#John Murphy/reader
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nofingjustaninchident · 6 months ago
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older men do it better
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vervainandspritz · 8 months ago
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JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES
Thomas Shelby x Reader
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Request made by @justsumtuffstuff: Could you do a tommy shelby imagine where you secretly have his kid but don’t tell him until one day aunt polly sees you and is like “holy shit” but that’s not the surprise, the surprise is you have twins. Just a lot of angst and fluff pretty please? ((:
This fic will have two parts!
Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut
A/N: It's a.. heavy fic, so beware. Interact for more
PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE
~~
The land of Birmingham seemed to never change, not one bit. Ever since the first people settled there, the sky hung over them as if by force, never clear enough to see prospects for the future. Robbing the poor kids of dreams, of the loud thumping in their hearts caused by excitement for the good that never came.
It would seem that God has lost his way to Birmingham, not to mention Small Heath. Dirt, smoke and silence that rang too loud when working men would finish their shifts in factories seeking peace in their homes. After all, the human brain can get used to everything.
What was the difference between going to sleep hungry every night, and the relentless churning in the depths of her stomach that Y/N felt? Pain that never let go, waking up along her side like a loyal husband, never ceasing to accompany her throughout the day. Never loosening the hold on her heart.
Oh, how cruel the fate can be, Y/N thought, looking at the white ceiling of her bedroom. One she slept in for many nights too long, carrying the weight of the curse on her shoulders.
Because she was cursed, that one she was sure. Seeing the man she loved more than anything else in the world, losing himself in the grief after another woman.
Because that was the woman whose name Y/N dared not speak or even think. That's who she was, another woman. Embodiment of pain and betrayal of so many promises, taking away the beautiful, blue gaze Y/N yearned for so badly.
God must have been so cruel, putting her through the uncertainty of ever seeing him again throughout the war, and then taking him away.
Taking him away from Y/N, and letting her watch the process. Letting her see the distance growing, the dilated pupils in his eyes after each doze of opium, fruitlessly trying to numb the pain he carried.
Y/N couldn't help but wake up everyday, wondering how different his grief would be if it was her who died. Would he cry? Would he push the other woman away, like he did her? Sometimes the pain felt like too much to handle, but Y/N would never try to pull the trigger. Subconsciously feeling the weight of shame in her chest if she'd ever somehow found out she was right. That he wouldn't care.
So she lived, losing pieces of her heart day by day, warming his bed whenever he saw it convenient.
Until that one day came, that was. Hearing the... Scary, oh so scary news from her doctor she visited in secret. Putting both of her hands on her still flat stomach, she didn't feel anything physically. Yet it was enough to find the strength, buried so deep in her heart.
The love she felt for her unborn children outweighed the love for him.
The tension in Arrow house felt heavier than usual, as Y/N dragged her heavy suitcase down the stairs before slowly making her way to his office. The pain, longing in her heart slowing her down, extending the seconds into forever.
Y/N took a deep breath as her hand pressed down on the metal handle, the loud click echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Wordlessly she slipped inside, walking up to his desk quietly, letting out a shaky breath when she stopped mere inches away from the wooden furniture. His eyes didn't move from the documents he was reading, an empty gaze fixed on black letters despite knowing she was there. Y/N waited for a second, giving him a chance to look at her. Hoping he would.
But he didn't.
”I'm leaving” she said, loud enough to be heard. Silence followed her words, loud like never before as her heart squeezed in anticipation, silently begging him to stop her. To say something. Several moments passed before he finally did, making her heart stop for a mere second.
”Safe travels, Y/N Y/L/N” He responded in a cold, husky voice and for a moment, Y/N wondered who he was, wearing his face but sounding so different.
But the dust settled, just like the weight of his words as soon as she closed the door behind her back for what she thought would be the last time.
~~
Polly's eyes cut through his skin like a blade, her gaze never changing after that one feral day. The look of contempt and disgrace not even a bit different than one she gave him finding out what happened, back then.
”I was hoping you wouldn't be so stupid” She hissed, leaning forward, reaching for a cigarette with a shaky hand. Her eyes were teary, as she inhaled the smoke. ”When you were younger I saw your mother in your eyes. Now, they're full of greed and foolishness. Just like your father's” She spat out with contempt, raising from the chair. Quickly walking up to his own, she kneeled down for a moment, to meet his gaze.
One so empty, that gave her goosebumps.
”I will never forgive you, and... Neither will you.” She whispered. ”But you will have to live with the choice you made.”
Her words echoed loudly in his head several minutes after Polly left... And they never stopped ringing now, thirty eight months later. Thomas counted, every morning to be sure. After sobering up it was difficult to tell days apart. He rarely slept, fearful of the dreams he had at first.
He saw her, she was so close and yet no matter how fast Tommy ran, he couldn't reach her. Out of his reach no matter how hard he screamed or cried. Looking at him with the burning tears he caused.
It took him three months to sober up, give up on opium and... Feel. Thomas wasn't ready for the hellish pain that dawned on him once the drug wore off. The terrifying longing that dawned on him when he felt the remnants of her perfume on his pillow. The lack of relief he hoped for so badly, throwing away every single Grace's belonging he held onto previously, burning the photos and destroying the items, but it never came.
As time stretched, it became more intense. Thomas carried the pain and guilt wherever he went, finding the smallest bit of relief only in his office, searching for Y/N in every piece of England day by day.
Replaying the ways in which he treated her, internally setting himself on fire and forcing himself to feel every bit of it. Because that's what he deserved, to feel and carry the cross he created with his own hands.
Oh how beautiful the pain was, as he'd lean back in his armchair, closing his eyes and remembering her gaze. Her scent and her laugh, echoing so lively in his mind.
...but none of it worked, no matter how many people searched. How much money he spent on the search. Almost like she disappeared into thin air.
Day by day he was dying a little, bleeding through the wounds he so desperately prevented from healing every single time. Keeping the memory of her alive in his mind, not letting the hope die. Because it was all he had. Glimmer of hope. The leader of Peaky blinders became even worse than before. The pain shaped his mind in unknown ways, as the limitless cruelty became visible to anyone who dared to cross his path. Peaky Blinders were unmatched.
Nobody besides Thomas held onto the hope anymore. Knowing Y/N for so long, John and Artur knew she wouldn't come back. Not if her life depended on it. Polly only prayed for her safety.
...and Y/N? She stopped praying once her children were born. After finding out she'd have twins, she prayed every night for them to be born healthy. It was all that mattered.
Not the fact that she had to be using a fake name after moving to Coventry, mere miles away from Birmingham. But she couldn't afford to move further.
It's been.. so fucking hard. Everything. Y/N spent every night crying, begging any God that would listen to take away the pain in her heart. The pain that her babies only managed to lessen. Working as a waitress on nightshifts after accepting the kindness of her older neighbour. Mrs Wilson offered to take care of her boys while she works to help her make ends meet. Y/N had no idea what she would do without a woman she grew to call her only family.
”It's no problem, honey. They're little angels” She said quietly with a kind smile, taking one of the boys into her arms mere days after they were born.
The pain Y/N felt by having to leave her kids every night was stronger than the physical one. Having to work a demanding job after giving birth to keep the roof over their heads.
She cried, cried so much that eventually tears ran out and all she could do was.. keep trying. The two little people by her side were giving her strength. Light that she couldn't see before them, and only existed because they were here. Keeping her own heart beating.
***
”Are you sure? I can take care of them while you go, honey. You know how much I love them, don't you?” The older lady offered eagerly, caressing Nick's cheek with a smile, and a hint of concern while she glanced at Y/N.
”Thank you, but I will take them. The least I can do is spend time with them throughout the day.” Y/N responded, smiling sadly to her neighbour who just nodded along, understanding the allusion.
Letting out a sigh, she put her hands together.
”Be careful, dear.”
Y/N squeezed her hand lightly before pulling away as she held her son's hand, while carrying the other one on her hip.
”Always”
Travelling via train took no longer than forty minutes, and with each passing mile, Y/N's anxiety grew. She hasn't been in Birmingham for a long time now, not looking back.
Yet, because of her official address being still in the Arrow house, she needed to visit the office to complete documentation for boys. She put it off as long as she could, but it was inevitable now.
Despite the negative emotions, Y/N couldn't felt.. better, having her babies with her. The familiar facial expressions or blue orbs were enough to sometimes bring her to tears, but she couldn't love them more. They were a perfect little copy of the man whose name was engraved on her heart. The older they were, the more similar looking they were and now at dashing two and a half years, both boys were troublemakers.
Slowly making their way through Birmingham, Y/N held one little hand, chatting away with Nick, who was more energised than his brother who slept soundly in his mum's arms.
”...and dat?” He asked, pointing towards the building and glancing curiously at his mama. Y/N smiled at his curiosity, seeing how similar personality wise he was to her.
”that's a house” She replied calmly. The little boy cheered loudly, throwing his arms in the air.
"Yaay! Hooose!” He squealed making her chuckle, not caring about the scolding glances from other passengers.
A couple minutes later the other little one woke up, and started fussing because obviously he also wanted to walk now, while Nick wanted to be carried now. Sighing, Y/N put one of the kids down, and as she managed to pick up little Nick, she gasped loudly seeing her son's legs already in motion as he ran towards the crowd.
”Tommy! Thomas, stop!” She yelled after him, chasing him with Nick on her hip who watched the whole thing with his blue eyes wide open. ”Tommy!” She yelled once again, and he finally turned around, stumbling upon someone.
Y/N closed the distance as fast as she could, grabbing little Tommy and pulling him back to his feet, as she checked for any bruises – found none.
”I'm so sorry, i–” She started out, wanting to apologise to the random passenger, but words died on her tongue as soon as her eyes locked with the familiar brown ones.
”Y/N?” Polly stumbled out in shock.
Fuck
Part two upcoming
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mustyrosewater · 22 days ago
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𝖋𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞
𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖐 𝖈𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖑 𝖝 𝖆𝖋𝖆𝖇!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗
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𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 11,658
𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: meeting your long distance boyfriend over a ranked match of mortal kombat wasn't the typical meet cute you'd always dreamed of, but it seemed to work out perfectly.
��𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: descriptions of mortal kombat gore, phone sex, long distance relationships, SMUT, no protection (please use protection.), the angst that comes with having a partner over three hours away. probably spelling errors. no descriptions of the reader other than she has her nipples pierced.
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊: as soon as i saw that erik plays mortal kombat on my first watch, i immediately fan girled as somebody who's been a hardcore mortal kombat fan since i was like ten, this is the result of a hyperfixation and somehow smashing out 11k words in two nights, enjoy!!
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“FINISH HIM.”
“Oh, fuck you man.”
The angered words of your opponent rung through your headset, finally deciding to turn on the voice chat feature as the deep-voiced announcer finally called out your win. 
