#peakyblinders

[captivatedbycillianmurphy]

New pics of My Irish Angel!

[scxrecrowz]

this is un fucking believable.

[shelbystales]

Stay - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Word count: 4532

Requested by: @morrigan-crowmwell

Summary: Tommy realizes that despite him trying to avoid it, he loves and needs you.

Warning: angst, fluff and rough smut with dirty talk?

A/N: This was inspired by a brazilian song called "evidências", as requesteted. I hope you like it😘 .

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

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He entered forcefully, pushing the door of your room open like a hurricane.

"Stop it," he ordered, pointing his finger at you.

You glanced at him, but your hands kept busy, packing your bags, shoving clothes into a bag that was clearly struggling to fit even half your dresses.

"I told you to stop," he said, approaching you and closing shut the door of your small wardrobe.

"Make me," you said irritably, trying to force the door open, but his hand on top of it prevented the process.

You rolled your eyes and carried on, your determined hands struggling with the stubborn zipper. You tried to wrestle the wardrobe open once again, a frown deepening on your face, but just as before, his hand on it prevented your success.

You sighed loudly, grabbing your bag from the bed and headed toward the door, ready to leave the scene.

He grabs your wrist firmly, preventing you from reaching the door, stopping you from leaving.

"Let me go!" you shout and struggle against his grip, but he doesn't let go of your wrist. His gaze seemed disturbed like he was out of himself. "Are you drunk?" you ask, pulling your hand, hating the fact that he's stronger than you.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, and you clearly notice the knot in his throat.

"Tommy, you're hurting me," you say as the strength of his grip on your wrist becomes stronger.

"You can't do this. You can’t leave me" he says.

"Why do you care?" you ask angrily, pulling your wrist as you feel he loosened his grip on it and took a step back.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, his eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of frustration and desperation. He runs his fingers through his hair, a sign of his internal struggle.

“Tommy, what the fuck? You can't just barge in like this and do this” you said angrily

he swallowed harshly and looked around the room, the same room he had been with you many many nights before. The same room where he sleep nestled against your neck, smelling your scent to prevent his fucking nightmares. The same room he told you he couldn’t be with you, that he didn't want to be with you. The same room he broke your fucking heart. 

“It’s not fair,” you added, letting go of your bag to fall loudly to the floor. 

“Fair?” he chuckled “life isn’t fair” he said frustrated. 

His response only fueled your anger.

It felt like he was dismissing your feelings, brushing them aside with his cynicism. You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him with a mixture of irritation and hurt.

"Life isn't fair? Is that all you have?" you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Tommy clenched his jaw, his fists curling at his sides. His eyes held a storm of conflicting emotions – regret, anger, and an undeniable pain that seemed to cut through his tough exterior.

"It's not like that, ey" he said, his voice strained. "I never wanted any of this to happen."

"Oh, so it's not your fault then?" you retorted, your tone dripping with bitterness “you stood right there” you pointed at one side of the room “and you told me you couldn’t fucking love me anymore! Like, what the fuck! Poor misunderstood Tommy Shelby… you wanted me to beg? to do what?! To run after you like a fucking dog. To beg for your love. Was that it? Tell me, what did you want?”, you couldn't restrain the anger in your voice

He winced, as if your words were a physical blow. You could see the pain in his eyes, a flicker of regret that he was desperately trying to hide. But it was too late for that – the dam had broken, and the flood of pent-up emotions was pouring out

“That’s because I love you” he said, making you laugh in disbelief 

“Fuck you!” you barked at him

“When I said i didn’t want you anymore, thats because I still fucking do” he spat out.

“What? Are you bloody high?” you shook your head 

He seemed to search inside for the right words. It was clear he was struggling.

“I can't let you leave” he stated

“Its not up to you” you answered coldly

“I will blow every road out of this damn city if I have to, drown every boat. But you are not leaving, eh” he warned, his finger raised, pointing at you as a warning sign

“I hate you so much right now” you whispered, your words seeming to have an effect on him. He breathed deeply and looked at the ceiling of your room

"Look, I know I messed up," he admitted, his voice quieter now.

"You damn right you did," you said, your anger still burning hot.

His frustration crackled in the air like an electric current. Everything was spiraling out of control, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. He watched as you challenged him, your voice a mix of irritation and hurt. It was a pain he was intimately familiar with, one he had tried to distance himself from.

He knew he was the architect of his own misery. The moment he let himself care, truly care for you, he had opened the door to chaos. His heart, so carefully guarded, now laid exposed and vulnerable.

He took a step closer to you, his gaze intense, burning with a mixture of what you assumed to be anger and fear.

His heart raced in his chest, each beat a reminder of what he stood to lose. He wanted to grab you, to shake some sense into you, to break down the walls he had built between you.

But his hand remained at his side, clenched into a fist. He could feel the heat of his anger pulsating through him, but it was masked by an even greater terror - the terror of losing you.

"You think I wanted this?" he finally spat out, his voice raw. "You think I wanted to hurt you?"

You didn't answer, your eyes locked onto his, a mixture of defiance and something deeper.

He ran a hand through his hair, the usually impeccable locks now disheveled, mirroring the chaos inside him. Every step he took seemed to carry the weight of his uncertainty, his fear of losing something he hadn't realized he'd grown so dependent on.

"This is bloody ridiculous. I can't do this, alright? I can't bloody bear the thought of you walking away," he muttered to himself, his voice taut with frustration.

His gaze flickered to the door, as if half-expecting you to disappear beyond it any second. The very idea seemed to send a jolt of panic through him.

"You drive me mad!" he said, his voice rising in agitation.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, his breathing uneven as his gaze darted around the room, searching for some form of escape from the vulnerability clawing at him.

"I've denied it, tried to pretend I didn't need you, that I could bloody well do without you," he admitted, "but I need you," he practically spat out, the words almost foreign on his tongue. "More than I care to fucking admit. You're under me skin, in me bloody bones, and I'm terrified of what that means. I’ve tried but I can't fool me heart, I can't keep lying to meself” 

His voice cracked, the dam of his emotions threatening to break completely.

The room felt stifling, a cage that held him captive with his own fears. Tears welled up in your eyes, the battle between your anger and your love for him raging within you. You took a shaky breath, your own vulnerability exposed.

"You can't leave," he said, his voice low but laced with a desperation that belied his usual composure. "I won't let you. I can't." His admission hung in the air, raw and unfiltered.

Tommy's agitation reached a fever pitch, his body tense, his eyes wide with a mix of anger, fear, and something deeper that he struggled to name.

He couldn't let you go – not now, not ever. The very idea of you slipping through his fingers was enough to shatter his carefully constructed world.

You stared back at him, the weight of his words sinking in.

A mixture of anger and hurt still lingered within you, the wounds of his past actions still fresh. But now, in this charged moment, you could see that he was baring his soul to you.

You didn’t know what to do, what to say. part of you wanted to shout at him, to slap him to push him to the floor and kick his guts… but at the same time, part of you wanted to run to his arms, to kiss him, hold him strongly… truthfully, Your heart ached as you watched him struggle

You stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His eyes followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and apprehension in his gaze.

Your hand reached out, your fingers gently uncurling his clenched fist, the gesture a silent reassurance.

"I can't lose you," he choked out, his voice a mere whisper, his eyes searching yours for some form of understanding.

