#thomas shelby obe

[jm-2406]

Summary - Tommy Shelby has been slowly drifting away from his only son after losing his wife. You are a nurse specialising in children's wards. When Frances comes running to the hospital with little Charlie in her arms, you decide to give a piece of mind to the bigshot gangster.

Words - 1.5k

Note - this is silly. I wrote it in less than one hour. It features an OOC Tommy Shelby and a daring reader who doesn't fear him like others.

Tommy Shelby, MP OBE was not used to getting calls between meetings, especially from his loyal housekeeper who knew when not to bother him. He was busy dealing with some important people, drowning himself in work like he usually did after Grace passed away. It was not that he didn't care for his son but sometimes looking at him was too difficult for him, the little boy had so much of Grace in him. So imagine his surprise when instead of Frances it was someone else on the other side of the telephone.

"Mr Shelby, I'm not Frances. My name is (Y/N) and I'd like to let you know that your son is not well. You should come as soon as possible to the hospital." You informed him without any hesitation, the concern for Charlie made your nervousness take a back seat plus not looking directly at his blue eyes also helped in retaining your confidence.

"What happened to him?" His lazy drawl came as a reply. "Well if you insist…" You tried to stall, tried to get under his skin so that he'd come to see his son but his silence made you speak up. "Mr. Shelby, I understand that you are grieving but so is your son. He was having a nightmare and needed someone to hold him close, to soothe him. I'd say he needed his father, not his nanny or Frances. Help yourself and your son by being there for him." Without thinking about the consequences, you pour your heart out and immediately hang up.

• • •

It has been a few days since the incident. You were worrying about Charlie and went to meet him directly at 'Arrow House'. [Yes, you are daring and a risk taker]. You knocked gently, arranging the basket of freshly baked cookies for the three-year-old cherub in your arms.

"Who are you?" A deep male voice caught your attention. Looking up, your breath got caught in your throat. Standing in front of you was the man of the house himself, Thomas Shelby. "What are you doing here?" You questioned foolishly instead. In your defence, you did not know that he'd be home at eleven o'clock since it was a Tuesday. He merely raised his eyebrow at your remark.

“If you didn't know Miss, this is my house. I live here.” Your cheeks reddened and you turned around to escape when a high-pitched voice stopped you. "(Y/N)" shouted Charlie. "Call her inside daddy. She's my friend." He said - more like ordered - his father who complied with a small "as you say, son." You felt a sense of comfort seeing the father and son interacting almost normally after that phone call incident.

Nervously, you stepped inside and Frances immediately took your coat as well as the basket of cookies. Charlie ran inside to get his colouring pages and asked you to wait for him. You were looking here and there, avoiding the dark-haired man but he had other plans.

"Thank you," Tommy said. You furrowed your brows in confusion. He cleared his throat and elaborated. "For making me realise that I was unknowingly neglecting my son, pushing him away from me. I love him, I really do. Thank you for making us come closer." He was not a man of words, especially praises but something about you got him talking, was it your kind nature, your non-judgemental eyes or your stern yet concerned voice when you called him that day that made him open up to you, he didn't know… but that is a topic for later.

"You're welcome, Mr Shelby. Charles is a sweet boy. I wish well for him." You blushed, no one had said such kind words to you. "How about you join us for dinner? Charlie would like that." Tommy said unexpectedly. Just as you were about to deny it, considering it rude to intrude, Charlie came running to you asking you to stay and colour with him. You couldn't say no to that adorable face.

And that's how you spent the evening, laughing and enjoying the company of two Shelby men, happier than ever.

• • •

[PART - 2]

It has been almost half a year since that evening you spent in the company of the Shelby men and you couldn't help but feel lucky. Everything went uphill after that, luckily.

You found out that you and Tommy had a lot in common which was surprising in itself. You both were mostly emotionally detached but were willing to cross any line if it meant saving your family, you both liked to read though Tommy was secretive about it for reasons you still didn't know, and nothing could surpass the love you had for horses, those strong yet gentle beasts were the only faithful friend you had… except for each other.

While your thoughts started to roam in dangerous territory, you were still unsure of Tommy's feelings on the matter. You have heard that the man was ruthless and incapable of feeling affection but you saw a side of him that was hidden from the world, his gentle and loving sight, his respectful side… you were certain that what you felt for him may not be love but it wasn't anything less. You decided to ignore this newfound feeling, unsure of what he felt.

The sudden knock on your door pulled you out of your thoughts. "What-?" You were confused about finding a drunk Tommy Shelby on your doorstep. "(Y/N) How are you my angel?" He continued to stare at you making you realise that this was an actual question and not a rhetorical one. "I - uhh - I am fine Tommy. What are you doing here at midnight?" You pulled him inside.

The sight of a drunk Tommy Shelby lying on your cheap broken sofa with the bottle of Irish whiskey clasped in his hand was unusually tempting and soft, as he gazed up at you with his bright blue eyes.

"Charlie loves you (Y/N). Did you know he was calling for you earlier today?" He whispered and gulped the remaining of the whiskey immediately after.

"No Tommy. I am sorry. I was busy today." Your heart broke hearing about the little boy calling for you and not finding you by his side. "Yeah. Being a lifesaver is not easy, eh?" He said rhetorically this time, placing his hands on your waist. The cool of his hands seeping through the thin material of your nightgown.

"I asked him to be a well-behaved little boy and I'll bring you to him… maybe permanently what say?"

You gasped hearing his words, not knowing what he was suggesting. "Tommy… you're drunk. We'll talk about it in the morning if you still remember what you said." You pushed him to your bedroom, tucking him in like you'd do for Charlie. taking the spare pillow and blanket, you laid down on the sofa.

• • •

"You alright Mr Shelby?" You asked giving him a painkiller. He looked at you with wide eyes, just like Charlie would… The resemblance between them always melted your heart.

He cleared his throat before addressing you. "(Y/N) about last night - uhh - I meant what - what I said." You gawked at him, The Tommy Shelby stuttering in front of you. You were definitely special to him.

"I - you mean - what exactly did you mean by 'permanently' last night?" Your cheeks reddened, little hair on your neck stood as you awaited his answer.

"I didn't plan for this to happen so spontaneously but we gotta do what we gotta do right?" He paused and you held your breath for his next words. "I'm not good with words so beware. Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) I am grateful for your help in more than one of my life problems. My son loves you and calls out for you all the time, I adore you and your strength. Will you do the honour of making me the luckiest man in Birmingham by marrying me?" Tommy pulled out a small jewellery box from his coat pocket and held before you a simple but elegant and beautiful princess-cut diamond ring.

You sobbed. "Is that even a question?" You nodded, unable to speak as he placed the ring on your finger. You jumped up, unable to control your excitement and hugged him with all your might. And for the first time in many years, Tommy Shelby was finally feeling peace. He felt a wave of hope… for himself and your future together.

• • •

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #fanfic #𝐣 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

[zablife]

Michael's Wedding Gift

Requested by @peakyswritings for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

A/N: For added effect play "A Heart Made of Yarn" by Franz Gordon while reading.

The new Mrs. Shelby nuzzled her cheek against the course hairs of Tommy's chest, eyelids shut tight to keep in the tears that threatened to overspill. Her breath caught in her throat as she whispered, "I don't understand why he isn't allowed to come to the party?"

Tommy moved to sit up in bed and his wife scrambled to find a place at his side. What had she done that was so wrong, inviting his cousin inside for tea when he arrived unannounced? He was the only relative to congratulate them in the month they'd been married.

As Tommy caught sight of the tear rolling down his wife's cheek, he softened. "If I'd known you wanted him here, he would have been invited, but Michael is going back to Boston in the morning. It couldn't be helped," he answered, brushing the tear away with the pad of his thumb. A deep chuckle rose from inside his chest as he asked, "What's so special about Michael anyhow? We're expecting at least fifty other guests who will be more than happy to coo at your gorgeous gown from Paris."

Mrs. Shelby sniffled as she replied, "It's not that. He was kind to me," she recalled, thinking of Michael's warm, brown eyes and unassuming nature which made her feel at ease around him. She learned that he was relatively new to the family business which gave them something to bond over. He wasn't brash, but shy and quiet like her and the kinship they forged was something she held dear despite the short time spent together.

"There will be other parties, love," Tommy assured her with a kiss to the top of her head. She held to that promise, dreading the evening before them because she understood the Shelbys could be an unforgiving lot.

--------------------------

As Mrs. Shelby greeted the arriving guests, she shifted nervously in her high heels and nuzzled closer to her husband's side. Despite the warm summer evening, there was a distinct chill radiating from the glacial stares of Tommy's friends and family. Apparently, not one found her worthy of the great Thomas Shelby, MP OBE. Sensing his wife's nervousness, Tommy gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she willed herself not to give up so soon.

As she turned to accept a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, she locked eyes with Tommy's man Isaiah. He swaggered toward her purposefully as he deposited a key into her hand.

"What's this?" she asked with a tilt of her head.

"A wedding gift, compliments of Mr. Michael Gray," he said with a bow.

"A car?" she asked incredulously.

"You must have made quite an impression," Isaiah remarked.

"I wouldn't say that, but he was understanding of my situation," Mrs. Shelby replied, staring at the key which sat heavy in her palm.

"Whatever you say, ma'am," Isaiah agreed, turning his back to her.

"Isaiah, wait. I was wondering something," she asked with genuine concern. A thought had been plaguing her mind since tea. She hadn't wanted to make Tommy's cousin self conscious asking about his obvious limp, but she couldn't reconcile it seeing that Michael was far too young to be a war veteran. "I was hoping you might know what happened to Michael's leg?"

Isaiah's eyebrow twitched with a hint of mischief and he bowed his head to whisper, "Reckon Tommy don't want you to know, but his cousin's a nutter. Blew up the wishing well in his village with dynamite when he was a boy and got caught in the explosion."

Mrs. Shelby's hand flew to her mouth in panic. Surely the man she'd been speaking with a day earlier wasn't capable of such things. "My God," was all she could utter.

Isaiah gave a nod as guests filed past them, unaware of Mrs. Shelby's distress as he continued the grizzly tale. "That's not all. He got a taste for it after that. Set fire to the little farmhouse where he lived and the family who took him in burnt in their beds," he said, lips curling into a wicked sneer, delighted by the reaction he received.

Then he added one last threat for good measure. “Stay on his good side, Mrs. Shelby. Perhaps convince your husband to bring him back from his exile in America? Michael wasn’t pleased about that,” he said ominously.

Mrs. Shelby felt her heart racing and palms sweating as she looked around wildly for Tommy. As she spied him coming closer, she grabbed for him with trembling hands, a way to anchor herself in a sea of confusion and terror.

"There's my lovely wife," he beamed. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked seeing her ashen face.

"Can we go?" she begged, desperate to be rid of the unpleasant company. "There's something I'd like to show you," she said, holding up the key.

"Of course," Tommy replied, placing an arm securely around her waist.

"Michael's given us a wedding gift," Mrs. Shelby announced, gesturing toward a beautiful new Bentley parked in the drive. "What do you make of that?"

"It's a very nice automobile," Tommy conceded through clenched teeth, shoving his hands into his pockets hastily. "Shall we join our guests now?" he urged, turning to leave.

"Tommy, is Michael...dangerous?" his wife called to him, his foot frozen on the top stair. Before she had time to dissuade herself, she ran to him and confided everything Isaiah told her.

"People like to make up stories because Michael was away for many years, but it's nothing more than idle gossip,” he explained with a wave of his hand.

"Tommy, I must insist you take this seriously. Tell me you haven’t sent Michael to Boston to punish him. That he has no reason to quarrel with you,” his wife urged, voice bordering on hysteria.

Tommy's hands clasped her face between his large palms, icy blue irises fixating on hers in a hypnotizing stare as he promised, “Of course not, it’s only business," he swore. "Do you believe me?"

She nodded slowly, placing a hand over his. Her Tommy wouldn't lie or make false promises. She had complete faith and trust in her husband in that moment. She took his arm as he offered it out to her and walked confidently into dinner, knowing he would protect her from harm.

It would be the last time she was seen alive. The next morning as she placed the key in the ignition of her shiny new automobile, the engine suddenly exploded, tearing and twisting the metal into an unrecognizable ball of flame. As the smoke billowed up to the heavens, Tommy raced to the wreckage, finding a note on his doorstep left by his embittered cousin.

"Congratulations, Tommy. I understand why you eloped with this beautiful creature and left us all to fend for ourselves. Tell me, has she ever looked more lovely than she does now?"

-------------

Tag List:

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@flysafepapi

@the-makingsofgreatness

@noforkingclue

#Michael Gray fanfic #Michael Gray imagine #Michael Gray #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #zablife 2k celebration

[queenshelby]

The Good Girl (Part Four)

(P.S. I am back!!!!)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Innocent Reader

Words: 3,878

Warning: Smut, Cheating, Innocence Kink!

***

“I want you to do it!” was what you said to your employer, Thomas Shelby, right after he left you hanging and begging for his attention for five days straight. As usual, he was occupied with work and his wife Elizabeth had recently become suspicious about you.

She had a feeling that something was going on between you and her husband especially since, at Church last Sunday, you both had disappeared in the middle of service and didn’t return until twenty minutes later.

You sinned! Again! But then you did repent and confessed to participating in adultery. You felt guilty about it but this sense of guilt was nothing in comparison to the lust and desire you felt for him. Thomas Shelby, OBE, the man who you wanted to take your virginity.

And, of course, he did not say no. In fact, he was rather eager to satisfy your wishes and, with that, on a Friday evening that week, he took you to the Midland Hotel for some privacy.

***

“Are you sure that this is what you want Love?” he asked as soon as you both stumbled through the door of the hotel room, which was a suite bigger than you had ever seen before.

“I am sure Mr Shelby” you confirmed nervously before explaining yourself to him. “I have been fantasising about it ever since you did those things to me at church and whilst I know that God will judge me for it, I am prepared for the consequences. I will repent, of course. But I will also accept my faith thereafter” you told him and, the truth was, that you felt incredibly attracted to your much older employer. He was handsome and intriguing. His demure alone aroused you and, whilst you knew that your actions may be foolish since Thomas Shelby was a married man, you desired his presence. You wanted him to be your first and you even thought that, perhaps, you were in love with him.

“Alright then” Tommy said calmly before taking off his suit jacket and gun holster. “I will take it slow, eh” he then continued while he approached you again.

“Yes Mr Shelby. Slow is good” you stammered as Tommy took a finger and traced the back of your hand but you pushed him away, at least momentarily.

