#thomas shelby drabble

[mayfieldss]

Your needs, my needs - Thomas Shelby

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

Warnings: mentions of blood and slightly suggestive content.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Perhaps some things can change."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:

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

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby drabble #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x yn #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fic

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Dessert Before Dinner

Summary: Tommy catches you sucking on a lollipop and he can’t let that go.

warnings: smut smut smut, incest, oral (female receiving), tommy creaming his pants, inappropriate use of candy, reader is tommy’s sister

The circular, hypnotizing movement of your tongue around the sugared sweet, and the way your lips curled over the tip so innocently retrieved Tommy’s longing stare from across the room.

His cock was hardening in his trousers from the poetic, sensual scene taking place before him.

Your e/c eyes scanned up, staring into his electric blue eyes with profound sexual intent.

No one seemed to notice the building desire, the fire building in Tommy’s crotch.

These were the games you loved to play, every singular day. Tommy all worked up before the family, wanting him to burst at the seams and have his way with you.

He nodded toward the stairs, a sly smirk spread across his lips as he put out his cigarette, the smoke dispelling into the atmosphere before he followed your ‘innocent’ footsteps up to your bedroom, that he was far too familiarized with for a brother.

Closing the door behind him, the cherry sucker sat sweetly between your glossed plump lips as you shed yourself of your robe.

Revealing the smooth, delectable figure of your nude body, leaving your brother breathless. You were a sight for sore eyes.

“Lay down my darling.” You did as he said. His tongue lapped over his lips when you spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt, shining like a golden treasure in the lost sea.

He crawled on his hands and knees, stretching up toward your face between your opened legs. 

He slowly shuffled his arm, popping the lollipop out from your desirable lips, his breath hot against your face, smelling of brimstone and peppermint.

In a moment of silence, you stared at each other with animalistic eyes, his chest resting against your cleavage, his erect, enclosed member pressed tightly against your throbbing pink pussy.

“You know the rules Y/N, no sweets before dinner.” He didn’t remove his pants, instead he trailed the sugary, sticky treat down your throat, riding agonizingly slowly between your heavenly, cushioned breasts, down your naval until he reached his coveted destination.

You were unable to hold back a gasp, your head falling effortlessly to the side of the pillow until his hand pulled your chin back to face him.

He pressed the sucker against your clit, rubbing the sensitive area with the cherry dessert. He watched intently as your eyes fluttered shut, watching the breath hitch in your throat, and your chest rise slowly.

His free hand rested upon your hardened nipple, rolling the sensitive skin between his experienced fingers. “Tommy..” Your voice was heavenly, laced with arousal and desperation for your dear brother.

He dove down like a sweet serenade between your thighs, his lips connecting with your clit as he pushed the lollipop into your sweet succulency. 

“Ohh, oh Tommy..” His lips curled in desire as he watched the lollipop disappear, your walls coating the sugary sweet treat with your nectar.

You could feel the circular shaped treat rub against your sensitive skin slowly at first. 

He knew your pussy like the back of his hand, knew how to push you over the edge wanting to hear you beg him for more.

Your eyes opened slowly in a desirable gaze. Always playing the purity act, a good little girl but you both knew that wasn’t true.

“More- more please.” His eyebrows raised with infatuation, pushing the candy further in, massaging your aching core. 

His tongue twirled deep into your dripping hole, lapping up your savory, delectable cherry juices, his eyes darkening when he glanced up, watching how you were completely losing yourself. He couldn’t stop himself from grinding down for friction against the satin sheets. Your hands clutched your feathery pillow desperately, your lips agape, melodic, lustful moans escaping from the profound, overwhelming feeling of his tongue, completely devouring your beautiful, over stimulated pussy. He didn’t miss a singular beat, rotating between sucking against your lips, leaving playful bites behind as he moved to your clit.

The candied sweet, becoming coated in your slick, as he quickened his motions, the hardened dessert drilling into your tight hole relentlessly. His tongue flicking in an up and down motion, before returning to the pool of slick leaving your body, sucking you dry, covering his face, in your insatiable, soaking mess. 

“Tom- Tommy I’m gonna-“ Your ankles shifted over his legs, your body trembling as your back arched to a perfect curve, pure ecstacy running up your spine, leaving your body in a coma-like euphoria.

“F-f-fuck, oh- fuck-“ His hands clutched your thighs roughly while he devoured your alluring, eager pussy, spilling it’s drenching slik all over Tommy’s experienced lips.

He simultaneously released himself, his moans pressed against your pussy as his warm seed spilled out in his underwear in a sticky, poetic mess.

Pulling the sucker out of your divine tunnel of pleasure, he layed the cherry sucker, coated in your mesmerizing taste of excellency, on his tongue, sucking up the remnants.

You watched his motions in a trance, his blue eyes turning a devilish, frigid shade of blue when he leaned down, locking eyes in a wistful, fucked out haze. “Let’s go to dinner shall we?”

#Tommy shelby #tommy x reader #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby drabble #Smut #ranaewrites #thomas shelby #tommy shelby drabble

[lostgirlfandom]

Affection

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x GN!Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 267

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

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

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

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

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

“What is this?” He spoke softly. 

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

He chuckled and teased back “Disgusting.”

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

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

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

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

[darlingsfandom]

How would Thomas Shelby react to being called pretty by the reader?

"Good morning darlin!" Thomas walked up behind you, wrapped his arms around you tightly and kissed your cheek while you were dropping the chopped up fruit into his oatmeal.

"Good morning pretty." You smiled to yourself. Thomas spun you around on your heels.

