ignoring the real reason for your joyful mood.

" William, no darling!" You said with a chuckle, turning to face your two-year-old who had taken a liking to the flower he had picked so much, it was now fully enclosed in his mouth with only the stem sticking out.

"We'll leave those for the horses, ay William?" the gardener laughed, ruffling his dark locks as you pulled the fully intact flower from within his plump cheeks. " I'll have my boys plant some more roses this weekend for you Mam. We'll soon have the gardens looking as they once did" Mr Heath promised, turning back with pride at the flower bed he had spent the previous days planning with you, a little something to help you remember things could be how they once were, given enough time to flower.

" Thank you, Mr Heath" you said, looking around the garden when your eyes darted past Tommy stood at the window in the distance with a cloud of smoke bellowing in front his face, a displeased look etched into his furrowed brow. " Shall we get you inside?" you said glancing away from your husband to your son, wondering what you had done now to have him looking so vexed.

" It's good to have you back Mam" Mr Heath nodded his head to you with a smile as you turned to leave.

" It's good to be home" you called back, adjusting William on your hip as you watched your husband in the corner of your eye, following your every step as you made your way back inside, and unknowingly to face his sour temper.

" Y/N!" Tommy bellowed your name as he came marching towards you when Frances quickly inserted herself between you both, noting the Governess lurking behind the door of the library watching.

" Did you enjoy the flowers Miss Gray had planted for the new garden you've been planning with Mr Heath, Mrs Shelby?" Frances quickly interrupted Tommy before he said something he would later undoubtedly regret. For Tommy's once notorious stoic demeanor had rapidly turned into one of anger since your return. The likely culprit to this sudden change in behavior, still watching down in the corridor, adding more fuel to the flames of your already burning marriage.

" It's beautiful. I must remember to call and thank her" you replied, turning to face your husband with a quizzical brow, watching him turn his head away with a deep sigh as his fingers came up to pinch the tightened skin on the bridge of his nose.

" Mr Shelby, is there something I can help you with?" Frances asked as you both waited, watching the wheels turn in his eyes while he stood with his hands on his hips, head cast down feeling stupid for letting the viper he needed to be rid of slither her way into his paranoia.

"The er, the cake..." he said clearing his throat as he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Frances as you furrowed your brow at his unusual stuttering manner. What had gotten into him?

" Yes Mr Shelby?" Frances replied with a dutiful smile.

" What...what did Mr Giles use this time?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes quickly darted to you then back to your head housekeeper.

"Oh, I wouldn't know Mr Shelby. It was your wife that baked it this week" she said looking to you as you glanced up from smoothing down the jumper bunched up around William's chest whilst he curiously pulled at the pearl dangling from your earring.

" Brandy" you replied as a silence uncomfortably sat between you both while Frances watched on in desperation for you to both reunite, and bring peace and the love you shared back to Arrow House.

" Right" he replied quietly as his eyes lingered on you, gazing between your glossy lips and doe eyes looking up at him through your full lashes. " Right..." he repeated once again before suddenly turning for the front door.

" What...what on earth was all that about?" You asked your housekeeper as a look of puzzlement crossed your face from your husband's chaotic interaction with you.

" I'm not sure Mam" Frances replied guiding you away before glancing back to see a smirk of enjoyment flash across the Governesses lips, her eyes unnervingly narrowing in on her.

With an uncomfortable feeling of dread and unease weighing down her stomach, Frances watched the library door close, and the woman she had clocked onto slip away. What was she up to?

"Soon, William. Just another hour" you sighed, looking up at the clock as your son furiously stomped his feet, throwing his teddy your way with a wail of cries. No snacking, he's on a strict schedule. The Governesses words rang in your ears as you looked back at the ticking hands of the clock, convinced they were purposely going slower than normal. " How about we play with your new train set while we wait for dinner? Yeh?" you said energetically as you stood up from the nursery floor, hoping your enthusiasm would distract him from his rumbling belly. Holding out for his reaction, you waited and watched as he blinked away his tears, then dramatically threw himself to the floor, thrashing about like a crocodile in the throes of a death roll. " Right, you win" you declared, deciding a small snack was nothing worth battling over with a two-year-old as you picked him up and marched to the door and down the staircase. " I'm your mummy, and if you want a snack only one hour before dinner then...well, you can have a bloody snack" you said with determination, ignoring the Governesses rules that were anything but what she claimed to be "polite recommendations".

" Can I help you Mam?" The young kitchen aid Billy asked you as you started rummaging through the many cupboards, while simultaneously stopping Williams curious hands from putting everything and anything in his mouth for a drooling, toothy toddler taste test.

"Do we have any dried fruit, biscuits, bread?" You turned to ask him with a flustered face placing William down, your son instantly making a beeline for a large packet of flour. " William, wait!" you said as he opened the contents, pouring it over the tiled floor.

" Uh oh" he said with his hands out behind a puff of flour filling the air.

" Uh oh, indeed" you said covering your mouth from the giggles you were unable to hold back as you and Billy both looked down at your two-year-old emerging from the cloud of white dust that had settled around him.

" What's going on in here?" The Governess snapped, stood at the door as you patted the flour from your child's clothes. " Billy, clean this up" she demanded as you picked up your son and placed him on the kitchen table, dusting the remaining powdery kitchen staple from his brown locks. " Mrs Shelby. Your presence brings quite the chaos doesn't it?" she said as you sharply turned back to the cupboards, your patience reaching it's limits with her constant undermining of you. " His dinner is in under an hour" she reminded you as she frowned at the various jars and boxes of food you had pulled out from within the kitchen cabinets.

"He's been hungry for a few hours now. Something small won't hurt him before it's ready" you replied with as much assertiveness you could muster, waiting for her next snarky remark.

"Hours? I didn't tell you to starve the poor child. You're his mother, surely you know what he needs?" she replied, her cruel words hitting the little remaining self-confidence you had left as you bent down to William's eye level, his sweet face smiling back at you enough to keep the tears from starting, and the strength to say what needed to be said.

" I am his mother" you said, standing up, placing your arm protectively around your child's back. " And from today, I don't want to hear any more of your council, nor opinions on how I raise him. Know your place, and stay out of my parenting, and marriage" you finished with a labored breath, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your firmness on the matter from falling under the nerves coursing through your body.

"Billy, Mr Giles wants you! " She snapped, turning her piercing glare to the young kitchen aid stood nervously watching at the end of the table.

" But I have to finish up..."

" Now!" she barked, uncrossing her arms as she pulled a small jar of hazelnuts and various dried fruits from the shelf behind her as the young worker hurried past her, his eyes darting to the items of food she had placed on the large wooden table before he shut the door behind him. "Mrs Shelby?" She said pushing the food towards you, as you looked up from your son.

"Here we go, sweetheart" you said with a smile as you reached for the jar of nuts, crushing one between the heel of your hand and the table for him." Good?" You asked as he held his hand out for more, excitedly kicking his feet back and forth.

" Slow down" you giggled as your son delved his hand into the jar whilst you crushed another of the sweet earthy hazelnuts for you to share. "Slowly William" you said furrowing your brow as he began to cough, and your eyes darted around the kitchen for a jug of water as the Governess stood quietly watching. " William here, drink" you said placing a small cup to his lips when a feeling of unease settled in your stomach and your heart rapidly fluttered within you chest at the sound of yours sons sudden, unexpected wheezing. "William...William?" You panicked rubbing his back as his little lungs forcefully strained each labored breath out." Get help!" You cried looking to the Governess as you scooped up your son into your arms, his stifled cries of pain sending your body into a dizzying daze as your ears filled with a piercing ringing.

"What did you give him?!" Tommy shouted, storming through the kitchen moments later with Frances quickly following behind him as you stood there in shock, frantically trying to ease your child's cries.

" Wha...what's happening? Tommy?" You stuttered out between your rapid thoughts as you tried to answer your husband, when Tommy grabbed him from within your arms and placed him down on the cool slabbed floor, pulling his jumper off him.

" What did you fucking give him?!" Your husband screamed at you as his eyes darted up from the blotchy pink rashes covering your child's heaving chest and stomach.

" I...I..." You cried as you picked up the crushed hazelnut on the table next to you as Tommy's eyes suddenly widened in a panic.

" Get the fucking car!" Tommy shouted picking William up in his arms, cradling his limp body tightly against his chest as he ran outside, the Governess feet behind him.

" Frances?..." Your voice trembled as your eyes blinked through the tears welled in your lashes.

" You didn't know, dear. Quick, he needs you" she beckoned you forward from the state of shock welding your feet to the ground.

With a surge of adrenaline pushing you forward and out the front door, you watched as your husband carried your son into the car as the Governess slipped into the seat beside him.

"William!" You cried, as your shaky body frantically ran to them, stumbling forward until your hands landed on the boot of the car. " I'm here...William I'm here" you sobbed as your trembling fingers guided you around the Bentley, only for the Governess to slam the door shut in your face before quickly winding the window up. " Wait, wait!" You cried banging your fists on the glass, trying to garner your husband's attention who was in his own panicked daze as he tried to ease your sons discomfort.

" Go" the Governess instructed the driver as she wrapped her arm around your husbands shoulder, flashing you a look of disgust and contempt before the car drove off in a haste, leaving you in a heap of strangled cried in the muddied grass.

An allergic reaction, something any mother would have know. Something you should have known. But you didn't. And as you watched the car speed away, you felt your body cave in on itself as the weight of the grave error you had made plunged you into the depths of the ground below you, dragging you into nothing but hopelessness and despair. You were his mother... you should have known.

Four hours had passed since your husband had rushed your son to the nearest hospital. And as you sat in the icy bath you had plunged yourself into over two hours ago, you stayed motionless, numb from the thousands of needles pricking your skin as you stared blankly at the droplets of water dripping from the tap at the end of the bath, counting them as they echoed loudly in the empty darkened room.

" Mrs Shelby! My goodness!" You'll freeze to death" Frances gasped upon entering the room, throwing the neatly folded linen in her arms to the floor before pulling the plug from the bath and you along with it.

"Is he dead? Frances... Is he dead?" your voice trembled as you snapped out of your dazed state at the feeling of a warm towel being tightly wrapped around your freezing body.

" William is well, Mam" She replied as she pulled you towards her, frantically rubbing your arms up and down in an attempt to warm your body up. " Mr Shelby is waiting for you in the nursery. He wants to speak with you"

"No. I can't, Frances...not after this. He'll kill me" you panicked as you clutched tightly onto her arm, pulling yourself and her away from the door, away from the anger you feared your husband had for you.

" He'll do nothing of the sort" she reassured your paranoid mind, slowly guiding your reluctant feet to the master bedroom to dress, and the welcoming burning fire she had lit for you.

" I do like to be beside the seaside, oh I do like to be beside the sea" you heard your husband quietly sing as William slept soundly in his arms whilst you watched from the door of the nursery. "Shh, my boy" he said, turning to see you as you shifted nervously from one foot to the other under the moonlight beaming through the windows as he placed William gently into his cot.

" I'm sorry. I...I didn't know" you sobbed quietly as your husband stood with his hands resting on his waist, his face tired and drained from the day's events.

" We need to talk" he said, raising his brow with his hand out pointing to you as he watched you step back and away from him.

" I didn't know Tommy..." you cried, slowly walking backwards until your body hit the door and your fingers frantically reached for the handle behind you as your husband stared you down.

" You gonna run, eh? That's what you do, don't you?" He said following you, his eyes challenging you with every step you took as you stumbled past the furniture of your master bedroom. "Run when things get hard..." his voice rose when you turned and bolted out the door and down the corridor. " Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed down the stairs as he ran after you, watching you push the heavy front door open into the night air. " No! I'm not gonna let you do this again!" He shouted catching up, firmly grabbing your arm as you tossed and turned in his grip.

" Tommy stop!" You screamed, pushing him off you as you stumbled back, your lungs scrambling for air from the anguished cry that had left your lips. " I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm not fit to be his mother. I could've killed him" you wept breathlessly as you clutched onto the brick wall gating your home.

"You didn't know..."

"I should have though! Why did you bring me back here, Tommy?! Why? You should have left me!" you shouted at him, hitting him across his chest, furious that he had thrown you back into the situation you once fled from after having convinced yourself your presence only brought dread and chaos to the ones you loved the most.

" Left you? You wanted me to fucking leave you?! Do you want to see what you left me with, eh?" Tommy bellowed, as he grabbed you by your arms, stopping your weak blows before dragging you by the wrist to a gated, enclosed area at the back of the house. "There. That's what you left me with" he spat, pushing you through the gate to a stoned monument adorned with carved roses cascading down it's side, your name intricately etched into the marble. " An empty fucking grave Y/N!" He yelled, the force of his words taking his breath away as his body hunched over, heaving for air.

"Tom..." You cried turning to face him, desperately reaching for him.

" Filled with your clothes, pictures of me and William. A tomb without a fucking body" he said, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the marked grave. "He cried for you every night you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do Y/N, he wanted his mother. But you were gone, dead" Tommy sniffed, letting his barrier finally drop as tears welled in his eyes, and he lulled his head back, desperately trying to get a hold on his escaping emotions. "Do you know how that felt, eh? That I couldn't take his tears away, that his own father couldn't settle him?" He said through gritted teeth letting his head drop, letting you see the depths of despair you had left him in. "Two years Y/N. Two fucking years...Why?" He finally gave into the conversation he had been avoiding for over a fortnight.

I...I couldn't cope anymore " you sobbed as you cautiously stepped closer to him with your hands out. " You were never here, I..."

" So it was my fault then?" He quickly interjected, shaking his head with a scoff.

" No! No Tommy" you hurried to correct him, gingerly reaching up to cup his cheeks as you turned his head to face you. " I needed your help. I should have asked for your help" you sniffed as you desperately searched your muddled thoughts for the answers he rightfully deserved. " I felt lost, Tommy. Confused. I didn't understand why I couldn't do what other women did so naturally, when all I've ever wanted to be, all I've ever dreamt of being was a mother. And I couldn't do it, Tommy. I couldn't fucking do it!" You broke down, your fingers grasped tightly onto the front of his shirt. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you wept loudly, your body shaking furiously from the heartache you had put both yourself and your family through with your actions.

Unable to withstand the torment of seeing the woman he loved so broken, so fragile, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he placed a pressing kiss to your head.

" You were doing it though. You couldn't see it, but you were doing everything any mother would have done, sweetheart" he sighed, threading his hand through your hair as he closed his eyes, his longing body starved of your warmth loosening in the comfort of you. "I should..." He sighed as he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze drifting past him cooling his simmering temper. " I should have been there. Done more" he said as he cupped your head to look at him. " I should have done more Y/N" he reiterated as his thumb swiped over the tears pooled above your cheeks.

" Forgive me Tommy...please" You sobbed, pressing your forehead to his as you linked your hands tightly around his neck, desperately holding out for his forgiveness.

" I've never had a reason to, darling" he sighed, cradling the side of your head against his thundering heart, his love for you beating rapidly through his chest. For as much as Tommy's troubled mind had put the brunt of your shared problems on your shoulders alone. His heart never betrayed him, never stopped loving you, never once blamed you for the troubled emotions he knew were out of your reach of control.

