Hey, I Wanted To Ask For A Tommy X Fem Reader Where She Is In Her 20s And The Total Oposite, Like That

hey, i wanted to ask for a tommy x fem reader where she is in her 20s and the total oposite, like that bubbly bimbo girl that people forget that actually have a brain and is smart just for her looks. she likes tommy because he never doubted her potential and brains. so she wants him, he pulls his sad peaky boy drama and girlboss has to literally make him jealous to the point where he fucks her. (or just confess his love in an agressive way).

i love your imagines anyway.

I LOVED THIS REQUEST. And I may have fallen in love with the reader... Maybe even enough to want a second part...

Thank you so much for sending this in and for waiting <3

Hope you enjoy it! XO

Rated: Explicit - Making out, detailed description of female pleasure, possessive Tommy, Virgin reader

Finding a decent job in Small Heath was challenging.

You’d grown up with a thick coating of anxiety that wrapped around you tightly. You were smart, but the pressure of situations would leave words tangled in your mouth, your stomach would twist up, face flushing, and more often than not you would say something embarrassing. Then suddenly you had a tight body and heavy breasts that only made things worse. The girls got even more mean, and the boys were relentless.

You were excellent in maths, sciences, writing & reading, you spoke four languages, to survive here looking like you did you had plenty of street smarts, and an excellent sense of humor. Yet everyone just saw a slow girl in a whores body. So while waiting for a better opportunity you were helping your father with his restaurant.

You met Mr. Shelby properly for the first time at the horse races.

Your father always kept an ear out about the gossip and you would often strategize the information he’d given you. So far you’d never lost a bet. I guess the Shelby family noticed that your father had started coming out on top regularly, as you noticed them watching you the whole afternoon.

After the race your father had you go to the gambling tables. Shelby eyes followed you the whole night. It must look very strange, your plump father flirting with the barmaid while his daughter worked the floor amongst men.

You knew from the second time you’d noticed Thomas and his brothers staring that anything you collected today would likely be torn from your hands. Which was a shame, with the tips you were allowed to keep at work and the take home from weekends like this you could almost move out on your own.

You decided that enough was enough, the man next to you was starting to sit a bit to close for your liking. You finished the round collecting your chips, and the men at the table looked at you like they would give up just about anything to fuck you then throw your body in the cut.

Perfect time to make an exit.

You handed your collection of chips to your father to cash in, then moved down the bar to where Mr. Shelby was leaning with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

You were momentarily grateful that his brothers had moved further down. Confronting him on his own seemed the slightest bit better if he was on his own.

“Mr. Shelby” You said in a friendly voice, despite your heart racing and your palms getting sweaty. He nodded at you waiting for you to speak. His eyes were a piercing blue and he held himself in a way that made you start to shrink on the inside.

“I have noticed you noticing me all day, is there a reason for that?” You were pretty sure that you were in big trouble and it was better to just get it over with.

“We have business.” He said in a casual tone. Still looking you over.

“Should we discuss it?” You asked timidly. Please don't take me out to the alley.

“Not here, come by the betting shop tomorrow morning.”

“Should I bring my father?” Please say yes. Don't make me go there alone.

“No need, you're clearly the person I need to talk to.” He looked the slightest bit amused, eyes searching your face. You could already feel the thick blush covering your skin.

“Alright.” You gave him a polite smile, unsure of what to say or do. He only downed his drink and placed the glass back down on the bar.

“Tomorrow, betting shop, 8am, don't be late.” He winked at you before walking over and talking to his brothers. They both turned to look you over, eyes heavy with speculation. One of them said something earning him a hearty slap to the back of the head before the three of them got up and exited the busy club.

“Ready for home, love?” Your father asked, causing you to jump.

“Yes! Let's get out of here.” You went home without telling your father about tomorrow's meeting. There is no way on earth he would send you in there alone to meet with a man like that.

You thought about it as you laid awake in your bed. You knew that it would probably be some typical mob meeting where they put your fingers in a drawer making you promise not to bet or gamble on their turf again. Your father didn't need to see that, and he made it clear he wanted your fingers knowing you were the brains behind your fathers winnings.

You just hoped it was your fingers he wanted. A beating, a few bruises or a split lip was all fine and good. But you had a feeling in the pit of your stomach that he might have other ideas of getting the message across.

Eventually after a night of unease and spiralling thoughts you got yourself ready for the day. You had things to focus on which calmed your nerves slightly. Your father wouldn't be up for another hour so you wrote a note saying you were going out.

You were grateful that the shop didn't open till 9, it meant you didn't have to deal with the men that normally lined up. You knocked at the door.

“FUCK OFF! WE OPEN AT 9” A angry female voice called out from behind the worn wooden door.

“I HAVE A MEETING WITH MR. SHELBY AT 8” You shouted back. The door swung open and a lady dragged you into the shop by your arm.

“Good heavens woman, you want the whole world to know your business?!” She left you standing in the entryway and floated back to her desk. She lit a cigarette and looked you over.

“I didn't think whores worked this early in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed and you took a deep breath. It was too early in the morning for this petty shit.

“I wouldn't know.” She scoffed and Thomas walked into the space from the back door.

“You're on time!” He said motioning you towards his office.

“Always am” You said with the brightest smile you could manage.

You sat across from his desk in a comfortable leather chair. Happy that your fingers were nowhere near the drawers.

“So Miss L/N. Big winnings yesterday at the race.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “Then you cleaned out two rounds of poker.” You shivered under the weight of his heavy gaze.

“Yes.” You literally watched him watch you do it so there was no point in denying anything.

“Like the past three race days.” His voice was dark and should send millions of alarm bells off in your head but you couldn't help but focus on his mouth. You slapped yourself mentally.

“That would be correct.” You said with a steady voice.

“How?”

You explained almost everything. You wouldn't give up your method of card counting or the mental math processes behind any other gambling you did. But you explained how you had put the pieces together about which horse was going to win. Explained what your father heard on the street, mixed with what you heard the men talk about at his restaurant, then what you knew of the local gangs and the politics of Small Heath.

“So most things just follow a pattern, you just need to know where to look. And listen I guess.” He watched you closely the whole time, his eyes were sharp like he was trying to catch you in a lie.

“And you just happen to be good at looking and listening?”

“I would say I do a good job, yeah” You gave a little nod.

“What else are you good at?” Your nose crinkled at his words, you’d heard similar things out of peoples mouths countless times and most of them had sexual intentions. He seemed to catch your reaction, and almost seemed the slightest bit empathetic. “Are you good at maths? What are you doing for work right now?” He clarified smoothly.

“You already know I’m excellent at maths, but I am also good with language arts, sciences, and I am fluent in English, Russian, and German. I currently bartend at my fathers restaurant three nights a week.” You also spoke Romani but figured you’d keep that in your back pocket as you knew they were gypsy. If this became a regular interrogation they would probably speak it behind your back.

“Why do you work for your father?”

“Would you believe me if I told you this was the smoothest conversation I’d had with someone not related to me?”

“Yes” He almost smiled. You shrugged.

“Why German and Russian?” He asked, you didn't blame him for asking, they weren't romantic languages and they certainly were not welcome in today's political climate.

“My grandmother was Russian and I picked it up when I was little before she passed.”

“And German?” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly and you sighed.

“It’s embarrassing.” You felt your face get hot but he only raised an eyebrow prompting you to continue. “There was a book series I wanted to read and it was only in German, so a friend taught me in school.”

“Lie” He said quickly.

You let out another sigh and you could feel he was enjoying this.

“I didn't have friends in school. I taught myself so I could read the books. I’m currently working on picking up French.” You answered sheepishly and he gave you a small smile that hit you deep in your stomach.

He didn't know that German was the only common language your father didn't know, and the books were filthy enough to have you sent to a nunnery for the rest of your life.

“Your father was in France?”

“Yes.”

“Your mother?”

“Died of a sickness while he was away.” You answered tightly, he didn't need to know more about that. No one did. He poured you a glass of whiskey and you accepted it with a thanks.

“You kept the books and the restaurant while he was gone.”

“Yes”

“How old are you?”

“20” His gaze turned darker somehow and you flushed again. “Is that a problem?”

“No”

He looked you over like he wasn't sure what to think of you. After a long moment you realized this was the nicest conversation you’d had with someone outside of your family. He listened to you and kept his eyes on your face, like he actually cared about what you had to say. Different feelings made their way into your body as you considered the dangerous man in front of you.

“Work for me. Be here at 8am, Tuesday to Saturday. I’ll pay you the going rate for a bookkeeper but I'll double it in three months if you use your talents for some extra work on the side.”

You were shocked but your face fell at the last sentence.

“Talents being the ones we discussed” He said in a pointed tone.

Your face lit back up.

“None of this is legal is it?” You said with a twinkle that caught him off guard.

“We are working towards it.” He said sternly, but you only let out a laugh. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Done.” You reached out your hand which seemed to amuse him. He shook it and you felt electricity run through your skin. You wanted this job just as much as you wanted to know him.

After that the woman who opened the door for you was instructed to show you everything about the place. Which led to a yelling match and some kind of special family meeting.

You came back the next day to be properly introduced to the family. The boys took the piss like they always did whenever you thought you deserved some respect. Thomas seemed to have said something to have kept them relatively in check.

The women were mean like always. Polly, the woman who answered the door yesterday, was not impressed with your employment, but you were fairly sure you could win her over with time. Esme seemed to distance herself from you and that was fine enough. You came here to work, not make friends.

You just smiled at them brightly, too excited at the opportunity for their emotions to get in the way of it.

Quality of life improved immediately. People still thought the same shit about you but no one would say it to your face out of fear of your employers. Money was fucking good. You soon had your own little apartment close to the shop. Your father wasn't happy about the arrangement but he was happy to see you doing better.

Once you’d proved yourself useful to Polly she became the closest thing to a friend you’d had. Esme took a little bit longer but you assumed it had more to do with the way John looked at you in passing. Eventually she came around and even apologized to you.