On the screen in front of you, you quickly mashed in the quick-timed combination to spur on Mileena’s fatality against the Scorpion that this stranger was playing as.
Watching with a satisfied grin, the 3D-modelled character stabbed the other in the head with her two sai, spinning his head a few times before ripping it off in a satisfying conclusion to the randomly matched online battle. 
Whoever it was on the other end of the match, they seemed unsatisfied to take the loss elegantly, letting out a small string of muttered curses. 
“Uh uh, no way, that was bullshit.”
You hadn’t yet turned on your own mic, and a majority of the time you wouldn’t bother to accept the requests of rematches, but your curiosity was peaked as this person seemed so intent on trying to beat you again. 
ErikTheInkman.
Boring username, you thought, but based on the stats displayed under his username, he played frequently, just as you did. 
It couldn’t hurt to play a few more rounds and get a few more wins under your belt to potentially rank up, and he did seem pretty intent on trying to beat you.
Finally clicking the X on your controller to accept the rematch, you reselected Mileena in the character menu, just as you always did.
Of course, you dabbled in other characters, but she had always been your favorite, the one you sunk the most hours into learning to perfection, her move sets and combos ingrained deeply in your head. 
The newest Mortal Kombat was barely over a year old. Still, in that time you’d managed to rank up a hefty amount, sinking hours into your gameplay to unlock the cosmetics and even delving into buying some of the DLC they’d released.
You watched your opponent reselect Scorpion, seemingly also preferring to stick to a certain character as was the norm for most of the other people you played online with. 
Selecting a randomly generated match was something you did slightly less often, usually choosing to play with friends, but with the trouble of most of your friends living in different time zones and none of them being awake for the time being, you bit the dust and went into a randomly selected match. 
The characters spoke their little introductory quips to one another, something you always enjoyed watching before a match to get into the headspace you wanted, before it began. 
As the announcer called out the beginning of the match with a deep-seated “Fight!” erik the inkman, or whatever I’m his username was, sprung into action immediately.
His technique was a bit sloppy at times, but nowhere near terrible, you still had to concentrate to hold your own against him, but as the match progressed you could see him getting pissed off from the way he played. 
Winning the first round with relative ease, you heard him key his mic back on as the second round started. 
“Are you fucking serious!”
It was nowhere near the first time you’d experienced the wrath of a man’s emotions when you played online matches, keeping your profile name fairly androgynous leading to a slight decline, but it was also the reason you usually chose to keep your mic off. 
Continuing on to the second round, you noted him continuing to talk while the two of you played, something that you could not stand, finding it to be extremely distracting while you tried to concentrate.
“Why are none of my combo’s working, My fucking controller is broken i swear to god.”
You didn’t care for anything he was saying, hardly even taking it in as you carefully and hastily let your muscle memory guide you as you played. 
Hitting an attack at a particularly well timed moment, you almost jumped in your seat in excitement as it triggered one of the particularly gore filled X-ray sequences, watching the 3D rendered Scorpion to be pummeled by your Mileena.
“Oh, Fuck off!”
With only a limited amount of health left in both of your characters, you could almost hear him mashing the buttons through his mic, finally feeling yourself reach your wits end as you felt your concentration slipping, tapping the button in your head seat to unmute your mic. 
“Shut the fuck up!”
Your voice seemed to quite him initially, leaving you with just enough time to hit a fatal blow onto his Scorpion, not even bothering to trigger a fatality when the announcers booming voice spoke out, letting his character simply fall to the ground as the timer finished. 
Letting out a deep sigh, you adjusted your cross legged position on your gaming chair, realising that your sigh had been audible from the mic you’d forgotten to put back on mute. 
“Just, jesus dude. Calm down, it’s not that serious.”
You left it at that, not waiting for a response as you exited the match and finding yourself back on the main menu of the game, deciding this was a good time to take a break as any, feeling almost as if you’re blood pressure had risen just from that interaction. 
Holding up your phone, you leaned back in your chair and tried to check to see if any of your friends had messaged on discord, finding no new notifications present on the menu screen. 
Only able to let out another sigh, you chose instead to scroll through instagram, looking over whatever came up in your screen, family and friends posts flying across the page as you flicked through them mindlessly. 
The sound of a notification through your headset turned your attention away from your phone, seeing a notification popping up on the corner of the screen.
‘ErikTheInkMan has sent you a friend request.’
Furrowing your brows, you stared at the notification momentarily, confusion playing across your features and you leaned forward and clicked onto his profile.
A stereotypical profile picture of some crudely drawn skull was showing next to his username, along with his rank and stats.
Before you could look at anything else on his profile, a message popped up following the friend request. 
“GG.”
As you took a moment to scoff at the attitude of the guy who’d just sworn and basically had a tantrum, another message followed. 
“Sorry.” 
Look, even if it was only one word, there was at least some part of you that appreciated the apology, almost taking pity for the guy who probably just got a little bit too heavily invested in his gaming like a lot of people did.
Maybe that’s why you accepted his friend request. 
The acception of his friend request was the last thing you’d done before one of your friends finally messaged you to let you know they were getting on the game, starting the process of queuing up with them, forgetting all about the angry stranger for the rest of the night.
Relative nothingness seemed to follow for the rest of that night, no more messages from him or any other attempt of a rematch. 
Not until the next day at least, when you’d gotten home from work and decided to blow off some steam by jumping in again, knowing how unlikely it was that any of your friends would actually be online, but you still wanted something to do.
So when roughly fifteen minutes after you logged on, you got a message from ErikTheInkMan, asking if you wanted to play a couple more rounds, you accepted.
You don’t explicitly say yes, didn’t even respond to the message itself, simply sent him an invite that he responded to just as promptly, throwing the pair of you in a lobby to select your characters. 
Neither of you spoke at first, but as you scrolled across to select Mileena once more, you gambled a risk by unmuting yourself and speaking.
“Just don’t yell like a man child this time.”
When you said that, you immediately heard laughter ring through your headset, embarrassed laughter of somebody who’d made a fool out of themselves and knew it whole heartedly. 
“I really am sorry about that.” his voice began, having a softness to it you hadn’t had the chance to hear yet. 
“Most of the time people either don’t respond or they’re yelling back at me, kinda got a bit desensitised i guess?”
Letting out a small “Mhm.” you continued going forward with the match, the pair of you locking in your characters and continuing forward. 
You couldn’t have known you both would have continued on for hours playing, eventually delving into a conversation of light playful jabs, making each other laugh as your matches grew more casual, rolling with the even mix of wins and losses on both sides. 
“I’m gonna get you this time, watch out.” 
He spoke with an audible smile, actively in the middle of knocking off a large amount of your health bar through a series of combo’s 
“Oh sure, you can try, but you’re hopeless.”
You’re response only let out a low laugh on his part.
“Oh you’re in for it now.”
The time spent in countless matches seemed to offset your initial meeting all together, now finding yourself getting nothing but sheer enjoyment out of the banter the pair of you shared. 
So much so that by the time you’d actually spared a glance at your clock for the first time tonight, you’d let out a small “Oh shit.” with a laugh.
“What is it?” he enquired, that same audible smile present in his tone.
“I should have gone to bed like, two hours ago.”
As you both laughed at your realisation, you listened as he seemed to check his own time.
“Shit, same here. I have to open tomorrow, we fucked up.”
Your mind wandered for a moment thinking what he might do, a question that might have to be left for next time you spoke, if there even was a next time at the very least.
“Alright, well, i’m gonna head off then.” you kept your tone kind, not immediately offering to play again with him, just keeping it open enough without shutting it down completely.
“Wait, do you have discord?” 
His immediate enquiry made you feel the slightest bit shy, a smile coming to your face as you laughed softly.
“Yeah, i’ll message you my tag.” 
Going into the messages feature of the game, you double checked it on your other monitor, already having had it open from the beginning of the night, and typed out your tag for him to look you up. 
“There you go, okay, i really have to get to bed now though.” you laughed through your words, finishing up your conversation with a mutual good night and exited the game, turning off your pc and getting ready for bed. 
Neglecting to check your phone until the next morning, you’d seen the notification from discord, the banner reading that a friend request had been sent your way, the time reading to only a few minutes after you’d fallen asleep the night before. 
Still named as ‘eriktheinkman’ on discord, his profile picture was still of a macabre nature, some sort of sketched picture of a snake across a dagger, potentially drawn by him? you weren’t entirely sure.
Taking the plunge and sending the first message wasn’t something you’d usually do, but it was all you could think about as you could ready for work, taking only a few seconds to type out a quick “good morning :)” before promptly putting the phone face down on your kitchen counter. 
By the time you’d gotten a response, you were already at work, maybe he was a few hours behind you? you hadn’t asked specifically where he was from but he clearly had an american accent, what if he was canadian? maybe you hadn’t picked it the accent correctly.
You’d sat down at your lunch break roughly an hour after initially seeing the notification, finally opening it up to see what he’d sent in response.
“morning. how’d you sleep?” 
It was a standard response obviously, mundane yet still left you with butterfly’s in your stomach, something so simple.
“not bad, still managed to wake up to my alarms lol.”
You hadn’t expected such a prompt response, seeing his profile become active within less than thirty seconds before you could see him start typing.
“wish i was in the same boat. was late to work, client was already waiting.”
Smiling to your screen, you tried to guess what he might do for a living, imagining a plethora of different things in your head as you watched him start typing again before you could even respond.
“we should play again tonight if you’re not busy.”
his lack of any smiley faces seemed fitting to the person you’d already gotten to know, being an avid user of emoji’s and hearts amount other things yourself, it was odd to see, but already didn’t seem out of character for him. 
“i don’t think i am, i finish work at 6:30, it’s like 3 now for me.”
Now with the understanding he’d woken up late specifically, you wondered if your guess about him being a few hours behind you was still correct, your mind brimming with the possibilities of where he was from. 
“oh okay, that works, it’s around 2 for me now, i should be finishing up at 6 as long as my boss doesn’t pull any shit.”
There was your answer, only roughly an hour behind you.
The thought made you giddy for some reason, maybe just excitement at the idea of meeting a potential friend that actually lived in the same continent as you, much less potentially only being a few states away.
“sounds perfect :)” 
Just as quickly as it started, your lunch break was over, sentencing you back to your job which awaited you with open arms, unable to keep your thoughts away from erik the ink man, as you’d come to start calling him in your head. 
The night when you came home and jumped back onto Mortal Kombat within only minutes of walking through the door, a night of even more laughter and playful insults that you knew now were done innocently, seemed to have kickstarted a long distance friendship between you and erik, coming to know each other by name. 
As the months drew onward, it got to the point you were talking to erik almost every day, messaging him on your lunch break to complain about annoying customers, he’d do the same when he had the free time during his shifts, joking about the people that would come in asking him for infinity symbols, or sleeves consisting of lions, roses and clocks. 
