#tommy shelby headcanons

[runnning-outof-time]

I’m (Not) Alright with a Slow Burn | Tommy Shelby x Reader headcanons

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader (headcanons)

Summary: How Tommy would go about being stuck in a slow burn with someone he's falling for.

Warnings: mention of death of grandmother, slight season 2 spoilers

Word Count: 2537

A/N: I really enjoyed this request! umm…I’m not sure if these are 100% written like headcanons - I wrote them like I was spewing out ideas lol. Kacey Musgraves’s song Slow Burn was also running through my head while I was writing this, hence the title. Also how the hell do you actually spell headcanons?? Is there 1 ‘n’ or 2?? Lol . Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you want to be tagged!

• (Y/N) was one of the few Shelby Company Ltd. employees that Tommy didn't hire. She was brought on board while he and the boys were off at one of the races. Polly saw the potential in her and immediately welcomed her into the company.

• when Tommy returned from said races, he was pleasantly surprised to meet her.

• and Polly clocked that immediately. She was able to tell by the lack of a fight - Tommy was always able to find something to pick at when she made decisions within the company, no matter how minuscule. But there was nothing to pick at with (Y/N).

• Polly also wasn't surprised to see (Y/N) completing more and more tasks that came directly from Tommy. They'd be tasks that Polly hadn't even known about...but for some reason Tommy trusted (Y/N) with them.

• (Y/N) didn't think anything different about it. She'd been hired into the company and one of her bosses was asking her to do things. That's what was supposed to happen, right?

• although she did find it odd that it was Tommy asking her to do these things when she'd originally been hired to help Polly with sorting out the books and the like.

• things persisted like that for a few months. (Y/N) would happily and eagerly help him with whatever he needed to have done around the company. He'd look out for her, making sure that she was happy in her position and just in general. And in return, (Y/N) would (try) to keep up the same for him. She'd show that in the smallest of ways and attempts, but he would notice. Over those few months and because of those small acts, Tommy's thoughts and feelings towards (Y/N) evolved.

• he can still remember the day when that switch began - because it haunted him every day after.

• she came into his office like it was any other day for her...but it wasn't any other day for Tommy.

• he'd been working under Campbell for a few weeks at that point, and it'd become apparent that he'd be dead at the end of the arrangement. Tommy wasn't afraid to die, but the thought of getting everything in order and making sure his family could go on without him was now plaguing his mind.

• so when (Y/N) asked him what he had for her to do today, Tommy rattled off his list without as much as looking up at her. He was fully expecting her to turn and exit the second he finished speaking.

• she didn't. Silence reigned for a moment or two before "are you ok, Tommy?" came quietly from her. This made Tommy look up, and when he did, all of the noise in his mind ceased. Sure he looked at her before - he'd looked up like this thousands of times, but he never saw her like he did when he looked up this time. It was this otherworldly experience that he'd only been through twice before. Which meant he knew exactly what was happening.

• even though he brushed her question off and told her that he was fine, he hoped that things wouldn't change between them.

• and thankfully they didn't because hell, Tommy Shelby was certain that he was falling in love.

• he began testing the waters carefully at first. (Y/N) was a good woman and he wasn't about to make her leave the company due to his actions. He couldn't stand to lose her.

• so he started by making sure she was being heard; by actually listening to her whenever she'd share ideas or tell him how things played out with what he'd asked her to do.

• then he emphasized making sure that she was safe - having blinders on her block, sticking around on the days where she and Polly would be in the shop tallying the winnings, and also personally offering to take her wherever she needed to go.

• (Y/N) reacted bashfully to these offers. She felt that the other company employees would think that she was getting special treatment or something — well...she kind of was...but she deeply appreciated Tommy doing these things.

• in regards to feelings, Tommy was putting his out there as best as he could (which, well I'll let you be the one to decide on how well that is) He really tried to make a more personal connection with her; to get to know her as her and not just another employee...and in turn he let her know him.

• (Y/N) stayed professional. He was one of her bosses after all. But she couldn't deny that she enjoyed being in his presence. Her friends found that crazy, too...how can she be happy to be spending time with Tommy Shelby? She swore it off as strictly work related until she couldn't anymore.

• the evening started like any other...(Y/N) went home after work with the intention of doing what she did every other evening. But something was waiting for her at home. Something that turned her world upside-down. She found out that her grandmother had passed away. The post had come and one of the letters was from a sibling of hers, sharing the news. She didn't know what to do.

• after exhausting all of her options, she found herself at the Garrison. Tommy had invited her there in the past, but she never accepted it due to wanting to stay professional.

• she asked around for him and the second she found out that he was in the snug, she made her way to it and opened the door. He was in there, but so were his brothers. "This was the last place I could think of," she blurted out. "Everyone out," was all Tommy needed to say before it was just the two of them in the room.

• (Y/N) quickly sat and let everything out. Tommy listened intently, something no one had ever done for her in the past. They sat in the snug for hours, (Y/N) talking and Tommy listening. Her ability to share her grandmother's story helped her immensely.

• from that evening, (Y/N) saw Tommy in a different light. The fact that he sat and listened to her as she lamented to him and not once did he even think of leaving meant the world to her. No one had shown her that sort of worthiness or attention.

• all at once it felt like she was head over heels for him. Like all of those little instances he'd shown her before had all culminated into this one, major display of devotion. It had her realizing that maybe it wasn't solely because she was his employee...maybe it was much more than that.

• and so when he went out of his way and made sure to check on her the next morning - she knew this because Polly commented on the fact that he was supposed to be in London by sun-up - and he couldn't get him off of her mind no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't beat around the bush anymore...she'd fallen for Tommy Shelby, hard.

• but things didn't hit off right from that moment.

• no, it took a rather long time for those feelings to actually come out.

• there was a lot of dancing around the other - the smaller gestures and moments still occurred, but neither one was willing to make that jump over the edge and confront the other about it.

• yes, you read that right...Tommy Shelby was actually keeping his feelings for her close to the chest.

• mostly it was because of the position they were in. He'd offer to take her to dinner and she'd politely decline (even though she really wanted to go) because she was worried the other company employees would suspect something.

• Tommy wasn't exactly into the dancing around it (he hated it at times actually), but he honored her choice.

• but that doesn't mean he wasn't taking every chance he got to spend time around her. To check in on her and see how things were. To walk her home if she stayed later. Anything to show her that he was serious...without actually saying that he was serious.

• he was hooked on her though, there was no doubt about it. All he needed was for her to really show that interest back to him, and then he'd know for sure that he could act on it.

• and then Polly's birthday came.

• the company/family decided to host a party at the Garrison. Of course (Y/N) was invited.

• a man named Louis was one of the men who worked the shop floor daily. He saw (Y/N) almost every day that she was also on the floor, and he made it a point to seek her out as well.

• much like with Tommy, (Y/N) kept things between her and Louis strictly professional.

• but this party is when Louis decided that he was going to make his move...to try and woo her.

• maybe he should have thought this through...

• (Y/N) was sitting at one of the tables, chatting with some of the other women who worked within the company. It was a surprise that she wasn't with Tommy, considering he sought her out almost immediately after she arrived. But Tommy was still present though.

• Louis had this plan to put everything right on the table. He smoothly walked over to her and, equally as smoothly, slipped into the booth that she was sitting in. (Y/N) was polite, but it was obvious that she wasn't feeding any more into it than a simple, friendly conversation.

• but of course Tommy didn't pick up on that. From where he was standing it looked like Louis was a little too close to her for comfort. So he quickly intervened.

• and he was anything but subtle with it. He was quickly able to make Louis feel uneasy and clear him out.

• (Y/N)'s confused, but happy to have the man she'd hardly talked to gone. She sends Tommy an appreciative smile and that's just about enough to bring Tommy to his knees. But that doesn't happen...instead he gives her one of his signature, lop-sided smiles and nods at the ladies sitting with her before going back to where he previously was.

• this interaction didn't go unnoticed though. Polly and Ada were watching from off to the side. These two know Tommy better than anyone, and they've rarely seen him react this quickly and in this sort of way. So it's glaringly apparent to them that something's going on here.

• and this becomes increasingly apparent as time goes on.

• also as time goes on, (Y/N) manages to move up in the company. She's basically right underneath Polly in terms of power, becoming her 'right hand man’ in the treasurer position.

• having this position means that she's more involved in the inner circle and is at all of the meetings.

• the entire family swears by the fact that Tommy is softer with her than he is with anyone else.

• you can literally see the change the second she shares her thoughts on a matter or even enters a room. The switch is practically on a dime.

• but these two keep dancing around each other - they've been doing it for close to a year at this point.

• and those who know of it are baffled. They are obviously in love with each other...why hasn't one budged and made things official?

• the suspicions on this topic all come to a climax on the first year anniversary of (Y/N) joining the company.

• Tommy invites her out to dinner. (Y/N) agrees this time mostly because she knows what day it is...and she knows that the Shelbys like to celebrate such things.

• but she's surprised when she arrives at the upscale restaurant and is escorted to a table for two. Tommy can't help but smile at the face she pulls when she sees that he's sitting there, waiting for her.

• but she gets comfortable very quickly. It's Tommy we're talking about here...she's never been more comfortable with anyone in her life if she was being honest. And the same goes for him too.

• the dinner lasts hours. They talk about everything and anything. Work's off the table, but yet they still manage to not have more than a moment of silence. Both are surprised at how freely the conversation flows.

• eventually Tommy brings up the subject they've been dancing around.

• he lays everything out on the table this time. There's no sense in holding back. He tells her how she makes him feel, how she's made him feel from the moment he first saw her.

• he also mentions the fact that he's felt this way for a while now, and that he can't continue dancing around it any longer. He honored her desire to stay professional for this time, but he wants her too much, loves her too much to keep going like this for even a day longer.

• at first (Y/N)'s shocked. She's not oblivious...she'd been catching the little hints that he'd been leaving all this time, but she was truthfully too hesitant to ever bring the subject up to him.

• but now that he's put it out there, she figures why should she hold back her feelings any longer?

• so she lays it all out for him as well. Tells him how she feels about him, how she's felt about him for some time now.

• Tommy can't contain his happiness as he hears this. He's grinning like a fool.

• so really there's only one last thing for them to do now...make it official.

• Tommy wastes no time in doing that.

• he asks her properly though. That's what she deserves, especially after all this time that's been invested.

• he stops them just down the road from where she lives. He tells her that he really likes her (he won't use the 'l word' just yet - even though the two of them are so clearly in love) and that he can't wait a moment longer to make her his.

• (Y/N) quickly agrees with the sentiment after everything that had been shared during their dinner.

• Tommy can't help but smile at her response, and he just barely nods his head in his Tommy fashion before continuing to walk her home.

• they share their first kiss at the front door, and it's absolutely magical.

• they then proceed to do a terrible job of hiding it while at work. Tommy's waited this long to be with her, he's not going hide his affection for her any longer.

• their definition of 'in secret' is soooo far from the actual definition. They think that they're being sneaky, only stealing kisses in empty hallways and in Tommy's office, but it takes Polly literally only two days to catch onto it.

• no ones upset with it though. Honestly everyone’s happy that they’re finally together.

• well everyone except Louis…Louis is a little bummed about the whole thing. But Tommy and (Y/N) don’t care about that in the slightest.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[calummss]

Do You Get Déjà Vu | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: thomas doesn’t come to pick up his daughter. you decide to take her home only to find a man of a table with a bullet in his chest and a lot of deja vu

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 1.6k

a/n: just fluff and comedy tbh… not my usual angst i promise also, this takes place in 1919 because season 1 tommy has my heart. helena is around 9/10 years :)

How you disliked summer. Sweat pearls dripping simply sitting and breathing. Delicate fabric sticking to you like a bee and its honey. It was simply too hot for a woman to be wearing layers of modest clothing but here you were, sitting in front of your desk; no countertop in sight, too many different documents sprawled across the surface, each waiting on your eyes and conscious to scan it and then evaluate whatever category it fell into.

‘Miss Verys?’ Katie’s voice pulled you out of your slump, yet your heart skipped a beat when you saw her come closer with an arm full of newer papers that acquired your attention.

‘Please tell me you are joking…’

‘I fear not, Miss,’ she pressed her lips together as she placed them onto the right corner, the surface area with less than ten documents. ‘But these are all for the week.’ She smiled.

‘Finally some good fucking news,’ you huffed, ‘Sorry,’ you tilted your head when you realised Katie was taken aback by your choice of words.

‘Also I don’t wish to add more to your plate but Helena is still present. It seems Mr. Shelby has yet to pick her up. Do you want me to stay and wait with her?’

‘Katie you are truly an angel, really, I am so grateful but you are being paid to work on from eight to three, I couldn’t let you do that. Legally and from my heart.’ You curled your lips, fingers rubbing against the sheet of paper you were waiting to flip. ‘Just tell Helena to pack her things and to come to my office. Since I will be busy reading through all of these I might end up staying for quite a while.’

‘Of course. And thank you, Miss Verys, have a good day.’

‘You too.’

Katie left and you were stuck in front of an ocean of paper. If you had known that directing a school was so strenuous you might’ve thought about inaugurating a school twice. But it was a lovely institute. A school for girls with the most brightest and innovative minds, no runner up to men but competition with finest ideas.

Momentarily Helena came through the door and patiently stood at the door frame, her bag in her grip.

‘Hello Helena,’ you smiled at her. ‘Your father is not here yet?’

‘No.’

‘That’s okay, just wait here with me. I have much work and since we’re the only ones here I thought company would be nice, no? Sit,’ you pointed to the chair, Helena still standing at the entrance barely having moved.

Helena hummed in response.

‘So,’ you grabbed one of your quills to start signing documents that needed your signature. ‘What do you like to do when you’re not at school or doing homework? I am pretty sure you like horse riding?’

‘I do.’

‘Something else perhaps?’

‘Recently we bought a family car,’ Helena had sat down in the chair, laying her bag beside her as she relaxed into the seat. ‘When we got it we drove through the countryside…it was so thrilling. The wind on my face felt different to when I am riding. Daddy looked so happy too. I like cars.’

‘My my, what a riveting experience.’ You glanced at her from your work. ‘I remember my first time in a car. Felt exactly like how you described it.’