Friends. A job. All you needed was Tommy.

You assumed being brought into the darker parts of the job, the feelings for him would lessen. But it only got worse.

You couldn't help it. The man looked at you like you were a secret weapon. He brought you to sit in on business meetings to observe men, then go on your way digging shit up on them. You cracked coded letters, caught snitches, rigged races.

You spent a considerable amount of time with him. You helped with the books, managed his schedule, and attended various stake outs. He always showed up with a look of amazement, that on top of all of it you still had time to slack off reading your novels, and all those little passing looks went straight to your heart.

You were desperate for him to make a move, heck every man in the bloody city had been after your ass since you were 11. Now that you want the attention you couldn't have it.

Dressing yourself up wasn’t practical with the type of side work you did. So you just tried to impress him. Useless facts, jokes to try and make him laugh, you tried to cheer him up when he was in a mood, always trying to outdo yourself at the tasks he gave you.

You did the same for his family, always trying to be helpful, you took especially good care of the little ones. Finn regularly came to you for advice. It all made you hopeful that maybe you could fit in here permanently.

He always gave you praise and the occasional smile, but never a desperate confession, or an act of passion. He wouldn't let other men touch you in his presence, something you thought was unbearably hot. But you speculated it could also be that he thought of you as a little sister…. Only one way to find out.

After a stealthy discussion with Polly about how to attract men, she suggested that if you were interested in someone you should try to force his hand by making jealous.

You thought about what you knew about romance from your books and observing people and in theory it should work. Or it would break your heart, at this point it was a necessary gamble.

There was a Peaky get-together at the Garrison to celebrate a rather difficult company achievement. Normally you always wore black because people found it off putting but tonight you pulled out all the stops. You wore lipstick and a red dress. It was equal parts terrifying and liberating.

Initiate operation: Jealous

You walked into the pub and everyone seemed to stop and look you over. You tried not to let it turn your face red, and hung your coat up in a way you hoped looked graceful. The night picked up and the dress seemed to work, people came over and chatted to you and you tried to laugh and seem approachable.

It was horrible, you felt his eyes on you the whole time, and yet he hadn't swooped in and stolen you away. Eventually you could feel him standing at the bar behind you as you spoke to some guy, who was talking your ear off about chemical reactions as if you couldn’t run a drug lab on your own. You didn’t know how you got on to this topic but you nodded along politely.

It was fine till it wasn't fine. The man grabbed your arm and Tommy immediately turned around and removed it.

“Please excuse us, she’s needed elsewhere.” Tommy said curtly, causing the man to turn deathly pale. He grabbed your arm moving you towards the exit, quickly snatching your coat and tucking it around your shoulders.

He took you outside and paused for a second, but didn’t take his hand off your arm. He let out an angry sigh like he was conflicted.

“Problem?” You asked in what you hoped was a flirty voice. He gave you a pained expression.

“Have a drink with me?” He asked in a rough tone.

“Sure” You expected him to take you back inside but instead he pulled you back to the betting shop. Your heart was going at record speed and you desperately tried to play it cool.

He unlocked the door and took you into his office. His hand never left your arm but his mind was somewhere far away. He placed you in the usual chair you sat in and handed you a glass of whiskey. He perched on the edge of his desk, almost close enough to touch.

“I have some interesting intel.” He refused to look at you, suddenly captivated by the wall paper like he’d never actually noticed it. You appreciated this because you fought hard to keep your face composed as your heart broke slowly in your chest.

“What’s needed?” You asked softly, also suddenly captivated by the wall paper.

“You need to understand that I’m too old for you, too dangerous, and it's never going to happen.” You felt like the words caused him physical pain despite his cold composure.

“Interesting.” You thought about what Polly had told you about his wife that had passed.

“Not terribly.” He stated.

“You’re older than me, but not any smarter, I’m already tied into every decision you make. I think it will happen if I want it to”

He gave you one of those rare smiles.

“But if you rather me go, I still might be able to catch Mr. Science down at the pub.” You stood up and watched his amusement fade into something darker.

“People will talk.” He warned. You met his eyes and felt the torment pulsing through him.

“They already do.” You took a step closer, finally eliminating the space between the two of you.

“Fuck!” He snapped before grabbing your face roughly and kissing you. It was slow, soft and you felt the restraint running taught in his body. But you’d been restrained your whole life. You trusted Tommy for the right reasons, you trusted for the first time. You were touch starved, and soft wasn't going to cut it.

So you pushed a little to see what it would get you.

You pressed your body closer to him, and he stood up, tilting your face up, deepening the kiss. You pressed your chest up against his, the sensation of his hard chest against your sore breasts made you moan into his mouth. He took that as an opening to slide his tongue into your mouth. You tried to mirror his movements and wanted to pick this up quickly like you did everything else. You wanted to be good for him.

He broke the kiss and gave you a heated but amused look.

“You haven't done this before.” It wasn't a question and your face flushed in embarrassment.

“I haven't liked anyone before.” you breathed as he held your head there, looking up at him.

“We should stop.” He whispered.

“You're not exactly the best lover” You stated. You watched his smile come back, eyebrows raised questioningly. “You haven't asked me once what I would like.”

“Hmm that’s what would make me a good lover, eh?” His hand on the back of your neck tightened, as he moved his other to stroke his fingers down your neck. This was a pleasure you didn't think existed in real life. Your body was on fire, every part of it suddenly too tight.

“Yes.” The word just barely escaped your lips.

“What would you like, love?” He whispered in your ear, his fingers brushed along your collarbone.

“Fuck me on your desk.” Your tone was just above begging but not by much. He scoffed.

“No. I'm not going to fuck you tonight, certainly not over my desk.” Your body tensed up, you didn’t think you would survive if this ended. You needed him, you needed some kind of relief from this heat. You just didn't know how to get there.

“I will, however, go back to yours and see where things go?”

You nodded eagerly and he observed you in a way that stung your heart. He saw something he wanted, you hoped it was more than your body.

Your apartment was not fuck your boss ready. You let him in and rushed into your room. After a 10 second panic clean, most of the embarrassing stuff had been relocated to your closet.

You came back and saw him observing your space quietly. Books and notes were piled over every surface. It was very clean, just very busy. You had a lot you wanted to learn and only a short life to know it all.

Finally his eyes fell on you, your body lit up, and your heart was pounding again. He quickly closed the distance between you. His mouth was on yours again but this kiss was filled with a different type of need.

Slowly you were wearing him down.

He pressed you against the wall in the kitchen. His strong hands traveled the length of your torso eventually coming to rest on your ass. With a tense squeeze you felt him lift you slightly and your body responded by jumping up. Legs wrapped tightly around his toned body. This gave you access to grind up against him, lighting a whole wave of pleasure through you. You moaned and he left your mouth to bite his way down your neck, each one sending shocks through your system. Your breathing was heavy and everything was hazy. He held you tightly and moved you towards your room bumping into various piles of books causing you to laugh loudly. You hoped you hadn't ruined the mood, but he only threw you down on your bed.

Things were about to get serious. Suddenly the nerves hit you. You’d only read about this a million times in books, but now it was real. As if knowing he settled down on top of you, kissing you with a tenderness that made you want to cry out. Suddenly you didn't care if you weren't good at it, you just needed it.

His hands ran up the insides of your legs, finally coming up to rest just before your pussy.

“You're not wearing anything.” His fingers grazed across your wetness and your whole body tensed.

“Nope.”

“You really wanted your first time to be bent over my desk?”

This was not the time for questions. But his hands kept up their exploration sliding through your wet folds so you allowed it.

“I just really wanted you. Didn't really care where.” You said it through gritted teeth as you tried to find a way to settle into the sensations.

“All of this just to get my attention.”

You nodded while taking ragged breaths. He circled your clit and your hips bucked.

“That means that another man touched you, while you were completely indecent.” His other hand placed a smack on the back of your thigh and you let out a small scream of pleasure. This was too much but nowhere near enough. “No one touches you but me. Understood?”

You couldn’t find words, the pause earned you another small slap. That seemed to be a form of punishment, too bad it only did the opposite.

“What would you do if they did?” You gasped and he growled.

“I’d kill them.” He responded darkly and you felt his fingers slide inside you. You let out a little cry at the stretch. “This is mine.” His fingers curled inside you causing you to scream out.

“I’m yours.” You said and he picked up his pace quickly rewarding you with an orgasm. It hit you like a truck, suddenly and completely. Your whole body tensed and your legs squeezed shut around his waist trapping his fingers where you needed him. Eventually it was too much and you tried to squirm away.

“Too much.” You choked and he stopped, you moved so you were laying properly on the small bed. He just took you in, flushed and strug out for him.

“Go out with me tomorrow.” He asked and you enjoyed the way the words came out of his mouth, like they were heavy. His blue eyes blown out.

“Only if you stay tonight.” You said and you watched him try to compose himself but failed.

“I’ll stay. But I’m doing this properly. I don’t want this to be a quick fuck.” Your heart grew and twisted at his words. Tears stung your eyes. Even if you had the words you wouldn't be able to get them out.

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

Tommy’s POV

She was chaos and madness wrapped up in a tight little body. It took everything inside me to stop. Hold back. To court her properly.

Here she was ready to give me everything when no one had ever given her the decency of friendship. Or a nice date.

She’d been labeled as a whore without ever having kissed anyone.

She couldn't even get a fucking job, yet she could have won the war in half the time had she been running things. She was smart, too fucking smart, and awkward as all hell. Even her house was a chaotic storm of knowledge, probably filled with the answers to the universe and cures for various illnesses.

She spent her day bringing my family tea and their favorite snacks when they were sad. Hours of horrible jokes till I’d finally give her a smile, just to watch her face light up in triumph.

As much as I wanted to rip that dress off and have my way with her, I wanted her to have a nice romance like the ones she spent all day reading.

I would make sure she only fell in love once, so I would bloody well make every last bit of it special.

