A Shelby Mistress - Masterlist (Complete)

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

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

ONLY YOU - JON SNOW

Summary: After being accused of wanting another woman instead of you, he makes it his mission to let you know that he wants you…and only you.

Warnings: This is all over the place but it makes sense in my head :D. Completely made up the last name for the sake of the fic. Now for real warnings - One (1) quickie, unprotected sex (be smart y’all), vaginal penetration, fingering, oral (female receiving), face-sitting., love-making ig, overstimulation, basically porn, very light touch of breeding, one (1) use of the word ‘whore’, marriage (yes that is a fucking warning but it’s not that complicated in this fic), feelings (ew), mild language, cheating accusations, mentions of not being able to conceive, one (1) very brief mention of Jon crying (yes this is also a warning)

A/N: Hello my darlings! My laptop is still being repaired so please bear with my shitty typing as well as possible typos. I just recently started watching GOT and I HAD to jump on the opportunity the second I laid my eyes on Jon…… considering that I’m only a few episodes in, I did not follow anything too canon considering that I don’t want the details to be too off.

Word count: 4.2k+ (this is the most I’ve written in forever LMAO)

not my gif!

Daenerys Targaryen. The most wanted woman of all in any of the kingdoms. She was undoubtedly envied by many, you included. You were a very close runner-up, but it didn’t help much considering your family’s constant comparisons between you and the younger girl.

You were nearing twenty-one and you had yet to be set for marriage, your parents frowning upon the idea that you wanted different things in life. Sure it might be nice to carry on your family’s legacy and become the heir, being their oldest of seven girls, but it wouldn’t be all that nice when you’d get threatened by others to give up your title as queen.

You’d met Jon when your parents had gone over to the Stark residence for a ceremonial dinner. He’d been out front, swording away at a dummy. You removed the flask from the garter that sat under your dress, sipping the bitter whiskey. You’d leaned yourself up against the wall, eyeing the dark-haired alpha as he blabbered away to his uncle Benjen.

He stole several glances, his tongue prodding at the inside of his cheek when he realized your gown parted more and more to allow some air under the fabric.

“I shall go with you when you leave, Uncle Benjen. My father will say yes - ask him!”

Trying your best to not eavesdrop much more, you began to wander off. His uncle couldn’t stop the perverse words that fell from his tongue. You glanced over your shoulder, shooting the older male a wink, careful as to not show too much of your face as he’d only seen your silhouette. He took off, heading into the castle to rejoice with his brother and several lords, leaving you in the presence of the young man.

“Tisn’t quite the scene for a lady. You should be inside with everyone else.”

“Nor is it the scene for the son of a lor-“

“Lady Stark requested that I didn’t join them for the dinner.”

“Oh, right. Jon Snow, is it? The bastard?”

You finally turned to face him, his eyes widening in their sockets.

“Honorable Y/N Burke. You shan’t be in the presence of an unwed man, young lady.”

“There are many things that I ‘shan’t’ do,” you mimicked air quotes. “But, you’ll find very soon, bastard, that I don’t care much about the things that I shan’t do.”

He eyed you for a moment longer, his sword firm at his side. You had yet to conceal your flask, offering him a sip before taking one of your own.

You watched as his eyes glanced over the way your lips encircled the opening, a drop of the liquid dribbling down the side of your mouth before your finger swiped at it, sucking the digit into your mouth.

Then he lost it.

He pounced on you in just a matter of seconds, groaning as your tongue mingled with his. The exchange of tastes - the whiskey warm with a mix of whatever sweetness you’d treated yourself to beforehand, and his bare whiskey. You could almost taste his musk but it must’ve only been the way his scent overstimulated each of your senses.

His hands, which had made themselves up to your face, dropped to your waist, pulling your lower halves together as he felt up on your body.

“Goodness- we can’t get caught, Snow.”

Your breath picked up into heavy pants, his fingers dipping into your undergarments as he swallowed all of your moans.

“Just be quiet, darling, and they won’t know a thing.”

He teased your clit with a grin plastered to his face. He yanked your underpants down, mimicking the move with his own clothing.

“Jon-“

“Sh, sweetheart-“

He hoisted you into his arms, not hesitating to plow himself into you. You bit down on your lower lip, trying to fight each moan from leaving your mouth. A high-pitched squeal sounded from your throat as his hand accompanied his rather vulgar pace.

“Fuck-“

“Remember what I told you, sweetheart,” he grunted into your ear.

His arm circled itself around your waist, stabilizing your squirming figure. His head tipped back, a groan sounding from his throat before his forehead met yours.

“Jon, fu-“

Before you could finish your statement, you felt the pulsating of his cock, his seed dribbling down your legs. He fucked you through his high, dropping his thumb to your cunt so you’d finally come around his cock. Your body shuddered as your climax hit you, your hands clutching onto him for dear life.