"I don't want to leave," you admitted softly, your voice breaking “but… you can't just come in here and say all of that after causing me so much pain. The past won't just disappear, Tommy. You can't just expect me to forget everything and come running back."

He shook his head, his hand shifting to cup your cheek, his touch warm against your skin. "I'm not asking you to forget," he said, his voice gentle but urgent. "I'm asking for a chance. A chance to make things right, eh? to show you how much you mean to me. I know I fucked up. But I need you, I need your lips on mine." His thumb gently brushed over your bottom lip. "I’ll give you my life, you can do whatever you want with it. I just want to hear you say yes, that you'll give me a chance to fix it. To fix us."

You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch, torn between the memories of pain and the yearning for something more.

His thumb brushed away a tear that had escaped your eye, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Tommy… I…," you whispered, losing your words. 

His gaze bore into yours, his thumb now tracing a path from your cheek to your lips, a feather-light touch that ignited a spark within you. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sincerity and vulnerability, a stark contrast to the tough exterior he often presented to the world.

"Say you'll give us a chance," he murmured, his words hanging in the air like a fragile plea.

His hands still cupped your face, his touch warm against your skin. His eyes danced between your lips and your eyes, a silent request for permission.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the battle between your head and your heart reaching its peak.

His touch, his words, they were like a balm to your wounded soul. And in that moment, you found yourself leaning in, your lips just a breath away from his.

"Tommy," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I want to believe you."

His eyes held yours, a mixture of relief and longing in his gaze. Slowly, almost hesitantly, his lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss.

The kiss was short and when his eyes locked on yours again. his hand cradled your cheek, his thumb tracing light patterns on your skin as if he didn't want to let go.

You took a deep breath, embracing your own vulnerability. "Tommy, I…I can't go through the same pain again. I won’t forgive you again"

“You won’t need to” he reaffirmed, his voice unwavering. His thumb kept brushing your cheek.

You nodded slowly, feeling a mix of apprehension and hope you gave him a small smile, trying to give him some comfort. As response, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close in a tight embrace, His heartbeat thudded against you. 

It was like a weight lifted off both your shoulders, replaced by a warm sense of security. You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

His fingers played with your hair, his touch gentle and soothing.

There, in his arms, you allowed yourself to believe in the possibility of healing.

He pressed a soft kiss on the top of your head and breathed deeply your scent, a scent that soothed him as a reminder of home.

“I love you” he whispered in your ears

“Fuck… I love you too” you said holding stronger onto him.

He pulled even estronger, his arms pressed strongly against you as if he was afraid you would slip away

As his arms held you close, his aftershave and Cologne mixture scent mingled with the warmth of his skin, enveloping your senses in a heady combination. Your fingers traced the contours of his chest, feeling the texture of his skin under your touch.

His fingers, which had been tracing patterns on your back, now ventured lower, roaming over your ass, his touch light and teasing.

His lips brushed against your forehead, a soft and lingering kiss that held a promise of more.

Your breath hitched as his fingers trailed along your spine, sending a trail of tingling sensations.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of anticipation and a touch of apprehension.

"Tommy," you murmured, your voice barely audible, but laden with unspoken desire.

He swallowed audibly, his eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored your own. His fingers moved from your back to gently lift your chin, tilting your face up towards his and then his lips were on yours, a kiss that ignited a fire within you.

His lips moved against yours with a fervent passion, his hands sliding down to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, tangling in his hair as you responded to his kiss with equal fervor.

His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, placing soft kisses along the way. Your breath hitched as his teeth grazed your skin, sending a jolt of sensation straight to your core. Every touch, every brush of his lips, was a delicious torment that fueled the growing heat between you.

"Fuck, I've missed you," he breathed against your skin, his voice husky with desire.

The confession sent a shiver down your spine, the intensity of his words adding fuel to the fire burning within you. Your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with a sense of urgency. His hands mirrored your actions, working together, desperately to rid each other of the barriers that separated your bodies.

As the last button came undone, his shirt, suit and gunholster slipped from his shoulders, revealing his bare chest.

Your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos, feeling the rise and fall of his chest with each ragged breath.

Your dress was eventually discarded to the floor along with his clothes. You felt so desperate for him, both almost ripping each other's clothes off like animals.

Leaning against the wall across him there was a full-body-length mirror giving him a perfect vision of your ass, and back as he moved his kisses around your neck and shoulders.

He put a hand on your ass and caressed it softly before drawing his hand back and spanking it hard. The slap was sharp and loud in the small bedroom and it mixed with your moan. You dug your nails on his back.

“You're so fucking hot,” he said, noticing the skin of your ass becoming pinkish forming his handprint, moving to the other cheek, he squeezed it once, before slapping it just as hard.

He didn’t lose time, his lips met yours, sliding desperately.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss as if trying to express all the longing you had held back. The taste of him, the pressure of his lips moving against yours, were like fuel.

With a swift and confident movement, he scooped you up in his arms. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his lower back as he carried you effortlessly towards the bed, where he gently placed you against the sheets. His lips never leaving yours.

He pinning you to the bed, kissing you with even more passion as he pressed his aching dick into your body through fhe fabric of his pants and briefs.

With your arms pinned against the bed, he started kissing your neck and kissing his way down to your breasts, and began to circle one of your nipples with his tongue.

“oh, Tommy. Fuck” you moaned as he closed his lips around one of your nipples, sucking it firmly.

He kissed your collar bone and moved to your earlobe, biting it playfully. 

“Tell me how bad do you want it” he whispered, his voice hoarse

“I want it so fucking bad. Fuck, i need it” you moaned

Tommy slid his pants off as if his life depended on it, his briefs slipping off along with it.

He flipped your body so that your stomach was pressing against the mattress. A movement that he did so effortlessly. Giving him the perfect view of your ass, which, according to him, was the most beautiful part of your body. 

He took his hand and gave your ass another firm slap, before firmly grabbing both yout asscheeks and spreading them apart. 

“So fucking beautifull” he praised. 

he leaned over you, his face now close to yours, where he left a few kisses on your cheek. his mouth right next to your ear again, just because he knew that turned you on. 

“I going to fuck you real good, ey” he said, his hands sliding between your legs, a finger sliding inside of you.

“Please” you moaned, spreading your legs a bit more apart

He stood back up, so that he could rub his dick against your asscheeks a few times before positioning it against your wet folds, leaning slightly, applying more and more pressure as he adjusted his posture before completely sliding inside of you. 

“Fuck, yes” you moaned as you felt him  inside of you. 

He reached one of his hands to hold at your shoulders, while the other reached one of your arms, pulling it to your back, holding you firmly as he started pounding nice and hard against you.

With every stroke you felt him deeper, moans left your lips involuntarily. His name eventually mixed with the sensual sounds leaving your lips, making Tommy wish you’d never stop. Every moan serving as a fuel for his hard thrusts to get harder and deeper

“Fuck, fuck… Tommy. Oh fuck” you moaned and felt the same strong slap on your left asscheek, then on your right “yes! just like that” you told him

Everytime your perfectly red ass pressed against his hip bones his mind took mental pictures, he would be daydreaming about you like this for the next few days. This, you… was exactly what he needed. The only one he needed. 

“You like it, hm?” he asked breathlessly as he slapped your ass one more time

“Yes, yes I do” you told him, biting your lower lip. 

