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#Tommy Shelby smut
lovelybucky1 · 5 months
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Treat Me Wrong
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Kinktober Day 16- Degradation Kink
warnings: AFAB!Reader, manipulation, gaslighting, cheating, sex work, roleplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, 18+ minors DNI
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“I think we should break up,” you say.
Tommy’s face twists in anger and confusion. “Where’d you get that idea?” he asks.
This is exactly why you want to break up. He’s so dismissive and he doesn’t respect you. He’s sitting relaxed in his chair like you didn’t just suggest ending your relationship. Why is it so difficult for him to care about you?
“I’m not happy!” you say.
Tommy scoffs in response. “You live like a princess. What else could you possibly need?”
“Love and attention,” you huff.
“Christ,” he shakes his head in disbelief. “Are you a child? Do you really need me to attend to you all day to be content?”
“Not all day, Tommy. Just sometimes. What's the point in even having a lover if you won't spend time with them?"
"You act like I have a lot of free time to waste. I'm a very busy man."
His way of having excuses for everything make you feel like you're going insane.
"You have enough time to spend with prostitutes," you say bitterly. This makes Tommy perk up. "I know you go to see them after work and lie to me when you get home late. Why do you bother stringing me along if you'd rather pay for your companionship?"
Tommy chuckles darkly. "That's what this is about, eh?"
"Why the fuck are you laughing, Tommy?"
He stands up from his chair and crosses the room to stand in front of you. He places one hand on your hip while the other holds his cigarette. The smoke swirls in front of your face, the pungent smell burning your nose.
"You're jealous of my whores?" he asks smugly.
"What do they have that I don't," you ask angrily.
"I have certain needs that they satisfy."
You scoff and push his hand off of you. "We're together, Tommy. You should come to me to satisfy your needs, not step out on me."
Tommy rolls his eyes and grabs ahold of your wrist. "What I need isn't appropriate for a high society woman like yourself."
You furrow your brows in confusion, but no matter what he's talking about, you want to be able to provide it for him. "You don't get to decide what's appropriate for me or not. Besides, you'd know that I'm very adventurous if you ever took the time to actually be intimate with me."
He blinks slowly at you and licks his lips, then smirks devilishly. "You want me to treat you like one of my whores?"
"Yes, Tommy."
"Right." Tommy stubs his cigarette out in the ashtray on the side table, the turns his attention back to you. Both of his hands are on your hips now, holding you firmly. "You promise not to get upset?"
"Why would I get upset?"
Tommy fights back a smirk. "Because I tend to be a bit... harsh."
"Harsh?" you ask.
"You said you want me to fuck you like a whore. A dirty, cheap, used up whore that's only good for taking cock. Is that right?" You hesitantly nod. "Then until I'm finished, that's exactly what you're going to be. I'm only going to stop if you tell me to, otherwise I'm going to have you just like I have them."
"Okay," you breathe.
Tommy steps away from you and sits back in his chair. "Take your dress off," he instructs.
You find it a bit odd that he's just watching instead of also getting undressed, but it does make you feel better that the prostitutes he visits don't get to see him naked.
You strip piece by piece until you're bare in front of him. He stands up again and looks over your body, occasionally prodding and groping you.
"Turn around," he says, voice low. You do as he says and you allow yourself to be moved over to the couch. Tommy pushes you so you're bent at the waist over the arm rest, bare ass on display.
Tommy continues to grope you; he slaps your cheeks, spreads and slaps them, and teases at your folds.
“Wet already? Didn’t think whores got off on their work,” he says.
Without much prep, he shoves two fingers into your cunt. Like a true whore, you take them easily. He opens you up by scissoring his fingers inside you. He's going quickly, not bothering to take his time and make it pleasurable for you. You suppose he pays for his own pleasure, not yours.
"Already loose too. How many others did you have today?" he asks. When you don't answer him, he delivers a slap to your ass.
"N-none," you whimper.
"Sounds like business is slow."
He pulls his fingers out of you and wipes your wetness on your thigh. He then moves to press his hips against yours, allowing you to feel the bulge in his slacks. He grinds up against you shamelessly, making you feel even more humiliated now that he's simulating fucking you while he's fully dressed.
"Tell me you want my cock," he orders.
"I want your cock," you parrot with a whine in your voice.
"You can be more convincing than that," he says with a slap to your ass. "Be a good whore and beg me to fuck you."
You take a deep breath. "Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad... Mr. Shelby," you add for good measure.
That seems to please him, because he moves away from you far enough to pull his cock through his fly. He rubs the head through your folds, teasing your entrance with it.
"I'm not going to catch anything from fucking you raw, am I?" he asks, though he knows the answer.
"No, sir," you reply.
You're glad he bent you over like this, because that means he can't see your embarrassed face and you don't have to look into his intimidating eyes.
"Mm, good."
He pushes inside you, not gently but he doesn't aim to hurt you. Once he's fully seated inside, he begins to thrust before you're ready for it. You gasp in surprise, but you're helpless to do anything but take it.
"Didn't think pussy so cheap would take me so well," he groans. His hands grip tightly on your hips and he slams you back to meet each of his thrusts. His cock bumps against your cervix uncomfortably, but it feels best for him when you take it all the way, and that's the only thing that matters.
With each thrust, you make a punched out little moan. Tommy, however, is silent above you, save for a bit of heavy breathing. It isn't until you arch your back and really start putting on a show that he speaks up.
"Like a fuckin' professional, eh? I should come to you more often. Y'know, my woman's a real bitch sometimes. Never lets me fuck her like this. Thinks she's too good to get bent over. Has so many opinions, too. But you're a good woman; quiet, tight," he leans down, draping himself over your back to speak into your ear. "Obedient."
You can't help but moan at his filthy words, despite how degrading they are. You shouldn't find your lover talking badly about you so arousing, but you cant help it.
"She gets so mad I cheat on her but I think she'd understand if she felt this cunt for herself. 'm gonna marry her and fuck her full of babies to keep her busy while I give the real good stuff to you."
"Fuck," you whimper and immediately regret it.
"You like when I talk to you like a whore? You like getting fucked hard like I don't love you?"
It's rare that Tommy says he loves you. So rare, in fact, that you often doubt if it's true.
"Yes, yes," you gasp. "I love you."
"Mm," he hums. "Save it for when I'm not paying you."
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mypoisonedvine · 7 months
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A tommy idea: he hires us to help take care of his kids when they’re home but he soon realizes that he likes us more and more seeing how maternal we are with them. He’s constantly checking us out, when we bend over he’s always accidentally bedons us, good girl girl and praising us for doing well taking care of them, and the idea of us carrying his next baby also turns him on so much
oh my goddddd!! this turned out pretty short cause I wrote it in my car on break from work 😭 but I just had to do this concept pronto
warnings: SMUT 18+ ONLY, slightly dubious consent (tommy is a little... pushy), age gap (not specified, everybody's grown), breeding kink
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You were bouncing the little one on your hip when he came in; you gestured to the older child, already asleep, as a reminder to Thomas to speak softly so she wouldn't wake.
He approached you slowly, waving a quick hello to the baby but otherwise just watching him slowly shut his eyes as he drifted off.
"The children adore you," he noticed, smiling proudly, "as do I."
"I adore them," you returned, "and I'm... thankful you hired me to care for them."
You felt his gaze on you as you gently laid the baby in his crib, feeling a little strange about him standing so close behind you while you were bent over. "Don't you ever want any of your own?" he asked, lowering his voice a bit. "You'd make a lovely mother..."
He trailed off for a moment, his fingers brushing over your back through your dress, making your breath catch.
"...and such a sweet little wife, too," he added with a slow breath. You shuddered, turning to face him and completely intending to tell him how inappropriate this was, but the look in his eyes shut you up in a second.
"M-Mr. Shelby..." you mumbled, blinking up at him as he stepped closer again, nearly pressing his body to yours-- you tried to step back but only found yourself pressed against the crib.
"Well?" he pressed. "Don't you want children?"
"M-maybe someday," you answered nervously, struggling to keep your attention on the conversation when he rubbed your arm through your sleeve. "But I think I'm still too young--"
He knit his brows together, shaking his head. "Oh, no-- you're the perfect age for it, darling..."
You swallowed thickly, his fingers running gently over your jaw and lifting your chin so he could get a better look at your nervous, confused expression.
"You should have one," he decided suddenly, "and I should have another."
You opened your mouth to disagree, but nothing really came out... instead, he just pulled you into a kiss: slow, gentle, patient. You knew Tommy could be a volatile man, even violent, but you'd never known he could be so tender.
Of course, it didn't last long. He was anything but slow or gentle or patient when he had you in his bedroom, pressed up against the wall as he drove into you mercilessly, holding your legs open as he grunted with each rough thrust into your heat. "Good girl," he growled as your head fell back with a sigh of pleasure, "look how well you take it. I knew you needed a baby in you, darling-- as soon as I saw you, I knew. This body of yours just begging to be bred..."
You whined and bit your lip, but a hard thrust that went just a bit too deep made you yelp loudly-- and his hand quickly snapped over your mouth, muffling your noises as he panted in your ear.
"Shh, not so loud," he warned, "you don't want to wake the baby..."
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darkshelbyfiction · 6 months
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birthday gift
FOR: THOMAS SHELBY X VIRGIN READER
Warning: Somewhat Incestuous, Virginity Loss, Innocence Kink, Smut
Summary: You are Tommy Shelby's adult stepdaughter. On your birthday at Arrow House, he comes to your room and tells you that he has a special gift for you, but you cannot tell your mother about it.
Note: All Characters are over eighteen!
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The ticking of the clock echoed softly in the dimly lit bedroom, marking the passage of time on your birthday night and marking it two years since you moved to Arrow House with your mother Sarah who now was married to Thomas Shelby, the infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders.
You lay curled beneath the sheets, your heart beating rapidly within your chest. You could not shake the uneasiness and excitement gnawing at your insides.
What did your stepfather mean when he wanted to give you a special but secret gift for your birthday, you wondered?
You remember how, over dinner, he leaned forward and stared at you intensely before finally saying, "I have something very special planned for tonight. Something you cannot tell your mother about." It left you feeling both curious and apprehensive at the same time.
But you couldn't resist him, not after all these years of seeing his intense gaze and admiring his muscular body. So, you agreed to meet him at midnight, in your private chambers, so that he could give to you whatever it was he wanted to give to you.
And now, here you were, lying awake in your bedroom, wondering what would happen next.
The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts. There he stood, dominant and enigmatic in his black pants and a shirt, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He closed the door gently behind him and crossed the room, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hello, Sweetheart," he said softly, his voice carrying an undertone of warmth and reassurance. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he approached the bed.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands settling on your shoulders lightly as you too sat up, revealing your modest nightgown to him. 
With tenderness, he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"You said that you had something special planned for me tonight," you started nervously, trying to formulate your question. "Will I need to get dressed for that? Will you be taking me somewhere?" you asked, but Tommy shook his head. 
"That's right, sweetheart. I have something special planned for you, but it does not involve us leaving the house," he replied softly, his eyes still holding yours with their intensity.
"So, what do you have planned then, Tommy?" you asked curiously with your cheeks blushing in several shades of red and pink. 
"I want to make you feel really good Y/N, would you like that?" your stepfather announced. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, and an even deeper blush crept across your face as you nodded hesitantly. You knew deep down that something about this was wrong, but the thought of pleasing him as well as the attraction you felt towards him overwhelmed any doubts.
Tommy shifted closer, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, pulling you against his firm body as, still, you were sitting next to him, just much closer now. 
"Has another man ever made you feel good down there?" he asked gently, running his fingers over the naked flesh of your thighs, all the way to the area beneath your nightgown.
You swallowed nervously, your cheeks reddening even further. You hadn't ever discussed such things with anyone before, especially not with a man like your stepfather. 
"No, no one," you admitted, finding yourself answering truthfully, your voice wavering slightly. "No, nobody has ever touched me there." You watched his expression change from curiosity to relief, his eyes searching yours for understanding.
"So, no one has ever touched your pussy, eh?" Tommy clarified, his voice gentle yet commanding. 
"No" you confirmed, feeling the nervousness building up inside you. You didn't quite understand why you were suddenly feeling anxious, but you realized that this was something different from the other experiences you had shared with your stepfather. You felt vulnerable, yet excited by the prospect of discovering new sensations together.
"Would you like me to touch your pussy?" Tommy then inquired gently, stroking your hair once more to calm your nerves. Your heart raced, and your palms grew clammy with anticipation.
Nodding timidly, you gave a hesitant, yet enthusiastic affirmative. Your eyes locked with his, conveying trust and eagerness.
"Good," he murmured, bringing his hand to your waist, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric of your nightgown. "It will feel nice, I promise," he told you as, with tender precision, he slid the fabric aside, exposing your delicate thighs to the cool air.
"Spread your legs a little, Sweetheart," Tommy said and, after you reluctantly complied, he slowly slipped his hand into your panties, his finger making contact with your virgin cunt.
"Relax," he cooed, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead as he still sat next to you, gently touching your sensitive folds.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Sweetheart. I won't hurt you. I will just make you feel good, eh?" His voice was reassuring, his touch tender, and you found yourself calming down under his guidance.
"Does it feel nice?" your stepfather then asked gently, his finger continuing to stroke your inner folds, evoking sensations you had never experienced before. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, and focusing on the sensations coursing through your body.
"Yes, it feels strange but nice," you admitted softly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze.
"Good girl," he reassured you, a warm smile on his face as he continued to run his fingers over your cunt gently before, finally, removing them and bringing them to his lips.
He tasted your essence and smiled. "See, you are already getting wet for me too," he said while using his soaked fingers to gesture towards your moistening panties. 
Your face flushed crimson, and you turned away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"Why am I getting wet?" you asked quietly, feeling embarrassed.
"Because your body is responding to my touch Sweetheart. It wants more if it," he explained, his voice warm and comforting. "It's a natural reaction."
As he spoke, his hand continued to caress your inner thigh, drawing circles on your soft skin.
"Just relax and enjoy it," he advised gently, his tone reassuring as his fingers dipped back into your folds, gently circling and teasing your budding entrance. You moaned in response, your body relaxing slowly, giving into his touch. 
"Can I have a look at your pussy? I would really like to see it," Tommy eventually whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 
"Okay, but just quickly," you nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself.
"Okay Sweetheart. How about you take off your nightgown and panties for me and lie down. I will only have a quick look, eh?" Tommy said, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Okay, Tommy," you replied, carefully removing your nightgown and panties as your stepfather had instructed.
Lying down on the bed, you felt exposed and vulnerable, but Tommy seemed to sense your discomfort. With his gentle touch, he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, positioning your entrance at eye level.
His eyes traced every curve and fold of your pink, wet flesh, a mix of desire and admiration flashing in his eyes. "This is beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Tommy then kneeled by your side and touched your wet folds again, his eyes hungry with desire.
"Can I have a look inside?" Tommy asked softly, leaning closer. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you nodded hesitantly, unable to say no to him. He gently placed his finger on your labia, testing your readiness. 
With two fingers, he then opened you up, exposing your inner flesh to his gaze gently by parting your lips and saying, "I am going to put one finger inside you now, Sweetheart," his eyes glazed over with lust. 
You trembled, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You felt the gentle pressure of his index finger as it pressed against your tight entrance, gradually working its way inside you.
"Is this alright, Love?" he asked, his voice full of concern. You nodded, trying to stay composed as the sensation of having something foreign inside you sent shockwaves throughout your body.
"Is this, okay? Can I go a bit deeper?" he repeated, making sure you were comfortable with his ministrations.
"Yes, it's fine. You can go a bit deeper I think," you replied, trying to maintain composure.
The feeling of your stepfather's finger inside you was both alien and enticing, sending waves of excitement coursing through your body.
"I can go even deeper if you wish, past your hymen," he offered gently, his fingers probing further within you. You hesitated, unsure of how far you were willing to go. "Only if you're ready," he added, assuring you of his care and respect.
"I don't know," you stammered, your breath catching in your throat while Tommy withdrew his finger from your wet folds.
"That's fine, Sweetheart," he said, before making another inquiry. "Perhaps I could kiss you down there for a while? That will help you relax," he said gently, leaning closer.
You hesitated, feeling torn between your instinctive response and your trust in him. Ultimately, you nodded hesitantly, allowing him to continue.
Soon, his lips brushed against your sensitive folds, exploring the terrain with his tongue. The sensation was foreign yet inviting, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
"Do you like that?" he asked softly, his mouth lingering against your sensitive flesh.
"Yes," you breathed out, your heart racing as his touch became more intimate.
"Do you want more?" he asked gently, his thumb gliding along your sensitive folds, eliciting sensations you had never experienced before.
You nodded, tentatively giving in to his guidance. As his fingers teased and explored your inner depths, he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes seeking approval from you.
"I want to taste more of you, Sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes reflecting a mix of tenderness and hunger. You hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
"What should I do?" you asked, looking into his eyes for guidance.
"Just relax and let me make you feel good," he replied, his voice soothing. 
With gentle ease, he lowered his head and began kissing and suckling your most intimate parts, evoking sensations that sent ripples of pleasure through your entire being.
As he explored your folds with his mouth, you couldn't help but let out small cries of ecstasy, reveling in the novelty of the experience.
His tongue danced along your inner walls, evoking feelings you had never imagined possible. In that moment, you knew that you wanted more, craving the unique blend of pleasure and vulnerability that his touch provided.
"You are incredibly responsive," Tommy complimented you, the tip of his tongue darting across your sensitive flesh.
"It feels amazing," you confessed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you tried to hold onto the intense sensations coursing through your body.
"I didn't know it could feel like this," you whispered, your breath hitching in your throat. "And it makes me want more," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a mixture of wonder and arousal.
Tommy pulled away slightly, his face filled with pride and satisfaction at having brought you to such heights of pleasure. "It is an incredible experience, isn't it?" he said softly, stroking your cheek with his hand.
"Yes, it is amazing Tommy. Is that what you do with my mum?" you asked, feeling a sudden burst of curiosity.
"No, we do things differently, Love" he assured you gently, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and respect for your mother. "But it's time for you to explore these sensations," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. His hand returned to your folds, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your wetness, teasing and pleasuring you. The sensations were unfamiliar yet intensely gratifying, causing your body to respond with increasing fervor.
"What do you do with her and the other women you visit?" you asked, your curiosity piqued by the intensity of the sensations he had brought forth in you.
"Well," he began, thinking of the right words to say before simply telling you straight-out, "I usually put my cock into their holes, Love." 
"Into here?" you asked, touching your cunt while feeling intrigued and yet nervous at the thought.
"Yes, Love. It goes in there sometimes, and it feels really nice when it is inside," he replied gently, his hand expertly moving your hand out of the way and stroking your folds as he talked.
"Would you like me to do this to you?" His question took you by surprise, sending waves of nervousness and curiosity coursing through your body. "I think you would enjoy it," he said, smirking slightly. 
"Uhm, I don't know Tommy. Can I see it first? Your penis, I mean," you said, your curiosity growing.
Tommy smiled, understanding your hesitation.
"Of course, Sweetheart," he replied, sitting up and undoing his trousers. He revealed his erect member, which was already dripping with precum. It stood tall and proud, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.
"It's big," you said, your eyes fixated on his impressive length.
"Not too big, just right for you," he replied confidently, his voice filled with pride. "I think you will find it pleasurable, if you let me put it into you." 
You looked up at him, still feeling uneasy but intrigued by the idea of experiencing something new. "Will it hurt?" you asked, a slight quiver in your voice betraying your apprehension.
"Only at first." He assured you gently.
Your eyes traveled from his erection to his face, searching for reassurance in his gaze.