“I wore this for you” you then told him after he gave you a startled look and, just as you spoke, he began to smile vaguely and you started to undress for him slowly.  

You came prepared and, beneath your modest dress, you wore nothing but a pearl-coloured satin singlet with matching underwear.

It was simple, but suited you well and when Tommy got a good look at you, his excitement grew. Literally.

“Sit down Love” Tommy said as he, too, started to undress himself and you got a good glimpse of his immaculately shaped chest.

“Yes Mr Shelby” you said again as you sat down and watched him until, eventually, he joined you and laid a hand on your thigh and you suddenly felt a new kind of warm glow that sat in the bottom of your stomach.

“May I start then?” Tommy then asked with a smirk across his lips and, as soon as you gave him a reassuring nod, he leaned closer and began to kiss you gently at a first. It was a soft and tentative kiss. Not long enough. Leaving you wanting more.

You gasped after your lips drifted apart, indicating for him to continue and so he did it again, and again, and again. It was intoxicating. You had never had anything but small, chaste kisses from the boys in your township but this was entirely different. It was like his lips were a sweetened wine, the last tart on a plate, calling for you to take it, a need deep inside you.

Not after too long, you wrapped your trembling arms around his neck to steady yourself and kissed back. You felt Tommy’s smile more than saw it, and you reaped the reward. He pulled you towards him, placing you in his lap, his arms going to your back and rubbing up and down.

Your mouth played with his, and he taught you exactly what he wanted with the littlest of pressures on the lips, saying without talking how he wanted your mouth to move against his. And when he added his tongue, you gasped. It was delicious; his tongue in your mouth and his hands reaching around to the front of your singlet, sliding up your chest to cup you and eliciting a moan.

“This feels nice” you then acknowledged and Tommy’s hands squeezed around your breasts some more before pulling at your nipples.

“You know nothing yet Sweetheart” Tommy whispered in response and you gulped and leaned back in for more of his kisses, letting his hands cup your breasts some more and wander over the rest of your body.

Tommy wanted you badly. He wanted to rip the satin off you and ravage you, to take you then and there, but he knew you were not ready so he reminded himself to be patient.

He pulled away and began kissing up and down your jaw, then your neck, then down the scoop neck and over the curve of the breast that was nearly showing. He felt your chest heave, your breath coming more rapidly. Soon, he thought.

“It feels so good” you murmured against Tommy’s skin while your thoughts were tunnelling down to just his lips over the sensitive skin of your breast.

You had never felt anything so intense and wanted to return the favour. Thus, you leaned forward to kiss Tommy’s jaw. You also placed a few spattered kisses across his neck and, then, somewhat instinctively, licked his skin at the end. He gasped as you shifted forward, almost on top of him, and you became aware of the bulge in his pants.

Tommy noticed and smirked again.

“I can’t wait to fuck you properly Love” he said with a groan as you began to move back and forth across the bulge, shifting your weight so that your ass rubbed against it.

“I can tell” you mused while Tommy’s sounds only just spurred you on.

"Lean back" he eventually ordered with a voice much darker than before and, after you complied with his request, he moved to the edge of the bed and touched your thighs, then your stomach and then he began pushing the fabric of your satin singlet up and up and up until he reached your breasts. Then, slowly, he took the hem and pulled it off your body.

You sighed deeply, a cold shiver running through your body as you were suddenly completely naked in front of one of England’s most feared gangsters.

“You are fucking perfect, eh” Tommy then said, making you feel a bit more comfortable before leaning forward to kiss and lick your neck, and then moving his lips over your soft skin and all the way to your perfect breasts.

Tommy soon buried his face in your cleavage, sucking and licking up both breasts, circling them with his hands, his tongue, and then sticking the nipples into his mouth. He sucked and pulled, barely grazing with his teeth and then moving to the next one. Above him, you squirmed and pushed your chest against his mouth. Now this was the most intense sensation you had ever had experienced on your breasts and your hands reached down to tangle into his hair, pulling his mouth closer to your nipples. Tommy’s hands caressed up and down your thighs, ending in the tiny patch of hair above your mound and gently pulling.

When he tired of your breasts for the moment, Tommy pushed you back and climbed on top of you, kissing from your stomach all the way to your thighs while purposely ignoring your mound.

“Please” you moaned as Tommy licked up and down your inner thighs. He could see how wet you were and, yet, he continued to tease you.

“Please what?” Tommy asked as wetness and redness coated your inner thighs and he needed to taste you desperately.

“Please kiss me” you told him and he smiled.

“Kiss you where?” he teased. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” he then asked with his face was so close to your sex.

“Please, down there…” you stammered but Tommy would not relent.

“Use your words Love. Tell me exactly where you want me to kiss you” Tommy finally instructed and you gave in.

“I want you to make me cum with your mouth Mr Shelby. I want your mouth on my pussy. Please” you begged him almost desperately and Tommy smiled.

“Good Girl! Now spread your legs for me” he smirked and, before you knew it, his head disappeared in between your legs and he kissed your wet mound.

The kisses soon turned into licks and, when he finally ran his entire tongue through your slit, you could not help but moan loudly.

Your fingers found their way into Tommy’s hair as he licked you and lapped up your juices.

‘You taste so fucking amazing’ he groaned against your mound. You were soaked and, as soon as he began to flick your clit with his tongue, you couldn’t hold back any longer.

You came hard and fast without any sort of warning. Unsure what was happening to you, you screamed in pleasure and you reeled around grinding yourself against Tommy’s face.

“Fuck! Yes!” was all that escaped you and Tommy was amused how easy it was for you to curse now.

‘You came much quicker than I had anticipated’ he observed after you eventually came down from your high and he kissed his way back up to your lips, making you taste yourself.

“I suppose it is time for me to fuck that tight little pussy of yours then, eh?” he said after, a little while, your lips drifted apart and Tommy has gotten rid of his briefs.

“Will it hurt?” you asked just before Tommy’s mouth devoured yours once more while he lined himself up with your sex.

“It will, but only for a little bit” Tommy told you as the head of his manhood brushed across the tight opening to your mound and, after teasing you with small humps that almost sent his head through your opening, Tommy growled, blue eyes clouded with pure lust.

“I will take it easy on you Love. At least until you are used to having my cock inside of you” he then reassured you and you nodded again and held on to his neck and shoulders while you felt his hard member start to play with your slit.

“Try to relax” was the last thing you heard as Tommy rubbed his length up and down before finally sinking into you slowly, causing you to tense.

There was pain but there also was pleasure and Tommy groaned loudly when he felt how tight you were around him. You stretched around him like he was made for you and you felt yourself giving over control of your body to him as he took you.

“You are doing well. I am almost there” Tommy groaned as, slowly, but surely, he tore through your barrier and soon bottomed out against your cervix.

You shrieked momentarily from the pain and from feeling so full as you accommodated him inside your body and Tommy was gentle at first but then, when you moaned and pleaded for more, his demur changed.

“You are so fucking tight Love” Tommy groaned as the speed of his thrusts increased and whilst you were sore, you also felt incredibly aroused.

“How do you feel, eh…?” he moaned. “…being filled with my cock?” he continued with laboured breath.

“I feel good Mr Shelby. It feels so good. Please don’t stop” you moaned, knowing that he had no intention to stop any time soon.

“Don’t worry Love, I won’t stop fucking you until you cum around my cock” Tommy confirmed before, after another ten minutes of somewhat gentle but passionate love making, he made you get onto all fours before pushing into you again from behind.

‘That’s a good girl. You are taking me so well” he told you as you gave into his demands while he was keeping up his relentless pace after you had adjusted to his size. He gripped your hips and pulled you to him, manipulating you for his pleasure as well as yours.

“Oh god” you screamed after a while as something unexpected and strange happened. Something you didn’t expect. You were coming before you were ready, going off like a rocket. Tommy’s member was thick enough to rub against the most sensitive spots with every deep thrust, and you couldn’t stop the resulting explosion.

‘Oh god, yes’ you screamed again loudly as your walls clamped around him, tightening almost painfully, and he held you while you came.

Your head came back towards him, and he moved one hand, gliding up your back slowly to brush your hair back from your beautiful face so he could see you.

You whimpered and collapsed forward as he pulled out slowly. Even Tommy groaned as if his member complained bitterly at the idea of leaving its tight cocoon.

You rolled to your back panting and looking up at him legs automatically falling open for him as he crawled onto the bed, spreading them further. His hands caressed up your body, over your breasts and neck until they cupped your face.

‘You should see yourself Love’ Tommy said with some exhaustion as you opened your thighs wider for him. “Your pussy looks so red and sore already and, yet, you want more eh?’ he asked as you lifted your hips in invitation. Yes! You wanted more, much more.

In the haste of the moment, you pulled his face towards you and pressed your lips onto his.

‘I am sorry …’ you said, knowing that you shouldn’t have kissed him without permission, and, just before you could finish your sentence, Tommy pressed his lips back down onto yours.

‘Do not apologise. I am enjoying this’ Tommy said with a smirk as your lips drifted apart.

‘So do I’ you said with a hasty voice as his body moved between your legs.

The movement brought your legs up high, and Tommy moved his hands up to your ankles, spreading you wide.

Then, he looked down at your swollen mound, watching himself sliding into you. He was going to fuck you hard. You knew it like you knew your own name. It was what you were told to expect and now you wanted it.

You reached behind you and grasped the bars of your headboard, lifting your hips in invitation of the inevitable.

Tommy rested your legs against his shoulders and took your wrists in one hand, forcing you to keep your hold on the headboard. The other went to your throat, not hurting you, but holding you so that you were forced to look at him, to watch his face while he fucked you.

“I want you to look at me when I fill you up with my cum Love” Tommy told you as you eyed him silently, your eyes wide as he pushed into you deep, his cock bottoming out and bringing a cry from your lips. He pulled out and pushed in deep again, needing to hear that little cry over and over.

His length pounded in and out, his hips pushing against you, your legs wrapped around his shoulders. This lasted for at least ten or fifteen minutes and every thrust claimed you as his for that night. His tightened his grip around your neck slightly when you tried to turn your head, to look away. You were close, again, and you couldn’t look at him as you thought that you shouldn’t feel pleasure from what he was doing. But there you were, close to your second orgasm and Tommy could sense it,

‘No. Look at me. I want to see you relent and give up control to me’ Tommy moaned as you whimpered.

And, just as Tommy thrusted in and out of you, your walls began to tighten around him and you gave into your pleasure.

‘My Shelby!’ you moaned and your hips bucked up as you came for the third time that night. Your body tightened around him, and his member squeezed to painful proportions.

And yet, Tommy didn’t cum. Not yet. He pulled out slowly, torturing himself until he popped out of you with an audible sound. You lay on the bed, limp and used, exhausted. But you build up all of your strength and sat up before pushing Tommy beneath you.

‘Do you want more Mr Shelby?’ you asked, biting your lips in anticipation of his answer.

‘Yes’ was all Tommy managed to say, mesmerised by your determination and sudden sense of authority. He enjoyed you taking control over him in that moment.

In the same vein, you were surprised by his stamina as you took his rock hard length into your hand before you climbed on top of him and guiding him inside of you.

As you sat down on top of him you could almost feel him push against your cervix.

‘You feel incredible’ Tommy said quietly in between moans as you rode him, releasing your body up and down on his length while starring into his deep blue eyes.

Tommy’s hand’s gently pinched both of your nipples as you increased your speed. He was mesmerised by your body and the sounds you were making, a mixture of deep moans and heavy breaths.

‘Keep looking at me Love’ Tommy demanded as he could feel you tightening around him once again.

He could see the embarrassment on your face and he enjoyed your strange shyness.

‘Hmm, oh god’ you moaned as your body moved up and down and then forwards and backwards.

Tommy’s hands began to take a firmer grip of your breasts and he pinched your nipples even harder than before while he began moving his body upward, against you, causing you to let out a loud cry and moan at the same time.

Your third orgasm washed over you not long after your last and Tommy’s breathing became much heavier this time around.

‘Keep going’ Tommy moaned as you rode out your orgasm, barely being able to hold on himself but he wanted to gain control over you again before he came and, thus, after you came down from your high, he pushed you beneath him once more.

Just as he was on top of you again, Tommy felt a tsunami of a wave coming towards him. He picked up his pace and began to let out the most guttural cry you had ever heard.

His member was twitching as he shot his warm cum inside you and he kept on pushing as his thrusts now were a painful pleasure that made you shake and buck wildly.

‘Please! I cannot take much more’ you whimpered this time around as your core felt like it was on fire. Your flesh was raw but Tommy kept thrusting in your overly sensitive mound and you knew that he wouldn't stop until every drop of cum had been milked out of him, and he held you down as he pumped into you a dozen more times.

Finally, he was empty and he kissed you passionately on the lips. You were so tired and used you could barely kiss back. Finally, you broke apart, and he slowly pulled out of your red swollen hole. Some streaks of your combined juices poured out of your slit and onto the sheets which, for some reason, felt incredibly satisfying.

‘Now that was worth the wait, eh’ Tommy then said as he looked down on you with even more lust. Seeing his achievement aroused him all over again and he took his fingers to spread the lips of your pussy apart to get a better look.

The fact that he had just taken your virginity was obvious and when he pushed two fingers into you, you couldn’t help but shriek.

When he pulled them out, they were covered in cum and some streaks of blood but he didn’t seem bothered at all and cleaned them off with cloth.

‘This was incredible Mr Shelby, but I doubt that I will be in a position to walk tomorrow’ you told him and Tommy smiled at you with an almost sadistic grin.

‘Well then, perhaps, we should spend the day in bed, eh?’ Tommy said before, finally, pulling you close once more, kissing you gently.

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#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #peaky blinders #peaky blinder #cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #tommy shelby x you #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinder imagine

[loulouwrites]

Secrets . Tommy Shelby

summary: tommy shelby is dead, and his life has just begun

warnings: angst, talk of death, grief, post season 6, abuse, discussions of domestic violence, unedited,tommy shelby having a normal job? lmk if i missed any!

word count: 5k

Death was no stranger to Thomas Shelby.

He had killed more men than he could count, he had lost more friends than he cared to remember, and he had died six months ago - at least, that's what everybody thought.

He wondered if he should have felt more guilty. He was sure his family had grieved him - he hoped they had, anyway - but he would not blame them if they hadn't.

He imagined, as they grieved them, relief also passed through them, he imagined them feeling guilty for thinking such a thing. He knew Ada would feel terrible, shake the thought out of her head, but it would be there.

Thomas Shelby was dead, and that meant his terrible legacy died with him.

