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One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.

MUSIC: One and only by Adele

A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 5,477

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)

“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”

“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.

(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.

She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.

(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.

She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.

“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”

Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.

But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.

When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.

But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.

It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.

But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.

With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.

Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.

In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.

“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”

“Hunted what?”

“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”

He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.

“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.

She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”

Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.

Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?

She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.

What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.

She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.

She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.

It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.

If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.

Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.

She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.

He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.

Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.

A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.

It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.

On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.

Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.

“You.”

“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“The night we met.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”

Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”

(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”

Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.

“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.

He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.

“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”

He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.

“Why?”

She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”

She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”

What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.

Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.

“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.

“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.

She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.

“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”

He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.

Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.

The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.

It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.

“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”

And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.

She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”

He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.

“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”

“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”

“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”

“What is it then?”

He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.

She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.

“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”

She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.

“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”

Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”

(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”

But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”

You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.

(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.

“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”

He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.

“What do you want?” He asks, instead.

“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”

He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.

Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.

She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.

She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”

Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.

Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.

He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.

“I love you.”

She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.

“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”

She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.

Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.

The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.

#ely writes peaky blinders #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x fem!reader #peaky blinders x reader

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cerisemerald · 21 days

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Kurt teasing Logan while doing warm-ups just sounds so on brand for them

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cerisemerald · 21 days

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He is Not Listening

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cerisemerald · 21 days

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“What are we?” — Ada Sheby X Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Ada was sure of her affection for (Y/N) and was sure of how much she liked her company, but she had never questioned before what they truly were — until the day her heart quickened the pace at the simple sight of her lover in the kitchen, it's right then that Ada Shelby realises she is in love.

QUOTES: “What are we?” Ada asks, strongly biting her cheek afterwards, she didn’t see the words coming until it was too late.

A/N: feedback it always welcome!! this is the first fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it lmao) and it's very special to me because I love Ada a lot <33

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 1.704

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

Ada looks at the woman with a smile, she is still waking up, eyes lazily trying to stay open. When they both would sleep until late, Ada would always secretly try to wake up before her, so that she could watch those small moments of pure peace. It had a calming effect on her heart, seeing (Y/N) so relaxed and secure on her bed, her hair spread on the pillow as she comfortably stretched herself.

“Morning, love.” Ada says, getting up from the chair she was sitting on and walking to the bed.

“Morning.” (Y/N) mutters, sitting slowly and then pulling Ada in a hug, “why did you wake up so soon?”

“I have some business to solve,” she explains, caressing (Y/N)’s hair as she supports her head in her chest, Ada's smile growing while fondness fills her chest.

“It’s the second day of the week that you leave me alone in bed.” (Y/N) sighs.

“Stop being dramatic,” Ada chuckles, “you know I always try to stay with you as much as possible.”

“Hm, can’t I miss you any more?”

“Yes, (Y/N), you can,” Ada shakes her head negatively, but she was still smiling.

“Okay, I’ll make us breakfast.” (Y/N) gets up, gives a last sigh, and then turns to Ada to give her a peck before going to the bathroom.

Ada stays where she was, shifting a bit so that she can support her body with her arms extended to her back, watching as she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Mornings like this were rare now that she was working with her brother once again, so she made sure she could enjoy every single moment of it. Sometimes only watching (Y/N) roam the house was enough, sometimes she would ask her to just stay on the bed a while longer, wanting to rest all she could. But today seemed different, something seemed to be growing on her chest, she could not name it yet, but as (Y/N) turned to her with a smile before going to the kitchen, Ada felt herself getting warm. God, what was happening to her? With a shake of her head to dissipate those thoughts, she got up and went to the table once again, sitting on the chair and directing her attention to the papers she still had to read.

But it seemed that day would not be proper to work, her concentration quickly lost only some minutes later when the smell of eggs came from the kitchen, she had not realised how hungry she was. Soon she got up and left her work once more, stopping at the kitchen door to watch (Y/N) finish cooking.

It hit her like a train wreck.

Maybe it was the way she was dressed that day, wearing a new nightgown that Ada had given her a few weeks ago, it was baby blue silk, and it shaped her body delicately, she looked like an angel dressed in it. The fabric was so light it gave her an air of softness, her movements graceful. Or maybe it was the way she looked so relaxed, still not ready for the day, her hair messy and without any jewellery on her neck, neither bracelets nor earrings. She looked natural, nothing about her could drift the attention from her face. Or her body. Whatever it was, Ada could not take her eyes away from her, the way her profile looked when the few sun rays illuminating the room shone on her face, the way she was quietly humming a song, all of that made it impossible to look away.