As you both sat down on the step of the marble headstone, you rested your tired body in your husband's strong frame as he looked up at the glittering sky, silently thanking the unknown for the peace he finally felt having you wrapped in his arms once again. But Tommy's peace would be short-lived. A storm was coming to Arrow house, its maker watching from the window of her room as her face twisted with fury, her bitter mind gleeful of the hell she would bring down on this grand house and everyone in it.

" You fool Thomas Shelby. You fool..

PART FIVE

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#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x reader insert #tommy shelby x reader #cillian murphy #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby series #peaky blinders #peaky blinders series #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x fem!reader

[lis-likes-fics]

A Deal’s a Deal

Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold!Reader Word Count: 11.7k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, swearing, smoking, oral (f and m!receiving), dom/sub themes, degradation, virgin!reader, gun kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, Tommy is mean and she wants him to be ... A/N: So this was absolutely filthy and I will not apologize. I am American, but I used to British spelling for (as many of) the words that I caught because sometimes I like it better and it also just fit more for the fic. Also, when I say “gun kink”, I mean gun kink. This is filthy shit. Who knows? I may consider writing a second... Enjoy.

Keen eyes were the first thing Tommy noticed as Aberama Gold walked onto the yard, a sly smirk set in place among blond hair and a suit likely just as expensive as his own. The way his eyes surveyed the yard, examined every inch he could without touching any of it, even stopping by Charlie for a word, made Tommy aware it was for more than just surveillance.

Aberama finally approached, his men following after with their own vigilance. "I just took a look around. I like this place," he announced. "Fire for melting silver, canal to get it away." He stopped in front of him, well out of reach but just as imposing as the growing headache Tommy felt nagging at the back of his head. "How much?"

Tommy took a long look at him, still as a statue as blue eyes pierced through blue eyes. He considered not even regarding the question, moving on to more pressing business and pretending it had never been asked, but he knew better. Arthur drank from his flask.

"Nothing you see here is for sale, Mr. Gold."

He disagreed. "Oh, everything's for sale. Everything."

Tommy pinched his cigarette between his fingers, bringing it to his lips but not quite slipping it through yet. Aberama spilled the rest of the tea in his cup into the fire, which roared with the fuel to its flames.

"You tell Mr. Strong I'm going to buy his yard." He didn't leave room for debate.

But Tommy didn't care. "This yard has been in his family since they settled." He moved the cigarette between his lips.

"But I've decided to make it a part of our deal."

There was a long pause as the men stared each other down, testing the other's strength, their tolerance of cold eyes. The sounds of metal and fire and cups on tables next to them filled the silence and fueled the suspense of a standoff.

"Charlie?" Tommy finally spoke, calling to his uncle. "Charlie, come here." He obliged with a sigh. As he stood next to him with a dirty rag to clean dirty hands, Tommy continued. "Gonna spin a coin for your yard, Charlie."

Frustration was quick to settle at his words. He dropped his hands at his sides. "You're goin' to what?"

Tommy didn't spare him a glance, never breaking contact with Aberama as he spoke. "If it's heads, Abbie here takes all of this with my blessing."

"Tommy?" Charlie warned, upset.

"And if it's tails…" he considered for a moment, gesturing to Aberama with his cigarette in hand, "I fuck your daughter, Mr. Gold."

Aberama's grin fell. Arthur laughed, a stifled laugh into his arm at the offer. Tommy's demeanour did not change.

Now, Tommy was a smart man who did his research. He knew all about Aberama Gold's family, but more specifically about his daughter—and, even more specifically, about his oldest. He knew she was a primary school teacher, how that came to be, he was sure it was with the help of her father. He knew she was Aberama's firstborn, born from another woman he'd fallen for but lost too quick to be left without love. Lastly, he knew she was without a husband, or even a suitor with the potential of wedding bells. With how beautiful you had been rumoured to be, he didn't understand it.

He was shocked he hadn't already had you yet.

"You have three daughters, I hear, and Y/N is the oldest and also the prettiest, so I'll have her. So make her part of the deal and spin against the yard." He replaced his cigarette between his lips, putting his hands in his pockets.

Arthur was still amused. The same could not be said for Charlie as he stepped closer. "Tommy, for fuck's sake."

Tommy fished for a coin in his pocket, flicking it over. "Here, you toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

He caught it easily, staring down Tommy before moving the coin in his palm to examine it thoughtfully. Then he smiled, a slow smile spreading over his lips, ready to call a bluff.

Tommy shook his head, just as serious and solemn as before as he took in his grin. "No." He shook his head, raising a finger to point at him with grim intent. "Please don't believe this is a joke, the coin to us is sacred. Yes, Arthur?"

"Sacred," Arthur agreed, his eyes as still and as menacing as his brother's.

They continued to stare. Aberama continued to think.

Tommy gave his warning. "You toss that coin, you take a bet before witnesses, and if I win…"

"Then we'll insist that the terms of this agreement…" Arthur tried again, "wager are fulfilled."

Tommy's eyes held a threat. "Toss the coin, Mr. Gold."

Aberama considered, setting the coin on the crook of his finger and propping his thumb underneath. He contemplated, debating himself and his luck silently as the sounds of metal and fire raged against the silence and pulled the tension taut. Loud, defeaning.

"Tommy Shelby, OBE," he mumbled, still considering. Tommy saw the moment of decision behind his eyes before it reached his face. The challenge, the question of "Perhaps?" warring in his mind. Aberama smiled a small smile. "I'll take your wager."

The Shelby boys tilted up their heads.

Aberama flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent into his hands and he sighed as he closed his palm and slapped it onto the back of his hand. The coin seared his flesh as he stared at Tommy, hoping to see the right side of the coin staring back at him when he unveiled the result.

They stared, tense. "Well?" Tommy raised a brow.

Aberama removed his hand.

And his luck drained as he stared down at the coin tails up to the world.

He lingered for a moment, feeling the eyes on him burning into his skin just as the coin did. "...Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," he breathed. He took the coin and showed the boys. "Tails."

Tommy's lip twitched, although it was hardly susceptible to the eye. "Tails," he repeated, his voice darker than before. He readjusted his stance, regarding Aberama as he spoke to the uncle at his side. "Go on back to work, Charlie. Your yard is safe."

Charlie stepped closer, asking the question as though he was whispering it just to him. "Are you actually going to fuck his daughter, Tom?"

Tommy still didn't look at Charlie, watching Aberama intensely, as if to remind him that this was all his fault.

People seemed to forget who he was. They seemed to forget that you shouldn't fuck around with Tommy fucking Shelby, OBE.

"A deal's a deal, Charlie," he said. "Isn't that right, Mr. Gold?"

He stared back with fire in his eyes. "Aye, Mr. Shelby."

~

The cab slowed to a stop in front of the large estate you were an expected guest in. Looking out of the window and through the dark, your stomach flipped at the prospect of the meeting you were meant to attend.

Your father had told you that the infamous Thomas Shelby was interested in meeting you. You were grading loads of papers at the time when you stopped to look at him, frozen in confusion. You asked him why and he brushed off the topic like he hadn't even brought it up, giving you a time and date and leaving it at that.

And now you're here, staring at his house and feeling the anxiety of how this evening would go as you stepped out of the car and watched him drive off. You fixed your dress, straightened your spine, and released a breath before beginning the looming evening with a walk up to the door through the dark, guided only by the lamps outside.

You clicked the knocker three times, waiting with your clutch held tightly in front of you. As the door was pulled open, you were somehow relieved to be met with an older woman. Though her blue eyes were shocking and her quirked brow was intimidating, she offered a kind smile and you were put to ease.

You really shouldn't have been as anxious as you were. You were a Gold and a gypsy—if something bad was going to happen to you, you would know and you wouldn't be there in the first place.

But this was Thomas Shelby, and you were terrified. He was rumoured to be the devil himself.

The woman opened the door wider. "Hello." She looked you up and down before stepping aside. "Come in."

You thanked her quietly, walking into the house and glancing around. It was nice. "How may I help you this late in the night?" she wondered, clasping her hands behind her as she awaited your answer.

"Um…" You smiled bashfully but not without the air of respect you've grown into and been taught to demand. "I don't actually know why I'm here. My father, Aberama Gold, sent me to see Tommy Shelby. I am to have an appointment with him?"

She hummed, "Of course. Wait here while I go fetch him." She began to walk off before correcting herself, looking back at you with a respectful smile. "Would you like a cup of tea while you wait?"

"No, thank you."

She left.

You stood in the foyer, twiddling your thumbs atop your clutch as your heart skips in your chest. With a calming breath, you steadied yourself, closing your eyes and waiting patiently.

You swung a foot out, taking a step forward as you wandered farther down the hall to see inside the main room. It was large, decorated sparsely with paintings and tiny statuettes. You didn't get a good look.

When she came back, she was not alone. Turning at the sound of shoes descending stairs, you saw him.

He still wore a suit. Although his jacket was removed, his timepiece was still in place connected to its chain. His sleeves were rolled up—you weren't sure why you noticed that so clearly.

He stared at you with a cigarette between his lips as his cold, blue eyes pierced your soul. Your heart jumped again. Anxious.

He watched you, looking you up and down and taking you in. He brought his hand up to remove his cigarette from between his lips, releasing a long, smoky breath. The look in his eyes shook you.

"Thank you, Mary." His voice was deep as it rumbled in his chest. "You can go to bed now."

Mary looked you up and down briefly. She bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

You didn't break eye contact with Tommy as she ascended the stairs. Even when she was completely gone, he didn't look away. The intensity of his gaze was hard to keep up.

You looked away.

"Come," he finally spoke, walking down the rest of the stairs and meeting you. He lingered in front of you for a moment, as if he just wanted a closer look, before continuing to move. You willed your feet to do so, following slowly behind him.

He took you to his study just off from the main room, pushing the door open to allow you inside. You entered silently, glancing along the room to take it in. He had a library, a burning fireplace, plenty of sofas, and a large wall of windows. The drapes were already drawn for the night, and the large room was illuminated by a small chandelier. You set your purse on the nearest table.

You watched Tommy walk toward his desk in front of the windows. He leaned on it, crossing one leg in front of the other. He stared at you again, and you quickly became frustrated with his gaze as you sighed gently and stood across from him, keeping plenty of distance.

Silence stretched on as he continued to stare and smoke, and you were growing impatient as you stared back. The longer he watched you, unyielding, the more you felt the need to squirm. It was only when you broke his eye contact again, like you had before on the stairs, that he decided to speak.

"Do you know why you're here, Miss Gold?" he asked.

Now that this was finally going somewhere, you sighed. "Y/N, and no," you replied.

He raised his brows. "What did your father tell you, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "That you wanted to meet me and nothing else." His vagueness was really beginning to frustrate you after enduring all of that staring. Why had he stared for so long?

Tommy hummed deep in his chest, looking you up and down with a little nod of his head. He put it bluntly as he gestured toward you with his cigarette. "Your father lied."

It was your turn to raise your brows. "I'm sorry?"

Tommy reached behind him to put his cigarette out, stifling it against the ashtray on his desk. "Your father flipped a coin for a bit of property and lost. In return," he looked at you again, speaking slowly, "he gave you to me to fuck."

Your heart was slamming into your ribcage at the knowledge. Images of such a thing flashed behind your eyes, and your throat went dry. You looked down at your shoes for a moment, blinking rapidly as you stretched your jaw. "I-I don't understand," you confessed, releasing a humourless chuckle and licking your lips. "He… he wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?" he shrugged. When you didn't reply, he furrowed his brows. "Why else would you be here?"

You still didn't respond. He allowed you to process, though part of you felt like he was enjoying all of this, and you did not.

The anticipation started at your heart and spread through your body as it made a home in your chest, curling and writhing there in a bundle of anxious energy.

You swallowed thickly, "Are you going to hurt me, Mr. Shelby?"

He considered your question, mumbling quietly to himself as though he was mocking you, "Am I going to hurt you?" His eyes raked over your body, considering something silently in his head before he spoke again. "Come here."

You didn't move, otherwise frozen in place as you stared at him. Your disobedience seemed to astound him for a moment as he raised his dark brows and pointed to his shoes. "Here. Now." His voice was deeper with the command. He left no room for defiance.

Your body responded before your mind, not eager to see what would happen if you refused a second time. Your feet took you carefully toward him, slow steps treading the space between you until you were hardly a foot apart from him. His expression seemed to ease then, just enough to tell you that you were close enough now.

He took in your face from this distance. You could almost feel his breath. He spoke to you in a low voice, one that rumbled deep in his chest and resonated with you.

"I am a devil, but I'm no monster." Where you expected a crook of his finger to lift your chin, he gave you his hand to take a hold of your jaw and pull you close. "I won't force myself upon you, but if you agree to this, I will not be gentle. So, yes… I am going to hurt you."

You didn't respond—you couldn't. His words echoed in your mind and your mind warred with your body over what you would do in response and, thus, created none. You were frozen, staring at him as he held your face in a slight grip and held your attention in a much tighter one. You forget the fire burning smoke up its chimney. You forget the rows and rows of books lining the shelves of the office. You forget the clothes on your back, for his stare had stripped you bare for him to see.

He let go of your face, but you were not sure how well your brain registered that as you lingered in the same position, gripped in the same attention.

"If you want to leave," he said after a moment, "you'd better walk out of that door right now under the lie that the wager between your father and me was fulfilled. Hell, I'll even make you a cup of tea while you wait, and you can be on your way."

You considered that option. It would be like you never even came—except you did. And you knew you did. The stain of his stare, the hole he had burned into your clothes, into your skin, would never wash away. You would feel it every hour of every day as a reminder of the time you met the Tommy Shelby and lived not to tell the tale.

"But if you stay…" the corner of his lip twitched up at the idea, his pupils darkened and his voice deepened, "you're not leaving until I say you can." Even with their simplicity, his words made you shiver.

"Now, I will ask you once and one time only…" he leaned forward, his head very slightly tilted, his nose nearly brushing yours, "Are you leaving?"

As if you could say no with him this close to you. As if you could say anything with him this close to you.

Your options were idiotic.

Leave and live with the memories you gained here—the closeness, the silent obedience, the cold stare you could never wash from your soul. You would always feel it, feel him. He would never go away, plaguing your mind like a ghost of what could have been.

Or…you could stay. You could stay here and see what happened. You could let him ravage you, let him tear you apart and lick at your flesh and bone as he took you under his primal gaze. You could succumb to the ice in his eyes and let the burn of his touch mix together in some powerful, searing concoction. You would never wash his stain off, no matter how hard you scrubbed, but some part of you was alright with that.

And Tommy seemed to see that in your eyes.

He was amused as he shook his head, leaning back and away from you. He was teasing, you knew it now, heavily amused by the tiny reactions he earned from you as he pulled away to make you suffer a hint of withdrawal. It was with that distance that you realised you'd fallen in his trap, gone in too deep to turn back and be rescued from this tragic and ungodly addiction.

"No, you're not," he said—and, for a moment, you forget what he was talking about. "I can see it in your eyes, the same look your father had before he flipped that coin. You want to know what'll happen if you stay."

You seemed to snap out of it almost as you took a step back, establishing a bit more space as he revealed things you didn't want revealed. In doing so, you proved his point.

"You know exactly what happens if you leave. You go back to your regular life as a school teacher with siblings and a father to take care of." He chuckled silently, and you clenched your teeth. "No, you want to see how far this will go."