She spent the night wrapped in my arms where I’d want her to be every night till I died.

_____

Tag List: @tommydoesntpayforsuits

Where the daisies grow

Pairing : Tommy Shelby x You

Warnings: Angst, description of injuries(mention of blood and cuts)

Summary: as stated in the request below. @luvlyencanto

I wanted to ask a story about: "having Polly Gray as the only mother figure". The reader would be a girl who was abandoned at an Orphanage (hell on earth) she only has bad memories of there. However, Polly and the Shelbys came as a light in her life, the reader is be between 8-9 years old when she's brought to them. And even though she was "adopted", she was always loved, raised and welcomed like a Shelby. Polly kind of adopted her as her daughter, making sure she was always dressed and having what she wanted, and she even bestowed the name Shelby on her. She was a Shelby, because if anyone tried to disrespect or harm her, they would have to deal with the wrath of them all. Ada, Arthur, John and Finn treat her like a sister and Tommy... well, maybe he could have some romantic interest in her??

A/n: let me know what you think :)

He was 16 when the 9 year old child was left in his aunt's care one day. He hadn't even known until he walked in to his aunt's house one evening to see a young girl in his aunt's kitchen.

Tommy had become protective of his siblings during the time that his mother had further grown unstable and his father had become an abusive alcoholic, which made him cautious of the child that had showed up in his aunt's house with no warning.

It was later that Aunt Pol told her leery nephew who was staring at the girl hunched in her chair "Edith dropped her here from the orphanage"

"why?" Tommy shot back, not allowing his gaze to falter from you.

"Because the orphanage treated her horribly knowing who her father was, Thomas" Pol said frustrated," I tried fighting her father to let me care for her after her mother died but he wouldn't let me, let the orphanage drag her away before he left for the country side"

"Why'd the orphanage take her when her father was alive?"

Pol grew more and more impatient at her nephews incessant questions "Because he paid them off to do so"

"makes no sense" Tommy turned away leaving his aunt in the hallway.

You remembered the orphanage in all its unforgiving transparency. The harsh words uttered to you by the caregivers still echoed in your head on dark snowy days. You were 13 now. Having lived with Pol for almost 4 years you'd become one of the Shelby's and were treated as such.

The Shelby siblings came around occasionally, and then more frequently until one day they moved in with Polly. Which you soon learned was because Martha Shelby had drowned in the cut.

Tommy was quiet; dealing with her death and the baby she left behind. Arthur would sometimes snap out of anger, Ada would spend her time doing generally anything to occupy her mind and John wasn't home often.

Then they began to recover to a certain extent; they laughed a little more than before. Tommy laughed, a lot. And often it was because of John.

On your 13th birthday Tommy got you flowers- daisies, you learned they were, not knowing what else to get you that he could afford. The rest of the family did their best to make your birthday special with the little money they could afford to spend at their leisure and you cherished every single moment.

Tommy and Ada occasionally spoke of their mother, and never of their father, which you realized was one of the common grounds you had with them- your very strong hatred for your fathers.

You'd been accepted completely as one of them by each of the siblings. Finn seemed like a little brother to you and you'd grown protective of the little boy.

Pol taught you to sew and Arthur would teach you new games, though you felt he was trying to busy his mind in doing so. John took you on walks and Tommy accompanied you to book shops and sat while you read since you couldn't afford to buy a book. He'd grumble a lot of course about how boring you were for reading. Ada was the older sister you never had. The one you talked to about everything.

At 17 you sobbed, chest heaving and hiccups erupting from your mouth, you clung to Tommy last of all, not wanting to let go. You'd refused to let go of John and Arthur- hoping maybe if you held on to them tight enough they wouldn't go.

But Aunt Pol, shedding tears herself, softly asked you to hug Tommy as well and bid them goodbye.

So you did. And Tommy held your shaking body as you cried into his coat and begged him to stay.

"It'll be alright" he had a few tears rolling down his cheeks as well.

You tearfully watched the Shelby boys except Finn board the train bound to take them, to what you were sure, was their ultimate demise.

Ada busied herself with Finn, Pol was trying to make enough money for the four of you and you- you spent your time sobbing, staring at walls, and watching the door, hoping any of the 3 boys would come barging in, telling you the war was over and they were home for good.

But the war wasn't over, no it had been 2 long years, and you heard enough women wailing in the streets, in their homes, in the shops and flower fields, for their husbands, brothers, sons, uncles and fathers who had become casualties, to know better.

Everyone knew that the families of the dead soldiers received letters, informing them their loved ones were 'killed in action'. And you dreaded those 3 words.

2 years turned in to 3 and then 4, and you feared if maybe they were never coming home at all, maybe the letters were on their way to inform you of it.

And then you heard it one day.

Cheers on the streets outside Pol's door. Cheers of the war being over.

And you froze. Your heart, you were sure had stopped. Turning to look at Ada who'd been sitting next to you was looking right back at you, eyes wide.

"D-"Pol threw open the door, making Finn drop Arthur's hat he'd given his baby brother the day he left.

Ada rushed to the door with you following closely

"The war- its bloody over" Pol sobbed, thick tears streaming down her face. Finn immediately rushed into his aunts arms, and Ada hugged you, crying.

You stood there in shock and wrapped your arms around Ada, wondering when the boys would be home.

"Pol" you finally rasped out " do you suppose they'll be back soon then? the 3 of them?"

Polly looked up, Finn still clinging to her "we haven't got a letter like so many, I suppose they should be home soon then" She let out a sob and then "all 3 of them" she smiled.

So you waited. And on your 22nd birthday, you wished yourself a happy birthday in the dark of the house and downed your glass of liquor before blowing out the candle.

But you didn't fall asleep.

It had been 4 months since the war was over, neither of the boys were home and there wasn't a letter either.

Maybe, you swallowed the lump in your throat, maybe there were so many casualties that the boys were just lost among them. Too many bodies to identify maybe, they were just laying somewhere-gone buried under the rest of the hundreds of dead soldiers.

letting out a shaky breath you turned over, covered your ears and willed yourself to sleep.

"We come home from war and she fuckin sleeps"

Shooting up from your cot, you turned around.

You leapt into John's arms sending him stumbling slightly as you latched on to him like you did when they were leaving. And you cried. And cried harder still when you saw Arthur behind John and nearly fell over your own feet in a hurry to hug him.

You were afraid, that you'd wake up and this would all be a dream. John chuckled behind you, you didn't have to see him to know it was forced.

Arthur hugged you tighter as well. John slipped out to where Pol and Ada were, whom he'd already seen.

"Arthur" your voice wavered " Where's Tommy?" you legs felt shaky at the thought of the fact that he probably never returned.

"He's outside, with Pol and Ada" Arthur led you out to where Tom stood, bickering with a sobbing Finn.

Looking up at the sound of your footsteps he asked Finn to give him a minute and hurried over to you.

"Tommy" you whispered hugging him tighter than ever. You'd convinced yourself he was going to tell you he had to go back, so you gripped him tightly.

Pol ushered everyone into the house, wiping her face. She placed down cups for tea and lit a cigarette between her lips.

Finn was now in John's arms and Ada poked his side telling him he was too big to be carried around now.

Sipping on their tea, everyone was sat around the old, wobbly wooden table.

You constantly kept placing your hand on Arthur or Tommy, who were sat on either side of you. They both knew you were trying to assure yourself that they were really there. Sipping his tea, Tommy watched you quietly, as a shell of a man he once was, at the woman you had become.

Tommy's horse trotted next to him quietly. The streets hadn't changed all that much since they'd left, Tommy noted.

Moreover the betting shop was doing well. It cost him a lot of nights and early mornings but he was only grateful for the nights he had something to occupy his mind.

He tucked the flowers in his coat and tightened his grip on the horse's leash.

You didn't see him home often. Occasionally he'd come home for a cup of tea, but otherwise he remained busy at the shop or the Garrison.

You knew the war had changed all 3 men. You knew they'd seen unspeakable things and it made your heart ache that you couldn't do much to help them.

It didn't go unnoticed by you that Tommy had changed the most by far. He didn't laugh- rarely even smiled. Arthur and John tried to use humor to cope where Tommy used silence. He hardly ever spoke to anyone anymore. When he did though, he spoke only of the business he'd indulged in weeks after returning.

He'd grown more observant, careful and on edge. He would watch you converse with Finn from the doorway and then quietly slip away. He came home late most nights, you knew this.

But the boys were trying. There were parts of them that died at the war, that was buried under the dirt and blood in the trenches. And here all the way back at small heath, they were barely surviving with whatever they had left in them.

Still as time went on, the business grew more chaotic and dangerous. Pol had now begun working in the betting shop and Ada would disappear for hours each day and you didn't bother asking where.

You, like Ada, weren't allowed to work with the rest of the Shelby's in the shop, so you occupied yourself at home with the little that you could. You took to teaching Finn and looking after him, occasionally you'd walk to the book shop and wander, until one day the owner offered you a job there. Having consulted Polly, the two of you agreed it would be good for you, so you'd begun spending most of your days working at the book shop.

Though not too many people bought anything you didn't care since it gave you time to read.

Closing the door, you walked past the kitchen table to pour yourself a glass of water. You weren't expecting anyone to be home soon since it was still evening and everyone usually returned towards the night. And Finn was with Pol so you had the house to yourself.

Before you could sit though, you heard the front door open. Looking up you leaned a little to get a better view of the door way "how are you home so early Tommy?"

Slipping his coat off and hanging it, he turned to face you pulling the flowers out of the coat he just hung "came to give you this"

Walking over to where you were seated he handed you the bouquet of flowers.

White Gerbera daisies. The ones you knew grew at the edge of small heath. The same ones he gave you when you turned 13.

You let out a breath and smiled slightly "I'd forgot I was turning 23 today" you chair scraped the hardwood floor when you got up to place the flowers in water.

"How come?" He leaned against the kitchen top, watching you.

