Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader 

Warnings - language, angst, implied violence, love at first sight, feels almost unreal etc etc. 

Word Count - 2,671

A/N - So I made a moodboard and got talking with @retromafia. Her creativity rubbed off on me and here we are

***

Every man in the Garrison was distracted today. The ones in the parlour didn’t find whist so interesting. The ones in the booth didn’t like their beers at all. And the one pouring the drink forgot that the woman sipping gin in the corner was unaccompanied.

She wasn’t beautiful, but no man in the pub could take his eyes off her. It was perhaps the calming energy she radiated, as if she were the most peaceful person in the world but wouldn’t hesitate to jump in the cut at any moment.

Even Tommy Shelby, the cold hearted king of Birmingham, couldn’t stop himself from gazing in the woman’s direction from time to time. He probably would’ve left it at that, until Arthur suddenly asked in his slurred voice,

“And who is that?”

“Someone new.” John shrugged, powerless since his wife was with him.

“She is all alone.” Arthur smirked, and began to get up until Tommy’s voice cut in.

“I saw ‘er first.” He said flatly.

“How is that fuckin’ important?” Arthur asked, his smirk getting wider.

“Sit the fuck down, Arthur.” John mocked redundantly, for Tommy was already getting out of the parlour.

“She wears strength and darkness equally well, the girl has always been half goddess, half hell” ― Nikita Gill

[ MASTERLIST ] [ HUBBY!TOMMY MASTERLIST ]

SUMMARY: Tommy’s wife stopped speaking German after the war had broken out, but one day he walks in on her singing a German lullaby to their son.

[ REQUEST ] by @sweetpandacollectionsworld​

AUTHOR’S NOTE: I don’t write specific Readers (only make exceptions for headcanons), so I didn’t make this Reader German – she just knows the language because her mother used to work for the German family. But of course if you’re German, then you can pretend you haven’t read those few sentences in the story 🤣 I’ve only translated the most important/meaningful part of the lullaby for the story, but you can google it anyway, because it’s very pretty (the title of the fic is the lullaby’s name). 🥺

WARNING: English is my second language.

WORD COUNT: 1,460

[ MOODBOARDS ] • requested for my 2k followers celebration by anon

Why is it, when something happens it is always you three?

Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

Summary - Tommy Shelby didn’t consider the lovelorn (Y/N) to be his wife. Little did he realise, she wasn’t with him for love anyway. (Also called - Where Tommy eavesdrops on wife)

Word Count - 1.6k

Warnings - language 

Gif credits - @thesoldiersminute​

A/N - It was not requested, but I felt like I wouldn’t be able to write anything else if I didn’t finish it. 

“Mr. Shelby, I’ll be honest with you. This is extensive work, and would take a lot of time and money. Maybe a simpler-”

Tommy gritted his teeth at the younger man. If the dandy wasn’t the best at what he did, he wouldn’t have even let him enter his house, much less fulfil Grace’s last wish. 

“Money is not an issue. Get your boys here as soon as you can, so we don’t waste any more time.” Tommy said in a clipped tone. 

“As you say.” The architect nodded as he immediately rolled up his sleeves, and Tommy noticed a small tattoo of an empty swing on his forearm. It reminded him of something, but he couldn’t remember what. 

“Your plans are quite brilliant, though. You seem to have worked a lot.” He said approvingly as he traced the design. 

Tommy felt pride burst in his chest as he said, “It’s all my wife’s work.” 

Before he could say anymore, a loud bellow echoed outside the room they were in. 

“Charlie, stop running! You’ll hurt yourself.”

Ignoring the advice, Charlie barged inside the study, and (Y/N) followed, breathless and dishevelled. 

“I’m sorry, he is-” She stopped midway in her apology, and Tommy observed her eyes were comically large and rudely staring in the architect’s direction. 

When was she going to learn basic etiquettes?

Clearing his throat, he showed her towards the architect, who, considering his silence was undoubtedly embarrassed. 

“Meet Jake, he’s the architect I hired. Jake, this is (Y/N). My wife.” He added, almost resignedly. 

Jake smiled tightly. “Nice to meet you. Mr. Shelby was telling me you came up with the ideas for the house.”

She shook her head hastily, looking at Tommy for help. 

“My first wife. Grace.” Tommy corrected curtly. 

Jake slowly nodded. “Brilliant, nonetheless.” 

“I’ll leave you two to work.  It was nice meeting you, Mr. Wilson. Come, Charlie.” (Y/N) said, rushing to leave the room.  

Tommy was busy pouring himself another drink, and didn’t notice the exchange between the architect and (Y/N), or when (Y/N) left with Charlie. 

***

(Y/N) was climbing the stairs to her room when she found Jake leaning against the staircase, perusing Grace’s huge portrait with his entire concentration. 

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” She murmured when she was by his side. 

He immediately reached for her hand, and demanded, “What are you doing, (Y/N)?” 

Easily extricating her hand from his grasp, she said politely, “Jake. Don’t forget where you are.”

But he chose to ignore her veiled threat. “Why, (Y/N)? I didn’t realise money was so important to you. Enough to make you forget everything you once stood for.” His voice grew louder, and she sighed, looking around for nosy butlers and maids. 

“I think we have a lot to talk about. Do you like tea? Or still coffee?”

***

After the architect had left to look around the house, Tommy chose to use that time to go work in the small study, the one his sister Ada used sometimes when she was in town. He was reaching for the doorknob when he heard his wife’s cheery voice. 

“What’s with the scruffy beard?” 

He stopped, just a few centimetres from the partially open door. Who was she talking with? And so frankly at that? 