His dry humour was the best part of your day, the way he’d poke fun at you and send sarcastic comments your way that only made you laugh and playfully insult him back. 
Even when you were just cooking dinner, you’d end up calling him over discord and filling him in about your day while he either closed up the shop for the night or while he laid down on his couch absentmindedly playing something else. 
It was a sense of peace to the end of your days, being able to chat with somebody you grew to consider a close friend, as well as having a gaming buddy that actually lived reasonably on par with your time zone.
When he’d first mentioned off handedly that he finished off a tattoo that’d been a few sessions in the making that day, instead of sending it to you over discord like he usually did, he told you to just look him up on instagram, stating that it was easier.
You weren’t even entirely sure what you were expecting your friend to look like, never having conjured up some image of him in your head previously, so going from a blank slate to the tatted up, dark haired and blue eyed guy in the photo, happily tattooing away, well it was a bit of an unexpected jump. 
“I guess it’s only fair you actually see what i look like now.” you’d mused to him, following the instagram that he’d sent to you, waiting for him to notice the notification.
It’d only taken about a minute and a half till you received a follow back. 
“You’re such a fucking nerd.” erik mused, only stirring a laugh from deep within you, no doubt seeing the pictures of your gaming set up and the pictures from within the comic book store you worked at, goofy faces made with your coworkers. 
“Shut up.” was all you’d been able to respond with, now having such a different type of feeling now that you actually knew what the person behind the voice looked like.
Of course you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive, not that you’d ever admit that out loud. 
Every little sarcastic jab you threw at each other that felt like it carried even the slightest bit of flirting was now making you want to blush and hide your face like an idiot, always thankful that erik couldn’t actually see you. 
“I’m coming for you now.” 
Going from Mortal Kombat to a series of different games was now something you did quite often with erik, finding that you actually shared quite a few in common, finding that Dead by Daylight was a semi common one that you’d both suggest on the days where you gamed together.
“If you hook me i’ll moan.” you jokingly threatened, your mouth curling into a grin as you controlled your character, weaving over pallets and rounding corners as the killer erik was playing as found itself hot on your trail.
“Now i absolutely wanna hook you.” he responded, his killer gaining on your survivor at an alarming rate that had you letting out a little squeal.
“Oh get off my ass!” you laughed, there were still two other survivors he could be gunning for, but it made too much sense that he was targeting you specifically.
“Hmm, no. I was that ass specifically.”
His response only had you rolling your eyes, letting out a groan of annoyance when he downed you, his character picking yours up and walking towards one of the hooks that was close by. 
“No come onnn, let me cut a deal with you please.” you put on a mockingly begging tone, trying to button mash to get out of his killers hold. 
“You can’t whore your way out of this one.” he laughed through his words, hooking your character with no hesitation, the scream cutting through your headset as you put your controller down with a huff, only able to watch helplessly as the entitiy’s claws murdered your character.
“That was rigged, i refuse to accept that.”
“Now who’s having a tantrum?”
He was laughing just as much as you were as you watched the rest of the game play out, letting out a satisfied cheer when the last survivor escaped through the hatch, unable to be caught and murdered by erik’s killer.
“Yes! fuck you! that’s what you get!”
What had started as playful, slightly flirty insults initially, seemed to delve a bit deeper as time went on, going from unserious to being rooted in something unspoken between the pair of you. 
Now at the level of sending stupid little selfies to each other throughout the day, it’d been you who’d seemed to pull the first official check mate of whatever it was going on between you two.
You’d been getting out of the shower when your phone first vibrated, holding the towel wrapped around your body with one hand as you opened up discord to see him making a stupid face, obviously laying in bed judging by the messy hair and pillow behind his head. 
Obviously you could have waited until you got dressed to send something back, gotten into your pajamas and sent a similar selfie back from the comfort of your own bed. 
But you didn’t. 
Not even 100% certain of what you were doing, the sudden burst of confidence (potentially mixed with how goddamn pretty he looked in the initial selfie he sent you) seeming to prompt you to take a photo of yourself using the mirror, smiling softly as your wet hair and towel around your body was shown just enough to convey you’d only just stepped out of the shower 
At first, it’d taken him a little bit to respond, your anxiety was already telling you that you’d pushed it a bit too far, that this was the part where he ignored the picture or let you down easily, after five minutes of freaking out, you felt your phone vibrate again, opening the message hastily. 
“not even gonna lie, kind of wish you sent me that while you were still in the shower but i’ll take it.” 
He was still being playful, but it seemed like you were both in the same page, a mutual agreement now that there was definitely more to the flirting and the comments than just gaming buddies being silly.
Initially you stared at his message, biting your lip and now feeling completely unsure what to do from here, the sudden burst of confidence now entirely overshadowed by anxiety.
Before you could think to type anything or send another image, you watched an image begin to load up from erik, almost dropping your phone when you looked at it.
He’d obviously decided to take another selfie, his faded t shirt and boxers clearly in frame now, only seeing his mouth in the photo pulled into a slight smirk.
The clear image of his boxers also very clearly showed him half hard, the tartan pattern seeming to show every little detail through the thin material.
This was it, permission sent clear as day on his end, whatever it was that was about to happen between the two of you, he was giving you the green flag.
Overthinking the image more than you probably needed to, taking a moment to toy with the angles, you eventually settled on an image of yourself with the towel now falling a little bit more, your face slightly more in view than it was previously, sticking you tongue out in a mischievous way.
As opposed to previously, erik’s response after you sent the image came in much quicker this time, already seeming to make his frustration known.
“you’re making it really hard to be miles away right now.”
That was soon followed by a picture that was fairly similar than before, only difference being that why had initially been a half hard tent in his boxers was now standing far more, his hand resting on his stomach.
You could have done nothing but send photos back and fourth to each other all night, make it a painfully slow process, but there was definitely a build up that needed to be addressed, the comments you’d been throwing at each other for weeks now were starting to boil over, there wasn’t any room left to wait.
When you called him, he answered within a single ring, already hearing how deeply he was breathing. 
“You’re trouble.” were the first words out of his mouth, breathless and hurried. 
“Let me see you.” 
Calling him seemed to have opened the floodgates, any and all but if coyness and subtlety now thrown out the window and discarded by the both of you.
When you pulled your phone away and turned on your camera, the image of him soon followed, you’re smiling face being all the was in frame, biting your lip.
“Hi.” you whispered, unsure why, considering you lived alone, but he didn’t seem to mind, only smiling back at you as he slowly sat up in bed.
“If you don’t show me what’s under that towel, i’m gonna fucking burst.” 
His words felt like fire over your skin, it felt the slightest bit odd, about to show yourself to someone you’d never even met in the flesh, yet all with the comfort of how well you’d come to know him. 
Biting your lip to try and hide your smile, you held up your phone to show more of your body, now holding the towel across your chest, otherwise letting it hang loosely, hiding the parts of yourself that you knew he wanted to see. 
Even through the phone, you could hear his breathing get deeper and rougher, see the way his brows furrowed a bit as his eyes raked over your body with a laser focus. 
“Shit.” he whispered, seeming to sport a bit more confidence than you currently were, pulling his phone away from his face to show how he was currently palming himself through his boxers, no hesitation present on his features at all as his mouth fell open.
“I-I’ve never done this before.” you spoke, breaking the silence but showing no intentions of stopping your teasing, just finding yourself slightly unsure of what exactly you should be doing right now, overthinking what exactly it might be that he wanted you to do.
“Yeah? Me neither.” his words were a delicious mix of a huskiness and a grunt that had you already pressing your legs together “it’s okay, it’s okay.. just.. i’ll tell you what to do.. if you don’t wanna go any further, just say the word. okay?” 
God he was so sweet, so considerate, it only made you want to do this even more, wanted to see him touching himself to the sight of you, knowing how badly he wanted you. 
Nodding, you tilted your head and smiled, the innocent look on your face already having an evident effect on erik as he watched you through his phone, squeezing his cock through the fabric of his boxers as he moved his hand to slip under the waist band and start to play with himself lazily. 
“Need to see those tits, please baby.” 
The way he asked, begged to see you had you already starting to feel weak, like your stomach was doing cartwheels, barely even leaving you enough brain power to concentrate on letting the towel drop away from your breasts, using your now free’d hand to squeeze them for him, running your fingers so softly along the underside, running across your flesh in a way that seemed to spur an audible groan from him, especially when he saw the barbells that sat through your nipples, watching as his eyes locked into them immediately. 
“Jesus, when were you gonna tell me about those..” 
For a moment you were too sheepish to even speak, running your thumb over the peaks and letting out soft pants through your open mouth. 
“Not really an easy thing to just mention out of nowhere.” you laughed softly, watching as he shook his head softly, seemingly sharing your sentiment of being lost for words. 
“Fuck, you have no clue how much i’ve thought about you like this.”
Biting back a shy smile, you shut your eyes and let your mouth fall open as you run your hand along the soft flesh of your tits. Knowing that you were producing that much of a reaction from Erik purely from him seeing these parts of you, it would have been a lie if you’d said the feeling wasn’t a little bit addictive.
“Pinch em’ a little, please baby, just like that.”
His words caused your eyes to open back up, seeing that his face was now contorting into a mural of different expressions, the struggle to keep his eyes open visible on his face as he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth. 
As much as you were shy, the idea of doing these things in front of a camera making you feel weak, the adrenaline was out weighing it completely, the image on your phone screen of Erik pulling down his boxers with one hand, all to reveal..
“Oh my god, is that-“
The silver ball’s of the curved barbell sitting snugly inside the reddened tip of his cock caught the light of the camera and glinted softly in the dark room he was in.
Your words brought a croaked laugh out of his chest, turning the camera back to his face and smiling as you could see his shoulder moving while he pumped himself slowly and lazily. 
“Guess I can't give you any shit for not mentioning hidden piercings now..”
All you could do was nod your head and let out a small “uh huh”, already feeling hypnotised by the sight of him running his thumb over his tip that was met by the silver ball of the barbell. 
“Fuckin’ hurt like a bitch, worth it though.”
His chesty laugh sounded like liquid velvet to your ears, it made it seem like this wasn’t real at all, like you were just having a wet dream about someone you’d come to consider one of your best friends and that you were gonna wake up any second and you’d be back to nothing except flirty remarks and unspoken attraction. 
Except this was definitely real, when he turned the camera back to his face, his mouth hanging open and his chest rising and falling deeply, you knew your own brain was incapable of conjuring up an image like that. 
“Let me see those pretty tits again, don’t be selfish.”
You knew he wasn’t being genuine with his remark about you being selfish, it only made you smile more, bringing your phone back to an angle where both your face and torso could be seen, continuing to play with them for him, trying to hardest to put on a show, a private one that was purely for yours and his eyes. 
“Erik..” you practically mewled his name out, your voice shaky and unstable, only seeming to get more of a reaction out him, his shoulder moving in a way that signalled he was starting to pump himself faster. 
