I've recently run across all your Tommy works and I'm in love with your writing.
Could you please:
Tommy's wife/girlfriend comes home to Tommy now wearing glasses and she can't control herself.
Thank you so much!!
Those Glasses
Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Female Reader
Warnings: smut, 18+, explicit sexual content, oral sex, power dynamics, dom/sub, praise/possessiveness kink, mild impact play, smut heavy with romantic undertones.
Summary: Late one night in Birmingham, Y/N returns home to find Thomas Shelby buried in paperwork and wearing his rarely-seen reading glasses—an image that stirs more than just admiration. What begins as quiet longing turns into a heated, intimate encounter.
A/N: Hey! Thank you so much! Thomas wearing those glasses is literally so sexy I cannot! I loved writing this!! Hope you love it too xx
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The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors and the distant hum of Birmingham’s industrial heart. The air carried the faint scent of coal smoke and whiskey, a familiar perfume in Small Heath. It was late, the kind of hour where the world felt suspended, and Thomas Shelby sat in his office, the dim light of a single lamp casting shadows across his sharp features. His round, wire-framed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, a rare sight that softened his otherwise unyielding presence. Papers were strewn across his desk—ledgers, contracts, the endless machinery of the Peaky Blinders’ empire. His fountain pen scratched against the paper, each stroke deliberate, his mind a labyrinth of plans and contingencies.
The front door clicked shut, and the soft patter of heels echoed through the house. Y/N—his wife, his anchor, his equal in ways no one else could ever be—had returned from a night out with Ada. She paused in the hallway, smoothing her coat, her breath catching as she glimpsed him through the half-open office door. The sight of Tommy in those glasses, his dark hair slightly mussed, his sleeves rolled up to reveal sinewy forearms, sent a shiver down her spine. He was all focus, all control, and yet there was something about those glasses—scholarly, almost vulnerable—that made her knees weak. She leaned against the doorframe, her silk dress clinging to her curves, watching him in silence.
Y/N's gaze lingered on the way his jaw tightened as he read, the way his fingers gripped the pen with precision. Her core stirred, a slow burn that spread through her body, making her shift her weight. She pressed her thighs together, trying to quell the growing ache, but it only intensified. Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, her eyes tracing the veins in his hands, imagining them on her skin.
Tommy’s pen paused mid-sentence. His icy blue eyes flicked up, catching her in the doorway. He didn’t move, didn’t smile, but the air between them thickened. “You’re starin’, love,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, with that Birmingham edge that always made her heart race. He leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight, and tilted his head, studying her through those damned glasses.
Y/N's cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze, her lips curving into a coy smile. “Can’t help it, Tommy. You look… bloody irresistible in those glasses.”
He raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Irresistible, eh? That’s a dangerous word to throw around.” He set the pen down, his movements deliberate, and pushed the glasses up the bridge of his nose. The gesture was small, but it sent a pulse of heat through her, and she squeezed her thighs tighter, her body betraying her need.
Tommy noticed. Of course he did. His eyes dropped to her legs, then back to her face, a glint of understanding in his gaze. He stood, slow and predatory, and crossed the room to her. Each step was measured, his boots heavy on the floorboards. He stopped just inches away, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his body, the faint scent of tobacco and cologne. “What’s got you so worked up, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a velvet blade, cutting through her composure.
She swallowed, her pulse hammering in her throat. “You,” she admitted, her voice soft but steady. “The way you look, sitting there, all focused… those glasses. God, Tommy, you don’t know what you do to me.”
His smirk deepened, but there was tenderness in his eyes, a rare softness reserved only for her. He reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek, then trailing down to her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his. “Tell me,” he said, his tone commanding yet intimate. “Tell me what I do to you.”
Y/N's breath trembled. “You make me ache,” she whispered, her hands finding his chest, fingers curling into his waistcoat. “Right here.” She guided his hand to her lower abdomen, letting it rest just above where her need burned hottest. “I can’t stop thinkin’ about you touchin’ me.”