"Okay, yes, you can put it inside me. But just for a little bit," you finally agreed, your voice wavering with uncertainty.
"Good girl. I will be gentle. Now, how about you lie down for me, eh?" Tommy suggested, helping you get into a more comfortable position.
You obeyed, lying down on your back, your breath coming in short gasps as you awaited his next move.
Tommy undressed quickly and then positioned himself between your legs, his eyes filled with desire as he looked upon his prize. He reached down and tenderly caressed your cheek, smiling reassuringly.
"Are you ready to become a woman, Sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and full of anticipation, and you nodded hesitantly, steeling yourself for the unknown journey ahead. 
Tommy positioned himself between your legs, his large member teasingly close to your entrance. Slowly, gently, he pushed inside you, guiding himself with careful precision. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he entered you, filling you with his presence. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of concern and adoration evident in his eyes.
You gasped, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, yet yearning for more. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, both from the intensity of the sensation and the emotional weight of the moment.
"Am I hurting you?" Tommy asked gently, his own breath quickening in anticipation. "Yes," you replied, surprised by the intensity of the sensation, yet eager to continue. "But just a little. Please keep going," you urged, wanting to overcome the initial discomfort and fully embrace the sensations. Tommy nodded, his eyes softening with affection as he adjusted his position, ensuring maximum comfort for both of you.
"You are very tight, Sweetheart. Much tighter than your mother," he said appreciatively, his brow furrowing with concentration as he began to move inside you.
"It hurts a bit," you admitted, wincing as the sensation intensified. "Is it normal?" you asked, feeling both embarrassed and concerned.
"Of course, Sweetheart. It is normal. You have never done this before," he replied, his expression mirroring a mix of tenderness and understanding. "It's natural. Just take your time, and remember to breathe deeply, eh," he instructed, guiding you into a slow rhythm that helped steady your breathing.
"There, that's it. Let go of any tension, Love," he murmured, his voice soothing your nerves. With each thrust, you could feel the pressure gradually dissipating, replaced by a wave of unexpected pleasure. The feeling of fullness engulfed you completely, sending shivers down your spine.
Despite the pain, you found yourself becoming aroused by the intensity of the sensations.
Each movement by Tommy seemed to increase the pressure, pushing you closer to the edge of pleasure. Your body began to arch and writhe beneath him, craving the release of the building tension. Your moans filled the air, signaling your increasing need for fulfillment.
Tommy noticed your response and adjusted his pace accordingly, his movements becoming more deliberate and focused. The sensations intensified, igniting a fire within you that burned brightly. Your cries of ecstasy echoed throughout the room, causing your body to tremble in anticipation.
The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. Your body convulsed underneath Tommy, unable to resist the urge to come. As the peak approached, you felt the world around you spinning, your vision turning black as your mind succumbed to the all-consuming bliss.
Finally, the climax came, washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure. Your muscles contracted involuntarily, pulling Tommy deeper into you.
He groaned in satisfaction, his hands grasping your hips firmly until he could not hold it anymore. 
With a final surge of power, he gave one last thrust, coming deep inside you, his entire body shuddering with ecstasy. 
"What just happened?" you asked, your eyes wide with shock. Your body still trembled from the overwhelming sensations, your mind trying to process the experience.
"You just had your first orgasm," Tommy answered gently, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I am glad I could give that to you, Sweetheart."
"I didn't expect it to feel so good," you admitted, your voice still shaky from the intensity of the moment. "But I really liked it."
"I promised, didn't I, eh?" Tommy chuckled as he pulled out of you and with him came a thick stream of sticky liquid which ultimately leaked onto the sheets beneath you.
"What, uhm...what is that?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the fluid that had just come out of you when Tommy pulled his cock out of your cunt. 
"That's called cum, Love," Tommy explained gently, using a clean towel to wipe the excess fluid off your body. "It happens when a man orgasms. It's normal, so don't worry, eh."
He cleaned you thoroughly, making sure to remove any traces of his essence. He then wiped himself clean with a towel, disposing of it neatly in the bin.
"Now, Love, I think you should rest. I believe you have gone through quite an experience today," he said, his voice full of fatherly concern. "I want you to lie down and sleep for a few hours. And tomorrow, we will talk some more, eh?" Tommy said, planting a kiss on your forehead. "But remember, all of this needs to stay our little secret. Your mother cannot find out about this," Tommy reminded you, his voice stern and protective. "Promise me."
"I promise," you said solemnly, pledging your loyalty to the secret they were sharing.
"Good girl," Tommy replied, relieved. "Now, get some rest, Sweetheart." 
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willsdreamgirl · 7 months
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“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆。˚
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tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
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ssweetleaf · 2 months
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tommy shelby x fem!reader
summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.
includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here
a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3
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“What’s a good girl like you doin’ with a boy like Finn, eh?”
It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.
It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.
So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?
Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.
He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.
You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.
"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"
Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.
"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.
"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"
"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"
An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.
You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.
Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.
"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"
You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.
He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.
"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.
You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?
"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.
"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"
You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.
"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.
His reply was simple.
"You heard me."
"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.
"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."
You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.
"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.
"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.
"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.
“Do you want to?” He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.
“M-maybe…”
“Come here,” Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.
“Do you want me to show you what it’s like?” He cooed all condescending and mocking, “Do you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?”
“Mr Shelby, what about Finn?” His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.
“Fuck Finn,” he spoke slowly, “you forget about him when I’m talking to you, you understand me?”
You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.
“Yes, Mr Shelby,”
“No, no, none of that,” he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. “You address me properly.”
You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.
“Come on, sweet girl,” he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. “I’m your daddy now, isn’t that right?”
You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.
Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sure— and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.
“Yes,” you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, “yes, daddy.”
His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.
You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.
"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"
You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.
So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.
Yeah, that was no act.
Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.
Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.
Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.
The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.
He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.
You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.
Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.
"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."
You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.
He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.
"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"
You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.
"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."
"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."
You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.
"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."
Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.
"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."
You nodded, cheeks searing.
"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."
He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.
You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.
"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.
You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.
The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?
Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.
Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.
"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."
Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.
So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.
"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.
"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.
"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.
You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.
"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.
With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.
"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"
He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.
You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.
"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"
With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.
You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.
He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.
Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.
"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."
You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.
"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.
Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.
He'd have all of you soon enough.
You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.
"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."
You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.
One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.
"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."
He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.
"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."
Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.
He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.
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call-sign-shark · 3 months
Text
Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.
Words: 2,3k
TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.
Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.
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It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.
Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.
Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.
But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.
From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…
Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.
Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.
The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.
The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.
The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.
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“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.
“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.
“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."
"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.
"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.
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The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.
You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.
Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.
“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.
“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”
“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”
“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.
“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.
One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.
Do it again.
Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.
His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.
His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.
His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.
The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”
The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.
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Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood
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jomarch-wannabe · 11 months
Text
Sold (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader)
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Pairings: Tommy Shelby x Gold's daughter!Reader
Synopsis: The coin lands on tails
Warnings: Smut 🔞(implied age gap, dubcon/noncon, virginity loss, p in v sex, rough sex, cursing, praise kink, sir kink, choking, overstimulation) Angst (anxiety, crying, manipulation, blood loss)
Author's note: I thought of this on a whim one day and went with it. Definitely a darker portrayal of Tommy.. read at your own discretion.
CH. ONE CH. TWO
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“I’m gonna spin a coin for your yard Charlie.”
“You goin’ what?”
“If it’s heads, Abe here takes all this,” Tommy explained with an extended hand, “with my blessing.”
“Tommy!”
“And if it’s tails,” Tommy paused, flicking his eyes to Aberama's cocked brow. “I fuck your daughter Mr. Gold.”
His face fell stone cold at the proposition.
“What’ll it be?” Tommy asked with a smug expression, dragging a cigarette across his lips. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.” Abbie spat, straightening his posture to assert dominance.
Tommy’s expression remained unchanged as he twirled the coin between his fingers before tossing it in the air, catching it on top of his hand.
His pale blue eyes glinted as he uncovered the coin, facing tails up. In an effort to contain his amusement his tongue poked the inside of his cheek as his eyes flicked up to Abe.
“A deal is a deal.” Abe coughed, adjusting the collar of his coat, clenching his jaw.
Tommy nodded in acknowledgement as his face cast aglow from the flame of his cigarette. Behind the orange glare you could faintly make out the edge of his lips tugging into a smirk.
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Expensive shoes crunched lightly against the gravel of Thomas Shelby’s driveway as you exited your lift. Your breath hitched in nervousness as the car rolled away behind you, disappearing into the darkness.
With a few hesitant steps you made contact with the door, knocking lightly against the wood. After a few moments a maid named Frances let you in, granting your chilled limbs a satisfying warmth in the lit up foyer.
Her hands fell open out of habit, prepared for your coat. The fabric fell off your shoulders with the shrug of your arms, exposing your skin.
She smiled warmly as she received it, turning from you to place it on a rack. With her back to you, you were granted the privacy to unhide your expression. The heaviness of shame dragged the corners of your mouth into a frown.
She turned to you, attentive with her posture and eyes. “Are you here to see Charlie? A sitter perhaps?” Her brows raised in a sort of put on friendliness.
You blinked, thumbing the beads hanging off your dress. “N-no,” you replied shyly, lifting your eyes to meet hers. “I’m here to see Thomas Shelby.”
Her warm expression melted at the realization, the falling of her lips communicated an unspoken sympathy.
You took in a breath, shaky with anticipation. “Might you direct me to his room?”
“Right, of course.” She shook her head in embarrassment, forcing a smile and guiding you with an extended arm.
As you followed behind her and up the stairs, your eyes flicked over the many paintings on the walls. A blonde woman caught your eye. She was beautiful; framed in a circle of moonlight pouring through a nearby window. Your neck craned, following her eyes, as they did you grew nauseous.
“It’s just down the hall there dear,” The maid directed with a pointed finger, dissolving your trance.
Your eyes scanned over the many doors, stopping at one furthest down the hall. An orange glow spread from under the door, illuminating a path on the embroidered carpet.
“Thank you.” You murmured, keeping your eyes down, and starting down the vacant hall.
She hummed as she departed, disappearing carefully down the stairs.
Hesitant steps carried you down the dark corridor. The shaking of your breath broke the stillness of the air as you grew closer to your fate. A throbbing commenced in your head as you stopped, hovering inches from the door.
Black shadows moved at your feet, indicating activity on the other side. Swallowing thickly, you raised your fist to hover against the wood. With a heavy breath you knocked lightly, 2 times. A stirring of bed sheets came through the door, making you freeze.
“Come in.” a masculine voice called out, increasing your heart rate.
With his instruction, you turned the knob, twisting it’s cool handle and pushing it open with a creak. Candlelight lit up his figure as you entered the room.
Your chest rose as your eyes flicked over his shirtless form, sprawled under white bed sheets with a drink in his outstretched arm. He was otherworldly. His taut chest was covered in ripples of muscle, decorated with a tattoo. His firm forearms twitched slightly as he thumbed the glass in his hand. Your posture stiffened as you closed the door behind you, not removing your eyes from him.
“So you’re Gold’s daughter eh?” He asked, although already knowing the answer. His eyes hungrily scanned your body as he awaited a response.
“Y-yes.” You subconsciously played with the hem of your dress as his piercing blue eyes drank you in.
“What’s your name?” The bed springs squeaked as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, reaching to sit his drink on the nightstand.
Your breath hitched at the quiet thud against the wood. “Y/n, sir.”
He was quiet for a moment, suppressing a groan at your pet name. “That’s a lovely name.”
Your eyes wandered to his shifting hips as he neared you, growing taller with every step. The thin white fabric of his boxers scarcely hid the print of his length.
“Y/n.” He repeated to himself, admiring you with parted lips. Your attention moved to him as your name dripped off his tongue. In closeness you could smell his cologne, almost taste it.
I’m curiosity he extended a finger out to brush your cheek, tracing your soft, youthful skin.
The contact made your face burn, unfamiliar with the feeling of a man’s touch.
He pulled away in surprise, studying you with furrowed brows.
His gaze was dominant, powerful, making you feel small and submissive in his presence. His proximity was arousing, close enough to feel his body heat warming yours.
“Are you a virgin?” His voice was low and gravely, making your stomach sink.
You couldn’t help your eyes from watering, both in embarrassment and fear. “Y-yes sir.”
“Fuck.” He groaned, clenching his jaw.
You shifted your weight on each foot, unsure if he was aroused or regretful.
“I’ve never taken a man Mr. Shelby.” With wide, innocent eyes you studied his face. His captivating crystal eyes, his prominent cheek bones, then down to his pink, plump lips, glistening with saliva as he pulled his bottom lip into his teeth.
You mimicked him subconsciously, growing in desire as you studied his masculine features.
His eyes met yours making you gasp softly.
Without warning he closed the gap between you, capturing your mouth in his.
The impact pushed you back slightly, if not for his hand on your back you would have stumbled over.
His breath fanned your cheek as his lips hungrily caressed yours, sucking at your mouth with his.
Your heart pounded with adrenaline, both in arousal and fear.
Your neck craned as you clumsily kissed him back, steadying yourself with your fingers against his shifting jaw.
He groaned at your touch, pulling away from you with a pop. Your eyes fluttered open at his retreat, finding his lust blown pupils, glistening in the amber light.
His hand slid up your back in eagerness, though not rushed, reaching for the top zipper. The feeling of his hands on your body send chills down your skin.
Your dress loosened as he pulled down, nearly exposing your chest if not for your hand catching the falling fabric.
“Wait..” your voice trembled, blinking in fear. His fingers loosened from the zipper at your protest.
“It’s just,” you breathed in, chewing your lip as to not grow upset, “I’m afraid.”
In amusement his mouth curled into a half smile, exposing his teeth, intrigued by your innocence.
Don’t worry love,” he leaned into your ear, muttering lowly with a gravely tone, “I’ve got the best cock in England.”
There wasn’t sarcastic tone in his voice, rather a seriousness, a confidence that rolled off his tongue. The thought made your stomach twist.
“Let me see you.”
You obliged, knowing it was a command and not a suggestion. Slowly, your hand lifted from your chest, allowing the gown the fall down your body.
It hit the floor with a soft thud, exposing your youthful figure. A chill raised on your skin at your bareness, causing you to shiver slightly.
He pulled back from your ear, taking time to admire you. His mouth fell agape as he took you in. Your slender shoulders, narrow hips, and pink nipples, erect in the cool air.
“Christ.”
Instinctually you covered yourself, hiding your breasts and core with trembling hands.
Your couldn’t face him, instead finding your gaze on the floor, watching your feet shift against the velvety carpet.
He shook his head, stepping towards you, bumping into your arms with his abdomen.
Your head tilted at the new angle, finding him looking down at you past his nose. “Don’t hide from me love.”
Your skin warmed as his large hands grasped your wrists, making your heart pound as he easily pulled them from your body.
“I need to fuck that little cunt.” He breathed to himself, exploring his hands up your skin, leaving goosebumps in their place.
Anticipating his cock inside of you made your stomach twist in knots.
His hands stopped at your shoulders, making you stumble backwards as he maneuvered you to the bed. The wood frame met your heels as you met the edge.
“Lay back love,” the force of his hands gently pushed you backwards, lowering you onto the mattress.
You sucked in a breath as the soft comforter swallowed your small frame, leaving you sprawled open. His eyes flicked over you with a predatory gaze, clenching his jaw in arousal as he scanned your body, ready to receive him. Your hair spread underneath you, rippling in soft waves across his sheets.
He worked his boxers down with his thumb, causing your chest to rise as he shuffled the fabric down his thighs.
A patch of dark hair exposed itself at the movement, before finally revealing his half hard cock, bobbing towards his toned abdomen.
Your lips parted in intrigue as he fisted himself a few times, growing hard as his thick fingers stimulated his reddened head.
He let out a withheld breath, dipping the mattress with his weight as he crawled on top of you, trapping you in with his outstretched arms.
Your heart was pounding at a dizzying pace as he closed the space between you. His body heat evaporated his scent, cool with lingering cigarette smoke and whiskey. You breathed him in, foreign to the musk of a man.
“I’ll take good care of you love,” he reassured, pulling your attention to him with a hand in your hair. “don’t worry..” he spoke against your lips, pulling you in for a long kiss.
Your eyes fell closed at the contact. His breath fanned your cheek as he tasted you, groaning lowly as he worked his soft lips against yours.
Imagining his skill made your thighs clench, knowing the amount of women he has been with.
Your squirming under him caught his attention, causing him to break the kiss, hovering inches from your face.
“Are you ready?” He asked, scanning over your face with an eagerness in his turquoise blue eyes.
“I have to be.” You mumbled in an uncertain tone, chewing the inside of your cheek.
He let out a heavy breath as he diverted his eyes from you, reaching for his length. You watched him attentively as he grasped himself, lining up with your open legs.
His other hand pinned down your thighs, making you stuck in a breath as he spread your soft flesh with his firm fingers.
With knit brows he pushed himself into your entrance, making you both gasp.
You fisted the sheets at the unfamiliar pressure, growing in intensity.
“Fuck…” He groaned as he worked into you, stretching out your tight walls with his thick cock.
You whimpered in pain as he buried himself inside of you, not stopping until his thighs touched yours.
He pulled out slightly, making your breath hitch as your insides burned.
The sheets wrestled as he changed positions, resting on his elbows to close the gap between you. His length bumped further into you, making you clench around him.
“Mr. Shelby.. I- I can’t..” you whimpered, writhing under him, looking to ease the feeling of fullness.
“Shh..” he soothed, hovering against your ear “It’ll feel good love, I promise.” His lips met your cheek softly, making you let out a breath.
With a concentration in his brow he pulled out slowly, making you gasp, empty and clenching around nothing.
His thick traps impeded your view, only giving you access to his shifting jaw and taut chest pressing into yours.
He plunged into you again with the bucking of hips, quicker this time, forcing himself inside of you.
You squeaked at the movement, feeling a pressure in your walls as he claimed you.
He began a steady rhythm, chasing pleasure with shaky breaths as he rocked in and out of you at a quick pace.
Your eyes squint shut as he stimulated you, sheathing you with his cock. The hair of his thighs tickled yours as he pounded in and out of you, rocking the bed.
He groaned lowly as you squeezed him, and began to pick up his intensity, harshly colliding with your body.
“Oh fuck..” he groaned with knit brows, fucking you hard. “Good girl, squeeze me like that.”
His praise withdrew a whimper from your throat, encouraging you to slide your hands over his back. Your fingers explored the muscles of his shoulders, shifting with his movements.
The continuous intrusion of his length nudged a spot inside of you, making your toes curl.
“Mr. Shelby..” you whined, holding onto his shifting shoulders for leverage. His body was warm and tough with muscle.
Your sounds encouraged him, and he rutted into you harder, repeatedly hitting that spot inside of you, sending bursts of pleasure down your legs.
Your nails dug into his flesh subconsciously, kneading his skin damp with sweat. He groaned, aroused by the pain of your nails in his flesh.
His breathing labored as he fucked you, fanning your face as his forehead fell against yours. You were spilling in arousal, squelching with his every movement.
Rapid breaths escaped your parted lips. Chasing the feeling, you arched your back, bumping into his chest. His sweat covered skin rubbed against yours as he fucked you.
“Are you close?”
Numb with pleasure your head nodded, unable to form words.
“Good girl..” he praised breathlessly, “good girl..” He rocked into you forcefully, moving your body back and forth on the mattress.
“I’m gonna-“ you paused, stunned by a wave of pleasure from his calculated thrusts, “Mr. Shelby..” your whimpered, helpless as your muscles tensed underneath him.