He didn't feel anything when he thought about his family's reaction, because his was the same. He grieved the loss of himself, he grieved those he loved that were still living, knowing he would never see them again. He grieved the dead, his dead wife, his precious daughter that was taken before her life truly began, and he grieved that he was not going to see them for a long time. But, admist his grief, that wave of relief washed over him, he felt his stomach untwist, he felt the weight on his shoulders disappear, and for the first time in a long time, he felt free.

For the first time in his life, he was exactly where he needed to be.

Alone.

Nobody here knew his real name, nobody knew what he had done, and most importantly, nobody cared.

The first month he had has been dead, he had met a group of travellers, they had welcomed him into their camp with open arms and open bottles of cheap whiskey. He had been lucky they didn't recognise him, the community being so small, but by some miracle, they didn't.

He didn't stay long, the group was too insular, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they ran into a group who did know who he was, and who would tell anybody who would listen that the dead Thomas Shelby OBE, was not actually dead.

The second month, he had travelled north and had worked on the shipyards in the North East. They were used to all kinds of people travelling there for work and leaving after a few months to move on to bigger and better things - he had lasted two weeks.

Thomas Shelby was no fool. He had no need to work jobs on shipyards or factories. He had given his businesses away, he had buried his titles with him, but there was always Shelby money somewhere, hidden in different parts of Birmingham, money that was meant to stay hidden.

Enough to allow him live comfortably for the rest of his life.

The third and fourth months were spent collecting that money and trying to find something to do with it.

He was not a man that was made to relax. He didn't enjoy sitting, or reading, or any leisurely activities, he was born to work. He had always been like that, always working towards something, always reaching towards a goal, but he had done everything a man could do, and now, it was time to rest.

He liked living in the countryside. He had thought it might be too dangerous, too many nosy neighbours and friendly questions, but not too many people passed through, and those that did didn't care about where he came from, they tended to just ask him for directions to the nearest town.

He lived a lonely life, and he liked it that way.

He did have one friend. When solitude became too much, even for him, he would venture the two miles to the nearest house, where a charming elderly widow named Pearl lived.

Pearl was nearing seventy-five. She had lived for two centuries, she had seen a queen die, a king crowned, she had seen her sons shipped off to war and never return, and she had seen many liars in her time. And yet, she did not suspect the nice man who lived close by to be anything but an honourable, young man.

Pearl's husband had died almost twenty years ago, and she had seen the look of a bereft spouse on Tommy Shelby's face the moment she had seen him - but she never asked him about it. They didn't talk much over the dinners Pearl would prepare, they didn't really need to, they had both talked enough in their time.

It was a chilly night when Tommy approached Pearl's little cottage. He always came to dinner on the last Sunday of the month, how that habit had formed, he had no idea.

The old woman had greeted him with a smile at the door, waving him inside where it was warm and inviting, the smell of her cooking a warm welcome.

He had barely sat down on the wooden chair at the foot of the table when a crash came from the adjacent kitchen, and he had shot the woman fussing over him a questioning look, to which he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Pearl," a woman's voice called from the kitchen, the door swinging open "I broke two of your plates." The woman stopped in the doorway when she noticed Tommy sat at the table, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Pearl waved a dismissive hand at the woman, patting Tommy on the shoulder and waving her over to the table, encouraging her to take a seat.

"It's only a couple of plates," Pearl said, "I have too many, anyways." She pointed to the woman that had gingerly sat down to the right of Tommy, introducing her before disappearing into the kitchen to plate up their dinner, "she's a family friend and will be staying with me for a while."

"Pearl has spoke of you very fondly, Tom." The woman smiled, leaning forward in her chair.

Tommy hadn't bothered to change his forename.

"I'm glad to hear it," Tommy grabbed the glass of water that Pearl had placed on the table before he had arrived, "she hasn't mentioned you before, though."

Tommy was good at reading people, always had been, and he didn't miss the way the woman's red painted lips tightened, her smile slightly straining at his words.

"I should be offended." She let out a huff of laughter, "I always thought Pearl and I were close."

"Not as close as I am with Pearl." Tommy joked, noticing the woman's posture relax as she leaned back in her chair.

"Yes, well, Pearl makes friends very easily. I don't think she has ever met stranger."

Tommy smiled at the woman's words, his eyes flickering across her face. She was pretty, her makeup was perfectly applied to her face and her hair was immaculately styled, even the red varnish on her nails was perfect.

She shifted under his gaze, and Tommy realised he hadn't spoken in at least a minute, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed at what he was sure she thought was him leering.

The awkward atmosphere was thankfully broken by Pearl reentering the room, her hands full as she balanced three plates in her arms. Tommy was quick to jump out, taking the plates from the older woman and setting them on the table.

The dinner conversation was more lively than it usually was when Tommy visited, Pearl seemingly thrilled at having another presence at the table, so much so, the two younger people in the room could barely get a word in for the entire meal.

Pearl had excused herself after dinner, claiming it was too late for a woman her age, and insisting her two friends make themselves a cup of tea before Tom headed home.

The clattering of cups on saucers were all that could be heard in the living room, the awkward tension returning as they sat on the sofa.

She reached over to the side table, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, offering one to Tommy, which he declined with a shake of his head, though he did inhale extra hard when the smoke drifted his way.

"You and Pearl have become quite close." She said eventually, flicking the ashes of her cigarette into the crystal ashtray on the coffee table.

"Oh, we're the best of friends." Tommy nodded, his voice flat, but his eyes carrying a glimmer of humour that she clearly picked up on, her lips curling into a smile.

"I'm almost jealous."

"Of me?" Tommy raised his eyebrows, "or of Pearl?"

Her laugh was one of the best things he had heard in a long time.

"I suppose it must be nice having a friend, it's so rural here, it must get lonely."

"Loneliness isn't always a bad thing." Tommy muttered, and she didn't miss the bitterness in his tone.

"I suppose you're right," she sighed, taking a drag of her cigarette, "as long as you choose it."

Tommy hummed in response, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. "Why are you here?" He didn't mean for the question to sound so abrupt, he meant to ask it in a friendly manner, instead it came out like an interrogation, and her eyebrows raised in surprised.

"Pearl is an old family friend, she offered me somewhere to stay for a while."

"For a while?" Tommy asked, "won't your husband miss you?"

He flinched at his words. Subtle.

"I'm not married," she offered him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "what about you? Pearl told me you live alone."

"Widowed." Tommy shrugged, and she nodded in response, but she didn't say anything, she didn't offer him her condolences, or ask what happened, and he would be eternally grateful for that.

He saw himself out a few moments later, thanking her for the tea, and telling her to thank Pearl for the lovely meal.

"It was very nice to meet you...Tom..."

"Smith." Tommy answered from the front door.

He had never had a very good imagination.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He saw her again three days later. It was Wednesday when she arrived at his door, holding a basket of rock cakes in her hand, pushing past him into his house before he had time to protest.

The house was unbearably plain. He hadn't bothered to decorate the place, keeping the furniture that was there when he had purchased it. He watched as she took in the living room, her head moving around, taking in the bare walls and dated carpet.

He imagined it looked strange, there was not one personal touch in the entire house, no paintings, no photographs, just the daily newspaper thrown on the table in the corner.

"I love what you've done with the place." Her tone was so serious, Tommy almost thought she was being genuine, and his eyes widened until she turned her head to meet his gaze, a smirk on her perfectly painted list.

"I've been known to have an eye for interior design." He smirked back, and she snorted at his words.

"Pearl sent me." She held up the basket in her hand, "she made too many."

"You'd think she would no portion control by now." He said, taking the basket from her and setting it on the table, next to the unread newspaper.

"I think she made the specially for you." She smiled, "it's nice."

"It is." Tommy agreed and she began walking around the living room, a frown on her face.

"What do you do?" She asked eventually, her tone incredulous. He frowned at her words, his face questioning. "I mean...there are no books, no writing materials...what do you do all day?"

Tommy considered his response, but what could he say? 'I spend all my time pondering every mistake I have ever made?' 'All I do is wonder what my family are doing at this very moment?' 'I wish I was actually dead?'

He just shrugged.

"Do you not get bored?" She sounded truly concerned about him.

"Only boring people get bored." He told her, his mother had told him that when he was young.

"Now I see why you're so fond of Pearl. She's the only entertainment you have."

"She's more than enough." Tommy joked dryly, and she smirked at him, a knowing look on her face.

"Well...have a good day." She made her way to his front door, "God knows how."

The door had closed behind her before he could respond.

He didn't go and see Pearl that night, instead choosing to walk through the empty fields surrounding his property. He enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere at night here. The sky was clear, there was no city fog or grime that hid the stars in the sky, the air was crisp and fresh, not assaulting his lungs as he walked. It allowed him time to think, but he didn't think about the bad things outside, those were reserved for the confines of his house.

When he was out in the calm of nature, he allowed himself to think about the good things, few as they were.

When he returned to his house, he almost missed the object that had been placed on his front step, he would have if he hadn't tripped over it when he went to unlock his front door.

He picked up the object as if it were a bomb, rather than the leather-bound book it was, holding it between his thumb and forefinger with a frown on his face.

Jane Eyre.

He couldn't help but huff out a laugh.

◇─◇──◇─◇

"Did you like it?" She asked him two weeks later. Tommy didn't know they had ended up walking together every lunchtime on a Saturday, but he couldn't find a reason to complain.

"No." He huffed, "I didn't like Jane Eyre either, by the way."

She rolled her eyes at his words, not phased by his clear displeasure. She had started leaving books on his doorstep every week. The first had been Jane Eyre, which Tommy had read in only three days, not pleased by the story one bit. The second had been a Charles Dickens novel that he had already read years ago, and he didn't like it the first time either.

"I'm starting to think you don't like much." She grumbled, nudging his shoulder with hers as they walked down the country road.

"That's not true, at all." He said, placing a hand on her lower back, rubbing circles there. They both stopped walking, heads turned to face each other, he leaned his head in, their foreheads almost touching. He noted the nervous look in her eyes, how her body stiffened under his touch, "I like Pearl." He removed his hand from her back, continuing his stroll, smirking when he heard her modest heels clicking against the pavement as she tried to catch up with him.

"You have a terrible sense of humour." She huffed, a smile on her lips.

◇─◇──◇─◇

She became a regular fixture in Tommy's life. He saw her more often than he saw Pearl, for she would venture to his house whenever she felt like it, asking him his opinions on the books she had given him, sometimes she would turn up with flowers and plants to 'brighten the room'.

He didn't mind it as much as he thought he would. She wasn't an imposition in his life, she didn't ask him questions about his life, she didn't pry when his mind seemed to be elsewhere, she kept their conversations to the books they had read and their upcoming meals at Pearl's house.

If he were still a suspicious man, he would have found it strange.

Why was she so disinterested in his past?

Was it because she didn't want him to be interested in hers?

But, he wasn't that man anymore, and he learned to be grateful for their encounters, no matter how shallow they were.

She eyed him suspiciously from across his kitchen table, the china cup hiding the bottom half of her face. She had become quite good at reading him over the months, she could tell when he wanted to say something, and when he didn't.

"What's on your mind?" She placed the cup down, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Where are you from?" He asked her, his expression blank, not suspicious, but not completely uninterested, either.

"South."

"South." Tommy repeated, nodding his head.

"Where are you from?"

"North."

"North." She replicated his nod.

"Why did you move here?"

"I got sick of the city, Pearl offered me a place to stay at hers."

"You didn't work?"

"No." She sighed, bringing her cup of tea to her lips again.

"You've never been married and you didn't work. Family money?"

"Something like that." She shrugged and Tommy could see the irritation growing on her face.

"Must have been a lonely life."

"You'd know, wouldn't you?" She stood up from her seat them, brushing out the small creases in her green dress, her mouth opened as if she wanted to say something, but she shook her head, grabbing her handbag and leaving the kitchen.

Tommy felt guilty, but he didn't try to stop her.

◇─◇──◇─◇

He didn't see her for another few days. He knew she was avoiding him, it didn't surprise him when she didn't show up for their afternoon walk the next day, or when Pearl informed him she hadn't been feeling well so she wouldn't be joining them for dinner.

Pearl didn't miss the way his shoulder's deflated when she informed him.

Tommy didn't miss the ghost of a smirk on Pearl's face.

He saw her again exactly one week after she had stormed out of his kitchen. He had ventured into the nearest town to buy the essentials he had run out of over the past month, when he saw her, she was exiting the bakery.

She stood out like a sore thumb in the rural town. Her blue button up dress was cinched at the waist, the hat she wore was perfectly placed on top of the fashionable waves of her hair.

She didn't look like she belonged in the countryside, better suited for the nicer streets of London, or even, New York.

Tommy supposed he didn't particularly fit in either.

He approached her as she was about to enter the post office, offering to take the string shopping bag from her arms, which she declined with a polite smile.

He followed her into the post office, lagging behind due to the multiple women exiting, thanking him for holding the door.

He stood by the entrance, watching as passed along letters to the man at the desk, reaching to her purse to pay for the postage, plus a pack of cigarettes and some cherry drops.

He held the door open for her when she left, struggling to keep up with her quick steps.

"I thought you had no family." Tommy said, her pace slowing, making it easier for him to walk by her side.

"I didn't say that." She muttered, her gaze fixed ahead of her, "I said I had no husband. We all have family, Mr Smith."

"No all of us."

"Aren't you a widow?" She frowned, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze, "you had no children?"

The word got stuck in Tommy's mouth, "no." He flinched at how small his voice sounded.

"No brothers, sisters, parents?"

"No."

She didn't pry, she just nodded, letting a comfortable silence take over as they walked home.

She invited him in when they got to Pearl's cottage, informing him the elderly woman was in Brighton for the weekend, visiting her sister who had recently fallen ill.

He had gracefully accepted, helping her unpack the numerous shopping bags in the kitchen, and offering to help her cook dinner, but she shook him off, telling him she cooked better alone.

She wasn't as good of a chef as Pearl, Tommy noted as he struggled to cut his lamb, the meat slipping along the plate with the force.

She grimaced when the glasses shook on the table, a clear indication she had cooked the meat half an hour too long.

"I'm sorry." She sighed, "I've never been a good cook, or good hostess."

He waved a dismissive hand at her, finally gathering a cut of lamb on his fork, trying not to chew too aggressively under her watchful gaze.

"You don't have to eat it." She told him, setting her knife and fork down, "God knows I'm not going to."

"It's...good." Tommy said, trying to discreetly pick out the tough meat from his teeth with his tongue, she shot him an unimpressed look, and he huffed a laugh. "I've had worse."

"Hopefully Pearl will be home soon, I'm going to starve if she isn't."