“Fuck you feel so good” he let his head fall back, momentarily taking his eyes off you. “Tell me, y/n. Tell me you love it”

“I love it Tommy. God, I love your fucking cock so so much. Fuck just like that” your words spit out so quickly, desperate for him not to stop.

He held at your hips pulling them against him everytime he thrusted, making the movement rougher by the minute. 

You were feeling so overwhelmed by the feeling of him deep inside you that the orgasm that washed over you was inevitable. It wasn't common but vaginal orgasms happened once in a while with you, making you impressed everytime it did. 

“Fuck! I coming, i’m coming” you told him, as the orgasm washed over you, your face buried on the duvets

Without letting you recover from it, he pulled out and rolled you over to your back, your tits now reaching up, hard for him. He leaned over to kiss one of them as he pinched the other one hard.

“Fuck!” you cried at the feeling 

He then laid beside you, pulling your hips to him as he did “Get up here and sit on me”, he said and you slowly stumbled upwards to mount him. 

Your head spinning slightly, out of breath as you were still feeling the effects of pleasure course through your veins. As you got on top of him you held his cock, stroking it a few times before directing it to your entrance and slowly lowering your hip, sliding his cock back inside of you, where it belonged. 

“Fuck yes, ride that cock, real nice” he said as your hips moved back and forward. Tommys eyes were a combination of lust and admiration as he looked up to your bouncing tits and moaning lips. 

Both your moans filled the room and you could feel his body shake slight from the pleasure building up at every hip movement. He reached to hold both your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making the pleasure harder to handle as your legs started to feel weaker. 

Tommy leaned upwards pushing your hips against him, dictating the intensity of the moves as he was now working with you, his hips moving up, as yours pressed down on his. 

“Fuck, i’m getting close” He muttered 

“Me too, oh god. me too” you told him and took your fingers to start caressing your clit as you continued the movements, feeling the knot in your stomach starting to grow stronger. 

“Yeah, Just like that, ride that, fucking, cock” he said pausing between words everytime his hips pressed up. 

His grip tighter on your hips, his eyes fucking you as the most lustfull moan escaped his lips, his primal instincs taking over as he moved up, throwing your back against the bed as he started to fuck you faster and harder than ever before. His grunts, getting deeper and louder. 

“Fuck! Don’t stop, don't stop! Fuuuck” You cried surprised at the new feeling. Your nails digging at whatever piece of flesh of his you could grab hold, scratching his skin. 

You were already so close and his attack just made everything more intense, the knot that was forming before, was already strong and ready to explode. But for some reason it didn't, it just kept growing and growing.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good” he told you out of breath, his atack on your nipples returning as one of his hands pinchend and twisted them. 

All you could do at this point was moan the words fuck repeatedly, your body starting to shiver. Your moans were turning him on so hard you knew he wouldn't last longer.

“Fuck, so close, so close. Don’t stop” you warned him,seconds before your body freezing as the best orgasm washed over you, your head spinning, a burning feeling washed over around your entire body as your skin felt hotter.

The sexiest moans leaving your lips followed by Tommys name, and that combined with your shivering state, was enough to push him over the edge. He couldn't hold anymore, a primal grunt escaped his lips and his moves got uncoordinated as he emptied himself inside of you, coming so hard he thought he would pass out, his vision getting blurred. After a few more strokes, he allowed himself to collapse on the bed beside you. 

"Holy shit," he whispered, his voice still tinged with disbelief and desire as he caught his breath.

The room was silent now, just the sound of your labored breathing filling it as you both recovered. Your labored breaths began to synchronize, creating a rhythm that seemed to echo the connection between you. 

Tommy's fingers brushed against your skin, as he moved to kiss your neck and collarbone. His touch, now gentle and caring.

His hand cupped your face, his fingers caressing your hair as he gazed into your eyes. You smiled at him and he smiled back, a small smile, but a huge one for a man like him.

“That was something” your voice laced with a mixture of amazement and satisfaction.

His chuckle resonated in the room, a sound that felt like a secret shared between the two of you, since not many would ever hear the sound of a Tommy’s Shelby chuckle

“Yes it was… Want a cigarette?” he asked and you nodded, watching him stand up and grab his overcoat, searching for his pack of cigarettes. 

He found his pack and lit one cigarette. The sight of him, half hard as he slid the cigarette over his lips before lighting it felt like the sexiest thing you’ve seen. The flicker of the cigarette illuminated his features in the dim light, casting shadows that danced across his face.

Slowly, he began to approach you, his eyes fixed on yours. He held your chin gently, making you sit, his fingers warm against your skin, as he took a drag from the cigarette. The smoke curled between his lips before he leaned in, exhaling the smoke into your mouth. The act was surprisingly intimate, making your core tinkle. 

He took another drag from the cigarette, his eyes never leaving yours as he sat beside you. The air seemed charged with electricity as he exhaled, the smoke curling around you both like a fragile veil. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned closer, his lips a whisper away from yours.

"You're something else, you know that?" he murmured, his voice husky with a mixture of arousal and admiration as he held your face and kissed you, feeling the taste of the smoke on his lips.

"You're not so bad yourself," you replied, your voice a low murmur .

His lips curved into a half-smile, the playfulness in his eyes contrasting with the intensity of his gaze. The cigarette rested between his fingers, forgotten for the moment as his focus remained solely on you.

the intensity of his gaze was overwhelming, he was fucking you with his eyes. your lips finally met in a hungry, passionate kiss, his lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, a craving for each other almost as if you hadn’t spent the last minutes fucking eachother senseless. 

As the kiss deepened, his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. 

When your lips finally parted, breathless and flushed, his words reached your ears like a plea. "Don't you ever think of leaving again."

You met his gaze, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, the depth of his fear and desire. The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air, the intensity of the moment a testament to the connection you shared.

"I won't," you whispered, your voice laced with determination. "But you have to promise me something too." His brow furrowed slightly, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he waited for your words. "Promise me that you won’t shut me out again," you said, your voice soft but firm. "No more pushing me away, Tommy. If we're going to do this, to really make it work, you have to be all in."

He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face as if trying to decipher every emotion you were feeling. And then, with a nod, he gave you a small, genuine smile.

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[samcoving]

[anarchyyone]

Cillian Murphy at almost 17 years old.

[justimagineitblog]

“You Used To Love Me” Michael Gray Fan Fiction - Chapter 13

Well hi *I wave sheepishly from behind the computer screen*

Let me start by saying I am so so sorry that the conclusion of this story took so long - I have barely been writing for a really long time. 

But this story and doing it justice has always been in the back of my mind, and I finally got myself to finish it for all of you who have been so loyal and patient.

Here is the final Chapter of You Used To Love Me.

All my love, I hope you enjoy x 

Besides the obvious shock at seeing him at such a fucking inopportune time, his presence sends an immediate chill down my spine. 

I have to physically close my eyes to try and rid my mind of the thoughts and flashbacks to the other night, when he kissed me. When we kissed each other. 

The room collectively falls silent. No one tries to stutter over their words. No one tries to save the moment with some excuse. Just pure silence. All of us processing what has just unfolded. That is until Gina finally speaks. 

“Well, I guess the gig is up” she says, almost laughing. 

I don’t even look at her. My eyes are just glued to Michael. I watch his face contort into 100 different shades of confusion. 