“Come for me sweetheart,” he panted, burying his head in your neck, “come for me.” His deep gravely voice pulled you over the edge.
“Oh fuck!” You yelped, convulsing as waves of pleasure wrecked through your body.
Your eyes squeezed shut in euphoria, mouthing incoherent words as he fucked you through your high, murmuring against your skin.
He moaned deeply as your spasming walls squeezed his length, making his pace waver for a moment.
“Fuck..” you moaned, wrestling the sheets with your squirming.
He didn’t stop, relentlessly fucking your overstimulated entrance with his thick length.
“Mr. Shelby.. it’s too much..” your nails dug into his back in pain.
“I’m almost there love,” he panted, red in the face as he neared his high.
His length continued to pry into you, deeper and harder as his desperation grew.
You squirmed instinctively, pulling yourself away from his cock.
He intercepted your resistance with a firm hand sliding up your throat. His grasp caught the breath in your lungs, making your eyes water.
“Fuck.. stay put love..” he groaned lowly, nudging his nose against your neck as he rutted in and out of you.
Your eyelids drooped at the pressure, lazily following the shifting muscles in his back.
“Ahhh..” he groaned deeply, flexing his core against yours. “Oh fuck…”
He came undone at last, emptying himself into you with a loud groan. “Christ..” he cursed with an open mouth, bucking his hips against yours as his warm seed filled you up.
His grasp tightened slightly as he tensed, unleashing a tear down your cheek and onto his hand.
His pace slowed to shallow rocking, as he came down from his high. Once satisfied, he pulled out with a slick wet noise, making your thighs shake.
His hand released from your throat as he caught his breath, lifting his head from yours to hover above you. His forehand fell against yours in exhaustion, leaving a bead of sweat on your face.
Without saying a word he leaned in, kissing your damp skin, removing the wetness with his lips.
You clenched your jaw, trying best to keep your emotions as bay as you turned your head from him, softly sniffling.
He pulled away from you, rolling to his back with a satisfied sigh as he reached for a cigarette on the nightstand.
While he was occupied you sat up slightly, pulling the covers over your exposed limbs.
As you did so your eyes caught a glimpse of red on the sheets. They wandered to your open thighs, widening at the sight of smeared blood.
You held a hand to you face, blinking in shock and turning to Tommy, “There’s blood!”
Your hand on his forearm turned his attention to you. “It’s okay love,” he took a drag of his cigarette, inhaling a fair amount of smoke, “It’s normal.” His free hand reached for yours, smoothing over your knuckles with his thumb as he let out a puff of smoke through pursed lips.
His touch unleashed a flood of tears from your eyes, which you quickly covered with your hand as they trickled down your face.
You sucked in short breaths, crying against your hand as your body shook.
“Eh, what’s the matter?” He asked softly, reaching for you.
You shook your head, refusing to speak the truth, instead letting it out in the form of tears, forming dark circles on his sheets.
“Talk to me love,” His voice held a tone of sincerity as he kept his eyes to your frame. “Please.”
You took in a shaky breath, swiping your face before letting down your hand. “I’m just a body to you.”
Your gaze was emotionless, frozen on the yellow wallpaper in front of you, dancing over each flower design.
With enough courage you turned your head to face him, pulling your watery eyes to his. “I don’t want to just be a body Thomas.”
The sound of his name on your lips made him freeze. It was vulnerable. Desperate. His cold expression fell, replacing with one of sympathy and warmth in the flicking of his eyes.
“You’re not.” He shook his head, putting his cigarette down and smoothing his other hand over your arm. You leaned into his touch, sucking in a shaky breath through your mouth and rolling onto his chest.
“You’re not just a body to me love.” He spoke against your hair, smoothing over your back with firm strokes.
You nestled against his chest, focusing on the sounds of his shallow breathing against your ear, slowing your tears.
“I’ll make you more than that.”
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awritesthings1 · 3 months
Text
All The Things We Don't Say
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Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Female Reader
Summary: An anthology of your life with Tommy, from friends to strangers to lovers, and all the little moments in between.
Warnings: 18+, implied DV, substance abuse, childhood trauma, ptsd, overprotective tommy, swearing, brief smut, longfic oneshot, feminist themes (motherhood & being a wife in the 1920s).
ao3 link
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Smash!
“Pick it up!”
Your daddy was a drunk. You remembered the fact since you could walk. He stayed home while the working men left for the factories, then disappeared in the late hours of the morning until his eventual return when the slam of the front door woke the household up. Mother used to hold you at night as she curled up in your bed. She was sick a lot. Always sniffing into the back of your neck when you were asleep. Sometimes the sleeve of your nightgown would get soaked while she muffled her hiccups.
She looked sad, too. In the morning, she kept the curtains drawn and stayed away from the outside world. She told you it was to keep nosey Mrs. Gretel away from her family affairs. But Mrs. Gretel had left Birmingham two months prior.
By seven years old, you were the 'man' of the house. You had gone to sleep one night, and when you awoke, your mother had vaporized into the air like a rabbit in a hat.
“She left because of you,” your father slurred at you.
You hated him.
She left behind her long-sleeve dresses, scarves, and wicker hats that covered nearly every inch of her skin. They were far too big for you then, but when your father came home at the end of the week with a stack of cash, you ran to your mother’s closet, which had remained untouched until then, to find only cobwebs. Gone. Every single one of her dresses. You looked out at the moon in those early hours of the morning and swore to it that when you were bigger, you would get him back so much worse.
And so you were left to clean up his smashed glass bottles and scrub the alcohol out of the gritty carpet. Your little hands struggled to pluck the glass from the floorboards. In a year’s time, they were covered in little scars.
On your tenth birthday, you decided you were grown enough to take matters into your own hands. When he was passed out on the floor from whatever he managed to fill his pipe with, you grabbed the small bottles he hid under a loose floorboard and poured them into the gutter at the back of your house.
You turned to run back to the door when the contents of the bottle were empty, but a ball almost tripped you over. You gripped your tattered skirt before you could lose your footing and snapped your head around with a fierce pout.
“That’s my ball,” pointed a young Thomas Shelby.
You put your small hands on your smaller hips. “You kicked it my way on purpose!”
You weren’t entirely sure, but you suspected it.
“Maybe I thought you were pretty,” he grinned.
You noticed his two front teeth were missing.
“Ewwww! I would never go out with you!” You squawked.
At ten years old, you knew better than that.
Seemingly unaffected by your distaste, he continued. “Do you live there?” He nodded to the house whose roof was falling apart.
“What’s it to you?” You frowned stubbornly, not wanting to admit that, yes, that was your house.
“The curtains are always drawn,” he answered, walking over to pick up his ball from your feet. He was the same height as you were at the time. “My brother Arthur said it’s haunted. He saw a ghost in the window once. He said it was a woman and that she starved to death.”
Your nose scrunched up. "Well, he’s a phony!”
You ran inside said house and slammed the door shut.
He kissed you down by the docks that winter. It was your first kiss, and a clumsy one at that, so you didn’t remember much of it.
By thirteen, you had given in and sold the rest of your mother’s belongings to support yourself. You hated yourself for it, and that nagging voice inside your head told you that you were no better than your father. Oh, and your father? Your father lost vision in his left eye from a bar fight. Too bad it wasn’t both.
Sometime later, a boy two years older than you saw your wandering hand in someone’s bag at the fair and threatened to teach you some manners ‘the hard way’. You bit anxiously on your nails and pleaded with him because he was bigger than most boys his age, when Tommy’s brother Arthur (who you’d seen hanging around the Garrison) came passing by and threatened to ‘toss him about’. The other boy, not all believing in Arthur’s temper, rushed forward, and the two ended up rolling in the dirt, but by then you were gone with a stolen pocket watch in your fist. Nearly two legs and an arm deep in poverty, some quick cash, or a hero complex? You’d take the penny.
At fourteen, a lady knocked on your door. It was a lady of the night who had come to inform your father that he had fathered a son with her. You were glad it was a boy. A girl wouldn’t have stood a chance in the slums of Birmingham. Life was hard, but Birmingham was harder. Your father had refused to listen to the young woman and shooed her off. You never saw her teary-eyed face again.
At fifteen, your father attempted to wash his hands of you by marrying you off to the highest bidder. There was no real auction, but just about anyone who suggested a handsome sum of money did the trick.
“His name is William,” you exhaled, kicking your legs over the edge of the dock.
Tommy laughed. “You won’t marry him.”
“What choice do I have, Tom?”
Your finances were getting tight, and the gloomy pressure to take up working at night like many young ladies was beginning to loom closer and closer. You hated being a woman. Boys would never have to worry about selling themselves to survive.
“I’ll put a gypsy curse on him,” he decided, squinting his eyes from the bright reflection dancing across the water.
You hit his shoulder.
“No, you won't, because then you’ll be cursing me.”
The severity of your situation began to dawn on Tommy. No amount of pestering Polly for change to spare would relieve you of your burden any longer.
“That’s it, then?” He gulped, shifting his glassy eyes to the harbor.
You sighed and followed his gaze.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad. I’ll never have to see dad again, and William promised to take care of me.”
Tommy scoffed.
You frowned at him. “What?”
He shook his head.
“What! Tom—”
“Don’t marry him.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, here we go, why?”
“You know why.”
You were engaged to William on the eve of your seventeenth birthday. He was a very proper man and never dared to go any further than hooking an arm around yours on formal occasions. You were never attracted to his thin mustache nor the thick lenses he wore. In fact, he was incredibly awkward at social occasions, always checking his pocket watch and avoiding eye contact with whichever circle he stood in.
Tommy began to fade out of your life around that time. Margaret—a lady who had taken you on to help with the sewing of her family’s tailoring business—told you that Tommy was spotted arm in arm with another girl that week. You expected to feel jealous, but you felt nothing. You knew love would never be your right. Love was for the more fortunate.
You spent that year learning how to be a wife. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too different from what you did as a child—cooking and cleaning up like you did when your father came home, that is. It was comforting to have a routine in place. It meant finality—no one walking in and out of your life as they pleased, and certainly no more growling stomachs. Perhaps being a wife was a skill your mother never learned. You were grateful for William’s mother, who seemed to be more than enthusiastic to show you the reigns.
After a year-long engagement, you caught your fiancé, William, locked in a compromising position with another man.
“Oh,” was all you got out before leaving his house.
You lacked the special ingredient that marriages needed: love.
You sat down at the fountain across the street. William and his lover’s silhouette were visible behind the blinds he had drawn on the second floor, which peered over the sidewalk. You watched their shadows fluster their feathers around the room like headless geese, and for a moment your head surfaced above water and laughter frothed out between your sealed lips. Perhaps Birmingham made you a little mad.
You didn’t go through with the marriage. You suspected William was relieved.
That week, your father left. You never knew whether he left on his own accord or just never made it home one night. Either way, you never really cared to find out.
With nothing left to lose, you knocked on the Shelby family’s door at Watery Lane. Finn appeared around the other side of the door a moment later.
“Is Tommy home?”
Finn nodded, spinning on his heel to alert his brother. When Tommy did appear, his shoulders were tensed. Disheveled hair never looked so stylish on him. When you saw his suspenders (which were hastily thrown on), you wanted to ask who he expected to be at the door that he planned to answer dressed in such fashion but then thought better of it. He peered down at you, then checked over his shoulder before ushering you inside and up to his bedroom.
“It’s… smaller than I thought,” you landed on, taking in his room.
After all these years, you had never stepped foot into the Shelby home. You weren’t the type of person to come door-knocking.
You turned around to face Tommy after hearing him click the lock on his door.
“Are you hurt?" were the first words he had spoken to you in a year.
“No.” You pressed your lips together, eyeing everything from the bed to the view out the window.
Silence followed closely after.
“Then why are you here?” Tommy sighed.
Your vision began to blur then. “I don’t know,” you said honestly, trying to stop your bottom lip from trembling.
Desperately, you pushed your hair back and straightened up, attempting to hold yourself together. You must have looked like a puppet being held together by a string, given how poor you looked.
Tommy’s boots pad across the wooden floor. “You love me?”
Did that word truly exist? How could you answer if you never knew what it meant to love?
You don’t meet his eyes. He licked his lips, pushing your head up to meet his with his thumb. His eyebrows rose expectantly.
“I don’t know what to do, Tom,” you breathed, avoiding his question. “I’m all alone now. No William, no father…”
His lips parted, and you watched with fascination as the cogs turned in his head. “Yes… that is a problem." His breath fanned over your face.
You gagged, a reaction you yourself had not expected, before rushing to his door, only to remember that, yes, he had locked it, before turning to the nearest silver bucket in the corner to empty your guts.
The first thing you heard when you caught your breath was, “are you pregnant?”
No, but when you stand so close to me and I can smell the cigarettes you smoke and your freshly washed skin, I can imagine a future where we are married, and I see your face growing more disappointed as we age together because you married a woman who never knew how to be a mother to your children nor a wife who knew to tend to you with affection by your bedside when you’re ill.
“No,” you choked, spitting out the vile taste in your mouth. “We never did anything.”
You wanted him to know that. You wanted him to think that you never let William touch you because you never loved him, not because William wasn’t interested in girls.
A moment later, Tommy sat beside you on the floor and quietly combed your hair away from your wobbling lips.
“So, if you’re not pregnant and you don’t love me, why are you here?”
You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. How were you supposed to answer that? After letting your guts loose in his room, you thought he would surely have booted you out the door.
A knock came on the door: “Tommy?”
“A minute, Finn!” Tommy growled at the door, refusing to back away from your trembling frame.
You were so hungry. Margaret had to cut back your hours ever since her husband fell ill. She spent more time by his bedside than keeping the store open, which meant you were making less than usual. The imminent closing of the store hung over your head like a taunting crow, gouging your insides like you were Prometheus. Birmingham your chains, a woman your fate, and the bird your punishment for thinking you deserved more.
“I should go.” You shivered at the draft inching towards your skin from the open window.
Tommy’s intense gaze stuttered, falling to your lap, where you picked at the dead skin around your nails. He cleared his throat, fishing out the key from his pocket. Although it was dull and muted from the years, it gleaned brightly in your eyes as if it were the reward you came for. Flushed, you grabbed it out of his hands without sparing a glance. Electricity sparked in those precious seconds, igniting a deadly fire in your belly.
“You’re cold." Tommy flinched at your touch.
You retreated as soon as the key slid into the hole and unlocked with a click. In your haste, you left the most valuable thing you owned there in his room.
Your heart.
The months went by, and summer arrived. The stories your mother told you left you expecting a bright gleam of air that would wash over the streets and paint each tree and every patch of grass a frighteningly bright green that would even encourage grumpy Mrs. Gretel to come out to preen her stubborn roses that would just not grow. Birmingham left less to be desired. The summer days never came, and that persisting bitter bog thickened, albeit with slightly less rain. There were gray clouds, smoke from the factories, and a shivering north westerly, which pushed said clouds at breakneck speed as if they had somewhere to be. You looked to the sky one day and said a prayer for blue breezes and sweltering sun, but the sky was empty.
Sometime later, men marched the streets armed with guns in their ‘dashing’ uniforms. A war, they said, a great one. Queues lined the street for the post offices and grocers. Rain rivaled the bustle of the city. What did it feel like to love someone so much as to stand in the pouring rain next to the gutter? You wanted that kind of love. Not the love you could only give yourself because even you didn’t want your own love.
One of the soldiers decorated in medals stood on a crate at the port, yelling something supposedly inspiring that captured the attention of many young men. The words honorable and patriotic were tossed in there like a delectable salad, enticing them in the way farmers held a carrot to a pig’s snout.
You pitied their mothers. Their daughters were married off, and then their sons were swooning over the idea of dying. Birmingham was filthy, rotting, and disgusting. You needed to leave.
You kissed Margaret goodbye on the cheek one Tuesday morning. Ever since your pockets turned out empty, you had been working as a bedside nurse for her ill-stricken husband. They were good to you, and they were probably the only people you could consider family.
She patted your cheek and said, "you're doing good to serve this country.”
You hadn’t had the heart to tell her you were leaving because the city was marring your flesh, so you slipped her the sugarcoated lie of wanting to join the war effort so that you might help others who were bedridden, just like her husband.
At the train station, you stood with your suitcases held tightly in both arms. You had to set one down to hold onto your hat as a train full of men waving their caps out the window pulled into the station. Some children weaved between the crowd, wagging a newspaper above their heads, hoping to make a quick penny. To your side, women wept for their brothers, husbands, and lovers.
“Who are you wishing off?” asked an elderly woman who was clutching her cane.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m boarding the next train.”
She laughed, and you wondered how old your mother would be now. Would she have grown wrinkles and settled into a deeper laugh like this woman?
“My dear, you have a bright imagination if you think they will let a woman on any of these trains.”
A sudden anger filled your blood. “Why not?”
“These men are heading straight for London, where they will be shipped away to France to fight,” the woman explained as if it were any other day.
“I’ll catch the next train then.”
She shook her head, and her frail hand curled tighter around her cane. “They’ve stopped the trains so they can transport soldiers to London.”
You frowned. “Then how will I leave Birmingham?”
You’ll never forget her dismissive laughter.
“My dear, you won’t.”
Men boarded the train, clapping each other on the back with a wink and a laugh. When a line of men on the platform thinned, the train whistled, and you looked over just in time to see Polly, Ada, and little Finn standing with their hands crossed over their hearts as they waved to the train.
No. It wasn’t possible.
But it was because you caught the gleam of the razors sewn into their peaky caps. Tommy, Arthur, and John all stood aboard the train, sticking their heads out and waving to Polly and Ada with a grin that wrung your stomach like a wet cloth.
Those countless daydreams you spun, the intricate webs you wove, began breaking down to thin fibers. In one pathway, you stayed there in his room and told him the truth you always denied yourself. You loved him. In another, you stood next to Polly, close to tears, as you begged him to come home safely. There was a resounding click in that moment as your breath stuttered. You had been the person who wiped away those futures, thinking it was nothing but an annoying spiderweb. Oh, how wrong you were!
“Tommy!” You left your suitcases behind and stepped around the old woman as you ducked under hugs and tearful goodbyes.
“Tommy!” You cried again with the gusto of someone who certainly shouldn’t be as concerned as they were considering you left him in his room that day.
Thankfully, his eyes eventually found yours as you pushed through the last line of people. You stood there and stomached all your regrets head-on. It was funny how, up until that moment, you managed to squash every seed of doubt. Why was it that you only realized what you had when it was slipping out of reach?
He never called your name back. He just stared at you blankly as the train pulled away, unlike you, who clung to the image of his frame even as the train disappeared from sight and the crowd began to disperse. You stood there unblinking, hoping to soak up the last of him before you forgot the intensity of his eyes or the humming rumble of his voice. Because the idea of something you held dearly becoming a memory meant that it could as easily be forgotten, and that terrified you. Your eyes were watering now, against your best wishes.
You overheard Polly ushering Finn and Ada off. Finn rushed home without protest, but Ada stopped in her tracks when she saw you hunched over your knees in tears. She smiled weakly before chasing Finn home. It was then that Polly’s shadow approached your huddled frame. She didn’t say anything, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if she expected you to stand and apologize for being such a mess. That’s when a penny clattered to the ground beside you. She squeezed your shoulder once before disappearing.
You kissed that penny as if Tommy would feel the power of it across the country, then ran back to Margaret’s, having forgotten your suitcases.
“Oh…” She exclaimed, slapping her tea towel on the counter when you walked into the kitchen. “You missed your train?”
Dread made your stomach tender and your breath short.
“I’m enrolling in the Red Cross.”
-
Throughout the war, you thought of Tommy every day until your stomach lurched. Would it have worked if you had stayed? Would you both have grown old together instead of subjecting yourself to the spray of dirt when a bomb went off nearby?