"I could do with some starvation, I've had to get my trousers let out since I moved here."

"I lied." She said suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, and Tommy's eyes squinted in confusion.

"I'd say you were truthful...you really aren't a good cook."

"No." She groaned, sipping the red wine she had poured for herself, "I lied to you...about my life."

"I'm not trying to be funny, love, but you haven't told me anything about your life."

Her expression relaxed somewhat as she looked at him, but he could still see the worry in her eyes.

"I did. I said I've never been married."

She rose up from the table, pacing the small dining area with a sheepish expression on her face. Tommy breathed out heavily, gently placing his knife and fork on his plate as he watched her.

"You have been married?" He asked, not enjoying the way his stomach faintly twisted. He barely knew this woman, he had no right to feel betrayed because she had lied to him.

"I have been." She muttered, and his eyes narrowed further, but he didn't respond. "I mean...I am? Still...I think?"

"You think?" Tommy finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of confusion and concern. He stood up from the table, mirroring her pacing movements as he tried to make sense of it all. "What do you mean you think you're still married? You either are or you aren't."

"I am." She spoke with conviction, halting her pacing to face him from the opposite side of the table. "I am still married."

"Why did you lie?" Tommy's words came out harsh, though he truly didn't mean them to. He had no right to judge her, he was just as bad, but he couldn't help but feel offended by her deception.

She looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of her wine glass. "I didn't mean to lie, it was just easier than the truth."

Tommy knew exactly what she meant.

"My husband wasn't kind," she continued, "he didn't physically harm me, but it would only have been a matter of time. He would find me if I stayed with my family, so I came here."

She didn't owe him an explanation, and Tommy was rather floored she had given him one.

He knew what the old him would do.

He could feel the primal, violent desires he thought had died rise up inside of him.

But, he wasn't that man anymore.

"Why are you telling me this?" He asked her finally, moving to stand directly in front of her.

She shrugged at his words, "I don't know. I just don't like secrets."

Tommy felt a pang in his stomach.

"Everybody has secrets, love."

"Even you?"

"Even me."

◇─◇──◇─◇

Something changed following their conversation over dinner. Whilst Tommy assumed she would pull away from him, they seemed to get closer over the weeks.

Tommy wasn't sure whether he wanted to spend so much time with her, but he didn't put up much of a fight. He should have felt guilty about it, she had told him her secret, and he was still clinging on to his.

There were many times he thought about telling her, like on the walk they took where it started to rain and they had to run back to his, or when she brought him extra scones Pearl had made, or when she was lying with her head against his bare chest on a Sunday morning, but he never did.

They were just passing time.

That's what she had said before she left his house one morning. They were both lonely, neither of them had anything better to do, they were doing each other a favour.

"How did you get your money?" She asked him as she buttoned up her blue dress.

He choked on his cigarette smoke.

"What do you mean?" He asked, once his wheezing had subsided, standing from the bed to get dressed.

"You bought a cute little home in the countryside, but you don't work...I'm curious."

There was nothing hidden behind her smile. She wasn't asking for any reason other than wanting to know more about him.

The guilt returned to his gut.

"Gambling." He shrugged, buttoning up his shirt, his cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Gambling?"

"Horses...got lucky."

It wasn't exactly a lie.

◇─◇──◇─◇

Tommy enjoyed his mornings with her. He enjoyed the simplicity of waking up slowly, lighting a cigarette as he looked down at her sleeping form. He always woke up before her - he didn't sleep well, she was a master at it - and he liked it that way.

"I feel like we're abandoning Pearl." He told her, watching as she rubbed sleep from her eyes at the kitchen table, accepting the cup of tea he placed down in front of her, raising an eyebrow when she declined the toast and marmalade, reaching for a biscuit off the plate in the middle of the table instead.

"Tea and biscuits is the best breakfast you can have." She had told him.

"You're abandoning Pearl." She said, "I live with her."

"You haven't been home in days."

"That's your fault." She told him, "you're the one that trapped me here."

"I trapped you here, did I?"

"You make such good cups of tea, it makes it hard to go home."

Tommy hummed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Pearl does use too much milk."

"Exactly. You've spoiled me." She smirked, standing from her seat. "But you're right...I should go home." She brushed his shoulder when she passed him, "I'll see you around, Mr Smith."

He made sure to kiss her before she left.

◇─◇──◇─◇

The three days without her allowed Tommy time to think.

He enjoyed his time with her, but he could never seem to think clearly when he was in her presence. Her charm and wit would cloud any thought he had until he was utterly consumed by her.

It wasn't much different when she was gone, either.

His thoughts were still entirely made up of her - he wondered if it was because her floral perfume still lingered on his pillow - but he was able to properly assess the past few months.

He remembered how hollow he had been. How there was nothing to think about but the ghosts of his past, how he would tremble when he remembered the things he had seen, and the things he had done.

He remembered how she had changed that.

Now the haunting memories only came back in hushed whispers, whispers he could easily ignore when her laugh was so much louder, her presence much more dominating.

He wondered if he could love somebody he barely knew. Somebody who didn't know him at all.

Of course she knew small things.

She knew he preferred jam on his toast, she knew he didn't like sugar in his tea - a fact she had been horrified to learn - and she knew he was haunted.

She never asked him about it, but she knew. She couldn't ignore the way the nightmares made him shake, she couldn't ignore his body feeling like a furnace under her perfectly manicured fingers.

She didn't ask him, but he offered her an answer anyways.

He paced the floor of his bedroom, his breathing finally returning to normal, his eyes meeting hers from where she was sat up on the bed, her eyes concerned.

"France." He had muttered, returning to his spot in bed beside her.

She said nothing, instead, laying her head back on the pillow, her hand resting on his chest, above his rapidly beating heart.

It wasn't exactly a lie.

He pondered the timeline of their relationship as he walked to Pearl's house on a chilly Sunday evening.

They didn't know each other, not really, that was the beauty of it. She didn't know who Tommy really was, but she knew enough to feel safe with him. He didn't know much about her past, but he knew enough to know she could be trusted.

He didn't know much about her.

Yet, Tommy loved her anyway.

It was a strange feeling. He felt lighter, he felt happier, but there was still the guilt.

She had not offered him more information than was needed.

He had outright lied to her.

And so, as he approached the neighbouring house, Tommy decided he would tell her. He would tell her his real name, he would tell her what he had done, and he would tell her loved her.

There was no anxiety when he got to the front door, knocking lightly, even though Pearl had told him there was no need to. There was no need to feel anxious, because he was sure she felt the same - and he was certain, no matter what, she would not betray him.

Pearl greeted him with a smile, ushering him in as she always did. His eyes darted around the living room as he shrugged off his coat, the room looked the same as it always did, but something felt different.

He offered to help Pearl, knowing she would decline as always, pushing him towards the dining area.

He frowned when he got to the table, his eyes lingering on it for a moment too long.

It was set for two.

He glanced at the older woman in a silent questioning, and she sighed heavily under his gaze.

"She went home, son." She said, reaching over to rub his arm, a maternal comfort.

He knew she could see the confusion on his face, whether she could see the devastation and betrayal, he did not know.

"When?" He managed to ask, his throat dry.

"Two days ago." Pearl said, gently pushing Tommy into his seat at the head of the table. "Husband came up to get her, took her back."

He wished the woman had punched him in the stomach.

"And you let her go?" His voice held no venom, he was simply deflated in the chair.

"You can't force a woman to stay somewhere she doesn't want to, my love. No matter how much you want to."

She didn't wait for him to respond, leaving the room to plate up their dinner. Tommy's eyes stayed fixed on the place she would be sitting if she were here, his eyes not wavering from the empty chair.

It would have been easy to be sad.

It would have even easier to be angry.

But, he felt nothing.

She was just another ghost that would haunt him in his nightmares, and if that were the only way he would see her again, he looked forward to them.

He could not feel betrayed by her.

He was the liar, after all.

#tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

[moral-terpitude]

Quiet Sunday

Okay Flor @raincoffeeandfandoms, I got carried away with my Moodboard here! But rainy Sundays are my absolute favorite combination! A day with nothing to do, unless you make plans, to otherwise just enjoy a rainy day! Congrats on your 2.2k milestone!

***

Sunday.

Out of all the days it was the most looked forward to in the Shelby family. Your portion of it anyway, for vastly different reasons you were sure from Arthur and Linda’s household.

It was the only day that everyone had figured out, after a good tongue lashing or two for stealing Tommy from your company on a Sunday, not to disturb your family.

As you made your way down the hall, a sweatshirt and leggings making you far more decent than the way Tommy left you in bed this morning to fall back asleep and enjoy some peace and quiet, you heard…nothing.

No sound of Frances vacuuming, no video game noises and boys hollering coming from Charlie’s room.

Nothing.

Just silence.

You quickly knocked twice on Tommy’s office door before peeking your head in, loose pieces of hair falling in your face as you waited for him to look up from the papers he was holding.

He looked more relaxed than usual, feet propped on his desk, skimming something for who knows what.

“C’mon then, love.” He nodded as he spoke, messy dark hair still unkept from when he got up, and thankfully for whoever else may have been in the house (had Finn ended up staying last night?), he was dressed in some lounge pants and a tee shirt.

You grinned, letting the door click closed behind you, and he let his feet fall from the desk to give you clearance to crawl into his lap.

“It’s quiet.”

The chuckle reverberated through his chest as he tucked you under his chin, discarding the papers on the desk.

“Rare anymore.” His agreement made a nostalgic feeling stir in your chest.

Rain pattered against the windows as you shifted, trying to get comfortable. “I miss getting up and finding you and your boy out in the stables on a Sunday morning, Tom.”

He huffed, “He’s your boy too, eh? Too worried about what his uncle and his friends are doing now.”

The fire crackled as the rain hammered against the roof, playing a sweet tune with the metal of the roof.

“He went with Finn?”

“I don’t think they can manage to get up to too much on a Sunday. Pol wanted them round to help with moving some furniture.”

Two soft taps on the door had you straightening up slightly, perched on Tommy’s leg as he informed Frances she could come in.

“Mrs. Shelby, would you like breakfast this morning?”

Tommy’s fingers felt like they were going to wear a hole in your leg as he kneaded at your thigh.

“No thank you, Frances. Maybe just some coffee. No rush, I’ll be down to get it.”

It was the first of the month, which meant going over the Itinerary (which, how could you small family of three be so busy?), planning the menu, you needed to sort the bills, the bookkeeper needed last months bank statements…

“What do you say we go to that book shop you like, eh?”

His eyes glimmered at the suggestion. You knew your hair would never survive this rain, and you already had how many rooms full of books—

“Is…” you could already see his inclination to roll his eyes as you tapped your chin with your pointer finger, the light of the fire glimmering in the nothing short of obnoxious ring that he had replaced twice with something “better” than the previous one, “Thomas Shelby OBE MP, asking me on a date?”

“Hmm,” his thumb brushed along your cheek, brow quirking as you were sure he was going to use the same line he always did in response, “don’t tell me wife.”

As if on queue, Tommy’s phone started to vibrate across the table, and you couldn’t contain the laugh anymore, “I wouldn’t dare.”

Your smile was contagious, and you left Tommy with whatever was so fucking urgent for Alfie Solomons to be calling him on a Sunday while you went to the kitchen to retrieve your coffee.

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #modern tommy shelby #modern!tommy shelby #tommy shelby fluff

[dandelionprints]

You’ll Catch A Cold

Pairing: Tommy x Y/N

Summary: Y/N catches a cold and it’s up to Tommy to look after her

Warnings: Fluff, explicit language

Word Count: 3060

A/N: I currently have a cold so I’ve used it as ‘inspiration’ for this one shot, I hope you enjoy!

I do not give permission for my work to be posted anywhere else but reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!

Tag list is here if you’d like to be added to it

Credit for GIF to creator

A warm glow from outside shone through his office window as the sun was beginning to set. He’d been stuck in his office all day making various phone calls and writing letters to people he’d rather brush off to his secretary, but he couldn’t do that, he was Thomas Shelby OBE. A politician had to keep up appearances and at least pretend they gave a shit about what other people in power had to say. Yes, he’d worked hard to get to where he was today but he couldn’t deny that he’d rather have spent his day with his wife, Y/N, out in the autumn sunshine catching the last of the years warm rays from the sun, for no doubt the mornings would soon be filled with frost and the skies clouded over with sheets of white by early afternoon.

He reached into his pocket to check the time on his pocket watch. Five thirty PM.

He took a cigarette from its holder on the desk, rolling it slightly on his lips before placing it between them and lighting it. He took a pull and allowed himself to slump a little further into his chair, exhaling as he did so. Sure, five thirty was a lot earlier for him to finish work for the day than usual but he decided that he’d allow himself that luxury. He missed Y/N.

He continued to pull on his cigarette, not really enjoying the taste any more but still craving the nicotine he was getting, as he stood from where he was sitting and began walking over to the door, grabbing his coat on the way.

“Mr. Shelby, sir”, came the voice of his head maid, Frances. She’d been on her way towards his office and looked almost surprised to see him already exiting his office so early in the day.

“Yes?”

“Do you know where Mrs. Shelby is? I haven’t seen her since early afternoon. I thought she might have popped out with Ada but I saw Ada leaving on her own not too long ago”

His heart started to pick up pace a bit although he was sure Y/N would be absolutely fine, she’d probably gone for a walk around the grounds of Arrow House as she quite often did, or to the stables where he often found her when she was feeling down. ‘The horses listen, I don’t need to try with them. I can just talk and talk without the fear of judgement’, she’d say.

“No, I haven't seen her, Frances. It’s okay, I’m just on my way outside to find her. She’s probably in the stables grooming her horse”

“Yes Mr. Shelby”, she nodded, “I’ll pop the kettle on and make some tea, I can imagine she’ll need to be warmed up after being out there, the temperatures dropped something rotten”, she turned on her heel and started walking towards the kitchen.

Tommy continued to make his way towards the door leading out onto the grounds forecourt and made sure to grab his peaky cap on the way. He couldn’t deny the truth in Frances’ words as he stepped out onto the gravelled floor, there really was a bite in the air. The sun looked deceiving as it shone through the slowly yellowing leaves on the trees, you’d think you could still go without a coat if you knew no better than to trust the inconsistent British weather. He threw his now burnt out cigarette onto the floor.

The stables weren’t too far from the house and as he made his approach, he could hear his wife softly singing to herself, or to the horses in fact, a sound that he always loved. A smile crept onto his face as she came into view.

“Thought I’d find you here”, he spoke.

She jumped slightly at the sudden sound, bringing up a hand towards her chest.

“God, you fucking frightened me!”