When no one else speaks, when nothing is elaborated, he looks back and forth between all of us, searching desperately for an answer. 

“Izzy?” He says my name, his tone just begging me for an answer. 

“This isn’t on her…” Gina begins, standing up slowly from the floor and straightening her dress “I’m pregnant, Michael” 

And just like that, the bomb is dropped. But that’s not even the worst of it. My heart aches inside my chest, knowing that it’s about to get so much worse for Michael. 

I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow the air in the room grows heavier. 

My whole body tenses at I wait to see Michael’s reaction. 

He doesn’t know it’s not his yet. 

He runs his eyes over her, covering his mouth in shock when he finally notices the small baby bump just beginning to show through her dress. 

“Oh my god” he runs a hand through his hair, his hands trembling.

He doesn’t speak, he just shakes his head in disbelief. No excitement. No joy at the thought of having his own child. And that says it all. He isn’t happy. This is not the life he wanted for himself. 

Part of me want’s to tell him about Gina’s infidelity. To tell him that he is not having a child. That he is not going to be stuck raising a child with a woman he doesn’t love. But before I can even find the words, his head stops shaking and his brows furrow. Like a lightbulb switched on in his mind. Like something clicked. It’s like I can see him mind doing back flips as he realises that something doesn’t add up. 

He looks back up at Gina, who is chewing at her bottom lip nervously. She is also waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

Like she said, Michael is smart. It won’t be long before it dawns on him, and I know she does not want that moment to unfold before all of us, here in this room. 

“I would like a moment alone with my husband” Gina says quickly, as she looks over at Polly and I. She knows Michael is starting to catch on to what he knows deep down inside. This is not his baby. 

I take her queue to leave immediately, reaching for Polly’s hand. “Come on Pol, let’s go make some tea yeah?” I say, locking eyes with her and nodding towards the doorway. 

Polly’s catches on, and she takes my hand as we both make our way out of the room. As we exit I quickly glance back over my shoulder to find Michael looking at me gravely, before Gina closes the door behind us.

Polly and I walk downstairs and into the kitchen in complete silence. I start making tea, but Polly touches my arm.

“This is not a time for tea… I’ll get the whisky”

I nod. I’m like a soldier with shell shock. I can barely speak. I can barely move as I lower my body stiffly into a chair at the dining table. 

I’m straining with all my might to hear the conversation going on upstairs between Gina and Michael, but it’s eerily quiet. 

I know what she is telling him now is being said in hushed voices. 

Polly slides a hefty glass of Whiskey in my direction, and tasting the bitter drink is the only thing that brings me out of my frozen trance. 

“Michael’s not going to be a father” she says out of the blue, with her face all knowing, as though she has read the room and understands the situation. 

“No” I affirm her suspicions, although she already knows without me needing to “No he’s not” 

“One day” Polly responds, holding eye contact with me.

I’ve always known Polly has senses. Everyone in the Shelby family knows. Hell, everyone in fucking town knows. She see’s things. Feels them. She know’s Michael will one day be a father. I’m not psychic and even I knew that. He has a way with children. He’s wonderful with them. And in this moment, I know exactly who she thinks he will be having children with. I know what she’s insinuating. 

I almost jump straight out of my seat when I few minutes later, I hear footsteps coming down the staircase. 

I quickly sink the rest of my whiskey, as Gina and Michael enter the dining room. 

“I’m taking Gina to the hospital, I’ll be back later. Tell Tommy we have to reschedule our meeting to another day” 

Michael is holding his cap in his hands, gripping it so tight that his knuckles have gone white. But they’re not as white as his face. I can’t tell if he looks like he’s seen a ghost, or if he is the ghost. 

Gina looks down at the floor, then up at the ceiling. Basically anywhere but at our faces. 

Polly nods, knowing that now is not the time to have words with either of them. I’m actually impressed with how civil she is being towards Gina in this moment. In light of the severity of the situation. 

Michael ushers Gina out the front door, and moments later the cars wheels turn on the gravel and make their way out of the street. 

Polly and I sit in silence, drinking for a little bit longer, until everything catches up with me. The whiskey, the sleeplessness, the bomb that was just dropped. 

Without saying much, Polly and I hug goodbye. She holds on a little longer than usual, and before we depart she gives me a knowing smile. 

I know what she’s thinking. I know she can tell something happened between Michael and I.

But I can’t let my brain run off with the possibilities. I don’t know what is going to happen between us. 

Even with Gina now possibly out of the picture, there’s a lot that has gone on between Michael and I. I still carry the pain, nursing it in my arms every day since he left for America, and came back with another woman. I don’t know what he could ever say to fix that.

And then there’s the possibility that he stays with her, despite the news. Which might just send me over the edge. Truly into a place of no return.

I wander the streets in the short walk back to my apartment, where I pour myself another drink when I arrive. 

I don’t know why, but I sit by the window. Waiting, I guess. Hoping that he might show up. Maybe even part of me is hoping that he doesn’t. But still, I can’t pull myself away. 

I have so many errands, so many jobs to do. But I can’t move on. I spend the rest of the day worrying about him. Picturing him at the hospital, sitting by Gina’s bedside. Supporting her on what might be the worst day of this life thus far. I picture his face when he found out she was pregnant. The horror and fear that he was trying to disguise. 

He didn’t have the glow of someone who just found out their wife is having a baby. 

By the time night falls, and dusk gives way, I have bitten my nails down to the quick without even noticing. 

Feeling horrid and heavy with anxiety, I decide to drag my sleep deprived body into the shower. It’s a peaceful moment, and I start to feel like I could finally settle into bed when someone knocks at my door as I’m getting changed into my night gown.

I catch myself in the mirror for a moment, willing myself to be strong, because I already know who it is standing at my door without even having to open it. 

As I make my way to my visitor, I run over 100 speeches that I have planned in my head. But once I grab that handle and pull it open, the chatter in my head falls silent. 

Michael Grey. 

He stands in the door way, a look of relief washing over his face as though he didn’t think I would actually answer him. 

Of course I would. 

He opens his mouth to speak, inhaling deeply, but the words never follow. With this much history between two people, it’s impossible to know where to begin.

He looks like he’s been to hell and back. 

“Sorry” he stammers, snapping himself out of his trance “Your door was unlocked, but I didn’t want to just walk in-”

“It’s always been unlocked” I breathe, knowing that I’ve kept a lot of parts of me unlocked, incase there was a moment where Michael Grey decided to wander back in. Just like he has right now. 

He nods, understanding what I meant immediately.

“Can I come in?” He begins “I can go if you want, I just…”

He looks so small in this moment. He’s the most timid and sheepish I have ever seen him.

“Of course” I nod, stepping aside to let him in.

We move about my apartment in silence, as we both take a seat at my dining table. When he does, he places his elbows on the table and rests his head in his hands. 

Without even needing to ask, I pour us both a drink.

“I figured if I need one of these you probably do too”

I looks up at me gratefully as I place the glass in front of him and he takes a swig. 

“How is she?” I ask, nervous to actually address the situation at hand. But I know there’s no way around it. We’re not going to talk about the fucking weather. 

“They’re uh, they’re going to keep her overnight until she’s got her hydration back”

There’s silence for a moment before he continues, and he looks as if he’s not able to believe what he’s about to say.  