Helena beamed back you, her bright blue eyes gleaming with excitement, ‘My uncle Finn liked the car ride at first too but we had to stop because he got sick,’

‘And did you?’

‘No, I felt great. I love cars.’

‘I too think cars are the greatest innovation since the marvellous idea to roast and ferment cocoa beans to make chocolate.’ You let out a lighthearted laugh, infecting Helena with the same giggle.

‘I like chocolate.’

‘You do?’ Your lips curled. ‘Do you want one? I might have a bit stashed somewhere between all this energy-consuming work,’

‘I’ve only had it twice,’ Helena began another story, ‘It is very expensive and my father says it is bad for your teeth and that you mustn’t eat too much of it. He said that when he was visiting London he met a man outside of the sweet shop who became so round, simply for eating a lot of chocolate.’

‘Well best you have only one piece then,’ you put a piece into your mouth before giving her her piece. ‘This is my favourite. Got it from Cornwall. They make the best sweets.’

Taking the piece you handed her, she started eating it, her eyes in awe.

‘What about your father, Helena?’

‘What about him?’

‘What does he do for work?’ You asked, amusingly raising your eyebrows before taking the second heap of documents before you.

Helena hesitated. ‘I don’t think I can say.’

‘Why not?’

‘Family business…’

‘Family business?’ You looked up, Helena nodding her head in response. ‘I’m just curious that’s all. When you speak of him, you speak endearingly. You seem to have a very good relationship.’

‘We do.’ She ate the last bite, looking around the room. ‘If he wasn’t my father he would be my best friend.’

‘How sweet.’

With an easy lead conversation, time passed quicker than expected. But an hour later and Mr. Shelby still hadn’t come to pick up Helena.

With minutes passing you realised that Mr. Shelby wouldn’t show up anytime soon. It was also way past closing time so you had to start locking up the building. You thought it best to walk Helena home to see if anyone was there and if not you’d take her back to yours so she would have a safe place to stay until anyone got in touch.

‘Hello?’ You knocked against the door, the hard wooden door aching your knuckles as you repeatedly hit against it. ‘This is Miss Verys from Small Heath Institute for Girls. I have your daughter Helena with me as she has not been picked up yet.’ Your breath ricocheted off the door.

Seconds later you could hear the lock turning and were greeted by an older woman, her hair all over the place as her dark eyes burned into yours. Feeling as if she were about to take a jape at you, you quickly jumped back into your sentence. ‘I’m so sorry to intrude but I grew worried when Helena still hadn’t been picked up yet. I hope that all is well.’

Your eyes left her frame, seeing figures surrounding a table where there seemed to be a man laying down upon, quick huffs and puffs echoing from behind.

‘Arthur, shut up and just get this out of me.’

‘Drink this, Tommy. It’ll help with the pain.’

The unravelling scene before you had your full attention, completely forgetting the woman at the door.

‘I—oh no don’t do that!’ You raised your voice, pushing past her, now standing in the living room with three men staring at you. ‘I’m sorry to intrude but I was a nurse at the front and seeing you just stick your fingers inside his wound just rang my bells.’

The man on the table had blue eyes that protruded from the dim light within the room, his chest covered in dry and fresh blood, sweat dampening his skin and clothes. You overheard that his name was Thomas Shelby, Helena’s father.

You stepped closer and examined his wound. A bullet wound. Minimal surface damage and easily removed.

‘If someone could get me some bandages, an unopened bottle of alcohol and some tweezers with a bowl of warm water.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Helena walked past you to what seemed to be the kitchen.

‘The cheap one, Hallie,’ the light haired one yelled after her, his toothpick sitting between his lips. ‘If you open that rum from the Caribbean, I swear to you that I won’t give you any more sweets.’

‘You give her sweets?’ Thomas lifted his head.

‘Sometimes.’

‘Mr. Shelby if you could just relax for a short time longer. I will get that bullet out of you as swiftly as possible.’

Further taking in his naked chest you noticed his tattoo. Similar to sun rays just above his right chest. You had seen this tattoo before…

‘Mr. Shelby, can I ask you something?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you perhaps have a scar on your lower back? On your right just above your glutes?’

‘How do you know that?’ He stared up at you, holding your gaze as Helena came back with the supplies you needed.

‘Given it was a back injury you were transported to the tent on your stomach,’ you grabbed the alcohol to clean the wound, a hiss escaping him as you grabbed the tweezers, ready to pull out the metal embedded in his flesh. ‘I was the nurse that treated you. I was covered in ugly drapes and bloods, can’t say you could recognise me,’

Thomas winced as the ends of the tweezers dug around to grab the piece of metal, a small smirk on his lips. ‘You don’t say eh?’

‘I’m sure you’ll be having a déjà vu when I pull it out,’ you grabbed it and pulled it out, a loud growl escaping his lips as air pushed past his lips.

‘Thank you again.’

‘No problem, Mr. Shelby.’ You disposed of the bullet in a dish Arthur held out to you. ‘Next time Helena is not picked up I’ll bring her home and bring my first aid kit with me.’

‘That’s actually not a bad idea,’ he pulled himself up, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it. ‘Small Heath is starting you feel like a battlefield,’

‘Then I’ll be your nurse ready to care you to health.’

[zablife]

Pearls from Tommy

Author's Note: Blame @thomashelbyswife for these naughty headcanons! All that talk about Tommy's fetish for his wife's jewelry got me thinking...

Warning:🔞 drinking, nothing but smut

💋 Tommy buys you a long flawless strand of pearls for your birthday, gifting them to you before an evening out on the town. Despite your protests about the cost, he assures you nothing is too good for his beloved. "They're the gem of queens, my darling, and you'll have nothing less."

💋 When you return to your suite at the Midland after dinner, pleasantly tipsy from the champagne, he undresses you with feverish kisses, anxious to discard any impediment between himself and your soft skin...except your pearls.

💋 Admiring the shine of the beads in the dim light as they disappear between the valley of your breasts, his eyes become hazy with lust. He instructs you not to remove the jewelry in an octave lower than usual and you nod obediently unable to respond in your state of arousal.

💋 To your delight, Tommy has several creative uses for his present, breaking his own rule almost immediately by removing the jewels and wrapping them around your wrists. "Can't having you wriggling away while I'm tasting you, can I?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow at you playfully.

💋 After your first orgasm, you push him into a leather chair. Watching his face contort in pleasure as you repay the favor, rolling the strands experimentally over his firm shaft as a wicked smile plays on his lips. He's had another idea.

💋 Pulling you up from your knees, he guides you onto the bed and runs a knuckle through your wet folds. With a hum of appreciation at you laid out just for him, he pulls the necklace from his pocket and gathers it between his fingers, teasing your slit by dragging it tantalizingly slowly across your over sensitive clit, eventually making your breathing ragged with desire.

💋 You don't realize his mouth has replaced the jewelry, sensation overwhelming you when he begins to use a single, thick finger to fill you with the precious bauble. All too soon you're coming undone and he's pulling the strand from you along with a flood of juices as you tug at the long strands of hair atop his head.

💋 Pupils blown wide, he holds the necklace before you, glistening with your release and you gasp as he licks it clean, tongue running over each tiny ball as he had with your delicate bud moments earlier.

💋 He climbs up to meet you on the bed, lacing a large hand behind your neck and slipping the necklace over your head. You bite your lip as you mount him, feeling him throb inside you as the weight of the precious piece slaps your stomach, tapping over the spot he's hitting so delightfully and achingly deep.

💋 Tommy grips the strand of pearls in his fist hard enough to cease your movements and you cry out at the force wondering if you'll run out of air before it snaps. Desperate for more of you, he pulls you into a passionate kiss full of tongue and teeth before rolling you to your back and plunging into your velvet heat once more.

💋 As his pace becomes punishing, the sweat between you collects, sliding the beads between you, massaging your breasts and brushing your nipples. You don't notice the noise you're making until Tommy stops his thrusts just before your climax.

💋 He runs a single strand taught over your juicy, parted lips and onto your tongue. Leaning down to brush his nose against the shell of your ear, he whispers, "Have to keep quiet, love, or you'll wake everyone in the hotel."

💋With an impatient moan, you allow him to push your chin closed and you bite down as the first waves of pleasure crash over you. Muffled cries turn to gentle sucking sounds as you come down from your high, lustrous round gems rolling over your tongue as you pulse with aftershocks.

💋 "How do you feel, sweetheart?" Tommy asks, running his fingertips over your thigh as you sit in bed together afterward having a smoke.

Twisting the strands between your fingertips you giggle, "Like a queen!"

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

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@christinasyellowflowers

@theshelbyclan

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@runnning-outof-time

@look-at-the-soul

@gypsy-girl-08

@peakyscillian

@moral-terpitude

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dreamlandcreations

@there-goes-thefighter

@call-sign-shark

@brummiereader

@shelby-fangirl00

@l1-l4

@watercolorskyy

@cillmequick

@dandelionprints

@peakyltd

@holacia3

@pacifymebby

@huntingingoodwill

@allie131313

@dearshelby

[stargirlfics]

God imagine Sex with soft dark Tommy Shelby

😵‍💫 oh please sign me up! sensual but also aggressive with you, he’s using his hands a lot to pin you or position you, all in the eye contact and condescending praise he’s whispering lowly to you while he takes you apart!! yeah i want him!

[peaky1wh0re]

Smash.

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[idksmtms]

The Comeback (Tommy Shelby x reader, Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess)

Request 

A/N: I changed the request a little because the only person who comes back from the dead on Peaky Blinders is Alfie Solomons. He reserves the right. But I also felt like this could fit in so well with the end of S1/start of S2 story where Grace has gone and Tommy is on his own in Small Heath and she comes back out of the blue. 

Summary: After Grace left and he couldn’t follow, Tommy decides to get on with his life and agrees to marry the daughter of a local businessman who could help further the Peaky Blinders’ operation. When the line of his feelings begins to blur, Grace reappears. 

Word count: 6,862

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, some show spoilers, angst, era typical attitudes on men, women, and marriage, marriage of convenience, (seeming) one-sided love, (seemingly) unrequited love, smoking/reader + characters smoking cigs, cheating, divorce, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Peaky Blinders characters. I do not claim to own any of the Peaky Blinders characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

When Thomas Shelby agreed to the proposal your father had set forth, you were initially quite surprised. You had heard talk of an Irish barmaid at the Garrison, or maybe it was that one black-haired prostitute in Small Heath, you couldn’t quite remember, but you had heard that his heart had been intrigued if not settled upon a woman. 

Your father had mentioned a marriage between the two of you would be beneficial, which you took to mean that he would most certainly be proposing it, and had decided to do a little bit of snooping. Nothing major, you simply wanted to know a little more about the man you might be forced into marrying, and little whispers of his reputation reached you through the household staff. 

He was intimidating, never smiled, was always focused on business, and he wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. With each word you felt a nail hammer into your coffin. But then it was also said he was loyal to his family, to his people, that he would do anything for them, and it made you feel a little better. It made him at least partially human, anyway. 

You didn’t know much, the name Peaky Blinders was thrown, speculation about him was always in the air, but you knew very little else. You had no idea what he looked like, what his voice sounded like, what he thought of Small Heath. What did he think of your father? Was a marriage to you a worthy consequence of business? Did he know what you looked like? Did he think you were pretty? 

So when your father had initially told you that he would be offering your hand to the notorious man, you had expected him to return with a furrowed brow and a gruff question as to why the hell the man wouldn’t want to secure a partnership in such a way. Instead, you found your father grinning in the living room, clapping his hands upon seeing you and telling you that the wedding date had been set for February 1st, 1921. 

You had taken everything in stride. You weren’t really in a position to complain about a marriage that would give you security and allow you to keep the lifestyle you had been accustomed to. Though you had once had girlish fantasies of marrying a man who loved you to the fullest, who got down on one knee and proposed in front of everyone because he couldn’t bare the thought of never calling you his wife, you had quickly abandoned them when the realities of the world were slowly revealed to you. 

You had seen friends get pregnant as young girls and thrown to the streets by disgraced families and left by men who couldn’t be bothered to care for them. You had seen women marry men they loved only to be beaten black and blue for the rest of their lives until they jumped into the river with their children to end their suffering. You had seen girls from well off families, who had fathers made rich off the war and mothers who spent their lives cajoling them, suddenly turned into prostitutes because the man they thought would marry them sullied their honour and left with nothing else to say. 

You were alright with this marriage, you only hoped that Tommy would treat you with respect, that he would never lay a hand on you in anger, and that if love did not blossom then you could at least be happy with each other regardless. It was simple, it was realistic. 

You met Thomas Shelby for the first time on the day of your wedding. He had sent you one letter before that time, brought to you in your father’s coat pocket after he announced that Mr. Shelby had accepted the proposal. His writing was clean if a little hurried, no random inkblots or crossed out words, and he addressed you as ‘Ms’. He expressed that you could do as you pleased for the wedding, he would show up on the day and say ‘I do’ and need not be involved any more than that. He told you about the new estate he had purchased, Arrow House, and how it would become your new place of residence after the wedding. He wished you well at the end, but signed only with his name. You had folded the letter again, pressed it back into the envelope, and then deposited it into your nightstand. 

On the day of the wedding, you were suddenly alight with the nerves that had not presented themselves at the time of his accepting your father’s proposal. Minutes before you were due to walk down the aisle you began to question the entire event, began to question if this was really the life you would choose for yourself and how difficult it would be for his men to track you down if you ran away right at that moment and hid yourself somewhere in Cornwall. Instead your father gripped your arm and threaded it through his and walked you through the doors of the church. 

When you saw him for the first time you were a little shocked that someone who was commonly described as a gangster looked so elegant. He wore a wool suit in navy blue with a matching bowtie and a little sprig of snowdrops in his breast pocket. They matched the flowers in your bouquet. He had the same haircut as his brothers, shaved on the sides and long on the top, and the blackness of his hair reminded you of coal. He was going a little grey on the sides, but you couldn’t tell how old he was and whether it made sense for grey hairs to already be appearing. He had very faint freckles all over his face and down his neck and a natural pout to his lips. On anyone else it would make them look endearing, on him it made him seem sullen and dangerous. 