Tommy only let out a chuckle in response and made his way over to his wife, the smile from the sound of her singing still placed on his lips.

“I love hearing you sing to yourself, it’s one of my favourite sounds in the world you know”. He placed a hand on either side of her waist and pulled her in slightly to give her a kiss as her hands gently reached up to grab his coat by the lapels.

“What time is it? It’s still light, I didn’t think you’d be finished with work until much later this evening”

“Five thirty or thereabouts. I thought I’d give myself the evening off to spend with my beautiful wife who I’d usually be happy with not wearing many layers of clothing but who in this instance I’m worried is going to catch a cold from the lack of layers”

She was wearing a light blue summer dress with no tights and a cream coloured cardigan, not nearly enough to keep the late autumn chill off. She’d fallen victim to the deceit of the sun, believing it to be a lot warmer than it looked outside that morning when she’d rolled out of bed alone and stood in front of the window that had the curtains already pulled apart slightly. She knew Tommy must have gotten up and gone over to the same spot that she was now standing in to check that no unwanted visitors were outside, he did the same thing every morning.

She couldn’t deny that she’d begun to lose the feeling in her fingertips and the tip of her nose felt numb from the bitter bite of the breeze that came in through the slats of the stable door, she could just about feel her nose dripping slightly. She quickly gave her nose a swift wipe with the handkerchief that she kept up her cardigan sleeve.

“I figured that it wouldn’t be as cold as it is and I didn’t plan on being out here for too long, I only came outside to wave goodbye to Ada then I thought I’d check on the horses, before I knew it I’d been out here for at least an hour. Y’know, you get quite used to the cold when you’re distracted. The horses are good company”.

“That they might be, love, but I need to know that my wife is looking after herself and isn’t suffering from hypothermia, now c’mon, lets get inside. Frances has made you a fresh pot of tea”, he was already removing his coat and placing it around Y/N’s shoulders.

“Tea sounds delightful Mr. Shelby, will you be joining me?”

“It would be my pleasure, love”.

He playfully smacked her bum as his signal to start moving towards the stable door and back to the house. She giggled and did as she was instructed, wrapping Tommys coat tightly around her frame.

***

Once inside the house, Tommy had insisted that Y/N go upstairs to their bedroom and get into something warmer. She’d chosen to go for a pair of his boxer shorts and one of his knitted jumpers that he only wore when it was the two of them, usually during the winter months in the evening when they were relaxing in front of the fire before bed. Sure the items of clothing she’d chosen certainly weren't the warmest but the boxers felt comfortable and the jumper was big on her, perfect to snuggle up in. She lifted it up towards her nose and tried to breathe in his scent, only to find that her nose had now lost its ability to smell and instead was now completely blocked. Shit.

‘Tommy’s not going to shut up about this, guess I’ll have to try and pretend I’m not ill’, she thought to herself.

Putting on the boxers and the jumper, she went to the chest at the end of the bed and took out her favourite blanket, the one that Tommy had bought her for her birthday knowing that she loved nothing more than to be wrapped up in a blanket in front of the fire with a cup of tea when the nights were chilly. She smiled at the memory of opening it on her birthday, the joy and excitement that came with it, as she wrapped it around herself and sat in front of the already lit fire. Frances must have been in to light it just before they got back into the house.

“One cup of tea, Mrs. Shelby”

Tommy walked into the room holding a cup of tea on a saucer in each hand, a biscuit or two placed next to the cups.

“Oh why thank you, my love. You do spoil me”, she reached out and took one of the saucers, giving Tommy a peck on the cheek as she did so.

“That’s my job, to keep you happy”, he bent down further to place a soft kiss on her lips.

Frances had insisted on bringing them the tea herself but Tommy had told her he wanted to spend the evening with his wife alone and that although he was grateful for her help, he wanted to be the one to do the basic everyday things he quite often forgot he used to do before the money was rolling in and maids were there at the drop of a hat to tend to his every need. Even if that was something as simple as bringing a cup of tea to his wife.

He took a seat opposite Y/N in front of the fire and placed his own cup and saucer down onto the table that sat between them.

“How was it with Ada? What did you talk about?”

“Oh you know, the usual. About the kids, about politics, about how you work such long hours…”

“You know I have to, Y/N, there’s business that needs to be done”

“I know, Tom. I’ve heard it all before, business first, personal life second, I should really be used to it now”, she paused, “it’s just, I wish we could have at least one day a week where you put the business second and personal life first, just one”

“So that’s why you were out with the horses? To talk to them about your thoughts?”

She nodded in response and he felt his heart drop, he hated the fact that his wife was feeling the way she was and it was all because of him.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I shouldn’t be putting business first all the time, I know that. It’s just, I’ve worked so fucking hard to get to where I am I’m afraid that if I slow down, even for a second, that I’ll drop the ball and it’ll all be gone”

Y/N stood from her chair and closed the small gap between herself and Tommy, cupping his face with one hand and holding her blanket around her with the other. Tommy wrapped both arms around her.

“That, Mr. Shelby, won’t happen. You’re too headstrong and determined to let that happen. All I ask is for one day a week where you let yourself relax and at least spend a bit of time with me, I feel like I spend most of my days missing you”

Another pang to his chest.

“I miss you too, I really do. I’ll do everything I can to make sure I spend as much time with you as possible and I’ll start doing the one day a week thing too, someone’s got to make sure you bundle up before you go outside”, he chuckled as Y/N tried to hide her smile, giving him a playful nudge to the chest.

“Thank you, it’ll mean the world to me”, she bent back down so that her face was level with Tommy’s, giving him a kiss before standing up straight again.

His eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Is that my jumper?”

Y/N took the two steps back towards her chair and sat down, picking up her tea and taking a sip. She jokingly looked around the room, ignoring his gaze as his eyes bore into her chest, the cream coloured material showing through the gap between either side of the blanket that had come away from each other.

“Hmm, thought it was”, he chuckled and shook his head slightly, he couldn’t give a fuck if it was his or not, he just knew she looked good in it. Then again, he thought she looked good in anything she wore.

His eyes wandered upwards and began to study her face properly, he noticed that her eyes looked a bit glassy and that her nose was slightly red, he could see her fighting the urge to sniff.

“I knew it! I fucking told you! You’ve caught a cold”, he seemed almost smug that he’d been right about the amount of layers she’d been wearing earlier, “looks like you’ll be getting the Doctor Shelby treatment”

“I have not!”, she exclaimed, her eyes widening, so much for trying to hide that she was ill, “Anyway, what's the ‘Doctor Shelby’ treatment?”

“Well“, it appears that you are in fact ill, and will be requiring someone to look after you. Therefore, I see it as my duty to fulfil that post and tend to your every need. I shall bring you cups of tea, fetch you more blankets, bring you tissues, run baths and lay in bed with you for as long as you so wish. You may not lift a finger to do anything, your husband, or in this case, doctor, will do everything for you”.

“Well doctor, that all sounds amazing! And how long may I ask is this service valid for?”

“For tonight and tomorrow, my love. Shit, sorry, that was unprofessional. You have my services tonight and tomorrow, Mrs Shelby”

“You mean you’re taking the day off of work to look after me? What will you tell them? That your idiot wife didn’t wear enough layers outside and that you’re now stuck at home while she lays in bed sniffing and sneezing her pathetic little nose off with a cold?”

Almost as if to give an example, her nose began twitching and she let out a sneeze, managing to stop herself from making as loud of a noise as she could have. Tommy handed her his handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket.

“Yes I’ll tell them exactly that”

She rolled her eyes and smiled, bringing her now cooling cup of tea to her lips again.

“Do you really think that’s wise? Missing a day off work because I have a cold? You’ve got a reputation to uphold. I mean I know I’ve just said to you that I want to spend more time with you but it doesn’t need to be for you to look after me. Please, Tom, go to work. I’ll be fine! I’ve got Frances and the rest of the staff I…”

“No I won’t hear of it, I want to take the day off to look after you. Besides, when was the last time we actually got to spend time together, eh?”

She pondered for a moment, she knew that he was right. Tommy would get up so early in the morning that she either slept right through or was half asleep when he’d roll over to her and place a kiss on her face before pulling himself out from underneath the covers and to the bathroom. The only times she’d see him in the day if he was at home would be when she’d go to say good morning once she’d gone downstairs, sometimes at lunch when she’d convince him to stop his work for fifteen minutes and get some food down him and then again in the evening once work was over if he’d finished early enough to catch her before she went to bed. She’d lost count of the amount of times she’d stay up waiting for him to come to bed, only to find her eyes growing heavier by the minute, finally allowing them to close fully and drift off into a much needed sleep. She would often wake in the middle of the night to find a blanket draped over her along with Tommy’s arm pulling her in towards him.

She couldn’t deny that getting to spend a whole day with him at home sounded like an absolute dream, even if she was ill.

“Okay, but promise me you’ll come up with something better than ‘my wife is an idiot’ when you tell them you won’t be in please”.

She sniffed again as she felt her nose tickle, trying, but failing, to stop another sneeze from coming.

He laughed, “yes love, don’t worry about that. Besides, I’m Tommy fucking Shelby, I do what I want, when I want”, the cheeky smile that she loved so much appeared on his face and she felt her stomach flip.

She composed herself and managed to utter the words, “Oh, is that so?”

“You know it is, love”

“Well then Tommy fucking Shelby, what is it you want to do now?”, a smirk was playing on her lips, she loved watching his mind race, it was almost as though she could see it happening behind his bright, blue eyes.

“That’s doctor Shelby to you”

“Oh yes, sorry ‘doctor’ Shelby, how are you going to cure me?”

“Well, first things first, let’s get you into bed, you need your rest”

He stood from his chair and made his way over to Y/N, scooping her up in his arms, blanket and all. He softly kissed her forehead as he felt his arms wrap around her.

“It’s still early, you haven’t even had a sip of your tea or had your supper yet”, Y/N wrapped her arms around the back of Tommy’s neck, enjoying the warmth that she could feel radiating from his body.

“That's okay, I’m about to do something really unprofessional and have a snack”

With that he threw Y/N onto the bed, ready to devour her, every inch.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x reader #john shelby #peaky blinders #arthur shelby #michael gray #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peakyblinders #cillian murphy #polly gray #tommyshelby #arthurshelby #tommy x reader #tommy x y/n #tommy x you #tommyshelbyimagine

[fkmarrycill]

You don't want to know how many times I've watched this scene... 🔥🔥🔥

Led Zeppelin was my first Tumblr fandom (and still going, over at @brownskinsugarplum76 ), and there's a saying that Robert Plant "seduces like the devil". Well, so does Thomas M. Shelby MP, OBE, and this scene is a fine example. 🔥💦 I guess I have a type... 😌

Here's a little something I wrote to flesh out their midnight rendezvous a bit.

#tommy shelby #may carleton #peaky blinders #fan fiction #peaky blinders fanfic

[look-at-the-soul]

Hello! Please could I request a Tommy x daughter with the prompt

“Let me hold your hair back, at least

Dear anon ✨ thank you so so much for sending this prompt!! I loved writing this little story 🥰 I hope you like it too!

Daddy’s little girl

Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)

Opening the heavy door, your breath caught up in your throat as it creaked.

Cyril groaned but before you could announce it was you, he barked three times.

“Shhh keep your barks down! You’re going to wake everybody up.” You whispered.

Once he realized it was only you, he got close to lick your hand then started to sniff over your clothes.

Shit it was so dark, the moonlight barely entering the big room. There was a big table in the middle so you tried to walk around it, the decoration of the floor started to move under your feet so closing your eyes for a second and after a deep breath, started to walk cautiously, it was a short walk to the stairs the problem was all the things you’d have to sort out first in order to make it into one piece to your room on the second floor.

Everything was so quiet, Frances would be so helpful right now.

Your head was spinning.

Maybe you could crash on the sofa and wake up early before your father did.

That sounded like a good pla-

“Y/N Shelby… Where the fuck have you been?”

The light in the drawing room went on and your father’s deep voice made your blood ran down to your feet.

“Dad! Fuck… You scared me!” Your heartbeat went resoundingly fast.

“Language Y/N.” As you saw him get up, you attempted to take an straight posture, shoulders back, chest up, you hoped your eyelids were completely open. “Were you drinking?”

Despite knowing the answer to his own question, he wanted to hear it from you.

Why was the room spinning so fast? Or was it you moving?

“Juss a lil.”

Placing your thumb and index finger together you closed your eye to look to your father, the infamous gangster of gangsters, Thomas Michael Shelby, OBE, DSM, MM, MP.

“You know those titles mean close to nothing right?” Oh fuck, you said that out loud. “My most important job is being your father and keep you safe, Y/N. But it becomes the hardest task when my own daughter decides to sneak out by the window to go a tavern to drink her soul out and-”

“The roof.” You corrected him while trying to hold on something, maybe leaning on the wall will do, you decided.

“Excuse me?” He frowned and looked at you through his glasses.

“I was looking at the stars on the rooftop and decided to go for something to drink.” You tried to explain him.

“In the middle of the night? Alone? To God knows what place?” He threw his glasses on the couch, his sleeves were rolled up, his anger level must be around a three, maybe a four. Oh, oh… he’s going to start now with the Tommy Shelby Psalm about how he was born in a boat and had to quit school to go to the war to fight for his country…

Nothing happened. The older, the grumpier.

“Don’t tell me I’m old! Don’t you realize when you’re drunk you say everything that’s crossing your mind?” Anger level soon reached an eight. The highest you saw him reach was when at 7 years old, uncle Arthur was throwing snow on your head because you wanted to go outside while it was snowing for real. Maybe he reached a 10 with you when you were five and there wasn’t any more strawberry ice cream left and you had no choice but tell the ice cream man that maybe if your daddy pulled out his revolver he would find some.

“And then you cried when I scolded you for telling that to the man and I reached level -80. Because I felt bad for making you cry.” He completed your memory with a smile. “But that’s not the point now Y/N, you’re seventeen you can’t go in the middle of night for a drink.”

“You changed the keys to the cabinet under your desk with the liquor.”

“So it was you stealing my whiskey!” Again, he reached level four.

“Calm down dad, it was just a bottle of scotch.”

The problem is when you tell someone to calm down, they do exactly the opposite.

“Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down, Y/N!”

“Don’t yell at me like that, I’m not one your pets… I’m your daughter!” Mum wouldn’t allow this, you thought. If only she was still alive.

“Then behave like that.” His voice was lower but his tone was still firm.

Smirking and rolling your eyes at him you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. “Well, that’s exactly what I did and now you’re angry at me for drinking?”