“Then she’s going home”

My heart jumps and skips over a few beats, making me feel unsteady as I realise what he just said.

Gina is leaving. 

“We’re done” he says, and I suddenly take note of the fact that he’s not wearing his wedding ring. 

“Michael I’m sorry-” I begin, but falter when it comes to finishing my sentence.

I am sorry. But the truth is that I’m fucking relieved. Relieved for Michael. Relieved for myself. Relieved that I don’t have to watch him raise a child with someone else right in front of my eyes when it was supposed to be me. 

“It’s okay” he nods “Her and I we weren’t… I didn’t love her Izzy” 

I knew this whole time. I want to scream it from the rooftops. I want to scream it at him. I want to ask what possessed him to act that way for so long. 

I want to ask him who he loves. I want to ask him if it’s still me. 

“It still hurts though” I say instead, trying to keep my wits about me. And that is the truth. He is still in pain. 

“Yeah well I had that coming didn’t I” he almost laughs to himself, shaking his head. 

He looks up at me, bearing himself. He knows what he did was wrong. And he knows as far as karma goes, he was now getting his. 

“I’ve done so many things wrong… Everything got so out of control Iz” I notice his knee is bouncing rapidly beneath the table. 

I hold my breath, so much so that I begin to feel light headed and my chest begins to burn.

“We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to” he says once he notices my speechlessness, “I just owe you an explanation. I owe you that much” 

I nod, giving him the go ahead. The green light of redemption. 

We’re on the edge of the moment. The moment I’ve been waiting for for months. 

“You know I don’t even know why you let me in, you’re always so kind, so good. Too fucking good. After everything” 

His chest rises and falls beneath his shirt and vest, growing faster with every second as he gets himself more and more worked up over the train wreck of his life. 

“You know I can’t get the look on your face out of my head, from the day that you saw me and Gina. The day I came back and told you to leave me alone. It fucking haunts me Izzy. Because I didn’t want it. But when you’re in too deep…” He shakes his head, as his words just keep pouring out frantically “I thought it was the only way… the only way to deal with what I had done. I couldn’t even look at Gina. I couldn’t even touch her. So I thought if I forgot about you, that I could move on”

“Did you?” Are the only words I can utter, as the lump in my throat swells, almost cutting off my voice completely. 

“Never. Fucking never” 

I had built this moment up in my head for so long. 

What I would say to him. 

How I would teach him a lesson. 

How I would show him what he had done to me. 

That he can’t get away with doing that to a person.

I had rehearsed how I would make him get on his knees and beg for my forgiveness.

Make him explain himself until he was blue in the face.

Until I was satisfied. 

I wait for that feeling to come, the rage, but it never does.

Instead, I stay silent as he takes a deep breath to steady himself. His eyes are welling up, threatening to spill over as he continues to explain.

“I lost my way over there. I was losing my fucking mind without you. I got drunk, Gina was forceful. One thing led to another and I woke up next to her one morning. Then I couldn’t get rid of her. I was doing business with her family, and it’s like she saw something she wanted and would stop at nothing to get it. That’s when I stopped contact with you… I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you. To face what I had done”

The first tear falls onto his freckled cheeks, but he wipes it quickly. 

“I was going to cut her off before I came back home, but she threatened that she would cut off the deal between Shelby Limited and her Uncles if I left her. She threatened fucking horrible things to the people I loved Izzy, you have no idea” His voice is panicked as he recalls every last detail, and I can see the flashbacks taking their toll on him. 

“Her family and her people, they’re something we’ve never dealt with before…She begged me to let her come with me. I was in way over my fucking head. And so I had to pretend. I didn’t want her to sink her claws into you too. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I didn’t want you involved. So I had to pretend like I fucking hated you when all I wanted was to come crawling home to you”

By now, one tear had led to another, and he was no longer wiping them away. His eyes red, his cheeks drowning. 

Unable to keep swallowing the lump in my own throat, I abandon all control over my own emotions, and my own eyes spill over with tears. 

“You could have told me” my voice scrapes out of my throat “You could have told me what was happening”

He shakes his head “I wanted to protect you, and I had to break you in order to do that. And I’m so fucking sorry” 

The feeling comes again, where I’m certain I should be screaming at him right now. Cursing him for everything he put me through. 

But I can’t. After all this time, after everything. I just can’t. 

I still love him. 

My small, shaking hand glides across the top of the dining table, and lays gently over the top of his. 

Of course it did. We’re like magnets, him and I. We’ve never been able to keep away from each other. 

My touch has an immediate effect on him, as his breathing begins to calm.

But in an unexpected turn, he holds my hand and brings it up to his lips. His eyes close as he places a kiss on the back of my hand, and then another one on the soft, sensitive skin of my inner wrist. 

This is something we used to do all the time, and right now, it’s like he doesn’t realise what he’s doing. Muscle memory takes over. 

“You’re fucking stupid Michael Grey” I sniffle “I should hate you. I should fucking hate you” 

“Do you?” He asks, still holding onto my hand like it’s his only lifeline. 

I stare back at him for a moment, before I feel my head start to shake in response.

“Never” 

I feel a pull on my arm, as I realise he’s pulling my closer to him. 

And I don’t resist. 

Our bodies creep closer, slowly then all at once as we collide. His arms wrap around me fiercely, engulfing me. My arms wrap around his torso, and I make no mistakes about holding him tight. 

It’s almost crushing, suffocating, the way we are clinging onto one another. 

I can’t breathe, or cry, or laugh. I can’t move. And I don’t want to. 

His hand holds the back of my head, and I bury it into the crook of his neck. 

“I’m so sorry” he apologises, his voice muffled as his face presses into my skin “I’m so fucking sorry” 

I could have stayed like that forever, but he pulls back holding my face in his hands as he looks down at me.

“I love you” he begins, his breath tickling my face “I don’t know if that’s okay with you, but I still love you. Izzy. I never stopped” 

I look up at him, our breaths slowing and steadying, until we’re breathing in synchronicity. 

“I still love you the same as the day I met you” I shake my head, but I can feel the smallest of smiles begin to creep onto my lips “I love you Michael” 

“Yeah?” He asks one more time, as if he doesn’t believe it yet. 

“Yes, you fucking idiot” I exhale a laugh, unable to stop the smile now “I love you”

He beams back down at me, his head lowering until his lips meet mine. 

He’s slow, this time. Unsure. Gentle. As if this moment might fall away and escape him if he makes one wrong move. 

But I can’t hold back any longer. 

I kiss him back, pressing my body even harder against his, which I hadn’t thought was possible. 

I expect a ravenous kiss to follow, for clothes to start falling off our bodies and to gravitate our way towards my bedroom.

But after he returns a tender kiss, he pulls away. 

“Wait” he breathes

“You okay?” I pant, biting down on my lip. 

“Can we wait…” he whispers nervously “I don’t want you to think this is all I want. I just want to talk to you. Stay up all night talking like we used to. God I missed you so much”

My chest warms up, as I realise he really means it. That he doesn’t want me to get the wrong impression. That he missed my body, but more than that, he missed me. 

“Of course” I coo “I would like that” 

He presses his lips to mine one last time, then plants a few soft kisses across my nose and cheeks. Just like he used to. 

We lead each other to the bedroom, and flop down next to each other, taking in the days events. And how the hell we ended up here. 