The answer surprised, perhaps shocked him. 

“To fight the cold, and women like it for some reason. Too bad your husband can’t grow one.” 

Tommy’s clean-shaved jaw clenched, but he ignored the insult. The fucking architect wasn’t coming back to his house after today; he might as well speak his heart out on his last day. In his house, of course. Probably. 

“Shut up. How is Mummy?” 

Tommy’s brows furrowed. As far as he remembered, (Y/N)’s mother was dead. Then who-

“She misses you. Still thinks I should cut my losses and propose right away. She is ready to kill your husband if you say yes.”

This time Tommy tightly gripped the door knob. Who the fuck was his wife?

“Tell her I’d never agree. My husband drinks water from a glass, not straight from the river like an animal.” She taunted, but he heard the smile in her words. 

“That’s the only requirement? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jake sounded genuinely saddened. 

“Go away.” She giggled. 

It took Tommy all his control to not barge inside the room, and pull that bastard away from his wife. He didn’t care about her indiscretions, but he couldn’t tolerate them inside his own house. A small part of him also realised it was the first time he had heard her laugh. It was sweet, not entirely ladylike but good on the ears. 

“But come home for a visit. Everyone would die when they realise (Y/N) married a gangster from Birmingham.” 

“He’s a businessman.” She stated, further confusing Tommy about where her allegiance truly lay. 

Silence followed, and Tommy took a step towards the door to stop the unpleasant activities taking place in the room. But Jake’s soft, regretful voice stopped him. 

“You would have seen the whole world by now.”

“My whole world is here.” She asserted, and Tommy pitied her even more. An affair might have enraged him, but it would’ve proved that (Y/N) had a spine, that she was willing to go against him for once. But she was nothing but a woman hungry for dregs of love. Love which wasn’t and would never be hers to take. 

“I don’t understand, (Y/N). That man doesn’t even consider you as his wife, forget about loving you.” 

There was a pregnant pause from the other side, but Tommy knew whatever answer (Y/N) gave, it was going to humiliate her in front of her friend, or whatever he was. He was about to turn around and leave, when she spoke up. Quietly, plainly. 

“When you left for Paris, many things became clear to me. I realised love isn’t the only thing you require in your life. Sometimes, helping a person can give you a reason to live. For me, that person is Tommy.” 

“He’s so vulnerable, Jake. He hides his fears behind his callousness, hides his heart from everyone, even the people he genuinely loves behind his indifference.”

“After meeting him, I realised I had to help him. Maybe because I wanted to prove something, or maybe because I wanted to help myself. I don’t know. But it just felt right at that moment, and so I decided to marry him.” 

“You’re his guardian angle then?” He asked sardonically. 

She easily dismissed the suggestion. “No. But I like being with him. He’s…honest.” 

“At least you’re honest about that.” Jake chuckled, albeit sarcastically. 

“I’m happy we met, Jake. And I know there isn’t anyone who would do justice to this house except you. But, I would like if we keep our past aside and focussed on the future.” She said nervously. 

“Have I ever said no to you? Consider it done.” 

“Thank you.” She murmured. 

“So, I heard your husband’s plans. What do you want in your house?” Jake asked cheerfully. 

“It isn’t my house. It’s her house, and I want her every wish to be fulfilled.” She said earnestly. 

“That bastard doesn’t realise how lucky he is.” 

That insult didn’t even reach Tommy’s ears, for he was too lost in the conversation he had had with (Y/N) last week at breakfast.

“Can we have a swing in the garden? I always had one at my house.” She divulged, her eyes shining with hope. 

“Yeah, well, this house isn’t your house.” He said in his usual cold politeness. 

She smiled self-consciously, colour rushing on her cheeks. “Of course.”

***

That night, (Y/N) was humming a song in the bedroom. Did she always do that? Or only tonight? Was Jake the reason behind her happiness? 

Annoyed at himself and her, Tommy covertly watched her rub the nauseating cream on her hands from the corner of his eyes, then pick up a comb to brush her hair. Very soon in the process, her attention was caught by a snag in her hair, and she focussed on detangling it, looking very adorable with the frustrated expression on her face. 

He cleared his throat. Once. Twice. 

“Do you need something?” She asked finally. 

Yes. Your attention. 

“Nothing.” He muttered. 

She looked confused, but only shrugged. “All right.”

“The architect, he seem all right to you?” He asked nonchalantly, his entire attention on her. 

Not even a hint of panic or surprise crossed her face. “Yes. He’s good.” She said offhandedly, more interested in arranging the stuff in front of her vanity. 

He was thinking of another excuse to bring up Jake, when the other side of his bed dipped and he found her sitting next to him with an expectant look. 

He looked at her in question. 

“Charlie wants a new violin. I would have bought him one but I’m meeting a friend tomorrow. Can you take him?” She asked with a timid smile. 

He opened his mouth to refuse. But stopped when he heard her voice in his head. I realised I had to help him. 

Having expensive lunches with friends, refusing to help Charlie with his homework, making him take Charlie to the doctor. All had been excuses to bring him closer to his son. And he had spent the past year believing she was not good enough to be a mother. He had thought he was settling for less by marrying (Y/N), when she was the one who had rejected her love to help him. Tommy didn’t like the truth very much. More than that, he didn’t like himself very much. 

“I’ll take him.” He said shortly. 

“Thank you.” A surprised smile spread on her face, and she moved back to lie down on the bed, ready to sleep already. 

“(Y/N).” He said after a few minutes of staring at the lamp.  

Her eyes blinked open, awaiting his order. “Yes?”