Somehow you were unsurprised that his eyes were so blue. In the dim light of the church they were greyish, but piercing like the distant beam of a lighthouse on the blackest night. They fit him, you thought as you walked closer and closer. They were so open, yet they revealed nothing. They were the eyes of a dangerous person, of someone who didn’t smile often. They were rather terrifying. You wanted to know what he thought of you. 

Your father shook Tommy’s hand as he gave you over to him, smiling a proud smile as if he were marrying Tommy himself, and kissed you on the cheek quickly before finding his seat at the first pew. You glanced at his eyes once as he took your right hand, but then turned to look at the priest and kept your eyes there. 

You felt distant from yourself at the ceremony, like you were at the shop counter waiting for the grocer to hand you your items so you could pay and leave. You said ‘I do’ mechanically, pushed the ring over his finger like it had been rehearsed a hundred times, and let him press a soft, unfeeling, kiss to your lips. 

He kept your hand in his as you walked out of the church, and he helped you step up into his car. He waited until you had gathered your dress around you before closing the door and walking around, then waited for you to finish waving to your family before driving in the direction of Arrow House. You would see them all in a few hours for the celebration dinner at the estate, but it felt like such a final goodbye that a few tears slipped down your cheeks. 

He didn’t say anything as he drove, just casually rested an elbow on the door and kept his eyes trained on the road ahead. But you were impatient, and surprised to find that you had actually enjoyed the sound of his voice the few times he had used it in the church and wanted to hear it again. 

“Your brothers seem nice,” and you winced because how could those be the first words out of your mouth when you were alone with your husband for the first time. His lips twitched in amusement and you flushed with embarrassment. 

“Not one of my siblings could ever be described as ‘nice’.” You frowned but the way he said it wasn’t insulting, it was almost as if he was proud that they weren’t nice people and it made you turn to look at him for a long moment. 

“Hm, I’m not sure what that says about you, Mr. Shelby,” you hummed, pressing your lips together then releasing them then pressing them together again. 

“Must it say something about me?” He asked, one eyebrow raising as he glanced toward you. You smiled then, letting out a little laugh as you shook your head. 

“I suppose not,” you sighed, “I suppose not.” You turned to look at the road ahead and shrugged your shoulders. “I guess I’m just attempting to learn more about you Mr. Shelby, however roundabout my methods may seem.” His face looked a little calmer then, less severe, and you felt triumphant that you had somehow caused it. 

“Ask your questions, miss, and I will find a way to answer them,” he replied with a nod, but you smirked. 

“It’s Missus now, Mrs. Shelby,” and the way you said it made him huff out something you believed was a chuckle. Another success. 

“Ask your questions then, Mrs. Shelby.” 

“Why did you agree to this marriage?” He raised an eyebrow again, changing the hand he used on the steering wheel and turning a little in his seat to look at you. The road ahead was empty, but he still glanced back every few moments to ensure he was driving straight on it. 

“Your father’s business can process the money from mine and turn it into legitimate investments. It would have been stupid not to agree,” he said it simply, with slightly wide eyes and his head shaking a little, like it was an obvious answer. You hummed and nodded, but were left a little unsatisfied. The juvenile part of your brain hoped that he would say something about how he had seen a picture of you and felt in his heart of hearts that you were the one for him. Though now having met him you supposed he wouldn’t say something like that even to the true love of his life. 

“What do you think of me?” You asked. You had tried to sound confident but it came out small and apprehensive, as if you weren’t sure you actually wanted the answer to the question. “Be honest,” you added hastily, and he looked at you again. His eyes were so focused on your face that you turned away bashfully. 

“I believe,” he began slowly, thoughtfully, and paused to pull his cigarette case from his pocket. He pulled one out of it and rubbed it along his bottom lip once, then twice before settling it at the corner of his mouth. He began to reach down for the lighter in his outer pocket but you quickly slipped your hand into it and pulled it out. He looked at you with that raised eyebrow frown he seemed to enjoy using, but let you flick the flame into life and bring it to the tip of his cigarette. “You are someone intelligent enough to know that you have limited choices in the world,” he sucked another breath from the cigarette, “but strategic enough to accept only those that benefit you.” You smiled at that, a small conspiratorial smile that you aimed at your own lap. “That is why you allowed this engagement in the first place.” 

“You seem to think highly of me. How do you know I didn’t simply bend to my father’s will?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in return and looking at him as if you were daring him to answer. 

“You could be right,” he hummed, nodding in thought, “I may have completely misjudged you, but I don’t think so,” he shrugged and you just watched him as the car brought you both closer and closer to your new home. 

“Would you like to know what I think of you?” You asked, but regardless of his answer you would tell him anyway. 

“Go on then,” and he sounded a little exasperated but you ignored it. 

“I think you’ll be the death of me.” 

As the days, weeks, and months passed on your marriage, you and Tommy found an easy companionship with each other. You wouldn’t say the two of you ever found a routine, per se, you believed he would never not be all over the place running and expanding The Shelby Company Ltd. but the moments that the two of you did have together were enjoyable, pleasurable. 

The days he was on time for dinner, whether that be coming home on time or leaving his study, you would eat across from each other at the dining table and you would fill the silence with chatter. He didn’t often speak, but neither of you minded really, he was still a part of the conversation. He would huff out a laugh at anything humorous, offer a sarcastic comment or thoughtful observation when he felt it prudent, but otherwise sat there and took in all the details. 

Tommy found that he enjoyed listening to you, learning about your day or any little details about yourself you offered in your little speeches. Though he had never thought himself domestic, never imagined himself in a scenario such as this where he was sat eating a calm dinner with a wife, he found he secretly enjoyed it. 

He began looking forward to the evening time where he would breeze through the doors of the dining room to find you about to have a seat in your usual place at the far end of the table. His place was always set, and he wondered if you looked at it and imagined him on the days he wasn’t there. You would smile when you noticed him, grazing your eyes over him as if looking for something, then sit down carefully in your seat as Frances began bringing the dishes out from the kitchen. 

“How was your day?” You always asked it first, always looked at him with big open eyes as if you were genuinely interested and anything big or small he had to tell you would be appreciated. He would nod, pulling out his own chair and settling himself down quickly, offering you a distracted little smile. 

“Alright,” that was always the answer, whether it had actually been ‘alright’ you would never know, especially because you refused to question him further than that unless it had been a particularly boring day for you and poking and prodding at his stony facade would be your only fun activity. 

You always hummed and stayed quiet for a little while, smiling brightly at Frances and thanking her as she put down the last dish and began serving you both a first course of soup. You were all manners, waiting politely until both bowls had been filled and Frances had stepped away before taking a sip and humming in delight. Then you would dab the corners of your mouth and begin speaking without looking up from your bowl. 

“I went out for a ride today”, “I went to a little afternoon tea at Mavis Weatherby’s”, “My mother came for lunch”, “I’ve started reading a lovely little novel”, “I’m planning a little trip to London to see a milner’s and a tailor”. 

You always had something to tell him, no matter how mundane, and he always listened despite his stoic and almost disinterested face. He found your voice enjoyable, if nothing else. The hum of it in his ear was pleasant, and sometimes if he lost himself in his thoughts, it would be like a soft little kiss against the shell of his ear as he traversed the paths of his mind that needed tending to. 

You would tell him in extreme detail about whatever it is you did that was taking your fancy for the day, describing and explaining wherever you felt it prudent. You always looked him in the eyes when you spoke to him, and if you noticed him start to drift away, a mischievous little smirk would cross your mouth and you would suddenly go silent, waiting for him to refocus before continuing. Neither of you would say anything about the minor interruption, but he would often feel his own lips twitch in response to your little smile. 

Once dinner was finished, the two of you would walk out together and pause in the hallway. You would stand as close to him as you could get without actually touching him, the cloth of your dress brushing against him as you looked into his eyes with a warm little smile. At this point you would tell him that you were going to read until it was time for bed, either in the library or in the sitting room, and every single evening you offered him an invitation. “Would you like to join me?”, “You could join me if you wished”. And every single evening, he refused you politely, “it’s alright, sweetheart, you go ahead.”, “I’ve got some work to finish, you enjoy yourself, darling”. He knew you knew he would refuse the invitation, but the fact that you offered every single evening, without fail, made something warm bloom in his chest. Something that now seemed to slip over his eyes whenever he looked at you and made him see the world in a way he hadn’t seen before. 

You would nod simply, a smile on your face that said “I knew this was going to happen but I enjoy our little routine” before reaching up and pressing your lips to his cheek in a soft kiss that always made him stiffen up a little then unwind a little more than he had before. 

You both shared a bedroom, something he hadn’t expected but you had insisted upon. You took the left side of the bed, saying you preferred to sleep away from the door, and he obliged because he had never cared what side he was on anyway. You seemed to enjoy the view you got from the windows on that side of the bed and far be it from him to deny you something that gave you joy. 

Your respective nightstands were so clearly depictions of yourselves. Yours was covered in books and jewellery and little trinkets of yours and creams you forgot to put on before going to bed but kept there anyway. His often only had a single book on it, his cigarette case, his lighter, and an ashtray. Sometimes in the evenings, when he was lying in bed next to you, trying to read with tired eyes, you would lean over him, crushing the book to his chest and pressing the side of your torso to his face, as you reached for his cigarette case and lighter. 

This little moment, this little instance, endeared you to him the most, somehow. The little huff you would let out just before, placing your book on your cluttered nightstand before offering a quick ‘sorry’ and then just draping yourself over him with a disregard for his focus to haphazardly grab at his nightstand until the cigarette case and lighter were in your hand before falling back into your place. The reach over always managed to press your breasts to his face, and he supposed he would never complain about that regardless of who the woman was doing it. 

You always took out a cigarette for him first with a sheepish smile, as if knowing you had disturbed the fragile thread of attention he had been trying to stitch to the book, and brought it to his mouth, rubbing it across his lip before settling it into the corner of his mouth like he always did. You would light his cigarette as he smirked a little, turning away to blow the smoke so you couldn’t see the expression as you shook one out for yourself and lit it before handing both the case and the lighter back to Tommy so he could toss it onto his nightstand himself this time. 

You had an awful habit of forgetting your own cigarettes everywhere, and then stealing Tommy’s. The first time you had taken one of his, you had complained about the brand he smoked, said it was much too strong for you, but you kept stealing and smoking them regardless. He found himself refilling his case a lot more since you came into his life. Not only that, but he found himself filling half the case with the brand of cigarettes you liked so that you would have them whenever you misplaced your case or simply couldn’t be bothered to look for it. You had never mentioned it the first time he had done it, but he had seen your little smile when you opened his cigarette case for the first few weeks after and it had motivated him to continue his new little routine. 

Then, after you had placed the cigarette in your mouth and taken a gentle drag, you would look at him out of the corner of your eye with a little smile quirking at your lips despite your best efforts to try and hide it. He would smirk, the clearest smile he would ever give you, and with a little giggle you would take the cigarette from your mouth and stretch your arm out to hold it away from the two of you as you draped your body over his and pressed your lip to his. His mouth would already be parted slightly, his tongue leaping out to caress yours, and your giggles would muffle against his lips. He took the cigarette from your fingers and pressed it to his own before mashing the ends haphazardly into the ashtray on his sidetable and wrapping his arms around your torso. 

All you could say was that these evenings were long and… pleasurable. Subsequently, it came as no surprise that within three months of the wedding you were pregnant with your first child. 

You had mentioned to Tommy that you weren’t feeling your best for a few days when Polly decided to make a ‘surprise’ trip to Arrow House. Within one look at you she had smiled broadly and mischievously and congratulated you on your pregnancy. It had come as a shock, an undulating mix of fear and joy and elation churning in your chest and gut. 

When you had told Tommy, he had stood still for a few moments, gazing at your face as you smiled hesitantly. You had hoped he would be happy, and despite his status as your husband, you could never quite be sure of his reaction to anything. His face hadn’t changed at the news, but quick as a flash he was standing so close to you that you felt almost attacked. His hands gripped your face, almost squishing your mouth into a pucker, and he was kissing you like you were keeping air from him in the moments your mouths weren’t pressed together. Salty tears made the kiss briny and you almost sobbed against his lips but he didn’t let you go. 

Nine months later, and you were welcoming a beautiful little boy with Tommy’s eyes and your hair into the world. Eighteen months later, a little girl with your eyes and Tommy’s hair took her place in the nursery. Your little James and Margaret. 

In that time, slowly and carefully, you had somehow built the dream family you had once imagined for yourself. One evening in the sitting room, after the children had been put to sleep and you were curled up on one of the sofas with a book, you looked up to Tommy at his desk to the side of the room. He had taken to doing his work there in the evenings during your first pregnancy, and as if feeling your eyes on him, he had glanced up, a little smile at the corner of his lips. You simply smiled in return and brought your gaze back down to your book, but your heart was racing without your control and you had to clench your jaw to stop yourself from yelling ‘I love you!’ over and over again without a care. 

In the time Tommy had been married to you, everyone had noticed the change taking place in him, except him. Though no one other than Polly dared to say it to his face, they noticed the new threads of gentleness that appeared when you were near. They noticed how much easier his smiles came (despite the continuing rarity) and how he watched you without wavering when you took care of the children. 

Polly often teased him to shut his mouth lest he catch flies around you, and would whisper about him to you in front of him in a way that made his mouth set into an almost petulant frown (that only made the two of you giggle further). He wasn’t sure why Polly liked you so much when she had felt no fondness for Grace. If all her teasing was right, was he not just as distracted with you as he had been with ‘the Irish barmaid’? But she seemed to dote on you like she had done on Ada, and took time to come see you and the children every week. 

One evening, Tommy watched you from his place at the desk in the living room, and even the simple activity of laying his eyes on you made his chest feel a little calmer. He wasn’t quite sure when the tide had turned in his feelings, when he had so unforgivably lost control of his own heart, but here he was now, absentmindedly rubbing his cigarette against his lip, wondering if love might be real… 

Times of peace weren’t meant to last. The first thought that crossed your mind when you learnt the news. You stood frozen in front of Tommy’s desk, staring at the little card you had pulled out of the drawer while searching for his spare lighter. Your cigarette was already dangling from your lips, unknowing the turmoil it’s user was going through. 