He raked his eyes over you for the hundredth time, and he knew the rumours were true. Pretty eyes, pretty lashes, pretty lips, pretty blushy cheeks. There was not a flaw on you that he could see. You were a beauty, an unconquered beauty he intended not to leave uncharted.

You looked away from him, glancing down between your feet and your hands and anywhere but his face as you processed his words, digesting them for what they were—the ugly truth you wished you could throw a blanket back over, swept back under the rug and hidden from view.

Tommy tilted his head as something dawned on him.

"Are you a virgin, Y/N?"

You kept your eyes on the ground, like you were watching his shoes—which you probably are—and shook your head. "I change my mind. You can call me Miss Gold." He could almost laugh at the idea, in fact, he almost did laugh. You brought yourself to look at him, your eyes stern with poorly hidden dismay. "And if I was?"

It made sense. No husband, no suitor, no time for one anyway. His lip lifted very slightly in the corner, and it felt like he was laughing at you. "The proper phrasing is 'and if you are?'" He leaned in, taunting you. "Because you are, Y/N."

You huffed to keep your eyes from fluttering at the effect he had on you. "How do you know?" you asked, doing your best not to sound as upset as you were. Your best was very poor.

He breathed a silent chuckle. "Because if I say the word 'sex'..."

You licked your lips and shifted your weight to your other leg, realising your mistake as soon as you made it but not showing it. You glanced away from him, and that was when you showed the realisation of your second mistake.

He pointed at you, ever amused. "You do that."

You thought for a moment over a way to say your next words without confessing anything—even if you knew it would be rendered unnecessary, as he seemed to read you like an open book.

"What if I did want to see what would happen?"

He inclined his head, lifting a brow. A small huff of a breath made up a tiny chuckle at your words. "Look at you," he said. "A good girl so bored she wants a go with a gangster."

You shrugged a shoulder. "All my family's gangsters and gypsies. It's in my blood."

He stared at you, cold and frozen like a statue. You stared back, gaze darting from eye to eye.

"In your blood," he muttered to himself.

You had no time to process what happened next. All you felt was his hand on the back of your neck and then your cheek against the cold wood of his desk. You groaned at the suddenness of it, stunning you completely—especially when his body pressed against the back of yours, crushing you against the desk and keeping you there.

Your breath was erratic, your pulse loud in your ears. Everything had happened so quickly, you were still catching up. The only thing that grounded you was the cold shock of something against the back of your head and the cock of a gun in your ears.

It was all suddenly very real—the anticipation, the suspense. You held your breath.

"Maybe I lied," he rasped in your ear, his voice just as dangerous as his gun to your head. "Maybe I want to see what's in your blood instead, eh?"

Your lips parted as shallow breaths passed between them, loud in your ears but likely nearly silent to him. You swallowed hard, frightened and exhilarated. "You're not going to kill me, Mr. Shelby."

"Oh, yeah? Why is that?" He seemed to press the gun even closer, trying to scare you some more. But you were a Gold, and guns to heads were not as effective to you as it might have been to someone else from a family that wasn't yours.

"Because you want to see what will happen."

Surprised by your answer, he scoffed. "Maybe you are a whore." He pushed his hips harder into you, thus pushing you harder against the desk. The edge of the wood cut into your thighs, aching and proving very uncomfortable. A strained breath grunted from you.

You smiled slyly, looking back at him as best you could. "Which is it?" you chuckled, "Whore or virgin?"

He took pause, shaking his head as he uncocked the gun. "No," he chuckled darkly. "Just a twisted little girl who gets off to guns at her head."

Your smirk dropped, amusement gone at his words. You furrow your brow, thoroughly upset that he would accuse you of something so crude. "I don't."

"No?" he asked before leaning in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear and making you shiver. "Then why are you so wet?"

You stilled. You hadn't realised it until he said it, the wetness between your thighs, the arousal hiding beneath your thundering pulse. That tingling sensation of simmering lust was now weighing down on you like an anvil, a terrible sentence you wanted to escape but found yourself physically incapable of. Your legs trembled, but you couldn't tell if it was from the ice or the fire rushing through your veins. God forbid it be both.

Your silence made him smirk against your ear. "You really are," he scoffed again. "That was just a guess, sweetheart."

You huffed, doing everything you could to avoid clenching your thighs. With how close he was to you, his body pressed against you so tightly, he'd surely feel it. The shame was thick enough as it was.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He was not fazed by your aggression. "I intend to."

With a sudden burst of defiance, you pushed yourself up from the desk, turning around to face him. Your faces were so close, breathing in each other's scent as the both of you refused to back down. You heard him uncock his gun, tossing it onto the table behind you without breaking eye contact.

"This isn't the first time I've had a gun to my head, nor will it be the last," you told him. "And it's definitely not the first time a man's expressed his desire to fuck me."

"But it's the first time he's been able to, eh? Because before you had Daddy's protection." His hand landed on your waist, roughly pulling you toward him so your bodies were touching. It was useless to try to hide to fluster he put you in, but you did your best anyway. His voice was nearly a growl. "Well, where is he now?"

You shook your head, breathing shallow breaths. "I don't need his protection."

His smirk was small and taunting as he stared at you, his eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

"You do from me."

His lips crashed down upon yours as he pulled you close. Your surprised gasp was cut off, silenced by his harsh kiss. The feeling was foreign but not entirely unwelcome. Even as the force of his lips had his teeth smashing yours, cutting into the top of your own lip and greeting you with the taste of blood, you welcomed it.

You kissed back, moving your lips with his and following his lead but doing no more than that. Even if you had already compromised yourself, it would help not to encourage him.

When he pulled away from you, you chased his lips and felt the shame of it hot on your cheeks. He smiled at your eagerness, even chuckled at your breathlessness as he shook his head.

"My, my," he goaded. "You really do want this, you twisted little whore."

You shivered at his words and still denied. "And if I don't?" you countered, practically staring at his pink lips and proving him right.

He shook his head. "You should've walked out that door."

He kissed you again, silencing you once more until his lips had a moan clawing up your throat. He placed a hand on your chest, pulling you forward just a slight from turning you in one arm and shoving you back.

You stumbled backward, catching your footing again as you stared at him between the long distance he had put between the both of you. It surprised you and now you were trying to put your mind back in order, as though it hadn't been scrambled enough from his kiss.

"If you want to go so badly, prove it to me." He pointed to the door, urging you to leave with dark eyes and darker words. "Run. Run away, before I catch you."

You stared at him, catching your breath and contemplating. He was giving you one last chance for an out, one last chance to turn away and forget about tonight.

But you could never forget what happened here, especially not now, and not ever. Staring back at his dangerous eyes, you made your choice, knowing there was no turning back.

So you would prove that you wanted to stay as you trudged the distance between you and closed it with your lips on his, addicted to the taste of him—the taste of danger and intrigue and all things twisted in the world.

His hand cupped the back of your head as he opted to devour you, allowing your fingers to work at the buttons of his vest to remove it. You gasped into his mouth and made your decision before your inexperience could talk you out of it, separating from his lips only to kneel down before him with your eyes locked on his.

Amazed by your initiative, he encouraged you by leaning his hips out as you worked at his belt. You fumbled for a moment too long before you finally got his trousers open, finally reaching what you were aiming for as you pulled him from his underwear.

You stared wide-eyed at him as you took in the sight of his cock, the tip flushed red and the vein along the underside pulsing with his well-disguised lust. You looked up at him, finding him staring back down at you with those cold, dark eyes.

"Well, go on then," he mumbled as you continued to stare, conflicted between different courses of action.

Your body heat seemed to rise at the realisation that you were staring like a fool. You swallowed thickly, reaching a hand up and wrapping it gently around him, gliding your thumb along his tip and feeling a little more confident when his unyielding eyes fluttered. You continued on, rubbing your thumb at the head of him before stroking your fist along the length of him, up and down in a steady rhythm as you navigated what he liked and didn't like.

One of his hands cupped the back of your neck, urging you forward as your face pressed into his hips with the warmth of his cock on your cheek. Slowly, you kissed it, your lips gliding along the length as you took in the unfamiliar sensation. You slipped your tongue through your lips, licking along the side until you reached his flushed tip. Kissing the slit at the head of his cock, the bead of pre-cum there spread over your lips as you darted your tongue out to lick it.

You opened your mouth at the taste, setting his tip on your tongue and shivering at the feeling as you closed your lips around it. You built yourself up for it as you felt his heavy stare at the top of your head, bobbing your head slowly back and forth as you took the smallest bit more with each comeback. As he reached the back of your tongue, that tickling feeling in your throat began to tease you before the threat of gagging became too much to try to pass through.

By now, his cock was glistening with your saliva. As you looked up at him with eyes beginning to tear from your efforts, he stared back, lost in the pathetically illusioned look on your face. "You can't be done already," he said, his fingers tangling in your hair.

You spoke breathlessly, "Tommy–"

"No," he shook his head. "Not Tommy. You call me 'sir' while you're sat there on your knees with my cock in your mouth. You understand?"

You took in his authority, deciding whether or not you would listen. You began to scoff, "I'm not–"

"You will," he said finally, giving you that look that demanded respect. You knew, staring at him now, that he held the key to your pleasure. If you wanted to feel good, you would have to obey. As much as that annoyed you, it thrilled you all the same as he continued to look down on you like he was.

Your jaw ached with resentment, but you knew it was a front, you fighting the submission you were not meant to have. But you wanted it. You wanted him to break you down to some common whore, to strip you of your importance as a Gold and turn you into his plaything. But it was so firmly embedded, you would just have to keep fighting against it.

But that didn't matter right now, not with you on your knees with his cock in your hand.

"I can't do it…sir," you replied.

He raised a brow. "Can't do what?"

He was taunting you, insulting you by trying to make you say something you didn't want to say. It sat on your tongue like venom. Admitting what you classified as "it" felt like a new kind of torture.

"What is it you can't do, eh?" he questioned, even smirking at you like he knew he held all the cards. Because he did.

"I can't…" you swallowed thickly, bowing your head.

"No, no," he tsked, lifting your head with his hand in your hair to force you to look at him. And he wasn't lying before—he wouldn't be gentle. "Look at me and tell me what you can't do."

You huffed, speaking in a squeak of a voice. "Can't… take it all."

"What was that?"

"I can't take it all," you repeated, not yelling but not whispering either.

He smiled at you then, an evil, nasty smile that you wanted to wipe from his face. "That's all?" he questioned, laughing when you broke his eye contact. "Well, sure you can. Let me show you."

The exchange was promptly ended as his hand in your hair guided your head back to him as you took his cock in your mouth again, and he pushed you down, inch by inch, back onto him. You felt his tip pushing into your mouth, deeper and deeper on your tongue until he brushed the back of your throat. You gagged around him, feeling the sensations of the invasion rushing down your spine, resting in your belly and tingling all over.

As your nose brushed against his pelvic bone, your eyes welled up as tears spilled over your cheeks. He shushed you as you gagged on his cock, your throat adjusting around the intrusion. His hips bucked a couple of times, pushing his cock further until he could go no deeper. When he pulled out, you took as much air into your burning lungs as possible before you were interrupted by a few coughs.

As much as you wanted to slap him for the assault on your throat, one look at the pleasure on his face calmed the fire of frustration and fed the ache of arousal between your legs.

"Don't– do that again," you huffed, still catching your breath as you leaned forward on your knees to take him into your hot mouth again. You didn't go nearly as far again as you licked along his length, suckling around his cock and laving your tongue along his tip and the vein on the underside.

"The hell I won't," he mumbled, not the biggest fan of your telling him what to do but not necessarily put off by the idea. His hand remained a tangled mess in your hair as you continued to suck and lick and kiss.

You weren't expecting it when he pushed you down the second time, but at least you knew what to expect as you shut your eyes tight and took it, accepting the twisted pleasure that blossomed in your belly until he pulled out of your mouth again, keeping you back as he groaned.

You wiped your mouth off, staring at him with wet eyes and breathing through an open mouth. A deep breath exhaled from his lungs as he hoisted you to your feet, searching out your lips to bring you into another kiss. He turned you both around and pressed your back into his desk as he continued to kiss you roughly, pushing you back until you collapsed on the dark wood.

You gasped in surprise but barely had time to process as his lips continued to attack yours. His hands grasped the neckline of your dress, encouraging shivers down your spine. When he suddenly ripped and ripped at your clothes tearing them off you like a beast, you gasped and watched him turn your dress to rags.

It wasn't long before you were bare in front of him, save for the pantyhose hiding nothing from him. Then those were gone, too. Your hands instinctively flew to your body, trying to cover yourself up. There was really no reason for modesty, not now that you had already seen his cock and had it shoved down your throat, but this was entirely new and you would have rather liked a warning beforehand.

"Don't cover yourself now," he said as he entwined his hands with your own and pulled them away, spreading you out to see every inch of you with those hungry eyes. Your body trembled with the feeling of his eyes on your bare skin. You squeezed your eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the mix of emotions ruling you.

Where some would take pity, Tommy just smiled darkly and tsked gently as he leaned forward and began kissing your neck. Your mouth fell open as your eyes fluttered to see him. A slight moan caught in your throat escaped at the sensation of lips to skin and your hands struggled where he restrained them, wanting to touch him again.

His kisses were not so patient after a moment as teeth began to scrape skin, sucking and nibbling on flesh in order to mark uncharted territory. The pleasure it gave him to know that no man had ever done this to you before was intense, driving him crazy with lust, a desire to claim you as his hips cant into your own, pushing you further into the desk and otherwise hurting you—if you had not been so preoccupied with his kiss.

You moaned into the air when his hand tightened around your thigh, squeezing roughly as he groped and kneaded the flesh. His other hand busied itself around your throat and tilted your head off to the side, sitting securely there but not quite squeezing the same. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist nonetheless, though you didn’t know whether you were trying to make him stop or keeping his hand there, wrapped around your throat and effectively putting him in charge.

The hand on your thigh travelled up, smoothing along your skin until he reached your hip. It never stayed there, moving back down as his fingers brushed over your exposed cunt. Your breath stopped in your throat when you felt his fingers ghosting over your lips and gasped when you felt his middle finger slip between them before biting down hard on your lip in an attempt to silence yourself.

His lips brushed your ear as he spoke in his low tones. “You like being touched by me? Eh?” A whimper left your throat when his finger pressed into you, pushing past your folds and into the warm, wet feeling inside of you. You clenched around it, the feeling foreign and but so good. "You're practically a whore now. I did buy ya after all—cost me a penny."

Your legs trembled as he stretched you out around his finger, a second playing at your pussy before carefully joining the other. "A penny?" you stuttered. "I personally think I'd be worth at least two."

"Well, let's see then," he said, lifting his brows as he pulled his finger out of you.

You whimpered, granting him an annoyed expression at the absence of his touch so soon. "See what?"

"If you taste good enough for two pennies."

You stared at him as his lips kissed your chest, sucking on your nipples on the way down and continuing on down to your thighs. A shocked yelp came from you when he bared his teeth around a chunk of flesh, only soothed when he kissed over it.

He gripped your thighs and pulled them over his shoulders, taking your hips in his hands and pushing himself up so your body was nearly folded in half. He didn't stall you at all as he buried his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your folds as he shoved his tongue between them.