He pulled his garments back up once he’d placed you on the makeshift railing. You remained silent for just a bit longer until you broke said silence.

“Look, Jon- Lord…Snow, I’ve heard of your desire to leave this land and become a Night Watcher. I just….”

For once you had not much to say despite wanting to spew so much out.

“I know of your oath and the things you must accede to.”

“What are you getting at, Hon Burke?”

“If…if I am to carry your child, and I know the chances are slim because it’s only been once-“

“As you said, it’s only been one time. Don’t speak nonsense. This never happened. Are we clear?”

“But-“

He turned to you, helping you redress yourself with a sigh. He couldn’t miss the way your demeanor faltered just a tad, his own softening drastically.

“It’d be in both of our best interests to pretend that this never happened, sweetheart.”

And so you did as he said.

Despite wanting oh so badly to miss your menstrual cycle that month, it’d worked out for the best - you’d told yourself. You’d only known the lad for a few minutes tops but he remained on your mind for years following.

Upon his leave, you were devastated. Watching with teary eyes as the man you knew you wanted so much more with was leaving. Your mother watched as you quickly wiped a tear from under your eye, sniffling quietly.

Two years down the line, it was nearly impossible to avoid the fact that you’d have to step up and become queen rather soon.

“Mother, I am not stepping into that role until I get a proper proposal!”

“You’re too picky, Y/N! We’ve been waiting - for years, we’ve been waiting. You’ve gotten thirty proposals, all of which you’d turned down for the darndest reasons!”

“I’m not picky! I am awaiting someone that will settle for more than what the stupidity of this society offers. My king-“

“Has arrived.”

That voice. His voice.

Immediate tears were brought to your eyes as you found Jon standing in your doorway.

“J- Sir Jon Snow. Am I dreaming?”

“No, m’lady. ‘Tis truly I.”

You resisted every fiber in your body that urged you to jump into his arms and snog him right in front of your mother.

“Lady Burke,” he bowed.

Your mother offered a tight-lipped smile before leaving the pair of you to catch up.

“I didn’t think I’d see you for another ten years.”

Your smaller arms pulled his body into yours, embracing his warmth despite his cool armor.

“Jon,” you hummed, nuzzling yourself further into him.

“Y/N,” he copied your actions, smoothing his hand over your hair. “I couldn’t do without you for much longer.”

“Really? That’s hard to believe considering how quick you left after fucking me,” you quipped.

“I’m sorry, darling. I truly am.”

You met his lips in a soft kiss, your fists clenching around his coat.

“How’ve you been holding up?”

“I’ve just been dandy.”

Lies.

“Sort of glad I didn't have your child.”

Lies.

“Tried to get back out there after you left.”

Lies.

His arm tightened around you at the last of your statements.

“Tell me, Hon. Am I marrying a whore?”

“‘Marrying a whore’?” you were flabbergasted. “One - never call me a whore again. Two - who said we are to be wed?”

“Me.”

The simplicity of his statement baffled your mind.

“You? My father would never let me-“

“Marry a bastard. But, darling, as I remember, you’d told me something two years ago. You don’t care about the things you shan’t do and that shall include claiming me to be your king.”

“Well, why do you wait, my lord?”

He held you tight to his chest with his pupils blown.

“Tell me you’ll be mine, sweetheart. This is my proposal to you. We shall leave this land and rule our own kingdom together.”

“I do accept your proposal, my dearest, but I believe it isn’t that easy.”

“Nothing is easy, especially this. If your father is to deny our marriage and your leave, we shall go nonetheless.”

You grinned up at him, shaking your head as you laid your head on his chest.

“Then I shall marry you, my king.”

As expected, your parents didn’t have the merriest of a reaction when it came to notifying them of your leave with the man who’d notoriously been known to be a bastard. They were disappointed you wouldn’t be running their kingdom but they were relieved to see that you were finally off to be married. They hesitantly approved of the young man’s proposal, sending you off with him.

On your ride to your new castle, miles from your parents’ kingdom, you couldn’t help but question your husband-to-be.

“Why did you leave?”

He eyed you.

“The Night Watch. Why did you leave, Jon?”

“I know my status as a bastard would’ve done me well over there but I couldn’t take it. Being away from you, my family. It was eating at me day and night.”

“Then…why’d it take you two years to come back?”

“I didn’t know how to tell them I’d be leaving. It took me a long time to muster up the courage for that.”

You allowed yourself to remain silent until he placed a hand on top of yours.

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I regret ever setting myself up to be away for the rest of my life, but now I’ve got you and that’s all that I need.”

“You sure have a way with words, don’t you?”

His lip quirked into a gentle smile, his hand squeezing yours with tenderness.

In just a couple of weeks, you were settled into your new home with your husband. It was now time to host several dinners and welcome all to your land. You were beyond ecstatic but it wasn’t until the guests actually arrived that you became wary of those around you.