"What did you call me?" He tilted his head as you stood up straight and swallowed the lump in your throat. You were slightly scared to repeat yourself but you knew it was better to do it than just stand there. Thomas lifted your chin up with his finger and made you look him in the eyes.

"I called you pretty!" You blurted out. Thomas stood up straight before a smile creeped onto his face. You smiled up at him as you ran your hands over his chest and kissed his cheek.

"You think I'm pretty huh?" Thomas patted your head gently as you nodded along.

"Very pretty Thomas!" You grabbed his breakfast and set it on the table while he sat down and opened the paper since the food needed to cool down.

"You my dear, are very pretty yourself and don't you ever let anyone tell you other wise." Thomas motioned for you to bend down. You bent down and he kissed you softly on the lips. "And if they do.... I'll take care of them." He mumbled against your lips with a smile. You stood up straight and fixed his hair that was out of place .

"My pretty boy!"

#thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby blurb #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby drabble #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #thomas shelby #cillian murphy blurb #cillian murphy x you #Cillian Murphy #emsblurbs

[look-at-the-soul]

Hello, Mar! Hope you are okay! 🥰

This is a gif blurb female edition, I'm sending you the one and only Polly!

Not rush at all to write it! Just have fun ♥️

Hello Flor!!!! @raincoffeeandfandoms thank you so much for sending this gif in! I had the idea for a while, but between the holidays and all, I couldn’t write it back then.

it was so much fun writing for Polly and pissing Tommy off 😂 I hope you enjoy this little blurb! xxx

The ladies club

“You’re taking Y/N fucking where?!” Tommy spat banging his hand against the desk. “To a ladies club.” Polly repeated with all the calm of the world. But her nephew was fuming, eyes almost popping out from its place. “Absolutely the fuck not.” “So you’re telling me for your bachelor party, you can get to go with the boys to a gentlemen strip club, but Y/N isn’t allowed to enjoy a ladies night out?” “That’s different…” “How? Showing off tits is the same to show off-” “Stop it Pol, I said no.” Tommy protested through gritted teeth. Polly flicked her cigarette, ignoring her nephew’s death stare. “Relax Thomas you sound like an old man.” Then, taking her handbag from his desk she stood up. “Besides, everyone is going, Ada, Lizzie, Esme… even Linda!” She made the signal of the cross. “Pol…” “I’ll sent her off perfectly trained for your wedding night…” “I’m serious…” Tommy was heavily breathing like a bull. “Don’t worry they will be gentle…” Reaching the door, Polly found Y/N biting down her nails, terrified. “Polly I’m warning you.” The matriarch of the Shelby clan saw a thick vein pulsing against Tommy’s temple, jaw clenched. “Why should the boys have all the fun?” She asked as if it meant nothing. “Over my death body.” Tommy marched towards his fiancée furiously. “So what? Are you going to strip and dance for her?” Looking at the ceiling, he exhaled. If that would keep Y/N away from those greasy men…

#tommy shelby x reader #That’s what Cill said #Thomas shelby drabble #peaky blinders drabble #Tommy Shelby Drabble #Tommy Shelby x reader #Polly Gray imagine #Polly Grey imagine #Tommy Shelby blurb #Thomas shelby blurb #peaky blinders blurb

[romeulusroy]

Pedigree (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,211

A/N: Has it been a million bajillion kajillion years since I've written? Yes. Do I feel good about this? Yes strangely enough :P I've been reading a lot, so maybe that's helped. I haven't been feeling good lately, but this makes me feel better. It makes me think I haven't run out of words, that I'm not trapped in this block forever y'know? 💞  Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLISTS / TAG LIST 

You were out for blood. 

You wanted his head on a silver platter. Served to you. You wanted his mouth hung open, gory and gummy, his teeth pried from their sockets. You wanted his eyes, those eyes that bore so deeply into your marrow, eyes that undermined you every time he saw you, bright and cruel. Mocking. Pried wide open, watching his empire fall. The rest of him scattered. Discarded. Did it really matter? It used to. You used to fantasize about the day they brought him to you. All the ways you’d tear him apart, butcher him like he has done to so many. Leaving a single bullet hole, if he was lucky. Often, he wasn’t, not in your care. You wanted him to suffer the same way he has made you your entire life. Since then, you’ve come to a realization: those fantasies, with their theatrics, were childish. The kind of thing he himself would laugh at, call adorable, naive, cute. That laugh. It haunted you now. His head, his eyes, teeth, that is what you needed. He was all bark and no bite. Until then, you wouldn’t be satisfied. 

Once upon a time you worshiped him. He was your world, everything you wanted to be. Demanding, diplomatic, daunting. You wanted to follow in his footsteps, to rule with an iron fist. You did as you were told without a second thought, his toy soldier. You stitched a smile across your face every time he spoke to you, the anger and disappointment reigning in his voice, his words. How sharp they used to be, slicing you to ribbons. You’d be bleeding, hemorrhaging out on the floor by the time his speech was done. And when he was, when the air was thick with dismay, you collected your innards and thanked him, slipping back into the shadows until you were needed again. He spat insults at you from the time you could understand them. A few times you’d dodged a glass of something toxic, smashing into the wall behind you. Shards glittered across the floor, crackling beneath the soles of your shoes. It was your job to clean it up. It was your fault. Everything was. When a scapegoat was necessary, you were the first to come to mind. Given odd jobs beneath the rest. Ones that could have gotten you killed. Should have. Sometimes, you wished it had. Would that have made him care? Mourn your loss? Would there have been any change to his temperament? Probably not. There were always others desperate enough to slink their way into your position, the lowest of the low. Desperate enough to get close to him, to know what liquor he liked, what car he drove, what clothing he wore in hopes that it would rub off on them. Give them the same power. It made you sick. 