A day ago, your supply rations never came. It wasn’t like hunger was anything new, but when your mind was too focused on surviving the perilous weather, it was hard to save other lives. You made work with what little supplies you had left. The morphine went stint within hours of its arrival, and the cries of pained soldiers filled the medical tent all night. You did what you could, wiped sweat from their foreheads, and wrote letters to their mothers and lovers with what supplies you could scavenge. Some were written on cardboard from shell packaging, others on torn pages from the bibles they kept over their hearts. Pens were useless—the ink ran in the rain—so you scribbled everything down in pencil.
Before you left for France, you were warned of the bullets. No one ever warned you about the shrapnel, nor the bombs or grenades. They shattered soldiers’ bones beyond repair and left bodies unrecognizable. There wasn’t much you could do when most of their flesh was missing.
Keeping faith became an impossible task. Supplies were depleted, and nurses were dejected. Sally, who had been writing home for news of her brother, recently had her letters returned with the black stamp. Death—return to sender. She spent only an hour sitting on a trunk, letting her tears fall, before she got back to work. Grief privileged those with time, something no one could afford in these conditions.
Then it came—the day Arthur Shelby was carried in on a stretcher. You were making your rounds around the beds when a truckload of yelling men pooled through the entrance of the tent.
“Nurse!” They all yelled, some limping, others setting down stretchers of men on the dirt between the filled beds.
You and two other nurses dropped everything and ran over to attend to the wounded. They were all covered head to toe in dirt, groaning and clutching limbs that were twisted the wrong way. One in particular coughed and huffed while he fought against hands, which were fruitlessly pushing him back down on the stretcher.
“Let me go!” He yelled, wrestling against an older nurse.
“It’s alright, Mary. I’ll handle this one,” you patted her shoulder as you swapped places.
You dunked a washcloth into a bucket of water to wipe away the dirt in his eyes. “Calm down; you're safe here,” you said, starting your usual script of reassurances.
When the striking blue eyes squinted up at you, your blood ran cold. You froze before taking his head in both your hands, despite his protests. “Arthur? Arthur, it’s me!”
He loosened his grip on your wrist. “Huh?”
“It’s me! Where’s Tommy and John?”
He spat blood and gritted his teeth. “Fucking hell, where’s the whiskey?”
You laughed despite the smell of blood encompassing the tent. You quickly fetched the alcohol you had been using to clean wounds and pressed it to his lips. You weren’t sure if it was whiskey or not, but you reasoned he was in too much pain to be able to tell. He drank it with a groan of pleasure. You didn’t try to snatch the bottle away as he emptied it down his palette; you just sat and grinned at the way he suckled it like a newborn baby while you cleaned away his cuts.
“I’ve never been happier to see you, Arthur.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, his lips still wrapped around the bottle.
You tried to stay by his side for as long as you could before the second wave of patients came tumbling through the flaps of the tent. One of them lost their grip on the stretcher, and the patient went sliding into the dirt headfirst.
“Fuck!” They all swore, abandoning the stretcher to drag the limp man further into the makeshift hospital.
You rushed to help when a hand gripped the back of your neck. You yelped in pain as your hair got caught in a fingernail when they turned you to face them.
And there he was: Tommy Shelby, covered in a thick layer of dirt, heaving for air.
“Nurse! Nurse!” Voices cried for you, but between the ringing in your ears and the wrath in Tommy’s blue eyes, you were frozen in place.
“The fuck are you doing here, eh?” He yelled over the anguished men.
You suddenly felt stupid standing there in your Red Cross uniform.
“I was looking for you, I—”
His dirty hands cupped your cheeks—something you were painfully aware of from the uncomfortable itch from the mud on your flushed skin—and pulled your forehead to his.
“You think this is some fantasy?” He squinted. “You think there’s any fucking moonlight to kiss under here, eh?” He spat.
His eyes held that haunted look you had seen on many soldiers that passed through the medical tent. Your eyes watered. Perhaps it was from the humidity and dirt being kicked up as nurses and patients scuffled around, not because you could hardly recognize the man in front of you. The blood smeared above his eyebrow worried you, so you reasoned that he was mad because it had been leaking into his eyes. Dutifully, you reached to wipe it with the back of your hand. He grabbed your wrist harshly, bringing it down to your side. He was in shock; you scolded yourself.
“Where’s John and Arthur?” Tommy swallowed, flexing his hands.
You led him to Arthur, who had been left in his corner while the nurses attended to more serious cases. It hurt watching the brothers reunite after their ordeal, so you left them alone no matter how much you feared them being discharged before your return. After all, everything you ever wanted sat in that corner, but it would be selfish to coddle Tommy all to yourself. Still, you couldn’t help sparing a glance when you walked up and down the tent, attending to patients.
Later that night, he came to you under the candlelight of your tent. He cleared his throat upon entry. You were lying face-up on your cot when he cleared his throat and peeled back the entrance to enter. The candlelight painted the mountain peaks of his face in a dull amber and the valleys in a frightening shadow. You sat up, pulling the thick cover over your shift.
Tommy kneeled next to you, resting on the heels of his boots. He licked his chapped lips and itched his nose. “You don’t belong here.”
Your grip on the cover loosened. “Huh?”
Nothing prepared you for when he swung his brooding stare towards you. He exhaled loudly before running a hand over his face.
“You should have stayed in Birmingham.” He said it like a warning.
“And done what?”
Vulnerability never looked good on Tommy. His head hung and his fingers itched at the back of his head—a tick you used to love; now you weren’t so sure. Because your Tommy was never afraid, but this man in front of you was alarmingly tense despite the clear efforts to mask it.
What have they done to you, Tom?
Under the dim light of your tent, you barely recognized him. A stranger’s eyes were blown wide in a frightening state of shock, something most soldiers mirrored. War washed out the sweet blue pair you knew, refitting them for a steely weapon. You hated seeing him like this, so still, so unsteady, cocooned into the corner as if afraid to take up space.
You feared you looked no better. Having worked till the point of exhaustion, you usually found yourself awakening against a wooden crate or trunk to the cries of patients who demanded your attention despite your body not having the strength to stand. Today you had been lucky and found yourself crawling distance to your private tent when your knees started wobbling and your head lulling.
The wooden reinforcing of your private tent fought in vain to shelter your bodies from the elements; it still flapped and whipped about, sometimes rocking your cot. Yet Tommy remained still like those life-size stone statues you’d find outside an important building, brooding at the dirt and locked in an internal battle. You shifted to the edge of your makeshift bed and leaned close enough that you saw how the top buttons of his dirtied uniform were missing and most of his clothes were torn.
His arm, which was breaking out in goosebumps, lay heavily across his knee so that he could rest his forehead there limply. He looked in a bad enough condition that you feared the possibility of him succumbing to the wasteland threatening him outside your tent. You wrapped your arms around the scruff of his hair and pulled his face into your stomach, where he could hide from the terrible world. On instinct, his arms wound around your waist, and you felt his warm exhale against your skin through the thin fabric of your slip.
His tin water bottle clanged against the satchel he wore, which made you wonder if he had any time to rest at all if he still had all his equipment tied to his uniform.
“I didn’t…” His voice was muffled by your slip. He cleared his throat again, shaking his head.
When he dropped the thought, you spoke up. “Have you eaten?”
He slapped your thigh haphazardly. “No, do you have a cigarette?”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead gently pushing him away so you could kneel beneath your bed and fish a cigarette from your satchel. You pinched one from its tin case, then thought better of it and tossed it on Tommy’s lap. Gratefully, he collected one from the case and lit it with a nearby candle. You watched his chest rise and fall as he took an especially deep drag. His eyes shut as the nicotine rushed to his head.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he muttered under his breath.
“How are you here, Tommy? One of the night nurses should’ve been on watch.”
“Oh,” smoke puffed out of his mouth, and he raised his eyebrows, “there is.”
“Then how—”
“I had to see you.”
The butterflies in your stomach dove. The blue in his eyes appeared translucent as they hazed over like a ghost. His shoulders were slumped dejectedly, and he had a hand pushing through his greasy, unwashed hair to relieve his neck from the weight of his thoughts.
He pointed to you then, with the cigarette nursed between his fingers. “I need to know why you changed your mind.”
“About what, Thomas?”
His voice slurred and slipped into a deeper register from the lack of sleep. "Why you came back. Why you came to France.” Tommy shook his head lazily. “You expect me to believe you had a sudden change of heart? What? You a patriot now?” An amused exhale curled out while he took another drag. “Well I don’t believe it.”
You began shivering despite the way your body flushed.
“How’s Arthur?” You tried to avert the conversation.
“Bloody drunk off his ass.”
“And you?”
Tommy held your stare and swallowed dryly. “Trying.”
“You can go join him if you wish.”
He looked at the entrance of your tent as if he were weighing his options, then shook his head and took another drag before clearing his throat. “It’s different now.”
Naïvely, you sank to the ground beside him and rested a hand on his shoulder. “It doesn’t have to be.”
He sighed.
“I wish that were true.”
-
The next time you saw Tommy, you were working a shift at the hospital. After the war, you received a medal for your efforts, which easily got you a job in Birmingham. You pleaded with them to send you to any other hospital—London, Manchester, Liverpool—you didn’t care. Anywhere but Birmingham.
“You should be honored to work for me!” Exclaimed the head nurse at Birmingham Hospital, who didn’t seem too pleased with your distaste for the city.
You thought the job would be the final nail in the coffin, but you surprisingly got along well with the head nurse once you had put your animosity aside. So much so, she offered to lease you a room upstairs from hers.
Then came that dreaded night where you were finishing the filing of some documents when a patient was being rushed in. Your ears perked up, and you looked through the blinds of the office to see a man being rushed by. Something small and round had fallen off the stretcher while the nurses paid no attention, pushing him around the corner and down towards the operating theater. Curious, you exited the office.
And there on the ground was one of those peaky caps Tommy and his brothers used to wear. You knew this because you picked it up and nearly cut yourself on the blade that was sewn into the seam. You spent the next hour gnawing on your nails. Your imagination sparked ideas about the beaten man who was lying in an operating room two doors down in surgery. Was it Tommy? Arthur? John? The shadows under your eyes darkened at the thought. No, it was probably some other Peaky Blinder. The Shelby brothers were too careful. Still, you knocked over your coffee in a mad dash to the bathroom, where you heaved up your dinner.
You volunteered to stay until the morning, but the head nurse on duty for the night refused and sent you home. You didn’t sleep at all that night.
The next morning, you arrived early and made a beeline for the emergency ward. You grabbed the admission form and scanned the patient list. There were only two emergency patients who were listed under the final hour of your shift, a woman and a man, which made it easier to narrow it down to the man who was admitted at quarter to midnight in ward four, room seven.
When you peaked through the crack in the door, you knew you had been worried for a reason. Tommy lay under the covers, battered and bruised, with a swollen eye and a nasty scar where he had reportedly received surgery for trauma to the head.
You slipped inside quietly and closed the door. Tommy’s eyes were closed, and his mouth hung open, stealing miniscule amounts of air into his lungs. He looked as good as a ghost.
“Tommy…” You clutched his peaky cap (which you meant to return) between your fingers.
He didn’t move an inch, so you set the cap down by his bedside table, carefully watching the rise and fall of his chest.
What have they done to you, Tom?
On the second week, he woke up while you were cleaning the windowsill. He coughed, and you whipped around in shock.
“Nurse?” He asked hoarsely, blinking away the blinding light.
You rushed to his side, tears bursting like the fountain you passed on your way to work.
“Don’t move,” you urged when he tried to sit up.
“I have to get to London,” he slurred, only half awake.
You weren’t upset that he didn’t recognize you. You weren’t upset that he didn’t recognize you.
“Tommy… it’s me.”
He shrugged your hand off his shoulder with a hiss. “Fucking hell.”
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
“Please don’t move; I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” You couldn’t hide the way your voice broke.
He looked up at you, then, through bloodshot blue eyes. You wished you knew what was going through his head. Happy or sad?
“Am I dead?”
“No,” you smiled weakly as a tear fell.
“Can I have a smoke then?”
-
“I don’t know how to love, Tommy!”
“Yeah? Yeah? That’s bullshit! Why do you keep coming back then?” He pinched your chin, glaring furiously into your eyes. “Eh?”
He stood so close that he blocked the light from the chandelier, which mournfully hung from the ceiling. You shivered in his shadow.
“I shouldn’t have come tonight.”
“But you did!” He accused, pointing in your face.
“It was a mista—”
“You fucking did!”
“Tommy!”
“I’ve had it! If you want to leave, then fucking leave; otherwise, don’t stand there all righteous waving empty threats over my head because I know you won’t leave.” He shook his head with a wild look in his eye. “No… You won’t leave. You won’t leave because you love me. You keep coming back,” he pointed matter-of-factly.
Tommy’s eyebrows danced between being terribly furrowed and alarmingly raised during his passionate monologue. It was rare for him to emit so much emotion these days. The war changed men, and Tommy was no exception. A chilling stillness framed his presence, which even you weren’t excused from. No more laughter, no more dreams of working with horses, because he was above all that now, wasn’t he? It was ambition that ground his teeth together and hollowed his eyes. Still, you couldn’t forget that the anger came from vulnerability, because it took a lot for someone to get under Thomas Shelby’s skin.
You moved to grab your purse, to make good on his word, but he halted your movement by grabbing your shoulders, roughly at first, before loosening his grip. You softened at his frantic demeanor. He was scared—oh,  so afraid of you walking out that door again. But how could you ever explain it to him? You were never born for love. You would never know how to love him properly the way wives were supposed to because what you felt for Tommy was sickeningly deep. So much so that the mere impression of him sealed off your ribcage and ruined any chance of your heart beating for any other soul, so much so that you carried the weight of him in your bones because you could never shake him off.
When you looked back at life, all you saw was the absence of love. You used to imagine yourself growing up and falling in love with a handsome stranger, then getting married in a proper white dress to go live in your proper house. But when you looked in the mirror, you saw a ghost. The pathway of your life was laid out before your eyes once, and what you saw didn’t match the reflection. The man you were supposed to marry couldn’t even look at you, even if you cleaned and cleaned and cleaned until your fingerprints turned white and pasty.
Because what it all came down to was simple. You never got to become the person you envisioned. Instead, you were cursed to live as a blank slate and be consistently reminded of what you were supposed to be and of who you were: no one.
Tommy exhaled in a quick huff, pressing his forehead to yours so that he saw you clearer, without all the tension and bullshit in the way.
“Here it comes, Tommy.” You took a shaky breath. “I love you, but I could never be the perfect wife to you, and I would be a terrible mother.”
There, in all its ugly colors and shades, you hung yourself with the truth.
He shook his head as if he too couldn’t believe your words.
“Fuck’s sake! Forget about all that." His eyes watered out of frustration, but he was still puffing in anger. “I need you. You. Not some whore.”
You bit your lip to muffle the god-forsaken cry ready to erupt from the volcanoes you suddenly found roaring in your stomach. An earthquake overtook your hands the more you fought the inevitable eruption. You grabbed both his hands to stop yours from shaking.
“I have to be cursed; there’s no other way!”
“No!”
“My life slips through my fingers like grains of sand—”
“You’re not cursed!”
“And I can’t stop it, Tommy!”
“You’re not fucking cursed, and I’ll tell you why." Tommy cut you off. He leaned in, licking his lips, which had turned dry from all the shouting, and squeezed your hands. “Because my ancestors charmed dogs with their magic, they didn’t scare little girls with curses,” he paused. “But you… You waved a hand over my head, and now I’m no better than a dog.”
He closed the space between you, pressing his forehead against yours, and stroked both your cheeks, wiping at your tears. You held him there in a meek attempt at reciprocation.
You wished the world were ending so then you could grab Tommy’s hand and say, ‘I’m ready, Tom. The world is ending, so let’s kiss and love each other under the flames without any fear because the world is ending.’
But you were never good at expressing yourself with words, so you sealed it with a kiss, hoping he could taste the unspoken words on your lips the same way you tasted the tears. He responded in earnest, gripping you roughly by the scruff of your neck to seal the promise laden between your lips; no more running.
-
It was just your luck that you would bump into your ex-fiancé, William, while visiting a bar in London with Ada. You were buzzing from the warmth of three sweet liquors and whatever else Ada insisted you try, and everything was starting to seem a little funny by the time he approached you.
He engaged in pleasantries, swishing his wine around the glass and sniffing it occasionally, like many pompous older men tended to do. There was only so much smiling you could afford before you caught your reflection in the freshly wiped bar and realized how poorly your acting skills were. Ada was no help, muttering something about finding a phonebooth and then slipping into the belated and boozed crowd. It was then that the supposed nectar in your glass began to taste like the cleaning products—that nose-scrunching stench. Thankfully, William was too involved in some tangent to notice you muffle a gag into your palm.
The dazzling hum in your ears muffled out all his words. In your drunken state, William appeared to be more confident than what you remembered, but you were unable to decipher whether it was from a change of heart or if he was trying to fall back in your good graces. Otherwise, you were blinded by the roaring bustle of the bar and the delicious swell of music that seemed to reverberate across your being.
Growing a little bored with William’s story, your attention wandered over his shoulder, still being sure to nod every now and then as if you were deeply pondering his words. Not far away from his side, a man seemed to linger—a man who was careful not to reach your eye. You must have laughed a little harder than usual because William turned sharply to the man at his side, gave him a quick once-over, then returned his attention to you, but by then it was too late, and you knew exactly what William’s relationship was with this man and where William’s confidence had come from.
“You’ll make a fine wife and a finer mother someday,” William quickly added.
You cursed the witch inside you, who laughed from her stomach and used his shoulder to steady herself. Once upon a time, that was all you longed to hear, but now, with a half-spilt martini in hand, you couldn’t care less. Both of you had found happiness despite your unconventional circumstances, and there was no more to it. You could close that chapter without any loose threads.
A little drunk, you thanked him, disappeared, and never thought of him again.
-
“I can’t do it, Ada,” you stressed, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the baby in your arms.
Motherhood came rumbling into your life like a rusty engine spitting out oil. ‘Instinctual’, the mothers down the lane from Arrow House had said, ‘it’s like your body has been preparing for it your whole life.’ How awful, you thought, and by the time one of them finished speaking about their experience with their first, your nose was so scrunched in disgust that you would need an iron to flatten out the wrinkles. It wasn’t until now that you longed to be in their shoes, because nothing came naturally to you.
“He’ll latch eventually; he’s just a little fussy,” Ada reassured.
“Is it supposed to hurt?”
“It’s perfectly normal.”
Then, after an hour of rubbing your sons back on the verge of tears, he finally began feeding from you. Ada soothed your back the whole time and cooed softly to calm both you and your unruly boy. Sometimes she brought Karl. He would obediently sit on her lap, playing with his wooden horse, while your little Charles fussed.
One time in the early morning, when you were up attempting to feed Charles, Tommy rushed in alert with disheveled hair and sunken eyes.
“Sorry,” you mouthed, deflated your hardworking husband had been disturbed from his sleep.
He ran his hands over his face and sighed. You mistook his action for frustration and desperately tried to hush your baby. Tommy moved over to the rocking chair where you sat, trying to feed little Charles in your arms.
“Don’t be sorry,” he whispered into the crook of your neck. “How is he?”
You flushed under the moonlight, suddenly embarrassed that your husband had caught you in this vulnerable position with the top of your slip peeled down. Your exposed skin hissed when he pressed a kiss against your pulse.
“I don’t think he likes me very much.”