It doesn’t take long for the conversation to start, as we turn to face each other. 

He caresses my face the whole time, stroking my cheek with his thumb gently. 

It’s all so familiar, and right now in our little bubble, it’s like no time has passed between us at all. Like no hearts were ever broken. 

We talk for hours, neither of us ever feeling tired for a moment. We laugh, getting carried away and wrapped up in each others. Sometimes we cry. He apologises more times than I can keep count. We hold each other. Sometimes I want to ask him to pinch me, to make sure I’m not still concussed from earlier in the week and imagining all of this. That I’m not going to wake up and realise it wasn’t real. That he won’t be taken away from me again. 

We talk about how things used to be.

We talk about the future.

Eventually at some point in the early hours of the morning, once our voices are tired and we can’t keep our eyes open any longer, we fall asleep. 

When I wake, I’m alone, but next to me I can see the indent of where Michael had been next to me the night before.

My heart starts to race as I become more aware.

He’s left. He’s gone again. 

I’m almost carried away into a full panic attack, when something snaps me out of it. The sound of the radio coming from somewhere in the house.

Wondering if someone is here, or if I just left it on, I wrap myself in a robe and make my way into the heart of my apartment. 

And there he is. 

Fixing up breakfast, still in his clothes from the night before. Humming along to the radio. 

He doesn’t even realise I’m there for a few moments, and I’m glad I have some time to process this all to myself.

I had thought I’d never see this scene again. Maybe in my memories, but never in real life. 

Michael, in my kitchen, making us breakfast on a cold morning. 

My chest floods with warmth.

I didn’t realise how I felt like I had been holding my breath up until this moment, and how now I can finally exhale. 

“Morning” he greets me when I he catches me standing there out of the corner of his eye “Sorry, I just thought I’d make you some breakfast, or at least coffee” 

“Thank you” I smile, as I force myself to hurry up and adjust to the moment. 

“You still like your eggs the same?”

“Absolutely” I smile, endeared by him asking. 

He holds out a hand, and I take it, as he reels me in towards his body. 

“If this is too much just tell me” he says softly, checking in with where I’m at right now “Is this okay?” 

I can tell he’s still unsure. Unsure of whether I’m going to tell him to leave. To get out. That the mistakes are unforgivable and that we can never get it back. 

But the truth, that I can feel in my core, is that what we had never really left. 

I run a hand through his hair, and he closes his eyes briefly, taking in the sensation. 

“I think so” I nod, and he perks up, his eyes look hopeful and bright again “I thought you had left” I admit, revealing why I looked so startled just now.

“No chance” he shakes his head “I’m here. I’m yours”

And I believe him.

It’s a pivotal moment.

Standing on the edge and letting yourself jump. 

I know it will take time. And I know he will work every day to prove it to me. 

But I choose to trust him.

In whatever way that means right now.

I am his.

I always have been. And I always will.

TAGLIST

@shadow-of-wonder

@marvelismylifffe​ 

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@baker151910

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[sohelajmina-blog]

The 10 Best Mobile Bars in the UK for Hire, Prices, Bar Ideas https://www.poptop.uk.com/suppliers/catering/mobilebar/ Peaky Blinders-themed mobile bars for private parties, weddings and corporate events

[emmatgc]

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANNABELLE WALLIS

One of my favorite actresses in the whole wide world but most importantly, the actress who I believe has the best chemistry with Cillian Murphy and will always be the best couple on TV! My Grace, My Annabelle. I hope her and Cillian work together again.

[ana73maria]

Já é lindo e com esse olhar, assim eu não aguento, é pra me deixar de 4 mesmo... 💙💎

[periken-art]

In the bleak midwinter…

[cosmic-crybaby]

Blue Skies - Tommy Shelby

Chapter 14: ‘Fade Into You’

Warnings In This Chapter: fluff,fluff,fluff. Some angst at the end (I can’t help myself, sorry)

Masterlist:

---

Thomas Shelby rarely got a night off. 

Being a gangster came with the stress of the life they lived. Which also meant…

No time off. 

But when your kids were away you missed their feet padding around the house. Without the sound of them running about, taking the horses out on the field, and whole mess of the Shelby Company Limited the two of you finally had the chance to enjoy each other's company over some dinner. After a busy week at the bakery, you were happy that you got to be alone with the man you adored. Much to your dismay, running the bakery by yourself just got harder and harder as the weeks went by. Polly was right. 

Of course she was, she always was. 

Ever since the night of the dinner party, the family was more open to you stopping by to visit Thomas in the office or joining him to the pub. This, of course, meant you would often run into Lizzie Stark. You didn't say much than a small head nod of acknowledgment before you would enter Thomas' office. If only she knew. 

Thomas had a talk with you shortly after you had moved in, whether or not she should keep her position at the company. And being the forgiving and kind soul you were, you told him not to bother. 

'Let her stay, Thomas…Do not punish her for your mistakes…but if I find out she fucks up again, she is gone…no further questions,' You told him sternly. 

Plus Thomas knew better. 

He also knew better than to invite you to any and all family meetings. With the exception of one. You and Thomas had attended a dinner with the rest of the business, and when Arthur started talking to John, who talked to Ada, who then brought Polly into it. At one point you found yourself slipping deeper in the knowledge of the family business. Shortly after it started, only did you wish you had stepped out. The longer you stayed, the more you realized how often you were getting involved with helping Thomas make decisions, double checking the accounting books, and being around to hear the gruesome carnage they planned, the more you tried to push the lifestyle away. 

But you knew that was all inevitable. 

So instead, you focused on your time with Thomas. You had sat across from each other at the dining table, eating chicken and vegetables quietly as it was all you could manage without feeling sick to your stomach. 

“How was work?” You asked him, pushing the pieces of peas in a corner of your plate to eat the other, more desirable greens on your plate. Thomas takes a small sip of whiskey. 

“Work was…” He takes a heavy sigh. “Well, work was fuckin’ work,” He muttered, making an obvious stop to the conversation. His work-life was overwhelming, of course anyone would find stress in a business like that. He glanced up at you for a moment. He wasn’t partial in talking about work while eating, most of the time, so these answers were always anticipated. But you still managed to make sure to ask him anyways, show him you’re still interested in him and that you still care. 

He clears his throat before asking; “And you?” 

“Busy as always,” You nod once. You refrained from giving away the fact that you were working yourself to the bone. Thomas would have you homebound in an instant if that were the case. 

“You should look into hiring help, eh? We can get someone more than qualified…especially since you’re further along,” He arched a brow and motioned to your stomach. You chuckled dryly, putting a protective hand over the bump as your eyes shifted from your plate up to him. 

“Thank you, Sweetheart but I don’t need any help right now. I am more than capable of handling the work,” You smiled. 

“If I had anyone else behind that counter it would be like…” You paused. “Like an unwanted guest…It’s just tradition, love you know that all too well,” You shrug. He went quiet for a moment. You watched as he picked at the food on his plate. Sighing, you set your silverware down on the plate and stand up, pulling out the chair right beside him. 

“Look,” He set his silverware on the plate as you reached for his hand. 