“Fucking- god, say my name again.” 
When you repeated his name, letting it come out similar to a prayer to a god, breathing it out so that it sounded like some sort of arcane word that had unknown power over him. 
You watched his eyes squeeze shut and his head fall back on his pillow, his mouth hanging open as he continued to let out a series of throaty groans that rose and fell in pitch at a rapid pace. 
“Holy shit, holy shit.”
Knowing that something as simple as saying his name could have this much a reaction from him, the power you held, it just made your mind swim with the possibilities of what it would be like if he was here with you right now, or you with him. 
You pictured laying down on his bed, making a mess of his grey coloured sheets as he took you from behind, how it would feel to have his strong hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your womb at an unforgiving place.
When your hand had made it’s way down to your clit, you couldn’t even remember, too wound up in chasing your own release to even try and keep track of how long you’d both been sitting here watching each other play with yourselves. 
All you were aware of was how close you were, letting the thoughts of what you’d let him do to you drive the rest of the fantasy in your mind, the idea of him putting that pierced dick inside you and filling you up to the brim with his cum seeming to do the job perfectly, feeling the tightness in your stomach begin to wind itself together.
“Erik, Erik, i think i’m gonna cum.”
“Yes baby, please, fuck i wish i was there, i wanna cum inside you so much, oh my- fuck!”
His own noises were cut off my silence as you watched him seem to still for a moment, only to start moving again at a much slower place, his head rising up while he suddenly began to make noises again, coming out as high pitched cries he seemed to cum all over his belly from what you could see as the camera started to fall out of frame, rolling up to show half of his face and the wall behind him. 
It hadn’t been long for you to follow, the sounds he made proving to be the perfect final little bit of a push you needed in order to be plunged into the cooling pool of an orgasm that had your toes curling and your thighs shaking. 
Falling back from your position sitting on the edge of the bed, you felt your back hit the blankets and stared up at the ceiling as you started to come down from your high, suddenly becoming aware of the fact your heart beat was pounding in your own head, shutting your eyes and just letting the sound of your own panting be accompanied by the sounds of Erik’s own coming from your phone.
You must have sat there for at least another thirty seconds or so, cause eventually you heard Erik’s words coming out with soft laughter. 
“You still alive?” he asked, only just now realising your phone had been abandoned next to you, no doubt now facing your ceiling. 
“No.” you responded, only resulting in another laugh ringing out from him as you finally sat up, grabbing your phone and rolling onto your stomach, holding it back up so you could Erik again, who was now standing once more and seemingly cleaning his own release off his stomach with a tissue. 
“Must’ve died and gone to heaven.” 
You let your face fall forward onto the blanket as you laughed at his words, looking back up to see him looking at the camera once more and smiling softly, looking at you as if you were a piece of art. 
At first there was nothing but silence as you watched him sit back down on his bed, running a hand over his face briefly, as if you were waiting for each other to speak first and address what just happened. 
“What did we just do?” you asked, letting a sigh leave your lips and your brows furrowing as a confused smile crossed your features.
“Well, i hope i’m correct in assuming this..” he began “But i think we just did something that was a long time coming.” 
Looking at you expectantly, you waited for a moment before nodding, embarrassment suddenly flooding through you as you realised how long you’d both let this play out because you were both just too stupid to communicate. 
“Yeah, that checks out.” you laughed, standing up and letting the phone rest on your night stand as you pulled out your drawer and grabbed a pair of pajamas to get closed into it, pulling a pair of shorts on and stepping back into frame as you pulled a shirt over yourself. 
“Careful, my dicks still really sensitive, don’t start her back up again.” he joked, making a pretend pained face as you smiled, his sense of humor seeming to have come back after the post orgasm clarity. 
“Her?” you questioned with a smile, only for him to nod. 
“Of course.” he responded as if it was obvious. 
-
A long distance relationship wasn’t something you’d ever thought about in great detail, at least not before Erik; yet it was something that just seemed to work perfectly for the two of you, for the most part. 
There wasn’t a whole lot of change in routine, other than your gaming sessions and late night phone calls finishing up with “I love you”s and occasionally more instances of the two of you getting off over video call.
It was quickly evident just how insatiable the both of you were, sending Erik photos with your shirt pulled up while he was at work knowing how much it was going to drive him crazy, just the same for him to send you videos late at night of him lazily jerking off when you didn’t have time to call him. 
There’s only so much that can be done when you lived at least three or four states away, when the video calls weren’t enough anymore, you graduated up to remote control toys, a vibrator he could control using his phone, which he had used more than once to get the upper hand during a match. 
“Oh, eat a dick!” you’d yelled with a laugh, practically bouncing in your gaming chair as your team got the upper hand, ready to secure yet another win against the team he’d been playing against. 
Yeah well, it’s all fun and games until he decides to turn it all the way up out of nowhere, a soft shriek leaving your lips as you feel yourself flying forward, the hands holding your controller beginning to shake as a bruising amount of vibration descends upon your clit. 
“That’s not fairrrr!” you’d whine, turning to look at the screen where you had your webcams set up, only seeing Erik grinning like a smug idiot as he puts his phone down and picks his controller back up. 
That’s also great, amazing actually, but it gets to a point. 
When that point is almost eight months into officially being a couple, finally being introduced to his siblings when they poke their heads into frame, waving to them and letting Erik introduce you officially as his girlfriend who just happens to live over a thousand miles away. 
His sister followed you on instagram, already starting a steady routine of sending you funny reels and replying to your posts with hearts and smiley faces. 
His brother seemed to love you, always being heard asking if he could say hi in the background when you were talking to Erik, each and every time making an effort to ask you how you were going, the biggest sweetheart you’d ever met in your life. 
You hadn’t been there when Erik had told his parents about you, but you had gotten a text from him to let you know that his mother and father really wanted to meet you, or at least, talk to you over a video call. 
No matter how much he reassured you that you had no reason to be nervous, that he’d already shown his parents pictures of you and gushed non stop to the point that they already were voicing how excited they were to finally talk to you, you were still pacing back and forth while you waited for Erik to call you. 
Absolutely nothing in this world could have prepared you for how amazing his parents were, how kind they had been, the way they’d smiled so brightly when you started the call like they were more excited to see you than even Erik was. 
When Erik’s father had patted him on the shoulder, gushing about how happy he was that his son had found such a nice girl and how proud he was. 
You knew Erik liked to put on a tough guy front, but the way he smiled while his father praised him, the sight warmed your heart in such a way that you’d never felt before. 
His mother was the sweetest woman you’d ever had the pleasure of speaking to, asking you so intently about yourself, it hadn’t taken long for you to just fall absolutely in love with the rest of Erik’s family just as much as you were head over heels in love with him. 
Maybe that was why the distance had finally started to get to you, the desperation to feel something as simple as holding his hand but knowing that you couldn’t, it had started to boil over for you, coming to a head at the end of one of your many phone calls. 
“Alright, i gotta go to bed baby, it’s already so late.” he laughed, hearing the soft shuffling of him rolling over in bed. 
The time on your clock read close to 1:30 AM, not an unusually late time for you guys to finish your calls, but you knew he had to open the shop tomorrow, you knew he needed to actually be up at a reasonable hour. 
You really did just wanna say good night, tell him you’d see him in the morning, but the words couldn’t bring themselves to come out, all you could do was sniffle softly as you felt tears welling up in your eyes.
“Baby?” he asked, concern already starting to lace his voice when you didn’t respond, even more so when he could hear that you were audibly in the brink of tears. 
“I hate this..” you whispered with a shaken voice, rubbing your eye with your sleeve as you felt tears already starting to stream down your cheeks. 
“What’s wrong? talk to me, are you okay?”
While it took you a moment to find the words, only able to release a small number of pathetic sobs as you could hear the way your boyfriend was starting to panic over the phone, you finally spoke, gathering yourself so that you could relieve him from the anxiety of wondering why you’d seemingly started crying out of nowhere.
“I just wanna hold you, I wanna hold your hand. We’re gonna hang up this call and i’m just going to lay down in this bed alone knowing your over a thousand miles away and there’s nothing i can do about it.”
Your words were wobbly, a vomit of feelings you’d spent the last few weeks bottling up, only to now all come out at once like an opening of floodgates that you couldn’t find the strength to get a handle on. 
At first you were worried about how he was going to respond, already imagining all of the things he might say in response to your sudden rant, when he was already tired and needed to go to bed. 
Letting out a sigh, he spoke.
“I know.” he began, his tone taking on a much more vulnerable tone than you’d expected, his voice coming in an octave higher than it was before. 
“I hate it too, god, you have no idea how much i just wanna hold you, it’s been getting to me too baby.” 
His words only seemed to bring on more tears, your face falling into your hands, all you wanted was to lay your head on his chest and cry it out, but you couldn’t even do that.
“We’re gonna get there soon okay? I’ve already been talking to my dad about trying to get time off work, it just needs to be planned, that’s all.”
Letting out one more pathetic little sniffle, you nodded your head, even if it was just a phone call, wiping your tears one more time as you tried to find something to say.
“I love you, you know that right?”
His words made a weak laugh bubble up from your stomach, always loving the way it sounded when he said it, always making you feel better straight away.
“I love you too.” you breathed.
“I’ll call you as soon as I can tomorrow, but you need to sleep baby, I can tell you’re tired.” 
You could hear the smile on his words as he offered you comfort, only able to wish him a goodnight and a good day at work tomorrow before you finally hung up the call for the night rolled over to try and get some sleep. 
-
When you’d gotten the phone call from Bobby, you’d initially thought that maybe something had happened, why exactly would he be calling you directly and not just either messaging you or getting Erik to call you; nonetheless, you answered.
“Hey Bobby, everything okay?”
You’re next best suspicion was that this call most definitely had something to do with the fact that Erik’s birthday was coming up in a few weeks, maybe he needed a hand with picking something, or he wanted to see what you were thinking of getting him, not that you could really send a lot unless you had it shipped. 
Just as quickly as you’d spoke, you heard Julia’s voice come through, realising quickly you were on speaker phone with the pair of siblings. 
“How soon can you get time off work?” 
With that conversation, a devious plan by Erik’s two siblings was set in motion, his mother partially being involved, they explained. 
All that you had to do was give them a time where you would be free and not working, and Brenda would book you a plane ticket. 
“We’re gonna give him the best birthday present of his whole goddamn life.”
-
The flight had been almost three hours, the final step in a two and half week long plan to hide any and all hints that you were going to be flying out from your boyfriend. 
It was already arranged that Julia was going to pick you up from the airport under the guise of running out to get a few things for the little party that the family had planned, all you had to do was make sure that your flight didn’t crash horribly and everything would be fine. 
You’d lied through your teeth when Erik had called you that morning, explaining that you were going out to go see some family and that there wasn’t any service where they lived, which he promptly bought completely and without question. 