Tommy’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind those glasses. He stepped closer, pinning her gently against the doorframe, his body a wall of heat and muscle. “You’re needy tonight, aren’t you?” he said, his lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “My girl, all worked up over a pair of fuckin’ glasses.”
She laughed softly, but it turned into a gasp as his hand slid down her side, gripping her hip. “Don’t tease me, Tommy,” she said, her voice a mix of plea and defiance. “I want you.”
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his gaze searing. “You’ll have me, love,” he promised, his voice rough with desire. “But I’m gonna take my time with you first.”
He led her into the office, closing the door behind them with a soft click. The room felt smaller now, the air charged with anticipation. Tommy guided her to the edge of his desk, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the polished wood, papers crinkling beneath her. He stood between her legs, his hands resting on her thighs, pushing her dress up to reveal the soft skin beneath. Y/N's breath caught as his fingers traced the tops of her stockings, teasing the sensitive flesh.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent as he looked at her, his glasses glinting in the lamplight. He leaned in, kissing her deeply, his lips firm and possessive. Y/N moaned into his mouth, her hands tugging at his waistcoat, desperate to feel his skin. She pulled back, breathless, and reached for his glasses, but he caught her wrist, shaking his head.
“Leave ‘em on,” he said, a wicked glint in his eye. “You like ‘em so much, they stay.”
She grinned, her heart pounding. “You’re cruel, Thomas Shelby.”
“And you love it,” he shot back, his hands sliding higher, parting her thighs. He knelt before her, a king bowing to his queen, and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee. Y/N's head tipped back, a soft moan escaping her as his lips moved upward, slow and deliberate, each kiss igniting her skin. His fingers hooked into her panties, pulling them down with a gentle tug, and she shivered as the cool air met her heated core.
“Tommy…” she breathed, her hands gripping the edge of the desk.
“Shh, love,” he murmured against her thigh, his breath hot. “Let me take care of you.”
He kissed her inner thigh, his stubble grazing her skin, sending sparks through her. When his mouth finally found her pussy, Y/N gasped, her hips bucking involuntarily. Tommy’s hands gripped her thighs, holding her steady as his tongue explored her, slow and deliberate, tasting every inch of her. He flicked her clit with precise strokes, each one drawing a whimper from her lips. Her core throbbed, the ache intensifying with every swirl of his tongue, every gentle suck.
“Fuck, Tommy, that feels so good,” she moaned, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging lightly. He growled against her, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure through her. He worked her with expert precision, his tongue circling her clit, then dipping lower to taste her wetness. He took his time, savoring her, drawing out her pleasure until she was trembling, her thighs quaking under his hands.
“You taste like fuckin’ heaven,” he said, his voice muffled against her skin. He slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right, and Y/N cried out, her body arching. He added a second finger, stretching her, pumping slowly as his mouth returned to her clit, sucking gently. The combination was overwhelming, her body spiraling toward release.
“Tommy, I’m close,” she gasped, her nails digging into his scalp.
“Not yet,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes, his glasses fogging slightly from the heat of their bodies. “You come when I say, love.”
She whimpered, her body aching for release, but she nodded, trusting him completely. He stood, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself on his lips. Y/N's hands fumbled with his belt, desperate to feel him. She unbuttoned his trousers, her fingers brushing against the thick, veiny length of his cock, already hard and straining against his boxers. She freed him, her breath catching at the sight—big, thick, and pulsing with need.
“God, Tommy,” she murmured, wrapping her hand around him, stroking slowly. “You’re so fucking perfect.”
He groaned, his head tipping back as she worked him, her thumb brushing over the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum. “Careful, love,” he said, his voice strained. “You keep that up, I won’t last.”