You inherited your mother’s strong temper and your father’s mouth, aunt Polly said it was a bloody combination to be afraid of.

Between the fear of him scolding you and the sudden sadness over the need of your mum right there, your drunkenness seemed to drop down dramatically.

Turning your back at him to end this useless argument, you tried to march out of the room, unfortunately for you, your sharp movement combined with the spinning of your head and the alcohol in your system, made your stomach twist and you felt like throwing up.

Rushing upstairs to your room, you held the burning sensation in your mouth just enough for you to make it into the bathroom.

Did you really drink that much?

As you were quietly asking for your internal organs to remain in its place while throwing up, you felt a gentle pair of hands rubbing your back.

“Don’t look dad!” This was so embarrassing! Another round of sickness hit you.

“Let me hold your hair back, at least.” Your dad’s hands gently moved your hair to hold it away from your face.

He had been there before and he didn’t want his only daughter to feel bad, once you cleaned your mouth, Tommy moved around the room to get rid of the cushions on your bed and after pulling back the covers, he rushed to get some water while you changed your clothes.

“Here, drink this.” He handed you a glass and placed the small jar next to your bed.

“Thank you.” But before he could walk out, you stopped him. “Dad?… can you stay until I fall asleep like when I was little?”

If there was something that made Tommy weak, it was you.

“Sure princess.” Taking off his shoes, he climbed into bed, getting comfortable.

“I miss her.” Your voice trailed off at the memory.

Swallowing hard, he admitted: “I miss her too… every single thing you do, it’s like watching her doing it.”

“Really?” Your face lighting up thinking that you looked like her.

“You have her eyes, her smile, you fucking walk like her too…” there was a melancholic smile on his lips. “Sometimes when I hear you talking I think it’s her.”

It was so unlike him to talk about his feelings, he was always so guarded from everybody. “Go to sleep now, you will feel like shit tomorrow and I’m going to be here to enjoy it.” Kissing your forehead, he let his cheek rest close to your head.

But while that happened he knew that this was his own payback. Because even though you were the living image of the woman he had loved, you were also his clone.

Feeling your eyelids closing, you could still hear him whisper: “No matter how old you are… You will always be your daddy’s little girl.”

*****

Join my celebration here

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @onlydeadcells @lespendy @thomashelbyswhore @lespendy @datewithgianni @shelbydelrey @fastfan

#That’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby blurb #thomas shelby x you #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders imagine

[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window 3 ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: (Y/N) has to make the best of the situation until Tommy returns, and when he does, he brings with him a harsh truth and a strange request

Notes: I feel overwhelmed with all your support, comments, reactions and feedback to the previous parts and I hope this one doesn't disappoint. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other. 

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 3889

Part 3

[Previously]

Both Emma and Charlie were nothing short of delighted at the prospect of spending more time together. All the while (Y/N) couldn't help the bitter taste in her mouth. Only a few days ago, she didn’t have to constantly rake her thoughts due to Mr. Thomas Shelby OBE and his little son, who had his father’s eyes and none of his nature. 

And yet, here she was. 

Charlie had arrived half changed, but in the bag his father had dropped, she had found clothes, toiletries and toys. The clothes might have been folded once, but had been packed so carelessly, they had grown wrinkled. Her work at Mrs. Cook had made her familiar with all sorts of fabric. Those used to make his clothes were none but the best money could buy, worked with expert technique. But they weren't sturdy enough for the kind of winters they had in Small Heath. 

"We have to find you something warmer to wear!", She said to Charlie, after having searched through what he had to offer. As soon as she had gotten up, however, his hand grabbed her skirt as if he still feared she would slip away. 

Charlie was about Emma's size, but she couldn't just put him in her thick tights even if it would do more to keep him warm than his soft and smooth socks. Half of them even had his initials embroidered at the ankle. 

"Emma, darling, would you mind letting Charlie borrow some of your socks?", She asked. 

"Alright. But not the green ones."

No, those were her absolute favourite and while she liked the boy, she didn't like him quite enough for that. 

Since they were the only residents left in this house, she had the luxury of two bedrooms- one for Emma and one for her. She gave Emma her old room, and tried to make it as nice and as open as possible, with just a cupboard, wardrobe, and a small writing desk. 

The larger cupboards, the tub, the water basin and all the rest had made her own bedroom rather crowded, but at least Emma had room to move and play. 

"You can keep your toys in your room?", Charlie asked Emma as he noticed the painted cubes she used to build houses, castles and forts.  

"You don't?"

He shook his head. 

"Frances says I'll not sleep but spend all night playing."

As they compared the hands they had been dealt, (Y/N)  pulled out a pair of grey, thick woollen socks which her own mother had knitted ages ago. 

"There.", She said, once she had pulled them over Charlie's original socks. 

"They're itchy.", He complained, tugging at the fabric where it touched his knee above his other, merino wool sock. 

"But we can go ice skating in them!", Emma giggled. "Mummy please! Please!"

"Alright.", (Y/N) agreed. "But not too fast and not too wild. I don't want either one of you getting hurt."

Lord help me if Tommy Shelby's son breaks a bone in my house. 

Because no one else would. 

Downstairs once more, she rolled up the carpet and moved away anything that might topple from the cupboards. 

"How do we go ice skating inside?", Charlie wanted to know. 

"I'll show you!"

Emma pushed herself up against the wall and made herself as thin as possible. Then she began to run as fast as her little legs would take her before jumping. 

She landed on her feet, but the push from her run sent her slithering down the length of the corridor, both her arms outstretched for balance. 

Charlie's eyes widened. 

He showed infinitely more caution at his first attempt, dragging his feet instead of running until he got a hang of how the socks slipped on the old, worn wood. 

But she could see the glint in his eyes and the beginnings of a beaming smile. 

Soon enough they were pulling each other across the corridor, accompanied by cheerful shouts and breathless laughter. 

Now that the children were occupied, (Y/N) returned to the kitchen, both to clean up what remained of breakfast to sort through her thoughts and fears. Her fingers brushed over the scrapes on her palms, from where she had broken her fall. 

~

“Mummy, what’s wrong?”, Emma asked. 

Her eyes snapped up, and she met the gaze of two pairs of concerned eyes. 

Her daughter had abandoned her seat at the kitchen table and climbed into her lap, reaching out to cup her face. 

"Are you ill?"

She offered them a sorry attempt at a smile and pressed a kiss to the palm of her daughter's hand, right to the spot she'd always stroke to settle her ever since she had been a baby. 

“I'm just a bit tired.", She said. 

"Why?" 

"Because I had a very bad dream last night." 

Although it was not entirely truthful, it didn't feel like a lie, not truly. 

“Dad get’s bad dreams too.”, Charlie said, watching from the place he had been given next to Emma and across from her. 

“Does he now?”, she asked, as her own voice sounded more hollow than it had in a long time. It was strange to hear, especially about a man like that. Even (Y/N) found it surprising to know that he, after all he had done, was still human enough to succumb to something as childish as nightmares. 

Both children were looking at her and so she had to speak. 

“Everyone gets nightmares.”, she quickly said, lifting Emma from her lap. “Now, why don’t I clear the table and you can show Charlie your coloured pencils, hm?”

To her relief, and concern in equal measure, Thomas Shelby did not return in time for supper. 

Nor when it began to grow dark outside. 

“Are we going back to Charlie’s house now?”, Emma asked. 

“That’s not my house!”, he insisted at once, his cheeks turning red. 

(Y/N) didn’t miss how he curled his hands into fists. 

“I live with Dad and Frances.”

“No, we’re not!”, she quickly said, before they could begin to argue, smoothing down his hair. “You’ll sleep here tonight.”

At once, Charlie's shoulders relaxed as his hand which had been a fist mere seconds ago searched for hers to hold. 

But Emma’s bed was too small for the both of them and she doubted Charlie would feel comfortable sleeping in a room all by himself. So she decided to let them sleep in her bed together, which made Emma giggle in excitement at being allowed in “the big bed” on her own. 

When (Y/N) returned upstairs with a heated brick wrapped in cloth to keep them warm during the night, she heard them giggling at the realisation that they could lie across as well. 

“None of this once you’re meant to sleep!”, she remarked sternly, tucking them in the right way round. 

They chose another fairy tale for tonight, Snow-White and Rose-Red, before they said their good night prayer, their song and their kisses. 

Just like last night, Charlie didn’t seem too content, only this time he snuggled himself into his pillow while staring at her with those piercing Shelby eyes, but while his father’s held nothing but malice and cruelty, his were filled with something resembling a plea. 

It took (Y/N) a moment to understand what he didn’t dare to say out loud. 

“Would you like a kiss too?”, she finally asked. 

Cautiously he nodded, as if he was asking a high tribute and feared to make her cross. (Y/N) leaned over and kissed his forehead, and when she pulled back, he was beaming at her like she had given him the greatest gift. 

For a good half hour or so she sat in front of Emma’s room and listened. First there were still whispers and giggles interrupted by Charlie. 

“Shh. We have to be more quiet!”, he reminded Emma over and over again. 

It almost made her smile. 

But soon their voices subsided, replaced by nothing but slow and steady breaths and tranquillity - something she no longer saw herself trusting. Not after last night. 

She checked on them again and again, getting up from her sewing work at the kitchen table to see and all she found were sleeping children. 

Still, there was no sign of Charlie’s father. Not that night. And finally, at half past ten, (Y/N) too went to bed. 

Since she has given them her own bed, she slept in Emma's, or at least tried to, as her her dreams were haunted by pale blue eyes once more. 

~

She awoke before the children, washing herself and brushing out her hair. Just as she put on her dressing gown, she could see a silhouette in the window across the courtyard. And she knew he had seen her too. 

Just like her, he wasn’t dressed yet, staring out into the early morning with a bare chest and a cigarette between his lips. 

The tattoos on his pale chest looked like ancient carvings on marble stone. And his eyes shone as they met hers, unwilling to break away. 

To her surprise, (Y/N) realised that no chill ran down her spine, no icy grip closed around her heart. 

But only because he had a look in them which she had seen once before - two lifetimes ago, when they had been little more than children. 

It had been a look of anguish he hadn't been able to show, not truly, which had been followed by a confession so painful, that it had made her eyes burn with tears. 

Even now, nearly fifteen years later and in spite of everything that had transpired between them, the memory made her heart clench with a pain that was not her own. 

Quickly, she averted her eyes, because like then, she had become witness to something he hadn't wished anyone to see. 

After checking on the children, finding them both once more in a tangled mess of arms, legs, sheets and pillows, complete with Emma’s favourite stuffed animals of Duffie the teddy bear and Mrs. Tatters, a rabbit with impossibly long ears, she went downstairs and put the kettle on. 

When the shadow dimmed the faint morning light, she braced herself for anything. 

By now he had pulled on trousers and a white undershirt, but even despite the cold, he wore no coat. 

It almost seemed like he had truly become immune to human emotions, but his eyes told another story. 

Without further ado, (Y/N) let him in, if only for fear of what might happen if she refused. 

“The children are still asleep.”, she said, barely daring to glance in his direction. “I'll go and wake Charlie.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shake his head faintly. 

Two nights ago he had terrified her to the core. Yesterday morning, he had moved so fast she hadn’t even had time to think but now he looked like he could be toppled by a gust of wind. 

And he seemed to have aged a decade since last she saw him. 

Watching him stand in her kitchen, frozen to the spot with his eyes staring out into nothingness, (Y/N) didn’t know what to do with him. 

He didn’t want her to get his son, but did he want her to leave? Would it be appropriate for her to? This was still her house after all. 

Perhaps he expected something of her. He must have done, else he wouldn't have come.

"W-would you like some tea?”, she finally asked, her fingers smoothing down the fabric of her dressing gown in a desperate attempt to end the uncertain silence.

“Tea?”, he asked, as if the word itself was foreign to him. 

She nodded faintly. 

“I made some.”

(Y/N) placed a cup before him and watched him stare at the steam rising from it. He neither touched it, nor the sugar or the milk she provided. He just stared, but she knew he was seeing anything but the old wood of her kitchen table. 

She didn’t dare leave. Instead, she leaned against the counter and watched him. The Blinders were known for their emphasis on expensive clothing and fashion, and the golden pocket watches of the Shelby brothers were infamous. 

So she did not know what to make of the silent, half undressed man in her kitchen with unkempt hair and wide, unseeing eyes. 

“Mr Shelby?”, she finally dared to ask, with a little more persistence this time.

“Is there anything I can get you?”

It wasn’t the smartest thing she had ever said, but she had to say something, didn’t she? 

He lifted his head slowly, as if, like Atlas, he had to carry the world on his shoulders. 

A few moments passed where he seemed to stare into her, body and soul, until he finally chose to speak. His voice couldn’t have sounded more different if he had said the words from the underworld itself. 

“John’s dead.”

(Y/N) felt like all the air had been knocked from her lungs and to her surprise, her own hands trembled as they pulled a chair for herself. It had been years since had laid eyes on her brother's childhood friend. 

John, in her mind, was always the way he had been at thirteen- with red cheeks and long blonde hair, which was always slightly messy under a crooked cap. He was charming and naughty and cocky, often twirling some new trinket in his hand which he had acquired due to quick and steady fingers,  but above all she remembered him to be loud. 

Everything about him was loud, his voice, his steps, his anger, his laughter- all loud and brash and boyish. 

Of all the men who had gone to France, John Shelby returned the most like he had gone, even if he had to return to a dead wife and orphaned children. 

He was still loud and playful and had somehow retained that youthful face, while his brother Arthur seemed to have aged half a century. 

“John’s dead.”, he said once more, as if he had to convince himself of the fact

“Michael’s injured and John’s dead.”

“Mr. Gray?”, (Y/N) asked. 

Polly Gray’s son’s reappearance did not go unnoticed. Little of the things she did, didn’t find their ways into the bathhouse or church bench chatter.

She was the one that featured most prominently in gossip talk about the Shelby Family, the one people dared to talk most about.  

An avid church goer, who ran a betting shop all through the war all on her own. 

An apparent open Catholic, who still practised her occult magic, laying curses and holding seances, talking to the dead and the like. 

Her children, who were lost, and the son that had returned. 

A woman, who gave money generously to good causes and was on trial for the murder of a police man. 

Tommy Shelby gave a single nod, before dropping his head. She couldn’t see his face, but she heard the heaving sound of his breath. 

“I’m sorry.”, she said, because what else was there to say? 

John was his brother. 

Edith’s death had nearly shattered her, so quickly had it come and gone, without a chance to say goodbye. When her brother died, it had been a long process, so she had been prepared.