“I know you are worried but I can handle this myself, I am not sayin’ I don’t appreciate your help, but all I want you to do is focus on the issue at hand…Stopping Luca Changretta, okay?” Your hands caressed his face as your thumbs brush over his cheek bones. His skin was warm as you glance at the freckles on his skin and the color regaining in his face. His eyes scan your face for a moment, a ghost of a smile causing the corner of his lips to turn up in the slightest. He reached his rough hands up to grab yours and bring them to intertwine with his. 

“(Y/n)…” He paused, swallowing quickly. He was at a loss for words. 

“Yes?” You peer through your long lashes. 

He stared at you. The way your eyes looked so big and bright, your skin was glowing. Your voice was like heaven to him. 

“Will you marry me?” The way his words casually flowed, as if he was having a perfectly normal conversation with you. Your eyes widened as your lips parted. Quickly leaning forwards to pull him into a hug. Your arms tightly wrapped around him as he gently kissed your temple and his hand rubbed your back. You held him close to you for a few silent moments, just trying to take in his proposal. You only let go and looked at him again when he whispered your name. Again you were at a loss for words as you looked up at him. 

“I…I’m not sure,” You whispered, slightly shaking your head. You took his silence as a que to continue. 

“I mean…If I say ‘yes’, God how can I say yes when we hardly know each other,” 

Thomas caressed your cheek with his hand, using his thumb to wipe the small tear from the corner of your eye before it could roll down your face. As if he told you that everything was going to be okay. 

“And how can I say ‘No’? I already love you so much,” Your voice cracked as you looked away, pressing your head to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat as it rapidly thumped against his chest. 

“I am apprehensive…that if I do agree to marry you I will never know if we actually got married out of necessity or out of love…If I decline then I’ll never know if I passed up the love of my life,” You spoke quietly, holding him tighter. After another moment of silence, just soaking everything in before he said: 

“I will never pressure you into giving me an answer…but know that I do love you, very very much and it would be an honor to marry you,” He said. 

“If you’ll have me?” He added at the end with a small smirk. You let go of him, your hands clasp around his own as they rested by your sides. 

“Yes…” You told him with a nod. 

“Was that a yes?” He asked with a smile. After you confirmed he pulled you into a kiss. 

“You thought I was gonna say no, eh?” You giggled. He exhaled in relief as he chuckled dryly. If he was being honest, he thought you were in fact going to say no. He pulls you into another deep kiss before reaching into his pocket to take out a small, velvet box. Opening it to reveal a ring. It had an oval ruby in the middle that laid on a golden floral bouquet design with small diamonds embedded, decorating the band. 

You gasped at its beauty. Sniffling as he slipped the ring on your finger.

It was a perfect fit. 

A few days later, you had stopped at the doctor's office for another check-up. With a clear head after learning your baby was perfectly healthy, you went home. You had gotten home a little later than usual but even at this time Thomas would usually be home by now, yet he was nowhere to be seen. You had waited up for hours, only to end the night eating dinner and going to bed disappointed. You were not aware what time it was when you stirred awake when you felt the mattress dip from his weight. He was exhausted and beyond aggravated as he let out a relaxed sigh after finally getting some kind of rest. He felt guilty for having drinks in his office rather than coming home sooner, unfortunately that’s expected when you live like a Shelby. 

Thomas had to have been in deep sleep by the time you fully woke up in the middle of the night. Groaning as you rest a hand on your stomach to sooth the frequent late-night kicking. With his back turned to you, his slow breathing was a clear indication that he was fast asleep. You attempt to press your body against his, cuddling close to him. Craving that much-needed comfort from him. The second he felt your hand on his bare shoulder he pushed himself away. 

Flinching your hand back, offended and confused, you sat yourself up. Hair a mess and eyes still dry and heavy with sleep. He grumbles groggily as you rubbed his arm with your hand. Testing to see if it was a genuine or involuntary reaction. 

“Thomas…” You whispered. “What’s wrong?”  

“I’m fuckin’ tired,” He mumbled, still facing away from you. You laid back down, making yourself comfortable again by propping all of the pillows around your stomach and between the two of you, giving him space as you laid awake staring into the back of his head. 

“Do you…do you not find me attractive anymore?” You asked him. 

You heard him let out a forced, heavy sigh before he shifted. 

“I am very attracted to you but I need to sleep,” He mumbled again. “Please do not trouble yourself with this, not again,” 

Rolling your eyes you laid on your back. 

“I’m not it’s just…just painful for me that you refuse to touch me,” You whispered, the hurt evident in your tone. If he was looking at you, if he had taken a moment to just look at your face…your eyes, he would know just how hurt you actually were. 

But instead all he said was: 

“I’m sorry that’s painful for you,” 

You fully turned to your side, your back facing him as well as you bit your lip as it trembled.

---

Tag List:

Read Pinned Post If You Would Like To Be Added

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[captivatedbycillianmurphy]

How is he so beautiful?

🥺

[scxrecrowz]

hi

[shelbystales]

Story Time - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Word count: 1672

Summary: After a few days being absent in his familly, Tommy arrives late, once again. But to his surprise you and his son are still awake.

Warning: fluff, fluff and more fluff?

A/N: I could EASILY have turned this into a long SMUT, but hey... all my one shots are smut 😂. But if you guys want i can write a part 2.

Oh and please dont forget to comment and interact, tell me what you think! it means a looot to me.

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Thomas Shelby trudged wearily through the dimly lit streets of Birmingham, his mind still reeling from the day's events. It had been a long and exhausting day, negotiating business deals, and handling the never-ending challenges that came with running the Peaky Blinders. 

The Peaky Blinders' operations had been especially intense lately, and the weight of responsibility rested heavily on his shoulders. All he wanted now was a moment of peace and a good glass of whisky.

As he finally reached his home, a beautiful Victorian house tucked away in a quiet corner of Small Heath, bought especially for you, he let out a sigh of relief.

The familiar sight of his residence offered a small respite from the chaos of the outside world. He pushed open the creaky front door, the familiar scent of his home enveloping him as he stepped inside.

The living room was dimly lit, the fire crackling in the hearth casting a warm glow over the room. Thomas made his way to the worn-out leather couch and sank into it with a grateful sigh. 

With a heavy sigh, he poured himself a glass of his favorite drink and took a sip, relishing the familiar burn that washed over him. The warmth of the alcohol began to soothe his frayed nerves, and he allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation.

As he closed his eyes, the sounds of his home enveloped him—the crackling of the fireplace, the ticking of the clock, and the distant creaking of the floorboards. But amidst the background noise, he heard something that brought a small smile to his face, a soft chuckle, unmistakably belonging to his son, Charles.

It was such a joyful and carefree sound that he hadn't heard in a while. He furrowed his brows, wondering why Charlie would be awake at this hour. 

Curiosity getting the better of him, Thomas set down his glass and followed the sound. He made his way through the hallway and stopped outside his son's bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and the flickering light from the hallway revealed a heartwarming scene.

There, on the bed tucked under the covers, was his son Charlie, just three years old, and you, his mother, playing with him. Charlie was giggling uncontrollably as you tickled him, a smile on your face that lit up the room. 

Thomas felt a softness in his heart, a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to feel amidst the harsh realities of his world.

"Well, look who it is," you said with a playful grin, noticing Thomas at the door. "Come join the fun, Tommy."

Thomas hesitated for a moment, his mind still clouded with the weight of his responsibilities. 

But something about the sight of you and his son together drew him in. He stepped into the room, his eyes locked on the scene before him.