Tommy inhaled sharply against your neck before resting his chin on your shoulder to peer down at Charles. Charles had settled since Tommy walked into the room, acutely aware of his father as his little hands made a grabbing motion for him. Diligently, Tommy relieved your arms of Charles and cradled him close to his chest. Within minutes, the little baby was gurgling happily and blinking in a way that suggested sleep was on the horizon after all.
Your husband didn’t dare make any sudden noise as he gently set Charles in his cradle. Once he was surely asleep, Tommy guided you up from the rocking chair and into your shared bedroom.
“See?” you hissed, still maintaining a soft voice, “he only wants you.”
Tommy wouldn’t hear any of it, pulling you into his arms as he sat on the edge of the mattress. Your slip was still pooled around your hips, so he took the opportunity to plant a kiss above your breasts, where your heart was.
“He loves you,” he drawled in that husky voice of his. “I know he does because I do.”
Your head ached, but you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to his words and touch. Tommy’s wandering hands teased the silk fabric that clung to your hips as you felt his nose trail down to your breast, where he kissed one of your aching nipples delicately. Suddenly hot, you hummed in delight, the back of his shorn scalp pleasant beneath your nails. A grunt, bathed in that musk of his devours your senses. Inhaling sharply, he took the bud between his full lips, sucking, licking, and nibbling gently while his hands explored further down. Your head lulled back from the pleasure, gasping and withering under his skilled tongue.
The next thing you knew, Tommy was tugging the rest of your silk slip off and reminding you of just how much he loved you.
-
“Charles! Come here!” Tommy called.
Your little boy loved to play in the backyard of Arrow House. Much like his father, Charles adored horses. Big ones, small ones, black ones, white ones—but most of all, he favored his Shetland pony. Tommy had brought it for Charles before he could even walk. He said something about it being important for his son to be raised around horses from a young age. And while you didn’t necessarily disagree, it still stressed you out to hold your baby so close to such a large, muscular animal. You knew the Arabian breeds spooked easily, so you steered clear of them and were able to keep Tommy and Charles happy.
But now he had grown up so fast and was able to run around on his own two legs, climb trees, and bruise his knees on the way down. The sun beat lovingly on the apples of his cheeks as he dirtied his trousers, kneeling by the fence to feed his Shetland (affectionately named Biscuit) hand-picked grass through the gaps.
“Charles! We’re leaving!” You called when he ignored his father.
Stubbornly, Charles spun around to pout his lip and cross his arms. He glared at you as threateningly as a five-year-old could. You bit your lip to hide your smile because he really did look like a little Tommy with those big blue eyes. It would only be a matter of time before he perfected his father’s stare. With a sigh, you shifted your daughter into Tommy’s arms before approaching Charles, who was picking angrily at the grass.
You reached a hand out toward him, "let's go.”
“No!”
“All right,” you said decisively, spinning around, “Ruby will have all the fun then.”
“No!” cried your little boy.
You stuck a hand up in surrender and started walking back to Tommy. “No, it’s all right.”
“No, no no no!” Came his protest, chasing behind you as the gravel crunched beneath his boots.
You paid no attention to him, keeping your eyes trained ahead, silently relieved that your ploy worked. Tommy watched on in amusement while Ruby suckled on her thumb, curiously watching her brother storm closer.
“You hear that, Ruby? We’re going to spoil you,” a short smile played on Tommy’s face as he adjusted her so that she sat comfortably on his hip.
“And me!” Charles added and gave his best pout.
“No, Charles, you said you didn’t want to go,” you reminded him, raising your eyebrows.
“I do! I do!”
“Hmm,” you thought aloud, and held a finger to your chin while looking to the sky in exaggerated contemplation. “Very well, but only if you get in daddy’s car right this instant.”
He climbed into the backseat of the Bentley without further fuss.
When all the bags were neatly packed in the back for the day’s festivities, Tommy came around your side to sit Ruby on your lap. Quickly, he leaned in to kiss you and pinch your cheek, which swelled into a glowing grin.
He smiled back and whispered low enough for only you to hear, “got him wrapped around your finger, eh?”
You laughed. “Him and a few other Shelby’s I know of.”
-
The thundering sound of music could be heard from outside the theater on the corner of Old Pauls. Inside, patrons mused between champagne, dancing, and making a display of their wealth by bidding on little trinkets. It was one of the many charity galas Tommy had to attend because of his new move into politics. Usually, you enjoyed dressing for those sorts of things, but tonight you simply weren’t feeling up to it. Maybe it was the drape of your dress not sitting right or the new leather shoes that still needed breaking in.
Your shimmering smile faded into the crowd as you snuck through the back door in your satin bordeaux dress. Old Pauls sat perched above the cemetery it was named after. Conveniently across the street from the buzz of the theater, it was airily quiet and stuck out from the rest of industrial Birmingham. Your heels clacked across the pavement as you wandered up and down the garden, glimpsing at stone angels and silver plaques. All you had to light your path were the streetlights and the moon.
Your diamond wedding ring twinkled under the stars as you stopped to trace a name. It was the same as your mother's, but with a different last name. Still, you always wondered what happened to her. Had she gotten married to another man and taken his name? You expected to shiver at the idea, but you found that thinking of her no longer unnerved you. She packed up the title of mother when she left you all alone in that cramped house.
Light spilled out onto the pavement across the street when the entrance to the theater swung open. A few men flew down the steps and split off in different directions. Thinking it odd, you remained crouched until they disappeared around their respective corners. That’s when you saw Tommy exit through the same doors, throwing a cigarette and wiping at his brow while he looked up and down the street. Quickly, you stood and waved your arm to get his attention. When he noticed, he stormed down the steps and stalked across the street and through the gates of Old Pauls over to you.
“I needed some air,” you spoke up before he could get a word in.
His eyes wildly flickered back and forth from yours in a frenzy. Under the moonlight, they looked almost translucent, and, save for a ghost of blue, his pupils were wide.
“Why the bloody hell are you out here, eh?” He demanded, gently shaking your head between his hands for emphasis while his eyebrows rose expectantly.
“It’s quieter.”
When he tilted his head to the sky and exhaled, your stomach dropped at the sight of blood. Your ears, which had been tuning out the music, flinched when a shrill cry from a woman rang out the theater doors. The music was gone, now replaced with screams as all the patrons rushed out, tripping over each other like it were a race. You turned back to Tommy, now as worried as the others.
“What the hell happened? Are you hurt?” You urged, gripping his white collar, now red, to inspect where the blood was coming from.
“Not mine,” he cleared his throat, grabbing the hand on his collar to tug you down the street.
The frame of your world stretched a little wider, like light pouring in through open shutters. Car doors slammed, and drivers honked at the agitated crowd who ran this way and that across the road.
“Where’s the fucking ambulance?” Shouted a man who took no care to avoid bumping into you.
You stumbled back, your hand slipping from Tommy’s on impact. Rage flickered across his features briefly, having noticed the man push through you, but he reconnected your hands and continued walking fast. When he reached the Bentley, he urged you inside, holding your hand the whole way until you were seated in the passenger seat.
“What the hell happened, Tommy?” You repeated as he slid into the driver’s seat.
“Someone got shot.”
Your eyes widened. “Are Polly and—”
“They’re fine.”
You sank back into your seat as the engine roared to life. Peaky Blinder’s followed the frenzied crowd, moving together like a pack of wolves onto the streets. They only parted to let Tommy’s Bentley through. Out the window, people were fighting and throwing fists as they all tried to escape the mayhem.
“Why aren’t they letting people through?” You asked after witnessing a Peaky Blinder block the road and refuse to let a car pass.
“Doesn’t matter.”
He never told you anything when it came to business. And although you suspected this was much more than the doing of the Shelby brothers, Tommy’s face never betrayed him. Simply put, if he didn’t want you to know, you wouldn’t.
“Would anyone want to follow us?”
“No.” He exhaled deeply, cleared his throat, and then reached to give your thigh a squeeze.
You knew it was a lie when his eyebrows rose. He only did that when he was worried. Your tongue remained pressed to the back of your teeth the entire ride home.
-
The howl of the wind whistled down into the valley of the gypsy camp Tommy had brought you and the children to.
“Pack your things,” he had said one night after storming through the front door of Arrow House, “we’re going on a trip.”
Charles and Ruby cheered, but you suspected something sinister beneath his intentions.
So, there you were, picking at the grass by your feet while you perched on the bottom step of the gypsy wagon Tommy parked beneath a tree for shade. He kept quiet for most of the ride, absorbed in leading the horse around loose gravel and stones, or rather, he led you to believe he was lost in concentration. Because, when it came down to it, you knew Tommy better than to assume nothing was wrong.
The past week, he had been acting different, jumpy even. He ran into the nursery during the early hours of the morning on edge, as if expecting something to be amiss. You tried interrogating him, but he brushed it off, insisting things were fine. Fine—you began detesting that word. Fine this, fine that, but if things were really fine, then why was he on edge?
Then came the bloodshot eyes and the slamming of his desk drawer when you entered the office. Only this time he couldn’t deny the unmistakable jingle of a bullet, which rattled in the wooden compartment like some sort of airy death chime.
A black hand. One for each Shelby. And since you were now one too, that meant neither you nor the children were subjected to any special treatment. A week, he said, a week for his family to clear up the business while he stayed here watching over you like a shepherd to his flock.
And watched he did, standing next to where you sat, he found peace observing Charles and Ruby as they chased each other around the overgrown field. There he remained for an hour or so, frighteningly still, the only motion being his sharp jaw chewing on a mint leaf, somewhat reminiscent of the soldier in your tent all those years ago. Next to him, tied to the tree, the black steed filled the silence with snorts and grazed favorably on the loose roots and grass patches.
“Ruby was crying this morning. She’s scared, Tom." You sighed.
Tommy hadn’t been there when you woke up that morning in the caravan. He returned shortly after, ominous as ever, just as Ruby had begun to settle.
He tossed the stalk of his mint leaf into the grass and offered you his hand. You looked up at him in question for a moment, slightly suspicious of his intentions. Nevertheless, you slid your hand into his, and he stood you up, sat down on the higher step, and pulled you between his legs to sit on the lower step. He hugged you from behind as he slouched to rest his head on your shoulder, then exhaled deeply.
“We will be home soon,” he whispered in your ear, brushing your knuckles tenderly.
“For how long? Until we get another bullet in the post?”
Tommy’s throbbing forehead found solace in the warmth of your neck.
“You’ve never been one to run,” you continued, “what’s bothering you? We took a vow that we would share everything.”
He nuzzled his nose deeper into your pulse.
Frustrated, you tried to get up, but he held you firmly against his chest.
“Italians.”
“Italians?”
“Italians sent the black hands.”
You waited in silence for more information, but more did not come.
“Speak to me, Thomas.”
“I don’t want you any more involved than you are.”
“They’ve sent death knocking on our door; how more involved could I be?”
Tommy moved methodically, licking his lips and clearing his throat. He squinted his eyes up at the glaring sun.
“It’s nothing you should be concerned about. I’ll keep us safe.”
“Nothing I should be concerned over, Thomas? Just how many people are we at war with?”
He didn’t answer, so you turned your head away from him. Charles and Ruby had since settled by a patch of flowers. Charles was crouched over, helping his sister gather all the yellow flowers for her yellow dress.
The tension broke the surface then.
“Why are you still fighting, Tom? Is this,” you nod to your children and breathe in the fresh air, “not enough?”
You pictured Arrow House and its lavish garden, one to compete with all the wealthy families down the lane. You thought of Arthur, John, Polly, Ada, and all his family that lived to see his success. Everything, from the thoroughbreds in the stable to the fancy cars. The money itself was a testimony to his drive. What more could the gangster of Birmingham want when he already had everything?
You had gone and worked yourself up now because the world seemed blurrier than before.
Tommy, still on his guard, guided your chin to your shoulder so he could kiss the tears away. “It is enough.”
“Then make it enough. You’re respectable now, so stop the fighting.” Your voice broke at the end.
He hung his forehead on your shoulder. Like a flower sheltered away from the sun, Tommy wilted when he was away from his business. Usually, you were a strong enough light to keep him going, but whatever business he had gotten himself into was poisoning him, and ever the addicted flower, he kept running out to the fields, continuing to drink in the sunlight until it was too much and turned his leaves brow. Because business was what occupied his mind day and night, he was unable to turn the cogs of the engine off and let the air out of the tires.
A hand brushes your hair away to kiss the spot beneath your ear, airing out the destructive thoughts.
God, you loved him anyway. An overpowering feeling that ruled over calculating minds like Tommy’s and faint hearts like yours. You were no better than him—both addicted to a little sunlight.
-
The framed photographs on the wall shook as your third-eldest slammed the door to her room closed.
“I hate you!” She cried from the other side.
Your husband, Tommy, sighed to the ceiling, then stalked past you to his study, no longer interested in anything your daughter had to say. They had been at it for the last ten minutes arguing over some boy she was seeing, and your ears were just about ringing having witnessed it from the sidelines. You were left there in the hallway, an unwilling participant in the unspoken feud between father and daughter, and you understood that whoever you went to console would take it that you were siding with them, even though you just wanted to keep your family together.
Going to your daughter was the instinctive answer, but you knew she needed time to cool off. Tommy was the only reasonable choice.
You knocked on the door to his office before letting yourself in.
“Come to lick my wounds, eh?” He mused while smoking a cigarette.
Your lips wormed into a thin line. “This needs to stop, Tom.”
“Yeah,” he said, tapping the ash into his tray, “it will fucking stop.” He points with his cigarette, “I’ll make it fucking stop.”
You sighed. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
The chair screeched as he stood. “I’m her father, and if I say she can’t see that boy, she can’t. It’s only a childish fling; she’ll get over it.”
He poured a whiskey and downed it by the time you walked around his desk so that you were face-to-face with him.
“They’re in love, Tommy.”
“Yeah?” He scoffed. “Well, that can be undone.”
You held his glare, a challenge lighting in your own. “So easily, you think?”
He paused mid-drag, catching onto the underlying meaning in your words. “No,” he said, setting the cigarette down in the ash tray and grabbing your shoulders. “Don’t act like that.”
“Act like what?”
“Like you’re threatening our love over some fucking boy that’s charmed our daughter. They’re too young.”
“He’s sweet.”
“Oh, sweet and nice, I’m sure. But he’ll have no place in this house.”
“Why?”
“Why? Because I fucking said so!” He spat.
“Don’t yell at me.”
“Or what? You’ll leave me?” He huffed in amusement. “You won't; you love me too much.”
“You’re so certain?”
He paused for a moment and stared at you as if he couldn’t believe what you had said.
“Yeah, because we still fuck like two people who love each other, eh? And you’ve not told me no before, so if the day comes and your body no longer wants mine, then I’ll be worried. But until then, don’t test me with empty threats." His face hardened.
He knew you like the back of his hand. All bark, no bite. You loved him inexplicably, even after all these years, gray hairs and all. His face, body, and soul nourished you until you were satiated and full. And even if his eyebrows furrowed at times, you were willing to bet that it was for aesthetic, a shapely shadow gathered over the years from being the stoic leader the Peaky Blinders and Shelby family needed. How could you fault him for it?
Because, at the end of the day, you were a team. Even if he played the role of an overprotective father a bit too convincingly, he only ever wanted what was good for your daughter. Everything he worked for, ultimately, was for his family. A family man. And that came with its virtues and vices because, despite what Tommy thought, he wasn’t perfect; no one was.
Shrinking under his hands, you breathed a sigh and appeased him. “End this feud, Tom. Find peace with her. I don’t care what you do, but by the end of it, I expect to be able to sit down at the dinner table without having to beg my husband and daughter to look up from their plates.” You stroked his hands, which held your shoulders, and finally blinked up at him.
A haze of softness swept across his glare and melted the glaciers to a thin sheen of blue. The seams of exhaustion frayed one by one through his muscles. He nodded, licked his lips, and leaned down for a kiss of absolution. Not entirely prepared to surrender, you tilted your head so that he found the corner of your mouth instead.
“It will be done, love.” He brushed the apples of your cheeks tenderly. “And by tonight,” his voice lowered, “I promise you’ll forget all about it.”
Only then did you accept his kiss, eager to put the grievance to rest. Tommy, on the other hand, had other plans and stepped forward so that you were pinned between his desk and hips. He quickly began to gather your skirts above your waist, but you pulled away just as fast at the hiss of air against your exposed skin. An unsolicited gasp escaped his mouth when your knee brushed him there, and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, looking deep into his eyes.
“Promise me you won’t break her heart. She might not be old enough now, but I don’t want you to put her off love forever,” you caressed his jaw.
“No,” he agreed, breathier than usual, flexing the hands that were still caught up in the fabric of your skirt.
“And our Daisy may never say it, but I know she loves you dearly. So please, Tom, be gentle with her. I don’t want her to grow up despising you. Tell her you love her, kiss her forehead, hug her.”
He deflated, and you watched him swallow his pride. Cogs turned against the sweltering lust, threatening to deplete the clever thoughts in that powerful head of his in favor of your careful touch. Please, please, please, you begged without uttering a word; agree with me on this, Tom.
Tommy leaned back down to rest his forehead on yours; his face gave nothing away. You were sure he had found something to say, which would make you feel like a fool for asking. However, when you embraced those faint subtleties of emotion flickering across his face like candlelight, so miniscule you might blink and miss it, you found nothing of the sort to suggest any hostile nature. Because Tommy loved you.
“I will.”
-
A/N: Tried doing a long one shot, what does everyone think? Yay or nay? Comment to be added to the tag list!
Taglist: @maliceofwonderland , @fairytale07 , @goblinjnr , @ilovepeoplesdads , @multidimensionalslut
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hllywdwhre · 7 days
Text
Revenge - Tommy Shelby
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Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy
Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any
Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖
MDNI, 18+ only
You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.
Scratch that.
You knew exactly how it had happened.
Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.
You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.
Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.
It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.
Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.
It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.
“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.
Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.
“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.
Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.
The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.
You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,
“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.
“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”
You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,
“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.
Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.
The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.
Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.
Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.
You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.
I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.
You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.
As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.
The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.
“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.
The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.
You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.
You needed Sabini to notice you.
You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.
The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.
You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.
It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.
“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.
A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,
“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.
“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“
“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”
His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”
You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.
“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.
Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.
“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.
He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.
Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.
“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.
“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.
You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.
“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”
“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.
“And how do you see it?”
“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.
“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.
“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.
His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.
“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.
You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.
“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”
“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.
“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”
His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.
“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”
In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.
You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.
Revenge is a scorned Shelby
As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.
Sabini is dead.
That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.
But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.
You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.
You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.
When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.
You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.
He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.
Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.
“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.
Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,
“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.
“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”
Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”
“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.
“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”
Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.
“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.
“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”
“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.
“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.
“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”
“Explain.”
“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.
“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.
“Yes.”
“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.
You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.
“Yes.”
“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”
“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.
In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.
You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.
“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.
“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.
“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.
“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.
“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.
“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”
You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.
He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.
“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.
“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.
He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.
He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,
“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,
“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.
“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”
The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.
“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.
“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.
You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.
If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.
His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.
It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.
His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.
Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.
Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.
“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”
Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.
You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.
Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.
You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.
If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.
And then your third.
Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.
He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.
“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”
You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.
“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.
Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.
Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.
The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.
Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.
He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.
His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.
The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.
“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.
“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.
“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.
“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.
“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”
“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.
“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.
You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.
His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.
“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”
“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.
His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.
Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.
“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.
“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.
“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.
“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.
“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”
His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.
“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.
“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.
“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.
“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.
“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.
A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.
He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.
“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.
“I’m yours and you’re mine.”
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geeky-politics-46 · 6 months
Text
Kinktober 2023 - Day 5
Caught Masturbating with Tommy Shelby
"Caught In The Act"
Smut - Explicit content - NSFW - 18+ only!