In a way, she had begun to mourn him long before he had even passed. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to lose the man he had become and above all the boy he had once been. 

“So am I.”, he whispered. 

Before she could say more, she heard footsteps on the stairs, followed by giggles.

“Morning Mummy!”, Emma sang, skipping down the hall before she froze, staring at the newcomer. 

“Who are you?”, she demanded to know, leaning forward to get a better view of him. 

"Dad!”, Charlie exclaimed, running past Emma and jumping into his arms. 

Tommy Shelby caught him and held him in his arms, for a moment daring to press his head against his son’s. Another sight, (Y/N) felt, she was not supposed to see. 

When he let go, Charlie was still sitting on his knee, beaming from ear to ear as he told him about the games and the stories, about the hot chocolate she had made them last night, which he liked, even if it tasted different than Frances’ and about how Emma and he jumped on the bed- 

“Oh!”, he gasped, staring at (Y/N) with wide eyes, as he realised it was too late to rein in his excitement. 

“Jumping on my bed?”, she asked Emma, who laughed as she buried her face in her mother’s tummy, not noticing the tight hold she had on her shoulders, ready to pull her away at any given second, out of his sight - out of his reach. 

There was talk of wolves in sheep’s clothing, sneaking into the enclosure and waiting for the right moment to strike.

She now had a wolf sitting at her kitchen table, and yet while she still feared him, he didn’t seem frightening - not now. 

Not when he didn’t even seem to understand the language his son was speaking, let alone the meaning of his words. 

He only stared at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. 

It would only be a matter of time until his son realised the change in him, unless he was distracted- and she felt neither one was ready for that conversation. 

In playful scolding, she clicked her tongue.

“My, my. And there I was thinking you’d been so good I could make you poor knights with jam for breakfast!”

Emma’s head shot up as she wrapped her arms around her waist, jumping up and down.

“Oh please Mummy, please. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good, we both will. Won’t we, Charlie?”

“Yes!”, Charlie agreed, nodding eagerly. “Tell her Dad!”

The poor man looked entirely lost, when his son addressed him, (Y/N) almost pitied him. Almost. But enough to help him.

"Alright then, but I expect you both to help.”

It took thrice as long, with her two little helpers, but they tried and Charlie was especially excited to be allowed to beat the eggs and turn the bread. It also distracted him from his father’s state. 

But Emma wasn’t as easily distracted. 

The newcomer fascinated her, and she wasn’t above treating him like a curiosity. 

"Charlie says you have all the fastest horses in England.”, she announced, building herself up to her full height in front of the most dangerous man in the country. 

And yet, he did not look dangerous now. Instead, he looked downright scared, as he faced Emma’s gaze.  

“Darling, help me with the sugar!”, (Y/N) called, ushering her away. She felt his eyes follow. 

The children thoroughly dug into their breakfast, but Tommy Shelby didn’t even look at it, despite the plate she had sat before him. 

“I’ve got other things…”, she tried. Gangster or not, he was still her guest, and she could sense her mother turning in her grave at the thought of a guest in this house going hungry, especially a guest she herself had fed a long time ago. 

But he shook his head. Then, he got up and gestured to the doorway. 

(Y/N) followed. 

Without looking at her, he leaned closer. She recoiled until her back hit the wall, making him freeze. Swallowing hard he took a small step back and raised his hands in resignation. He also averted his eyes. 

“There’s things to be done…things I have to do.”

Even when he addressed her, he kept his gaze averted. 

“I wanted to leave him with Polly but she’s not exactly open to distractions right now. And he barely knows Ada and doesn’t remember Linda at all so, ah,”

He cleared his throat. “Can I leave him here? Just till things are sorted?”

(Y/N) gasped, glancing around. 

“Mr. Shelby I-”

“I’ll pay.”, he said at once. “Whatever you make, I’ll double it. And I’ll make sure your employers won’t make trouble.”

“Oh no, they won’t be trouble!”, she insisted. Well, she couldn’t guarantee that, but the last thing she wanted was to cause poor Mrs. Cook to have to deal with the Peaky Blinders. No one deserved that. 

“They let me work from home to watch Emma.”, she assured him. 

His eyes followed her hand to see the basket with clothes in need of repairs and he nodded. 

Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out a pile of crumpled up bills. 

“No.”, she insisted. It was too much- far too much. 

“For the groceries.”, he mumbled. “You left them at the house.”

(Y/N) felt her cheeks heat up. For that money she could buy out the grocery shop, and probably the shoemaker next door too- with enough spare change to buy tea for Emma and herself at the tea shop. 

“I can’t accept this much money.”, she whispered under her breath as she heard Emma laugh at Charles for his “berry moustache”. 

He shook his head and muttered something so low she could not hear, as he simply reached out and placed it into the pocket of her dressing gown. 

(Y/N) fought the desire to flinch away from him once more, even if this time his hands were gentle. 

“I’ll come in when I can to see Charlie but I..I don’t know when or how often. There’s too much to be done. Just too much to be done.”

He was muttering like a man possessed but then his hand found her arm and gave it a squeeze. 

“Please.”, he insisted, as his eyes locked her in place. 

“I just need to know someone’s there to take care of him. Someone who won't pretend to just fucking forget.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard. She wouldn’t dream of handing over Emma to a person whom she barely knew. Let alone barely more than a day after pointing a gun at their head. 

“Can you do that?”, he asked. 

“Well, I suppose, but-”

“Thank you!”

With that, he left her standing and crouched down in front of his son. 

“Do you like your breakfast?”, he asked.

Charlie nodded through a mouthful.

“Good.”, he said, stroking his hair. “You know when I said we’d be staying in that house over there?”

Charlie nodded once more, his chewing stopping. 

“Little change of plans. You’ll stay with (Y/N) for a bit. Would you like that?”

His eyes lit up at his words. 

“Can he?”, Emma demanded to know, squirming in her seat. 

“Now I’ll come visit, but I don’t know when.”, Tommy Shelby told his son. “ I need you to be a good boy for me, eh? Don’t make trouble.”

“I won’t, I promise!”, he insisted with half a mouthful of toast and jam. 

With that, he wrapped his son in a tight embrace, before kissing the side of his head. (Y/N) noticed that he didn't dare let go until Charlie had began to pull back. 

After he had put him down, he left without another word. A week ago, (Y/N) thought as she sat down at her kitchen table with the children, her fingers reaching for the cup of tea he hadn't even touched, my life was perfectly ordinary.

End of Part 3

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

~

[Here you can find Part 4]

Taglist: 

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads

TBITW Taglist:

@kaitebugg03

@esistmon 

@chlorrox  

@theshelbyslimited 

@budugu 

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@orkwardx0

@judig92

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@kabbuu

@esposadomd 

#Peaky Blinders #Tommy Shelby #Thomas Shelby #Thomas Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #Thomas Shelby Imagine #The Boy in the Window #valentineswritings

[fandom-puff]

tit-fucking with Tommy Shelby

Warnings: smut, titjob, some degradation, cumplay, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamic, spitting

Gif creds to owner

“Shut the fuck up, and get on your fucking knees,”

The words about to leave your mouth dissipated as you stuttered at your husband. “You’ve got to be joking- what?”

Tommy stared at you across the bedroom, folding his tie neatly. “You heard. Now shut your mouth and kneel,”

With a face like thunder, you sank to your knees, thankful for the plush rug beneath you (though you’d never admit it to Tommy). Scowling, you watched as your husband undid his shirt buttons methodically, barely even acknowledging you.

Bastard.

It had been weeks since he last fucked you, thanks to blinder business and Shelby Company Limited business, and Thomas Shelby OBE DCM MM fucking MP business (as you so eloquently put it). When you had brought this up, Tommy had looked you up and down before giving his order, and now he was taking his sweet time removing his upper clothing.

It seemed he could feel your thunderous gaze, because as he stalked over to you, shirtless, his braces hanging at his hips, he shook his head. “You can wipe that snarl off your face and all,” he told you.

“It’s been fucking weeks since we slept together, and you just expect me to suck you off-“

Your rant was stopped in its tracks as his hand pressed over your mouth, muffling your voice. “I was going to give you a proper seeing to tonight, as a matter of fact. But you went and ruined it for yourself with your attitude, silly girl,” but tommy saw the furrow in your brow and knew how frustrated you were. With his hand still over your mouth, he kissed your forehead, murmuring, “if you’re good and do as I ask, I’ll fuck you through that mattress right through to the room below us, yeah?”

Slowly, he removed his hand from your mouth and raised an expectant eyebrow. You nodded gently, mumbling a ‘yes sir’. Satisfied, Tommy nodded, before his hands darted to the front of your pretty silk dress, tearing it apart. As the mother-of-pearl buttons pinged around the room, you gasped, and Tommy smirked at your wide eyes. “I’ll buy you another,” he promised, before tugging down your bra, until your breasts were bared to him.

Moaning gently, you shifted on the spot, aware of your nipples hardening in the cold air, aided by your arousal. Tommy dragged the stool from your vanity over, and before he sat down, he removed his cock from his trousers, already hard. Instantly, you dropped your mouth open, your tongue lolling out expectantly, making Tommy smirk. “You’re such a well trained little whore, aren’t you?” He said, shaking his head fondly. “As tempting as this is, I’m not gonna fuck your pretty little throat. Not tonight at least,”

You closed your mouth, cocking your head to the side slightly. Tommy crooked his finger at you, beckoning you closer and smirking when you crawled over to him, kneeling right by his knees. “Instead,” he murmured, “I’m gonna fuck those pretty tits,”

Head swimming at the filthy suggestion, you nodded, letting Tommy guide you to kneel up, so that your breasts were level with his cock. “Chin up a minute,” he said, and when you tipped your head back, you gasped at the sensation of Tommy spitting between your breasts. “Good girl,” he murmured, and as you looked down, your eyes widened at the sight of Tommy’s cock between your breasts, the angry red tip right over your heart. “Be a good girl for me, YN, and push those pretty tits together- fuck- there’s a good girl,”

You couldn’t help but moan as Tommy fucked your tits, one hand on your shoulder, the other fondling your nipples, sending electrifying bolts of arousal straight between your legs with each thrust. You were so mesmerised by his cock disappearing between your breasts, before the tip would emerge, over and over, that your jaw went slack and you began drooling down onto his cock.

This only seemed to spur Tommy on, and his grip on your shoulder tightened as his thrusts became shallower, and you gasped at hot cum spattered the tops of your breasts, muddling with yours and his spit.

“Fuck,” Tommy groaned, admiring the mess he had made on you, your tattered dress, your bra pulled down, the straps almost torn, your chest glistening with his release.

Your lips could barely form the word ‘please’, before Tommy was helping you up, and with a nod of confirmation from you, he stripped you of the rest of your clothes, making sure not to disturb the fluid on your chest, which was now spreading over your nipples thanks to gravity. “Fuck…” Tommy grunted, kissing your forehead. “Get on that bed, love… time for your reward,”

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy Shelby x you #tommy Shelby smut #smut tember 2022 #tommy Shelby x reader smut #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagine

[evita-shelby]

Hi !

I would like to ask what do you think about may ? Bcs that scene in the office where she and tommy where talking and he got offended to the fact that she just wanted his horse was so funny to me 😂

If possibly could you do something like that with the reader? If not its ok i understand your busy with your life amd your fics!

I thought it was funny because Tommy’s not used to women who moved on from him, like May admits that she had hoped he'd be different (different being not stringing along three women at the same time and not be an asshole about it). Like he assumed May would be another Grace or Lizzie who never moved on from him because Tommy is used to having that power over women.

So here, a gender neutral reader who just wants to keep things professional after a fling with Tommy that they actually regrets ever having.

The quote from Voltaire is from Hulu's the Great Season 1 Episode 10, where Voltaire says it to Catherine. The last dialogue of the reader is paraphrased to fit the time and the speaker.

What is a man?

Gif by @floweryshell

You hadn’t expected him to act offended when he saw he had no power over you.

He had a wife.

Elizabeth Shelby didn’t deserve to be cheated on, and knowing how miserable he makes her has broken the illusion.

“I’m just here for business. I will manage the cargo ships and your new shares of my petrol company and that will be it.” You had said when you showed up punctual as always.

You had long debated ending things, but you believed yourself in love with him for so long that you couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him in the past.

For fuck’s sake, you were thirty and had a spouse of your own who should’ve divorced you instead of forgiving you.

“So, it’s over then.” His tone says differently. You’ll come back, they always do.

Thomas Shelby had the uncanny ability to be wanted by all those who liked men. You were no different.

The only difference between you and his two wives is that you have the fucking common sense to move on and mean it.

Elizabeth Shelby deservers better than him.

Grace Shelby is lucky she died when he still loved her and his inability to remain monogamous hadn’t shown up yet.

“I know you still want me.” He says because that is how he makes them crawl back to him on their hands and knees.

“What is a man? Some legs, a cock, a few words that float away into nothing as they are said.” You said, reciting a quote some attribute to the French philosopher, Voltaire.

He had laughed when you said it then, he doesn’t laugh now.

“I’ll divorce Lizzy if that’s what you want. We are good together, Y/N, don’t throw that away.” He doesn’t beg or plead. Well, he does in bed, but when he is Thomas Shelby MP OBE he does not.

“For now, tomorrow you could get hit by a car, or you fuck another woman and catch syphilis frm her and French kiss it down my throat and I die mad and worthlessly.” You drink the gin he had served you. You don’t look at him.

It offends him to know how easy it was for you to move on.

It wasn’t your fault he was used to people like Grace and Elizabeth who were too weak to move on.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader

[ninja-potato-shelby-solomons]

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce to you the President of the DIBSH Club, Mr Thomas Shelby, OBE.

#weekly meetings are held at the Garrison on Tuesday nights #dead inside but still horny as fuck

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #tommy shelby and his cock #walking disaster #DIBSH club

[zablife]

Corruption

Jack Nelson x female reader

Summary: You never thought of gaining anything more than a bit of real world experience when you applied for an internship with local police, assisting on the case of Jack Nelson. Instead you gain an obsession with a dangerous, but seductive criminal.

Author's Note: This is a combination of a story idea I had after doing a moodboard for Jack Nelson x criminology student AND a request by a lovely anon who suggested Jack's S/O was turned on by watching him commit a crime. Events of S4 and S6 are combined/misrepresented here. Set in Birmingham but ended up w/ an American film noir vibe.

Warnings: dark!, 🔞, smut, language, mention of murder, blood, shoddy/unrealistic police work

Your internship with the police department hadn’t started as well as you had hoped. Your first day you were treated like a forgotten houseplant, left to gather dust in the corner of the office. You tried to be proactive, offering assistance to the detectives around you, but you were quickly rebuffed and asked to return to your desk to file mountains of paperwork. Worried this would be a huge disappointment, you began counting the days you had left. You couldn’t have known then that your life would soon be complicated by the arrival of a mysterious American.