That was when (Y/N) turned around, raising an eyebrow at her, as if questioning why she was standing there instead of coming in. She smiled then, seeming happy with the way Ada was looking at her.

And it was as if the world stopped. An epiphany.

Ada felt her heart beat a little faster, her face warming. It was like being awakened abruptly, confusion mixing with all the other feelings in her brain. Had she ever felt her heart beat so fast, staring at (Y/N) before?

“Hungry?” She asks, and even her voice has an effect, Ada feels herself melting.

She tries to respond, but the words do not come, she licks her lips and finally looks away, it is only to think what to say, only to organise her thoughts, but that makes (Y/N) come closer to her, a furrow on her face, confused. And as she hears her walking closer, Ada's mind starts to scramble again.

“What’s wrong, darling?” (Y/N) asks, only a few steps away, Ada looks at her again and notices she is being cautious to approach her, “are you alright?”

“What are we?” Ada asks, strongly biting her cheek afterwards, she didn’t see the words coming until it was too late.

“Ada?” (Y/N) frowned, “what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Ada clears her throat, she herself does not know exactly what she meant with that question. So she tells the truth first, “honestly, I don’t know,” Ada shrugs, “I just… I had never stopped to think about what we are, I think? And I… you…”

(Y/N) takes another step, “I what?”

“I love you.” Ada whispers, her voice is not strong enough to convey her feelings, so she says it again, “I love you. And we never talked about this before (Y/N), what are we?”

(Y/N) face softens, a small smile plays on her lips and she walks forward to envelop Ada in a hug. “I love you too,” she says in her ear and Ada feels herself with wet eyes, she has never lost her control so fast. “Why that suddenly, darling?” She asks, not rude, just curious.

“‘Cause…” Ada sighs, “‘cause I had never realised I was in love, I guess.”

(Y/N) nods against her, “and this is the first time you ever felt this way with me?”

“Well, yes. I have loved you before, I think, it just never hit me like this.”

(Y/N) distance herself only enough so that she can hold her face caringly, “We never talked about it before, because we were just getting to know each other, I guess. It takes time to trust.” Ada nods at her words, “but we can be whatever you want.”

Ada bites her lips, feeling a bit breezy, her eyes can stop roaming all of her lover's face. She is thinking, she doesn't want to say the wrong thing, to explain herself harshly, these feelings are new, and she wants to express them perfectly.

“What is bothering you is the feeling or the fact we never discussed this before?” (Y/N) asks her, a bit worried again.

“The fact we never discussed it before,” she is quick to answer, “I'd never feel bad about loving you.”

(Y/N) nods, but doesn't say anything, she knows Ada still has something to say.

“It's just…” Ada begins, taking in a deep breath before continuing, “we always behave like we have something and, indeed, we have something, but we never talk about it. You spend more time with me now than in your own house, and you always bring Snowy,” (Y/N) smiles at the mention of her cat, “even Karl is attached with the both of you now. We take long walks talking about everything, as if we had nothing else to do. We stay awake ‘till dawn just to have more time together, you put Karl to sleep and read to him every time I can’t.” (Y/N) only expects in silence, giving Ada her time to say everything that was going through her mind, “so it makes me wonder, what are we?”

“And…” Ada goes on, a quick breath between discourses, “none of it bothers me, the fact we have lived all of this together for all these months without a name to it. I just… I guess I want to have a name now.”

“Ada,” (Y/N) says, gently, and so caring, “I love you.”

Ada feels emotion overwhelming her again, it is a simple phrase, she has heard before, she has had a lover before, but still, it finds a new place inside her heart, it carves a new name on her ribcage, it makes her skin tingle with pleasure.

“And I will be whatever you want.” (Y/N) goes on, “if you want to call me yours, then that is what I am, yours, and only yours.” She gives her a kiss on the corner of her mouth, caressing the side of her face sweetly, “we don't need to decide it now, we can talk about it more, take things slow, but I want you to know that nameless or not, I have been yours for all this time.”

Ada nods, feeling a single tear falling from her eyes, “I do like the sound of that.”

(Y/N) smiles, wiping the tear away, “do you?”

It takes her a while to be able to answer, not exactly sure why, when she knows, when the answer is so clear in her own mind.