You had only gone in search of the spare lighter. You knew Tommy kept one in there for you when he was out of the house and you couldn’t find your own. There were dozens of spares all around the house for you. He knew how absolutely lazy you could be when you wanted to and he left a lighter in every room to make sure he didn’t have to hear you moan and groan about getting up when you were already comfortable in your space. 

The children were busy with lessons in their playroom upstairs, and you had been doing some correspondence in the sitting room so you could be near the big radio. You had hummed along as you got up and moved to the desk, pulling open the first drawer, the one you had seen him pull the lighter out of countless times, and there, right at the centre, as if carefully placed lest the paper be ruined, was a card with the name ‘Grace Burgess’ written in pretty looping handwriting. The lighter sat right next to it. 

Everything seemed to tilt and for a moment you thought you would fall over. You picked up the card gently by the corner, depositing it onto the top of the desk before pulling out the lighter and hurriedly lighting your cigarette. If you didn’t have a drag of it within the next second you might collapse. 

You took at least three drags from the cigarette before you were ready to turn the card over and read whatever was written there. It was in the same loopy, feminine, handwriting in a bright blue ink that reminded you of Tommy’s eyes. You almost picked up the lighter again to burn the paper. 

It was short and simple, an invitation to meet at a hotel, dated about a week prior. You dropped it back onto the desk, watching the thick cardstock fall with a light thump, and closed your eyes. You took deep, heavy, breaths of the cigarette until your hands stopped shaking and your mind felt like it had settled again. You grabbed the lighter but left the card on top of Tommy’s desk, turned the volume of the radio as high as possible, and returned to your position on the sofa. Every time one cigarette finished, you lit another, but you didn’t move from your position on the sofa. 

At one point the children came tottering in and you haphazardly wiped at your eyes before smashing the cigarette into the ashtray and patting the spot on the sofa beside you so they could come in for a snuggle before dinner. You hadn’t even realised the sun had set long ago. You kissed them on the tops of their heads and tried not to cry into their hair. 

Frances came in to tell you that dinner could be served when the main door opened and Tommy came whirling in. The children scrambled off the sofa and ran down the hall to greet their father who was already reaching down, ready to pick them up, one in each arm. You weren’t sure you could face him yet, so you slinked through the side door and went straight for the dining room. 

Tommy went first in the direction of the sitting room, but as Frances came out of the door for the dining room to gather the children, she cleared her throat and informed him that Mrs. Shelby was already there. He nodded, turning around to get to you, realising how odd it felt that he had been in the house this long and you hadn’t come to greet him, hadn’t pecked him on the lips and beamed up at him as you usually did when you heard the door open. 

You were sitting in your usual seat but he could tell something was wrong. You were staring at the plate as if you had never seen one before, and your hands were tightly clasped in your lap. He could see how tense your forearms were, and after depositing the children in their seats, he went over to you and reached down to gently pry your hands apart. He watched your face for any sign, anything that would tell him why you were acting this way, but you just closed your eyes until he let you go and went to his seat. 

Could you perhaps be pregnant again? But that would be happy news, something to celebrate, not despair over. Was there something wrong with your father? A death in the family you had been phoned about during the day? He couldn’t tell. And he hated it. 

Dinner was an awkward affair. You spoke very little, and when you did speak it was only towards the children, asking them about their lessons and how they were enjoying their days thus far. You refused to look at him during the entirety of the meal, and anger and frustration were slowly beginning to rise inside of him. As soon as it was over, you were ushering the kids out and up the stairs so they could start readying for bed. You went with them, a clear attempt at avoiding Tommy’s company, and he stormed into his study, slamming the door behind him. 

You took as long as you could, kissing their little heads and pulling the sheets up to their chins before steeling yourself and heading downstairs. The door to his study opened just as you hopped off the last step but you continued into the sitting room. Tommy followed, and stood just inside the door with wary eyes. He watched you walk all the way over to his desk and pick up a piece of card sitting on the top. You held it up so he could see the sender but your face betrayed nothing. He had never seen you look so stoic. 

“Did you go?” Your voice was quiet, small, the kind of voice Margaret used when she had a nightmare and came knocking at your door. 

You had thought that despite the circumstances that began your marriage, the two of you had found love. You loved him, you were sure of that. But looking at the note, knowing who it had come from, you felt like the naive girl who had once wished for true love and hadn’t yet realised that wasn’t possible. 

Of course it was unrealistic for you to think he had grown to love you just because he was kind to you. Of course it was unrealistic to think he felt he needed to be faithful to you, he was a man after all. Of course it was unrealistic of you to think your beautiful family would last… 

You could feel tears press behind your eyes but you simply gulped again and again to push them away. Tommy’s face hadn’t changed, his usual stoic expression that you once found intriguing, then endearing, now only annoyed and enraged you. 

“Yes,” he answered, and he didn’t say anything else. You just stared at him, at the way he reached into his coat pocket for his cigarettes and lighter. At the way he opened his cigarette case and offered it in your direction before taking one. It meant walking over to him to take it. You stayed where you were and he slowly picked a cigarette out of it and rubbed it against his lip before lighting it and putting everything back where it usually resided in his coat pockets. You gulped again. The tears were getting more aggressive in their mission to escape your eyes.  

“Did you fuck her?” You whispered, hands shaking as they clenched on the edge of the desk. It was quiet for a moment, and you wondered if he had even heard you. “Did you fuck her?” You asked it louder and then cringed. The word felt so crass coming out of your mouth, so wrong. 

“Yes.” And that was all that needed to be said, wasn’t it? What else really mattered? Because in that one word lay everything you had wanted to know in the first place. Did he feel the need to be faithful to you? No. Did he care about you and your little family? No. Did he love you? No… 

You stood there for a few minutes, fingertips pressed as hard as possible into the top of the desk. Your eyes were closed, hoping to trap the tears inside. You didn’t move, and Tommy watched you the entire time. 

Then, like a radio being switched on, you took a deep breath in and opened your eyes. You straightened up a little and slowly took your hands off of the desktop. You looked at Tommy and nodded. 

“Ok,” and then you walked past him and out of the room without a second glance. 

By the time Tommy came up to bed close to midnight, only the lamp on your vanity was lighting the room and you were under the covers, turned onto your side to face the windows and breathing slowly as if you were asleep. 

The next few months were different in a way that Tommy despised. You had pulled away from him but in such a subtle way that no one else would recognise that everything had changed between the two of you. 

You still accompanied the children to the front door when he came home, but you no longer kissed him there. You still asked him about his day and engaged the children in conversation over dinner, but you barely spoke of yourself anymore, no longer telling him the stories of your mundane activities or unnecessary details about little things of no consequence. You still read next to him in the evenings, but you no longer leaned over him to grab for his cigarettes. In fact, you no longer took cigarettes from him ever. You were careful about taking your case and lighter with you everywhere, and if you didn’t have it around you, then you went out of your way to leave the room and get it rather than ask him for one. The cigarettes he kept for you in his own case were now left unused. 

Everything became so much worse when Grace revealed that she was pregnant. She had been so happy to tell him despite her own marriage, and he could never be sad knowing that a child of his was coming into existence. He loved James and Margaret with all the soul he possessed, he could never be sad about a child. But the news caused a turmoil inside of him that he didn’t know how to handle, because now came the time to decide, to look into himself and question if everything he felt for you was love, and not only love, but a stronger one than the one he had with Grace? 

You didn’t give him the time to decide. When he told you about Grace’s pregnancy, you had walked out and refused to speak to him. You had taken your things into Margaret’s room and slept curled up on the edge of her bed. 

When Tommy arrived home the next evening, there were no children to be greeted by, no smiling wife, just Frances holding an envelope with his name on it in your careful writing. 

Dear Thomas Shelby,

Please do not be alarmed at the absence of the children or myself, it was of my own volition that we have gone. Though I know it is cowardly of me to express all this in a letter, I could not bring myself to face you. 

The children and I have gone to my sister’s home for the time being while everything is finalised. Enclosed in a file on your desk, you will find the papers required for us to be divorced. You need only sign them, everything else can be handled by a lawyer. 

From my father, I understand that your business has become fully legitimised, but for extra safety I will ensure that it is understood by all that this divorce is my own fault and you were merely subject to it. 

In due time, I will begin looking for a place to live near Arrow House or Small Heath so you may visit the children as often as you please. I would not dream of keeping them from their father or vice versa. It is my assumption that you and Grace will take Arrow House as your residence when the child has arrived. 

Please be happy with her. If the love I hold for you is even half the strength of the love you two share, then I would rather deal with my own pain than keep you from it. 

Love, 

Y/n Shelby

Frances watched Mr. Shelby carefully place the letter back into its envelope and turn and walk into his study and close the door behind him. There was a crash and the smashing of glass and then some more crashes and smashes. A guttural scream that made her heart clench in fear and her eyes close. 

Frances had helped you pack your things earlier in the day. She had helped the children ready to leave, had listened as you phoned a lawyer in London and had the papers drafted and sent over to the house, had watched as you wrote the letter to Mr. Shelby. You had kissed her on the cheek and told her to come visit you as a friend, and she had promised she would with tears in her eyes. It felt as if the world was ending. 

But she knew that eventually you would find a nice house for you and the children, supported by your father’s money. You would send them to visit Tommy at Arrow House where Grace would pretend to care for them and they would slowly grow unhappy with their father and his wife. 

Or maybe Tommy would go over to you and you would tell the valet to only open the door for your former husband as you walked the grounds to avoid having to speak with him. And he would try all he could to speak with you, try and surprise you so you would be forced into speaking to him, but you were an intelligent woman, and Frances knew you were highly capable of avoiding someone you didn’t want to see. 

And eventually, despite your heartbreak, you would meet someone truly worthy of you, and he would be willing to become the father of your children and you would want to love him, and everything would feel right for you again. 

But what did Frances know?

Taglist: @4ria790 (I wasn't sure if you wanted to be tagged in only Cillian Murphy RPFs or his characters too so I added you here! Pls let me know if I should only tag you for the RPFs)

[kat-mobile]

Hey love ❤️ hope you’re doing good

Can I request Tommy with a gentle, empathetic and sensitive reader please. It was an arranged marriage and he found out his new wife would cry herself to sleep over a book she read or just a cat. His reaction to someone who is completely opposite of him

Thank you in advance ✨

Tommy with a wife who's his complete opposite

A/N: Hey baby, thanks for the request!! I'm doing good and I hope you are too ❤️ I forgot to put on the requests post to specify if you want it as a fic or headcanons so I've made it sort of a mix of the two, hope that's okay anon. I made this blog to try and improve my writing skills and as this is my first attempt it isn't the best, so sorry about that lol. Hope you like it!! (this is set sometime around series 1-2 cause those are my fave)

It was an arranged marriage and to be honest... you weren't particularly thrilled by the notion of being married to Birmingham's most known and feared gangster. But you would do anything for your family and if your father decided that this is what would be best for securing the future of the family then you'd follow through on your part of the deal, even if it seemed like you and Tommy had absolutely nothing in common.

This was a couple months ago now and you had somewhat settled into your new life in Small Heath and with Tommy by your side, the two of you living in comfortable tandem. You had settled into a routine and life was good, or as good as it could be with the risk of being married to a Shelby.

He would buy you any book that you so much as happened to glance at and in turn you would patch up and sew back together any unfortunate pieces of clothing that got in the way of Tommy and his dangerous life style and work, fighting back tears and worrying at your lower lip as you did so. You may not quite understand why he was constantly putting himself in danger but he was your husband all the same and you had grown to love him as your marriage progressed

you would also force him to go and see an actual trained medical professional whenever he came home with said ruined clothing, as a dead husband is less than ideal and you have grown attached these last couple months

Your empathy and tendancy to cry over him when he got hurt was a shock at first but he quickly got used to it, he even tried to avoid getting hurt just so as to not have to see you cry over him

He may not say it outright but he appreciates everything you do and how much you care for him

He doesn't like to keep secrets from you but he doesn't share all aspects of work life with you as he doesn't want you to worry too much, but if being kept in the dark would worry you even more he'd make an effort to keep you in the loop

Your gentleness and compassion is a welcome contrast to his life from before you were apart of it, Tommy didn't know that he needed it before you

If there's one thing about Tommy Shelby, it's that he protects what's his and as his wife he treats you with the utmost care (especially if you have a tendancy to seek out the good in all people)

One night when Tommy (finally) came to bed he found you curled up in a ball on your side with your back to the door, tears gently running down your smooth cheeks

Unsure of what to do when confronted by your distress but still wanting to help, he'd rush to your side and scoop you up onto his lap, holding you close with your tear-stained cheek pressed against his chest and an arm thrown protectively around your shoulders. He'd cautiously rock back and forwards whilst his hand moves slowly up and down your back in what he hopes is a soothing motion. He's a little awkward and stiff but damn if he isn't fucking trying

He'd use his forefinger and thumb to tilt your chin up and force your eyes to meet his own before softly questioning you on why you were crying

"What you crying for, hmm love? Ruining your pretty face"

He'd say, wiping away your tears with his thumb

Upon hearing that the reason for your tears was a sad ending to one of the books he bought you he'd be a little taken aback and he would honestly have to suppress the urge to laugh

It all seemed rather silly to him that you'd cry over some words on paper

"Tommy it isn't funny, it was really upsetting" you'd hiccup out through your tears

he'd just shake his head and sigh, apologising, before pulling you closer, finally laying down on the bed with your legs intertwined

Tommy had hoped it would be a one of chance but when he caught you crying in bed again over the ending of Of Mice and Men, he very quickly figured that he'd have to adapt

Tommy developed a system for when you had your... shall we say moments, he'd sit down on his side of the bed with his back pressed against the headboard before he lifted you up and placed you in-between his legs

Sitting you so that your back was resting against his chest and you could feel his heartbeat

You would then explain to him the sad moments in your books as he softly hummed and nodded his head along to your words

And when he got tired from your quiet voice lulling him to sleep he'd pull you down with him as he laid on his side, caging you in against his chest with an arm around your waist

Those were the nights that he slept the best

[pacifymebby]

*slides a crisp $20 bill across the table* peaky boys reaction to the reader that gets excited any time they see them, like they literally light up with excitement, even if they just saw them~

Hiiii sorry this took so long and i hope i manage to do it justice ♥️

Tommy

🌿 He's alarmed by it at first, almost thinks its a little silly... Suspicious is perhaps the right word? Tommy is used to people performing for him, pretending to be something they're not, acting the way they think he wants them to act... Usually because they want to get something from him.