"Don't know, Doesn't mean as much as it did when I was younger" Tommy hummed but said nothing " I suppose it was a exciting getting to grow older when I was young, now it's just a another year wasted and gone"

"wasted"

"yeah" you sighed "wasted. I haven't done anything with myself or helped anyone or changed anything. So wasted it is."

He wouldn't tell you. Not yet. Maybe not ever. It wouldn't be appropriate would it? He was almost 9 years older to you. He couldn't tell you.

In the following months he would linger around at home more often. When Ada had Carl and Freddie died, you helped Ada. You were the only one she spoke to every now and then and the only one she would meet with, because you weren't a Shelby by blood. Tommy would ask you how she was doing, and you'd tell him knowing he probably already knew.

You and Tommy spent time together more frequently, after he hired you as his assistant because he no longer felt you were safe working at the book shop, after what had transpired between the peaky blinders and their enemies.

Of course in the process of convincing you Tommy lost the leisure of getting to spend time alone though he didn't mind spending time with you, since you agreed to work with him if he swore to spend time with you more often.

You feared that you'd made your feelings too obvious to him with your 'non-negotiable precondition' but luckily he never caught on.

Polly did however, and rolled her eyes "And I thought you were too smart to fall for him" she said once Tommy had left the house.

Your face grew hot but you feigned ignorance " Don't know what your talking about" mumbling you got up and put your cup away.

"it would do you good next time to be more careful" you were walking home after having worked with Tommy the entire day. But you weren't sure if you were even moving at all leave alone walking.

The ground was rough underneath your sore palm. The dirt and water of the ground seeped into your cut palm as you tried to stable yourself. All you felt was pain. Everywhere. So much pain.

Your left eye was swollen shut, your nose, you think, was bleeding. You weren't sure but you felt something wet dripping down your lip and you assumed it was blood because you didn't have the strength to lift either of your hands to check.

You couldn't breathe, it hurt and you had to take shallow breaths to avoid the pain shooting across your chest. And when you thought it was finally over, your jaw was gripped. Tightly, roughly, straining your wounded lip.

"Tell Tommy it's not over" you couldn't see who it was. Your right eye was blurry and you sure as hell couldn't open your left eye. Your jaw was let go off and your already pounding head thud against the wall.

Letting out a small whimper you let your arm fall from your lap and slouched even further against the wall behind you.

"John, have you seen Y/n?" Tommy had come in sometime back and looked for you wanting to ask you about the letters he'd had you send out that afternoon.

"No, thought she was with you or Pol?" John put down the cigarette to look at this older brother.

Shaking his head, Tommy didn't say a word instead he grabbed his gun off of the table where he placed it only a second ago and slammed the door shut behind him meaning to go to the betting shop to see if you'd gone back for some reason.

You'd left almost an hour before him, Pol was still at the shop with Arthur and he hoped you were there too. He hated the idea of you out this late at night, but you threatened to snip his coats if he persisted on the idea of you being accompanied home.

His heart pounded and his fingers were turning numb from the cold. He hadn't taken his overcoat when he left in a hurry to find you. All he had was the suit coat he had on which didn't help much against the harsh cold and the rain that was beginning to pour.

"Pol?" he called from the door way of the shop not bothering to go in if you weren't there.

"What is it Tommy?" Pol asked, a pile of papers in hand

"Is Y/n here?" His eyes took in the surrounding hastily hoping to spot you.

"She's not here, didn't she leave an hour ago?"

"Yeah, she's not home either- ARTHUR" upon hearing his younger brother practically bellowing his name, Arthur almost choked on his liquor before quickly swallowing and rushing over to Tommy.

"Come with me" Tommy spoke quickly "Pol, send John out to look for her at the cut" Arthur followed Tommy and Pol rushed to close the betting shop.

It shouldn't have taken you more than 15 minutes to cross over two streets and get home, Tommy worried. He was breathing heavy and he walked frantically across the two streets and came into view of there home.

Arthur kept squinting, walking into alleyways to see if you were there, and every time he did, Tommy grew more and more uneasy. If you were spotted in any alleyway it would involve you being hurt in some way, and Tommy could barely cope with just the thought of you slightly bruised he didn't want to think of anything worse than that.

It was only when they were at the last damp and dark alleyway right before their home, that Tommy heard it; a small thud. Barely audible over the pouring rain Tommy heard it loud and clear. There were a couple of people walking past who paid it no attention.

Arthur and Tommy immediately ran over into the alley and Arthur watched his younger brother fall to his knees in front of your body.

Arthur couldn't tell if you were even alive or not. You white shirt was drenched in blood, your eye swollen shut, your arms had cuts all over. Your lip was cut deep and looked swollen and your ear was split from the impact of someone hitting your head on the ground. You weren't moving.

Tommy was kneeling next to you desperately feeling for a pulse, the water and blood off the floor seeped into his pants where he kneeled and he wanted to throw up.

He'd seen a lot, but nothing made him shiver the way the sight of you limp, bleeding, cut up, beaten and bruised against the wall in the dark cold alleyway did.

His hands shaking, Tommy slipped off the coat and wrapped it around your shoulders then took his hat and put it on your damp hair to shield you from the rain.

"Arthur" Tommy shivered " bring the car around- now"

Arthur took off immediately towards the house to get the car parked in front.

"Come on love, please" he whispered slipping one arm around your shoulder and the other under your knees, picking you up he walked towards where Arthur was bringing the car.

It took everything in Tommy to not give in to the quivering in his legs. He carefully sat you in the back of the car and then slipped in beside you himself. And Arthur sped to the hospital the moment the door was shut.

Tommy kept caressing your hair. Arthur watched him do so, his breath shaking as well. He knew his younger brother was doing so because if you weren't going to make it and you were in fact slipping away in his arms as it seemed, then Tommy wanted you to know you weren't alone in the ghastly cold alleyway anymore, and were now in his arms; safe. He wanted you to know you weren't dying alone. He wanted you to know it would be alright.

Easing the Tension - Tommy Shelby X Fem!Reader

Prompt - "Why're you looking at me like that?"

For @runnning-outof-time and her epic Milestone Challenge!

Warning - enemies to lovers / smut

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton @jardinsecos @bitchwhytho @gypsy-girl-08 @queenofkings1212 @look-at-the-soul

He was always a dick as a teenager. The biggest dick you knew. All the way through your childhood he relentlessly teased you, mocked you, gave you weird looks as he walked past you. A dick, yes. A handsome, enigmatic, charismatic dick who had a hold over you he'd never know.

But since he returned from France, you noticed a change. A dramatic change. Not all the time, and certainly not when he was around his family, but when he was alone in his office at the betting shop on Watery Lane? You noticed.

You started working there when the boys left for war. Polly Gray was looking for someone to help look after the books. You were skilled in numeracy thanks to your father being a mathematics teacher, and you were one of the few people, especially women, in Small Heath who could read and write.

You'd proven your worth, and successfully earned the trust of the Shelby boys when they returned from war six months ago. Tommy, despite not being the eldest, had taken a strong lead in the family. Owed in part to his leadership in France, outranking both brothers. Arthur wasn't happy, but even he couldn't deny his younger brother was a born leader.

And you? You found yourself looking at Tommy more often. He was different. He no longer teased you or mocked you. He no longer gave you weird looks. In fact, he didn't look at you at all. He didn't look at anyone anymore. Not properly, anyway. It was as though there were walls up, barriers. Blockades that not even Polly could penetrate. He'd built a fortress around himself, and no one had the keys to unlock it.

You slept at their house on numerous occasions due to Polly's penchant for getting you drunk on a Friday night, listening to the gramophone while the two of you and Ada danced like idiots around the living room. The boys would be at the Garrison, and would stumble home at midnight before collapsing into their beds. Your bed was in a tiny box room next to Tommy's, and you often heard him wake, screaming, two or three times in the night. Despite how he'd treated you before the war, you wished you had the courage to go into his room. Hold him, calm him... But you never did. You just lay there, listening to him, waiting for the quiet so you knew he was sleeping again.

Only to wake another hour later.

And again an hour after that.

His room had an outside wall one side, and your bedroom the other. No one else would've heard him. And he would have no idea that you knew, either.

************************************************************

In the early hours of Saturday morning, you realised sleep was impossible. A combination of the whiskey last night and the disturbed sleep listening to Tommy's nightmares.

You sat at the kitchen table alone with a coffee around 3:30am. The rest of the house was still fast asleep.

Tommy entered the kitchen, but he didn't say anything. Walked past you to the cabinet and poured a whiskey for himself. Silently sipping it as he stood at the counter, his back to you. You couldn't take your eyes off him, the stiffness of his back, the rigidness of his shoulders. The tension simply radiated from him.

"Why're you looking at me like that?" He asked, suddenly, still not turning around.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare..."

"You always stare at me. You look at me like I'm some kind of wounded dog waiting to be put out of my misery."

You didn't answer, but you didn't stop staring either. You couldn't.

He turned around, and his eyes locked with yours.

"You're too tense to sleep, aren't you?" you asked, he didn't respond.

"Sit down, Thomas," you stood up and offered him your seat. He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion but you weren't letting up so he sat down. You stretched your hands and fingers, before gently placing them either side of his neck. He flinched at the contact, before your voice shhed him and your fingers began to press into his shoulders.

After a few minutes, you felt him relax. Your hands rolled over his shoulders and neck, squeezing and kneading the flesh. His head lolled forwards, allowing you easier access to his muscles at the bottom of his neck.

"It's easier if you remove your shirt?" You commented, a slight smile on your lips as he lifted the garment over his head. Your fingers went back to work, kneading and pressing everywhere you felt a knot.

"Scars and freckles, interesting combination," you smirked. His shoulders jumped as he chuckled, soon replaced by a deep groan as you found an exceptionally sized knot in his spine, unravelling it with your knuckles easily.