Your head flew backward, banging against the table. You hardly noticed, even with the full throb at the back of your head, the slight dizziness in your brain. Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in dark strands and tugging him forward. His tongue was just as skilled here, commanding your body to his every will, as it was during his speeches while he commanded armies of men to join in his cause or to intimidate against their own.

One hand left your hip to play with your cunt, toying with your clit. He pushed two fingers into your fluttering hole, swirling his tongue around your clit as you moaned for him to continue.

"Fuck," you mewled, closing your legs around his head and digging your heels into his back. He didn't seem to care, not until you messed up. "Please don't stop, Tommy."

But he did. His fingers and tongue retreated as he pulled back, straightening his back and letting one leg fall from his shoulder, though he kept the other firmly held to his chest.

You whined, looking at him with shallow breath. You watched him lick his kiss-swollen lips as he stared at you with black eyes. The emotions in your belly swirled between lust and frustration and fear and intrigue. He was so intimidating and you wanted more. You wanted him to keep kissing you, to keep dragging his tongue along your wet pussy. But you also wanted him to push you into the floor and take you from behind, his hips slapping into you, his hand planting your cheek against the cold floor, his mouth whispering filthy things in your ear.

"Please," you whimpered, too desperate to care about how pathetic you sounded.

He lifted a brow, saying nothing and staring. When you tried to sit up to reach his face, he pressed a hand into your chest and pushed you down roughly, leaning forward himself to paralyse you with his dangerous glare. Even with his hand on your chest, you tried to sit up still to kiss his pretty lips but he wouldn't let you. Your thigh ached from the position.

"Please," you whispered again, a broken moan as the lack of pleasure became too much, welling in your chest and making your body tremble.

He tilted his head.

You let out a shaky breath, moving your free leg outward to spread yourself even wider for him. "Please, sir," you concede. "Please keep going. I want it."

He didn't continue. His eyes bore into yours and you shuddered. With a gentle huff, you handed over the last of your dignity. "Please, sir, I need it."

He lingered there for a moment longer before smirking. You thought he was going to kiss you when he leaned forward, but instead he took your bottom lip between his teeth and but down before returning to his previous position between your legs.

He began again with the same intensity, devouring you as though you were his last meal. You whimpered and moaned and cried from the pleasure he forced into you. As he shoved his fingers into you, spreading them apart and thus stretching you wider, suckling on your clit and kneading it with his tongue, a coil tightened in your belly as everything seemed to follow.

Your moans built to whining breaths—too high and pitchy to be real—but genuine nonetheless. He didn't let up or slow down, drunk on the taste of you and too far gone to stop just yet, not without his reward.

The warm, wet feeling of his mouth became too much, the suckling of his lips even moreso. You squeezed your eyes tight, arching your back as a loud moan ripped from your throat. Your breath was rough and forceful as it rasped in and out of your throat, and your hands clenching in his hair tugged and tugged as his tongue continued to work. The pleasure took siege of your body, attacking every nerve ending until you were naught but a pile of flesh and blood and bone.

The high slowly descended to bring you back to Tommy Shelby's study, his tongue at your pussy a distant sensation in the back of your mind before it burnt with oversensitivity. You tugged at his hair, grunting as you pulled his head away to catch your breath.

His chin glistened and his lips were plump with blood as he stared at your recuperating body. He pulled his fingers from your fluttering pussy, taking them between his lips to taste you.

"Too much?" he asked, not in any way sensitive as he stared. "What, it feels too good, it hurts?" All you could do was nod. He breathed a laugh. "Have you ever touched yourself before, love?"

You didn't have it in you to be shy as you shook your head. He didn't take that answer this time—not humiliating enough, you supposed.

"Eh?" he urged, lightly smacking your arse to get a proper answer.

You grunted, shaking your head. "No, sir."

"That's your first time cumming then," he said more than asked, watching your dazed eyes slowly return to the dull bite of their natural rebellion—though he knew he broke you down enough for it to be too weak to matter.

He still awaited an answer. "Yes, sir," you obliged.

"Well, congratulations," he said. "Most men don't know how to please, so most women don't get to cum."

You disregarded his comment, still stuck on the aftershocks of pleasure as your eyes wandered the room. You whimpered when he licked you again, suckling around your clit and earning a jerk from your body.

He sat up, moving your legs off his shoulders like they were nothing important to him. He wrapped a hand at the base of your skull and pulled you up to sit. "Come here," he said, bringing you close to his face. "Have a taste."

He pulled you forward and crashed his lips against yours, too rough but just as amazing as all the rough ones he'd given before. The taste of you was strange but addictive as you came back for more, even as he pulled you away.

Tommy backed away from you, leaving you bare and hot on the desk. His hair was a mess, and he licked his lips again. He gestured toward you. "Stand up." You did as you were told, steadying yourself on unsteady feet. "Turn around."

As you obeyed, he came up behind you and pushed you onto the desk again, just as he'd done before. You grunted at the impact and clenched your thighs at the effect it had on you. You hated how good it made you feel, his treating you so roughly, without a care to just how rough. You hated even more how much rougher you wanted him to be.

Your prayers may have been met with extremity when you felt his gun to your head again as he spoke into your ear.

"I could kill you," he considered, pressing the gun further.

Your heart kicked up, and the adrenaline took over as his unwavering voice promised your demise. You held back your moan and responded, "But you won't."

"Why not?"

"You need me," you insisted. He laughed. "It's true. You kill me, well I'm Daddy's favourite. There'll be war. You make me go, I'll just keep coming back to finish it. You fuck me now, your wager is fulfilled and you get to fuck a virgin. What man doesn't want that, eh?"

Oh, you were good. Even if he was going to kill you, your words were enough to persuade him otherwise. He pressed the gun into your temple and the clicking sound of him clocking it reverberated in your ear. You moaned a long, deep moan as you clenched your thighs tightly together.

He smiled, laughing quietly to himself as he shook his head. "A proper whore, you are."

"Then fuck me, sir. That's the purpose of a whore, isn't it?" You gripped the edge of the table when he pushed his hips into you, aching that same spot on your thighs from before and making your lust all the worse.

He lingered, the cold barrel cocked and ready. You held your breath and awaited his decision before he removed it from your head. You sighed gently, missing his warmth when he stepped away from you.

Your hips jolted when the cold tip of his gun pressed to your pussy, spreading your lips apart to see you still wet for him. With the gun still cocked, your heart pounded against your ribcage and you felt the anxiety building deliciously in your body. He hummed, considering something in his head. You stayed as still as possible, certain your breath was loud as you wondered what he was thinking.

You heard him kneel, hyperaware of every sound he made behind you. His hand nudged the other side before he was leaning forward to taste you again.

You whimpered. "You're a dirty whore for being this wet," he said. You bit down on your lip.

He stood again and bent himself over your body. "You got my gun dirty," he tutted, shaking his head like he was scolding you as he shoved the barrel in your face. You could see your arousal gleaming off of it, shaking at the sight of it so close. "Clean it up."

You didn't move, paralyzed by fear. He didn't like that. "Clean. It. Up."

You let out a wavering breath, "Yes, sir." You leaned forward slowly, not even certain you were actually moving, and stuck your tongue out the slightest bit. You shut your eyes, making contact with the gun and a tiny whine slipped.

He watched you do as you were told, licking your slick from his gun and loving every second. A tear slipped down your cheek, slow and beautiful. He kissed it from your skin as you cleaned the gun.

When he deemed that you'd done well enough, he uncocked it and put it away. Your body relaxed, all of the pent up energy inside of you calming a slight as the threat of so much danger lifted from you.

He slipped his hand around your throat and leaned into your ear again. "Such a good girl, crying for me" he husked in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream."

You felt the head of his cock push between your folds, coating himself in your slick, and there was plenty to go around. He straightened his spine as he took a hold of your hips, just as rough as you were expecting, before he shoved his cock into you. You moaned loudly as the harsh drag of his cock invaded your cunt, stretching you out around him.

"Fuck," you cried, gripping the desk harder. He held you steady as he fucked into your tight pussy, snapping his hips in and out of you without sparing a second for you to adjust. The slick you'd gathered would have to do.

You clenched down on him, thighs aching and trembling and becoming too much already as the tears built in your eyes.

Chants and cries of "yes" and "more" and "harder" spilled from your mouth and into the air, a loud and filthy cacophony of blasphemous praise. He held you down and he held you still, dominating your body as your new god as he ruined you for any man.

"You want more? Sure you do, so desperate for a fuck," he taunted, his harsh words accompany the harsh smacks of his hips. It was loud and continuous and it felt so good. "Such a dirty little thing, filthy and twisted. You like having a gun to your head, you like me being mean to ya. Where's all that pride gone, eh?"

The tears streamed down your face, decorating you in a way that Tommy could only describe as "beautiful".

"That's right. Cry for me, little whore," he grunted.

You did. Your thighs hurt and your throat is sore and your fingers ache from grasping the desk so hard, but you cried for him and the overwhelming pleasure, a depraved sound he fed from.

One of his hands left your hip to toy with your clit as he pressed his chest to your back. He bit the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, cruel and uncaring, before kissing the spot like an absent-minded apology. Your voice was raspy as he drew quick circles at your clit, chasing your next high as though it were unattainable.

And who knows? With Tommy, it might be.

"More," you begged, despite the loss of breath in your lungs, despite the haze of your mind. You chased the pleasure, pleading for it to swallow you whole as you took all that he gave you. "Please, sir, more." He cursed under his breath.

That crashing high from before curled in your belly again, hot and searing, like molten lava. You shuddered when it erupted, squeezing around his cock as you nearly sobbed. "Ahh, fuck!" Your head went fuzzy at the sensations as you gushed around him, sucking him in tighter.

Tommy grunted, his hips stilling before he pulled out of you. You thought he was done, but he seemed far from it as he wrapped his arm around your midsection, lifting you from the table and turning. You thought he was heading for the sofa, instead he lowered you to the ground on your hands and knees, which shook with the aftershocks of an orgasm you were still recovering from.

He pressed down on your back, pushing you onto the floor so your hips were angled up. He grasped your waist, smacking your arse once and earning a cut-off shriek.

He steadied you before burying his cock in you once more, sighing from the warmth your body provided. You whimpered at the feeling so fresh after cumming, slowly adjusting to the pleasure as he fucked into you with the insistence of a starved man.

Once you settled into it again, you moaned into the sensitivity, easing the rock of his hips rubbing you against the floor with your palms planted on the wood. It was cold and hard but the way his cock brushed in and out of you was so electric that you didn't care.

"There we are," he said, guiding your hips quickly as he pulled you in against him. "Fucked on the ground where you belong. Don't you agree?"

You struggled with nodding—though you knew he wouldn't accept it anyway. "Yes, s– Ah!– sir." He rutted into you, his thrusts almost animalistic, and he kept on.

He leaned forward, bracing one hand next to your head as you reached out to grab it. His breath was loud in your ear, full of broken moans disguised as heavy grunts.

"Good," mewled. "Feels good, sir."

"Yeah?" he asked, a particularly harsh slap making you whimper. "You want more, you pathetic whore?"

"Please, sir."

"So polite all of a sudden," he spoke breathlessly.

When he pulled out of you again, you thought you'd scream. But he eased you up to flip you onto your back, standing on his knees and staring down on you. You watched him unbutton his shirt, undoing each button one by one until he was able to shed it from his arms. You stared at the bare skin of his chest, taking in his tattoos, his muscles, the light patch of hair.

Grabbing you by your legs, he pulled you into his lap after leaning back. He set your legs over his shoulders once more, guiding himself back into you before he leaned forward. Your legs ached from being put in this position so much—but hell if you cared, because when he seated himself fully inside of you, the moan you left out was deep and guttural. He reached so much deeper than before, brushing a spot inside of you that set your body ablaze.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close as his hips snapped into yours. His thrusts were shorter in this position, grinding into you and brushing that spot over and over and over again. You whined and moaned through every moment of it, your eyes tearing up and the tension in your muscles building.

Your hand splayed out over his cheek as you tilted his head toward your face, wanting to watch him as he fucked into you. His eyes gazed at you, the intimidation from before not quite as cruel as it melted into the intimacy of the moment. His forehead pressed against yours and you breathed in each other's air as he shoved your hips together.

The sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you were intoxicating, filling the air with a filthy cadence that mixed with the carnal pleas on your tongue and the raucous groans on his.

"Look at you," he said, planting his hand next to your head once more as the other held your hips up for the right angle. "So desperate, pathetically beautiful."

You gave him a drunk smile, looking between his eyes and lips. "You think… I'm beautiful?"

He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless, shutting you up with a rough thrust. Your head fell back and exposed your neck, which he graciously nipped between his teeth.

You yelped when the pad of his thumb pressed against your clit again, sinking into a breathy moan as you looked between your bodies to see it. You looked back up at Tommy, allowing him to do as he pleased with your body, succumbing to his touch.

"Fuck," you breathed, clenching around him at the feeling of your aching clit being stimulated again. You weren't sure you could cum again, but to hell if you weren't going to try.

Your arms wrapped around his back as your nails took root in his shoulders, scraping down his flesh to find purchase for the overwhelming passion. The sound Tommy made was nearly a moan, which he covered with a hiss as he clenched his teeth.

You kissed him, lips bruising, teeth clicking, tongues flicking as you drank the pleasure. "I'm gonna cum again, sir."

He raised his brows, though his rhythm was wearing. "Oh, you think so, do you?"

You corrected yourself, kissing him again to add in your favour. "Please, sir, can I cum again?"

His grin was almost sinister as he regarded you. You were learning, and fast. His unsteady hips rocked you back and forth on the ground, and his breath was timed with each little thrust. You could tell he was going to lose it, so close to joining you as you encouraged him by clenching and squeezing, sucking him into your cunt and getting him addicted to it.

"Fuck, yes. Go on and cum for me, sweetheart," he groaned, giving you the permission you needed as the pleasure washed over you like a wave of fire.

Your back arched, your weak moan stuttered in your throat, and you couldn't help but utter his name as the ecstasy shook you. Your cunt fluttered around him, and your moan continued until it melted to helpless little whimpers which then dissolved into each breath.

Tommy buried his face in the crook of your neck when he came after you, growling in your ear and his muscles tensed under your hands. His hips rutted into you, sinking in nice and deep and putting you in a position that would have been fairly uncomfortable, had you not been so devoured by his deep fucking that you hardly even noticed. All you could feel was the pressure of his body on yours and the feeling of his hot seed spilling into you, your cunt so tight around his cock that you milked every drop.

Slowly, his muscles loosened and his grip on your hip let up. He sighed, a long, deep sigh that released the rest of his tension as he began to straighten his back again. You stopped him, wrapping your hand around the back of his head and pulling him down for one more kiss. This one was so soft, a slow kiss that rendered your body useless. Everything was limp and lazy as the tender kiss changed the entire dynamic of the night.

It lasted longer than it properly should have as you both came in for more, treasuring it, cherishing it, until it had to come to its imminent end. He pulled away from you, staring at your face for a moment longer before he sat up, pulling out of you and making you shudder from the sudden loss and the even more sudden chill.