To him, you were nothing. Worthless. Incapable. There had never been a softness for you the way there had been for the others. You’d begun to think it was you. There was something wrong with you. Had you said something? Done something? Too many nights you lay awake, wondering what he could see that you couldn’t. There had to be a logical reason, hadn’t there? There had to be something in your flesh, your bones, your muscles. Something structurally, genetically, impossibly wrong. A speck in your eyes. An eyelash out of sorts. A freckle, a scar, a mark on your body that shouldn’t be there. Years you spent looking, watching, waiting for it to be explained so you could fix it and finally win him over. Small acts of kindness. Leaving him freshly picked flowers. Doing everything he said. Being well behaved. You stayed to yourself mostly, understanding things were different than before. He’d changed. They all had. He was monstrous. Hungry. Tormented. Every night you’d hear his screaming, crying out, crumbling from the inside out. In the morning, no one said a word. It’s been many years since then. You wondered if it was your memory distorting things, changing your own behaviors. No, no you were sure you’d been nothing but kind.

Whoever Tommy saw when he looked at you, whatever he saw, was not you. That much was clear. 

He blamed you for her death, Pol. He put that target on your back, on your chest, between your fucking eyes. The silence was the worst of it. The berating, the anger, the destruction, you’d grown used to it. It had become a dance, in a way. You knew all the right steps, all the best apologies, until he’d finally calmed down long enough for you to catch your breath, to straighten out the mess. Not this time. You were dropped from the family without a second thought. Ice ran through his veins. He wasn’t just changed, he was unrecognizable. Your throat was raw from pleading, sobbing, trying to get him to listen. To understand. On your hands and knees begging. You had no part in this, you were being framed. No one could believe you. You’d slipped up, gave out information you shouldn’t have. Thats the conclusion they came to. He didn’t just ignore you, he killed you. Murdered you. Everyone, everyone you ever loved, all the people you considered family, by blood and not, turned their backs on you. You wanted to pound your fists into the floorboards until they bled. You wanted to scream and cry and throw a tantrum. You would have prayed to a God that had never listened before that very moment if that meant he would give you a minute to defend yourself, proclaim your innocence, save your soul. The decision had been made, there was no going back. The Shelby name no longer belonged to you. It never would. If only you’d known how fast that title could be ripped from you. 

They moved on. None of them have reached out, spoken to you in secret. There were no letters, no calls, nothing. You grew a hard shell. Learned to adapt. To be on you own, completely alone. Without them, without him, you came to realize you were never the problem. You had never done anything wrong. You had not been born with a defect only he could sense. You were a child when he’d come back, so young, so fragile. You took his words to heart. All those years spent at the bottom, the youngest of the family, had taught you more than you ever thought. People believed him to be bulletproof. He was indestructible. Godly. You knew though, you knew the weakest parts of him. What kept him up at night. What drove him mad. You couldn’t get back all that time, all those years, your entire life. You couldn’t turn back the clock. You couldn’t make him change his ways. Those, he was too set in, a creature of habit. But you could make him pay. You could make him regret everything he’d ever said and done to you. Make him beg like you’d done countless times, your pleas ignored, berated. You could make him fear for his life. And when the time came, because it always would, you would not hesitate to pull the trigger the same way your brother had.

#writing #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby oneshot #thomas shelby drabble #peaky blinders #peaky blinders drabble #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders x reader #x reader #drabble #oneshot #shalby sibling #thomas shelby x sister reader #shelby sister #shelby sister x reader

[peakywitch]

hii!! how are you? some sweet!prewar!tommy? maybe like... wedding related? so everything is rlly rlly lower class and like... yeah, stuff. ONLY IF YOU CAN !! if not, dont worry :) thank uuuuuu <3 <3

omg hii! okay YES??? sLAY PRE WAR TOMMY I LOVE THAT PRE WAR PERSONA YES ok here it goes. (DISCL:Tommy is not christian I KNOW it's just god in a general sense as in like... energy, ok? and also, pretend y/n is christian bc it would make more sense lol)

please please send more blurb ideas

 “Marry me. Right here. Under these trees. Here, under the rain or under a church. God is everywhere. Marry me, right here, right now. Isn't God everywhere?” he asked, trying to help any doubt that I could possibly have at that moment.

Truth be told, I had none. I had no doubt in my mind I wanted to marry Thomas, it was him. I  knew he would be the one to offer me breakfast in bed on cold mornings, and would listen to any ramble I could ever come up with. I knew, in that moment, as I saw the water dripping from his hair, that he would never give half of him. He would, and I know he will, give everything he has and is, just to see me smile.

Tommy was the man I always wanted to marry. A man with a kind soul, a heart full of love and joy, compassion and he was hard-working. And, I cannot forget to address that smile. Oh, that smile. The biggest, most unforgettable smile. A smile that brightened up my days, that hid behind those lips that would whisper words sweet as honey during our morning. Those same lips that would kiss me to oblivion every single night, and those same lips that would encourage me and teach me everything he knew.

“Yes, yes He is.” I smiled, while my hands cupped his face. “He is, and I wouldn’t be able to care less if He was somewhere else. I just want to marry you. You, Tommy . Fuck churches.”

#tommy shelby fic #tommy x reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby headcanon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby drabble #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #the peaky blinders

[ikinremu]

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

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

Think Straight

Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader

! Smut Warning !

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

TOMMY HAS YOU TIED TO THE BED

Pairing - Tommy Shelby - fem!reader

Warnings - Bondage, p in v, rough, dub con.

Word count - 500+

Notes - Yayyyyy Tommy. Little drabble because he is a such a complex character to me.