"Your hands are fucking magical," he leaned forward and your hands moved lower, almost to his waist. He was now leaning over the table, his head resting in his arms as your hands squeezed his flesh expertly. After thirty minutes, he was breathing easier, calmer, he could've been asleep... You stopped and taking a seat next to him stroked over his cheek gently. His eyes fluttered open, and they found yours again. The walls were down, and you saw them properly for the first time. An innocent blue replacing their usual intense darkness.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked quietly, still stroking his cheek. He shook his head.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" He nodded, and you took his hand. He let you lead the way, and you opened his bedroom door. Heading inside, he climbed in and you went to place the covers over him before he stopped you.

"Stay with me..." He whispered. You went to protest, but the gentle grip on your wrist told you it was a battle you'd lose anyway. You climbed into the single bed next to him and he opened his arm for you to lay on, the pillow too small for two heads. The feel of his hand stroking your arm, his lips against your forehead, the heat of his breath against your skin. You found yourself looking upwards at him, and after a few moments of visible contemplation on his face, he kissed you. A soft, gentle kiss that you found surprisingly easy to reciprocate.

His hand held your cheek tenderly as the kiss deepened. His tongue gently sweeping across yours. Your body was moving of its own accord now, and you were suddenly on top of him. Straddled over his mid section, you could feel the hard length of his arousal pressed between your legs.

"YN..."

"Shh, don't talk, just lay back. Let me ease the last of that tension away..."

Your nightgown already hitched over your waist, you reached down and slid his shorts down. Sliding your panties to one side, you rolled your folds over his shaft. Watching his face contort in pleasure, your wet folds glided over him easily. Reaching between you, you stood his cock upright and sank onto him slowly. His hands moved to your waist, trying to take control, but you pulled them away.

"Not tonight," you gasped, feeling him fill you completely. Buried deep inside your wet walls.

Your hips rolled back and forth, a steady, gentle but firm rhythm, and you had no intention of speeding up.

"That's it... Relax Tommy..."

"One day I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything," he said, rolling his nose affectionately over yours.

He was silent other than his breathing - heavy but calm. He didn't move, allowing you full control. His hands holding yours as you used them for leverage. Your head fell back as his cock found that sweet spot inside, and you focussed your hip movements to keep it hitting that same spot over and over. Not too fast, just a gentle rocking motion that had his abdomen clenching, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you letting you know he was close.

"Not yet Tommy, not just yet.. I'll let you cum, just hold on for me..."

"I always have..."

You looked down and met his gaze again, his eyes moving from your face, down your still clothed body, and back up again. The flickering of his eyelids had you coming undone, his mouth hanging open slightly, deep breaths from his lips. You felt your orgasm building, and rocked your hips just a little quicker.

"Cum for me Tommy..."

He nodded, and his eyes squeezed shut, a low groan leaving his chest, his toned stomach clenching, his fingers locked with yours. His eyes flew open suddenly with the force of his release, locked onto yours as you came with him, his seed filling you sending you over into the abyss.

Once you'd calmed, and his cock finished pulsing, you climbed off him and lay back at his side, his arm over your shoulders again as you snuggled into his chest. Your fingers tracing over his chest, watching the rise and fall of it as his breathing calmed.

"You really are magical..." He smiled, kissing the top of you r head.

"Why?"

"I don't hear the shovels..."

You looked up at him and stroked his cheek, kissing his lips tenderly.

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who noticed."

A Shelby Mistress - Masterlist (Complete)

Summary: A plan is made. A deal is struck....and you are unable to escape the consequences. Then Thomas Shelby intervenes and you are left wondering if you should be grateful or concerned. You never know when it comes to the Shelbys. 

Series Warnings: Language, mentions of canon-typical violence, smut (18+ only), Tommy being emotionally constipated yet soft, brief domestic violence, Polly is queen, fluff and humor.

Word count: 20k

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. | 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | after watching you mother his boys, tommy is intent on making you the mother of his real children. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | tommy shelby (peaky blinders) x fem!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 3.3k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (MDNI!), raging breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex (please use a condom), tommy has A Thing about you being pregnant 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | i have no excuse other than Horny For Cillian Murphy (can u blame me lmao) i wrote this so quick it made my head spin // taglist blog: @cremebruhleewrites

“Well, God, Finn, that’s the third time this week!”

The lad smiled at you, convinced that, if he were sweet enough, he would be out of trouble. Both of the knees of his pants were ripped and scuffed thin, and you could even see the fresh stitches from two days ago, when he had last come home with his pants all ripped up. “Sorry,” he said, and he fell down into one of the overstuffed seats in your living room. As much as you tried to keep a nice home, your husband’s brothers and employees always managed to find a way to foul it all up one way or another. You tsk-ed as you fixed the doily atop the chair that Finn had disturbed, and you called, “Tommy, love? Bring me my sewing kit, won’t you?”

Somewhere upstairs, you heard your husband shout “Just a moment!”, and you tugged up your sleeves to your elbows as you settled yourself on the floor in front of Finn.

“Make yourself useful and read me the paper,” you grumbled. “Or turn on the radio. Something productive instead of sitting on your arse.”

“I could just take my pants off and leave them to you while I go actually do something,” Finn offered, and you heard Tommy’s footsteps coming down the stairs. Quickly, he entered the room and passed you your carpetbag of sewing supplies, and he boxed at Finn’s ear.

“Like hell you’re stripping down in front of my woman,” Tommy said. “Not even your girl wants to see your skivvies.”

“Well, fuck you,” Finn said, and he hissed as Tommy gave him another wallop on the ear. “Oi! She curses worse than that!”

“Mind your fucking manners around the missus,” Tommy said, and he snatched up the newspaper from beside Finn. You deftly threaded your needle and pulled Finn’s leg over to you, and you heard Tommy light a cigarette as he sat down in his chair.

“Stop twitching your leg,” you mumbled as you began your work, and Finn fussed with his cigarette as you fell into the pattern of sewing. As much as you acted like you hated having to mother the entire Shelby clan, you actually loved it. You loved how every man needed you for something different and expressed their affection for you in different ways; sure, there was Aunt Pol for that feminine touch, but there seemed to be something special about you. During the year that Tommy had courted and subsequently married you, all the boys had started up a running joke of calling you Mother; mainly because you treated every single man as if they were your son.You patched up all their injuries and mended their clothing, you made them tea or poured them a drink when they visited the house, you gave them the spare bedroom if they had nowhere to sleep, and it could be guaranteed that someone would join you at the dinner table every single night, hounding after your warm, hard-cooked dinner. You wouldn’t trade the title for anything in the world (especially when they called you Mother Shelby or The Missus), but you felt a little off whenever they did call you that. Only because it had been a year, and you still hadn’t succeeded in giving Tommy a baby.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Almost every day, Tommy would fuck you hard and fill you up, but nothing had succeeded yet. You had tried just about every trick you could think of, every old wives’ tale in the book— eating a lemon, putting a pillow under your hips, having sex only in the morning— and you were starting to wonder if there was something wrong with you. Surely, after a year, something should have happened, even on a statistical level. It just didn’t make sense. In fact, the absence of a baby was starting to eat at you. You had voiced this to your husband, and he, in his wisdom, had told you that it would happen eventually and not to worry. “It’ll happen when it needs to,” he told you, kissing your shoulder. “Don’t fret, love.”

Tommy read the newspaper and smoked his cigarette as you worked, but your mind stayed solely with him and the delicious memory of that morning. He had woken you up with two fingers in your cunt and, when he noticed that you were awake, he had sunk down and buried his head between your thighs until your legs were shaking around his head. The sun was hardly coming through the lace curtains by the time that Tommy had sunk his cock into you, and the low light made his sweaty chest glisten as he hauled your legs over his shoulders and fucked you hard enough to make the headboard rattle against the wall. “C’mon,” he huffed, slapping your ass and pawing at your tits. “Cum, honey, cum for me, make a big fuckin’ mess in my cock.” You did as he had told you, as you always did, and Tommy had wasted no time in filling you up, just as he always did. He fell down onto his back next to you and huffed out a few labored breaths as you rested your cheek against his burning chest, and he cast his big blue eyes down on you when you sighed. “Hey,” Tommy whispered, his voice cracking, as rough as sandpaper, and he lifted your chin up with his finger. “I know what you’re thinking, love. I feel good about this one.”

You nodded quietly, and your finger lightly traced the scars that had healed and leveled on his chest. “If it’s a girl, I’d like to name her Edith,” you whispered. “It’s a lovely name.”

“Edith Violet,” Tommy nodded. “Edith Violet Shelby… What a fuckin’ top-notch name. She’d be a spoiled little thing, I’d be sure of it. And if it’s a boy?”

“Thomas,” you replied. “I’d name him after you.”

Tommy sighed lightly, content, and he sealed his lips to yours in a kiss. His arms went around your shoulders and held you tight in his warm, sweaty, post-sex-hazy grasp as he kissed you hard. “God, what a thing that would be,” Tommy whispered into your mouth. “Having a little critter running around with my name… I love it.”

Looking at your husband from across the parlor, you could tell that his mind was too laid with Edith Violet and Thomas Junior. He seemed to be reading the newspaper, yes, but his eyes weren’t moving nor his mouth mumbling along. You quickly finished with Finn’s pants, and you looked at the young man. “Now, you’d better keep those out of my sight for at least a week,” you told him. “If I see those pants again, I’m going to go mad, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mother,” Finn said and rolled his eyes, but he kissed your head nevertheless. “Thank you.”

“Of course, darling,” you said. “Do you wanna take some roast home with you? It’s supposed to get cold tonight.”

“I’ll be alright, Miss,” Finn said, and he offered you his hand to aid in standing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Tommy…” Tommy gave an indiscernible grunt towards Finn and flipped the page of the newspaper, and Finn made his way out of the house. You waited until he was fully gone, the front door closing with certainty, before you moved to Tommy and sat down easily on his thigh. Tommy gave you a little smile and cast his reading material aside, and he circled his arms around your waist and pulled you fully into his lap. His face buried in your neck and kissed all over your skin, and he mumbled, “Been waiting to get you alone all day.”