“Yes,” she whispers, at last, the word full of love.

“Then I am yours,” Ada's eyes follow (Y/N)’s movement, enticed by the way she smiles before kissing her jawline, trailing sweet and sickening kisses all the way to her lips, she stops them, lips hovering over hers, “and you're mine.”

She likes that, she really does. Ada pulls her to finally kiss as if her life depends on it, she can't think of anything else right now, there is only their hands holding each other while they kiss. Ada feels her heart finally calming, that nameless thing stops growing and instead turns into a song inside her chest. She is still singing when they pull apart. She is still singing even when the day ends, when they finally lay to sleep, and she can whisper on (Y/N)'s ears how much she loves her, her heart is still singing even when her eyes are closed, and she hears the last words coming out of (Y/N)'s mouth.

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cerisemerald · 21 days

Text

“what are we?” moodboard — Ada Shelby x Fem!Reader

summary: Ada was sure of her affection for (Y/N) and was sure of how much she liked her company, but she had never questioned before what they truly were — until the day her heart quickened the pace at the simple sight of her lover in the kitchen, it's right then that Ada Shelby realises she is in love.

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cerisemerald · 21 days

Text

“what are we?” moodboard — Ada Shelby x Fem!Reader

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders moodboard #ada shelby #ada shelby x fem!reader

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cerisemerald · 21 days

Text

“What are we?” — Ada Sheby X Fem!Reader

QUOTES: “What are we?” Ada asks, strongly biting her cheek afterwards, she didn’t see the words coming until it was too late.

A/N: feedback it always welcome!! this is the first fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it lmao) and it's very special to me because I love Ada a lot <33

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 1.704

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

“Morning, love.” Ada says, getting up from the chair she was sitting on and walking to the bed.

“Morning.” (Y/N) mutters, sitting slowly and then pulling Ada in a hug, “why did you wake up so soon?”

“I have some business to solve,” she explains, caressing (Y/N)’s hair as she supports her head in her chest, Ada's smile growing while fondness fills her chest.

“It’s the second day of the week that you leave me alone in bed.” (Y/N) sighs.

“Stop being dramatic,” Ada chuckles, “you know I always try to stay with you as much as possible.”

“Hm, can’t I miss you any more?”

“Yes, (Y/N), you can,” Ada shakes her head negatively, but she was still smiling.

“Okay, I’ll make us breakfast.” (Y/N) gets up, gives a last sigh, and then turns to Ada to give her a peck before going to the bathroom.

It hit her like a train wreck.

That was when (Y/N) turned around, raising an eyebrow at her, as if questioning why she was standing there instead of coming in. She smiled then, seeming happy with the way Ada was looking at her.

And it was as if the world stopped. An epiphany.

“Hungry?” She asks, and even her voice has an effect, Ada feels herself melting.

“What’s wrong, darling?” (Y/N) asks, only a few steps away, Ada looks at her again and notices she is being cautious to approach her, “are you alright?”

“What are we?” Ada asks, strongly biting her cheek afterwards, she didn’t see the words coming until it was too late.

“Ada?” (Y/N) frowned, “what do you mean?”

(Y/N) takes another step, “I what?”

“I love you.” Ada whispers, her voice is not strong enough to convey her feelings, so she says it again, “I love you. And we never talked about this before (Y/N), what are we?”

“‘Cause…” Ada sighs, “‘cause I had never realised I was in love, I guess.”

(Y/N) nods against her, “and this is the first time you ever felt this way with me?”

“Well, yes. I have loved you before, I think, it just never hit me like this.”

“What is bothering you is the feeling or the fact we never discussed this before?” (Y/N) asks her, a bit worried again.

“The fact we never discussed it before,” she is quick to answer, “I'd never feel bad about loving you.”

(Y/N) nods, but doesn't say anything, she knows Ada still has something to say.

“Ada,” (Y/N) says, gently, and so caring, “I love you.”

Ada nods, feeling a single tear falling from her eyes, “I do like the sound of that.”

(Y/N) smiles, wiping the tear away, “do you?”

It takes her a while to be able to answer, not exactly sure why, when she knows, when the answer is so clear in her own mind.

“Yes,” she whispers, at last, the word full of love.

#ely writes peaky blinders #peaky blinders #ada shelby #Ada thorne #ada shelby x reader #ada thorne x reader #ada shelby x fem!reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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