As the door creaked open, Tommy couldn’t help but to smirk to himself. Right where he left you. Wrists bound to the bed frame as your head sloped over during your uneasy slumber, the bed sheets hardly covered your exposed, marked body. His heavy footsteps woke you as he headed to his mini bar whilst shredding off his jacket. 

“Enjoy your night?” You sneered, your throbbing head undulated as your body felt weak. 

“It was decent” Tommy replied coolly, his back to you as he poured himself a double shot of whiskey and walked over to you. “But I longed to return home to you” he admitted as he sat on the edge of the bed beside you. 

“Lucky me” you grinned sarcastically, your eyes lingered on the tumbler, it triggered your dry throat to pulsate. 

“Thirsty?” He inquired, an innocent smile on his lips. 

You nodded gently and leaned yourself towards the glass. But he swapped it to his opposing hand and held it away from the bed. As you pouted to him, Tommy laughed in a dark tone as he placed it on the bedside table. Gradually, Tommy climbed on top of you and leant his head close to yours, your noses brushed against each other.

“Then be a good girl for me tonight, eh?” He whispered, the scent of alcohol suffocated your smell. 

Tommy pulled the sheets off of your bare skin and admired the markings that he had given you within the past day. It gave him a sense of complete ownership, your body was for his taking. He tugged his shirt over his head and threw it aside. 

“You can’t keep me here forever” you grumbled. 

The fresh scratches on his chest were still yet to heal, it was his own fault, he miscalculated your strength. Tommy leant down and kissed you deeply, you compelled, not wanting another bruised mark on your skin, your hands naturally tugged at the rough rope, as they urged to wrap themselves around his upper body. 

Tommy freed his throbbing length with one hand and caressed your torso with the other. His fingers ran over your swollen entrance and you gulped, unsure if your body had recovered from earlier today. 

“By the time I untie you, you won’t want to leave” he smiled as he pressed the sides of your faces together. Steadily, he lined up his tip to your entrance. 

“Cocky gypsy bastard” you moaned as you felt his length slowly push inside your wet canal. 

There was a quick moment of silence as Tommy focused on pushing himself completely inside of you first. Slowly, he slipped in inch by inch to tease you. Done so to purely enjoy your soft, sweet moans. 

“And your father is a cocky Irish scum. Which led you here, right beneath me” Tommy countered eventually. There was no counter argument from you, to hell with both of them. “Might as well get used to me, he won’t want you anymore when he finds out what you’ve been up to. He might shoot you for treason” Tommy chuckled cruelly, his hands pulling up your hips from the mattress as your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fuck you Tommy” you hissed, as you tugged on the restraints and turned your face away from his in anger. 

“You’re doing that right now sweetheart” Tommy snickered as he nibbled on your earlobe, picking up his pace without care.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #smut #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby

[mistress-riddle]

𝐌𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐁𝐘.

✐ 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

cw - tommy shelby x mother! reader. reader has a daughter and tommy is not the father lol. mostly fluff and humour, tommy beefs with an almost 4 year old but what’s new?

a/n : this was a request however i lost the actual request 🤷🏻‍♀️

"sweetheart, are you ready?" [name]'s voice rang throughout the house as she finished placing her coat over her outfit, rummaging through her purse to see if she had enough money to do her shopping shortly after.

"yes, mummy!" came the reply from her daughter in a sweet childish voice as she ran up to her mother who held her arms wide open for her baby to run into and balance on her waist.

she took sight of dana's face with her chubby cheeks and felt overwhelming affection cross through her "come here!" giggles erupted into the air as [name] peppered kisses all over the little girls face.

"alright, little bug," she says as she sets her down and looks directly at her "we need to go to the market but before that we'll go and see mister curly, is that good?" she asks the girl and in return receives a nod of glee.

"good, let's go!"

.

hand in hand, [name] and her daughter exited their house, arms swinging merrily as they made their way to the stables curly worked in. it was fate that they stumbled upon the place during one of their strolls intended to familiarise themselves around the city, having just moved to small heath less than 4 months ago after the death of the patriarch of the family.

small heath, despite its unpleasant parts (it seemed quite grime and dirty most of the times), had its charms. the people were alright — curly was friendly! — and it was not extremely hectic like london was. at least she thought so, she heard about something called "peaky blinders" mentioned every now and again but they were usually in hushed whispers and she found that it did not concern her as she lived peacefully with her daughter.

"good morning, mister curly!" [name] greeted curly upon their arrival. dana was quick to detach from her mother and approach curly with an eager smile and hug. the kind man took it in stride and with an equally jovial smile and he was quick to lead the young girl to the beautiful horse snacking on the scattered hay before it.

"a good morning to you too, missus [surname]" he replied shortly after, tipping his head in greeting like a gentlemen and a smile made it's way onto the widows face as she turned to look at dana rubbing her face against one of the horses fur.

"dana, we won't spend long here alright?" a pout formed on her daughters lips at the declaration and [name] mentally prepared herself to win whatever argument that would rise from her daughter.

"okay, mummy." the girl sighed in defeat and [name] approached her to press a kiss on the crown of her head for being an obedient child before she pat the horse her child was caressing.

"what was he called again, love?" [name] asked as she turned to look down at her daughter who smiled brightly. she loved animals but horses in particular seemed to have caught her little self's attention.

"he's moby, mummy," dana said, hands resting on her waist much like her mum would often do "you should know that."

"I forgot sweetheart, must be turning old." she chuckles and checks her watch before patting her daughters shoulder "now, let's get going, honey."

"goodbye mister curly!" dana waves at the man who waves back and [name] gives a milder wave of her own. the two begin to walk slowly to the market as the mother starts to instruct dana.