Daenerys had made quite the entrance into your home, every one entirely forgetting that you existed for a moment. The Khal trailed behind her, offering head nods to those that personally greeted him.

Your heart stammered in your chest beyond your control. You isolated yourself from the crowd, tears cascading down your cheeks as your breathing grew jagged.

Your husband seemed to be infatuated with the platinum blonde-haired girl. You couldn’t blame him but it was killing you. He hadn’t torn his eyes from her, nor did she. She seemed to eye Jon for a bit too long, keeping great eye contact with him as she bowed.

“No need for that,” he chuckled, greeting Drogo with a firm handshake.

He waited for you to greet the couple, not sparing a glance at your seat until he hadn’t heard your voice whatsoever.

“Y/N?”

Chatting and eating resumed, Jon’s leg bouncing anxiously. He watched like a hawk, eyes wandering about the crowd.

“Lord Snow, I don't think Lady Snow is feeling all that well.”

Upon hearing your name, you wiped the last of your tears, seating yourself at your husband's side yet again.

“Darling, what’s the matter?”

He held your face in his palm, eyebrows furrowing at your puffy and reddened eyes.

“Nothing, my lord.”

You spoke the words with such harshness that it pierced his heart.

“What-“

“Ah, Lord and Lady Snow! Why don’t you make a toast?”

“I don’t think-“

“Of course, Benjen. We shall give a toast!”

You stood with your goblet, Jon staring at you with confusion clear in his features before standing on his own two feet.

“Thank you all for coming tonight. Lord Snow and I are delighted to be sharing such a special moment with you all. We wouldn’t have wanted it to be spent any other way. Jon?”

He cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on you as he spoke.

“I’m sure I’m supposed to be thanking you lot but if it weren’t for my beautiful wife here, I wouldn’t be standing in front of you and for that, I thank her. I thank her for trying to understand me, for being the greatest human on earth, and for standing by my side regardless of what. I’ve known the shame of being a bastard for my whole life but she’s willing to bear the embarrassment of being wedded to me.”

His speech went on and on and on. It didn’t seem to end but your heart fluttered at his words. He grasped onto your hand when you turned away from him, your eyes catching Daenerys’. You shook those pestering thoughts from your mind, repeating ‘stop it, stop it, stop it’ over and over in your head.

That had only been the first of many instances, though.

You were distraught. It’d been months since you and Jon were lawfully wedded yet it seemed as if you couldn’t conceive. Your parents were applying pressure, sending ravens to your kingdom every day after, asking when you’d bear children.

After a dinner you’d put together at your castle, you lost it. Jon had spent nearly three hours lingering near the Khal and his Khaleesi. For only two minutes, he held you at his side while conversing with the couple. You’d shimmied yourself from his arms, entertaining the younger Stark children.

Robb had witnessed the way in which you embraced your inner child, chasing the kids around as they screamed their heads off. You shooed them away with a motion of your hand. With a hand on your hip, you watched them run off, your heart aching at the thought of never having children.

“Any luck yet, m’lady?”

Robb chuckled as you flinched in the slightest.

“My goodness, Robb. No, no luck yet. However, we already have names picked out, as well as runner-ups for godparents.”

“Oh really?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, spinning to face the brunette.

“If you’re so desperate to hear it, then yes, you are a candidate for our children’s godfather.”

He took your hand into his, landing a kiss on your knuckles as you giggled endlessly.

“I knew you always loved me,” he dramatically expressed.

You raised a brow, badgering him, “Say that with caution, Stark.”

“Or what? Lord Snow will behead me?”

“I might.”

The older boy wrapped his arm around his brother’s neck in a cub-like embrace.

“Goodness, Jon. Leave your brother be,” you scolded him, watching as his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer.

The dinner was called to an end rather soon, but a few of your guests straggled about - Khaleesi Daenerys amongst the few. Your eyes were like daggers as you watched Jon converse with the younger girl. You were drawn from your thoughts the moment Robb placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Now, Y/N, I am well aware that you think my brother is mad over this woman - or at the least, having an affair with her. But I can assure you, nothing of that sort is happening at all. He’s only trying to make am-“

“I’d like to hear that from him, Robb. If he’s just trying to make amends with the Khal and everyone then that’s on me. But it doesn’t help that the Khaleesi is that fucking gorgeous. She has these big doe eyes that scream ‘help me’ or ‘fuck me’! I don’t know which one it is but I’m afraid that Jon will play the hero and be the one that fulfills any of her needs.”

You were seething in the corner with Robb at your hip. He tried assuring you repeatedly but you were quite a stubborn queen.

After everyone had left for good, you wasted no time in heading straight to bed. You wanted to avoid Jon to the best of your ability but you simply couldn’t outdo the king. Before you could step foot out of your bedroom with your things in hand, Jon stepped in front of you. He backed you into the room, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he shut the door.