He had no reason to doubt you of course, it was a reasonable enough excuse to have your phone off, considering it had already happened before when you went to visit family in the past. 
With Erik more than thoroughly distracted with the celebration for his birthday underway, as well as your flight finally landing, it was only going to be less than an hour before you were finally standing face to face with your boyfriend for the first time ever. 
The thought alone was already making your hands shake as you walked through the terminal dragging your suitcase behind you. 
When Julia had spotted you, you’d both been unable to hide back the squeals you let out as you embraced each other, already over the moon with finally being able to greet Erik’s sister, who’d come to embrace you wholeheartedly as a friend. 
“Oh I can’t wait to see the look on his fucking face!” she’d mused, taking your hand immediately and guiding you through the rest of the terminal and out into the massive parking lot where she’d helped load your suitcase into the trunk. 
The drive was by no means helping your nerves, knowing that with every meter you crossed you were getting closer and closer, even just knowing that Erik was only a thirty or so minute drive and not a whole set of states away? it was making you feel giddy and nauseous all at the same time somehow. 
Your knee was bouncing incessantly as the tall buildings began to slowly morph into suburbia, houses with bright green lawns flying past your window. 
You had no idea which house was the Campbells, so it was just a waiting game of when the car was going to slow down, your heart beating at a pace that made you feel like it was going to burst out of your chest and you’d die from a heart attack before you even got the chance to finally meet your boyfriend in the flesh. 
“I don’t know if i can do this.” you blurted out, fear evident on your face as you turned to Julia who only burst out laughing at the look on your face. 
“You’re gonna be totally fine!l she encouraged, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rub your shoulder. 
“Erik on the other hand? he might piss his pants.” 
Just as she said that, you felt the car slowing down, a house coming into view which she turned the car towards, pulling into the gravel driveway, which promptly made you feel like you were going to start hyperventilating.
Never before had you felt so much anxiety, yet at the same time wanted to break the window down and sprint to the front door and kick it open. 
So many stupid thoughts began to flood your brain, what if you didn’t look the same as you did on camera and he didn’t like you? What if he suddenly decided he didn’t want to be your boyfriend anymore? 
You hadn’t even realised you’d just been sitting there staring at the house in silence with a panicked look on your face until Julia spoke. 
“I just texted Bobby, we’re ready to go.” she grinned at you, unbuttoning her seatbelt and shimmying her shoulders at you excitedly. 
“Are you ready?” she asked, only finding yourself able to nod silently as you exited her car, pulling your suitcase out of the back seat and approaching the door at Julia’s side with shaky hands. 
Exchanging one more look, Julia grinned as she knocked on the door softly, being greeted by Bobby’s grinning face as he pulled you in for a quick hug. 
“Oh my god, you’re real!” he spoke with hushed excitement. 
You could already hear music coming from the backyard as the siblings began to sneak you through the door like you were a secret package that needed to be delivered without detection. 
“Okay, they’re in the backyard, let’s move.” Bobby spoke to you, letting Julia walk ahead and out to the backyard carrying the supplies she’d apparently been sent out to get. 
With a hand on your back, Bobby guided you to the backyard, light greeting you as you looked around frantically, spotting every member of the Campbell family one by one before finally landing on the back of a band shirt and a head of dark hair fiddling away with the grill. 
“Erik!” Julia called out, looking at you briefly with a grin “I got your present while i was out!” 
“Uh huh.” he responded, barely paying attention to his sisters words as he continued tinkering with the machine, not turning around just yet.
You felt like you were gonna be sick any second, jesus, turn around Erik, turn around. 
As if he’d heard your telepathic command, he turned to look at his sister, a bored look in his face as he expected to receive some sort of stock standard last minute present. 
The very second his eyes met you own, you’re terrified smile beaming at him from only a few meters away, his reaction wasn’t really that far off from what you expected.
“Oh my fucking god!” his voice was loud, his hands coming to tangle in his hair as he looked across at you like you weren’t real for a few seconds before he looked over at his sister. 
“Are you serious?!” 
You knew it wasn’t a bad yell, that he was probably just in shock, hell, you’d had hours to process this and you felt like you were still in shock yourself. 
Tears started flooding your eyes as soon as you heard his voice for the first time not coming out of the phone, when it seemed to dawn on both of you that you were here standing in front of him, physically here. 
Without hesitation, Erik only muttered one more quick “Fuck off.” astonishment still clear on his face as you both bee lined it for one another, crashing into each other so quickly you almost knocked each other over. 
There was no chance of holding back your sobs, loud and embarrassing but you couldn’t find it in you to care, you were finally holding him in your arms and you had absolutely no intention of letting go. 
“Holy shit, Holy shit.” his words were muffled from where his face had found itself tucked into the crook of your neck, still wobbled enough to where you could tell that he was also fighting back tears. 
Swaying in each other's arms to the point that you almost fell over more than once, you didn’t want to risk pulling away, fearing that you’d pull away and he’d no longer be there in front of you. 
Finally being able to pull away and look up at him, you could see how puffy his blue eyes already were, using your sleeves to reach up and wipe them away for him, the pair of you both laughing through your tears. 
“Happy birthday.” was all you could manage to croak out, letting yourself be cut off by the feeling of his hands on your cheeks, pulling you in as he leaned down to finally lay a deep kiss on your lips, something you’d both been itching to feel for months now. 
He tasted like the beer he’d been drinking, and his stubble tickled your lip but you couldn’t find it in you to care in the slightest, only feeling so completely and utterly overjoyed to finally be inhaling his scent and feeling his lips against yours. 
Pulling away, he pulled you against his chest all over again, letting you wrap your arms around his middle as he rested his chin on the top of your head. 
“I fucking hate you guys so much.” he laughed, the family erupting into laughter at his comment. 
-
The entire span of Erik’s birthday celebration had been spent by his side, not allowed to leave his side for even one second. 
When you’d been speaking with Bobby and Julia, he stood behind you with his arms around you and his chin resting on top of your head, and when you sat to finally have a proper meeting with his Dad, he sat by your side and kept his hand on your leg. 
He peppered your face with kisses as you both just stood there holding each other, letting you explain every step of the elaborate plan you and his entire family had hatched behind his back. 
“So you did this all behind my back, and still managed to keep it a secret?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief as you nodded.
Leaning forward to place yet another kiss on your forehead, he just smiled down at you like you were a gift from god.
By the time the celebrations were wrapping up, it was almost midnight, and everybody was more than tired enough to be pretty desperate to hit the hay. 
As you said your goodnights, gave his mother a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she told you how happy she was that you were finally here, you could see Erik coming over with your suitcase, an arm coming around your shoulder. 
“Let’s put this up in my room.” he sighed, obviously quite tired himself from the day. 
Heading up the stairs trailing behind Erik, you watched him open up his bedroom door and were finally greeted with the sight of the bedroom you’d only ever seen in the background of your video calls, seeing it in person hardly even felt real, finding yourself giddy all over again. 
Standing there in the middle of the room for a few seconds, it hadn’t been long before you felt arms wrapping around you from behind, Erik letting his forehead rest on the crook of your neck and he took a deep breath of your scent in, letting out a satisfied groan. 
“I still can’t believe you’re here.” he spoke, only making you smile brighter as you turned in his arms, facing him and letting your forehead rest against his own as you both closed your eyes. 
“I can’t believe it either.” 
Resting your hands on his cheeks, your eyes remained closed as you captured his lips in a soft kiss, just letting them rest there as his arms around tightened. 
As innocent as it started, it had only been a few seconds before Erik was already deepening the kiss, neither of you showing any form of hesitation as you began to embrace each other. 
His hands found their way to your waist, starting to squeeze at your flesh as he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, the desperation you held for each other was finally able to reach its fullest form now that you were finally alone.
Opening your mouth up to him, you tasted the beer and cigarettes on his tongue, even the slight aftertaste of sweet birthday cake that had been cut up for everyone, exactly what you imagined he’d tasted like. 
In any other instance, you both would have taken your time, but it would have been stupid to assume that there would have been any kind of patience shared between you right now, Erik’s hands were already finding their way under your shirt, leading you to where his bed sat in the corner of the room.
As soon as the back of your knees hit the bed, you let yourself fall onto it with a soft laugh from Erik, his knee finding its way between your legs almost as if it was an instinct, like you knew each other's bodies perfectly even if this was the first time you’d even touched each other. 
The desperation shared between the two of you was borderline pornographic, gripping each other like you were going to fall away any second, Erik pulling away only for a second to tear off his shirt like it was burning his skin, before moving to his belt buckle with shaky hands. 
You worked at your own clothes, comfortable for the sake of the long flight, coming with the benefit of also being easy to remove. 
As Erik came back down, you were halfway through removing your shirt, something he was more than happy to help you with, throwing it onto the floor of his room with no regard as to where it landed. 
“I need you.” you whispered against his lips that had found their way back onto his own, his grip on you tightening in response to your words, almost so hard it hurt, a groan coming from deep within his throat. 
“I know.” he breathed out, his hands wasting no time before moving to the waistband of your pants, pulling at it until you raised your hips slightly off the mattress, leaving you laying there in nothing but a tank top and panties, a sight that had him simply staring down at you in silence, panting. 
He looked at you like you were made of clouds, like with just one more touch you’d fade away any second, this was more than just lust driven hunger, there was an unspoken need between the two of you, desperation to feel each other in a way you could only imagine until now. 
“There’s so much i want to do to you right now.” he huffed, running his fingers lightly against your chest, his hands coming to lazily grab at your tits, running his thumb against one of your hardened nipples that was now poking against the thin fabric of your tank top, only eliciting an open mouthed moan from you, a whimper that came out in a way you weren’t even conscious of. 
“But all I can think about is burying myself so deep inside you that you see stars.” 
His words, the image they out in your head, it had to keening for him and grinding your pussy against his knee like an animal in heat, but you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be self-conscious about it, you were just as desperate for him as he was for you, if the hard form now running against his jeans was anything to show. 
“Please, baby, please.” 
Your words had him gripping your legs tightly, pulling away from you only briefly, hooking his fingers into your panties to take them with him as he backed away, kneeling on the floor and pulling you harshly to the end of the bed.
Unable to hold back the small squeal as he pulled you and hooked your legs over his shoulders, you both found yourselves laughing like kids at a sleepover, his index finger coming to rest on your lips.
“Shut the fuck up, jesus.” he wheezed, leaning forward to give you one more quick kiss on the lips. 
“You gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?” he asked, leaving you to respond with a nod as you bit your lip, raising yourself on your elbows briefly to watch him sink his face between your legs. 
The second you even felt his stubble tickle your thighs, much less the feeling of his tongue licking a long stripe across your pussy, your head tipped back and your mouth fell open, a silent scream escaping as he dove in to devour you with little hesitation. 