🌿So yes, at first he is cynical, he doesnt believe for a second that you're really so pleased to see him... Usually when Tommy enters a room that room falls silent, people shiver, people's mouths run dry... conversations go unfinished... a shadow passes over all he passes by.

🌿 Unless you're in that room... if you're in that room everything is different, your eyes light up, your whole demeanour brightens, you practically jump out of your seat and rush to him... you clasp his hand in yours and practically drag him to your table desperate to tell him all about your day and hear all about his... it's like he's the sun in your sky and he doesn't know what to think, only that somehow someone must have put you up to it, or perhaps you yourself are playing a game of mistruth. Attempting to deceive him...

🌿 The thing is he can't work out any alterior motive, theres no reason as far as he can tell, that you would want to cosy up to him or flatter him like this... And if you did, well, he can't help but think you'd be smarter than to think squealing and throwing your arms around him every time you see him is the best way to go about that...

🌿 But he can't bring himself to believe you're innocent, that you're being genuine... he wants to, really desperately wishes he could join you on your apparently care free sunny side of life but he can't... it's not like he hasn't been burned before...

🌿 So he's stand offish with you at first, always telling you to settle down, smirking at you, he almost seems a little embarrassed about the attention you're throwing at him... which is unusual for him because it's not like he isn't used to women flirting with him.. perhaps it's that this isn't flirting in the way he's used to.

🌿 It's warmer, more innocent. There's no games being played, not the way he's used to... and he gets very irate about it, feels he has to nip whatever trick you're trying to play in the bud immediately.

🌿 So the next time you rush to him throwing your arms around him he snatches your wrist in his hand and drags you away, into a lonely room, he sacred you with his sudden temper, the angry way he traps you between him and the door, finger pointing accusingly in your face...

🌿"Right miss l/n whatever this is eh, whatever you're playing at it ends right now you hear me? Right now..." you don't know what to say to him, speechless with fear, eyes wide and filled with tears as you stare up at him in shock. "Wh...what are you..." you start stuttering, your heart thudding in your chest, your stomach heavy like it's filled with stones so sad and disappointed because you love him and it looks right now like he hates you...

🌿 "Don't give me that love, I know you want something so you can drop the act... Whatever you want right, you do what everyone else does, you book an appointment with Lizzie and you book your turn!"

🌿But the minute the cold words leave his mouth he regrets them, the way you resolve falters, the way your eyes brim with tears... Your whole demeanour changes, you shrink away from him, as if it hurts to touch him. You can't look him in the eyes and he wonders if perhaps that hurts too now. Because you don't just love wildly, you hurt wildly too and he's wounded you mortally with his icy words and his cynicism...

🌿He knows straight away that there was no act, that you'd been nothing but genuine from the start. That perhaps your actions might have seemed a little childish, but that ultimately there was no harm in them. Or in you. You are just a very sweet girl who, for some god only knows reason, really loved him...

🌿 "Fuck I'm sorry love..." he sighs reaching for your hand, deciding better of such a halfhearted gesture and instead engulfing you in a warm embrace, holding you tight and secure, rocking you side to side, eyes closed, savouring every second he had with you in his arms. When he kisses your hair he breaths in your scent, looks down at you with these deep apologetic eyes, "Sorry love, forget myself sometimes... Get so wrapped up in me own head that I forget who I'm dealin with sometimes..."

🌿 "Its been three days since I saw you last.. I just missed you Tommy, I'm sorry I won't..." you begin to tell him you won't do it again, about to apologise for everything but he cuts you off, finger to your lips all, "no, no don't do that, please don't tell me you won't do it again love, please don't think I don't enjoy seeing you smilin eh? You keep smilin whenever you feel like smilin eh love, promise me you'll do that for me?" he says kissing your cheek, your nose, all over your face as hes talking to you, holding your cheek in his palm, his eyes so serious when he looks into your eyes waiting for an answer...

🌿 You're so confused, ten seconds again he looked like he hated you and now he's holding your face in your hands, smothering you in feathered kisses.

🌿"But..." you start your little frown would be adorable if he didn't feel so guilty for putting it there in the first place..."but tommy I don't understand you just said..."

🌿"Never you mind what I just said eh, I was wrong... Doesn't happen often sweetheart but sometimes, perhaps.. I am wrong." He says stroking your cheek, brushing your tears away... Because now that he knows this isn't a trick, now that he knows he can trust you, that this is safe, he's relieved to let his guard down, relieved to trust you the way he's wanted to for some time, relieved he can finally kiss you, taste a little of that sunshine you seem abundant in.

🌿He will make you promise him that you'll forget what he told you, that you wont stop smiling, and when you do he'll kiss you quickly on the lips and pat your cheek, "very good angel, good girl."

🌿Because the truth is that his cynicism before was just a defense mechanism. He hasn't seen someone light up the way you do for him for such a long time and he didn't want to believe you could really be so excited to see him, because believing that fact meant accepting that you really do love him, that in many ways you depend on him, that there are plenty of opportunities to let you down.

🌿The way he sees it, if he can make you that happy he can also make you twice as sad and he's seen that now too, just now when he almost broke your heart...

🌿In truth he loves your sweet ways, the way you rush to hug him, to hold his face in your hands and kiss him, without a care for who may be watching. He loves to see the light in your eyes when your whole face glows with joy thats because of and intended just for him.

🌿 Tommy is for the most part, a difficult man to read, he's reserved, always calm, his poker face was mastered at birth... You on the other hand wear all your feelings on your sleeve. Even if you wanted to hide how you felt about something you're pretty sure you couldn't. Somewhere between you and tommy there should be balance, you should even one another out. That isn't what happens however. If anything the contrast makes the both of you seem more extreme. You look giddy and wild in comparison to Tommys quiet, still nature. He looks dead behind the eyes, ice cold and unfeeling in comparison to you.

🌿 But it works, ultimately you need someone calm and he needs someone like you to remind him that there are still happy people in the world. That he still brings someone joy and meaning in life.

🌿 He does kind of wish you'd develop some kind of poker face though because he knows it isnt good for people to see you behave so childish and naïve, it puts you at risk. Makes you look like an easy target. Someone as sweet and pure as you sticks out like a sore thumb in Small Heath and he knows that every other bad man, men like him, out there will see you as an opportunity. Because sweet girls like you are the hardest to ignore when they cry. They'd make you cry to get to him.

🌿But what can he say, theres so much dark in the world and not enough people know joy, someones gotta let the light in from time to time and its good that you do.

🌿So when you run and throw your arms around him, burying your face into his chest he will wrap his coat around you and hold you just as tight. He'll let you smother him in kisses and embarass him with your relentless affection and he'll just chuckle, kiss you back and, eventually say something like "settle down now love, you'll make our company jealous..." He's only teasing you, always lighthearted, he'll never make the mistake of being harsh with you again.

🌿But he will lower his head and whisper a reminder to you, that there are peolple watching, that sometimes its better to keep your feelings concealed.

🌿He won't stop you though. After that first time when he scared you, sapped the life from you with two short thoughtless sentences, he has made an effort never to try and reign you in like that again. You're his sunshine girl and that's the way he wants you to stay forever.

🌿 In fact your happy go lucky excitable nature makes him more determined to protect you from the world. He doesn't ever want you to lose that joy, never wants to see you tired or worn out or disappointed. He lives every day with one thought heavy on his mind - he has to keep the sun in the sky for you. Can't ever let you feel the rain.

🌿One day you pull away having smothered him in your usual affections in front of his brothers and Ada and when you see the faintest tint of pink in his cheeks you smile coyly, "my my tommy shelby do my eyes deceive me or is that a blush I see before me?"

Alfie

🐻 Alfie Solomons is a grumbling old eccentric, a tired out, miserable, sharp tongued misery old git and you... you the most lighthearted, melodramatic, delightful girl he has ever met...

🐻Doesn't know what you're so happy about but he knows he'd be a fool to suggest you wipe that giddy little smile off your lips... because that giddy little smile is the prettiest smile he's ever seen and knowing it's all for him makes him feel so hopeful.

🐻 The first time it happened - the gasp, the jump, the gleam in your eyes as you threw yourself into his arms - he was floored by the shock of it... He isn't used to positive attention from women at the best of times, especially not pretty young women like you... Even if you have been sweet on eachother for a little while, even if you have been seeing one another in secret for several weeks...

🐻 So when you saw him across the street at the market and let out a gasp, waving to him from across the road before darting in front of a cart to throw yourself into his arms he almost fell over, wasn't prepared, couldn't believe his eyes... Couldn't believe the speed at which you came barrelling towards him...

🐻You took him completely by surprise but he caught you, just about. The two of you nearly fell over in the bloody road but he caught you, his big arms closed around you, squeezing you just as tightly as you held onto him. He wrapped you up in one of his bear hugs and chuckled at your enthusiasm. He was confused but he wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to hold you nice and tight. To show off to the whole street that you were his girl and you were ecstatic to see him...

🐻 "Now," he chuckled, smiling into your hair as he cradled your head to his chest and pressed a kiss to your temple, "I'm wondering my little ziskeit, what exactly all that was about yeah... You coulda got yourself killed runnin into the road like that and forgive me poppet but I ain't entirely sure I understand what was so exciting to you that you forgot yeah, to use your street smarts yeah?"

🐻 "Sorry Alfie..." You shrugged his worries off so easily, that girlish smile on your lips unfailing, it was almost infuriating and yet, it was far too pretty for him to really get annoyed at you... So a peck on the lips is what you get for being so thoughtless, a "you're lucky you're so sweet y/n... Or I might get cross with you..."

🐻 He is always having to remind you he isn't as young and strong as he once was, that you've got to be careful with him, you've got to slow down... You've got to think of his old and failing body yeah, "I'm fallin apart ziskeit and all these theatrics yeah, they're speeding up the process so just... Take a breath right and settle down..." When he sees your simmering pout he softens again, drops the grumpy old man act and coos to you, "I know poppet I know, you're just happy to see me right... God knows why yeah, god knows why..."

🐻 He's always teasing you about your excitement, reckons it's cause you're young, tells you "not to worry ziskeit, you'll grow out of it..." But he hopes with his whole heart that he's wrong, that you never will lose this bubbling joy.

🐻 And though you think he's simply teasing you, playing that grumpy old man act, he really isn't... Deep down part of you knows he really does wonder why, doesn't understand why you love him the way you do, why you're always so happy to see him, why you don't mind showing the whole world how happy to see him you are...

🐻 And that makes you all the more stubborn to show him that love, to shower him in melodramatic affection every time you see him so that he can't ever forget or try to ignore the fact that whilst you might be his little ray of sunshine, he's the one who puts the sun in your sky.

🐻 He's the only one who can make you that happy, the only one who can spark that level of excitement in you, leave you all head in the clouds giddy whenever you see him but he's also the only one who's able to calm you, able to soothe your excitement and get you to settle down. Knows exactly how to talk to you to get you to come sit in his lap and enjoy a little peace and quiet with him.

🐻 There's this look he gives you when you're beaming at him across the room and he can see that you're bursting at the seams with excitement to be bundled up in his arms, it's this look which says "come here then," but which is stern enough to remind you not to run, remind you to be careful.

🐻 And when he squeezes you in one of his bear hugs and kisses your forehead he talks soft and low, so calmly to you that although he can't settle your ever fast beating heart he can slow those wild thoughts of you down just enough to see you let out a little sigh and nestle into his cosy embrace. "That's better ziskeit, you even remembered to check the road this time see, a good girl, that's what you are darlin..."

🐻 But he does think youre adorable when you get excited and he feels so proud that its him youre excited to see. Honestly it's hard to keep up his grumpy, cold-hearted mobster act with you around relentlessly brightening his day.

Arthur

🍂 Honestly he is completely baffled by you, he just can't get his head around it... what the hell are you so excited about? No one ever looks happy to see him... It really puzzles him and he spends days getting frustrated, trying to get to the bottom of it, asks his brothers whats "the matter" with you, asks his sister who just laughs at him, says "good god Arthur if you can't even get your head around that there really is no hope for you..."

🍂 When Ada does spell it out for him "she likes you you big idiot..." He blushes, gets even more confused and a little embarrassed... That isn't usually how girls show him they like him.. they're usually far more coy, they usually try that sophisticated flirting, they usually want him to buy their drinks and then fuck them senseless in the toilets...

🍂 Then he's flustered wondering if that's what you want him to do to him...

🍂 He'll go bright red and Ada will slap him because she knows exactly which pits his mind has wandered to... "For fuck sake Arthur if you used your head half as much as you use your cock you might not need me to spell these things out for you..."

🍂 The next time he sees you he's nervous, he can't stop wondering if you're going to do that thing you always do again? If you're going to make that noise... The little squeal of excitement you made last time, it was shortly followed by a skip, your eyes wild as you called out to him from across the room. That little giggle of glee when you waved to him and then appeared ever so suddenly by his side...

🍂 And when you do he's unnerved, he's paranoid... He wants his sister to be right but this is just so unusual for him... People are usually fucking terrified of him after all, he's nothing but Tommy Shelby's big brute, the rottweiler as he's often referred to.. how can a girl as blissful as you like him when she's heard the rumours about him... With his reputation how could anyone possible be giddy, head over heels happy to see him?

🍂 So he gets all in his head about it, starts thinking it's some kind of joke, perhaps his brothers or one of the lads set you up to this as a prank, perhaps someone is secretly trying to make a fool of him. The disappointment is tangible and he swallows a lump in his throat as he looks at you again, waving to him from across the room. Are you really playing a trick on him? Is this all to humiliate him?

🍂 When he turns away, hardly even smiles at you you're left confused and a little disappointed. Your heart sinks and you get up to join him at the bar where he's lined up three whiskeys.

🍂 "Are you upset about something Arth?" You ask, your touch on his arm sending sparks of hope through his heart, "you look all gloomy..."