“What’s your problem?”

You tried to not break under his intense gaze, your eyes bouncing from his own to everywhere in the room.

“What is your issue, Y/N?”

His voice was too quiet for your comfort.

“Are you…having an affair with Daenerys, Jon?”

The words that left your mouth sent a genuine fit of laughter racking through his body.

“Are you being serious?”

“Answer the question.”

His laughter died down, his body gravitating towards yours.

“Of course, I’m not having an affair with Daenerys. What makes you ask this?”

“The way you look at her kills me, Jon. When she’s here, it feels like I don’t exist! Why do you think I disappear for hours on end- you know what - you don’t even realize that I’m gone because you’re too immersed in your interactions with her! It’s-“

His hands found themselves on either side of your face, forcing you to look at him, though gently.

“If I was having an affair with Daenerys or anyone else, do you think that I’d be in the same bed as you every single night? All of those things I said about you months ago were nothing but true. You were probably too busy being upset with me to hear most of it but I don’t want anyone else. I want you and only you.”

“Then why do you look at her the way that you do? There’s so much compassion and-“

“I look at her that way because I feel bad for her! She talks to me because she feels as if she can’t trust anyone else, not even her own brother. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel less important. You’re the most important person, the most important thing in this world. I care for Daenerys’ well-being but I don’t care about her the way I care about you. I love you and I know I don’t say it enough but I do!”

He panted as he read your face.

“So you’re not cheating on me?”

“No, and I never will! I only want you, Y/N Snow. Only you.”

His lips met yours, your shoulders falling as relief washed over you. You allowed your hands to get lost in his hair, his arms wrapping themselves around your waist as your lips moved in tandem.

“Tell me you love me.”

You hadn’t noticed the few tears that stained his cheeks until he spoke against your lips, your heart aching in your chest.

“Jon, my darling, I love you more than you will ever know.”

His arms tightened around you, lifting you from the ground as he pecked your skin.

“It seems as though I have to make up to you for the rest of my life,” he chuckled against your skin.

“Sweetheart, you loving me alone is enough of an apology.”

He laid you gently on the bed, undoing your bodice in an impressive amount of time. He held back no longer, suckling on the skin that was graciously presented to him.

“Jon,” you hummed.

He imitated your actions, putting a ministration to his movement once he’d reached your underpants. After kissing, biting, sucking on your skin, his lips were red and plump. They met yours again, the taste of whatever wine you’d been drinking just hours prior still lingering on your tongue.

He worked his hands into the sides of your underpants before pushing them down your legs. You whimpered against his tongue as his fingers stimulated your clit.

“Darling,” you gasped out, his fingers dipping in and out of your cunt.

He used a leg to pry yours apart, reveling in your angelic sounds. He propped himself up on his other arm, hand holding his head. With your hands tugging at his clothing, you pulled him in even closer.

His face disappeared into the nape of your neck. The way in which he breathed against your neck caused your skin to crawl.

His nose nudged at your jawline, a dumbstruck grin taking over his features once he felt your walls pulsating around his digits. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the next words that flew from his mouth.

“Lannister had told me he imagined you sitting on his face long before my proposal. I nearly slayed the son of a bitch until I realized you weren’t mine then. Why don’t you come on my face, sweetheart?”

“W-what?” You stammered out - half shocked at the proposition and half processing the fact that he was still fucking you with his fingers.

“My pretty girl doesn’t want to sit on my face?”

He jutted out his bottom lip, on which you pressed a kiss, uttering an ‘I do’. Your legs squirmed a bit more until you came. Your back arched off the mattress as you gasped and cried out. He slid his fingers into his mouth, his eyes locked on your blissful features.

“You taste heavenly,” he murmured, wiping his saliva-slicked fingers off on his bottoms.

His words made your cheeks heat up, using whatever strength you had to push yourself onto your knees.

“Are you sure about this, Jon?”

“A million times over - yes, I’m sure about this.”

He laid himself down, your legs trembling as your cunt hovered over his face. He brought you down in seconds, not being able to resist the temptation.

His tongue expertly worked your cunt as it’d done several times before. Sitting on his face, however, brought a new sense of pleasure to you - his nose bumping your clit every so often as the entirety of your cunt grew soaked. The mix of his saliva and your release sent you spiraling once more, the core in your lower half tightening before you could say anything.

His tongue softly fucked your desperate hole, a glass-shattering moan sounding from within. You couldn’t hold back any of it. You needed to let the whole damn castle know that your king was treating you right.

“Jon!”

One hand dropped to his hair, the other fondling your breast. Your eyes dropped to his, your body giving out at the sight of his disheveled hair and his eyes just begging for your come.

Your body shook gently as you came in his mouth, eyes screwing shut once your head had lolled back. You’d lifted yourself off to the side, your husband chuckling at your already fucked-out state.

“How was that?”