Summary: Tommy has somehow fallen through time & made a new life in the modern day with you. He wants more than friendship & an awkward encounter makes you confront that idea.
Warnings: Smut (NSFW) - 18+ ONLY - masturbation, voyeurism, sex toys, dirty talk, swearing, pet names, hair pulling, creampie, vaginal sex, very light dom/sub, a little bit of fluff
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Tommy wasn't quite sure what to expect when he opened the door to your small apartment and immediately heard the sound of your voice moaning and whimpering. He immediately went to reach for his weapon, suddenly remembering that he was unarmed. He was still getting used to living in this new century and the fact that he no longer had a reason to be armed.
It was all still a mystery as to how he ended up here. He had no idea how he had taken one breath in 1930 and the next in 2023. Neither did you, but that didn't stop you from helping him. Even though to pretty much anyone else, his story made him sound utterly certifiable. Instead of judging or turning and running the other way, you were kind and caring.
He slowly began approaching your bedroom, and the sound of your voice became louder. The closer he got, the clearer it became that your whimpers were not of pain or fear but of pleasure. He had dreamt about hearing you make sounds like that since the moment he first met you. 
You had been so sweet to him since he ended up here. You showed him kindness in a way he was completely unused to. Allowing him to stay in your spare room and helping him learn to navigate the modern world. He had become quite smitten with you, actually. You had given him the chance of a fresh start. A chance he was determined to seize.
You also weren't afraid of him. You would talk back to him and call him on his bullshit. Your modern feminism serving you quite well when mixed with your sharp wit. He hated to admit that it gave him butterflies when you laughed openly in his face about doing some chore he always thought to be 'woman's work'. He knew damn well you wouldn't be serving him anytime soon, and frankly, he found your demeanor refreshing. 
You were also stunningly beautiful. In a way that was all your own. Tommy Shelby was well accustomed to interacting with and even seducing attractive women. He had been married to two beautiful women. Both Grace and Lizzie were enchanting, but you were a creature from another world entirely. 
All of these things had him utterly spellbound by you. He'd be lying if he said he didn't spend his evenings imagining what it would be like to be yours and for you to be his. He had a suspicion that underneath your sweet exterior was a devil waiting to come out at the most intimate times. He wanted to be the one to unleash it.
He often thought about you sneaking in to join him in the shower after you overheard him stroking himself. Picturing you dropping to your knees in front of him. Staring up at him through your eyelashes. Water droplets starting to roll down your body, your nipples pebbled and at attention from the temperature change. Wanting to help take care of him, since you knew that it was because of you that his cock was throbbing.
It was because of all the fantasies he had about you that he kept walking towards your door. Stopping only momentarily when he saw your door was cracked open. Your voice was now crystal clear as you whined and moaned, but now he could also hear a soft buzzing and a wet sound. There was now no doubt in his mind exactly what you were doing. You were masturbating.
His suit pants tightening at just the thought that he was catching you playing with yourself. He really was trying to turn over a new leaf. To be a better, more respectable man than he had been. He knew that peeking through your open door was the wrong thing to do, but he just couldn't help himself. Not when he was still a devil at heart, and you sounded so angelic.
What he saw when he looked through the cracked door was immediately worth any guilt he may have felt. It was by far the most erotic thing he had ever seen in his entire life. You were naked from the waist down with the t-shirt you had slept in rucked up to expose your breasts. Up on your knees with your face turned to the side and your shoulders pressed down into the mattress, your ass up in the air. Your eyes squeezed shut, and your mouth dropped open. Your hair dishelved and a little sweaty. Both of your hands busy between your legs. 
In his time vibrators and other sex toys were uncommon. Really, they were just being invented. So seeing you with a vibrator in one hand pressed to your clit, and a big fake cock in your other hand  greedily ramming it in and out of your tight little hole was nearly enough to have him cumming on the spot. You were taking what you wanted, what you needed, and doing it with zero shame or hesitation.
He could see the dildo glistening with your slick everytime you pulled it out of your cunt. Judging from the ring of white cream around the base of it, you must have already been fucking yourself for a while. His hand was already moving to palm himself over the fabric of his pants. Gripping his length and wishing his cock was that toy stretching your pussy. Biting his lip to keep from groaning and giving away his presence.
All that went out the window, however, when you started to moan again. Clearly getting closer and closer to another orgasm. Your hips thrusting to meet the toy and the wet squelch of your cunt getting louder. As you chased your climax you started to speak. Letting the fantasy in your head spur you closer to cumming. It was what you said that sent Tommy spiraling further into his own lust alongside you.
His name. You said his name.
"Oh fuck, yes Tommy. Right there. Fuck! You feel so good. Need you to make me cum again."
You said his name while you were fucking yourself with your toy. You were imagining your toy was his cock. You wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. No, you said you needed him. Needed, not just wanted him.
He felt his member pulse and leak at your admission. Before he even realized what he was doing, he brought one hand up to rap lightly against your doorframe. Officially announcing his presence before moving to open the door wider. It didn't leave you any less startled by the sudden intrusion at such a private moment. 
He couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face as you scrambled to cover yourself. Pulling your shirt back down to hide your breasts and grabbing at the covers to conceal the mess between your thighs. Quickly trying to stash your toys under your pillow. Not that he couldn't hear the wet suction of your cunt desperately trying to hold onto the dildo as you pulled it out. Or your vibrator still buzzing under the pillow that you were now pretending you didn't hear. Not that you didn't look like you had spent the day fucking yourself silly anyway.
He slowly entered your room. Fully aware of the tent in his pants. Knowing that it gave away the fact that he had been eavesdropping on you. His smirk turned into a grin as he saw you notice his erection. Involuntarily licking your lips. Obviously, still in need of satiating your desires despite your embarrassed blush.
"Tommy, I thought you had gone out. How… how long have you been home? … how long have you been standing at my door?" 
His eyes dropped to the floor momentarily, debating how to answer in a way that wouldn't make you think he was a creep. Even though you both clearly desired the same thing. Now he had discovered that he could give it to you, but only if he played his hand diplomatically. 
"I did go out, but then I came back. Decided that I enjoyed your company far more than anyone else I could have run into. As far as your other questions… I was worried when I came back and heard you moaning. I thought maybe you had fallen, but I was obviously very mistaken. You are definitely not hurt, but you do seem to be in need of help. Help that you seem to want me to offer, and it would be remiss of me not to tell you that I desperately want to provide that help. That I think about you at night and wish I could be in your bed instead of my own. That I daydream about fucking you on every surface of this apartment." 
By now, your mouth had fallen open at his admission. Clearly, you hadn't been expecting him to confess all this. He confidently strode closer to your bed, bringing himself to stand right at the edge of the side where you sat. Your eyes roaming his body before eventually falling back to his bulge before quickly jumping back up to his blue eyes. 
"Now, my beautiful girl, I heard you call out my name before. Pretending that toy that you're hiding was my cock. I'd be surprised if you haven't heard me calling out your name as I fuck my own fist. Pretending I'm fucking your pretty little cunt instead. So I think it's safe to say we both want the same things, but I'll ask anyway. Do you want me like I want you?" 
Tommy moved to sit himself down on the bed in front of you. Bringing one hand up to your cheek and letting his thumb pull lightly on your bottom lip. He could see the lust in your eyes, and you quickly nodded your head. Whispering a soft breathy "yes" that made him smile wider because now he knew he could really have you. 
He brought his other hand to your waist and slowly brought his plush lips to yours. The kiss began soft and tender, but before long, it started to become more heated. Both of you starting to feel the need to finally feel each other grow. 
Tommy carefully lowered you down to lay on the bed. Throwing the covers off of your legs so he could run his hands over the soft flesh of your thighs. One of your hands moving to the longer pieces of his hair and the other starting to toy with the buttons on his crisp white shirt. He still insisted on wearing a suit nearly every day, and you were thankful he had apparently already ditched his waistcoat and jacket before he heard you. 
One by one, you undid the buttons on his shirt. Opening just enough that you could slip your hand inside and feel his bare chest. Your fingers dancing over his dusting of light brown chest hair and the edges of his tattoo. You wanted to rip his clothes off and let him take you. To let him bring your fantasies to life, but you knew that before you lost all sense of self-control, you needed to figure out what exactly this was. So you lightly pushed him back far enough to separate your lips from his. Enough to look into his mesmerizing blue eyes.
"Wait, Tommy, hold on. I'm not the person that just fucks people. I'm not good at the no strings attached thing. If that's what you want this to be then we are better off just finishing this each by ourselves. Pretending neither of us ever saw or said anything."
He chuckled at your statement. Not because it was funny, but in disbelief. Could you really not tell the spell you had him under? Did you really think he would spend so much time thinking about you if he only wanted you for a night?
"Oh no, princess, we do this it means you are mine. It means you are mine, and I am yours. Like I said, I want to fuck you and love you on and against every surface of this apartment. That will take far longer than one night. We do this, there is no getting rid of me." 
With that, he forcefully crashed his lips into yours, desperately trying to convey how badly he truly wanted you. The feeling of your fingernails gripping into his back through his shirt only spurring him on. Like squeezing your heels into the sides of a horse, your actions only making him move faster. 
He reached down to pull your leg up over his hip as he continued to kiss you. Moving down to suck and bite at your neck as he ground his pelvis down against you. Automatically, he could feel the heat from your sex through the fabric of his pants and boxers. Reminding him again of how he had found you. How you were still soaked and ready for him. 
A growl fell from his lips as he bit your neck when the sensation of your slick started to soak through to his cock. Rutting his hips into you harder and pulling the most beautiful gasp from you that turned into a wanton moan. Suddenly any trepidation you had been feeling had fled and your animal urges took over. 
You immediately brought both hands to his shirt and proceeded to rip it open. Sending buttons scattering before shoving it back off of his shoulders so Tommy could discard it. He moved on to his pants just as quickly. Getting the button and zipper undone while he took off his undershirt.
You were just able to shove his pants down to his knees when he pushed you back flat on the bed. Quickly taking off his slacks, leaving him in just his boxers before returning all his attention to you. Slowly dragging his hands up the outsides of your thighs to start pulling your shirt up your body. His eyes studying each new inch of flesh revealed to him.
When your shirt was finally high enough to reveal the treasure hidden between your thighs, you thought Tommy might actually start to drool. You were soaked, and your thighs were messy with your arousal. Your clit was swollen and puffy from your vibrator. Your lips flushed and your hole was still gaping slightly from where you had your dildo buried inside of you. The only thing missing from the picture was the sight of his cum leaking out of you. That would have made it perfect.
"Fucking perfect." 
He whispered under his breath before diving down to pepper your stomach with kisses. Biting at your hip bones and stealing a single taste of your cunt before continuing upward. He knew he would be back with his head between your legs later that night. Right now he couldn't wait to be inside you, but he had to finish getting you naked first.
His lips danced over your soft stomach, and his teeth nipped at your ribcage. Nuzzling his nose at the bottom of your breasts as he started to pull your shirt up over them. Keeping his face close to your skin and reveling in your sweet noises. Adoring every part of your body. Smiling against your skin when you finished pulling your shirt off and threw it to the side. Your body finally completely bare for him.
You were getting impatient with his slow pace. As much as you were enjoying his touch, you had been ready for him to fuck you before he had even entered the room. You tried hard to suppress the needy moans that escaped your lips as he studied every inch of your naked body.
"You are even more beautiful than I fantasized." 
As nice as his compliment felt, you were nearing the end of your rope. You needed to feel him inside you, or else you feared for your sanity.
"You've already got me in bed naked and horny, Thomas. You don't have to lay on the flattery. I'm on the pill so just hurry up and fuck me."
You reached down to grab his erection. Squeezing firmly over the fabric of his boxers before shoving your hand inside to start stroking him. Your whimpers were nearly louder than his as you felt every vein on his length and circled his tip only to find him leaking and wet for you. 
Through staggered breath and the most beautiful groans and growls, he finished his thoughts. His hips started to rut into your hand as pumped his cock perfectly. He mentally thanked the advancements in birth control that he wouldn't have to wait or pull out. Although he always preferred bareback anyway, with both horses and women.
"It's not flattery if it's the truth, and it is the truth. Like I said, I've thought about this. A lot. Now, lay back on the bed for me like a good girl."
You did as he said. Pulling your hand out of his boxers and licking the precum off of your fingertips as you laid yourself out for him. Legs spread and back arched in a sinful tableau just for him. Letting him sit back on his heels and study you for a moment. His eyes devouring every inch of you. 
A cocky smirk on his face, he stared right into your eyes as he pushed his boxer shorts down over his hips. His cock finally free and standing proud. Tommy wasn't sure he had ever actually been this hard before, and it was all because of you. It was all for you. 
You groaned at the sight of his thick cock. It was even bigger than your toy was. Biting your bottom lip and grabbing your own breasts. Toying with your nipples as you thought about how good it was going to feel to finally have his cock inside you after all these months of wanting. 
He didn't break eye contact with you as he gripped his length and gave it a few slow strokes. Using the precum dripping for his flushed red cockhead to prepare himself. Enjoying the feeling of you watching him. Especially now that you knew he spent nearly every night doing just that thinking only of you. 
"Tell me what you want. Tell me what you want me to do. Just like you did with that fake cock of yours." 
Tommy descended on you like a predator caging in its prey. His arms braced on either side of your head. His chest pressed to yours. His cock now shamelessly rubbing against your wet cunt. Sliding up and down against your lips and the ridge of his swollen head teasing your clit. You could hear the wet sounds coming from between you. 
The most desperate noise you ever made pulled from your throat before you could answer. Right before you did exactly what he told you and begged for his cock like you had with your toy. Your eyes pleading for him to finally take you.
"Want your cock inside me, Tommy. Need you to fuck my tight little pussy and make me cum. Want to cum on your cock. Want to feel you cum inside me." 
A growl came from the back of his throat. He was very pleased with how you begged for him. He lowered to nip at your bottom lip. His eyes were nearly black with only a sliver of the normal bright blue remaining. 
"That's a good girl. Normally so nice and sweet and proper, but not in the bedroom, eh? I could get very used to hearing you talk like a slut for me."
He brought one hand to drag down your body. Making sure to stop and tug at your nipple before continuing its path between your bodies. Moving his cock so his fat tip sat right at your opening. 
Slowly starting to push inside of you. With how wet you were, he could almost slip right in. Your warmth engulfing him and making him swear under his breath. No one had ever felt as perfect around him as you did. 
"Oh my God, Tom."
You whined at the stretch of him. Even after spending so much time fucking your toy, Tommy still made you feel delightfully full. His length immediately brushing up against your g-spot that was still swollen from fucking yourself. It felt like he was made for you. His slow shallow thrusts immediately starting to push you towards orgasm, and your moans and whimpers starting to push him towards his.
"Can't believe you were holding this perfect cunt back from me this whole time. Well that's not happening anymore, love. I'm never leaving your pretty little pussy ever again." 
His thrusts started to pick up pace when you greedily nodded and agreed. Pushing his hips into yours with more force as he dropped his head to bite and suck at your neck. One hand coming to dig your nails into his shoulders, and the other was moving to pull at the longer pieces of hair on the top of his head. 
Your own hips starting to roll underneath him to meet his thrusts. The sound of your bare skin slapping together starting to echo around the room with the squelch of your wet cunt as an accent. Both of you already breathing heavily. The realization dawning on both of you as soon as your cunt started squeezing his shaft that this round wasn't going to take very long. Tommy could already feel little spurts of precum dripping from his cock into your cunt each time you contracted around him.
"Oh fuck, darling. I'm so close. Where do you want me to cum? Want me to fill you up princess?"
His declaration made the band start to tighten in your low belly. 
"Fill me up, Tommy. Cum in my pussy, baby. I'm close too. Keep talking to me. You're gonna make me cum." 
An evil smirk on his face as he gave up, trying to hold anything back. His hips starting to piston into you. The headboard of your bed beginning to bang against the wall as Tommy began pounding into you. His intense blue eyes locked with yours and his nose nuzzling against you as he spoke. Urging you on.
"That's it, love. Don't hold back. Let go for me. Fuck, you feel so incredible. Thought about this every night and it's even better than I could have imagined. Feel like this cunt was made for me. Is this my cunt? Cum on my cock and prove it to me, love. Cum for me." 
All it took was his order to send you over the edge. Your back arching and a ragged moan pulled from your chest as your body began to shudder. The feel of you cumming allowing Tommy to finally let go. His last few thrusts becoming sloppy as he followed your lead into orgasmic bliss. The feeling of him shooting his warm load inside your cunt prolonging your own orgasm.
After a moment to catch your breath, Tommy leaned down to place another kiss on your lips. Less heated and hurried but no less passionate. Then he slowly pulled out of you and rolled to the side. Urging you to lift your head so he could thread one around underneath and wrap it around your shoulder. Wanting to hold you close but not wanting to smother you. 
When Tommy finally broke the silence, it startled you a little. Part of you had still expected him to just get up and leave. You certainly weren't expecting him to say what he did. 
"Thank you."
You couldn't help the guffaw that came from your body. Quickly elaborating before he got the wrong idea from your reaction.
"For what, fucking you?"
Luckily, he seemed to find your response funny and gave a chuckle of his own before he elaborated. His voice getting softer as he let down his armor, something he had rarely done before, and let you inside. Rolling over to face you and wrapping one atm around your middle to pull you closer to him. His aquamarine eyes were bright and clear as he looked deeply into your eyes.
"For everything. So technically yes, thank you for fucking me, but more than that thank you for everything else you've done for me. For letting me stay here despite having no idea where I was or how I got here. For trusting me when I know others told you not to. For teaching me how to navigate this world. For giving me a chance. For all of it. Thank you." 
--------------------------------
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cillianhead · 6 months
Note
Your Thomas Shelby's younger inexperienced wife and you are both experimenting in the bedroom and he lets you choke him 🥵
Oh absolutely...!
God I can't wait to write this. Thank you for your request! I hope you like it :-)
Show Me How Much You Need Me || Thomas Shelby x Reader
Part One!
Warnings: SMUT, unprotected P in V, choking, light spanking i guess??, face slapping, age gap, degrading language, swearing / vulgar language, kinda mild breeding kink, daddy kink, squirting, mild overstimulation sort of, oral sex (f receiving), arranged marriage, very very very very vague implications of dubcon sort of but like not really but just be warned! adult content. (sorry if I missed any warnings)
18+ Minors DNI
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To your parents, being unmarried at the age of twenty was absolutely unacceptable. So on your birthday, they had men lining up around the block, both old and young alike, hoping to be your husband. Now there were some good candidates, not that you had a choice in who you were going to marry. Your parents were control freaks, deciding they were going to decide for you. But as soon as Thomas Shelby walked into the room, cigarette hanging loosely out of his lips, a trail of smoke following him and a huge wad of cash in hand and then tossing it down in front of my parents, acting like he owned the place... You knew no one else stood a chance.
Now you'd been married for a month, Tommy was an insatiable man. He got what he wanted when he wanted. You remember the look in his eyes on your wedding night when you told him you were a virgin, he nearly came in his trousers at the thought of your tight pussy. You've had sex pretty much twice a day or more ever since, he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Tommy showed you how to fuck, how to suck his cock, showed you how to please a man. Of course, the only man you would ever be allowed to please would be Tommy himself. You were hesitant to marry him, you were also slightly afraid of him but as you got to know each other, got to spend more time together as husband and wife, you appreciated his company, and you could even see yourself beginning to love him. But lately the sex between you had started to die down, Tommy being busy dealing with the peaky blinders and all their drama, you'd only have sex every other day or so. Which for you guys, wasn't a lot. But you knew he was tired, it wasn't cause he wasn't attracted to you anymore.