"hold onto my hand or my coat at all times, okay?" she tells her daughter.

"yes, mummy."

"I don't want you to get lost, babygirl. I'll get you a treat for being a good girl, alright?" [name] pinches her cheek when they arrive at a stand in the market and she starts checking the items being sold as the man behind the cart occupies her attention.

dana's attention, however, is captured by the neighing of a horse nearby and she gasps at the sight of moby striding through the streets with an unfamiliar man settled upon him. she is quick to leave her mothers side to get a better look at the man who stole moby. once he catches sight of her, he slows the horse to warn the young girl.

"out of the way, love." he says. voice gruff and so unlike the tone her mum would use to warn her and so dana stubbornly shakes her head and crosses her arms. he watches her as she watches him, a deep frown settled on her lips and eyebrows set in passionate defiance. anyone could see that the girl was not going to comply with anything and so the man sighs and mounts off the horse. he holds the reigns in his hand as he begins to head towards the girl with the horse following and takes his place in front of her, kneeling down to meet her gaze.

"can you move out the way, please?" he repeats, tone much softer this time. the girl still shakes her head and the mysterious man wearing a peaked cap shuts his eyes in annoyance.

the words she says causes him to flash his eyes open--

"sir, that horse is not yours."

she says it with so much confidence and certainty that he finds himself confused as she points towards the horse planted firmly behind him.

"pardon?" he asks, bafflement evident on his expression.

"how can you steal him from mister curly? mummy told me stealing is very rude and not nice. so stealing from mister curly is very rude and very mean. what if I went into your house and stole something important from you, would you not be sad? because I know I would."

in the midst of this occurring, the citizens of small heath take in the spectacle before them. eyes trained and mouths agape at the sight of the most dangerous man in birmingham being scolded by someone, nevermind a little girl, about stealing of all things.

tommy's face relaxes "first off, this is my horse," he claims, running a hand down monaghan boy's head "second, where's your mummy?"

"she's shopping" she quickly answers, dismissing him "but I'm here to stop you from stealing moby, mister thief."

"moby? mister. thief?" tommy repeats in mild amusement as his brow arches.

"dana, sweetheart, where are you?" [name]'s voice calls out and she breaks through the crowd to see a man kneeling with a hand shoved into his pocket in front of her highly irritated daughter.

"what's going on here?" she asks as she arrives to stand behind her daughter with her hands placed collarbones, hugging her body close to her torso in protection as mild panic settled onto her pretty features.

"I'm assuming you're the mum?" the man asks as he stands up straight and [name] takes this opportunity to scan his appearance thoroughly. he was a good looking man, seemingly based on the attire he bode, she took notice of the cigarette he almost wore as an accessory.

"you're right, is there a problem?" she confirms and levels his gaze despite how piercing it was.

"this little girl-" the man was interrupted by dana turning in her arms with angry tears threatening to spill from her eyelids "mummy, this man stole moby from mister curly and he's not wanting to give him back!"

[name]'s eyebrows furrow together as she looks at her daughter before lifting her head to see the man roll his eyes.

"miss," he interjects "your daughter will not allow me to pass despite my ownership of the horse, curly is my employee." he clarifies but dana just turns to [name] to rebut as she's not convinced.

"mummy, tell curly to come here and see if this man is telling the truth." the older woman was about to deny her request but dana widened her doe eyes and persisted and so, [name] sighed as she told her to stay in her spot before hurrying over to the stables nearby.

"I don't have time for this." tommy goes to move but dana screams in protest and he freezes.

"stop that." he demands the girl and she sticks her tongue out at him and if this situation wasn't a bit irritable on his behalf, he would have laughed but that didn't stop the half scoff, half chuckle from leaving his lips.

"fine, I'll stay until 'mister curly' shows up." dana moves closer to the man to pat the horse.

"it's fine moby, I'll save you from this mean man." she says in a loud whisper and tommy merely raises an eyebrow at her.

"alright everyone, keep moving." he claps his hands together beckoning the onlookers to briskly walk away and proceed their previous activities.

"I'm so sorry, sir." curly limps over to the man who just nods as a sign of dismissal of the apology and motions to the child clutching onto the horse.

"dana, come 'ere." curly takes the girl away to explain to her and [name] stands before the man and offers him an apology of her own.

"I'm very sorry, mister shelby?" she says with a bit of an intonation at the end and the man nods "we're new here and not really sure as to how this place works, I'm very sorry if my daughter offended you in any way and ask you to forgive her for she is merely a child."

"I'm not a monster, despite what you might've heard." he chuckles "she's a loyal child who wants to stop something bad from happening to someone or something she loves, you raised her good." he nods, as if agreeing with himself and looks at the girl who was walking guiltily over to the two and [name] gives a small smile in return.

"thank you, is there anyway we could make it up to you?" she asked, picking up her daughter to rest on her hip.

"well, I'd like an apology from this little lass" he taps the tip of dana's nose and she crinkles it cutely in response "and an address from you." he says after a bit of a pause.

"address?" [name] inquires, confused and intrigued as well as worried.

"fear not, I'm not the grim reaper asking for your souls." he smirked as he caught [name] looking apologetic at her hesitance, lower lip released from the clutch her teeth had against it "I'd like to invite you both to something."

"I see," [name] smiles with a nod before whispering in dana's ear something and the little girl looks at the man with a frown on her lips.

"I'm sorry for saying bad things about you mister, it was wrong of me and I'm very, very sorry." she looks at him with teary eyes.

"you're alright," he pinches dana's cheeks softly "I'm sure moby would appreciate you trying to protect him."

"can I still see him?" she asks, hope lacing her words and the man nods.