She smiled, emboldened, and leaned forward, taking him into her mouth. Tommy hissed, his hand gripping her hair as she swirled her tongue around him, tasting the salt of his skin. She took him deeper, her lips stretching around his thickness, her hand stroking what her mouth couldn’t reach. His cock throbbed against her tongue, veins pulsing under her touch, and she moaned, the vibration making him curse under his breath.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his hips twitching. “You’re gonna kill me.”
She pulled back, licking her lips, her eyes locked on his. “I want you inside me, Tommy. Now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted her off the desk, turning her to face it, bending her over the polished wood. Her dress was hiked up to her waist, and she braced her hands on the desk, her body trembling with anticipation. Tommy positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips, his cock brushing against her entrance.
“You ready for me, love?” he asked, his voice low, almost a growl.
“Yes,” she breathed, pushing back against him. “Please, Tommy.”
He entered her slowly, inch by inch, stretching her with his thick length. Y/N moaned, her body adjusting to his size, the sensation overwhelming. He filled her completely, his veins pulsing against her walls, and she clenched around him, drawing a groan from his lips.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said, his hands tightening on her hips. He began to move, slow at first, letting her feel every inch of him. Each thrust was deliberate, deep, his cock hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars. Y/N's moans filled the room, mingling with the creak of the desk and the sound of their bodies meeting.
“Tommy, harder,” she begged, her voice raw with need.
He obliged, his thrusts growing faster, more forceful, his hips slamming against hers. The desk shook beneath them, papers sliding to the floor, but neither cared. Tommy’s hand slid around to her front, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing in tight circles as he fucked her. Y/N cried out, her body trembling, the pleasure building to a crescendo.
“You like that, eh?” he said, his voice rough, his lips brushing her ear. “My cock deep inside you, my fingers on your pussy?”
“Yes,” she gasped, her nails digging into the wood. “God, yes, Tommy.”
He leaned over her, his chest pressed against her back, his glasses brushing her cheek as he kissed her neck. “You’re mine, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with affection. “Always mine.”
“I’m yours,” she whispered, her heart swelling even as her body burned. “Always.”
His fingers worked her clit faster, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, and Y/N felt the coil inside her tighten. “Tommy, I’m gonna come,” she moaned, her body trembling.
“Come for me, love,” he said, his voice a command and a plea. “Let me feel you.”
Her orgasm hit like a tidal wave, her pussy clenching around his cock, her body shaking as pleasure ripped through her. Tommy groaned, feeling her pulse around him, and he thrust harder, chasing his own release. Y/N's moans turned to cries, her body oversensitive but still craving more.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he growled, his thrusts growing erratic. “I’m close.”
“Come inside me, Tommy,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “I want to feel you.”
That was all it took. With a final, deep thrust, Tommy came, his cock pulsing as he spilled inside her, his groan muffled against her neck. They stayed like that for a moment, bodies pressed together, breathing heavy, the world outside forgotten.
Finally, he pulled out, turning her to face him. He kissed her softly, his glasses still on, his hands cupping her face. “You’re somethin’ else, Mrs Shelby,” he said, his voice warm, a rare smile breaking through.
She laughed, breathless, and kissed him back. “And you’re mine, Tommy. Glasses and all.”
They stood there, wrapped in each other, the chaos of Small Heath a distant hum. For now, it was just them—two souls bound by love, desire, and the unbreakable strength.
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Hi hi! I saw you where taking requests so I though I’d send one. A Tommy Shelby x Reader where they are dating and readers ex is trying to take her back but Tommy won’t let that happen. Maybe the ex is also a gangster from another gang or he could even be from the mafia and Reader and Tommy have to deal with this all while Tommy is very jealous and possessive. The issue resolves and it’s a fuffly end. Thank you!
i'm sorry this took me long time but i hope it's worth it and hope you like it :)
JEALOUSY SUITS SHELBY
The ballroom glittered with wealth and danger. Crystal chandeliers glowed above polished marble floors, politicians laughed too loudly, and the sound of jazz crept through the smoke of expensive cigars. Every man there pretended to be respectable. Every man there knew exactly who ruled the room. And that man stood beside you.