You stayed on the floor as he walked toward his desk and tucked himself back into his underwear. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping down as you lacked the strength to stand. As Tommy picked up his case of cigarettes, he looked at you over his shoulder, still laying there. Your legs were still spread out, your pussy dripping with both your cum on display and your arms framing your head. You'd passed out.

Tommy rubbed his cigarette between his lips before he lit it. His eyes never left you as he took the first puff before discarding the light and walking over to you. He knelt, tucking his hand under you to take you into his arms and set you on the sofa. He readjusted your body, your legs closed and one of your arms covering your chest.

He stood there a moment. You looked peaceful as you slept—absolutely debauched with your messy hair, tear-stricken cheeks, and swollen lips—but peaceful. Your face nuzzled into the cushion, and your lips twitched with whatever was going on in your head.

It took more than he would like to admit not to brush the apple of your cheek as he cleared his throat quietly. He picked up his disregarded shirt and draped it over your shoulders before choosing to walk back to his desk. He sat down and sifted through some files he pulled from a drawer to busy himself.

He didn't keep track of how long you slept or how long he sat there. He hadn't realised when he dozed off, tired out from you and from work.

You stirred from your place on the couch, opening your eyes and wondering why the floor was so soft. It took a moment to remember where you were, why you were naked, and why your thighs were so sticky.

Taking a deep breath in, a familiar scent filled your nose as you noticed the shirt over your body. You sat up slowly, pulling it to your chest and taking another deep breath. The scent made you dizzy, and you slipped it over your arms. The shirt was big on you, hanging low as you pulled it closed around your body.

Your body ached as you moved to stand, running a hand through your hair and stretching your sore limbs. Why were you so sore?

You took two steps, examining the floor and taking in all the clothes—scraps and fully intact—laying there, before you looked up and saw him. Tommy was passed out at his desk, bracing his face on his arms as he slept.

The events of that night flooded into your mind all at once and suddenly, everything made sense. You looked down at your dress of scraps again with a frown as you picked it up, rolling your eyes before using it to wipe away the cum glueing your legs together and discarding it back to the floor.

You padded over to Tommy, glancing over him and silently making your way to the window to peek behind the curtains. It was still dark out, so you hadn't slept long.

You returned to Tommy, lifting up his half-burnt cigarette and putting it out properly in the ashtray it was sitting in. You stared at him, watching him sleep.

You never thought the devil himself could ever look so peaceful.

You couldn't help yourself—you reached out and brushed some of his hair from his face. You just wanted to see him a little clearer. In doing so, he woke. It wasn't a slow waking like yours. His was fast, nearly startled as his eyes opened and his sharp inhale shocked his senses. Before he could jolt up to his feet, his blue eyes found you and his dark brows almost convinced you that he despised you as he granted you a hard stare.

But his expression shifted at the sight of you, after he'd properly taken you in and recognized you. He blinked away and sighed, sitting up slowly and leaning back in his chair. He tilted his head as he looked you up and down before reaching for his case of cigarettes again.

He picked one out, rubbed it between his lips, and lit it up in silence. And, in silence, you took it from between his lips and set it between your own. He stared at you, lips parted and amused—though, you had to look closely to notice.

"Apologise."

You stared at him with a raised brow, blowing out a billowing breath of smoke. He was surprised you smoke.

He looked you up and down before sighing and leaning back again. "Alright, I'll bite," he said. "What for?"

You took another deep breath before moving it again, blowing it out before gesturing toward him with his cigarette. "You called me pathetic."

"You are pathetic."

"And you called me a whore."

"You are a whore."

"You called me a pathetic whore."

He opened his arms, shrugging as he watched you. You raised a brow and blew out some more smoke.

"Apologise."

You weren't harsh as you said it, and you didn't look particularly hurt. In fact, you looked like a fucking angel dressed in his shirt, smoking his cigarette, and demanding he apologise for something you so obviously enjoyed.

He gave in, smiling as he rolled his eyes. "I apologise for calling you a pathetic whore…even if you are a pathetic whore."

You watched him for a moment, considering whether you'd accept his apology.

"I also want you to apologise for pointing a gun at me. Twice. And then touching my fucking cunt with it."

"No." He said it so simply, so finally. There was no way you'd get him to budge. "You liked it too much."

You thought about that and shrugged. Fair enough.

"I also–"

"Shut up and come here," he said, turning toward you with his open legs and arms.

You smiled and stepped between them, letting him take hold of your waist—even if you were still sensitive there because you didn't want to give up the affection. You guided the cigarette back between his lips, your fingers pressing against them as you did. He smoked it before taking it out and staring at you, blowing the air out as he thought.

Tommy reached into his pocket, digging around to pull out a coin. He handed it to you, and you shook your head at him. "That's not funny," you mumbled, stifling a laugh.

"Congratulations, you're worth two pennies."

"Fuck you," you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've already done that." You laughed again, shaking your head and ignoring the warmth in your belly.

You stared at him, rubbing the coin between your fingers as you toyed with it. He watched you think to yourself, biting your lip as your eyes so obviously flicked between his eyes and lips.

"Thank you, Tommy," you told him softly. "I needed this."

His smile faltered slightly as he continued to watch you. He sighed, unaware of his thumbs stroking patterns into your sides, "I didn't do it for you… but I'm happy to have helped."

You chuckled weakly, half-hearted. Looking down at the penny, you smiled slowly and held it up. "How about a wager?" His subtle amusement encouraged you.

"If it's heads…you get me a new dress because you ripped mine to shreds."

He let out a small scoff, shaking his head gently.

"And if it's tails…" you smiled. You lifted your leg, slipping into his lap as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His hands found your arse, pulling you forward so your bodies were flush against each other. Your eyes fluttered as his cock brushed your pussy, already exciting you for the probable future. You focused on him again, "...you fuck me again—this time naked."

He smiled and nodded his head. "Toss the coin, Miss Gold."

You licked your lips as you readied it between your thumb and finger. Your eyes locked for a moment between moments, drinking each other like forbidden wine. You flipped the coin into the air, watching as it twirled and twirled and twirled. The coin made its descent, you caught it, and you took a moment to close your eyes and hope before you let it show.

You couldn't hide your elation as you picked up the coin and showed him. "Congratulations, Mr. Shelby," you smiled. "Tails."

"A deal's a deal." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you in, "I would've fucked you otherwise." He kissed you in a mix of the roughness and sweet tenderness from earlier.

Between breaks, you sighed heavily. "Thank God because I need you," you confessed, kissing him again.

You undid his pants once more, this time pushing them down his legs and finally ridding him of them. He let you wear his shirt, refraining from admitting just how much he liked seeing you wear it.

The kiss was a mess as you devoured one another. He rocked your hips in his lap and you moaned at the pressure as his cock spread your lips apart. "Fuck, this is gonna be a long night," you hummed.

"Shut up and ride my cock," he demanded, not nearly as harsh as before but just as breathless as you now.

You smiled. "Yes, sir."

Peaky Blinders taglist: @lyarr24​ @runnning-outof-time​ @goblinjnr Tag yourself here...

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader smut #tommy shelby smut #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #female reader #tommy shelby x female reader #smut

[angelofthenight]

Alfie, to Tommy: Ur in (y/n)’s dms, I’m on google looking for nutrient rich soil I’d keep them in if they were a worm. We are not the same

#source: twitter #peaky blinders incorrect quotes #incorrect peaky blinders quotes #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders #incorrect quotes #reader insert #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tom hardy #cillian murphy

[motherofdogs1010]

Little Darling I (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Birmingham has received a new club, one that is showcasing a exotic type of dance that is drawing in crowds, but it is one particular dancer that catches Thomas Shelby's eye... one that goes by the stage name: Little Darling

Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, stripper!reader, eventual smut, swearing, drinking, mentions of prostitution/ sex work, canon Peaky Blinders violence

😊 Dividers by @firefly-graphics 😊 Banner by @vase-of-lilies

Part II

A new club in Peaky Blinder territory was something that always raised Tommy's attention; usually, he would pay no mind when they first pop up, but it seemed like this club was different.

The Scarlet Letter was what it was called, Tommy had been sitting in his office at Shelby Company Ltd. when John and Arthur had come in to report about this club. Apparently, the club was showcasing a unique type of dance with its female employees, one that involved the use of a pole?

"A bloody pole?" Tommy had scoffed at the mention. "How the bloody hell are these women dancing with a pole?"

"Have to go check it out to see", Arthur had replied with a cheeky grin. "From what we've heard, this club had been making money. No ties to any gangs either."

It was a sight to see inside The Scarlet Letter, women adorned in expensive lingerie, their hair adorned in pinned curls and lips painted a deep red, but what was interesting was they work masks that concealed half their face. Literal poles were scattered throughout the place, a barmaid and bartender maned two bars on either side of the place, both busy; sofas and booth seats surrounded some of the poles, paritions in certain parts of the building.

He noticed a few heavy built men guarding certain areas, Tommy realizing they were hired help for the women.

"Mr. Thomas Shelby", a voice boomed. "What a surprise to be seeing the Peaky Blinders in my establishment!"

Y/N ran the red lipstick over her lips, smacking her lips together to get the the color saturated onto her lips. The eyelash extensions she had glued on for the evening tying the whole look together as she made sure to careful wipe away any excess around her mouth just as the boss came in.

"Ladies", she boomed, "We got some big customers outside. Make sure to put on your best performances!"

Cherry Johnson was their boss, she was a woman of a tall stature with a loud, booming voice that commanded respect. But she was a good boss, always fair to them and making sure they were safe, she only had them dance or perform lap dances, never forcing them to go any further.

Cherry came over to her as Y/N was about to fix the mask on, "Y/N, do you mind taking on a particular client here?"

"What client?" she asked as she adjusted the mask and tied the ribbon to secure it.

She saw Cherry grin in the mirror, "Thomas Shelby. Told him I'd send him only the best of my girls."

Everyone had heard of Thomas Shelby, of the Peaky Blinders so she looked at Cherry with a little frown, her lips curled a little.

"He's an obvious big tipper, darling", Cherry said, Y/N sighed.

"Fine", Y/N said as she adjusted her corset. "But he better know the rules."

Cherry grinned even bigger if that was even possible.

Y/N waited behind the curtain, pushing her hair behind her shoulders as she waited for her arrival to be announced. They switched dancers every hour or so, changing sets and outfits, working the floor and private dances. She noticed that her two other co-workers, Babydoll and Lovely, were up next with her on the big stage.

"Hey there, Little Darling", Lovely said with a grin. "Heard the boss gave you some big fish to entertain."

"I just hope he isn't stingy with the tips", Y/N said as she heard Cherry begin to announce them.

"Look alive, ladies", Babydoll teased, "it's showtime."

Tommy leaned back in the plush velvet chair that was in front of the large stage, Arthur and John on either side of him as he inspected the area. Cherry, the boss, had told him that she was sending one of her best girls to dance for them, the crowd favorite, but Cherry had told him the rules and the biggest one was 'no touching'.

"Next up we got Lovely, Babydoll and your favorite... Little Darling!" Cherry announced to the eager crowd.

Tommy put his cigarette between his lips as he noticed the anticipation in John and Arthur, the eagerness in their bodies; Tommy wondered where Esme thought John was as she came out, a intricate corset and stockings piece with a garter on one plush thigh adorned her body. Pinned curls framed her masked face with those blood red, plump lips and sultry, bedroom lidded eyes that were just calling to him.

He didn't even notice his brothers be captivated by her or the other two dancers as she approached the pole, a sensual dance performed in front of him as she moved in a way he had never witnessed before. He noticed other patrons throwing... pounds? at them, the women sensually grabbing the bills and stuffing them into the attire.

"C'mon Tommy", John said, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little. "Let loose a little already."

His brothers were throwing notes onto the stage, Little Darling making a show of grabbing them and stuffing them into the corset with a wink. She was like a seductress on the stage, moving with the music, performing acrobatic moves on the pole, it amazed him so as he light another cigarette and placed it in his mouth, he reached into his inner coat pocket, grabbing some bills into his hand.

Little Darling gave him a seductive smile, moving from the pole and getting to her knees, begin to crawl towards him till she reached the end of the stage where he was; she tilted her head a little before she leaned forward, making a show of grabbing his hand that held the bills and guiding it to stuffing the bills into the front of her corset where her tits were.

She winked at him before blowing him a kiss.

Y/N made a good amount of money from her dancing on the stage, counting the pounds that were thrown before passing it to Cherry to take her part.

"Good show out there, N/N", Cherry said, handing her back the money she earned. "You got a private dance with a Mr. Shelby."

Y/N nodded, rolling her shoulders back before making sure her makeup was still good before heading to one of the private rooms.

Walking into one of the private rooms, she saw him there; the dimly light room only seemed to work in the man's favor, adding to the feeling of danger that already existed in the room. He had his cap off, it resting on one of the side tables in the room as he blew out a smoke of nicotine from his lips.

"Cherry tells me you're called Little Darling", Tommy said as she closed the door behind her.

"I am", she answered as she slowly walked towards them.

"Quite the performance you put on."

She moved to straddle his lap, draping her arms his shoulders with a lazy grin on her face.

"I could see you enjoyed it, very much."

She stared into his piercing blue eyes, she could see the lust swirling in his eyes as she begun to move her hips.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #x reader #plus sized reader #chubby reader #reader insert #thomas shelby

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Imprisonment

Summary: Tommy holds you to a high standard in marriage, expecting you to care for the children, tend to the house, and serve him. It was all too much and in an attempt to escape from Tommy’s wicked ways, he catches you in a lie.

Warnings: Noncon, misogyny, physical/mental abuse, traditional values and expectations, spitting, degradation, humiliation, forced breeding

Thomas Shelby. The most important, handsome, dangerous man in Birmingham. The man every woman’s knees would give out for just one night with him and would risk their freedom for. 

If only they knew the rope he had around your wrists and neck throughout your marriage, constantly having to watch your tongue, dress elegantly to events with insecure men who used their position of power to have control over others.

What drew you in aside from his constant devotion to win you over was the fact he could provide for you and a family, he gave you a house to live in and share together. He took you in and loved you when you had no money, never once blinked an eye at another woman, always stood up for you but that all changed.

Currently seated in his office, rocking your newborn he was filling out paperwork jaw clenched, nothing but the sound of the clock ticking on the wall filling your eardrums.

Things weren’t how they used to be before the marriage.

There was no quality time together, no signs of affection other than a quick fuck when he decided he needed it. Date nights didn’t exist, the compassion was missing entirely it almost seemed as if Thomas was always preoccupied with business to care for you or the three children you’ve birthed. There were numerous times where you begged and pleaded for just a night out, for Frances to watch the children for one night a month at the least but he wouldn’t have any of it. 

Then whenever you’d question him as to why he was out late doing business matters with women you haven’t even met it would be a simple “it’s just business, nothing more”. But you knew that was a lie, yet you stayed, you stayed out of fear because you didn’t know who he was anymore, or the lengths he would go to, to keep you in the house.

Matters became difficult after your newborn was born, you’d only been married to Thomas for three years and it seemed all you were good for was carrying his children and doing all of the chores outside and in while he was god knows where handling the family business, the great Shelby Incorporated. When you reminded him of what he’d hired Frances for he’d simply respond with, “She’s not their mother, she’s not my wife. It is your job to watch after the children no matter what arises. I take care of the business, you stay home help Frances with chores and ensure that the kids are fed, bathed and taken care of, as a wife should.”