Fuck, you’d waited so long for this, any thoughts you may have had about how this was going to feel were absolutely nothing compared to the real thing, nothing you could have conjured up in your mind was anywhere close to how earth-shattering it felt for him to run his tongue through your folds. 
The sounds were sloppy, ringing in your ears along with a choir of guttural moans coming from Erik’s end, like he’d been stuck in a desert for days and only just now had gotten his hands on water. 
He lapped at you like he didn’t want to waste a single drop of you, gripped your thighs so hard that you knew for a fact there was going to be red marks by the time you were done.
When his hands hooked under your knees, pushing them forward without warning so that they were nearly next to your ears, he pushed his tongue into you with no mercy, the feeling of him fucking you on his tongue having you feel like you were about gush right then and there.
For a moment or two, you could have literally sworn you went blind, a hand flying to your both to try and hide the absolutely pathetic sounds that were coming out of you, your other hand coming down to tangle through his soft dark hair. 
“Come on baby, cum on my face, fucking do it.”
His words of encouragement had been more than enough, paired with the feeling of his fingertips landing on your clit to rub fast and quick circles, his tongue going in and out of you, you felt your entire body still, your thighs instinctively trying to push together only to be held open by his strong hands. 
He kept going until you were pulling at his hair trying to get him to stop, letting out soft mewl’s of overstimulation, the muscles in your stomach were still turning, your pussy still pulsing by the time he came back up to be face to face with you.
His chin was glistening in what little light there was in his room, a grin on his face that matched his blown out eyes, so dark that they almost looked black. 
You couldn’t even form words, your orgasm had wrecked you so much that all you could do was let out little hums, kissing him lazily when he leaned down to take your mouth against his. 
As you made out with him, you already began to feel him running the tip of his cock against your folds, gliding along the flesh that was now absolutely soaked, so wet that you wouldn’t be surprised if you hardly even felt him slide in at first. 
“Can I put it inside you, please baby, please let me put it inside you..” 
He whispered and begged against your lips, the cold feeling of the metal from his prince albert against your sensitive clit already having you spasm softly underneath him. 
The only thing you could do was nod, finally opening your heavy lids to look up at him and just stare into his bright blue eyes that stared back down at you. 
You could tell how much he was holding himself back, letting his cock get swallowed up by your pussy, his mouth falling open as the warmth embraced him, a choked out moan falling from deep in his chest. 
Your hands came to rest on his cheeks once more, your foreheads connecting and eyes shutting tightly as he slowly let himself bottom out; as much as you’d always heard people describe it as feeling like they were literally molded for one another, you’d never actually taken it seriously. 
But now you knew exactly what they were talking about, when he finally sat completely inside you, his pelvis resting snugly against your own, it truly did feel like two puzzle pieces coming together, like you were completely filled by him in every meaning of the word, every crevice being filled in by him to complete satisfaction. 
Even you weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there before he finally started to move his hips, it could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, but time just seemed to move differently when he was inside you, you fluttered around him, every time you did making his hips stutter. 
The pace he initially set was slow, but hard, barely even pulling out halfway before he pushed back in again, each time managing to hit that sweet spot deep inside you like he’d been doing it for years, like he was a master of his art. 
Wrapping your arms around his neck, his forehead found itself resting against your collar bone as he thrusted into you repeatedly, rhythmic grunts and whimpers coming from him in time with each time he pushed it back in. 
“Erik, baby, please.. harder…”
There wasn’t anything else you could have said to have had him change up so quickly, a growl finding itself from deep within his chest as he rose up from his spot on your collar, his eyes appearing to be almost glazed over as he wasted no time beginning to increase the pace of his thrusts.
Looking up at him, he held himself up with one hand, using his other to hook under your knee once more, bringing one of your legs up so that he could begin hitting even deeper, at even more brutal speed, your hand immediately coming to grip his arm tightly as you let out a choked gasp. 
When you’d asked him to fuck you harder, you should have known that meant almost having the wind knocked from your stomach, small sounds leaving you in a way that you couldn’t control. 
He was pulling almost almost entirely out of you for each thrust now, his tip just on the border of falling out before he slammed back inside, a wet slapping sound ringing out with every single time he rammed himself back into you at a pace that had you beginning to see stars just as he’d said, now finding yourself unable to control the moans coming out of your mouth.
His hand that had been holding your leg flew to cover your mouth, silencing you only slightly as he stared down at you, shaky breaths coming out of him as he set an absolutely bruising pace, almost like as much as he was trying to keep you quiet, he was also just as determined to have you crying out his name for dear life. 
“Been wanting to be buried in this pussy for so long” he growled, his eyes squeezing shut “just fucked my hand and thought about nothing but this.” 
The words he was spouting paired with the brutal thrusts he was laying into you were almost too much, you felt yourself getting dizzy as your eyes seemed to almost roll into the back of your head. 
“Fuck, fuck, i’m gonna cum..” he warned, his thrusts getting shorter and shorter as he pulled out less with each, but only continuing to get faster and harder as he twitched inside you.
“Gonna fill this fucking pussy up? huh? fill you with my cum?” 
All you could manage was a nod, his hand pulling away from your mouth, both of them now gripping your hips and fucking you at a borderline merciless pace as you just laid there and took it.
With a sudden stop, and a few more slowed shallow thrusts, he shut his tightly, his cock twitching as he started to paint your insides with hot spurts of cum, his hips shaking as he rode out his own orgasm with short slow thrusts, gripping your hips so hard you knew you were likely going to have bruises the next morning. 
For a while, you just both laid there, his forehead coming to rest once more on your collar bone,  the pair of you covered in sweat and so tired out you could barely move. 
You knew you should get up, probably try to make some sort of effort to get cleaned up, but with the fact that you were both seemingly now paralysed, also mixed with the fact that being locked in each others arms was incredibly peaceful, all you could do was reach for the blanket that he’d been pushed astray by your initial activities, and pull it over the pair of you, settling into a comfortable enough position where he still sat inside you.
Stroking the back of his head softly, he let out a soft hum that communicated to you that he was definitely comfortable, just as you were, a smile coming to your face as you kissed the top of his head. 
“Gonna have to shower in the morning..” you whispered softly, only getting another small hum in return. 
“Good, i’ll be ready to do this all over again by then.” he chuckled softly, his head finally raising up to smile at you, leaning forward to catch your lips in a soft kiss. 
“Can’t wait.”
425 notes · View notes
warnersister · 1 year ago
Text
How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon
(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk
Tommy🪖
🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.
🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.
🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night
🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.
🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror
🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.
🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”
🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went
🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body
🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress
🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.
🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.
🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.
🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.
🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.
🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.
🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”
🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”
🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.
🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.
🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.
🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.
🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.
🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.
🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.
🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.
🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”
🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”
🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.
Arthur🍺
🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.
🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.
���left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.
🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.
🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.
🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.
🍺then you spotted it; the sundress
🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.
🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.
🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.
🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.
🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.
🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.
🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.
🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.
🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.
🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.
🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.
🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.
🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.
John🥃
🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.
🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.
🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.
🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.
🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.
🥃a bit of normality.
🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.
🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.
🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.
🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.
🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.
🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.
🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.
🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs
🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”
🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door
🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John
🥊cannot keep his hands off of you
🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.
🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.
🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.
🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”
🥊”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.
🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.
🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.
🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.
🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.
🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.
🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.
🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”
🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.
🥊He was being extremely difficult
🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.
🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)
🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.
🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.
🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.
🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.
🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.
🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.
Isaiah♟️
♟️haha.
♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.
♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.
♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.
♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.
♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”
♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.
♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”
♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”
♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away
♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”
♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.
♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom
♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked
♟️and on the sofa
♟️and the kitchen table
♟️and then bedroom
♟️(you never took the dress off)
♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways
♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.
♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.
♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes
Michael🎱
🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there
🎱loved how it looks on you
🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.
🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.
🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.
🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.
🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.
🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.
🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.
🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.
🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.
🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.
🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.
🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.
🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.
🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered
🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.
🎱he was there soon thereafter.
🎱and he was fucking seething.
🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing
🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.
🎱how dare you wear that dress?
🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home
🎱but tonight was different
🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you
🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.
🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.
🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.
🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o��course Michael.” You say as you get out the car
🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.
Finn🎞️
🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.
🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.
🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.
🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.
🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.
🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”
🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?” He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.
🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.
🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.
🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.
🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.
🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.
🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says
🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”
Aberama🌞
🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke
🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion
🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.
🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.
🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.
🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.
🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.
🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.
🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:
🌞his gorgeous bride.
🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.
🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.
🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.
🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.
🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.
🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns
🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.
🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began
🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.
🌞make your skin fucking crawl.
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ervotica · 6 months ago
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fucking bellamy blake and john murphy at the same time😔🫶 cw; smut, fem!reader (gimme a hair tie & two mins alone with them and i’ll genuinely change their lives <3)
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murphy grouses at your every movement, pinching your hip as you shift beneath him and his cock drags backward against your walls, the movement helped along as bellamy tweaks your clit and your cunt dribbles slick.
your legs twitch and close inward, stopped short on their journey as murphy wedges his pelvis between your legs with a grumble. he bends forward at the waist, nudging at your throat with that curved nose. you hiccup, half heartedly complaining, fingers splayed over his shoulders.
bellamy rolls his eyes, slipping out from beneath you to muscle in beside murphy, halting his movements.
“move,” bell murmurs, his hand dancing upward to find the crease between your anxious brows. “have t’be gentle with her,” he explains, voice low. “work her up to bein’ rough. she’s only little.”
murphy grouses something rather unsavoury, brows pinched tight as he watches bellamy pry his fingers into the crease of your thigh, using his free hand to dig his cock from his trousers.
“you got it, baby,” bellamy murmurs, nudging the head against your pussy until you relent and grant him entrance. you clamp your thighs either side of his hips, whining as bellamy grabs john by the wrist and guides his fingers over your swelled clit. he rolls his hips in slow, deliberate movements, canines poking through his top lip as you relax and open up for him. “see, she likes that.”
you hiccup, reaching for bellamy’s hand. he tsks, dragging a knuckle over your cheek. preening, you tilt your face into the touch and whine.
“‘s nice, baby?” bellamy murmurs, rolling his hips into you harder this time. you nod fervidly. murphy grumbles, cock kicking up at your needy little noises even as he feigns disinterest.
bellamy rolls back on the balls of his feet, his cock gliding out with a wet squelch as he makes room for murphy to push back between your legs. “that’s it. nice and slow with her.”
murphy rolls his eyes but complies, sinking back into your spongy walls as bellamy slides back behind you, petting his fingers over your clammy temple.
bellamy nudges at your hairline with the tip of his nose, murmuring against the crown of your skull as murphy’s pace quickens and deepens, and you mewl, pussy clamping tight over the length of him. murphy’s hips stutter. bellamy laughs.
“you can’t come yet, champ. not until she has.”