“I’m here, my love,” you whispered, carding your fingers through his slick black hair. “What is it you want?”

“Well…” Tommy began, and his deft fingers played at the buttons lining the back of your blouse. “Right now, I feel quite partial to your tits.”

“Good Christ, Thomas Shelby, you’re insatiable,” you chuckled. Nevertheless, you helped him shrug yourself out of your shirt, and he pressed his cheek against your warm breast. His hand, hot hands slid up your bare back and cupped your shoulders, and he placed light kisses on your skin.

“Lift up your skirt, honey,” Tommy said against your tits.

“What for?” you asked cheekily, and Tommy bit at your nipple hard enough to make you gasp in pain.

“You’re going to ride my cock,” Tommy told you, as if you had no say in the matter. Truthfully, you really didn’t, because you knew that Tommy knew that you’d never refuse him any part of you. You were always so welcome to give your husband whatever he wished. “Seeing you be so good to Finn just reminds me of what a good mother you’ll be… If nothing else, I’m gonna fill you up right now, just to see if we might be lucky.”

“I thought you said you felt lucky this morning,” you said, but you helped Tommy tug up your long skirt anyway. Your hands went to undo his pants as his came to grasp your tits, and he kissed your neck greedily.

“Ah, won’t hurt anything to try again,” he whispered, and he sank his teeth into your skin. Your skin bristled at the feel, and you hurried to tug out his cock. He was already hard, his soft skin thrumming with his heavy pulse, and you shifted your legs to straddle his hard thigh for just a moment before you sank yourself onto him. The shock that rocked through your belly and pussy was enough to make you gasp and squirm a bit, and you wrapped your arms around Tommy’s neck and pressed your forehead to his shoulder.

“Fuck, Tommy,” you whispered as his rough hands went under your skirt to grasp your soft hips.

“Ah,” he hissed in your ear and gently nibbled at your earlobe, where your earring dangled nicely. Tommy always found a way to spoil you, with new dresses or jewelry or trips to the cinema, and he nudged the tip of his nose against the pearl that hung from your ear. He couldn’t even remember when or where he gave you those earrings, but they looked beautiful on you. “God, you’re so tight, mouse… Feel so fucking good.”

Your hips jolted forward at his quiet praise, and you both gave little noises of pleasure. Your skin felt like it was on fire as you moved in Tommy’s lap, and he dug his blunt fingernails into your skin as he hooked his hips upwards into you. Just as swiftly, he covered your mouth with his palm and touched his finger to his own lips, and he whispered, “Arthur’s upstairs… Don’t want him hearing us, do we, Mrs. Shelby?” You shook your head and Tommy gave you his sly, foxy smile before scrunching his nose and fucking up into you again. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, and you moved with your husband as he fucked you as hard as he could manage. The chair underneath him creaked every so often with his movements, and the sound of his skin hitting yours was just so dulled by your skirt covering the whole affair. Eventually, his warm hand fell from your mouth and situated itself back under your skirt. However, instead of going to your hip, his hand found himself at the apex of your legs, and he pressed his thumb to the top of your hole, feeling his cock easily sliding in and out of you with the pad of his finger. He smiled again and wet his lips with his tongue, and he surged forward and captured your nipple in his wet mouth once more. This time, he sucked hard, surely leaving a mark, and your own hands scrambled for his shirt. You helped him get undressed every night (not that you needed to, but you adored helping your man), and you were quick to get rid of his stiff collar and tight tie to unbutton his shirt and vest to expose his smooth, milky chest, dotted by the same freckles that covered his cheeks and neck. He was panting as he sucked at your tit, and his thumb resituated from your pussy to your throbbing clit. He hardly swiped his finger along the burning-hot nerve when you jostled in his lap once more, fire exploding in your pussy and belly.

“Tommy,” you whined, pressing your mouth to his hair to try to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, Tommy. Fuck me, honey, more.”

“M’gonna give you that fuckin’ son you want, mouse,” Tommy grunted, tugging at your nipple with his teeth. “In a few months, you’re gonna get all big with my baby, everyone’ll know what you let me do to you.”

“They already know,” you giggled. It was a struggle to speak coherently with the way that Tommy was rubbing your clit and fucking into that soft spot inside of you, but you knew that, even if you only gave half-formed words, Tommy would be able to read your mind. “Everyone knows how I let you do such sinful things to me. You know… I think Arthur heard us the night I let you take my ass.”

Tommy groaned long and low at the memory of that night, and you clenched your pussy around him to elicit a deeper moan. His chest was beginning to flush a bit pink, creeping up his neck, tiny spots of sweat dotting at his temples, and you carded your fingers gently through his hair and placed a soft kiss on the crown of his head. “Are you going to cum, Mr. Shelby?” you whispered. “Oh, Tommy, my love, please come, honey. Wanna feel you dripping out of me, sweetheart, please come.”

His cock throbbed inside you, and you knew that he was so, so close to his release. You smoothed his hair down the back of his head and angled his face up to look at you, and you rolled your hips down to meet his as they came upwards, and you could have sworn that you saw death flicker in your Tommy’s light eyes. “Oh, when I’m pregnant, my tits are gonna get all big,” you whispered, and Tommy gnashed his teeth as his hips moved harder and faster. “My belly will swell nice and fat, I know you’ll be all over me every day and every night. My love, you’ll simply become a feral animal around me. Oh, Thomas… Imagine little Tommy having your eyes.”

“Edith Violet had better have your eyes,” Tommy huffed with a chuckle. “She’ll be a spitting image of her mother, that girl will be. If she’s anything like you, I’ll be beating off boys with a club.” “If little Tommy is anything like you, we’ll be in big fucking trouble,” you giggled. “He’ll be a handful the whole time… But I wouldn’t have anyone else’s baby.”

Tommy clenched his teeth again and slammed you down hard onto his cock, and you saw stars dot your vision as you came around his cock. Your body convulsed against your will, dragging Tommy into a tight embrace and whimpering in his ear, trying to stay quiet, as he had asked you to, and Tommy grunted deep in his chest and emptied himself inside you. You both breathed heavily for a few moments, trying to recover from the quick and rough fuck, and Tommy pushed your hair behind your ear as a watery smile cam over his pink mouth. “I really feel good about this one,” he chuckled, his hand rising to press against your belly. He gave a soft hiss as the pressure on his cock, still inside of you, and you bit your lip as you nodded in agreement.

“If this doesn’t work…” you began, but Tommy captured your face in his fingers, and he shook his head quickly, his eyes big and glossy.

“It will,” he said firmly. “You’ve got to be positive about this, mouse. Say it. Say that I just got you pregnant. Say it, Mrs. Shelby.”

You smiled at your husband, and you jokingly rolled your eyes. “You just got me pregnant, Thomas,” you chuckled. “In nine months, I’m going to give you that son you want so badly.”

“Would it be so bad if we had a little girl?” Tommy mumbled, gently rubbing your belly. “Tying ribbons up in her hair, playing princess with her—”

“Tommy Shelby, are you saying that you’d play princess? You’ve gone soft,” you smiled, and Tommy shifted underneath you to finally pull his softening cock from your heat. He carefully helped you shrug back into your blouse, and his fingers did the buttons back up smoothly.

“I could,” Tommy said. “Only if I can be the king.”

“You already are,” you told him, moving to sit on his knee when he finished with your blouse. You crossed your legs at the ankle and began to do his shirt and pants back up, and he captured his cigarette case from the side table and struck a match to light up a fresh fag. “You’re the king of Birmingham, my love.”

Tommy took a deep drag on his cigarette, and he gave you that sly fox smile again. “Fuckin’ A-right I am.”

It took approximately six months to be entirely sure that you were pregnant, and you knew that every day of uncertainty ate up your husband’s guts. You didn’t want to get his hopes up over a measly missed period, though, so you kept quiet about it until you were one hundred percent sure.

The certainty came one morning, the first snowfall of the season. Upon waking up, you found your marriage bed empty, and, seeing the empty hanger on the closet door, you knew that Tommy was already at work. He probably had been since before the sun rose. You sat up, protesting the morning for a few moments, and you finally got out of bed. Your toes touched the floor and you looked downwards in pursuit of your house slippers, and you felt like you had been hit in the face when you saw your stomach pressing at your nightgown. How long had you been like this? Had anyone noticed yet? God forbid if Arthur or Michael saw your pregnant belly before you yourself even noticed it.

Your excitement couldn’t be contained, not even long enough to get decent in your house robe.

“Tommy!” you cried, racing through the house. Everyone you encountered widened their eyes and then averted their gaze from you, and you again yelled, “Tommy! Thomas Shelby, where are you?”

“My office, mouse!” your husband yelled, and you heard him speak again, softer. You didn’t even stop to wonder if someone else was in there with him, possibly for an important business meeting. No, this couldn’t wait.

The moment you stepped into his office, you saw Arthur sitting across your husband’s desk, and Tommy grabbed you tightly and shielded you from Arthur’s view with his own body. “Jesus fucking Christ, woman,” he hissed and instantly shrugged off his jacket, draping it around your shoulders and trying to hide the bit of skin that your nightgown didn’t cover. “Are you hurt? What’s wrong? I’ve got business, mouse, I can’t—”

All you had to do was grab him around his wrist and press his palm to your lower belly, and Tommy, for once in his life, found himself speechless. You watched his face, trying to see any semblance of emotion, and you watched his cheeks go deathly pale before flushing pink. “No,” he whispered, and a smile split his face. “Oh, my beautiful… My wife!” He picked you up and kissed your cheek, and he held you tightly as he nestled his own cheek into your neck. “Oh, my girl… Mother of my child…”

“Tommy,” Arthur said gruffly. “Fuck is this?”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Tommy snapped. “Let a man be happy his wife’s pregnant.”

hey, i wanted to ask for a tommy x fem reader where she is in her 20s and the total oposite, like that bubbly bimbo girl that people forget that actually have a brain and is smart just for her looks. she likes tommy because he never doubted her potential and brains. so she wants him, he pulls his sad peaky boy drama and girlboss has to literally make him jealous to the point where he fucks her. (or just confess his love in an agressive way).

i love your imagines anyway.