He held you to a high standard that was too much to bare and any opportunity to discuss and come to a compromise would be immediately dismissed as he “didn’t have the time to discuss such ridiculous matters”. 

You had a plan, a plan to take the kids and run to get away from this circle of madness, even if it meant raising the children on your own and working to make ends meet without Thomas’s help.

Their bags were packed and hidden away outside in the shed, covered with a blanket.

The sound of his pen falling aimlessly onto his desk pulled you away from your thoughts, sending your attention to him immediately as to act like nothing was going on.

He picked up the bottom of his whiskey glass, finishing off what was left in a singular gulp, before his blue eyes that no longer sparkled locked with yours in a moment of skepticism.

“Why were you out in the barn today? You fed the horses at sunrise and released them and if I recall correctly there’s still quite a few more hours until sunset.” Stiffening in your seat, you adjusted yourself to make it seem like nothing was wrong while your hands tightened cautiously around your sleeping newborn.

“Oh I just remembered that Harry left his sippy cup out there and he was asking about it. Didn’t exactly want to handle putting Daisy here down for a nap while he was crying for it.” Thomas huffed and folded his hands, his top lip twitched up as he reached for his cigarettes rubbing the rolled up tobacco on his plump lips before lighting it. You hated when he smoked around the children and he knew that. 

“Well I’d prefer you tend to the house, and we have two other children in case you’ve forgotten. Surely they needed you.” At that moment your third began screaming downstairs, he was beginning to start teething and was having his moment of discomfort. Tommy looked at the door expectantly, silently excusing you from the room without one more word, didn’t even offer to hold your newborn while you tended to Patrick.

The following morning after his coffee, he awoke you from your deep slumber dressed in a suit and tie, smelling of teakwood and mint. He was freshly showered, hair combed back while his hands were tucked swiftly in his pockets. 

“The garden looks like it could use your attention today as well. Wouldn’t want my money to go to waste. Also Frances retreived the mail when you weren’t awake, Harry is overdue for his physical so get that taken care of today.” He exited the room, picking up his briefcase on the way out.

When you heard the car door close outside you peaked out the window to ensure he had left and rushed to the closet grabbing a handful of clothes.

Your mind was running in every direction and you were damned if you weren’t going to have your freedom if not for you, your children.

The Shelby household was no place for children, guns everywhere, all out wars in the dining room, the degradation of women. Daisy didn’t need to see that or be taught she were less because of being a woman.

Tommy already had it planned out for her, her whole life sheltered until he found a man suitable to marry his daughter, it was dreadful.

Frances watched you walk rather quickly outside through the green fields of fresh flowers to the barn, carrying three bags. She wasn’t stupid and she was not going to lose her job over this.

After you closed the door to the car once the kids were buckled in she met you outside, causing you to roll your eyes and anxiety rise in your chest.

“Frances please spare me the you can’t do this, he’ll find you this and that. I will not raise my children up in a house like this with a man who shows no care or love for them! So respectfully stay out of it and do what you do best and go wash my husband’s blood stained clothes because it will never be enough to keep him satisfied.” With that you closed the door and made your way out of the driveway, on your way to freedom.

The backroads were empty as you intended not single soul in sight nothing but the warm breeze flowing through the rolled down windows, deer galloping in the fields. You were almost out of Birmingham on your way to a new life for you and the children.

Harry and Daisy were asleep in the backseat while Partrick was coloring in a book, kicking his small legs back and forth mindlessly. The sight made you smile widely.

Coming to a stop light you reached down to retrieve  your address book and directions to make sure you were going the right way but the sound of tapping on the window drew you out of your thoughts.

“Mommy, look it’s daddy!” You immediately froze in a silent panic, not wanting to look up.

When you didn’t move he reached his hand through the window, unlocking the door and taking a seat on the passenger side.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly until your knuckles turned white, the anxiety rising in your chest causing your breath to get stuck in your throat. 

The metallic feeling of his gun settled on your thigh.

“Now don’t make a scene my love. Arthur is going to take the car tonight and John is going to drive us all home. We’ll talk about this later.” Begrudgingly you brought your shaking hand up to put the car in park as a tears flowed effortlessly down your cheeks in defeat.

Stepping out of the car you gathered the kids, crying even more as you felt you failed them. 

“Mommy what’s wrong?” Tommy scooped Harry up in his arms, swiping the hair away from his forhead.

“Mommy’s not feeling well and asked me to pick you guys up. We’re going back home she needs to sleep.” 

The whole ride home the car filled with silence, Tommy’s hand never leaving your thigh as his nails cut deep into your skin. You were terrified to arrive back home in the prison he built just for you.

After putting the children in bed, telling them you love them you closed the door lightly while Thomas stood next to you outside their room, watching you intently.

Once the door was closed he leaned in against you, his lips just inches away from yours.

“If you attempt this little show of yours again I can assure you, you won’t see the children again. You won’t live to see another day.” He pulled you by your wrist ignoring your choked up cries and pulled you into the bedroom, closing the door behind you.

“You thought you could run away from me? Thomas Shelby? And I wouldn’t find out? Mistake number one was the fucking sippy cup. Frances watched you carry those bags out to the barn and phoned me immediately. Forcing me to cut the deal short and to reschedule. Do you think I don’t treat you well? That I don’t give you everything?” You stayed silent, tears streaming down your cheeks as his dominance and power over you filled the room just by the way he circled around you.

“Did you forget your place? Is that it eh?” He stopped in front of you, wrapping his large hand around your small throat, his hand tightened tremendously, forcing you to gasp for any type of air.

He began to laugh menacingly, darkly. His crystal eyes arose with a blue flame, eyebrows furrowing together in anger as he spat on your face.

“You live because I allow you. You are my fucking property, my dearly beloved.” Not letting go of your throat he began walking angrily with grit, slamming you against the wall where books tumbled down from their shelving.

His lips smashed into yours in a heated, hateful kiss, his free hand running down your thigh to your ass, gripping the flesh harshly forcing a desperate screech to escape your lips.

His knee forced your legs a apart as he unzipped his pants with his free hand.

His hardened erect member popped out freely, smacking against your abdomen.

You tried to protest, words barely even understandable while he slid your panties to the side.

The shadow of his dominating eyes loomed over you with power, his nose snarling while a singular vein in his forehead was standing out noticeably.

In one swift movement his hips bucked upward, his cock sliding between your bruised walls that no longer wanted him.

It stung, you were completely dry, your makeup running down your cheeks in a beautiful disaster, and Tommy took a tremendous amount of joy in reminding you how much power he had over you.

“Big will always fuck small darling. You feel that?” He thrusted up into your core mercilessly, ripping your dress down with a flick of his hand leaving your breasts exposed to him as they bounced up and down, causing you to try to hide your face to look anywhere but him.

“That’s all you are, nothing but an appendage, my little slave. Tell me when are you going to learn your role Y/N, eh?” Your hands left his on your thrust, trying with all their might to push him away but he was too strong.

“Thomas please!” He mocked you repeating those words in a childish tone.

You could feel your body beginning to betray you, his cock warming your insides as the pain turned to pleasure, but you stayed crying as shame fulfilled you.

He began to laugh, as he watched your slick begin to slowly ooze out of you, coating his cock.

“Would you look at that? Still a whore for me arent you? You should feel grateful I’m even fucking you, hasn’t felt the same since you gave birth, more spacious, not so tight anymore.” You spat in his eye.

“Fuck you!” He released your neck, causing you to drop straight down onto the dirty floor. 

As you were gasping for air his hand curled into the strands of your hair, dragging you over toward the bed.

Tossing you onto the mattress effortlessly he tugged his tie off, wrapping the expensive fabric between your lips, tying it.

His hand flew back, and came crashing down in a vicious stroke against your delicate cheek, the blow guaranteed to leave a bruise.

“Can’t have you waking the children now can I?” He flipped you over onto your stomach, his body boring over you as he spread your cheeks, taking your flesh in his strong hand aggressively causing you to let out a muffled screech.

He penetrated you once more, his head hung by the back of your head, his hot breath carelessly running down your neck as he drilled into your aching hole.

“Is this all your good for eh?” His balls slapped against your bruised skin, as he spit his venomous words in your ear.

“A nuisance throughout the day but an average fuck at night?” You could feel his cock pulsate in your soaking core, your walls clenching around him involuntarily while you struggled to breath, your head nuzzled into the mattress.

His hands intertwined with yours, his back arching with each forceful thrust.

“Maybe I should put another child in you hm? Would that keep you happy? Shut you up and remind you of your place?” Your muffled protests merely made him laugh, as if he cared what you thought. 

He knew the children were your weak spot and you’d never abort, no matter how much you despised him.

His cock inched deeper with every single movement, causing your thighs to turn weak beneath him as the feeling of ecstasy ran throughout your veins from being close.

“I’ve ruined you my darling. No other man would look even once at you knowing who your husband is and what a used out whore you are. So desperate to be loved you jumped in bed with the first man who gave you attention.” His words struck a nerve. Your mind swam in every direction trying to understand when love and harmony turned into the never ending abuse and destruction of any emotional connection you shared.

Thomas owned you in every way. He was your first love, first and only husband, first fuck, and your final downfall.

His breathing picked up, and you felt him pulsate, filling you deep with his seed once more, the warmth sending you crumbling beneath him, your muffled moans sounding like music to his ears.

He layed there for a moment, his fingers combing through your hair gently.

“You have one role. How difficult is that to understand love? Serve me and care for the children. That’s all I ever asked.” He undid the tie and you stayed silent, crying into the mattress when you felt him pull out and his seed puddled out of you, soaking the sheets.

“Clean this up, and we’ll go to bed.” The bedroom was silent that night as it was every other night, reminding you that this marriage would never be the same. The man that was supposed to love and care for you was now the enemy, his arm holding you in your place against his chest as he slept effortlessly while you were terrified to sleep in the place you once thought was your home.

#Tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby x you #tommy shleby x reader #Thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #reader insert #pesky blinders #Peaky blinders imagine #ranaewrites

[noforkingclue]

I warned you it's brain rot. It's Tommy Shelby brain rot-

But Tommy Shelby has a nurse who knows not to ask too many questions, who lets injured Peaky blinders into her house and helps them quietly. He's been there himself, so has Arthur, John. Finn once, too, but for a scraped knee on the street.

And Thomas has always regarded her as one of his-his men, his assest, whatever. And he's been slowly learning about her-she talks when she works, to distract, put them at ease, and it lets him learn more about her-she likes horses, for instance. Where she grew up, the basics of how she ended up here-and he pays her well enough, and she doesn't seem fool enough to turn coat.

But there are moments...moments where he's injured, where it's her and him in the room, smelling of blood, of pain and that soft voice and comfort-and he knows in those moments she's not just his nurse. Not just a healer he wants to keep around because her stitches are clean and neat, and her mouth shut.

So when Grace the fucking barmaid squeals about her to the coppers-he's not exactly a happy man. And Tommy Shelby angry is a sight to behold.

Note: requests are currently closed

Of course anon! I hope I got all the details in the request as it was a long on!

Enjoy!

Title: Vengeance

Warnings: descriptions of violence against women

Peaky Blinders tag list: @stylesofloki, @ohshititsfenharel, @lenaskyler02, @elenavampire21, @swordofawriter, @zablife, @cillmequick, @polishcrazyone, @nataliewalker93

Thomas Shelby tag list: @alreadybroken-ts, @darlingdevil, @lyrxbz, @watercolorskyy, @notyour-valentine

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Arthur growled, “once we find out who did this their going to wish they hadn’t been fucking born.”

“Arthur-“

“They fucking hurt y/n,” Arthur said, “Y/n? What has she ever done?”

“She fucking helped us,” said John, “how many times have you been to her?”

“Not as much as you fucking have.”

Tommy was looking into the main bar, smoking silently. He had remained quiet while his brothers discussed what happened and their plans for your attacker. Well, Arthur and John had. Finn remained quiet and very pale, clutching a glass of whiskey so tightly that Tommy thought he was going to break it. That would only add to their problems seeing as you wouldn’t be able to pull the glass out. Tommy had seen Finn wiping his eyes but subtlety was never Finn’s strong points.

“Boys.”

Polly stood in front of Tommy. He glanced over her shoulder and looked at you huddled in a booth. Polly pushed her was passed him and Tommy shut the door behind her.

“How is she?” asked John

“What a fucking stupid question,” snapped Polly before sighing and running a hand over her face, “how do you think? She needs time so, don’t-“

“You need to leave.” Said Tommy

“Excuse me?” said Polly, venom in her voice

“I’m going to speak to her.”

“She doesn’t need that at the moment, especially from you.”

Tommy looked over and locked eyes with Polly.

“I need to speak to her.”

“Tom-“ said Arthur

“Fuck off.” Tommy said as he left the room

Your head jerked up when you heard the door open but you seemed to relax slightly when you realised it was only Tommy. He sat down opposite you and was vaguely aware of his brothers and Polly leaving. Neither of you spoke for a while. You ran a thumb over the rim of your glass and Tommy lit a cigarette and offered it to you. You took it with shaking hands and his eyes dropping down to the cuts on your hands. Deep scratches along the palms of yours hands, knuckles had the skin scrapped away. When he looked up at your face he felt the familiar bubbling rage resurface.

Your left eye was an ugly purple colour and swollen shut. Your bottom lip has been cut open and starting to scab over. Your nose was now slightly crooked and he could see the traces of blood around your nostrils. From the way you drew deep shaking breath, wincing every so often, he guessed that your ribs had been broken.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “this shouldn’t have happened.”

You took a deep drag of your cigarette and said,

“I knew that this could happen when I started helping.”

“You didn’t deserve it.”

“I work for the Shelby’s.”

“Which is why we’re going to find out who did this and kill him.”

You blinked in surprise and smiled bitterly.

“Never knew you cared.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re one of us.”

And maybe it was because Tommy liked you a bit too much. You always helped him and his men, probably more often then you should’ve. You stayed up late, humouring an old (and secretly lonely) man. Telling him stories of your life before the Blinders, telling him about your day and in return getting some small snippets of his life in return. In the dark of the night, in a room that smelt of blood and alcohol, the two of you grew closer.

And it was this that had sealed your fate.

“Love, you need to tell me what you can remember.”

“I… can’t.”

“Anything.”

“They blindfolded me.”

Ah.

“But, he had an accent.”

“Hmm.”

“Irish, I think.”

“Irish,” Tommy let out a chuckle, “think I know who you mean. He’d hate for you to call him Irish though.”

“Huh?”

You jumped when there was a clink by the bar. Tommy looked over at it sharply and saw Grace by the bar. A tense silence fell over the room before Tommy said,

“And how long have you been there?”

#fanfiction #peaky blinders #reader insert #request #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader

[too-many-baes]

Not a Chance

Pairing: fem!reader x John Shelby

Warning(s): Alcohol consumption, mild description of violence (against you), being attacked

Word Count: 5.9K

Summary: When one of the infamous Shelby brothers decides you'd caught his eye, you answer his advances with the same thing every time. Not a chance. One fateful late-night throws you closer to the Small Heath bad boy than you ever thought you'd get.