"thank you, sir!"

"thank you a lot, mister shelby."

"anytime, miss?"

"[surname], [name] [surname]." she flashes him a smile before taking her leave with her daughter still in her arms who gives the man a big smile that has him returning a smaller one.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby scenario #thomas shelby #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders

[mayfieldss]

Point blank - Thomas Shelby

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you too, Tommy."

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

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

PEAKY BLINDERS TAGLIST:

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fic #thomas shelby one shot #thomas shelby drabble #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #thomas shelby smut #tommy shelby #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagines #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x yn #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fic

[wutheringcaterpillar]

Tommy Shelby convincing his wife to stop being angry at him after an argument

Thank you again so much!

warnings: Reader is insecure and Tom is an ass still learning to love, fluff

“I’m not angry, I’m livid Thomas! You completely embarrassed me tonight, and had the audacity to place me at a dinner table with a woman that wants to fuck my husband!” He rolled his eyes carelessly, fully understanding why you were upset but denying the simple state of your feelings before raising his voice. “Maybe you would have understood had your simple mind set aside your inner personal problems and not been consumed by a ridiculous, saddening amount of jealousy!” You jaw dropped in astonishment at what he had said, before your anger mixed into sadness. Whipping your head around, you rushed out of the room, finding yourself taking solace in the bedroom.

He followed you, brushing his hand down his face in worry as he knew he had gone too far. You were just a delicate little thing that knew close to nothing about business but he hadn’t intended for her to be there at the meeting.

When he walked through the door and saw you sitting on the disheveled sheets, weeping into you palms, he knew he had gone too far and shouldn’t have raised his voice at you.

He knew you were a delicate little thing that could be insecure just based off of the previous women he had been involved with. Not only were they beautiful, but they also knew how to bargain and handle business affairs. But he had never, ever intended to throw your worries and concerns in your face in such a manner. He loved you deeply and was still learning how to show you, how to respect your boundaries. In his eyes you were his rock, the most beautiful woman in the world whom always treated him with such kindness and patience.

Taking his seat next to you on the mattress, he slowly attempted to place his arm around you but you nudged him away, not wanting a single thing to do with him at this very moment.

Sighing, his eyes scanned the room, contemplating the best way to handle this without screwing it up.

When he spoke, it was with sincerity, his voice was as soft as a loving dove. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to say that. With business comes hardships and we will fight. We will be mad at each other, most likely because of myself.” He heard you chuckle lightly through the tears, catching his attention.

“But I truly did not know she would be attending and I should have told you of her intentions.” Your cries were beginning to simmer down when you found the courage to turn toward him, staring into his blue eyes that radiated kindness, no anger apparent.

When he saw you tear-stained face he wanted to kick himself, to rewind and wish he had never even arranged this business deal at the expense of your feelings. His eyebrows furrowed together, his thumb tracing away your tears as his lips pursed together in regret.

“She smirked at me Thomas… She blatantly said to me in the kitchen she would win you over, she told me I was just a chess piece in a game I’d never understand nor win.” Thomas hadn’t known that, if he did he would’ve thrown them out of your home, had the whore walking home in fear for her life, taking everything from her in just a matter of minutes, completely demolishing any confidence or thought that she would have a chance with him.

His hand clenched together in anger while he tried to avoid becoming more aggressive than he had already been tonight. It was one thing to disrespect him, but you were far more important, and far more vulnerable at times than he was and he drew a line when it came to anyone speaking to his beloved wife in such disgust manner.

“Believe me when I say, this deal is off and you won’t ever see her again. The dumb blonde was talking out of her ass, and I will not stand for someone disrespecting my wife. She could never compete with my strong, loving, overly attractive Y/N. No woman would ever come between us my darling. Nonetheless, you are my rock, and have put up with the darkest sides of me and still choose to stand by me as I do you and that will never change my love.” A small smile formed on your face while the anger, and hatred in the room seemed to fade out, and simmer down.

Pulling you into his arms, you nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, the warmth of his skin and the smell of cigarettes bringing immense comfort to your body, causing your bones to relax and not be so stiff and full of tension anymore.

He held you tight, rubbing slow circles over your back as he felt your breathing become more subtle and on track. From this moment forward he knew he had to do better, he didn’t want to imagine a life without you in it, he wouldn’t.

He had never felt so lucky to have you, and was still trying to change his ways for you, even if it was the slightest amount just to keep you near and dear at his side, just where had had wanted you. Placing a soft, chaste kiss to your silky, delicate skin as he hugged you tightly, brushing one hand through the strands of your hair lovingly while he whispered endless apologies, never wanting to upset you in this manner ever again.

#Thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomad shelby drabble #ranaewrites #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #tommy shelby drabble

[queers-gambit]

If Speaking is Silver, Then Listening is Gold

a Turkish proverb

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

pairing: Tommy Shelby x hard of hearing female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 4.4k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You asked me three times!" She raged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked in shock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mr. Shelby," Harry nodded.

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

"Hmm?"

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

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

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

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

"Someone run into you, again?"

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

Tommy shook his head, gritting, "Who?"

"Tommy."

"Tell me who, love."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

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

This caused a huge commotion, obviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shrugged, "Nothing important."

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

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

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

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

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

There was a heavy, looming feeling of being inadequate.

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

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

Fucking assholes.

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

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

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

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

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

So much for a quiet night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's that mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I don't need an escort."

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

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

"We can drink at home, love."

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

"Why?"

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

"You didn't."

"Huh!?" You yelped.

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

"No?"

"No, not fired."

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

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

"You already know, I'm sure."

"I want your truth."

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

Tommy followed not far behind.

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

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

"Talk to me," he pleaded.