He approached you with his usual confidence, but as he got closer, he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. 

You looked up, your eyes meeting his in a moment of unspoken understanding. It was as if you could see the pain and darkness that lay hidden behind his steely exterior.

"Seems like I've walked into a tickle battle. Why are you still awake little one?" he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Aye, you have" you replied, giving him a knowing smile. "Charlie was missing his dad, weren't ya, love?"

The little boy nodded enthusiastically, his eyes shining with adoration as he looked up at his father.

Thomas moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the weariness in his bones momentarily forgotten. He reached out to ruffle Charlie's hair, earning another delighted giggle from the boy.

"I'm sorry, I've been busy all these days" Thomas said, his voice softened by genuine regret. "No need to apologize, Tommy," you said, laying a hand on his. "We know how much you have on your plate."

He sighed, his eyes never leaving the two of you. "It's not an excuse, though. Family should always come first."

"You're right," you said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. "And you're here now. You can help me put this one to sleep"

“I don’t want to sleep. I want to play with da!” Charlie cried, the crying giving away the little one's tiredness

“How about we play tomorrow, hm?” Tommy asked

“You won’t be here tomorrow,” Charlie spoke in a weeping voice.

You just sat there, with Charlie in your arms. Just watching.

Charlie just missed his dad, but Tommy was needed out there. You could see the pain in Tommy’s eyes, to be an absent parent was not in his plans. 

“How about I tell you a story?” Tommy asked “and tomorrow I can take you and your mom out, maybe we can go to that park you like, ey?” 

Charlie got agitated in your arms, happy with his dad's promise. But you feared he wouldn’t keep it, again. Making you go silent. 

Charlie got out from under the covers and crawled into his father's arms, who received him with a strong hug.

Thomas found himself immersed in the simple joy of being you both, a rare respite from the constant struggles of his life.

“Okay, now lie down" Tommy ordered, pulling the blanket back for Charlie to get inside.

"Lie down here too daddy" charlie called him

Impossible to resist his son’s request, Tommy kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers, Charlie between the two of you.

"What book are you going to read?" charlie asked

"No books. the story is here" Tommy pointed to his head making Charlie smile “Once upon a time, in the green hills of Birmingham, there lived a magnificent horse named Midnight."

"Like cocoa?" Charlie asked, refering to the brown horse Tommy had bought. Cocoa wasn't his race name, but the one Charlie chose for him.

"No, this was no ordinary horse, my boy. Midnight had a coat as black as the night sky, if you looked close by, you could even se the stars. He was magical and he could run faster than the wind…” Tommy went on telling the story. 

As Thomas spun his tale, the room seemed to come alive with his words. He painted vivid pictures of the horse's daring escapades and heroic deeds, capturing his son's imagination with each passing moment.

You watched the scene unfold, your heart swelling with love for the two most important people in your life.

You marveled at how effortlessly Thomas could transport your son to another world with his storytelling, and you couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of admiration for her husband.

As the story reached its end Charlies's eyelids began to droop, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. 

Thomas leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to his son's forehead and you gently tucked the covers snugly around him.

Once Charlie was fast asleep, you and Thomas went back to the living room. The fire had died down, so you gave it life again, with a few woods and a single match. 

Thomas poured another glass of whisky, and you sat beside him on the couch, streching your legs across his lap.

"I never thought I could have this," Thomas admitted quietly, his gaze fixed on the dancing flames. "A family, a home... it was never part of the plan."

"But here we are," you said, taking his hand in yours. "Life has a way of surprising us, doesn't it?"

"Aye, it does," he murmured, his fingers entwining with yours. "And I wouldn't trade this for anything." he pulled your face gently for a kiss

"Where this is coming from? all this declaration of love for us?" you chuckled lightly "had a hard day?" you asked and he nodded

“Yes" He sighed "you were silent back there” tommy pointed out

“Well, good you noticed. I don't want you promising Charles things you can’t do,” you admitted. “We both know how it’s with you. You can’t stay away from work”

“I have a lot of work to get done, y/n” he said almost in a whisper

“I know. Just, please don’t lie to him. You’re his hero” you asked

“I never plan to” he sighed

“So you're taking him to the park tomorrow?” you asked and he nodded “good. you better, I can’t stand to look at the disappointment at his face again”

“What do you mean again?” he asked frowning

“Oh, come on Tommy. ‘i’ll be home dinner’, ‘i’ll pick you up at school’, ‘i”ll do this or i’ll do that’. you may not remember tiny promises, but he does. Everynight he asks if you are coming home before he sleeps” 

“every night?” he asked, sounding defeated

“Yeah, and even though i know the truth i say ‘i don’t know, maybe’” 

he went silent

You could see the guilt wash over Tommy's face, and you knew he was grappling with his own emotions. You didn't want to add to his burden, but you also couldn't bear to see Charles disappointed again.

"Tommy, I understand that you have a lot on your plate, i promise i do," you said gently, "but you need to make time for Charles. He's growing up so fast, and he needs his father in his life."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I can't promise to be there all the time. It's not easy, y/n. You know what I do, what I'm involved in."

"I do know, Tommy," you replied softly. "And I know that your work is important, but so is your family. Charles needs you, and so do I. I also miss you. You come home after i am already sleeping and you leave before the sun comes out. I am getting abit tired of this loneliness"

Thomas took a deep breath, his gaze locked with yours. He could see the concern and love in your eyes, and it weighed heavily on his heart. He reached out to cup your cheek tenderly, his thumb caressing your skin.

"I'm sorry, love," he said sincerely "I can't promise you miracles, but i'll try to be home earlier".

You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hand on your cheek.

He gently kissed you. His lips slowly savoring yours. Tongue gently invading your mouth and sliding on your lips. 

“I love you y/n” He said resting his forehead on yours

“I love you too tommy” you smiled 

“Let me take care of you now, eh?” he smirked pushing you down to lay on the couch. 

“Yes please!” you said smiling in anticipation, making him chuckle as he lifted your nighgown.

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[writewithmiaaa]

Who/what I write for:🎀

Hey guys! So here is an (updated) list of who I take requests for, I hope you enjoy💗 I also have a list of tropes I accept/don’t accept HERE!

PLEASE NOTE!!!!: I only write male characters romantically, as I am straight. But I will write for all women platonically💗

Peaky Blinders: John, Arthur, Tommy, Finn, Alfie (plus all women platonically)

COD: WW2: Pearson, Zussman, Turner

Cold War: Adler

MW2: all 141+ Alejandro

Marvel: Most male avengers + quick-silver, (plus all women platonically)

TLOU: Joel, Ellie (platonic, SHES A MINOR!!!)

Bale’s Batman trilogy: Bane, Scarecrow

The hunger games: Finnick Odair, Cato, (plus women platonically)

The maze runner: Newt, Thomas, Gally, (all women platonically)

Twilight: Jasper, Alice (platon), Carlisle & Esme, Rosalie (platon)

Horror films: Billy, stu, Ed and Lorraine, 99% of AHS characters (and women platonically)

Footballers: Declan rice, Jarrod Bowen, Neymar, Jude Bellingham, Paqueta

Boxing/UFC: McGregor, Costa, Pantoga, Paddy

[anarchyyone]

Cillian Murphy glow up.

HE IS GLOWING