I LOVED THIS REQUEST. And I may have fallen in love with the reader... Maybe even enough to want a second part...

Thank you so much for sending this in and for waiting <3

Hope you enjoy it! XO

Rated: Explicit - Making out, detailed description of female pleasure, possessive Tommy, Virgin reader

Finding a decent job in Small Heath was challenging.

You’d grown up with a thick coating of anxiety that wrapped around you tightly. You were smart, but the pressure of situations would leave words tangled in your mouth, your stomach would twist up, face flushing, and more often than not you would say something embarrassing. Then suddenly you had a tight body and heavy breasts that only made things worse. The girls got even more mean, and the boys were relentless.

You were excellent in maths, sciences, writing & reading, you spoke four languages, to survive here looking like you did you had plenty of street smarts, and an excellent sense of humor. Yet everyone just saw a slow girl in a whores body. So while waiting for a better opportunity you were helping your father with his restaurant.

You met Mr. Shelby properly for the first time at the horse races.

Your father always kept an ear out about the gossip and you would often strategize the information he’d given you. So far you’d never lost a bet. I guess the Shelby family noticed that your father had started coming out on top regularly, as you noticed them watching you the whole afternoon.

After the race your father had you go to the gambling tables. Shelby eyes followed you the whole night. It must look very strange, your plump father flirting with the barmaid while his daughter worked the floor amongst men.

You knew from the second time you’d noticed Thomas and his brothers staring that anything you collected today would likely be torn from your hands. Which was a shame, with the tips you were allowed to keep at work and the take home from weekends like this you could almost move out on your own.

You decided that enough was enough, the man next to you was starting to sit a bit to close for your liking. You finished the round collecting your chips, and the men at the table looked at you like they would give up just about anything to fuck you then throw your body in the cut.

Perfect time to make an exit.

You handed your collection of chips to your father to cash in, then moved down the bar to where Mr. Shelby was leaning with a glass of whiskey in his hand.

You were momentarily grateful that his brothers had moved further down. Confronting him on his own seemed the slightest bit better if he was on his own.

“Mr. Shelby” You said in a friendly voice, despite your heart racing and your palms getting sweaty. He nodded at you waiting for you to speak. His eyes were a piercing blue and he held himself in a way that made you start to shrink on the inside.

“I have noticed you noticing me all day, is there a reason for that?” You were pretty sure that you were in big trouble and it was better to just get it over with.

“We have business.” He said in a casual tone. Still looking you over.

“Should we discuss it?” You asked timidly. Please don't take me out to the alley.

“Not here, come by the betting shop tomorrow morning.”

“Should I bring my father?” Please say yes. Don't make me go there alone.

“No need, you're clearly the person I need to talk to.” He looked the slightest bit amused, eyes searching your face. You could already feel the thick blush covering your skin.

“Alright.” You gave him a polite smile, unsure of what to say or do. He only downed his drink and placed the glass back down on the bar.

“Tomorrow, betting shop, 8am, don't be late.” He winked at you before walking over and talking to his brothers. They both turned to look you over, eyes heavy with speculation. One of them said something earning him a hearty slap to the back of the head before the three of them got up and exited the busy club.

“Ready for home, love?” Your father asked, causing you to jump.

“Yes! Let's get out of here.” You went home without telling your father about tomorrow's meeting. There is no way on earth he would send you in there alone to meet with a man like that.

You thought about it as you laid awake in your bed. You knew that it would probably be some typical mob meeting where they put your fingers in a drawer making you promise not to bet or gamble on their turf again. Your father didn't need to see that, and he made it clear he wanted your fingers knowing you were the brains behind your fathers winnings.

You just hoped it was your fingers he wanted. A beating, a few bruises or a split lip was all fine and good. But you had a feeling in the pit of your stomach that he might have other ideas of getting the message across.

Eventually after a night of unease and spiralling thoughts you got yourself ready for the day. You had things to focus on which calmed your nerves slightly. Your father wouldn't be up for another hour so you wrote a note saying you were going out.

You were grateful that the shop didn't open till 9, it meant you didn't have to deal with the men that normally lined up. You knocked at the door.

“FUCK OFF! WE OPEN AT 9” A angry female voice called out from behind the worn wooden door.

“I HAVE A MEETING WITH MR. SHELBY AT 8” You shouted back. The door swung open and a lady dragged you into the shop by your arm.

“Good heavens woman, you want the whole world to know your business?!” She left you standing in the entryway and floated back to her desk. She lit a cigarette and looked you over.

“I didn't think whores worked this early in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed and you took a deep breath. It was too early in the morning for this petty shit.

“I wouldn't know.” She scoffed and Thomas walked into the space from the back door.

“You're on time!” He said motioning you towards his office.

“Always am” You said with the brightest smile you could manage.

You sat across from his desk in a comfortable leather chair. Happy that your fingers were nowhere near the drawers.

“So Miss L/N. Big winnings yesterday at the race.” He lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “Then you cleaned out two rounds of poker.” You shivered under the weight of his heavy gaze.

“Yes.” You literally watched him watch you do it so there was no point in denying anything.

“Like the past three race days.” His voice was dark and should send millions of alarm bells off in your head but you couldn't help but focus on his mouth. You slapped yourself mentally.

“That would be correct.” You said with a steady voice.

“How?”

You explained almost everything. You wouldn't give up your method of card counting or the mental math processes behind any other gambling you did. But you explained how you had put the pieces together about which horse was going to win. Explained what your father heard on the street, mixed with what you heard the men talk about at his restaurant, then what you knew of the local gangs and the politics of Small Heath.

“So most things just follow a pattern, you just need to know where to look. And listen I guess.” He watched you closely the whole time, his eyes were sharp like he was trying to catch you in a lie.

“And you just happen to be good at looking and listening?”

“I would say I do a good job, yeah” You gave a little nod.

“What else are you good at?” Your nose crinkled at his words, you’d heard similar things out of peoples mouths countless times and most of them had sexual intentions. He seemed to catch your reaction, and almost seemed the slightest bit empathetic. “Are you good at maths? What are you doing for work right now?” He clarified smoothly.

“You already know I’m excellent at maths, but I am also good with language arts, sciences, and I am fluent in English, Russian, and German. I currently bartend at my fathers restaurant three nights a week.” You also spoke Romani but figured you’d keep that in your back pocket as you knew they were gypsy. If this became a regular interrogation they would probably speak it behind your back.

“Why do you work for your father?”

“Would you believe me if I told you this was the smoothest conversation I’d had with someone not related to me?”

“Yes” He almost smiled. You shrugged.

“Why German and Russian?” He asked, you didn't blame him for asking, they weren't romantic languages and they certainly were not welcome in today's political climate.

“My grandmother was Russian and I picked it up when I was little before she passed.”

“And German?” His eyes narrowed ever so slightly and you sighed.

“It’s embarrassing.” You felt your face get hot but he only raised an eyebrow prompting you to continue. “There was a book series I wanted to read and it was only in German, so a friend taught me in school.”

“Lie” He said quickly.

You let out another sigh and you could feel he was enjoying this.

“I didn't have friends in school. I taught myself so I could read the books. I’m currently working on picking up French.” You answered sheepishly and he gave you a small smile that hit you deep in your stomach.

He didn't know that German was the only common language your father didn't know, and the books were filthy enough to have you sent to a nunnery for the rest of your life.

“Your father was in France?”

“Yes.”

“Your mother?”

“Died of a sickness while he was away.” You answered tightly, he didn't need to know more about that. No one did. He poured you a glass of whiskey and you accepted it with a thanks.

“You kept the books and the restaurant while he was gone.”

“Yes”

“How old are you?”

“20” His gaze turned darker somehow and you flushed again. “Is that a problem?”

“No”

He looked you over like he wasn't sure what to think of you. After a long moment you realized this was the nicest conversation you’d had with someone outside of your family. He listened to you and kept his eyes on your face, like he actually cared about what you had to say. Different feelings made their way into your body as you considered the dangerous man in front of you.

“Work for me. Be here at 8am, Tuesday to Saturday. I’ll pay you the going rate for a bookkeeper but I'll double it in three months if you use your talents for some extra work on the side.”

You were shocked but your face fell at the last sentence.

“Talents being the ones we discussed” He said in a pointed tone.

Your face lit back up.

“None of this is legal is it?” You said with a twinkle that caught him off guard.

“We are working towards it.” He said sternly, but you only let out a laugh. You couldn’t believe your luck.

“Done.” You reached out your hand which seemed to amuse him. He shook it and you felt electricity run through your skin. You wanted this job just as much as you wanted to know him.

After that the woman who opened the door for you was instructed to show you everything about the place. Which led to a yelling match and some kind of special family meeting.

You came back the next day to be properly introduced to the family. The boys took the piss like they always did whenever you thought you deserved some respect. Thomas seemed to have said something to have kept them relatively in check.

The women were mean like always. Polly, the woman who answered the door yesterday, was not impressed with your employment, but you were fairly sure you could win her over with time. Esme seemed to distance herself from you and that was fine enough. You came here to work, not make friends.

You just smiled at them brightly, too excited at the opportunity for their emotions to get in the way of it.

Quality of life improved immediately. People still thought the same shit about you but no one would say it to your face out of fear of your employers. Money was fucking good. You soon had your own little apartment close to the shop. Your father wasn't happy about the arrangement but he was happy to see you doing better.

Once you’d proved yourself useful to Polly she became the closest thing to a friend you’d had. Esme took a little bit longer but you assumed it had more to do with the way John looked at you in passing. Eventually she came around and even apologized to you.

Friends. A job. All you needed was Tommy.