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

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

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

Tommy nodded, just listening.

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

"What would help?"

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

He smirked slightly, but the sight angered you.

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

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

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

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

You paused, just staring at him in mild shock.

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Why would I joke?"

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

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

"Like what?"

"Like Chief of Operations?"

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

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

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

"Because of your hearing?"

"Or, you know, lack there of."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe?"

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

"Good."

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

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

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

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby peaky blinder #tommy peaky blinders #peaky blinders tommy #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic

[darlingsfandom]

Tommy Shelby with an artist!reader who loves painting him or drawing something for him? A drabble would be lovely ☺️

I'm sorry I didn't see this earlier !!

FLUFF!!

The clock on the wall sent out another loud ring in the air meaning another hour had passed since you found yourself in the library while Thomas was out on a business meeting. You hated his business meetings when they weren't at the house because it means less time being around him.

You had been focused on the easel in front of you that you didn't notice that Thomas had came home from the meeting. The tip of your tongue was poking out side your lips, your eyebrows were connected in concentration as your fingers held the paint brush carefully as you dragged the emerald paint across the canvass. A small huff left your lips when you stepped back to look at the painting of a little cottage you had seen awhile ago when you traveled countryside with Thomas.

"It's beautiful." Thomas spoke up as he stood there with his hand holding a glass of whiskey and the other in his pocket.

"Why , thank you. I didn't think you'd be home so soon, I can move my stuff..." You started before Thomas walked over to you and pecked your lips.

"It's fine darlin, I see why you enjoy making your art in here." Thomas gave you another kiss as he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and looked at the painting with his head tilted. "You really are an excellent artist darlin. Even had one of my men ask where I got that portrait in the main room done. Told him my beautiful and talented wife did it." You smiled up at Thomas before leaning into you and laying your head against his chest. "Told him, if he wanted a painting, it cost a pretty penny." He kissed your head before taking a sip of his whiskey .

"Thomas.... how would you feel about a nude painting?" You tucked your bottom lip in as he arched an eyebrow at you.

"Well darling, that is very bold. I wouldn't mind. The real question is..." He leaned into you and rubbed his nose against yours. "Can you last that long without trying to fuck me?" He smirked as his lips brushed your lips. You whined a little at the thought before Thomas took your paint and set it down , grabbed your hand and lead you to the couch.

"Maybe one night I'll take you up on that offer, but tonight I just want to lay with you and love on you." Thomas sat down first before you sat on his lap with your back to his chest. It was peaceful being in his arms. You felt loved and you never questioned how much Thomas loved you.

#thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby #thomas shelby fluff #thomas shelby Drabble #thomas shelby blurb #peaky blinders #cillian murphy fluff #cillian murphy blurb #Cillian Murphy #emsblurbs

[madeinparadis]

NIGHTLY SORROWS | THOMAS SHELBY

pairing: thomas shelby × reader

tw: grief (reader is dead), angst

word count: 724

masterlist: all characters

a/n: this is more of a drabble, just a little something i wrote before bed. italics signal a flashback/memory.

Far into the winter, all of Birmingham was covered in fog and cold. The houses were dimly illuminated by the bleak sunshine during the day, then engulfed by darkness in the later hours, and Arrow House was no exception, looking and feeling particularly gloomy. Despite all efforts done by staff to make it warm and hospitable for its owner, the most important part of it was lost forever, and could never be replaced- you.

The clock on the bedside table read one o'clock. Tommy sat in what was once your shared bed, now only his. His mind was playing tricks on him yet again, clouding his conscience with visions of you, the feeling of longing and regret leaving a bad taste on his tongue.

No matter the circumstances, Thomas Shelby wouldn't ever say he is an emotional or sensitive man. With all the horrors he's seen, all the men he's brutally murdered, the business he leads, there was just no space in his life for feelings. Even so, that doesn't mean they didn't plague him- in fact, they took over his mind at every given chance. Every time he let himself breathe and relax his muscles, he was taken there, to a place where you exposed the thoughts and emotions buried the deepest in his consciousness.

"Tom?" you called, a smile painted on your face. Oh, this was one of his favourite memories. "Look, I want you to see this." your request caught his attention, making him glance up at you, taking notice of the new garments on your frame. "What do you think?" you gestured at your outfit. "The seamstress finished it earlier today. I'm thinking of wearing it the charity event next week."

If only he didn't take you to that ball...

"It looks perfect. you're always beautiful, love." Tommy replied, watching you change back into your nightgown, joining him in bed- back when it was still both his and yours to share.

"Fuck." he spoke in a low, tired tone. He had to get his shit together, stop reminiscing, he thought to himself. Well, perhaps later he would- for now, he wanted to keep you around, in whatever way possible.

The hours went by as Thomas drowned himself with work in the office, a poor attempt to drown out the thought of you. He got up from his chair, dragging his tired self to the cabinet and pouring himself a glass of whisky. Sitting behind the desk again, he drank up the contents of the glass in one uninterrupted take, setting it on the wooden desk quite harshly.

For a second, his head was empty. Then, there you were- the vision of your ghost like an oasis sighting to him. You took a step closer to him, standing behind the office desk as you rested your hands on his shoulders, earning a relieved sigh from Tommy, who leaned into your touch almost desperately.

"Did you miss me, darling?" Your voice was like medicine to his soul, making the pain drift away while he heard it- except it made his heart ache even more after, when he was reminded you weren't truly there anymore.

"Everyday, love." He replied with a tormented tone.

"You know you can't keep living like this, Tom. Our son needs a father." You spoke softly. "He needs you."

"There's no joy in this house without you, (y/n). Charlie misses you just like me, everyday."