“why does the princess get to come first? she didn’t even do any work!” he whines.
“because i fucking said so. go on, get back to work.” bellamy smears a kiss over the crown of your head, snickering.
you gasp when murphy nudges your swollen clit with his thumb.
“bell,” you warble.
“i know, princess. he’s giving your pussy some love, isn’t he?”
murphy scoffs. “don’t love it.”
“yeah, that’s why you’re about to come just looking at that pretty pussy, isn’t it?”
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eternallyniah · 5 months ago
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When I should be talking to guys my age but I keep thinking about men the same age as my dad.
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queenshelby · 11 months ago
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Siblings (Part One)
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Half!Sister
Warning: Incest
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It was around 10'clock at night when you heard a quiet knock on the door.  You couldn't help but feel a little surprised—and a bit nervous. You had never had a visitor this late before as usually your siblings were out, getting themselves into trouble, and your Aunt Polly, who had taken it upon herself to look after everyone, was in bed.
Your sister Ada, with whom you shared a room, had sneaked out earlier to see her boyfriend Freddy, so it was just you that night, alone in your small room, lying on your single bed, wearing a nightgown and reading a book. 
"Who is it?" you called out, your heart skipping a beat.
"It's Thomas," came the reply. His voice was quiet and calm. 
You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should let him in that late at night. He had just come back from the war a few weeks ago and his demure had changed towards you. It was almost like he had become obsessed with you, wanting to keep you company more often than you were used to. 
Thomas was gone for five years and came back more handsome than ever.  He had a rugged jawline, and deep-set blue eyes. He wasn't tall, but well-built with a perfect gentleman's body.
The war had hardened him, made him stronger, but also wiser. He had seen the worst of humanity, and you could tell that it had affected him deeply. It was understandable; he had been through hell and back.
"May I come in?" Thomas eventually asked, his voice still composed.
Without saying a word, you stood up and covered yourself with a robe , before opening the door slowly.
The light from the hallway spilled into the room, illuminating Thomas's figure. He looked a bit tired, but his eyes were still bright and clear.
"Of course," you said finally, as you walked back to your bed and folded your book closed. 
"I have heard that there was trouble today, at the docks," Thomas  said as he sat down on the edge of your bed. He looked tired, but fatigue failed to sap the confidence and dominance from his demeanor.
You sighed and nodded. "Ada told me not to go there, but curiosity got the better of me Tommy," you admitted whereas, the truth was, that just recently you began to involve yourself with Isiah, another Peaky Blinder and your new-found love had gotten you into trouble. 
"Curiosity, eh?" Thomas chuckled, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Isiah wouldn't have anything to do with this curiosity now, would he?" he then asked, his eyes locked on yours.
You looked away, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks. "He never meant for me to get involved, Tommy. It just kind of happened," you replied quietly, seeing how Isiah took risks and those risks involved you. 
"Listen Y/N, you are a fucking Shelby," Thomas said, his voice stern but not unkind. "And you need to be careful about who you associate with."
"But Isiah is your friend, is he not?" you asked, slightly confused with Thomas's sudden change of tone.
"Isiah works for me Love. That doesn't make him a friend," Tommy replied curtly, his gaze still fixed on you. "Despite, even if he was my friend, I wouldn't allow him to be involved with my fucking sister,"  Tommy added, the veneer of calmness cracking a bit.
You sat on the edge of the bed, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. The way things were going, it seemed as though you had made a mistake. With the tension in the room growing thicker by the second, you felt compelled to speak.
"Honestly, I don't even know why I got myself mixed up with him, Tommy," you admitted, shame coloring your voice. "I suppose I was bored," you added as an afterthought.
Thomas looked at you, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed your face. "You're better than that, Love," he finally said, his voice steady and firm. "And if boredom is what bothers you, then I am sure we can make arrangements for you to work at the betting house," he then told you a lot more gently than before, placing some stray hair behind your ear. 
"Aunt Pol won't allow it," you  said quietly, not because you didn't want to work there, but because you believed that your aunt would not approve of such an idea.
"It is not up to Pol," Thomas said shortly, his fingertips  tracing the curve of your cheek gently. "But out of curtesy, I will discuss it with her, alright?" he added after a short pause.
Before you could respond, Thomas's hand dropped from your face, and he stood up, his presence in the small room suddenly overwhelming.
"But Y/N, if you are going to continue seeing Isiah...," he began to say and you quickly interrupted him. 
"Not after today," you replied firmly. "Not after what happened at the docks. I promise," you added, reassuring your brother.
Thomas looked at you, relief visible in his eyes. "Good. I'll hold you to that Y/N," he said before leaning down to give you a peck on your forehead.
You blushed slightly, shocked by this sudden display of affection from your half-brother. But before you could react, Thomas walked out of your room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and, when you settled back on to your bed, you couldn't help but wonder what just happened. Thomas and you have always had a close relationship since him and Arthur had assumed responsibility for you after your father got arrested by the police, but you have never witnessed such a display of emotion from him before.
As you lay there in the dark, the silence was broken by the moonlight filtering through the blinds. The light cast a soothing glow on the room and made the floral quilt on the twin bed look more inviting. Your mind was abuzz with thoughts, each one trying to get a different message across. You tried to silence them and focus on the recent events.
This whole situation with Thomas, your curiosity, the sudden shift in your relationship - you knew that it was not something to take lightly. It felt different, and you could not ignore the strange tension that lingered between the two of you.
You sighed deeply and turned to face the window. It was then that you noticed the stars twinkling in the night sky ever so slightly. They were there, silent and unassuming, much like Thomas. You couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his mind.
Thomas had always been a mystery to you, even before he left for France, but now it felt like there was a whole other person behind the blue eyes that you had grown up with.
Days had passed and you indeed started working at the gambling den , which was located in the heart of Small Heath. It was a bustling place, and it was chaotic during peak hours, but you found joy in the chaos. Surprisingly, Aunt Polly did not seem to mind much; she knew that this was one of the ways to keep you out of trouble.
While you were working there, your brother Thomas kept a close eye on you and as different men attempted to flirt with you, they quickly learned that you were untouchable, a notion further solidified by Thomas’s warning glares.
On two occasions, he even threatened gamblers with a gun after you were propositioned for a date, and it was clear to you that he wasn’t playing around. Thomas Shelby never made idle threats, after all.
"You do realise that most of these men are harmless, Tommy,"  you said to Thomas one evening, after you had closed the betting shop for the night. The sky was a deep indigo and the stars were shining brightly.
Thomas looked at you, his eyes sharp and piercing. "That may be true, but you are my sister and they need to show you some fucking respect,"  he retorted, his voice steadier than before.
"But Tommy," you began, still unsure of what to make of this sudden outburst. "I am capable of handling my own affairs. I can fend them off," you assured your brother who appeared somewhat overprotective of you.
"I am sure you are," Thomas agreed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But what kind of employer would I be if I did not at least protect my employees from unwanted advances, eh?" he asked, one corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a half-smile.
"A pretty shite one I suppose," you admitted, returning his half-smile with a lopsided grin as he locked the door.
"Exactly," he concurred, shaking his head as you stepped onto the sidewalk, right by your brother's side. "Now let me walk you home. It's late," Thomas said as he always did when you worked in his betting house until after dawn. 
As Thomas and you walked side by side, the silence between you was comfortable, but there was still something that kept niggling the back of your mind. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but it seemed like Thomas was hiding something from you.
Nonetheless, as you walked to the house you shared with Polly, Tommy and the others, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to gauge what it was that was causing this strange behavior lately.
It was like he took a liking in you that almost felt, more than brotherly, but you decided not to focus on the matter and instead enjoyed the warmth of his company while it lasted.
Days passed, and your routine at the gambling den turned into sort of a normality, despite the occasional tensions between patrons and your brother that threatened to boil over.
On evening, at your house when you and Tommy were on your own, you ought to address it, his overprotectiveness and  the strange tension that kept building between you.
But, Tommy simply brushed it off and told you that he was simply concerned for your safety.
"But I am safe here Tommy, with you and the others," you reminded him, your tone gentle yet firm. "And at the gambling house, even if some of the customers are inappropriate, it is a safe place because no one would dare to fuck with you, Arthur or John and  I think you know that," you said, unable to mask the frustration that crept into your voice.
Tommy looked down at you, his gaze intense but soft. He took a deep breath before speaking, as if choosing his words carefully.
"Y/N, I know that you can look after yourself but, what I have learned over the years, is that no one is safe. Not here, not anywhere," Thomas said, his voice still firm but softer than before.
You stared into Thomas's eyes, feeling a strange mix of emotions coursing through your veins. Awe, admiration, and... something more. Something you couldn't quite put your finger on yet.
"The war changed you, you know?"  you said the words before you could stop yourself. 
Thomas sighed and looked at you, his expression filled with a mix of sadness and guilt. "Yes, I know," he admitted quietly. "I can't help it, Y/N. I've seen and done things that most people couldn't even imagine." 
You nodded, understanding dawning on you.
"No, you are right Tommy. I can't imagine," you said softly, caressing the scar on his cheek, causing Tommy to lean in closer, his eyes locked on yours. 
You felt your heart race as you looked into Thomas's eyes. There was something about him that made you feel safe, yet also intensely aware of your feelings for him. You had never felt this way about anyone before.
"But you know what's amusing though?" you murmured, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room as Thomas leaned over some more, his fingers lightly traced your jawline, you couldn't help but play along. "You are so overprotective towards me when it comes to potential suitors and there is almost no reason for you to be that way, because I never even kissed a boy before, so it just seems so absurd to me," you continued, allowing yourself to drop your guard, just a little.
"I find that hard to believe, Y/N," Thomas murmured, the pad of his thumb brushing the corner of your lips before slowly moving to trace the length of your jawbone.
Your breath hitched in your chest, hearing his low voice uttering your real name; you always felt an odd sense of familiarity from him, especially when he chose to use your given name, just for a brief moment. It almost felt like the two of you were not step-siblings. 
"No, it's true. I never kissed a boy before, Tommy," you confessed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You didn't know what had come over you, but suddenly, you couldn't help but feel drawn to your half-brother. "What is it like?" you
asked, your lips barely moving as Thomas continued to trace a path along your jawline.
"What's what like?" Thomas asked, his voice low and husky, as he leaned in even closer to you.
"Kissing," you clarified, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks as you admitted this.
Thomas seemed taken aback by the question, his gaze lingering briefly on your lips before meeting your eyes again.
"I guess it depends on who you are kissing," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Sometimes, it's just a kiss and it feels like nothing because it means nothing. But other times, it's more than that. It can be a way to express your feelings for someone. To show them how much you care about them," Thomas explained, his gaze still locked on yours.
"Do you think you could show me?" you whispered, surprising yourself with your own boldness.
Thomas's eyes narrowed as he looked at you, taking in your flushed cheeks and the way your breathing had quickened.