His fingers traced patterns on your skin as you came down from one of your many highs for the night.

“Fuckin’ amazing,” you breathed out, your arms reaching for him once he’d brought himself to his knees.

You watched as he undid his bottoms. The intense eye contact he held with you was a telltale sign that you needed to help him out of his clothes before he exploded.

“I won’t be rough tonight,” he whispered.

You bit your lip, feeling the burn of his gaze on your face as you undid the buttons of his shirt. Your insides grew fuzzy, becoming giddy at the fact that this was truly your husband. No one, nothing could ever take him away from you.

He stood nude before you, pressing his back to the headboard before patting his lap. You climbed onto him in a matter of seconds, your hands already stabilizing themselves on his shoulders. Your knees bent at either hip, legs akimbo to appease his girth. You pumped him a few times, running his tip up and down your fold before sinking onto him with a cry.

“Has it been long, my darling?”

You nodded, offering an airy chuckle as you struggled to take all of him.

“Gods, I’m beyond s-“

You hushed him with a kiss on the lips, your hips beginning to rock back and forth once you’d hit his base. His hands fell to your behind, your back arching as he hit that spongy spot inside of you. His name left your mouth like a mantra, chants of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ following right after. Your mouths found one another in a slobbery mess, a clash of teeth and tongue as the rutting of your hips became more desperate.

“Stop apologizing, my lord. I- holy shit, I love you,” you choked out.

“I love you, sweet girl.”

His forearms held onto your waist, using this as leverage to thrust himself further into you.

The pace of his hips, the words exchanged, the looks on both of your faces. Just outside your door, guards exchanged knowing glances, clearing their throats at the sounds that came from the both of you. They seemingly grew louder, Jon taking the opportunity to let the words flow from his mouth - “I shall put a baby in you tonight.”

And so the night proceeded. Jon didn’t let up until you physically couldn’t go for another round, making sure none of his seed left your womb.

It was a relief to know that your king, your lord, your love wanted you and only you.

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Swimming Lessons

tommy shelby x reader

summary - who knew Charlie's swimming lessons would end up bringing you closer to your aloof husband?

word count - 3,380

warnings - smut, 18+, fluff, arranged marriage trope

requested by anon

A/N - I really loved this request, and I'm not sure I wrote it so nicely because I wanted to include many things...still hope you like it. BTW season 6 was sooo dark, I'm super excited.

Sitting outside the beautiful Arrow House and reading your boring magazine while keeping an eye on your stepson while he took his swimming lessons, you made an observation.

Your husband hated you.

And no, it wasn't an abusive relationship (Good heavens, no. Tommy would never, ever hit a woman. You supposed.) but you were pretty certain that your importance in Tommy Shelby's life was as much as the colourful swimming ring your stepson had just demolished.

A thing of beauty, useless forever.

"Mrs. Shelby?" The young man in the swimming pool in charge of teaching Charlie how to swim called out.

Lifting up your sunglasses over your head, you asked, "Yes?"

"I'm afraid we're going to need another one of these." He said with an unabashed grin as he held up the deflated swimming ring.

So much for wanting to sit back and wallow in self-loathing.

You inwardly knew it was the instructor's excuse to check out your arse, but didn't think much about it. You needed to be around Charlie, period. Flirtatious swimming instructors could stare all they want, but you weren't going anywhere.

You looked around for a maid, but despite having a staff of more than fifty, you didn't see one around.

Guess it was the instructor's lucky day.

"I'll get it." You said, trying not to let the reluctance creep into your words.

"Aren't you the best, Mrs. Shelby?" He called from behind, his eyes definitely on your behind.

You gritted your teeth, regretting your decision to forgo a cover up. But your bikini, a pretty little thing you had bought on an overindulgent shopping trip was too flattering to be shrouded by a measly coverup. It accentuated your best parts without highlighting the not-so-best ones, and you loved every second you spent in it.

And it was no excuse for the instructor to stare, you thought in displeasure as you walked inside the empty house and into the playroom. As an employee of Thomas Shelby, he should have some regard for his life, if not for decency.

Shaking your head a little, you went on to pick up the swimming ring and padded outside, humming a little as you readjusted your bikini top with your free hand.

It was then that you collided into something. Something hard, alive, and very much like your husband.

"Oh."

His eyes were hidden underneath a pair of aviators (which made him look very, very sexy) but everything else in his calm demeanour, from his clenched jaw to the flat line of his mouth screamed, "Get the hell out of my way."

You stayed where you were, your eyes fixed on your small reflection in his dark glasses. He stood motionless too, and you realised his hand had found home on your bare waist during your collision, ostensibly to steady you.

You shivered a little. He cleared his throat and moved his hand away.

"I forgot my keys." He said, his lips barely moving, as if you didn't deserve even that much muscle contraction.

"To the office?"

He gave a surly nod, as if saying, What else?