"Aye that's me eh, gloomy... Not like you eh, a little ray of fuckin sunshine ain't ya..." he doesn't smile when he says it, in fact he almost sounds bitter and you bite your lip a little uncertain.

"I'm just.. happy to see you Arthur... I know it's only been a few hours but... Well I kissed you didn't I..." you admit.. you're not exactly embarrassed to admit it but you do feel a little silly now that you're spelling it out to him.

🍂 "Did... Did my..err.. did my brothers put you up to this or somet love?" He's feeling pretty embarrassed to ask it but he wants to know because if you are he wants to stop being teased and if you aren't well, he wants to kiss you actually.

🍂 And when he asks you laugh, your giggle lighting you up, lighting him up too when you shake your head and tell him not to be so daft, when you can't stop giggling at what a silly thought that is. "As if I'd want to help your brother's play a nasty trick on you you big idiot..."

🍂 He can't keep the grin off his face, lighting up immediately, his hands on your hips dragging you in close to him, holding you tight in his hands when he chuckles along and says "eh well in that case then," before planting a rather passionate kiss on your lips.

🍂 Arthur loves to layer the physical affection on thick, even in public, he adores how much you adore him, adores seeing you light up with excitement, adores seeing you happy... But what he adores most, and what he can't get his head around even now, is that it's him that makes you that happy. Him the monster, the rottweiler, that old brute... He's the person who makes you light up like the sun and the night sky all at once. He can't believe his luck.

🍂 He's a very full on, brash man and when you rush to him with excitement he matches your energy the two of you taking over a whole room with your adoration for one another. He really doesn't care about appearing "soft" he'll just sweep you off your feet, snog you to high heaven and dance you round the room...

🍂 Even if the last time he saw you was five minutes ago, the two of you still light up for one another.

John

🌼 John finds your melodrama highly entertaining. He loves to watch you light up whenever you see him. He's a very playful lover and he will match your energy 100%.

🌼 He won't even be taken back the first time it happens. You'll squeal and he'll see the joy in your eyes, one look at you and he'll know what you're going to do before you do it... so when you come running and jumping up into his arms he'll catch you and spin you round in a tight embrace.

🌼 Won't put you down but will keep you wrapped around him in his arms for as long as possible talking to you about your day and telling you all about his... well everything he can tell you.

🌼 However because you were always like this with one another it was very hard for you to tell your true feelings for one another. Your over affectionate friendship was often described by both of you as "like a brother/sister to me..." and so it took you both a long time to realise you were in love. When you did however because you were already so affectionate with one another you fell very easily into your new dynamic. The only difference being that now when you run and jump into his arms he meets you with a deep and affectionate kiss.

🌼 He absolutely adores your excitable nature, he's a big kid at heart and he loves that there's someone else in the world who is carefree and wild enough to wear their emotions on their sleeve the way that you do. His brothers warn him about you telling him to be careful, Tommy even suggests that a girl like you who throws her affections at people so wildly, is perhaps not necessarily loyal, but John defends you to the ends of the earth. And definitely comes close to hitting his brother for suggesting something so improper about you.

🌼 And so although it takes you awhile to win over his family, John trusts and adores you from the very first time he sees that wild ecstatic light sparkling in your eyes. He's always coming up with little nicknames for you, calling you his Little Firecracker, telling you you're like a bottle of champagne. He likes to call you fizzy because you're always bubbly and bouncy with excitement.

🌼 He actually takes a little while to work out that he's the cause of the excitement. Because he doesn't see you when you're not with him (obviously) so he just assumes that the way you are with him is the way you are all the time. When he finds out from Ada that she's never seen you act that way before with anyone, John gets the most smug and wide grin on his lips.

🌼 He's really proud of himself for being able to light you up like that, he thinks your smile is gorgeous so to be at the center of that... Well he can hardly keep that smug grin off his lips.

🌼 And then he won't stop teasing you about that fact, he'll catch you in his arms and then kiss your cheek and then he'll say something cheeky like, "so I heard a rumour flower, that you're never this excited to see anyone else... That true?"

🌼 But you're not exactly embarrassed about your feelings... If you were you would probably exercise some self restraint in public instead of squealing and jumping up to rush to him every time you saw him. So you just tease him back all, "duh John Shelby... You must be daft if you think this is how I treat all my friends... I'm almost offended... What do you take me for?" You'd ask until he was backtracking, actually blushing and apologising because of course he doesn't take you for that kind of girl... He was only trying to wind you up.

🌼 Still he won't stop teasing you and he loves to wind you up by mimicking your little squeal and the way that you flap your hands when you see him sometimes, he never teases you in a malicious way though and he's always quick to reassure you that he's only teasing, that he loves your little "noises"

🌼 You get to know the sound of his footsteps coming down the street or hallway and you're always waiting at the door for him ready to throw your arms around him. You look forward to seeing him everyday and on long days where he's been particularly busy and the two of you have been forced apart from one another for too long you both look forward to snatching the other up in your arms and talking their ear off, telling them all the things you've thought of and saved up in your head just for them.

🌼 And oh my god, where the kids are concerned... Your excitement + John's excitement fuels the children's and they're even more energetic and wild than usual. You make for one affectionate, untameable family...

🌼 One thing John is sure of is that he never wants to see you lose your sunshine streak and so he tries to keep all the darkness in his life as far away from you as possible. He never wants you to be worried for anything and keeps Peaky Business far away from you. He would protect you and the children and your innocence with his life, never wanting to see you lose your innocent, sunny disposition.

🌼 he also treasures the fact that in dark times he always has his ray of sunshine to look to, always has you with your glowing smile, you his little sunflower who thinks the world of him and is proud and content to depend on him... It does him the world of good to have your relentless optimistic kind of love, means he is never able to forget all the goodness in the world because you're always right there ready to push your way through a crowded room to throw yourself into his arms.

Bonnie

🍀 L o v e s it.

🍀 Bonnie wouldn't change you for the world. He thinks you're absolutely magical, the way you light up every time he meets your eyes across the room, the way you're completely unafraid to show how much you adore him, how you're head over heels giddy and in love with him.

🍀It makes him feel so special, makes him feel like he's the center of your whole universe and he is... you tell him that all the time.

🍀 At first he is certainly surprised by it... it's not that he doesn't believe himself to be worthy of your affection or your praise, it's that no one's ever been quite so confident in their adoration of him before... and well, he just wasn't expecting you to come barrelling across the room into his arms like a bloody cannonball...

🍀But your adoration makes him feel so special and he flourishes and thrives with all the attention you give him. So in fact he encourages it, he'll be the one calling out to you across the field, opening his arms for you to come running and jumping into them. He'll be the one sweeping you up off your feet and dancing you around.

🍀He's a very physically affectionate lad and he will take any excuse and opportunity to get his hands on you... Loves to let you tackle him with a hug only to pretend to be taken by surprise, to let the two of you go stumbling back and falling into the grass together, rolling around so that he can pin you down and kiss you, tickle you with your hands above your head.

🍀You're practically inseparable, you're always with him before and after a fight and Tommy Shelby finds it very frustrating that when he wants to talk tactics with his fighter, you're there hanging off Bonnie's arm, kissing his cheek or wrapped up in the lads arms whilst Tommy's trying to tell him how to throw the fight.

🍀You're his biggest cheerleader, shouting and cheering him on during matches.

🍀But wishes youf be a bit more careful about pushing your way through crowds of roudy men so that you can get backstage to see him.

🍀Obce he won a fight and the second the time bell rang you had lept to your feet, crossed into the ring and had thrown your arms around him squeelling delighted and excited into his neck. And he'd been exhausted and sore from the fight but he couldn't do anything but grin and hug you back pleased that everyone could see how excited his beautiful girl got to see him.

Isaiah

🐀 Put aside his charming nature, his brash flirtations for a moment and have a think if you ever saw this lad display actual joy/excitement/affection for anyone before... I think behind that flirtatious nature he's actually quite guarded, a little preoccupied with keeping up appearances...

🐀 So the first time he really experienced your heart on sleeve, flourishing affection, how lackadaisically you let the whole room know how happy you were to see him, he made the mistake of being too cool for you... he hardly even smiled at you, saluted you from across the room despite your beaming smile and how you'd waved him over... he just nodded to you, a small smirk and that deadpan salute.

🐀 It made your high spirits plummet like a stone. You didn't know what to make of it. You'd never been embarrassed to flaunt your feelings before but he made you feel like you should be... that public rejection, his standoffishness, how casual and cool he'd brushed you off, making you second guess whether hed really meant any of the sweet things he'd said to you when you were alone. Made you wonder if you were just another of his one night stands... someone he could forget now he'd conquered you.

🐀And the thing about you is that though you may show your affection and excitement freely, you might feel adoration to the extremes.. you don't let yourself grow wild and dramatic for just anyone. Once someones shunned you like that, once they've left your heart aching and your eyes teary, you don't give them the opportunity to do it again.

🐀 So the next time you see him in public you don't even look at him and when he comes to talk to you you act like you don't know him at all... so now he knows how you felt... now he's sorry and wondering what happened to his little ray of sunshine...

🐀 Too stupid to realise that it's his own cold actions that have lead you both to this moment and when he asks you what's the matter he seems genuinely concerned about you and you can't believe his foolishness. You say plain and simple, "so it's true what they say about you is it... there really is nothing between your ears..." he frowns, confused because a) he doesn't know what you're talking about, he's got a whole face between his ears duh... and b) he can tell that whatever you're implying is spiteful, that you're trying to hurt him.

🐀 "Do all your thinking with..." but when you say that he gets it, the penny drops and he finishes your sentence.

"With me cock..." he smirks but there's no light in his eyes and he begins to understand, realises he's going to have to do a lot of making up to you, a lot to convince you that you're more to him than just a casual fling.

🐀 "For fuck sake love," he sighs when he sees tears in your eyes because your wild emotions have finally gotten the better of you and you don't have the energy to keep this cold mask on. You're not a cold person, you're a person with so many feelings and you feel them in extremes.

🐀 "I was so happy to see you.." you sniffle thinking back to the moment he'd broken your heart with that, "stupid fuckin salute... I wanted a fuckin hug and you fuckin saluted me..."

When you say it he can't keep the smirk off his lips, can't help but chuckle because it sounds ridiculous... as in it makes him sound like a fucking idiot.

🐀 When your tears get thicker and you frown not understanding what's funny he raises his hands in surrender, "I'm laughing at myself mousy, laighin at myself for being such a fuckin idiot..."

🐀 He really does feel bad for having upset you like that, he had no idea how much his actions would effect you but he sees now that you really do wear your heart on your sleeve, that when you were smiling at waving at him it really was because you were that happy to see him.

🐀 So he promises you, he'll never salute you ever again. Takes your hand and kisses your palm, holds it there as he holds your gaze and says it again, "promise, I Isaiah Jesus will Never salute you ever again darlin, never..."

🐀 And though he does still get a little embarrassed from hard to time - because after all it's difficult to look like a hardened criminal when youve got the sweetest girl in the world hanging off your arm - Isaiah keeps his promise. He's never cold to you again.

🐀 He grows particularly fond of your over the top reactions to seeing him, grows to love the sound of your excited little squeak because he knows it means that any second now you'll come skipping into his arms and he'll have his beautiful girl by his side.

🐀He will definitely try to reign you in and pacify you will his cooler forms of affection in public. Not because he doesn't love you just the way you are, he does... he just knows he has a reputation to uphold and that if you're going to be his girl you have a reputation to uphold too. You can't appear too soft or his enemies will eat you alive and use you to get at him

🐀 So although he's never cold he will give you lots of little reminders to be calm, to be cool, lots of "not now darlin, settle down, come here sit in my lap" it gives him an excuse to get his hands on you and keep you close whilst still managing to look cool about it.

🐀 It doesn't half boost his ego and he definitely gets quite smug about it, if Bonnie, Michael o'r Finn try to tease him about how soft he's gone he can always just shrug his shoulders, "sounds like you're jealous lads... Just cause you've never made a lass make those kinda sounds..."

🐀 Has to admit that when he hears that happy little squeak you do, his mind wanders to other activities, can't help thinking about how cute your other noises might sound...

🐀 and when you're in private its a totally different story. Behind closed doors when he's not worried about what others will think of him, when he isn't trying to be the bad boy he will match your energy, he'll be sweeping you off your feet with all the passion in the world.

🐀 Definitely gets a kick out of mimicking your little squeal.

Michael

☘️ Michael was raised with manners, he was raised in a household which gave great weight to the ability to conduct oneself "properly" stiff upper lip, reserved... Women who wait to be addressed before speaking to their superiors etc..

☘️ That's nothing like you... In fact you're quite the opposite. You don't believe in withholding happiness, you don't believe in hiding your joy, your excitement. If someone makes you happy you should tell them, show them every opportunity you have..

☘️ And though Michael may be taken back by your somewhat unignorable adoration for him, there's nothing he can possibly say to change your ways. You love him and you're going to express that freely and sometimes even wildly...

☘️And this does get under his skin, he can't hide his awkwardness, the way you sometimes embarrass him in public when you get so excited you can't contain your delight in seeing him... When you walk into the bakery in the morning and he's there to collect something for his mum, you walk in behind him and as the doorbell rings he recognises your gasp, the squeal of delight...

☘️ he says a silent prayer everytime eyes rolled up to heaven hoping you won't be quite as loud, quite as dramatic as last time. But as always you throw your arms around him, nuzzle into him and squeeze him so tight... So quickly of course that he hasn't even had a chance to put his arms round you, he's just stood there like an awkward plank of wood in your embrace.

☘️ He thinks you make him look silly... Unprofessional, not to be taken seriously... He worries that people will start to get the impression he isn't as tough or as cold as his cousins. That he's an easy target...

☘️ Will absolutely tell you you need to calm down if you're in public, he'll be so stern about it too. He won't exactly shrug you off coldly and he won't dismiss you because that would make the whole thing look even worse, how rude it would be... it would make one impropper act all the more uncooth and embarrassing...

☘️ So he'll always welcome your affection but he won't match your energy, instead he'll wrap his arms around you, hold you tight but not squeezing you to death the way you are him, and when he kisses your cheek he'll speak quietly but commanding.