After two weeks of mind numbing boredom, you walked into work to find a flurry of activity. Much to your surprise, you were asked to sit in on a meeting. However, you were warned not to discuss the details of anything you heard as this was an ongoing murder investigation. You sat at the back of the room as detectives discussed the prime suspect, Jack Nelson.

The lights dimmed and slides with grainy surveillance images flashed before you of a handsome man in his early thirties. As his details were read aloud, you began to make a few notes, feeling your curiosity grow. He had killed at least one man, making the murder look like a suicide. Luca Changretta was a rival gang member from America, killed while in the UK to do business with the Shelby family.

Jack Nelson fit the description of a sociopath. He was charming, intelligent and cocky. He knew he was untouchable and taunted police, daring them to catch him. His file said he was often seen in the company of beautiful women and that he liked expensive luxuries, traveling in style from America to the UK and Europe for his business ventures. He was also well connected to highly influential people, including American and British politicians. He had even met with the President of the United States, which you found highly impressive.

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As the days went by, a few leads came in, but nothing serious. Having little else to occupy your time, you worked tirelessly doing your own research, but it was difficult. Mr. Nelson was obviously good at covering his tracks. His import/export business seemed mostly legal and anyone who had ever suggested otherwise was now conveniently dead. However, not all ties had been severed as you discovered when the infamous Arthur Shelby was brought in for questioning on unrelated drug charges.

High on junk, Arthur revealed he’d seen Jack Nelson at a party talking to another Shelby associate, Billy Grade, recently. That was all he would confirm with his lawyer present, however. Everyone in Birmingham knew the Shelby family dealt in all manner of illegal activities, but they were protected by the head of the family, Thomas Shelby, MP OBE. Luckily, you wouldn't need Arthur's cooperation for anything more. The police finally had a solid lead they could pursue. 

Your role would soon expand as police needed your help making contact with Billy Grade. Surveillance had revealed Nelson was meeting with him again. Knowing how cautious he was, Nelson would sniff out a copper miles away, but if they sent you posing as a prostitute, you could deliver messages to and from Billy without issue. No one in the underworld of Small Heath would bat an eye.

That’s how you became more than an intern. Your life as an undercover special started the next week with a bit of training. It was a dangerous job, but one that ignited a passion in you you’d never felt before.

——————————————————————————-

As you were getting ready to leave for the agreed upon location, your hands shook as you tried to fasten your earrings. What if you weren’t able to go through with it? What if something happened to you and your parents never found out? Too many questions raced through your mind.

Then the image of Jack Nelson flashed before you. There was something alluring about him that you couldn’t quite place. You knew he was a cold blooded killer so you tried to push any thoughts of his handsome features from your mind, but the attraction remained stubbornly implanted in your subconscious. You hoped the distraction was your mind’s way of keeping you from thinking about the harm you faced if he caught you, but you weren’t so certain. 

When you arrived at the hotel where you agreed to meet Billy, you walked briskly through the lobby only to hear someone call out to you, “Miss, please wait! There’s a phone call for you.” You circled back to the front desk somewhat surprised by the interruption. Taking the phone in your hand with a puzzled look, you answered hesitantly, “Hello?”

“Finally get the pleasure of speaking with the girl who’s trying to set me up. How are you, doll?” A low voice drawled over the phone. The crystal clear connection allowed his voice to slice through you, sending a tingle down your spine.

 “Who is this and what do you want?” you asked cupping your hand around the phone so no one else would hear. Slowly turning in a circle, you tried without success to locate anyone watching you.

“Easy, there curious little pussycat. Just thought I should warn you not to play games that are out of your league,” he cooed. The threat was real, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. “I've been watching you for awhile now. You’re a cute kid. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

Boldness returning to you with a sudden shock of adrenaline, you answered, “You’ve got it all wrong, Mr. Nelson.  I think you’re the one who ought to be careful. You've left evidence all over this city and we will find you," you bluffed, gulping at your own audacity to challenge such a powerful man.

He chuckled darkly obviously thrilled by your feistiness, “We’ll see about that, won’t we? Cause I've already found you. The things I'd do to you, doll face. Well...you've seen my work.” Then you heard the click of the receiver as he hung up the phone on his end. 

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You could barely sleep that night knowing that Jack Nelson might be watching your flat at that very moment. How long had he been tailing you, you wondered. You questioned whether or not you wanted to continue helping with the investigation. However, something told you not to give up. Perhaps it was eagerness to prove yourself professionally, but you also knew it sprung from a deeper, darker place inside you that kept replaying the sultry sound of Jack’s voice over and over again like a record. 

At the insistence of the detectives, you were sent out to make contact again three days later. A new location was chosen in a different part of town. Great efforts were taken to ensure you weren’t followed and you were reassured many times that Nelson and his associates would not find you. As added protection, two detectives were assigned to watch the building from a parked car outside and you were confident nothing could possibly go wrong.

However, from the moment you stepped from the cab, the evening felt forboding. Fog was beginning to roll in, obscuring your view of the entrance to the hotel where you were meeting Billy. To reassure yourself, you bent down to adjust the seams of your stockings one last time and checked your garter for the knife you’d stashed there. As your hand brushed the cool metal, you took a deep breath knowing if things went badly you had a way to defend yourself.

Running to cross the street, your red beaded dress shook and shimmied. It was perfect for the part you were playing, dipping low in the front to reveal a bit too much cleavage. You noticed the doorman look you up and down suggestively as you passed and you ducked your head, heels clicking past him on your way to the front desk. As you took the hotel key and made your way upstairs, you felt the familiar rush of doing something dangerous and forbidden. You hated to admit to yourself how addictive it was becoming.

You opened the door to the room slowly, clicking it shut softly behind you. Just as you reached for the light, you heard an unsettling noise. There was a scuffle of shoes and tightening of leather. A man's ragged breaths were followed by a thick gurgling sound. Just as the red lights from the sign across the street poured through the window, it illuminated Jack's tall form holding Billy's lifeless body, blood spilling from an open wound across his neck.

You stood staring, mesmerized by the scene. You'd read plenty about violent crime, but never witnessed anything like this. It was indescribable the fear and awe intertwined. He was nothing short of godlike standing there over his vanquished foe and you were intoxicated by his power over another. Unable to stop yourself, you couldn't look away from the sight of a man who could do anything he wished.

You hadn't realized the gasp you let out until Jack was turning toward you. He lowered the body to the ground where he stood.

“You’re too late,” he said walking toward you slowly, removing his black leather gloves one finger at a time and discarding them on the ground. They were stained with blood and he didn’t want to taint you with it. However, as he stepped over the dead body and the widening river of blood that separated you, he noticed an unmistakable hunger emanating from you. 

Your half closed eyes drank him in lustfully. It was hard to miss as you toyed with your necklace and bit your bottom lip suggestively. You swallowed harshly as Jack came to stand over you, towering above you and grasping your chin in his hand. He squinted his eyes at you in disbelief, “Are you getting turned on by this doll?” You nodded slowly before pushing up on your toes to kiss him hard, hands struggling to push off his heavy overcoat to feel his broad shoulders.

He gripped you painfully by your waist and buried his head in your neck, sucking a bruise into you before leaving a love bite right next to it. As you raked your long nails through his hair, his head traveled south into your cleavage and inhaled your perfume deeply.  You palmed him through his trousers feeling him getting hard beneath your skillful touch and he let out a shaky breath at the delicious feeling.

Knowing he had to regain control, he yanked your hand away and shoved you into a nearby wall. Wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing slightly, he chuckled darkly, “You just couldn’t stay away, could you? Too damn curious, aren’t you, pussycat?”

Unfazed by his question you answered breathlessly, "I'm not afraid anymore." You placed your hand over his and began stroking along his arm. Jack leaned forward to rest his forehead against yours for a moment, "I bet you think you've got nine lives, don't you? What makes you think I won't do the same thing to you?" he said glancing back at the body on the floor.

His hands roamed your body possessively, squeezing you tightly and raking his nails over your skin before coming to rest over your soft thigh. Your breath hitched for a moment when he found the blade you had concealed beneath the lace garter. He unsheathed the weapon, bringing it to his line of sight to study it carefully before turning it on you suddenly. His voice lowered an octave as he brought the blade to your throat and asked,  “You feel that, baby? The electricity in your veins? Is that the thrill you were after, huh?”

Your pulse quickened beneath his touch, heart pounding against your rib cage with a rush of emotion that was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Your eyes flicked to his and you noticed his pupils were blown wide. Jack was making you come alive and you knew you were doing the same for him. You licked your lips and hummed in satisfaction, “I know you won't kill me because you want me as much as I want you,” you said, rubbing your thighs together. 

He smirked at your wanton response, moving the blade to your shoulder and you held your breath when you felt him slice the strap of your dress. Strings popped and beads scattered noisily along the wooden floor. Jack huffed out a sigh of satisfaction as he tossed the knife aside. Turning back to his work, he ripped at the delicate fabric to reveal your breasts to the cool air and more beads went skittering as Jack made no mistake about his intention of ruining you.

He massaged your breasts in his hands roughly as he captured your lips with brutal force, smearing your red lipstick in the process. In his growing need for you, he spun you around to face the wall, placing a few hard slaps to your ass as you pushed yourself out toward him. One hand continued to toy with you, feeling the wetness that had collected along the front of your silk underwear. He shoved the fabric to one side rolling and pinching your clit harshly before entering you in one punishing thrust. You lurched forward, holding yourself up by your palms. Then Jack grabbed your hair, pulling you back toward his chest. You felt the pleasurable burn at your roots, too intoxicated by the drag of his cock within you to care. Your head fell against his shoulder as he growled in your ear, “No good girl cop would let me fuck 'em like this. Think I've got myself a new partner in crime."

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Play list for this fic:

🎧"All the Good Girls Go to Hell" Billie Eilish

🎧"Do it for Me" Rosenfeld

🎧"Devil Eyes" Hippie Sabotage

🎧"Time is Running Out" Muse

🎧"I'm a Fool to Want You" Billie Holiday

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Tag list: @retromafia, @violaobanion, @daddyjack-nelson, @evita-shelby, @tommydoesntpayforsuits, @shelbydelrey, @alanadetigy, @wandawiccan60, @easilyobessedbutflighty, @severewobblerlightdragon, @lovemissyhoneybee, @theshelbyslimited, @kittycatcait219, @peakyrogers, @jackiekae, @peaky-cillian, @kpopgirlbtssvt, @slytherisstuff, @watercolorskyy, @cillmequick, @l1-l4, @tommydoesntpayforsuits, @celticmelody, @notyour-valentine, @noforkingclue, @peakyswritings

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Jack Nelson fanfic #Jack Nelson imagine #Jack Nelson smut #zablife600 #Jack Nelson x reader #Jack Nelson x you #Jack Nelson x y/n

[simmaster]

saw someone describe tommy shelby as a "socialist king" hello? tommy shelby? socialist king? you think thomas michael shelby obe the ultimate class traitor is a socialist king? either this person stopped watching after season two or they have some sort of brain injury because what the fuck are you talking about

#looked at some of my old pb posts and i have one about him union busting #its been a while simce i watched so i'll just have to take past me's word for it that he did that #i do remember generally how he treated his workers so i believe it #he doesn't care about anything other than staying alive and making money. wow socialist king! #tommy has no political beliefs he just says whatever will help him in the moment #and the fucking audacity to praise tommy's politics when ada was such a communist she literally named her baby karl. #not that ada didn't push aside her politics when it came to owning nice things either but at least then mentioned that in the show #this has got me so mad. none of these people understand him no one understands him other than me and belle #micah.txt #peakyposting

[brownskinsugarplum76]

🚨 SPOILER ALERT 🚨

The end of the 3rd Doctor Who special: "It's just myself talking to myself about myself" © Thomas M. Shelby MP, OBE.

#david tennant #ncuti gatwa #doctor who #that quote works for everything #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

[divinekangaroo]

Alfie x Tommy (with a very small side serve of Polly) blind leading the blind anon: you are my final xmas 2023 prompt to write, and I have not forgotten you!

I'm aiming for 11 Feb at my current dire rate of progress, but I have indeed had far more thinking about Alfie than expected; given this might well be the only deep Alfie POV I ever write, after a while battling the urge to unpack, I had to lean into the drive and let myself get into it.

The prompt, "Blind leading the Blind" also lent itself so beautifully to Season 4, given that's the season Alfie's rather fixated on eyes and seeing, and does his blind monologue in front of Luca. S4 being a very complex time in Alfie's arc, to say the least!

Here is a WIP teaser:

Alfie Solomons walks into a bar.

It’s a hotel bar. A nice one.

*

The joke involves that hotel’s business card handed to Alfie by Mr Thomas Shelby OBE, who has writ his own name and a time upon the back.

The setup opens as Tommy's walking Alfie to his car.

Any plans for dinner tonight, Alfie?

Tom gives legs at Alfie's answer, bounding purposefully inside to find that fucking business card for the address and add his many multiplying initials to the rear, rushing to return so the ink’s not even bloody dry, eager as some little lamb.

Of course, it's in full swing now. Already suspicious, Alfie flicks the business card dry.

What’s on offer?

Goat.

Should be in vaudeville with a delivery that deadpan. Excellent sense of timing, too. Alfie catches the brunt in his balls.

Oh, goat, right. Whatever will your poor brother say? You on all fours and my knife at your throat.

Arthur’s not invited, says Tommy.

*

Here's the real setup:

Alfie visits his doctor in response to a callback, a familiar activity, not really thinking about it, but if he was thinking, maybe he thought the visit would involve him being delivered yet another mystical unguent or magical elixir.

Smashing joke, really. Funny.

In his office, because it weren't like he had anywhere else to go, Ollie's left a message on his desk to call Tommy Shelby urgently about a promotion opportunity.

Another callback. Really fucking hysterical. Alfie could die laughing, right, laugh his fucking head off, split his sides, you know. All that. Really crack up.

He calls Tommy.

*

#tommy x alfie #my writing #real world charles solomon and his brothers (hence by extension alfie's father) were the sons of a theatre owner #speculatively for me.Charles Solomons is where alfie gets his...penchant?...for opera and certain forms of the performing arts #also i'll never never get over Sabini spitting “you fucking clown” at Tommy and so... #yes i am indulging myself you probably just wanted smut i'm sorry there is something *like* smut....well after the punchline tho...