"Charles has swimming lessons." You said.

"I know."

"I was getting him the ring. I was only away for five minutes, I swear."

That managed to irk him more and he muttered, "Go on, then," before pushing past you and inside the house.

You heaved a large sigh. What a day. And it was only eleven.

"Here, Charles. Catch!" You smiled at Charlie and threw the ring in his direction.

"You are a lifesaver, Mrs. Shelby." The instructor flashed a wolfish smile which you believed was very, very inappropriate for a man supposed to teach children.

"Oh, shut up." You answered while gritting your teeth as you sat down on the chair, looking forward to an hour of lounging about as Charlie took his lessons.

"It's the truth."

Why was he still talking?

You smiled and picked up a magazine from the side table, very pointedly making your intentions clear.

"I think we need your help, Mrs. Shelby." The instructor's voice broke through your reading and your calm demeanour.

"What's wrong now?" You asked as you hurried to cover the 2 feet long distance between you and the pool.

"This."

In a moment, you were drenched from head to toe by the cold pool water.

"What-"

"Are you cold, Mrs. Shelby?" He smirked, his eyes set lecherously on your breasts.

"You will not talk to me in this way!"

"Mr. Hurst! I am floating." Charlie's voice cut through the tension, and you found yourself quietening a little.

Ignoring you and your empty threats, the instructor swam back towards Charlie, "Look at you, Charles. You are a gifted swimmer, boy."

Clenching your teeth, you turned to walk back to the lounge chair, only to sense some movement in the corner of your eye.

You looked up to catch the eye of Tommy, who was standing near the window with a cigarette in between his fingers, scrutinising the situation with his icy cold eyes, no doubt calling you a whore in his head.

What a day, really.

***

"Where's Charles?" Tommy Shelby asked whoever was listening when he came back home that night.

You got up immediately from your almost sleeping position on the sofa and relayed the news to Tommy, "He's sleeping."

He gave you a once-over, as if realising you were an actual person too and asked, "What are you doing?"

"I thought I would wait...You didn't have dinner, did you?" You asked hesitatingly.

"No. Tell Frances to bring it in my study." He instructed.

You nodded while barely stifling a yawn.

"And you, come inside." He pointed a finger at you before leaving for his study.

You exhaled, wondering if it was your last day in Arrow House after all.

"Do you need something?" You asked as you let yourself inside the study. Tommy was going through some papers and he looked at you for second before going back to the work at hand.

"Yeah. What's that instructor's name?" He asked, eyes still on the paper he was reading.

"Umm...Tim. Tim Hurst."

"Tell him not to come from next week."

"Oh...Why?"

He cast a funny look in your direction before stating, "He's unfit for the job."

"Okay. I'll let him know." You nodded and began to leave, but Frances interrupted your exit.

"Mr. Shelby."

"Dinner is here. Do you want anything else?" You asked.

He nodded, then gestured at the sofa. "Sit down."

You gave him a quizzical look.

"You didn't eat, did you?" He asked most patiently, as if speaking to a child. Or an imbecile.

"But it's all right. I'll eat outside. I'm sure you need privacy."

In answer, he turned and sat down on his chair, and you were about to take that as your cue to leave, only to literally freeze when he said slowly, "I called you for company."

You swallowed. Time to tell him, (Y/n).

"I know what you are thinking."

"You do?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair, taking you in with a carelessly curious gaze.

"And it's my fault, really. I shouldn't have worn that...swimsuit. But I wasn't expecting Tim to behave so inappropriately. I know you think I was trying to grab his attention, but that was not my intention. My entire focus was on Charlie. I care for him, very much."

He nodded, his lips turned up a little. "I know."

You almost sputtered. That's all you want to say?

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" He asked instead.

You shrugged. "He was good with Charlie, and his word matters in the federation. I thought he'd put a good word for him."

"Still, you should've told me."

"I'll keep that mind." You acceded, trying hard not to roll your eyes.

He raised his eyebrows for a moment, as if seeing through your farce. And you couldn't bear his scrutiny anymore.

"Good night, then." You said, slightly irked.

He nodded. "Good night."

***

"Charlie? What are you upto?"

"Hello to you." You greeted Tommy in surprise a few afternoons later as he strode inside the drawing room where you and Charlie were sitting on the floor.

"So, what's going on?" He asked as he sat down on the sofa, you and Charlie literally at his feet.

"Charlie and I decided to make a castle."

"A castle of paper!" Charlie squealed in delight.

"Girls do that shit." He muttered with a look in your direction.

"Now Charlie, why don't you tell your very ignorant father that both boys and girls live in castles?"

"Yeah, Dad. (Y/n) said I'll be a Prince!"

"Why not?" He said with a shake of his head.

"And she will be my princess." Charlie continued.

You gave a throaty laugh at that, sobering when you found Tommy's eyes intent on your face.