You assumed being brought into the darker parts of the job, the feelings for him would lessen. But it only got worse.

You couldn't help it. The man looked at you like you were a secret weapon. He brought you to sit in on business meetings to observe men, then go on your way digging shit up on them. You cracked coded letters, caught snitches, rigged races.

You spent a considerable amount of time with him. You helped with the books, managed his schedule, and attended various stake outs. He always showed up with a look of amazement, that on top of all of it you still had time to slack off reading your novels, and all those little passing looks went straight to your heart.

You were desperate for him to make a move, heck every man in the bloody city had been after your ass since you were 11. Now that you want the attention you couldn't have it.

Dressing yourself up wasn’t practical with the type of side work you did. So you just tried to impress him. Useless facts, jokes to try and make him laugh, you tried to cheer him up when he was in a mood, always trying to outdo yourself at the tasks he gave you.

You did the same for his family, always trying to be helpful, you took especially good care of the little ones. Finn regularly came to you for advice. It all made you hopeful that maybe you could fit in here permanently.

He always gave you praise and the occasional smile, but never a desperate confession, or an act of passion. He wouldn't let other men touch you in his presence, something you thought was unbearably hot. But you speculated it could also be that he thought of you as a little sister…. Only one way to find out.

After a stealthy discussion with Polly about how to attract men, she suggested that if you were interested in someone you should try to force his hand by making jealous.

You thought about what you knew about romance from your books and observing people and in theory it should work. Or it would break your heart, at this point it was a necessary gamble.

There was a Peaky get-together at the Garrison to celebrate a rather difficult company achievement. Normally you always wore black because people found it off putting but tonight you pulled out all the stops. You wore lipstick and a red dress. It was equal parts terrifying and liberating.

Initiate operation: Jealous

You walked into the pub and everyone seemed to stop and look you over. You tried not to let it turn your face red, and hung your coat up in a way you hoped looked graceful. The night picked up and the dress seemed to work, people came over and chatted to you and you tried to laugh and seem approachable.

It was horrible, you felt his eyes on you the whole time, and yet he hadn't swooped in and stolen you away. Eventually you could feel him standing at the bar behind you as you spoke to some guy, who was talking your ear off about chemical reactions as if you couldn’t run a drug lab on your own. You didn’t know how you got on to this topic but you nodded along politely.

It was fine till it wasn't fine. The man grabbed your arm and Tommy immediately turned around and removed it.

“Please excuse us, she’s needed elsewhere.” Tommy said curtly, causing the man to turn deathly pale. He grabbed your arm moving you towards the exit, quickly snatching your coat and tucking it around your shoulders.

He took you outside and paused for a second, but didn’t take his hand off your arm. He let out an angry sigh like he was conflicted.

“Problem?” You asked in what you hoped was a flirty voice. He gave you a pained expression.

“Have a drink with me?” He asked in a rough tone.

“Sure” You expected him to take you back inside but instead he pulled you back to the betting shop. Your heart was going at record speed and you desperately tried to play it cool.

He unlocked the door and took you into his office. His hand never left your arm but his mind was somewhere far away. He placed you in the usual chair you sat in and handed you a glass of whiskey. He perched on the edge of his desk, almost close enough to touch.

“I have some interesting intel.” He refused to look at you, suddenly captivated by the wall paper like he’d never actually noticed it. You appreciated this because you fought hard to keep your face composed as your heart broke slowly in your chest.

“What’s needed?” You asked softly, also suddenly captivated by the wall paper.

“You need to understand that I’m too old for you, too dangerous, and it's never going to happen.” You felt like the words caused him physical pain despite his cold composure.

“Interesting.” You thought about what Polly had told you about his wife that had passed.

“Not terribly.” He stated.

“You’re older than me, but not any smarter, I’m already tied into every decision you make. I think it will happen if I want it to”

He gave you one of those rare smiles.

“But if you rather me go, I still might be able to catch Mr. Science down at the pub.” You stood up and watched his amusement fade into something darker.

“People will talk.” He warned. You met his eyes and felt the torment pulsing through him.

“They already do.” You took a step closer, finally eliminating the space between the two of you.

“Fuck!” He snapped before grabbing your face roughly and kissing you. It was slow, soft and you felt the restraint running taught in his body. But you’d been restrained your whole life. You trusted Tommy for the right reasons, you trusted for the first time. You were touch starved, and soft wasn't going to cut it.

So you pushed a little to see what it would get you.

You pressed your body closer to him, and he stood up, tilting your face up, deepening the kiss. You pressed your chest up against his, the sensation of his hard chest against your sore breasts made you moan into his mouth. He took that as an opening to slide his tongue into your mouth. You tried to mirror his movements and wanted to pick this up quickly like you did everything else. You wanted to be good for him.

He broke the kiss and gave you a heated but amused look.

“You haven't done this before.” It wasn't a question and your face flushed in embarrassment.

“I haven't liked anyone before.” you breathed as he held your head there, looking up at him.

“We should stop.” He whispered.

“You're not exactly the best lover” You stated. You watched his smile come back, eyebrows raised questioningly. “You haven't asked me once what I would like.”

“Hmm that’s what would make me a good lover, eh?” His hand on the back of your neck tightened, as he moved his other to stroke his fingers down your neck. This was a pleasure you didn't think existed in real life. Your body was on fire, every part of it suddenly too tight.

“Yes.” The word just barely escaped your lips.

“What would you like, love?” He whispered in your ear, his fingers brushed along your collarbone.

“Fuck me on your desk.” Your tone was just above begging but not by much. He scoffed.

“No. I'm not going to fuck you tonight, certainly not over my desk.” Your body tensed up, you didn’t think you would survive if this ended. You needed him, you needed some kind of relief from this heat. You just didn't know how to get there.

“I will, however, go back to yours and see where things go?”

You nodded eagerly and he observed you in a way that stung your heart. He saw something he wanted, you hoped it was more than your body.

Your apartment was not fuck your boss ready. You let him in and rushed into your room. After a 10 second panic clean, most of the embarrassing stuff had been relocated to your closet.

You came back and saw him observing your space quietly. Books and notes were piled over every surface. It was very clean, just very busy. You had a lot you wanted to learn and only a short life to know it all.

Finally his eyes fell on you, your body lit up, and your heart was pounding again. He quickly closed the distance between you. His mouth was on yours again but this kiss was filled with a different type of need.

Slowly you were wearing him down.

He pressed you against the wall in the kitchen. His strong hands traveled the length of your torso eventually coming to rest on your ass. With a tense squeeze you felt him lift you slightly and your body responded by jumping up. Legs wrapped tightly around his toned body. This gave you access to grind up against him, lighting a whole wave of pleasure through you. You moaned and he left your mouth to bite his way down your neck, each one sending shocks through your system. Your breathing was heavy and everything was hazy. He held you tightly and moved you towards your room bumping into various piles of books causing you to laugh loudly. You hoped you hadn't ruined the mood, but he only threw you down on your bed.

Things were about to get serious. Suddenly the nerves hit you. You’d only read about this a million times in books, but now it was real. As if knowing he settled down on top of you, kissing you with a tenderness that made you want to cry out. Suddenly you didn't care if you weren't good at it, you just needed it.

His hands ran up the insides of your legs, finally coming up to rest just before your pussy.

“You're not wearing anything.” His fingers grazed across your wetness and your whole body tensed.

“Nope.”

“You really wanted your first time to be bent over my desk?”

This was not the time for questions. But his hands kept up their exploration sliding through your wet folds so you allowed it.

“I just really wanted you. Didn't really care where.” You said it through gritted teeth as you tried to find a way to settle into the sensations.

“All of this just to get my attention.”

You nodded while taking ragged breaths. He circled your clit and your hips bucked.

“That means that another man touched you, while you were completely indecent.” His other hand placed a smack on the back of your thigh and you let out a small scream of pleasure. This was too much but nowhere near enough. “No one touches you but me. Understood?”

You couldn’t find words, the pause earned you another small slap. That seemed to be a form of punishment, too bad it only did the opposite.

“What would you do if they did?” You gasped and he growled.

“I’d kill them.” He responded darkly and you felt his fingers slide inside you. You let out a little cry at the stretch. “This is mine.” His fingers curled inside you causing you to scream out.

“I’m yours.” You said and he picked up his pace quickly rewarding you with an orgasm. It hit you like a truck, suddenly and completely. Your whole body tensed and your legs squeezed shut around his waist trapping his fingers where you needed him. Eventually it was too much and you tried to squirm away.

“Too much.” You choked and he stopped, you moved so you were laying properly on the small bed. He just took you in, flushed and strug out for him.

“Go out with me tomorrow.” He asked and you enjoyed the way the words came out of his mouth, like they were heavy. His blue eyes blown out.

“Only if you stay tonight.” You said and you watched him try to compose himself but failed.

“I’ll stay. But I’m doing this properly. I don’t want this to be a quick fuck.” Your heart grew and twisted at his words. Tears stung your eyes. Even if you had the words you wouldn't be able to get them out.

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

Tommy’s POV

She was chaos and madness wrapped up in a tight little body. It took everything inside me to stop. Hold back. To court her properly.

Here she was ready to give me everything when no one had ever given her the decency of friendship. Or a nice date.

She’d been labeled as a whore without ever having kissed anyone.

She couldn't even get a fucking job, yet she could have won the war in half the time had she been running things. She was smart, too fucking smart, and awkward as all hell. Even her house was a chaotic storm of knowledge, probably filled with the answers to the universe and cures for various illnesses.

She spent her day bringing my family tea and their favorite snacks when they were sad. Hours of horrible jokes till I’d finally give her a smile, just to watch her face light up in triumph.

As much as I wanted to rip that dress off and have my way with her, I wanted her to have a nice romance like the ones she spent all day reading.

I would make sure she only fell in love once, so I would bloody well make every last bit of it special.

She spent the night wrapped in my arms where I’d want her to be every night till I died.

_____

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