A/N: Wow, look at that word count. IDK what came over me but I started writing and then I just didn't stop. This is my favourite that I've written for Non-Stop August so far, by far.

If anyone has any requests send 'em on in and I just might be able to find a place to slip it in this month.

With a smile on your face you hand the brown paper bag with the delicately folded edge over to Mrs Murphy, careful to pass it to her with the bottom flat and unmoving, lest the cream on top of the bun should get flattened.

“Husband still has no clue?” You tease as you accept her few coins in your outstretched hand.

“I have it down to a fine art. Eat it in the alley just before the turn off to my street and dump the wrapper in the neighbour’s bin. It's full proof.” You laugh along with her, the kind of laughter that two women who share a secret from the men around them allow, before waving her off as the bell above the door loudly exclaims her exit.

It was near on closing so the small bakery only boasted a couple of customers whose chittering about which type of bread to accompany their dinners filled the shop. You decide to get a head start on your nightly routine, changing the prices on the small pieces of whiteboard to reflect your end of day urge to get the last few stragglers of baked goods sold.

The bell above the door chimes again when your back was turned to the door. The store quiets to a complete still, before scurried feet and the bell going again tells you of your previous customers hurried escape. You sigh, closing your eyelids firmly before turning around, knowing exactly the only people that could have that effect on your patrons.

“You know John,” you start, turning around to face not only the one Shelby you were imagining, but two in the shape of John and Arthur, “Mr Mooney would be outraged if he knew you were coming in here and scaring off his customers. Any more of that carry on and he might not be able to keep the shop open.”

Your level stare at the men did nothing but bring a grin to the already smirking face of John Shelby, the toothpick in his mouth lolling to the side at the movement.

“C’mon darl,” he held out his hands by his side in an exaggerated shrug, “when have you ever known me not to be a generous customer?” Arthur had distracted himself with looking around, clearly having been dragged in here on their way to wherever they were actually supposed to be.

“Well hurry up then, what is it you want tonight?” Your urging makes John raise a hand to his chest, clutching at his heart as if wounded.

“Did you hear that Arthur?” John asks all but rhetorically, as Arthur pays his younger brothers’ antics no mind. “What is it you want,” John mimics, “you can tell Mr Mooney that if there’s any dip in sales it’s from how his shop lady talks to the customers.”

John places both of his hands against the front of the counter, leaning slightly towards you. Your eyes stray to the toothpick hanging out of his mouth, noting to yourself that you had seen him with it more often than without. John mistakenly thinking that you were looking at his lips shoots you a wink, making you take a step back from the counter.

“You want customer service?” You question, clearing your throat with a dramatic cough and leveling him with the best fake smile you could muster. “Good evening gentlemen and welcome to Mooney’s Morsels. Now unfortunately we are running low in stock, but if I can divert your attention to the front cabinet, you’ll see you’re lucky enough for there still to be a selection left to sample.” Your voice is both jovial and dead at the same time as you wave your hands illustriously across the very few items remaining for the day, making a spectacle of yourself to prove a point.

“Well, I liked that one much better myself.” You let out a small tsk at the older Shelby who had spoken up from the back of the shop, but not daring to push your luck the same way that you did with John, lacking the same familiarity.

John from his still leant position at your counter lifts up a hand and lazily wiggles a finger at you, gesturing for you to come closer. You comply and rest both of your elbows on your own side of the counter, placing your chin in your hands so you can gaze at him with the set of fake puppy dog eyes you were sporting.

Even though John knew that you were only teasing, your proximity and hunched posture meant that you were close enough that he had to look down at you, your eyes piercing through his chest without you so much as trying. The smell of freshly milled flour from your apron drifted pleasantly up his nose as he allowed himself a moments pause to take you in before continuing.

“You better listen up darl, cause this is a one time offer,” he said, accentuating the word ‘one’ by raising up a singular finger in front of your face before swiftly tapping you on the nose with it, “I’m going to buy every last thing left in this shop.” Your nose relaxed from its scrunched position and the hand you’d just used to swat John’s away stilled at your side. If John bought everything that would mean that you’d get to skip off home early, maybe even be able to have a cup of tea with your mother before you’d both start on dinner.

“But as a reward you have to come for a drink at the Garrison with me. Whaddya say?” He drums his fingers a few times before standing up to his full height, face smug as if he’d just given you an offer you simply couldn’t refuse.

Although for a second you had forgotten that you were talking to John Shelby, the brief prospect of heading home early being snatched away from you as soon as it was offered had you deflating. Not that you’d show it to the men. Instead, you make a show of tapping your chin with a set of your fingers from your still leant position, giving the appearance of genuinely thinking about the offer. You abruptly stood up, a clear sign that you had made your decision, much to John’s initial delight.

“Not a chance Johnny boy.” Arthur chuckles from behind his younger brother, prompting a glare to be sent his way. “Now if you’re not actually going to buy anything can you get out of the shop, you’re scaring everyone away.”

“We’re not doing anything.”

“I think you know as well as I do that you don’t have to.” John rolls his eyes in annoyance, but even he can’t deny the truth in your words.

Arthur clearly fed up with the whole charade his brother had just made him endure purchases a loaf of ciabatta, you happily wrapping it up for him. He hands you his payment but refuses to accept his change once you offered it to him, stating that you could keep it for the trouble. You smile and accept it gratefully, wishing the gentlemen a pleasant evening as Arthur leads John out of the shop by the elbow. Once outside the younger brother shakes off his brother’s hand in irritation, following Arthur down the street and only breaking eye contact with you once he leaves the line of sight of the shop window.

You release a sigh once he was out of view, your chest feeling less constricted by the action. You really thought the Shelby boy would’ve given up well before now.

You’d shifted to Small Heath with your mother and two younger siblings 8 months ago, and 8 months ago you’d caught the eye of John Shelby after your first day working in the bakery.

“You watch out for that lot,” the cheerful Mr Mooney had warned you after seeing the three Shelby boys crossing the street en route to the shop, “those Shelby boys are mixed up in all the wrong things, nothin’ but trouble.”

Although you had appreciated the older man’s fatherly advice, you didn’t need it. You could see it for yourself. People parted ways to make room for them on the street, either avoiding eye contact or giving a pleasant and rushed greeting. They walked with an authority that said how unafraid of everyone and everything they were, that was all you had needed to see to have each of them pegged.

You’d never met the men, but you knew them before they had even stepped a foot through the bakery door. You’d grown up around men like them. Your mother had dated men like them, your brother had hung around with men like they before you shifted. They were trouble with a capital ‘T’, and you may have been the only woman in all of Small Heath to have not been glad to have caught trouble’s eye.

The propositions hadn’t started on that first day, but by later that same week they had started and had ceased to stop since. Every time John asked you out it went the exact same way.

“Let me take you out to dinner.”

“Not a chance.”

“Lets go cruising, just the two of us.”

“Not a chance.”

“There’s a new club opened, I bet we’d look good together on the dancefloor.”

“Not a chance Shelby.”

No matter how many different ways he invented to ask you, your answer was always the same. Not a chance.

You’d have thought that by now the youngest Shelby would’ve gotten bored, having gathered from the gossip around Small Heath that he was the most restless of the three. Week after week you were proven wrong, as the bell dinged before his cocky smile was staring right at you.

How many more times was it going to take before trouble stopped knocking on your door?

Having not been able to close early for the night, you flip the battered sign hanging in the door to closed before locking the front door after you. If anybody was following you home, they’d have been surprised to see you turning off on a street several before your own. If they’d been following you for any good period of time though, they’d know this was a weekly stop.

You rap on a beaten down, shabby red door, before a frazzled mother, whose appearances very much matched her front door, yanked it open. Her annoyed expression softened when she saw it was you. You exchanged pleasantries briefly before you handed over a tote bag containing what few loaves had been left at the end of the day.

“You’re sure you’re not going to get in trouble for this?” Mrs Hawley queried as a handful of her many children raced down the hallway behind her.

“Mooney would have to know to care.” You say with a reassuring pat to her shoulder. You say your goodbyes after she thanks you profusely before your head to your final stop of the night.

The house was quiet as it usually was during the evenings, your mother being an advocate for making both your younger siblings read for an hour or two before dinner. Her reading skills were poor at best, and although she couldn’t afford a good education for your brother and sister, she did what little was in her power to do.

You prepared dinner in almost complete silence, with you humming out a few notes of a song you had caught out of the window of a passing car on your way home.

“Shelley said she saw those Shelby boys in the bakery again today.” Although you liked little old Shelley Wickham that lived in the apartment across the road and up a storey from the bakery, you were sure that your mother had had ulterior motives in befriending her.

“Yes, they were mum.” You sigh out, ready for yet another lecture about the dangerous brothers three.

“I just want you to be-”

“Careful. Yes I know.” You interrupt, earning you a displeased scowl in return. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. That John Shelby couldn’t tempt me if he offered us a gold adorned mansion to live in.” You continued cooking in silence, your mother sufficiently calmed for the evening.

“Now dear even I’d be tempted by a gold mansion.” The joking lilt in her voice has you both dissolving into giggles, you nudging her with your elbow lovingly, glad that you had been able to ease your mothers mind. If only for one more night.

*****

You were watching the clock tick down. It had been one of those kinds of days. You closed your doors at 4, meaning you only had 20 minutes until you were allowed to lock the doors. Mr Mooney had told you that he was really needing the bread stoves cleaned after your shift, and you were only too happy to accept the paid overtime, him telling you to take as long as you needed before leaving for the day.

The bell above the door dinged, forcing a smile onto yourself after you allowed yourself a grimace. before turning your focus to the customer. You immediately allowed the smile to fall off of your face when you saw it was only John Shelby.

“I’m not in the mood tonight John, okay? Can you just head on down to the Garrison like you usually do and find someone there to annoy.”

“Woah woah woah there darl. Is it really too much to ask for to get a look at that pretty face of yours before I drink away my sorrows after you shoot me down again?” That signature grin adorned his face, but you weren’t in the mood for playing games, leaving the frown firmly upon your lips.

“You know you could just skip out the whole middle bit and head to the Garrison to drink happily with the knowledge that you haven’t been rejected in one whole day.” You add a sarcastic tight-lipped smile to the end of your sentence, which only spread his own. He looked up to the clock on the wall before speaking.

“Your shift ends in 15, how about I wait here then walk you down to the Garrison with me for a drink? I swear I’ll be the total gentleman. I won’t even give you a goodnight kiss, even when ask for one.” You opened your mouth to respond but he interrupted you before you got the chance. “Let me guess? Not a chance.” He says, raising his voice slightly in a very poor imitation of you that you find yourself letting out a small laugh at. Much to your annoyance.

“You got better plans tonight then darl?”

“If you must know actually my plans are over time here cleaning the ovens before having a cup of tea with my mother, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You add the last part when it looked as though John were about to launch into a speech about how much more fun your night would be if you spent it with him instead.

“Over time on a Friday? How are you getting home?” He asks with a genuine concern that has you hesitating.

“Walking like usual.” John was very clearly unhappy with that answer, shaking his head back and forth at you, toothpick swaying on his lips.

“No. I’ll come and give you a lift.”

“After drinks at the Garrison? I don’t think so.” You scoff out.

“Then I’ll come and walk you home. Final offer, and I’m not taking no for an answer.” You glance at the clock, seeing that closing was rapidly approaching. All you wanted to do was to get started on that oven, so you did something that you hoped you wouldn’t regret.

“Alright fine.” You said yes to John Shelby. The smile on his face makes you wish you could take your answer back, but you can’t unsay what’s been said. And you can’t un-feel the butterflies that knock about your stomach as you usher him out the front door, him placing a kiss upon your hand before you snatch it back and lock the door.

You find that you put more elbow grease into the furnace than what was strictly necessary in an effort to rid your thoughts of John. You’d dip your brush into the bucket and there he would be, grinning down at you. You’d pick at a stubborn spot and you’d feel his lips upon your hand, soft and warm. You’d get fresh sudsy water and you’d be able to feel his breath upon your face.

You startle out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the glass in the front of the store. You race out of the back room to find two drunken men drawn by the light still on in the shop knocking at the glass and trying the door knob.

“We’re closed. Better move along.” You say, pointing at the hanging closed sign as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. One of the men you recognise from down the street to you, so you address him when the men do not immediately move on. “Mr Hawley, won’t your wife and kids be waiting for you?” You question with a steel gaze that has the addressed man’s lip curling up in rage.

“What’s it to ya?’ He slurs out at you, his companion trying the door for what would have to have been the fifth time since you’d been standing there.

“Absolutely nothing to me, but I’m sure it’s something to your wife and kids.” Graham Hawley stares right back at you with an intent that has shivers racing up along your spine before it settles back in the pit of your stomach.

With his friend still leering and trying the door beside him, Graham grabs him by the collar and pulls him off out of view down the street. You only hope that he was off to his family and not off to find more alcohol.

Your work takes about another hour before you’re satisfied with how the oven came up. Even with the strain that runs across your back and the aching neck you acquired in the process, you turn the lights in the bakery off with a smile, opening and locking the door behind you.

The feeling that comes over you when you realise that John Shelby was not waiting for you has you scrunching up your nose in disgust. Funny how he could have that effect on you without even being in your presence. Usually of course, you were screwing up your nose for entirely different reasons, but for the sake of your sanity you were ignoring that you were disappointed that he hadn’t shown up.

Despite yourself. you find that you linger at the door far longer than necessary. You double check the door and cup your eyes against the glass to see that all the lights were turned off, even though it was plain that they were. With a defeated sigh you give up and start making your way down the cobblestones.

As you usually finished much earlier in the day you were shocked by the calm that the night brought, how cobblestones slick with water and oil from passing cars sparkled under the dim street lights.

For a moment, you pause in your steps, straining to hear into the distance. You start your steps again slowly, but cease them almost immediately after, catching the this time unmistakable sound of steps following behind you. You turn and assess the street, shaking your head at yourself when you realise that there was no one in sight. If you’d have realised you were this prone to paranoia you’d have been counting your lucky stars much earlier than this that your shifts usually ended so early in the day.

Suddenly a hand is thrown over your mouth. Fat, sweaty fingers make screaming an impossibility as the accompanying arm is firmly latched around your waist, pulling you into the darkness of a nearby alley. Your head is slammed forcefully against the brick of the wall, making you see stars as you desperately try to blink them away.

When you get reoriented you see that the figure holding you against the wall is Graham Hawley, his friend hanging just slightly to your left in the shadows.

“You think you’re some real high and mighty bitch, huh? Think you can tell me when I should be getting home and when I shouldn’t?” Your reply is slapped from your mouth as Graham’s hand left your mouth long enough to smack it hard against your cheek before returning its stifling grip on your mouth.

“Think we’re some charity case, is that it? Bringing over what scraps of bread nobody else wanted like I can’t provide for my own family.” Your words of denial can’t make it past the drunken man’s fingers, and you feel tears prick in the corners of your eyes as you fight to be heard, by him or anyone else that may have been passing.

“C’mon man, we better go.” His friend pipes up, making you nod your head as vigorously as you could against the cold brick, muffled sounds of approval puffing past his heavy fingers. The tears begin to fall down your cheeks, slowly at first, when a sadistic grin spreads across your aggravators face.