"What does that make me, eh?" Tommy asked as he pulled out a cigarette and ran it across his lips.

"The fire-breathing dragon." You muttered in what you assumed was a low voice but Charlie's snicker told you otherwise.

"Dad is a dragon! Dad is a dragon!"

"Now, Charlie." You chided, and with a contrite look in Tommy's direction, muttered, "I'm sorry."

But to your surprise, his face was lit with amusement. Smiling a little yourself, you began putting the crayons in the colouring box as you asked Tommy, "I thought you were leaving for London. Aren't you late?"

"I decided not to go." He said plainly.

"Is everything all right?"

"Yeah."

When he didn't elaborate, you said, "Charlie wanted to go for a swim. But I..."

"What?" He almost uncoiled from his sprawling position on the sofa, his sharp gaze piercing into you.

"I can't- I don't know how to swim. So I brought him here. I'm sorry."

He stayed quiet, then asked, "Do you still have that thing...?" He made a vague gesture with his hands.

Smirking, you said, "Of course. It cost a fortune."

"Put it on. We're going swimming."

***

"This is a bad idea."

You said fifteen minutes later as you watched Tommy tread towards you with a swimming ring-encased Charlie in tow.

"Give me your hand." He ordered as he offered you his hand, naked except for his swimming trunks.

Oh, my.

The faint dusting of golden hair on his body, his lean but strong muscles, the sexy tattoos covering his upper body; everything was making too much sweat pool in between your breasts.

"I'll just watch from here." You said, a little too hot for March.

He raised an eyebrow at you before saying, "Looks like somebody is scared, Charlie."

"(y/n) is scared! (y/n) is scared!" Charlie teased, and you would've wiped that smile off Tommy's face if it wasn't so adorable.

"Fine. But if I drown, tell my mother I love her."

"Only 'er?" He asked quietly.

You ignored that and focussed on sliding down in the water.

He was in front of you the moment you entered the pool. "Here. Hold me shoulders."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He said in mild annoyance.

"But my feet?" You cried.

"They are on the ground." He said calmly.

"Oh, this-"

"This pool is for kids." He looked like he was trying not to smile.

You let out a sigh of relief.

"I think I can manage from here."

"By all means."

He left you alone after that, as alone as a 10 x 10 swimming pool would allow. You focussed mostly on keeping the skimpy bikini in place and watching Tommy and Charlie covertly from the sides, not wanting to interrupt the father-son bonding but still wanting to be a part of their group.

When Charlie's screeches decreased in pitch and frequency, you knew it was time for his nap.

"He's getting tired." You told Tommy and he agreed with a nod.

You carried the already drowsy Charlie in your arms before Tommy had a chance and led him towards the ladder, only to realise it was impossible to carry on forward from there.

"Allow me."

You transferred the sleeping Charlie to his father, then began your ascent up the ladder, dripping water everywhere around you and resisting the urge to readjust the slippery fabric around your ass and breasts.

"It was fun." You smiled at Tommy while shivering, cursing yourself one more time for forgetting your coverup.

Did you, though, (Y/n)? Didn't a tiny part of you wanted to show off in front of your husband?

Ignoring the spiteful voice in your head, you focussed on what Tommy was saying.

"Go wash up. You'll fall sick." He said in his flat, solicitous voice.

"But Charlie-"

"Frances will take care of him. All right?"

"His clothes-"

"Go."

You agreed half-heartedly but felt eyes on your back until you entered the house.

***

You were drying your hair in your soft pink bathrobe when you heard a knock on the door.

"Yes?" You asked from inside, running hand through your damp hair.

The person outside took it as an invitation to come inside, and you hurried to readjust the knot on the robe.

"Oh, you." You said as Tommy Shelby entered your bedroom in his usual insanely expensive three-piece suit. And to think he was in the pool just half an hour ago.

"Were you expecting someone else?" He asked, taking your form with piercing intensity and making you very much aware of the fact that you were very much naked underneath the cotton robe.

"No..No, I meant...I wasn't expecting you." You stuttered.

He looked faintly amused as he closed the door behind him. "Why not?"

"Well, this isn't your room." You explained.

"I know." He said with a look around your dainty, overcrowded room as he walked further inside.

Licking your lips, you asked, "Did you want something?"

He nodded once, walking closer towards you until you were pushed against the wall.

"What?" It came out as a squawk.

"This."

Your whimper died when your mouths collided. His lips on yours, pressing, coaxing, pushing.

The kiss was over before it began, and before you could know what the hell it was about, he was leaving the room.

***

"Dinner?" Tommy asked you one evening as you came out of Charlie's room after putting him to bed.

Almost jolted from the ambush, you barely managed to nod at him before collapsing on the bed the moment you went inside your own room.

It was a quiet dinner, uneventful even, except the fact that you were flustered enough to keel over and die on the rich wool carpet. And Tommy, that fiend was doing everything to make your situation worse.