☘️ "Now now love calm down, don't cause a scene eh... you can tell me all about your day later eh... for now though eh just you hold my hand and keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut..." he'll kiss your hand and then keep a tight grip on you. It's his way of letting you be close to him, letting you feel a little affection in return whilst still remaining proper and polite in company.

☘️ but secretly he loves your dramati, romantic ways. Because that's all it really is isn't it, romantic? You're like one of those melodramatic french girl stereotypes, you can't simply hold your lovers hand, you must throw your arms around him, sigh like a Juliet, hold his face between your two hands and kiss him like you're breathing him in. Like his kisses give you life... And Michael loves that...

☘️ He loves feeling loved. Literally who doesn't.

☘️when he's had a shit day at work, when he feels like no one respects him, it feels so good to come home and have you hit him with all that affection and adoration. Having you waiting at the door ready to throw your arms around him...

☘️It makes him feel completely adored, gives him a purpose, makes him all the more determined always to return home to you every night...

☘️You wait in the window looking out for his arrival home and then you go running down the drive to meet him, shouting his name, your cheeks rosy flushed from your excitement as he stops at the edge of the path, opens his arms for you to jump up into them. It's his favourite part of the day because it makes him feel so special, so important.

☘️ Michaels a generally serious, slightly melancholic boy, there's often a shadow which hangs over him, be it the pressure of living up to the high expectations he has for himself, or the shadow left over from a turbulent upbringing, the traumas he went through as a boy... There's always some kind of weighty preoccupation on his mind but you, you're a little ray of sunshine in a dark and fucked up world and he adores you, you're the light breaking through the cracks and he's so grateful to have found you. Your excitement and your drama are precious to him, he wouldn't ever want you to lose those traits and so he's fiercely defensive of you..

☘️ once at a family meeting you arrived late, rushing to Michael's side, you hadn't seen him all day and were excited to see him so youd thrown your arms around him all "I missed you so much," and Tommy grew impatient. He snapped at you, said "Michael for fuck sake would you control your damn wife..."

☘️ you were of course shocked by Tommy's sudden temper but what shocked you more was there whereas Michael would usually put an arm around you and remind you to settle down, save the excitement until you were alone, this time he stood up, glared at his cousin across the table...

☘️ "Tommy you might be the head of this family but if you ever speak about my wife like that again I swear I will..."

☘️ And suddenly it's you linking your fingers with his tugging him back to you, whispering to him asking him to calm down...

Taglist

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@galactict3a

[vervainandspritz]

HEADCANONS - what would he do to get you in the mood?

Characters: Lenny Miller, Jonathan Crane, Robert Fischer, Jackson Rippner, Raymond Leon, Emmett (TQPII), Tommy Shelby,

A/N: Requested by @lau219 ,y'all feel free to send requests.

~~

Lenny Miller - Leonard is an experienced man, he knows how to get his way around Y/N. Pretty frequently on his way home, he would already have a rough plan on the evening ahead of them. Sometimes grabbing a bouquet of flowers in the nearby florist shop or a bottle of wine. After coming home, Lenny impatiently would find her around the house, searching for any physical contact he could get. "Did you miss me like I missed you?" He'd ask her in that velvety voice, thumbs rubbing up and down on the little crevice of her hips, almost teasing. Sometimes they end up sitting on the couch, Y/N's feet on his lap as she told him all about her day, while Leonard listened and gave her a massage, hands barely visibly moving higher with each stroke. "Poor girl" He liked to tease, closing the proximity once his pants became too tight in a crotch from the simple touches. "Left you all alone here" From that point, he didn't play coy. Knowing all the right spots to touch, he effortlessly kept making her go soft, almost putty in his hands.

~

Jonathan Crane - Jonathan's methods differed depending on the mood he was in. Sometimes days in Arkham were more difficult than the others, and so his patience ran thin. He'd come back home abruptly, peeling the layers of clothing away. The way he'd press his bare, hot chest against Y/N's back, searching closeness he could get only from her. "Was it a bad day?" She would ask, turning around to face him. Sometimes it would all start from the touch as innocent as holding hands, when he'd direct her hand to his cheek, steely blue eyes carefully studying her body covered in the clothes she was wearing. Pulling her closer till their fronts would connect, and she'd feel the proof of his urgency. His own hands landing on her back, massaging the skin and pulling her against his chest while simultaneously hiding his face in her neck. The way she'd feel him so intensely slightly trembling, connected with shivering delightfully from how his hot breath bounced off her skin could come off as symptoms of fear to a mind so great in his very major.

~

Robert Fischer - Robert's favourite way of showing affection would come on display as soon as he made it through the door. He thoroughly enjoyed the ability Y/N taught him - talking. Using words of affection was one of the greatest joys for both of them, after all the time it took for him to get used to doing so. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Missed you so much" He spoke softly into her ear, the vulnerable tone of his voice showing nothing but honesty. Y/N immediately mirrored his mood most of the time, growing warm in his embrace. In a couple swift movements he'd gain access to her skin, caressing it delicately while simultaneously holding her gaze. "I need you" he'd confess quietly, leaning to capture her lips in a kiss so needy, Y/N could barely breathe.

~

Jackson Rippner - Jackson was anything but patient when this urge would hit. It wouldn't matter whether she was busy or not, his hot hands would grasp her hips, often pressing her against something to gain control. Leaning down to graze his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck, taking in the scent that never failed to make him hard. "Jackson, I'm busy" Y/N would sometimes manage to stutter out, feeling the heavy weight of his body against her back. A quiet chuckle would push past his lips, as he pressed harder. "What can possibly be more important than taking care of your man?" His voice would come off arrogant, often purposely. Knowing how well it worked on working her up. His roughed up hands would move higher, barely brushing against her breasts to come resting on her throat, not squeezing just yet. "Feel what you do to me, sweetheart?" He'd growl, nearly on the edge of just... Bending her over the desk and taking what he wanted. Giving her throat a little squeeze, he'd quickly reach between her legs, getting a hold of her. Jackson's lips would stretch into an arrogant grin as he'd feel the wetness beneath her panties. Lightly rubbing against her covered slit, he'd lean closer to whisper. "So wet and needy. I'll give you what you need, but you owe me one, hmm?"

~

Raymond Leon - Raymond wasn't one to ask, not to.. talk too much. He liked to use the advantage of how easily bothered Y/N would get seeing him like that. "What are you doing?" he'd ask like it mattered, leaning on the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His scent and warmth would be enough to make her notice the close proximity, causing Y/N to squeeze her thighs together lightly. Not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze, as he'd keep looking at her, knowing well she could feel him watching. Brushing his arm lightly against hers, he'd move around pretending to be busy before finally having her cornered. She'd be breathing heavily, eyes taking greedily the sight of his bare, freckles skin and muscles on his torso. Sooner or later his hands would end up on her face, pulling her closer. Their noses brushing against each other as he'd smile, looking deeply into her eyes. "What got you so bothered, honey?" Raymond would ask, because even though he hated talking, he secretly loved hearing her talk.

~

Emmett - His favourite thing to get Y/N in the mood would always be kissing. He'd lean in for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle to keep her in place. The deep groans leaving his lips would echo in her stomach, making the heat pool to the lower side of it. "So beautiful" He'd murmur in a deep voice, keeping her lips occupied with his own while slowly touching and grasping every inch of her skin he could get to. "Emmett–" Y/N's whiny voice would never cease to make him lightheaded as he moved lower, kissing a trail they both knew by heart already. "Keep saying it, baby. Keep saying my name" His voice was rougher with lust as he kept her legs apart, kissing her stomach and hips. She had a hard time staying still, squirming needily in his grasp. "Come here.." He cooed, looking her in the eyes as his face moved closer to where she needed him the most. "Let me take care of you" Emmett whispered, as his face leaned down, diving between her legs.

~

Tommy Shelby - Thomas loved the control he secretly held over Y/N when it comes to her needs. Being so fluent in directing them with his touch or affection. The way she'd move around, doing her own thing while pretending to not feel how he looked at her. "Come here, darling" He'd eventually call out, patting his thigh. He'd use the close proximity to look her in the eyes, encouraging to talk about her whereabouts when he was at work, while petting her thighs lightly. He touched and felt, eyes following the tender lines of her body beneath the clothes she wore. He'd proceed to touch caress her cheeks, pulling her closer as he murmured how beautiful she was. Y/N could never remain unaffected under his rough fingers and soft words, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "You're my good girl, aren't you? Always so good for me." He purred, feeling how fast her heartbeat became under the weight of his seductive words. He'd gently rub her inner thighs, before parting her legs and letting his hands claim what was his Swallowing every cry that would come out of her mouth not longer after, as she writhed on his lap in orgasmic spasms.

[multific]

Little You-s and I-s

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy deal with the changes that come with your pregnancy.

Your pregnancy changed you a lot.

You became more sensitive to smell for example.

One evening, Thomas arrived home from the bar, and as soon as you caught the smell of drinks and smoke on him, you rushed to the bathroom.

Then there was the incident when you craved fish but before you could cook it, the smell of it caught your nose and again, rushing for the toilet you went.

Thomas was incredibly happy when you told him the news, having his own family with you was always a goal of his.

What he didn't like however is just how sensitive you became and one thing that set it off easily was his cigarettes.

Thomas smoked a lot, so for him to not be able to do that in his own home was a bit challenging, but he still found ways to smoke one or two in the furthest part of the garden. Even then, sometimes the wind carried the smell right back to you.

"No smoking and no drinks!" yelled Tom at John as he pulled out a cigarette.

"What? Why?"

"My wife is pregnant, she is sensitive to the smell."

"Oooh, it got that bad huh?" asked John as you entered the room with a tray, on the tray there were some cookies and tea.

"I'll appreciate if you can hold yourself from smoking just this once John, the smell of it just..."

"No problem, thank you for the tea."

"I'll leave you to it." you smiled at your husband who nodded before he turned to John, talking about business.

When lunchtime was approaching, both John and Tom found themselves in the kitchen where you were currently chopping up some carrots and crying.

"Darling, I'm sure the carrots don't mind us eating them."

"Tell that to the headless chicken in the oven, Thomas!" you quickly said back making both men take a step back, Thomas should have known not to argue with you.

Both headed into the dining room instead.

"Is pregnancy supposed to affect a woman this much?" asked John in a hushed tone.

"I think so? I'm no expert John. Arthur has children, he might know more."

"She is glowing though. She was crying but she still looked like a Goddess."

"Can't argue with that, John. But keep your wandering eyes to yourself, she is my wife."

"Does she always cry during cooking?"

"As of late, yes. Yesterday, she made salmon, cried her heart about as she was talking about the poor little fishies the one she cooked left behind. But then this morning, she cried when she made salad. Saying the potatoes didn't deserve to die this way."

"So, she is sensitive to smell, cries when the cooks, can't get worse than that, I'd say."

"She talks back like I have never heard before."

"Okay, I was wrong it can get worse. You mean to tell me, that my lovely shy sister-in-law talks back? The one who didn't dare to tell you she didn't like the ring you gave her?" Thomas made a face at John's confession.

"She didn't like the ring?"

"No, she said she wished you would have given her something more simple. But she didn't want to tell you because she would hurt your feelings."

"Well now, with my child under her heart, she is not afraid to talk from her heart. The other day she told me I should dress better, apparently my suits make me look old. Then she wanted to dance and when I said I don't have the energy she complained that I never have when it comes to her. This is true sadly, however, the latest one... oh Johnny, my boy just before you arrived, she told me to ask you not to smoke and when I told her that you will be free to do as you please, the look. That look I know well, it's the look of someone who is about to murder. She said I either tell you to not smoke or-" Thomas stopped as he felt a shiver run down his spine, both men turned towards the door only to find you with the food in your hands on a tray. 

You approached them and placed the food in front of them. The air was cold, John swore he could have cut the tension with a spoon.

"I told him he either asks you not to smoke or I will seriously question his position as the leader, as all leaders should be listened to and respected. And if he is not able to do so, then I shall take his place. So, you are not allowed to smoke John." John nodded, not even daring to look at you.

"Th-Thank you for the meal." John said.

"I know I can be a handful since I'm with child, I feel the change in myself, the doctor said it was hormones to blame, but I seriously hope you do not plan on talking our dear Johnny's ears off with my silliness, Dear Thomas. He doesn't have to know everything."

"Of course, Love. I apologize." Thomas grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it.

John left soon after lunch and you were now washing the dishes as Tom was reading in the living room.

Once all dishes were done, you headed into the living room, a soft song playing as he was reading in his favourite armchair. He put the paper down when he saw you approach and you sat on his lap, your head on his chest as he continued to read with one hand as the other was now around you, comforting you.

"Am I really that annoying that you talk to John about it?"

"You are not annoying, Love. Odd, sometimes yes, but that isn't due to pregnancy." you giggled a little.

You were fine with 'odd'.

"I try to control it, you know?"

"Oh, God, is this the controlled version? I'm scared now for the uncontrolled one."

"It will get worse, I'm warning you because the doctor said last week that this will only grow as the baby does."

"It's alright, your body will change, I can take a few harsh words, I took bullets after all." he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"Do you want a girl or a boy?" you asked with a rather quiet voice.

"I don't really care, as long as both of you are safe and healthy."

"So you want a boy, got it." Tommy laughed you looked up at him, into his blue eyes. "I just want them to have your eyes."

"What if they don't?"

"Then we try until we have a child who does." you smiled at him as he looked at you.

"Just how many children my Missus want?"

"Oh, as many as my lovely husband would give me. We have a big house, it would be nice to have some life in it. Little you-s and I-s running around."

"I would like that. Honestly, I would like that very much. But let's see how you do after this one, then we will talk."