It was pouring rain outside as you both quietly sat in bed, Tommy read his novel quietly, glasses sitting on the edge of his nose while you brushed through your hair, topless and only in some thin white panties for him. There was a visible wet patch from your arousal, you were always wet when you were near Tommy, he just had that affect over you. He thought it was cute how easily excitable you are. You were incredibly needy, now that you'd had a taste of what it was like to have sex, you were constantly asking for it, constantly trying to get his attention. Poor little inexperienced thing you were.
"Tommy," You whined, placing your hairbrush on the bedside table and then leaning over, pressing your face into his neck. "Pay attention to me..."
Tommy let out an amused huff, turning another page of his book, not bothering to even spare one glance at you. "What do y'need, love?" He asked gruffly, reaching his spare arm and wrapping it around you, pulling you into him. He knew exactly what you needed, he just wanted to hear you say it. The way you got embarrassed and shy was incredibly sexy to him.
"Need you..." You whispered, placing kisses along the column of his throat.
"Gotta be more specific than that," He closed his book, finally setting it aside along with his glasses. "What do you need from me?"
"I need... you..." You were flustered, burying your face in his bare chest but he grabbed you by the nape of the neck like you were a kitten and pulled your head up, forcing you to look at him. "I need you to fuck me... Tommy..."
"Is that so?" He chuckled, running a thumb over your bottom lip which you innocently popped into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit. You weren't doing intentionally to turn him on, you just liked the way it felt to suck on something, especially if that something was Tommy's thumb. But the sight was suggestive, Tommy wished it was his cock in your mouth instead. "Fuckin' hell, alright, sit in me lap, I'll give you what ye need."
You continued sucking on his thumb, keeping eye contact with him as he pulled down his sleep shorts and pulled down your underwear. "Go on then, take what ya came here for." Tommy pulled his wet thumb away, shoving it between your folds and rubbing your clit, making you weak in the knees. He had so much power over you. So you grabbed onto his shoulders before holding the head of his dick before lining up with the leaky tip and sinking down on him. You watched his eyes roll into the back of his head as you squeezed around him. "Easy, girl." He warned, his cock twitching inside you, he could cum from just how tight you were. God he fucking loved that his cock was the only one you'd ever taken, loved the way you stretched around him.
"Fuck... so deep..." You sat on him for just a moment, adjusting to the feeling. Even though you'd taken him plenty of times, your cunt just hadn't gotten use to the sheer size and girth of him. It made you feel like you were being torn open in the most beautiful way possible. "T-Tommy..."
"Ride me, slut, go on... show me how much you need me." He slapped your ass harshly before grabbing a handful of it and encouraging your hips to start grinding against him. "Such a pretty girl."
You moved your hips back and forth, a bit shy at first as you did so but as more and more pleasure began to build in your stomach, your dignity went out the window as you began desperately bouncing on his cock. Tommy had never seen you so hungry for it before, he just leaned back against the bed, his hands gripping your waist as you took what you wanted.
Your tits bounced right in front of his face and Tommy thought to himself this was the greatest view in the world. His pretty little wife fucking herself and her perfect tits moving in sync with her movements. He let out gravelly groans as you sunk back down on him, sweaty, you froze for a moment to catch your breath. This was still all so new to you, still such an innocent little thing. You still need Tommy's help to get off sometimes, not quite strong enough yet to ride him all on your own.
"Tommy..." You whispered with a small whine. "Need your help..." Your flushed cheeks and blown out pupils were a sign of how lost in the moment you were. He just smiled as he pushed you down onto your back and threw your legs over his shoulders. His cock pressing even deeper into your pussy, somehow. You could feel him in your stomach.
"This what you want, little girl?" He hummed as he started to fuck in and out of you, impaling you on his dick. "Want me to fuck you like the slut you are?"
You moaned, nodding dumbly as your mind went blank. "Yes! Tommy! Fuck me!" You were incredibly loud and you were lucky no one else was in the house because otherwise they'd hear how loud you were being, when usually you were quite reserved around other people. "Pl-Please put a baby in me Tommy... let me make you a daddy..."
"Fuck..." Tommy could cum at your words, "Yeah?" He panted continuing to piston in and out of you, one of his hands grabbed roughly at your tits, playing with your hard nipple. "Gonna breed you like the bitch that you are." You moaned at his words, arching your back further into him as he gave you another harsh spank to your asscheeks.
"Tommy... gonna cum... please... don't stop!" You sounded like a pornstar, Tommy leaned down and kissed you.
"My pretty little wife," His voice was vibrating through you, the gravel of it making you even wetter. The sound of his cock slipping in and out of your sopping little cunt echoed throughout the room as he leaned down even further and connected his lips to yours once again. He felt your fingers curl around his neck, both hands wrapped around his throat, Tommy was never one to get flustered but the idea of you choking him made his hips stutter as you squeezed around him a bit. "Fuck..." He moaned lowly as you held onto his neck. You looked so sweet in that moment. "Such a stupid little girl, when you're full of cock, don't even know what ye doin, eh?" He fucked into you more, feeling you squeeze around him. Your hands held onto his throat as if you were holding him on a leash.
You were a writhing mess, shaking underneath him, only choking him further. You looked at how pretty he looked with your hands wrapped around his throat and how flushed his face was, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead as his hips bruised your pelvis. "Daddy...!" You moaned out, experimentally, waiting to see his reaction. You had always fantasized about calling him it but you were always too nervous to do so. But right now you were drunk on the pleasure, too fucked out to care.
"Fuck... say that again... gonna fuckin' fill you up, love." Tommy was just as desperate as you now, chasing his own high as you started to convulse around him, your orgasm unraveling, he lightly slapped you across the face, hard enough to break you out of your daze but not enough to actually do any damage. "Fuckin' do what I say!" You clenched tighter around him, cumming even harder at the sound of him yelling at you. Him being angry at you shouldn't be so hot but it was.
"Sorry... s-sorry... daddy!" You sobbed out as you gushed around his cock that began leaking cum. "Please... cum in me, please daddy..."
"That's right, baby..." He was rutting into you now, hips moving into you hard yet slow. "I'm yer daddy." He let out a deep mewl as he came inside you, making you moan even louder, your voice hoarse and your throat sore as you let go of his throat, collapsing your arms back. Tommy fucked his cum deep into you despite the sensitivity of his cock. Slowly pulling out of you, he pushed your legs against your chest to look down at the slick between your legs. A little bit of cum dripped out of your stretched out hole, earning you two fingers pushing it back into you, you just whimpered, a bit overstimulated.
"Think I gotta get a taste of your pussy now, love," He hummed getting down on his tummy, face aligned perfectly as he moved his fingers in a 'come hither' movement. You gasped, he was hitting your g-spot each time.
"Fuck, tommy!"
"Eh, that's not me name right now." He looked at you warningly before unhinging his jaw and attaching his hot mouth to your sensitive clit again.
"Oh daddy! 'S too much, too much... please..." You couldn't tell if you wanted him to stop or to keep going, it was all too much for your brain to comprehend. You were seeing hot flashes of white, your body going completely limp as another orgasm washed over you, rendering you helpless to the pleasure that was consuming you from the inside out. "D-Daddy..." You dumbly moaned.
"Tastes so fuckin good, keep cummin' on my face." His nose brushed your clit as he licked up your juices and you came again and again and again. Extremely overstimulated. "Just gimme one more, baby then I'll leave you alone." You were unresponsive, nodding your head weakly, wanting to be good for him. "Such a good girl for daddy, aren't ya?" He made out with your gushing sex, adding a third finger.
And suddenly you felt it burst out of you, drenching his hair, face, and the sheets underneath you. Squirting all over his face and just as you thought it was over, it just kept on coming. Your mouth agape in a silent scream of pleasure, he drank it all up, continuing to slurp at your pussy until it finally ended. He pulled away, leaning back on his ankles, Tommy had a very pleased look on his face, your squirt dripping down his chin and his chest sticky with your cum and the sheets soaking wet. "That was the best bloody thing to ever happen to me." He huffed, licking his wet fingers. You laid there, tears streaming down your face and twitching gently, still coming down. He laid down beside you. "You did so good f'me, so good, you're alright, I'm here."
He held you as you continued to shake, waiting for you to calm down a bit. "I've never done that before..." You whimpered, pussy throbbing, full of cum, and sopping wet.
He gave you a loud genuine laugh, still sticky with your juices as he kissed you. "I'm gonna make you squirt over and over and over again every time we fuck now, just so you know."
You giggled at his words, he was gonna be the death of you.
-
I know there wasn't a whole lot of 'experimenting' or choking so i'm sorry! But I hope you enjoyed anyway!!
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fuckmycrane · 6 months
Text
Moon — Thomas Shelby.
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— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)
— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.
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Vulnerability. 
It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of. 
It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him. 
And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.
Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.
Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.
He wishes he could steal you. 
He knows how much he loves you.
It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.
He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body. 
In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you. 
Home. Home. Home.
“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.
He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice. 
Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.
“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you. 
“How is everyone?” 
“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”
“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”
“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”
With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”
And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.
“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”
That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands. 
His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife. 
Such an angel sent from heaven.
“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”
His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”
“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”
Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”
You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”
The loyalty he so loves. 
His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor. 
“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view. 
“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you. 
But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.
He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…
Love you.
With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has.  Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning. 
Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave. 
“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear. 
“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.
It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling. 
A warm, fuzzy feeling.
He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end. 
Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.
And he swears it to the moon.
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mypoisonedvine · 6 months
Note
Here's an idea: Tommy's first night with his girlfriend/wife after returning from the war. It's been a while since they touched each other, so I assume there would be a lot of lust?
omg this sounds intense but sweet as well!! I love this idea
warnings: SMUT!! (18+ only), possessiveness/housewife kink, breeding kink
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He hardly said a word to you. You weren't really sure what you expected him to say, anyway-- but he just grabbed you and kissed you, hard. In a way, that said more than words ever could.
"Thought about you every goddamn day," he breathed against your skin, speaking just softly enough that the lowest bass of his voice seemed to reverberate through your body. "Thought about you just to get through it. Thought about holding you, touching you... tasting you..."
You gave into him instantly, of course... you had no energy or desire to deny him. And of course, like a good wife, you never did.
His hands roamed all over you, making you hum against his lips as he pulled you closer by a handful of your ass. Just as his kiss became more aggressive and desperate than ever, it suddenly moved down to your neck where his teeth teasingly grazed your pulse.
He tilted your head how he wanted it and kissed you again, even more desperately.
He picked up where he left off when his lips broke away from yours, but the kiss had honestly made you forget what he'd been saying before. "Thought about my girl, waiting for me at home," he continued. "Waited for me, didn't you? Never let anybody else touch you?"
"T-Tommy, of course," you rushed to reply, "god, I missed you more than anything-- I only ever thought of you."
He hummed contentedly, petting your face with the back of his fingers. "Of course you did, sweet thing. You're my girl-- so good to me. All mine."
"Yours, Tommy," you promised, thighs pushing together harder when his hand moved down to your neck-- holding it, but not quite tightening his grip... just reminding you that he could.
He hummed again, this time more a sound of agreement, and latched his lips onto your shoulder, biting you slightly as he kissed you there. You whimpered but let him go on, purring as his hands roamed your body.
Suddenly and forcefully, he shoved you down onto the bed; you didn't resist, of course, wrapping your arms and legs around him as he laid over you.
"My girl," he growled again, his hand running up your body to wrap around your neck. "Who do you belong to, love?"
"You, Tommy-- of course, I'm yours," you whined.
He purred, flaring his nostrils for a moment, and nodded approvingly. "Say that again," he ordered, using his free hand to roughly open his trousers, "when I put a baby inside you."
You whimpered and eagerly nodded.
"Been waiting too damn long to breed you, love-- when I'm done, you'll be so full with my seed that it'll have to take," he promised. "And god, how perfect you're gonna be. My perfect little wife."
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darkshelbyfiction · 6 months
Text
forced to serve (p.1)
Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Smut, Forced Prostitution, Dub-Con, Butt Stuff, Ass to Mouth
Written for and with my sexy wife @queenshelby, luv you bae
Summary: Your husband forces you into prostitution and your client is Thomas Shelby 👌
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After you were told to prepare for your first client that evening, you found yourself nervous about what would come. This wasn't how you wanted things to turn out - not by a long shot! It was your very own husband who forced you into prostitution and desperate times called for desperate measures, right? You somehow had to feed your young child.
Dressed in your most provocative attire, your heart raced when you heard someone approaching your door – it was him. Tommy Shelby. A man whose reputation preceded him. From stories whispered around town, he always demanded something different and intense from those he interacted with. He enjoyed intercourse that was rough and forceful and demanded complete submission from those who served him.
He paid well and he was informed by the madam of the house that you would be obedient and allow him to penetrate you in whatever way he wished, for at least two hours.  
It was all part of the deal you had made before entering this world where men like Tommy Shelby roamed free, dictating others' lives, desires, destinies.
The moment he entered the room, he immediately began taking off his shirt, exposing himself without shame or embarrassment. His muscular body gleaming under dim lights only intensified the raw power emanating from him. There was no mistaking whose presence filled the room now.
"Get on your hands and knees and crawl over here, my pet!" Tommy commanded without bothering to formally introduce himself.
"You want me to crawl towards you, on the floor?" you asked hesitantly, unsure whether you really understood his request correctly.
"Yes, Love," he barked back at you impatiently. "And don't ask questions. Just do it."
Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through your veins, heightening your senses. As you scrambled across the floor, getting closer to his towering frame, a strange mix of fear engulfed you.
"Good pet", he growled softly, taking notice of your compliance. Then, gripping your wrist tightly, he pulled you up onto your feet and led you towards the bed, commanding you once again to get on your knees, facing away from him.
Without waiting for your response, he spanked your bottom harshly, sending a shockwave of pain throughout your entire body. As tears welled up in your eyes, you felt a sudden surge of anger rise within you.
"Your safe word is red. Use it when you can't take it anymore and I will stop," Tommy spoke, his voice hoarse with lust. "I am not going to be gentle. In fact, I am going to hurt you, but this is what I am fucking paying you for, eh?"
As he roughly grabbed your hips, lifting you off the ground and positioning you into a standing doggystyle, you couldn't help but feel utterly overwhelmed by his brute strength. With one hand firmly grasping your waist, he used the other to pull your skirt higher, baring your bare behind for him to see. 
Your stomach twisted with nerves as he swiftly removed his trousers, releasing his enormous erection from its confines. It stood tall and proud, almost taunting you. 
Tommy reached forward and, without warning, he pushed your head down onto the mattress. "Open your legs wide and stick out your ass, sweetheart," he ordered.
Reluctantly, you did as instructed, feeling humiliated and afraid of what might happen next. Toying with your tender flesh, he slapped your ass repeatedly until it stung fiercely. He then took hold of your waist once more, pulling you further into the position he desired. Your face flushed crimson with anger and shame, yet your resolve remained unbroken. If anything, these brutish acts fueled your determination to endure. Tommy leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps along your neck.
"Don't worry, love," he whispered huskily, "This won't last forever." He punctuated his words with a sharp slap to your ass cheek, eliciting a whimper from you despite your best efforts to suppress it.
"Now tell me how badly you need my cock inside your cunt, little bird," he said in a low, threatening tone.
"Please, sir..." you murmured, trying hard to maintain composure. "Just please make sure it doesn't hurt too much…"
At this point, his expression changed, morphing into pure malevolence. He knew just how far he could push you without crossing the line marked 'red'.
"That's my good pet, eh" he snarled approvingly, rubbing his cock against your still dry entrance. 
Realising that you were not ready yet, he removed his cock temporally and spat some saliva onto his fingers and pressed them against your moistening hole, massaging and stretching it slowly while occasionally glancing at you with a look of hunger. You clenched your teeth together, fighting back the urge to cry out from the burning sensation spreading through your insides.
Finally, he stopped and held his manhood upright, his gaze fixated upon yours. "Are you ready, love?" he questioned with anticipation evident in his voice. You nodded mutely, unable to find the courage to speak aloud.
Unable to bear the intensity of the pressure building inside you, you finally gave consent, letting out a soft whimper that seemed to excite him even more. Grabbing you tighter by the waist, he thrust violently into you, causing you to gasp involuntarily.
Despite the initial discomfort, the familiarity of the rhythm gradually allowed you to become accustomed to his size. However, you struggled to regulate your breathing, hyperventilating as you tried to keep pace with the increasing speed of his movements.
Clutching the sheets tightly, you winced every time he drove deeper into you, the pain shooting through your loins growing stronger with each thrust.
Tommy loved watching his partner squirm beneath him, submitting to his every desire. 
"Isn't this what you wanted?" he taunted, pounding into you relentlessly.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as the intensity continued to increase, leaving trails of salty residues on your skin. Each stroke felt like an invasion, deepening the connection he sought.
You bit your lip, determined not to let your cries escape. Instead, you focused on counting the number of strokes, trying to block out the searing pain with numbers. Your throat became parched as sweat trickled down your forehead, making it difficult to swallow.
"You are married aren't you?" Tommy suddenly interrupted your internal struggle, his heavy breath echoing in the silence of the room.
"What makes you think that?" you managed to choke out, trying to hide your feelings behind innocuous indifference.
"The ring on your finger gave it away," he replied smugly, continuing his thrusts, groaning loudly.
"Y-yes, sir. I am married" you mumbled weakly, your whole body trembling slightly from the assault.
He paused briefly, admiring your vulnerability before continuing mercilessly.
"Tell me Love, does your husband fuck you like this?" he crooned, driving his hips harder into you.
You cried out involuntarily, overcome by the intensity of his movement. Your legs quivered with fatigue, your arms shook as they supported your weight precariously on all fours.
"Answer me, love," he growled, pushing deeper inside you, his member pulsing against your wall, filling you completely. Your throat burned with the effort of holding back your cries.
"No," you whispered hoarsely, causing Tommy to smile maliciously as, unexpectedly, he started to probe your anal opening with his finger while continuing to thrust into your sore pussy, 
"Does your husband ever touch you here?" He breathed heavily into your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin.
You closed your eyes, struggling with the urge to both answer him honestly and to deny him altogether. 
"Answer me, love," he repeated forcefully, pushing his index finger into your anus with such precision and ease that it surprised you greatly. You cried out in astonishment at the sudden intrusion.
"No," you answered eventually while crying out loudly. 
His laughter resonated around the room, causing goosebumps to prickle your skin. "So, has anyone fucked your ass yet? Tell me, sweet thing."
You cringed internally, mortified that he would ask something so personal, but knowing it was part of the game, you mustered enough courage to respond truthfully.
"N-no," you stammered quietly, the word nearly escaping your lips before you could catch yourself.
"Well, we'll rectify that today, shall we?" He purred menacingly, slipping two fingers into your wet, gaping anus, stretching and teasing you slowly. 
Your muscles contracted involuntarily in response to his fingers penetrating your rectum, making you writhe underneath him. Your mouth opened slightly in surprise, emitting silent gasps.
"Good pet," he whispered, withdrawing his fingers slowly and methodically from your anus. 
"I think your ass is ready for my cock now," mockingly, reaching for the bedside table and retrieving some Vaseline. 
Fearful and hesitant, you lowered your head submissively. He ignored your reluctance and quickly covered his cock in the creamy substance. 
Without waiting for your permission, he positioned himself over you again, guiding his engorged tool toward your aching anus. His grip on your hips was ironclad, refusing to allow you to escape or resist his assault. You writhed helplessly underneath him, struggling to accept the impending invasion. Despite your protests, your body refused to comply, betraying your resistance as he slowly inserted his length into your rear passage.
