pairing: tommy shelby x reader

warning: mild swearing, sexual references

summary: meeting tommy shelby

The rowdy volume within Garrison Pub documented how ill-mannered men sought to be. No consideration for any other customer who hoped to bask in the quiet afternoon before the evening rush. A group of men, no more than four, strolled into the pub as if they owned the place. The way they conducted themselves made it clear their financial statues couldn’t even hold together to purchase a quarter of the pub, as their earnings were wasted on betting tickets and ordering drink after drink. Trying to block them out had not achieved much. Their shouts grew after each horse race, prompting you to ask them to lower their voices. One of the men straightened in his seat, looked you up and down as if you were no more than meat on two legs and spoke in such demand that you prayed for the poor soul who agreed to marry him. “Sweetheart, this is a pub, not a fucking library. So take your book and move along. Let us men enjoy the horse races. Or better yet, sit on my lap and I can enjoy you too”. The other men snickered, two of them even clapped their friend on the back before turning their attention toward the television. 

From the corner of your eye, what appeared to be an empty room resided adjacent to the bar and entrance, held the chance to re-take some peace. Collecting your purse, you walked over, to only be halted by the bartender’s voice.

“Excuse me, Miss. I’m sorry but you can’t go in there”.

“It’s an empty room, is it not?”.

“Yes”. The bartender confirmed, adding additional information that judging from his tone should have meant something to you, it didn’t. “But that’s Tommy Shelby’s room”.

“And is this Tommy Shelby here right now?”.

“Well…no”.

“Then I don’t see what the trouble is. When he arrives, if he arrives, I will give him back his precious room”. Without waiting for another reply, you closed the door and breathed in the quiet.

For the last half an hour, Mickey anxiously severed customers, scrubbed down the bar and glanced towards the glass doors. It wasn’t until the afternoon betting squad had vacated did Tommy arrive. He acknowledged Mickey, asking for his usual whiskey.

“I tried to tell her, Mr Shelby, but she insisted on using your room to read”. Mickey confessed, handing Tommy his drink. “A woman, didn’t catch her name said the pub was getting too noisy with the drunken men and the fellows listening to the horse races, so she decided to go into your room for some quiet”.

Tommy’s interest peaked at the individual who boldly decided to defy a well-known rule. Upon entry, Tommy found your focus engrossed in the book that not even the sound of the door closing altered your concentration. As Tommy lit his cigarette, he took those extra few seconds to take you in. Back leaning against the wall with legs stretched out on the cushioned seats, not even he could deny your natural beauty, slightly enhanced by the faint sun bouncing off the windows. Tucking away his cigarette tray back into his coat pocket, Tommy cleared his throat to capture your attention.

“If I hear one more “well, sweetheart, the pub ain’t a place to read”, I will throw my book and pray it hits your face”.

“Then it’s a good thing you won’t be hearing that from me”.

The husky, yet, velvet voice broke you away from the sentence you had been reading. It held quite the contrast to the skin-crawling voices of the men from earlier. The man standing before you dressed better too. From head to toe, his suit screamed money. Respectable or feared - perhaps both - illuminated from not only his clothing but his entire being. But it was his eyes that made it difficult to turn away. The grey swirling through captured a coldness, but the light blue gave off subtle depths of warmth.

“You must be Tommy Shelby?”.

“I am. And you are?”.

Setting down your book, you adjusted your position to a more socially acceptable lady-like manner, crossing one leg over the other under the table. “A woman who wanted to read”.

“And you choose a pub to do so?“.

“Every afternoon at 2 pm I come into this pub, treat myself to a drink that I desire on the day, and every afternoon this pub has been quiet and a suitable place to read. And I will not allow a bunch of unruly men to ruin that”.

Tommy raised his eyebrows and took the seat opposite, giving him enough room to spread his legs and sit in a manner that exhibited dominance. “You’ll be happy to know those men have left, 20 minutes ago, in fact”.

“Then I shall be on my way too. I told your bartender when you arrive, I’d leave”.

“Or you can stay and have a drink with me?”. Tommy flickered his eyes to you, tapping the excess ash in the tray residing on the table.

“My afternoon has already been spoiled, I don’t care to have it spoiled even further”.

“Don’t you want to at least finish your chapter?”. He called out, seconds before your hand reached the door handle. “I gather you’re not the type who particularity likes leaving a page half-read”.

His observation hadn’t been false, which irritated you. Only few minutes into the conversation and here he was smugly making assumptions and with sheer luck getting them right, which told you he was well-versed in how to read people.

Exhaling, you detested the four steps back to the seat, opened your book and continued reading. “I am only staying until I finish my chapter. Not because I enjoy your company”.