Tommy Shelby rested one hand casually in his pocket, the other holding a glass of whiskey. His sharp blue eyes scanned the room like a general studying a battlefield.
You stood at his side, your arm linked with his. His presence was calm, quiet… but dangerous.
“Bored already?” he murmured without looking at you.
“Only slightly,” you replied. “These politicians talk more than they think.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips.“Careful. They’ll hear you.”
Before you could reply, the sound of a familiar voice slipped through the crowd.
“Well, well… if it isn’t the woman who broke my heart.”
You froze. Turning slowly, you found yourself face to face with your former fiancé, while Tommy didn’t move , the air around him changed.
Your ex stepped closer with the confidence of a man who didn’t understand the danger he had just walked into.
“Been a long time,” he said smoothly. “You look… even more beautiful than I remember.” he praised you while his eyes scanned you upside down.
Tommy finally turned his head. His expression didn’t change, but his eyes darkened. “Who’s this?” he asked quietly.
Your ex extended a hand like this was a polite introduction. “The name’s Arthur Bennett. Used to be engaged to this lovely woman before she… found new company.”
Tommy didn’t shake his hand. Instead he slowly sipped his whiskey. " so you were engaged to my girl ay,” Tommy said calmly.
Arthur chuckled. “Well. Once upon a time.”
He leaned slightly closer to you. “I always wondered if you’d regret leaving.”
Tommy’s jaw tightened. The glass in his hand stopped halfway to his lips.
“Careful,” Tommy said softly. “You’re talking about something that belongs to me.”
Arthur laughed. “Oh come on. Surely she’s allowed to remember better days.”
Tommy set the glass down. Slowly , deliberately and stepped forward.
The room seemed to shrink.
“Better days?” Tommy repeated.
Arthur shrugged. “Before she started dating Birmingham gangsters.”
Tommy’s voice dropped lower.“Funny thing about Birmingham gangsters…”
He took another step closer. “They don’t like people touching what’s theirs.”
Arthur smirked and turned to you again. “You always liked dangerous men, didn’t you?”
Tommy’s patience snapped.
He grabbed Arthur by the collar and slammed him against the nearby pillar before anyone could react. Gasps rippled through the room.
Tommy leaned in close, his voice deadly quiet.
“You talk to my woman again,” he said, “and they’ll be scraping what’s left of you off the street outside.”
Arthur struggled slightly. “Relax, Shelby. Y/N is-”
“Say her name again,” Tommy whispered, “and I’ll break your jaw in front of Parliament.”
You stepped forward quickly. “Tommy.”
He didn’t move.
“Tommy.” Your hand gently touched his arm.
Slowly, his eyes flicked to you.
The fury there softened just a fraction.
“You’re making a scene,” you said calmly.
Arthur tried to laugh, though his voice shook slightly.
“She always did know how to calm a man down.”
Tommy’s grip tightened again.
“Tommy,” you said more firmly.
Your eyes met his.
That silent understanding.
After a moment, Tommy released him.
Arthur straightened his jacket, trying to regain dignity. “Well,” he said stiffly, “lovely seeing you again.”
Tommy leaned closer one last time. “Leave,” he said quietly. “While your legs still work.”
Arthur didn’t argue. He disappeared quickly into the crowd.
Silence lingered for a moment.
Then Tommy turned to you.
His expression was still stormy.
“You didn’t tell me you had a fiancé before,” he said.
“You didn’t ask.”
Tommy nodded once.
The house was quiet when you returned.
Too quiet.
The fire in the sitting room had burned low, shadows stretching across the walls as the door shut behind you. The cold night air followed you inside for a moment before disappearing again.
You removed your gloves slowly.
Across the room, Tommy stood by the desk. Still wearing his coat , still smoking. The orange glow of his cigarette lit his face briefly each time he inhaled.
He hadn’t said a word since the drive home. You knew that silence ,it meant he was thinking.