You remained silent for some time, offering comfort with your touch rather than words. Tommy accepted every gesture of yours, taking every second he could get with you.

"It's not your fault, Tom. There was nothing you could do to prevent that bullet from reaching me." You spoke up again, kneeling down until your lips reached his ear. "Do you remember my last request to you, just before I died?"

"To be good to Charlie, take care of him." The expression on his face was pained as he answered your question, reminding him of your last moments on earth.

"Exactly. Have you gotten him a horse yet?"

"Yes. I bought him one for Christmas, a good breed."

"That's good. Be patient with him, Tom. He's got a strong-willed spirit like yours."

Tommy felt your lips on his cheek, looking up to see your face. But just like that, you were gone once more.

#madeinlisbon #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #cillian x reader #charlie shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #grace shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #winter #angst #drabble #my writing

[romeulusroy]

Lamb (Thomas Shelby Drabble)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 979

Inspired By: Sunlight by Hozier

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writinqss @brithedemonspawn @ladyeliot @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @valckenaux @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes @lucillethings @glitchybrit

A/N: I want this song to be injected into my veins first of all. Second, I knew I had to write something about this man and I actually really love it a lot! Shocker, I know :P I wrote this in a lil over twenty minutes and it's probably v weird, but I like it and I hope you do too! 💞  Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

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You neither wanted nor pined, but expected. To want is not to have. You understood that what you did not yet have, you would get. Always. No one ever said no to you. All your wishes would be granted and if not? You’d find someone else. Someone faster, someone to fall onto their knees and pray to you, to speak when they are spoken to, for their heart to beat only when you say so. Undying, undivided attention. It would be there waiting for you, wherever you pleased, wrapped in a box with a bow. Perfume, new shoes, or a severed head. You expected it to be served to you on a silver platter, preferably still pulsing. Gushing. Enough life left in them to meet your eyes one last time. For your name to escape their lips as they take their final breath. A picture of the body, long dead, would always suffice, but you’ve always had a flare for the dramatics. You want to pluck the smoking cigarette from their mouth and take a drag, watching the life pour from their wounds, pooling into deep puddles. A stain no one could get out no matter how hard they tried. Spatter across the walls, seeping into the wallpaper, into the wood, the very bones of the house. You want to leave death in the structure itself, curse it with your actions until the end of time. 

Death will always have a far longer shelf life. 

Thomas could never give you everything you ever expected. His love, his attention, it waxed and waned with the moon herself. She and him, the two caught perpetually within their moods, their fixations and fears. She, attending to her stars, her constellations strung in her sky as pearls. He, and his business, his blood, his own brood to care for. The hours of the day ran short. Between them, there was little left for you. A lover, a warm body, but little more. His affection only for his bottles. Sticky innards, burning all the way down. He lived for too much. For others, for booze, for his goddamn work, even out of spite. Curse a god he wouldn’t dare put his faith into instead of worshiping you, the very ground you walked on. You were a temple, an unmarked church, but he bowed for no man. Countless would have taken his place. Give up everything to share a second in your presence, your grace, but not him. Distracted. Tortured. Cruel, whether or not he intended to be. Left you like a piece of art, sitting pretty, anticipating the next time he gazed over you. It’s what he did. Who he was. You knew there was more before you, a history, a party of play-things. All of them gladly waited, polished and poised, frustrated only when he asked them to be, fighting without conviction, none of them growing tired or bored. The great, the spectacular, the handsome and powerful. You had enough power on your own, you didn’t need a mortal dragging you down to his level. Let him keep the bar stool, the familial ties, the lonely nights the fog covered his mistress in the cold night sky. Let them both rot. 

You were the fucking sun. 

Blazing, burning, violent. Bright, but contained. Determined. Stubborn. You kept your dignity, your poise, packing your things, cursing his name. Coming home to an army never felt so warm. They would live and die for you, none of them blinded by their own egos. They understood your word was the good word, that turning their backs would set them aflame. Loyal dogs, humble servants. You’d always craved more, though. More than him, at least. He could have the others fooled, but you saw right through it. The facade. A man so sure of himself, his insecurities weigh heavy, snapping his spinal cords to dust. You couldn’t imagine a love, a lust, as uninspired as his. Lackluster. Half alive. You needed your lover to crumble at your every word, your every whisper. To fall into you as if you were their lifeline, the only thing they ever needed in this world. To subject themselves to a vulnerability only gods have borne witness, the stark nude of a soul willing to risk their every mortal fiber for an ounce of affection. You needed your Icarus and when he wasn’t him, when he shielded his eyes from you, hid in the shadows, you cut your ties all together. Enough time had been wasted on a man like him, a selfish being surviving without true purpose. 

Nothing gained, nothing lost. 

You fell back into place without fault. There was talk, there always would be. A broken heart seeking vengeance. A ruin. A burning star. Your actions, your wrath, were driven neither by rage nor sorrow, but an equally dangerous driving force: reputation. You couldn’t let him get away with it, treating you so poorly. An afterthought? You, of all people? They had words to describe you, some of the worst known to man, but second choice would not be one of them. Equal to a knife to the back, the spine, perhaps even worse. You’d make him pay for smudging your image, humanizing you when you should be feared, feral. Adored. Revered. Honored. Pined after, sacrificed to. You expected his body on the cross, on a stake, burning before all as a warning sign for the next person who believed themself more holy, more knowing. You would not be made to be a fool, you refused to be mocked. The devout would find him, hunt him down when the timing was right, and do as they needed not to fall from grace the way he has. He walks with skinned knees and scratched palms, unaware of what's to come. Of what his creator has planned for him. 

It will be beautiful. . .

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