“Go?”, he questions to his friend, “I haven’t even gotten to teach this bitch a lesson yet.” He releases the arm around your waist, replacing the pressure there with his beefy torso, as he rears back his fist to the increasing volume of your muffled screams. You close your eyes with ragged breaths, awaiting the feeling of your nose crunching and your skull hitting the wall.

“Let her go.” A new voice joins the fray and the tears freely pour across your cheeks and onto Graham’s fingers when you see John Shelby’s silhouette, illuminated by the street light.

“What did you say, boy?”

“I said, let. Her. Go.” You’d never truly understood the fear the gripped the chests of Small Heath at the sight of the Shelby’s, but John’s clipped, authoritative words had the blood in your veins stilling.

The reaction it has upon the men is instant, with his friend tugging at his sleeve and begging to go, while Graham’s hold on you lessened ever so slightly. Still clearly high on the liquid courage he’d imbibed in he doesn’t relent, shaking off his friend and trying to match John’s stare.

“And what if I don’t? You gonna get your brother to deal to me?” Wordlessly, John reaches up and removes the flat cap from his head, holding the brim between his fingers so the light could catch at the metal hidden within its seams.

“No. I’m gonna deal to you.” Graham’s friend had taken more than enough for the two of them, letting out a frantic ‘lets go’ as he this time successfully pulled on his friends arm, sending the two of them peeling down the alley and into the next street over. Out of your sight but not your mind.

John has you held in his arms before you’d even realised your knees had given out, catching you and keeping you on your feet. He says your name softly once, then when it garnered no response he says it again. His voice was still soft, but the urgency that was laced in the letters were enough to pull your teary eyes to his face.

“Are you okay?” It was a loaded question. Physically, you would be okay. The implications of the evening hadn’t set in for you yet though, the adrenaline wearing off making your knees tremble and your hands shake from their position clutching the fabric of his tweed jacket.

“Lets get you home darl, c’mon.”

“No.” The panic in that one word has John’s brow stitched together until you repeat yourself. “No, I can’t have my mother seeing me like this. She can’t know this happened.” Your mother would never allow you to take any more over time if she found out about this fiasco, and as much as you were shaking like a leaf and incapable of pulling a steady breath into your lungs, your family were in no position to be turning down any extra hours.

John nods at you, seeming to understand everything you were thinking in that small, panicked sentence you were able to muster. Without another word he places a gentle arm around your waist so your sides were flat together, and he delicately places the arm not desperately clinging to his own around the back of his neck.

You successfully place one foot in front of the other as you lean on the support you hadn’t known you needed until it was given. John leads you down the street and although you have no idea where you’re going, with his small muttered words of encouragement you diligently follow his lead. In that moment you’d have followed John Shelby anywhere.

Seemingly out of the blue John stops at a nondescript door, pulling a key out of one of his many pockets and letting you both inside. He places you down on a plush red lined sofa, leaving your side only long enough to light the fire in the room and start the kettle before he’s back by your side with a rag and an unlabelled clear bottle.

With a movement of his head, he motions for you to turn around. You do so obligingly, offering him up the now pounding area on the back of your skull that had collided with the wall. You feel his fingers gently graze over the area, a hiss escaping your lips when he places a tad too much pressure on the centre of the point of pain.

“This is going to hurt.” The popping of a cork has you turning your head slightly to see John pouring the liquid all over the rag. Re-corking the bottle, you face your head forward, nodding for John to continue.

John hadn’t been lying about it hurting, a pained yelp running over your lips as the stinging in the back of your head takes over your senses. You reach out behind your back, fumbling for something to ground you, when a soft hand if offered up to you. You take it and squeeze out of pure reaction alone, finding that tethering yourself to John made it easier to ignore the pain. The more he patted the less it hurt until your breaths were coming in long and slow for the first time since you left the shop.

John clearing his throat makes you realise that you hadn’t felt a pat to the back of your head in a while. Keeping his mooring hand in yours you shuffle around to face him, your feet firmly planted to the ground with your body facing his, while one of his legs was tucked underneath him, allowing him to be facing you completely.

“It’ll sting for the next few days, but you’ll be alright.” You nod in understanding, not knowing what to say or how to even start on how grateful you felt that he had been there.

“How does the rest of me look, like I’ve been in a scuffle?” You ask with a humorous lilt to your voice. John quickly assesses your tear stained face with his eyes, smiling when it was done.

“Your cheek is a bit red,” he reaches up his spare hand and gently places it on your cheek, allowing his thumb to move back and forth in a feather light caress, “but that’ll be gone by the time you get home.” Seeing the brief panic flash in your eyes his reassures you, “I promise darl.”

Despite yourself you feel a smile form on your face. Whether it was John’s calming reassurances or his hand on your cheek while the other was still clutched firmly in your own, you didn’t know.

But what you were suddenly very sure of was John’s eyes had never looked bluer than they did right now, and his face never looked more handsome than when he looked at you with firelight dancing along his features.

You felt yourself getting overwhelmed the longer your eyes stayed on his face until your lip was trembling and your eyes were stinging with tears once again.

John pulled you in to him, resting one arm around your shoulders while one hand went to the back of your head, carefully avoiding your injured spot as he pulled you down so your face was resting against his firm chest when the first sob was pulled from your body.

He held you against him as you continued to cry. His fingers danced across your hair as he rocked you back and forth, shushes leaving his mouth with your name and softly spoken ‘it’ll be okays’ scattered throughout.

Your sobs died, as did John’s shushes, until you were acutely aware that you were being held in the safest arms you’ve ever been in. You allow yourself to pull back just enough to let you look up at John’s face and suddenly your breath was gone as his eyes met yours. You were speechless, swallowed whole by John’s tenderness and beckoning lips that seemed to be coming closer to yours with every punctuated beat of your heart.

The kettle whistling loudly in the background pries you both from your daze and has you clearing your throat to fill in the previous sound of your quiet, drawn-out breaths. With a small smile John is leaving you, pottering around in the kitchen until a cup of steaming coffee is in your hands and a much more respectable distance is between you both, one of his legs now resting over the other.

You take a careful sip of the offered drink, screwing up your nose to John’s short laughter when you realise that it was spiked.

“You needed something to take the edge off.” In any other circumstances you’d have been making yourself a new drink and chiding John for the cheek, but right now you gratefully accepted the warmth the hidden Whiskey offered you as you continued to sip.

You sat in contented silence, sipping lightly on your drink as John kept a weathered eye on you in between looking around the room and twiddling his thumbs.

“John?” His elbows now resting on his knees, his head in hands. He turns to look at you, giving you a small, genuine smile to encourage you on. “If you hadn’t of gotten there-”

“I should have been there sooner.” He bit out, throwing his back into the couch as he rubs a hand down the length of his face. “If I hadn’t agreed to one more drink-”

“I don’t want to hear that.” You cut off, making him look at you as you continued. “You were there when it mattered. And I don’t think I can ever repay you for that.” He smiles at you and you think it may have been the first one you’d seen that didn’t have some cheek or devilishness hiding just below the surface. You could feel your heart falter as you gave him a smile back, hoping that it conveyed all the thankfulness and warmth that had crept into your ribcage since he’d sat across from you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You all but whisper, nervously looking down into your nearly empty coffee cup before looking back into John’s face. He gives you a quick, singular nod, that genuine smile still planted on his lips. “Why do you keep asking me out every day?” He scoffs at you, shaking his head and looking at you incredulously, clearly in wonder that that was what had been so pressing you’d been nervous to say it. After everything that had happened.

“I mean it John. I’ve shot you down more times than I can count, and you come back in everyday as if the last didn’t happen. Am I that much of a pretty face?” You add cheekily, making him laugh at the memory of his words earlier that evening.

“You definitely are that much of a pretty face.” The cheek returns to his smile briefly before it flattens out into a more serious expression. “But you’re also the girl that takes the leftovers to the family that needs it, but definitely doesn’t deserve it.” Your cheeks heat in time with the prickles that raise the hairs on the back of your neck as you bashfully look into your lap before having the nerve to meet John’s piercing gaze. “And you’re the girl that takes over time because she knows her family needs it.” Your breathing halts before a tiny mangled, squeak sounds in the back of your throat.

All this time you thought that John had only been interested in you, the pretty faced bakery girl that wouldn’t give him the time of day when every other girl would. Little did you know he wanted you. All of you. He had really seen you, and maybe if you’d have afforded him the time of day you could’ve really seen him too, for who he really is. A younger sibling who loved his family, with a cheeky smile that hid a heart of gold.

“Speaking of family’s darl, if we don’t get you home soon yours is going to start a search party.” He accentuates his sentence with as playful rap of his knuckles on your knee. You grin before you down the little contents that remain in the mug and hover at the front door as John extinguishes the fire and locks up the house.

The walk to yours was quiet, no words needing spoken between you as you simply exist in each other’s company. Without warning you gently snake your hand into the crook of his elbow which he gladly accepts wordlessly.

You hadn’t realised how close you had been to your house before, or maybe the walk felt too short because you weren’t ready to leave John Shelby alone for the night. You both huff in unison as you stare at your door, both of you knowing you had to cross the threshold but neither of you wanting to separate from the other.

John softly spoke your name, making you slowly tilt your head to catch his gaze. His eyes flick between yours as he subconsciously licks his lips in thought.

“I know how you can make it up to me.” The light lilt in his voice let you know that he was joking and he didn’t actually expect payment for playing the hero. You nod anyway, happy to play along. “Go a date with me. A proper one, to a restaurant.” You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at John’s serious expression, as he seems genuinely concerned at what your answer could be. You stare at him in silence once your laughter had died, but the smile he had elicited stayed firmly in its place.

With a squeeze to his bicep, you lean in and place a lingering kiss on his cheek, reaching up onto your tiptoes to whisper into his ear.

“Do you think I’d miss it for the world?” You place your feet flat on the ground, reaching over to open your door and leave him in the night as you speak.

“Not a chance, John Shelby.”   

#john shelby x reader #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders reader insert #john shelby reader insert #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby fanfic #john shelby one shot #peaky blinder one shot #non-stop august #too many baes #too many baes non-stop august #no y/n #writing #mine

[lostgirlfandom]

Shorty

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 560

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

“THOMAS SHELBY!”  

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

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

“Yes, love?” He said calmly.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡No Is All｡⋆.

Thomas Shelby x plus size reader

No is a full sentence and maybe you need someone to remind you of that

Warnings: past abusive relationships, implied past SA, angst, reassurance, this is totally not a self-indulgent fics about my own relationships shut up, feeling pressured to have sex

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The thrill of a new romance is like nothing else. The tentative touches, the soft brush of his lips against your cheek, the butterflies that take flight in your stomach whenever he smiles at you. It was all so perfect but it would end soon.

Thomas Shelby was by no means a patient man, he took what he wanted and he always got it. Even before he set his sights on you, you had seen the way he killed and maimed, bribed and blackmailed until he became the most powerful man in all of Birmingham and you knew he was well on his way to conquering England.

And when he finally asked you out after months of his icy gaze watching you from across the Peaky Blinders’ offices, you knew this day was inevitable.

You steeled yourself when he told you that dinner would be at his house that night, “wear something nice” he said. You hid the bolt of terror that shot through your body with a smile. “Don’t I always?” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement as he pecked your full cheek before he left.

Your hands trembled as you picked out the nicest undergarments you owned, laying them out on your bed beside the dark green dress Tommy loved you in. The hot shower was a welcome distraction, you could focus on the familiar routine of washing yourself instead of the anxiety churning in your stomach as the sun gradually got lower in the sky.

Thomas was a handsome man, probably far more handsome than you thought you deserved, and he respected you. There had been times where you ended dates early just so you could go home and relieve the ache between your soft thighs because he was so overwhelmingly attractive. You knew he was talented in bed too, practically everyone in Small Heath knew that.

But you didn’t know if you were ready for the next step.

You reassured yourself that it was just nerves, the natural ones that come with the beginning of a new relationship. But as your doorbell rang, you felt your heart drop. You took in a shuddering breath and opened the door.

Tommy was lazily smoking a cigarette, the blue-grey smoke curling around his cap like a halo. “Hi.” Immediately the cigarette left his lips and he put it out under his expensive black shoes. He was wearing that charcoal grey suit that you loved and you could smell his cologne (the nice one) from a couple feet away.

“Ya look gorgeous.” Heat crawled up your neck and bloomed across the apple of your cheeks. He lovingly offered you his arm as you stepped down onto the street. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears, you thought he might be able to hear it. But Tommy just pulled you closer to him as you set off towards his house.

The wine bottle was empty, dessert finished, the dishes done. The flickering light of the fire illuminated the small living room in a comforting orange glow. The couch cushions cradled your body as you were pushed into them, Tommy’s weight keeping you pinned.

His jacket and tie had been discarded the second he asked if you wanted to have a glass of whiskey by the fire, leaving him more naked than you had ever seen him before. His white button-up did nothing to hide the supple muscles of his arms and torso.

The kisses started off sweet, just soft pecks on your cheeks, then your nose, then your jaw but soon enough, his face was buried in the crook of your neck, biting and sucking at the delicate skin. Your soft moans carried through the room as you clawed at his back.

It was nice, it felt good but when his right hand travelled from where he was gripping your wide hip to your thigh, you froze up. It was only for a second but with Tommy so close to you, with his lips against your pulse, he felt it.

“What’s the matter?” He was firm, straight to the point.

You shook your head. “It’s nothing. You can keep going if you want.” You tried to cup his angular jaw but he caught your hand before you could touch him.

“No. Tell me.” Light flickered across his face and for a moment, you were scared. 

Thomas Shelby could have anyone he wanted and he chose you, you should be giving something to him in return. Your blood ran cold with panic. “Y-you want to have sex with me.”

“Yes.” 

“So do it, I won’t stop you.” His eyes darkened and you saw the muscle in his jaw clench. Tommy squeezed your wrist tightly and suddenly you could see why so many feared him, calling him evil and a monster. You were powerless to stop him if he did decide to take you.

“I won’t take what I’m not given freely.”

“But-“

“No is all you need to say. I will wait until you are ready and not a moment before.” With a gentle kiss to your knuckles, he pulled away and sat back down on the other end of the couch, leaving you reeling.

This wasn’t right. “But I can take care of you.” The look he shot you shut you up immediately. 

“You aren’t ready, that’s the end of it.”

“But you’ll go to someone else!” Tears burned behind your eyes as you sat up.

“I’ve made do with my hand before, I wouldn’t cheat on you.” His voice held a note of irritation and you curled into yourself, the tears now dripping down your face, staining your dress with your despair. He sighed heavily through his nose before he took your hand once more. “You are more than just your body. I did not ask you to be mine because I just wanted to fuck you. I asked you because I wanted you.” He emphasised.

You sniffled and he cupped your cheek with his other hand. “So while I do want to fuck you, I won’t because you do not want it. I may be an evil man outside of these walls but I will never be that to you. Do you understand?” You nodded. “Good. Now be a good girl and come here.”

You fell into his arms as you continued to sob but Tommy just held you close as your tears faded and exhaustion won out. As quiet snores escaped your lips, he reached around to his jacket and grabbed a cigarette. One day, you would take him to your bed and he would worship you the way you deserve, the way you should have been worshipped. But until then, he was happy enough getting to hold you as you slept.

And he was right, no was all you had to say.

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