You hummed before you placed another kiss on his lips, letting him return to his paper as comfortable silence fell.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart @v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports  @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa   @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine @capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow @crazzyter  @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79  @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​ @liveforkarljacobs @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @paola-carter​ @stunkbiggu @violet-19999​ @praline357​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[calummss]

Cillian Murphy Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include

masterlist

the age gap i’m thinking of is 15-17 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!

a/n: i got inspo from @wouldpollyapprove . so credit for this idea goes to her

i feel like you would meet cillian randomly

at a cafe when there were no free seats left; the cinema, both alone because you’re introverted; asking around for pen, something like that

literally straight out of a movie

he liked that you weren’t up in his business or knew straight away who he was—which you did but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable

you exchanged numbers and went from there

you started off as friends and hung out a lot

but it got you thinking if you were more than friends; if he could see you as a potential girlfriend

so you took the risk

and it payed off

cillian felt the same way about you

both of you decided that it should be kept private for loads of reasons

one being that the media liked to trash age gap couple

when you introduced him to your family they were instantly smitten by him and it ability to hold conversations, how kind and smart he is

they were skeptical of the age gap and talked to you about it. it took them some weeks to get used to it but they liked him nonetheless and knew that he made you very happy

his parents and the contrary didn’t care about the age gap at all, never mentioned it or repeated your age in a judgy way, instead cheersed your wine glass with a ‘welcome to the family’

you moved into his place a year and a half after you start dating

you’re job is flexible so you can work from/in dublin

despite cillian’s fame you’re still able to go on dates

you’ve been very good at hiding from the paparazzi

when the press do get a hold on cillian’s private life and publish a picture of the two of you, the fans go wild

they’re having a field day talking about your age gap

which makes you a little insecure but there’s nothing that cillian can’t comfort you through

cillian’s publicist releases a statement so you can enjoy the piece and quiet again

the topic died down anyways

especially when they caught glimpses of the two of you around town, fully engaged with one another, love written all over you

also can i just say that your first christmas together is the best thing ever??

you two standing in the kitchen, preparing the food in the warm christmas lights of the house, warm air around you two, all whilst slow dancing in a burning room by john mayer is playing

when cillian’s away for work you facetime each other every second night and fall asleep without hanging up

he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever

sometimes you visit him on set

and stare at him in awe (well he is hot)

cillian and you are so in love and everyone can see it

[zablife]

Headcanon Improv Game-Tommy

How to Play: Based on this GIF, help me build a set of headcanons for Tommy meeting his s/o and what their relationship is like (the more specific the better). You can add them in the comments or message me. When I have enough to build a story, I'll post them all together. I'll go first...

•You first met Tommy Shelby when you were made to hold a gun to his head.

•You hoped you wouldn't be commanded to pull the trigger bc he was too beautiful to kill.

•He looks at you raising his eyebrow with that annoying cocking look of his. (credit @look-at-the-soul)

•Not even bothered or worried by the weapon pointed at his head he politely requests to have a smoke. (credit @look-at-the-soul)

•You agree as you stall for time hoping he has an ace up his sleeve, you've heard how he dealt with Billy Kimber and the Billy Boys back in 1919. (credit @evita-shelby)

•You hand him your lighter along with a cigarette and he noticed the slight tremor in your hand as you do (credit @evita-shelby)

•She speaks as little as possible, and when she does she hides an accent/ dialect (credit @notyour-valentine)

•She is dressed in the most bland clothing, with no accessories or individuality so when Tommy tries to deduce anything about her, he fails. It almost looks like a costume or a disguise. (credit @notyour-valentine)

•The people who gave her the order rush her to get over with it, so she takes a deep breath and raises her gun to his temple again. (credit @peakyswritings)

•She moves her gaze to the wall on the opposite side of the room, not being able to look at Tommy while she cocks the gun. (credit @peakyswritings)

• There’s a moment when Y/N gets a bit distracted and Tommy uses it to turn her hand around and makes her loose the gun (without hurting her) because he’s a gentleman… and that’s when he faces her inches away and asks there’s no need to point a gun at him, she just has to ask him… ☺️ (credit @look-at-the-soul)

[slut4thebroken]

Dad/stepdad finding your vibrator hcs

Tommy Shelby, Cillian Murphy, Raymond Leon, Jackson Rippner, Lenny Miller

(All accurate to the universe’s time period)

Tommy Shelby - To say he was shocked would be an understatement. At first he was concerned— were you suffering from hysteria and he didn’t even know? But then he remembered that vibrators have very recently started being used for more… personal activities. He confronted you about it anyway though. You blushed and stuttered out “I- I can explain..” and he found it amusing at first, but he kept his expression stern. It was when you broke down crying that he suddenly softened. “I’m sorry, daddy. Please don’t be mad..” You cried out, making him pull you into a hug and shush you, trying to calm you down. “I’m not mad, love.” He said gently. “Just… tell me what it’s for.. I promise I won’t be mad.” You looked up at him with wide, teary eyes to see if he was being truthful. When you found no sign of a lie, you whispered that you use it for self pleasure, which he already knew. He just wanted to hear you say it. He sighed and shook his head. “You think you’re old enough to be playing with adult toys like this?” He asked, and you muttered out an excuse of how you just turned 18. “Maybe so, but I still don’t think it’s appropriate at your age.” That triggered something inside of you and you whined about how you’re an adult and you can do what you want, acting far too bratty for his liking. “Is that so? An adult, are you?” He had a condescending smirk on his lips and he pretended to think it over, then scoffed a laugh. “Fine then. If you’re an adult I guess I should start punishing you like one.” His tone was noticeably darker now. “Get on the fucking bed.”

Cillian Murphy - He knew he should’ve ignored it, respected your privacy… But he just kept thinking about you using it. The pretty sounds you probably made, the way your cheeks probably became flushed… But then he started thinking about you using it with someone.. Did you have a secret boyfriend? Or were you exploring your sexuality all on your own… Deciding to do the responsible thing, he started planning out when and how to talk to you about all of these new things you may be feeling as a developing young woman. One day he sat down with you, gently told you what he knew and reassured you when you immediately became embarrassed. He told you that it was natural and nothing to be ashamed of… “A young girl like yourself needs someone to guide her, teach her what’s right and how to be safe.” He said softly, brushing your hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “As your father, I’m afraid that role falls on me.” He tried not to seem too excited by the idea. Standing up, he walked over to where the toy was hidden and brought it back over to the bed, handing it to you. “I need to make sure you’re using it the right way. I’d hate for my little girl to get hurt.” He frowned, watching as your eyes widened. He didn’t let you protest as he helped removed your clothes and laid you down on the bed. “Now show me exactly how you’re using it, sweetheart.”

Raymond Leon - At first, he almost mistook it for something else, but when he did a double take, he realized what it actually was. A rush of emotions hit him, the main ones being anger, disappointment, and arousal. Were you turning into a whore? Did he do something wrong when raising you? When you came home one day, he was waiting on your bed, the vibrator next to him. You were immediately hit with a wave of embarrassment and humiliation- good. You started trying to defend yourself, saying it’s not what it looks like. “Don’t try to play innocent.” He scoffed. “Get over my fucking lap.” His voice was so harsh, it made you tear up as you begged him not to. So he roughly grabbed you and pulled you over his thighs, then flipped your skirt up. He spanked you until his hand was burning and there were little welts on your ass. You were sobbing loudly, the pain becoming too much, and with the way you kept squirming and rubbing against his cock, he eventually got hard. He forced the vibrator between your legs, making you apologize for your whorish behavior as you came over and over again until he was satisfied. “Get on your knees.” He demanded and you slid off his lap to the floor, still sobbing and almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. “There are consequences for acting like a whore.” He spat, quickly opening his pants to free his cock, making your breath catch in your throat. “So, be a good girl for once and finish what you started.”

Jackson Rippner - He had been trying so hard to be a good father figure- god knows you desperately needed it. But as soon as he found a vibrator hidden away (very poorly) in one of your drawers, he just lost all control. He managed to wait a few days until it was only the two of you in the house, then confronted you. This wasn’t his proudest moment… but he didn’t regret it. “What would your mom think, huh?” He asked, subtly threatening you. “I would hate to have to tell her… but maybe we can work something out.” He said coyly, enjoying the way you blushed and squirmed and pouted. He made you beg for it, for his cock and for him to not tell your mom. Once he had you underneath him with his cock fully sheathed in your little cunt, he practically plowed into you until you cried. “This is your own fault.” He hissed. “The only reason this is happening is because you teased me by leaving it somewhere for me to find.” You sobbed harder and shook your head, unable to do anything else to protest. “You’ve been a fucking tease since day one with those tiny little shirts and the skirts that barely cover your ass… I’m fucking sick of it.” He growled, getting more worked up. “From now on, you’re gonna let me use this cunt whenever I want, or I’ll tell your mom about your little secret, and how you seduced me and begged me to fuck you.”

Lenny Miller - You should’ve known better than to think you could hide things from him. Just like you should’ve known better than to think you could lie to him. But when he confronted you, you denied it. Which he figured you might do… That’s why he set up a camera in your room, hidden in a vent but angled perfectly at your bed. The quality was not the best, but it was good enough to still obviously show what you were doing. He can’t even count the amount of times he came to that footage of you. When you tried lying, he sighed and reached for the remote, already having the tape ready in the tv. The second it turned on, you lips parted in shock and your face paled, then a very dark blush took over your cheeks. “There are a few different ways this can go. Option one: the camera stays up and you can keep the vibrator. Option two: I punish you, then confiscate it, but I’ll take down the camera.” He paused, lowering his voice into something darker and thick with arousal. “Or option three: you show me just how sorry you are for owning something like this. I’m still going to punish you, but if you do a good enough job begging, I might just let you keep it.” He said coyly. He waited impatiently for you to choose and when you couldn’t get any words out, still glancing at the tv, he chose for you. He spanked you until you cried and made you suck his cock to prove you were sorry, then forced you to ride him while you begged for his forgiveness.

[peaky1wh0re]

You can be my daddy

[graveyard-stray]

Tommy Shelby - NSFW alphabet

(This whole thing is for Tommy in a serious relationship with Fem!reader. I’m sure Tommy with just a hookup would be very different!)

Word count: 1351

A/N: You asked and you shall receive! You guys have gone crazy for my Tommy stuff and I really appreciate it! Thank you for all the support!

Reminder my inbox is open so if you have any requests for Tommy or for other characters- let me know! (A link to who I write for can be found in my master list)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Tommy is gonna lay down, pull you into his side, and lay there with you while he smokes. He wants to hold you of course but he also gotta feed his horrible habit. You guys might chat a bit but really he just wants to feel you against him (because he loves you) and relax.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is a bit self conscious about his own body because it’s gone through so much, he would never admit it but he really hates seeing his scars that are all over- they just remind him of the war.

For you, he’s a big tits guy. Big or small he doesn’t care he just loves your boobs. He will kiss them, suck them, bite them, grab them, he doesn’t care.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to cum inside, there is something so intimate to him about getting to fill you up and it really turns him on, know that your all his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

When he’s not with you he literally can’t cum. He has tried to jerk off when your not around but it just isn’t the same without you. He would never admit it though because it makes him seem soft.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s pretty experienced, he’s been with a handful of prostitutes and he has had other girlfriends before- plus he is a pretty sexual person so he’s definitely pretty skilled.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary. He likes being able to see your face when you cum and he’s a simple guy. Although he also likes doggy cause he can grab your hair or your hips real easily.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s a very serious man. Especially in bed, like sure he can be soft and intimate but definitely not goofy. his mind is focused on pleasing you (and himself) no time for jokes. Plus does he even know how to joke? Not really.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s pretty groomed. He keeps most of his body clean shaven as he doesn’t like being super hairy. But the parts he doesn’t shave (like his pubes) he keeps groomed short and neatly. He’s gotta stay classy especially for you <3

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends, if he is in a bad mood it’s gonna be less intimate and more rough and intense. And if it’s a special day or he’s in a particularly good mood it will be intimate, he will praise you and tell you how he loves you while he finishes.

On the regular though it can be pretty average intimacy wise, a bit rough with some praise here and there.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He used to get off an average amount but ever since meeting you he literally can’t. He’s gotten so used to your hands or your mouth or your pussy he literally can’t get off without you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding kink for sure.

Definitely hair pulling, and marking. He loves to see the marks he leaves on you specifically in places no one else sees- the sight is only for him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He is a pretty classy dude a lot of the time (or atleast he tries to be) so a lot of the time it’s just in your home in private. But a few times he will fuck you in the private room at the garrison, when it’s just you and him before or after a meeting.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves seeing you all dolled up to go to events with him. Something about you looking so beautiful and being his arm candy is so domestic and it really gets him going- expect to have a bit of a late night after those formal events.

He also just has a pretty high natural sex drive so really just seeing you makes him wanna fuck.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not be submissive, he just honestly can’t be. And I can’t see him wanting to do any butt stuff.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He is a big fan of receiving. He loves feeling you gag around his cock and he will rest his hands in your hair and push you down further. Something about feeling your throat tighten around him drives him WILD.

He also likes giving though, he thinks you taste delicious and will eat you out like he’s a man who hasn’t eaten in years.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He definitely prefers it fast and rough, but when he is feeling quite lovey and emotional it will be more slow and intimate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He is a fan of a quickie. When he has to go to some meeting or deal with business but just can’t resist you, he will quickly take you on the couch and then leave as fast as he can (of course after you also cum. He has class)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He is down to experiment a bit but if it doesn’t SOUND enjoyable to him then he won’t be open to try it. He isn’t too risky except maybe trying out being mean to you in bed when he is in an angry mood.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He has decent stamina and can go about 3-4 rounds depending on what you are doing, but of course that smoking has caught up to him so eventually he will get tired and need to catch his breathe. When he is actually fucking you he lasts pretty long and is able to please you and make sure you finish, usually before he does.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own toys, sees no reason to. You only need him and he only needs you.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves when you tease him, with your short dresses and see through panties underneath, or when you grab his thigh, right by his crotch, under the dinner table.

He also likes to tease you here and there, especially if your being a brat.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He will let out some softer groans and moans during it, when he cums he will get a bit louder with more groans and either some praise or degradation (depending on the mood)

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

It takes him a bit but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let you be on top a bit, letting you ride him and maybe be a bit more commanding. It’s not his favorite thing but he does think it’s hot when your being bossy.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s got a pretty good dick honestly. Not giant but good. About a 6 or 7 inch (hard) which is a bit above average.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s got a pretty high sex drive but he also is fine if he’s horny and not having any sex, he’s mature and doesn’t need sex but he wants it pretty often.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t sleep a lot as is so I can’t imagine he would quickly fall asleep after sex. He would probably lay awake for a while just holding you or watching you as you slept.