"Remember your safe word love," he whispered softly into your ear. You bit your tongue, willing yourself to remain strong.
As his full girth filled you up, he began moving within you, his powerful hips bucking against your own, his hands pressing harshly against your shoulders, pinning you in place.
The world around you blurred, and the only sound you heard was your labored breathing combined with his savage grunts of pleasure. Your tears flowed freely down your cheeks, unnoticed by either party involved in this perverse act.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Having my thick cock in your smallest hole? I can feel how much it aches you when I slide in and out," Tommy gloated cruelly, his breath ragged and heavy against your shoulder. His cock throbbed steadily inside you, reminding you of his sheer power over you. It felt like he had no regard for your limits, your needs – he simply possessed you, taking whatever he wished, whenever he chose.
"Tell me, do you like feeling my massive rod buried deep inside your bowels?" He asked playfully, his voice carrying a sinister undertone that made your stomach turn.
Swallowing nervously, you managed to gather enough strength to utter a faint yes. It wasn't a complete fabrication though, as you did enjoy feeling full. This admission served as further encouragement for him, prompting him to continue his brutal attack.
With each new entry, his pace increased incrementally until you found yourself lost in a haze of desperation, pain, and arousal. Your walls seemed to close in on themselves, creating a claustrophobic environment where you could neither scream nor beg for release.
In this moment, Tommy realized that he was approaching his peak - the culmination of his dominance and control over you. Increasing his tempo exponentially, he used his considerable strength to propel himself deeply within you once more, ignoring your frantic attempts to pull away.
His hardened pelvis rubbed against your tender entrance, forcing you to succumb to the waves of pleasure coursing through your body despite your best efforts to maintain distance.
Every thrust reverberated throughout your entire frame, sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your system, making it impossible to hold back your orgasm. As you approached climax, Tommy increased his vigor, grasping your hips firmly, rocking your body against his rhythmic pace.
With every thrust, your moans grew louder, feeding off one another. Tommy couldn't help but be proud of his mastery, reveling in your submission. You were a delicious treat he didn't want to end too soon. Your breath quickened, and your nipples hardened under his gaze. As your excitement reached its peak, the walls around you disappeared, replaced by the intense heat of passion. The sensation of his hand cupping your breast brought forth a surge of electric energy, heightening your already spiraling awareness.
The rhythm of his thrusts intensified, mirroring the rapid beat of your heart. With each motion, you could sense the pressure building within, threatening to erupt and consume you entirely.
Your nails scratched furiously at the sheets, seeking some kind of anchor amidst the storm of emotion and physical stimulation consuming you. The taste of salt lingering on your lips only added fuel to the fire, and you found yourself begging for him to take you even further.
"Please, please don't stop!" you pleaded. Tommy laughed triumphantly, a devilish glint dancing in his eyes.
"Do you truly wish for me to push beyond your limit, my little pet?" He taunted, grazing his teeth along your neck, sending shivers racing across your flesh. Unable to suppress your desire any longer, you nodded fervently, meeting his challenge eagerly.
"Then open your mouth wide, my dear," he instructed, loosening his grip just enough to grant you a brief reprieve as he pulled his cock from your ass and pushed you onto the floor.
"You are going to swallow my cum without spilling a drop," he commanded sternly, towering over you.
Feeling violated and humiliated, you dropped obediently to your knees and took his rigid erection into your hungry mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you performed this degrading task, your pride battered and bruised beneath his feet.
Despite the overwhelming shame and embarrassment, you tried your utmost to satisfy him, hoping to regain even the slightest fragment of dignity that remained intact.
His manhood twitched visibly in response to your efforts, provoking him to grab your hair roughly, pulling your head closer to his groin.
"Keep it up, open your throat," he threatened gruffly, reaffirming his absolute control over you. Panicked, you obeyed without question, not wanting to anger him further. Every caress of his fingers through your strands sent shudders of fear down your spine, yet you continued to service him dutifully.
His member grew heavier in your mouth, swelling impossibly larger still as you worked harder to accommodate its size. You fought the urge to gag, concentrating solely on staying true to your promise to him. The struggle became evident in your reddened eyes and quivering jawline. Desperate to avoid his wrath, you tightened your grip on his length, sucking harder, and increasing the intensity of your movements.
Tommy let out a low growl of satisfaction, pleased with your performance.
"Here it comes, love. Feast upon my essence, my precious pet," he said, allowing his seminal fluid to pour forcefully into your awaiting mouth. The salty liquid flooded your palate, filling your mouth completely. The bitter flavor caused your lips to pucker. Still, you valiantly kept your mouth closed, determined not to defile his command.
Still holding your hair tightly, he allowed you to come up from your knees, bringing you into a standing position.
"Open and show me your tongue, I want to make sure you swallowed it all." Obeying, you extended your tongue to meet his inspection.
"Very good, my pet. Now get back on to your knees and clean off my cock properly," Tommy ordered coldly, releasing his grip on your hair. Observing his reaction, you hurriedly knelt before him, carefully opening your mouth to receive his cock once more. His phallus emerged from your mouth, wet and sticky, leaving behind traces of his seed.
"Lick it clean, come on!" he demanded brusquely, eyeing you critically. You complied immediately, not wanting to upset him anymore today. Swirling your tongue around the sensitive tip, you meticulously cleansed it, paying special attention to any lingering residues.
"That will do," he conceded finally, stepping away from you. Exhausted, you sank down onto the floor, feeling a wave of relief wash over you as the events gradually subsided.
Looking up, you noticed Tommy surveying you with a mixture of admiration and contempt.
Clearly satisfied with your obedience, he smirked, wiping the remaining evidence of his domination from your lips with a smile.
"You did well tonight, pet," he admitted grudgingly, turning to leave. "And I cannot believe that your husband would share someone as divine as you are, sweetheart. I certainly would not share you with other men if you belonged to me, which makes me wonder what sort of man he is..." Tommy leered at you suggestively, his tone oozing confidence and superiority. You flinched involuntarily, unsure whether to feel insulted or intrigued by his brazen assessment. Feeling emboldened by his apparent interest, you sought to learn more about the enigmatic Mr. Shelby. "My husband... He is quite peculiar, sir," you hesitated, casting your eyes downward thoughtfully, without telling him that he was forcing you to do this for money. 
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 6 months
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boo! surprise bitches! i'm doing kinktober this year! finally doing it! bet you didn't see that one coming, did you hehe 🕸
there is a good mix of both short and long stories coming your way throughout this (and i will also still occasionally post other fics this month that aren't related to this). also, a handful of these fics are darker in nature, thought it was fitting for halloween, so remember to read the warnings, if there's something that's not for you then please, as always, be kind to yourself and don't read the story.
masterlist | join my taglist
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day one | sore
stepbro!sirius black x cheerleader!reader + dubcon massage
day two | don't smile
steve rogers + throat fucking + size kink
day three | stuffed
devil!eddie munson & angel!steve harrington + tentecles + double penetration in one hole
day four | a little fashion show
best friend!stiles stilinski + lingerie
day five | stay still
peter parker + bondage
day six | hold up, let me record this
jj maybank + tittyfucking + sextape
day seven | the palace guards
guards!poly!marauders x princess!reader + secrets relationship
day eight | it’s practically like we’re down there with them
mob boss!bucky barnes + exhibitionism
day nine | keep that pretty mouth shut
tommy shelby + keep quiet quickie
day ten | I couldn’t find it in me to wake you
poe dameron + somno thigh fucking
day eleven | I just want you a little longer all to myself
matt murdock + secret office sex
day twelve | nothing more than a toy
rafe cameron + using you like a toy to masturbate with
day thirteen | I still got a few rounds left in me
boxer!steve rogers + bathtub sex
day fourteen | open your fucking mouth
dark!wild west cowboy!joel miller + gun kink
day fifteen | tiny
miguel o'hara x fairy!reader + extreme size difference
day sixteen | the wall between us
cult member!steve harrington + fem glory hole + breeding
day seventeen | be a rebel, be bad, stay here and cuddle with me
spencer reid + aftercare
day eighteen | pleasant pile of pillows
brother's best friend!james potter + pillow humping
day nineteen | ring ring
sam winchester x reader x bf!dean winchester + phone sex + cheating
day twenty | window
perv!neighbour!billy russo + voyeurism
day twenty-one | say yes
fiancé!bruce wayne + possessiveness
day twenty-two | i can think of something better than that
bucky barnes + anal
day twenty-three | double check
dark!professor!ben solo + power imbalance + manipulation
day twenty-four | maroon
vampire!remus lupin + biting + blood kink
day twenty-five | i want you
pirate captain!miguel o'hara + sex as payment
day twenty-six | teamwork
pro football team!avengers (bf!steve rogers, bucky barnes, pietro maximoff, clint barton, sam wilson, tony stark, thor odinson) + gangbang
day twenty-seven | my little flower
din djarin + fantasy au + cockwarming
day twenty-eight | hysteria
doctor!aleksander morozova x hysteria patient!reader + historical au + fuck machine
day twenty-nine | can't fight the moonlight
werewolf!bucky barnes x gf!reader + predator/prey + monsterfucking
day thirty | magical mimic
eddie munson x witch!reader + magical mutual masturbation
day thirty-one | you can’t put it in
stepbro!peter parker + halloween pussyjob
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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your-nanas-house · 2 months
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more dark!tommy smut!!!! 🥹❤️🙏
Yup! Wasn't so sure if you wanted the same trope as the previous fics I wrote so I tried something else. 🥰
His fookin' wife
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◇ Pairing: Dark!Tommy Shelby X wife!reader
◇ Warnings: heavy DUBCON, angst, Tommy being mean and a man of that period, MISOGYNY, arranged marriage, curses and violence, age gap (both off age).
◇ Summary: Tommy reminds his wife of her place.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Honestly... I hate the way I'm writing so I will apologise for my writing as well. Hope you enjoy 🙇🏼‍♀️.
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All his thoughts came to an end as soon as she almost reached the front door.
His big calloused hands moved on their own grabbing quickly but firmly her waist from behind, so to pull her body back and grip her thighs tighly.
A deep inhale followed his actions, making the younger woman shiver as his warm breath brushed teasingly the shell of her ear.
Different emotions kept swirling inside of Tommy, his breath became heavier as his low and seductive voice interrupted the silence in the entrance to their house. Their... since it was hers as well, as soon as he put a ring around her finger three years ago, because of an arranged marriage.
The man could feel his wife's body tensing at his touch, but it just sent a shiver down his spine. His primal instincts kicking in fast, getting into him like a bullet.
"W-What are you doing?" Y/n's weak and panicked voice asked in a whisper, making a small smirk appear on his handsome face. His tongue dared out to wet his lips before he could place them on her neck, feeling her quick pulse against them.
"What do you think I'm doing?" He purred out, inhaling her scent before continuing to speak... his voice way lower and predatory than before. "I'm not going to let you leave the house until I'm finished with you, love—"
" —Or would you rather just leave and go and talk to those Italian lads again?" He mocked, anger and jealousy clear in his tone while his grip tightened at the mere movement of hers... causing the young woman to get even more scared of what was happening.
The prospect of being intimate with her arranged husband sounded... weird to her; he never acted like that with her, just once when he was drunk. Besides that night, their honeymoon of years before had been pretty much cold and calculated, he simply prepared her before stealing her virginity with a harsh thrust and little conversation.
No love or emotions besides lust present in that moment of their life.
The panic and fear made her try to escape his grip, just wanting to leave the house already to mind her own business and not discover this more carnal side of her man. A bad idea since Tommy reacted quickly, now holding her closer against his chest, his hips pressing harder against the soft curves of her covered ass while his cock reacted positively at the situation.
"Oh no, you're not getting away that easily... There's no escaping me, darling. I'm going to keep you right here with me so there's no point in trying to free yourself." His low and threatening voice informed her before continuing after a soft growl caused by the wiggling of her body.
"I'm not going to let you leave unless I say so, and I'm going to keep you here all for myself, as your husband.... as your man."
It has been too long since he had been with his Y/n like that, and the fact that she was fighting him caused him to crave her even more. Her teasing and panicked movements were driving him crazy with lust, the way her curves kept pressing back against his front... brushing his now rock-hard cock just made the blue eyed man want to slam her against the nearest surface and take her like he was craving since a while.
Y/n was sweating cold, her heart beating crazily as her mind raced with lots of different thoughts... her body jolted again at his touch and he pressed her harshly against the cold front door of their house.
A breathy groan left the dark haired man's body as he pinned her against the wood, his hips now grinding against her ass... as his left hand held tightly her wrists together so that his free one could raise up the fabric of the dress she was wearing.
"Fucking hell, luv" Tommy cursed at the view of her exposed lower half, his hand colliding with her right ass cheek, making her whimper at the stingy sensation and whine when he knealed harshly her reddening skin.
"Missed your damn body" he added with a breathless growl, position his bulge between her legs as he pulled roughly her underwear up and leave place to his boner to rub on her butt, nudging her sacrum with each movement.
Y/n's body kept hitting softly the door as Tommy made her move with his tempo, his breath getting heavier and faster just like his thrusts.
His free hand, which had reached for her chest without success, moved now down her spine till his fingers could start to undo his belt and pants... sending a shock of fear in the young woman's body.
At the sound of the belt hitting the floor, her eyes widen and her feet moved on its own, stepping on Tommy's and catching him off guard for a couple of seconds. Allowing her to try to run away, heading quickly upstairs as he just watched her with a predatory smirk on his face... his hand picking up the belt from the ground before he rushed behind her.
"It's useless, I told you already... such a-fiesty-little-wife" Tommy spat with gritted teeth as his hand grabbed a firm hold on her ankle before pulling and making her fall down the stairs so that his body could be pin hers easily.
His broad chest now pressing against her small back as his hand pulled her hair so that her face was tilted towards him
"Don't you wanna be a good wife for your husband, luv?" The older man purred against her jaw, leaving wet kisses as his other hand traveled between her breasts to undo her dress and let easier access to her chest.
"I think we need to revise your duties as a wife and... as a woman.... my woman" Tommy spat out, before pressing her head against the moquette of the stairs, unbothered by the discomfort he was causing her by holding the soft skin of her cheek against that material.
His hold on her hair got tighter as his other hand traveled down, between her legs... moving skillfully aside her panties before thrusting one finger in while he circled roughly her clit.
His eyes closed and he groaned softly at the small thrusts of her hips cause by the jolts of pleasure he was giving her. All rubbing against his aching cock so well.
As Thomas opened his mouth again his tone was more dominating and demanding even if it was breathless
"Just like that... fuck" he cursed softly, opening his pants quickly to pull out his lenght and start grinding roughly against her lower back... his fingers still working their magic.
Y/n's whimpers and muffled cries didn't stopped his monologue after he started it. Telling her what she should have known already... how it was her duty as a wife to stay home, to keep the house in order for her husband. To listen to her husband and to be faithful to him. To support him in his business and to satisfy his needs whenever he wanted... since he was her husband.
Each point of the list was followed by a thrust of his hips and a soft groans of pleasure.
"You need to keep the home clean, to cook meals, and being faithful to your husband... you fookin'— need to look presentable and appealing at all times, making sure to be feminine and seductive for your husband whenever he wants it. Fookin' need to make sure the children are always kept up and taken care of, and you need to take— care of your husband's emotional needs as well" he continued, his groans interrupting his monologue a couple of time as he slowly approached his peak.
His cremaster muscle contracted and his jaw clenched as a soft hiss escaped his lips... his grip tightened around her hip and on her hair, making her scalp burn. Till a couple of thrusts later when he came with a low groan of her name... his cum landing on her precious dress and bare ass.
Y/n's body kept trembling due to the pleasure and the little act he was playing, teasing her cunt since he started to speak to make her desperate and needy for him.
"Understood, love?" Tommy's sweet tone, boomed in her empty head as tears kept wetting her cheeks. A soft yelp escaping her mouth when his hand slapped her pussy, hitting her clit harshly to make her squirt on him and the fabric of the moquette.
The young woman was breathing heavily, a soft sob interrupted the silence followed by a playful slap on her cheek as she kept nodding at what he asked her.
"That's a good woman, eh" Thomas hummed in a mocking tone, before getting carefully up... his icy stare remaining on her as he pumped his softening cock a couple of times
"Now up, on your feet" his business voice kicked in, more authoritarian and dominant than before. His heart was beating fast and his lust was growing even more as the time passed.
Y/n did as he said, forcing herself up on trembling legs; the shock of intense pleasure still making her head feel light and relaxed but exhausted.
As the soft, low voice of her husband smoothed her... his tender praises working as soft caresses after a harsh slap.
"That's a good little wife" he hummed out again, leading her to their bedroom as his lips kept brushing against the side of her bare neck.
"Get undressed for your husband, love" Tommy demanded, stroking her hip as he took care of his own clothes. His eyes never leaving her body as she did what he asked her, looking at him still scared but eager to feel such a surprising sensation again.
The older man's big hands pushed her softly down on the bed by the shoulders, before letting them travel softly up to her face... cupping her cheeks to make her look directly in his eyes "That's way better, isn't it, love?" He asked in a whisper, leaning down to kiss her and let her desire win over her negative thoughts.
A deep sigh left her mouth as a ticklish sensation formed on her skin while Tommy's hand traveled and explored it just like his lips. Resting tenderly against her sternum to place a hard kiss on it... a kiss that started the path of more kisses around her chest and ended with his lips wrapped around her erect nipple.
His calloused hands spread carefully his wife's bare legs, allowing him to move between them with ease while his warm tongue swirled and his lips sucked sensually, moving away with a soft pop.
"Been dying to feel your pretty warm mouth around my cock, honey" he murmured softly, brushing his nose against her jugular up to her face
"Or to feel your hands... breasts.... ass... squeezing me till I'm satisfied—" he continued, stopping just to let a throaty groan leave his body as his tip got squeezed by Y/n's cunt.
Her eyes closed quickly at the feeling of his thick lenght forcing itself inside of her tight pussy... causing a burning sensation that was eased down by the quick movements of Tommy's fingers on her clit
"Fuckk... darlin', if you keep squeezing me like this it won't last long" he murmured through a hiss, snapping his hips forward so that his cock was now fully swallowed by her pussy which held him like a vice.
Her juices started to wet his thighs shamefully as he pressed himself as close as possible to feel the bulge caused by his cock in her lower belly.
"You fookin' loving it, eh?" Tommy asked teasingly, sloppy kissing her lips as she tried to say 'yes' after a choked moan.
And it was true, she was loving it... her body was loving it.
When her husband started to move inside of her, she felt tears gathering in her eyes at the contrast of his firm and quick but still sensual thrusts and his tender, loving kisses.
It was different from the quick fuck on the stairs or the cold sex they had during the honeymoon, he wanted to show her and make her take the right choice... either be fucked like a useless whore or like his wife.
The message was clear and his demeanour was really fucking with her mind just like his body was doing to hers.
She was his wife... his wife.
He kept repeating it as he slowly reached his peak again, his firm but loving grip forced her to look him in the eyes as her back arched and a silent moan left her body. Her toes curled against the cold sheet of their bed, making her realize how warm her body actually was at that moment.
"Fookin' hell, cream around my cock, love" Tommy ordered, lost in pleasure... snapping his hips forward a couple of times before going for a deeper one and stop right there.
His sharp jaw dropping as a moan left his mouth, his seed shot inside of her cunt as curses and praises joined the moment. She could feel it and she was sure that it would have caused consequences as well as a drastic change in their life.
Y/n Shelby... was Tommy's wife.
Only his, his damn property and.. woman. Not anyone else's and he had just proved his point.
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