Tommy said nothing, exiting the room to return several minutes later. For the most part, he kept the silence. But even if his voice wasn’t being distracting, his glances were, getting to the point where you returned an exasperated glance of your own. He smiled, discarding the cigarette and reached for the newspaper left behind.

Eventually, you finished, but did not make an attempt to leave. Instead you posed a question to the Shelby that had flickered to your mind while reading. “Which do you prefer - Tom, Thomas or Tommy?”.

“All three coming from your mouth, sweetheart”. He smirked, even more so when the visible irritation of the pet name given flashed across your face. “You can call me whatever you like”.

“There must be one you prefer?”.

“No. I have no preference”.

Resting both arms on the table, you leaned slightly forward. “From what I gather, Tommy is most likely used by everyone. Tom could be solely for close friends and family. And Thomas is somewhere in between, perhaps said, to even get under your skin, or under your sheets”.

“And which do you want to do, eh?. Get under my skin, or under my sheets?”.

You smiled, unable to fault his confidence. He had spades of it, and no shyness in using it to charm. But he was no different to the sea of men who used their various levels of charm to entice women. However, you concluded Tommy most likely had more success. Leaning back, you replied. “Neither. Because I suspect doing either wouldn’t be worth it”.

“I can assure you, any fuck with me is worth it”.

“I have no doubt the women taking your money would agree”.

Smirking, Tommy reached for another cigarette, “You said you come by every afternoon?”.

“I do”.

He nodded and stood, running the cigarette along his bottom lip, unable to resist getting under your skin once more. “Enjoy your book, sweetheart”.

“Oh, I will, Thomas”. You retorted, earning a chuckle from Tommy as he exited the pub.

The following day at 2 pm, the pub had been quiet. Then the day after, and the day after that had been the same. On Thursday afternoon, you wandered in to find the pub partially empty, expect for Tommy Shelby leaning by the bar.

"I do hope you found your afternoons pleasant?“.

“I have. No unruly men to ruin my mood”.

"Good. Drink?”. He asked, holding up a bottle of champagne that no doubt cost twice the salary of a regular working man.

“No”. Sharply replying, taking a seat in one of the booths.

Tommy made himself comfortable at one of the tables facing the booth you had chosen. Three minutes into your read, his distracting stare couldn’t be ignored any longer.

“I suppose you’re waiting for a thank you for ensuring my visits these last few days to your pub were free of rude men”. You muttered, eyes never leaving the page. “I’m afraid you’re going to need to find someone else to stroke your ego”.

“Already stroked. And don’t worry, I paid her well”.

Choosing to engage no further, the book held your attention for six pages until Tommy set down a glass of champagne at your table and moved towards the bar to pour himself another whiskey. As he poured, he inquired. “That book you’re reading, what’s it called?”.

Showing him the cover, Tommy read the title out loud: ‘The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton’.

“You wouldn’t like it”. You added.

“That’s quite the assumption”.

Placing the book down, you turned to face Tommy. “It’s about a man who has to choose whether to marry a woman who provides him with no excitement or chose a woman who is utterly intoxicating. My assumption still stands, you wouldn’t like it”. Tommy’s mouth curled in a half-smirk. “Then again, you might even relate to one of the characters. From what I’ve heard, wives have pretended they aren’t married just to spend one night with you”.

“Like I said, any fuck with me is worth it, sweetheart”.

Exhaling, you pressed your lips together. Grabbing the glass still full of champagne, you walked over and stared directly in his eyes. They bore a darker grey on the outside and in the center flickers of blue shone. You drank the entire champagne and sat down the glass.

“I’m not your sweetheart, Thomas”.

- as soon as I saw Duke and Finn sat near each other with a look in the garrison I knew some shit was gonna go down and I actually really liked the scene with Isaiah, Billy, Finn and Duke. I think one thing that has never really been spoken about is the dynamics of the peaky blinders once the OG generation is gone, and this really dug into the tensions that had been building for years. was interesting that Finn and Isaiah are not close anymore.

- wow the fraternal bond between Arthur and Tommy. it really always comes back to them two. Arthur possibly drowning himself in the river so he would be with Tom. wow.

- Gina being an absolutely awful person. yeah I dislike her but it's super interesting how the dynamic between her and Michael works. also. am not surprised Tommy didn't die in the bomb but was mildly surprised that Tommy killed Michael.

- Tommy setting up for Ada to carry on the business but also become a politician because she is not as tainted as he, and perhaps has stronger morals.

- the final cathartic scene of Tommy watching his whole life burn (as his massive ghost house has been blown to pieces) while he sits atop the horse. is obviously a cyclical reference to the very opening scenes of series one. man.