And when Tommy thought too long about something… it usually ended badly.
“You’re going to burn a hole through the floor if you keep pacing like that,” you said quietly.
Tommy stopped , slowly he turned to face you. “You were engaged to him.” The words were calm ,too calm.
You leaned against the chair, watching him carefully. “Yes.”
Tommy’s eyes narrowed slightly. “A rich man’s son from London,” he continued.
You didn’t reply.
“He owns half the factories in the city,” Tommy went on. “Family money. Political friends. Clean reputation.”
He flicked ash into the tray. Then he looked at you again. “And you left him.”
The unspoken question lingered heavily in the room. Why.
You sighed softly. “Tommy—”
“And now you’re here,” he said quietly.
His gaze was sharp now. “With me.”
The cigarette burned slowly between his fingers. “A gangster,” he continued. “A man the government watches. A man who has enemies in every corner of Birmingham.”
You crossed the room slowly.
Tommy watched every step.
“You could’ve had a comfortable life,” he said. “Big house in London. Parties. Money. Safety.”
He leaned back slightly against the desk. “Instead you chose me.”
You stopped in front of him. “Yes, I did”
Tommy studied your face carefully. “Why?”
The word came out quieter than the rest.
For all his confidence, for all the fear he commanded… There was doubt in his voice that surprised you.
You reached up and gently took the cigarette from his hand, putting it out. “Because that engagement meant nothing.”
Tommy frowned slightly. “Nothing?”
“It was business,” you replied calmly. “My father wanted influence. His father wanted connections.”
Tommy watched you closely. “So they arranged it.”
“Yes.” you folded your arms lightly. “I was supposed to marry him, smile at dinners, and produce heirs while our families shook hands over investments.”
Tommy’s jaw tightened slightly. “And you walked away.”
“I ran,” you corrected.
He tilted his head slightly. “For me?”
You smiled faintly. “No.”
Tommy’s eyebrow lifted.
“I ran because I didn’t want that life.”
You stepped closer until you were standing right in front of him then you placed your hands lightly against his chest. “And then I met you.”
Tommy didn’t move. “Which is worse,” he muttered quietly. “If you’re looking for a peaceful life.”
You laughed softly. “Tommy Shelby and peaceful don’t belong in the same sentence.”
He smirked slightly at that. But the doubt hadn’t completely left his eyes. “You could’ve chosen safety,” he said again.
You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “I chose something real.”
His gaze softened just a little.
“That man tonight,” Tommy said quietly, “he looked at you like he still owned something.”
You shrugged lightly.
“He owned a contract.”
Tommy’s hand moved slowly to your waist. “And now?”
You leaned closer, lowering your voice. “Now I belong exactly where I want to be.”
Tommy searched your face for a long moment. “You’re not afraid of me?” he asked quietly.
You smiled “I’ve seen what you’re capable of.”
“And you stayed.”
“Yes.”
His thumb traced slowly along your side.
“You should have better judgment,” he murmured.
“Maybe.” you tilted your head slightly. “But then I wouldn’t have you.”
That finally broke the last bit of tension in his shoulders.
Tommy exhaled slowly, pulling you closer against him.
His arms wrapped around you firmly. “You know,” he said quietly, “most women run from men like me.”
You rested your head lightly against his chest. “Good thing I’m not most women.”
A small silence settled between you.
Then you looked up at him with a playful smile. “Besides…”
Tommy raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
You traced a finger along his collar. “Jealousy suits you.”
Tommy scoffed quietly. “I’m not jealous.”
“You crossed an entire ballroom ready to start a fight.”
“That was observation.”
You laughed softly. “Sure it was.”
His lips curved into a faint smirk.
Then he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead. “Careful,” he murmured.
“Why?”
“Keep talking like that…”
His arms tightened slightly around you. “…and I might start getting jealous more often.”
You smiled against his chest.
For once, the storm inside him had completely disappeared.
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