He had escorted you to the table with a not so innocent hand on the small of your back, or rather some place lower and much more improper. Then, he had not missed any opportunity to touch you surreptitiously. A rub behind your collarbone, a stroke on your fingers, you name it.

Twice during the dinner, his hand brushed against your breast, sending sharp electric tingles down your spine.

Honest mistake, no need to get riled up, you had convinced yourself as your entire body heated with pent up sexual frustration.

"Pass me the whisky." He said, as affected by the ordeal as the barely touched food on your plate.

You obliged and offered him a glass of the drink. His fingers brushed against yours, and stayed there for a long moment; long enough to make your heart skip a beat. His eyes stayed fixed on yours throughout the ordeal until you pulled your hand away.

This was nothing if not a mistake.

You narrowed your eyes at him then. "I know what you're doing."

"Good." He said with a quick sip of the drink.

"This is entirely wrong."

He looked a touch hurt, and asked as blankly as possible, "Why?"

"Because you don't like me."

"I like you a lot." He sounded a bit unenthusiastic about that detail.

"Why?" You demanded.

"Because."

"Because?"

"Let's go upstairs." He threw his napkin and got up from the chair.

"Tommy."

"What?" He asked gently, his eyes locked into yours.

"Is it because of me? Or just because you want to do it?"

"Both."

Your face deflated a little.

"Come."

Your hands stayed linked as you strode up the stairs, he, a man on a mission and you, almost grudgingly.

Suddenly, without breaking step, he said, "Ever since I saw you in that...."

"Bikini?" You asked.

"Yeah, that." He made the same vague gesture as he pushed his bedroom door open.

"So?" You prodded, looking around his room with an embarrassing amount of yearning. It was everything you wanted and the one thing you couldn't have. Well, except Tommy.

"I haven't been sleeping properly." He said as he rubbed the side of head with his thumb.

"You're never sleeping properly."

"And how would you know that?" He looked sceptical.

"I'm your wife, Tommy."

His face softened for a moment before eyes darkened with need as he slowly reached to touch the straps of your dress.

"Yes, you are." He said huskily and bent forward to claim your mouth.

Sighing, you spoke against his lips, "I want this to mean something."

"It does." He said before resuming his ministrations. His lips teasing, his hands caressing, his legs leading both of your bodies towards the bed.

He divested you of your clothes with little trouble and much ease, before laying you flat on your back, naked as the day you were born. He was on top of you soon, the weight of his hard body a sweet pressure on your aching body.

"Tell me what you want, (Y/n)." There was a mild entreaty in his voice as he pushed a finger inside your slick folds, making you whimper loudly.

"Oh, God, Tommy..." You moaned, burning to bring him closer.

"This?" He asked and inserted another finger into your wet slit, making your body arch off the bed and your eyes roll back behind your head.

"Tommy, please..." You sobbed.

"Please what, love?" He asked gently, but you knew he was smiling.

"Please. I need you."

It was all confirmation he needed, and soon his hardened cock replaced his expert fingers, pushing into your drenched folds with ease.

You sighed at his feel, taking him in he slowly thrusted into you, as if afraid to break you. When you couldn't take in the sweet torture anymore, you moaned out with his each thrust, "Tommy, please...don't...stop."

As if just waiting for your permission, he pushed deep inside you, and thrusted with complete abandon, making the bedsprings squeak and the headboard above your head tremble.

Within minutes, you shattered in his arms, and he drove himself faster and deeper until he exploded inside you too before bending and pressing a soft kiss on your lips.

Your foreheads joined, sweat coating your bodies, your breathes coming in shallow breaks. You were in so much love with him at that moment, knowing you would never be this close to him than you were right now. Feeling bold, you awkwardly raised your hand and touched the side of his freckled face. He moved his face so he was kissing the inside of your palm.

It felt like fireworks.

He pulled out then and laid down by your side, but didn't let go of you, holding you close by his chest with his arm around your shoulders, eyes on the ceiling.

"Should I say something?" You asked as you clutched the bedspread in the hand which was hidden from you.

"If you want, yeah." He sounded like he was having trouble speaking, and kept his eyes trained on the ceiling.

"Well, not precisely. But yeah.. it was nice." You shrugged shyly, barely restraining the urge to hide your face behind your hands. This was Tommy Shelby after all, the man you had loved for five years and been married to for two years.

He looked gravely offended at that. "Fuckin' nice?"

"Wonderful. Life altering." You admitted.

He exhaled through his nose, a tiny smile lifting the side of his mouth. "Better."

Satisfied, you asked him the dreadful question you wished didn't exist but whose presence you had to accept. "So, should I go?"

He furrowed his brows. "Where?"

"My room." You said quietly.

He really looked at you then and said, in his most serious yet sexy voice, "Sweetheart, you are in your room."

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."

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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