"Seeing that you are my sister, that would be inappropriate, don't you think?"  Thomas said, a subtle hint of amusement in his voice. 
"It's just a kiss, Tommy," you replied, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. "And no one needs to know," you continued, your heart pounding in your chest as you confessed this vulnerable part of yourself to your brother.
Thomas looked at you, his eyes searching yours as he processed your words. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and for a moment, you wondered if he was going to tell you no . But then something shifted in his gaze, a heat that made your heart race.
"Alright. Fuck it," Thomas muttered, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.
You gasped slightly, surprised by how sudden the kiss was and how soft and gentle his lips were.
Your  hands reached up to grip his arms, feeling the firm muscles beneath your fingertips as you leaned into the kiss. Thomas's other hand reached up to tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss.
Not knowing what to do, you followed his lead and when he parted his lips, you did the same before tentatively touching your tongue to his, experimenting with the new sensation. 
Your brother's lips were warm and as the kiss deepened, you felt a fire ignite within you, spreading from your core to every inch of your body. Your heart was racing as Thomas's hand dropped down from your hair, tracing a path around your neck as he deepened the kiss once more before, suddenly,  he pulled away.
You stared at Thomas, your lips still tingling from the kiss. You could see a storm of emotions raging within his eyes, but you couldn't quite decipher what he was feeling. Was it guilt? Shock? Excitement? Pleasure?
"I am sorry Love, but I have business to attend to," he told you with a horse  voice, his breathing heavy and uneven from the kiss.
You nodded, trying to catch your breath as well. You could feel a blush spreading across your cheeks as you moved away from him, giving him some much-needed space. Thomas looked at you, his eyes heated with desire, before turning away and leaving the room without another word.
Even after he had left. a jolt of pleasurable heat still lingered on your lips where Thomas’s mouth had just been, you couldn’t believe what had just happened. Your stepbrother, fucking Thomas, he had just kissed you and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about it or if you should be elated.
“You’re an idiot,” you muttered to yourself as you ran your fingers through your hair, still feeling dazed. Your mind was racing, replaying the image of Thomas kissing you, over and over again.
Your lips were still tingling from the contact, but the room felt cold and empty once he left, leaving you alone with your tumultuous thoughts.
You couldn't believe what had just happened. Thomas had kissed you. He fucking kissed you and you were the one that had asked him to do it. 
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faeome · 11 months ago
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Lustful Promises
Pairing: John Murphy x reader Summary: When you publicly humiliate John Murphy, he plans to make you pay. However, things take different turn, when unresolved feelings awake. Warnings: 18+ only! Dom!Murphy, kissing, bit of degradation, pet names, knife play, biting, fingering, loss of virginity, P in V, creampie…
Word count: 1.9k
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It was a known fact that you and Murphy hated each other more than anything. It was like a tradition for you two to fight every day. Today was no exception. You were minding your business when Murphy felt the need to ruin your peaceful solitude. He started taunting you for no reason, and he even went as far as bringing your best friend Bellamy into the argument.
“Don’t you feel pathetic when you see him fucking Roma after he is done with you?”
That was uncalled for. You and Bellamy were strictly platonic. He was your best friend’s brother, nothing more. That is why you landed a punch on his face without thinking twice. He fell on his ass from the unexpected motion, making the newly gathered crowd laugh. Bellamy quickly de-escalated the situation, but not before Murphy spat a ridiculous amount of threats at you. ‘Insane individual’ you thought to yourself.
In the evening, you took a walk in the forest, completely forgetting the incident that had happened earlier, as fighting with Murphy was already a casualty for you.
You were about to turn back for Octavia when someone covered your mouth. A strong arm enveloped your waist, and you were unable to move or scream. You tried to kick the attacker, but to no avail. He was stronger than you.
“Stop fucking kicking me!" he shouted. Oh. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of course, it was Murphy. Your destined enemy. He had followed you into the woods.
He pulled away his hand from your mouth, quickly pressing the cold knife on your throat before you could scream.
“Don’t even think about screaming,” he said coldly. You shuddered. Who knew how far this crazy son of a bitch would go to prove his point?! “Got it?” When all he got for an answer was your nod, he smirked. “Good girl.”
He manhandled you, pressing your backside against a nearby tree, the knife still to your throat. You were looking at him with so much hatred that you would not be surprised if he dropped dead.
“Not so brave now, are you?”
His voice was making you violent. You kicked him in the groin as hard as possible. The unexpected kick made him loosen his grip on the knife, but he quickly gained composure.
“Wrong move,” he said lowly, sending shivers down your spine. He quickly turned you around and painfully pressed your front against the rough surface of the tree. You were sandwiched between his hard chest and the tree. "Oww, that hurts," you groaned, but that only fueled him further as he pressed his hips against you even more. “Good. I want it to hurt.”
You were helpless. You could not overpower him, no matter how hard you tried. “When Bellamy hears about this, he’s gonna make you pay.” You tried to intimidate him. It was a pathetic attempt at regaining control, but what else could you do?!
Suddenly, you felt the cold tip of the knife pressing against your cheek. He teased you, moving it across your cheekbone and towards your lips. “IF Bellamy hears about this doll.” You moved your hips, trying to free yourself, but you stopped as soon as you felt his hardened penis pressing against you.
“Murphy I-“
He shushed you. Inching his face even closer to yours and biting your neck. You tried to compose yourself, but you could not stiffen a moan when he sucked particularly hard on your pulse point. “Just like that. Ohh, baby, you are so responsive.”
"Murphy, we really shouldn’t be doing this.” You tried to reason.
“Oh, but we are.” He responded, leaving no room for an argument. He continued kissing and biting your neck, no doubt leaving marks behind. He trailed kisses down your shoulder as he opened the zipper of your leather top, leaving you in just a bra. He unclasped it easily, roughly kissing your neck.
“Turn around,” he ordered. You hesitantly did so, your cheeks reddening.
“Shit,” he whistled lowly as he took in the sight of you. You instinctively tried to cover yourself from his gaze, but he caught your hands. “Don’t go shy on me now, baby. You were talking big just a minute ago.” He said with a sinister look in his eyes. He quickly took your nipple between his teeth, sucking on it.
“Fuckkk.” You moaned, feeling overly sensitive, as his hands and teeth twisted and bit your nipples. “Fuckk fuck fuck, John,” you were a whimpering mess. He hummed against your chest, planting a final kiss as he looked up at you. His blue eyes were darker than ever, filled with lust.
“Shit baby, you are a mess, and I haven’t even started with you yet.” He chuckled when he heard no response from you. “No sneaky responses? What did you do to the girl I knew and loved?”
“Loved?” You questioned without thinking.
“Just a saying. Don’t let that get to your head, babe.”
You scoffed, offended by his words, for whatever reason. Did you actually expect him to be gentle with you? This was John Murphy, your sworn enemy, and you were about to fuck him. Shit.
“Shit,“ but before you could finish your sentence, Murphy kissed you again. He was rougher this time, more passionate. You parted your lips, and he quickly slipped his tongue into your mouth. You broke the kiss, trying to catch your breath.
“Don’t think, baby. I know you want me, so stop fighting it. Just trust me." He placed his large palm on your lower belly, trailing his fingers further down.
“I’ve never had sex before.” You blurted out.
He stilled and looked you in the eyes.
“What?”
Damn. That was a reaction. You tried to avert your gaze, suddenly feeling too bare.
“Well, shit. That explains the attitude. Maybe you just need someone to dick you down so you can finally stop being a fucking bitch.” He spat.
“Fuck you, Murphy, you fucking asshole.”
He chuckled darkly.
"Oh, you will, baby; don’t be so eager.”
He opened the button on your shorts and helped you get out of them. You were just in your panties now, feeling the light breeze on your bare body. He pressed his palm on your pussy, stroking your clit with his thumb through the fabric of your lace panties. “John,” you moaned.
“Yeah, baby? Want me to stop?” He teased you, looking at you with innocent eyes.
“No.” You almost screamed, making him smirk. That egoistic asshole. Suddenly, he pulled your panties down, letting them pool at your ankles. His one hand was holding your waist, and his other was massaging your pussy lips.
You grabbed his shoulders roughly to help balance your already wobbly legs.
"God, baby, you are so wet. If you wanted to be fucked this badly, all you had to do was ask.” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath making goosebumps awake on your skin. His middle finger slowly pushed inside you, making you gasp. He bit down on the meeting point of your neck and shoulder as his finger slowly filled your cunt.
“Oh my god, John.” You moaned. He quickly pushed his ring finger inside you, the sudden sensation making you jolt. He held down your hips with his other hand so that you could not move.
"Fuckk, I feel so full,” you continued blubbering without a coherent thought in your mind.
“Yeah?” He questioned, as he scissored you. “Think you can take another?”
You moaned at his words. “Don’t know,” you answered truthfully.
"Sure, you can. You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you?”
You nodded eagerly, unsure where the urge to please him was coming from. He added his index finger, stretching you out further. You felt so unbelievably stretched that you weren’t sure if you would be able to take his dick. He fastened the pace, fingering you hard. You screamed when he curved his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. His thumb was circling your clit.
“I think I’m close,” you told him.
“Good,” he whispered against your ear, biting your already bruised neck. “Go on, cum on my fingers. I wanna feel your walls pulse.” His words, along with his brutal pace, put you on the edge. You came hard, not being able to control your moans. When you came down from your high, you could see John staring at you.
“You are so sexy.” He said with a smirk.
He started unbuttoning his pants, and you were about to get on your knees when he stopped you.
“Shit princess, I’d love to see you choke on my cock, but I promised to fuck that attitude out of you.”
You shivered at his words. He finally freed his cock, letting it spring free. It hit his navel. He was bigger than you imagined. You opened your mouth in surprise, almost drooling at the sight.
“Like what you see?”
You looked at him with lustful eyes. “Just fuck me already.”
"Mmm, alright,” he sensually kissed your lips as he entered you. You bit his lip hard as the stretch from his dick hurt you.
"Fuuckkk, you are so big.” He moaned at your words. You screamed as he bottomed out. He pulled out quickly, leaving just the tip, only to push inside again with brutal strength.
“Oh my god, I can't,“ but he shushed you. He was kissing you everywhere, and his hands were gripping your waist so hard that you were sure it would bruise. You felt so overwhelmed. He was everywhere. His dick was so deep inside you that you were worried about your internal organs. His scent was intoxicating, making your brain fuzzy.
“Come on, baby, cum on my dick,” he moaned into your ear. He put his forehead against yours, looking deep into your eyes. He fastened his pace, and you could feel his cock twitch inside you. You fell apart on his dick; the intensity of the second orgasm made tears fall from your eyes. He came after you, not bothering to pull out. You were shaking, barely able to stand. He put his head on your chest, breathing heavily.
“So I was your first?”
You nodded slightly.
“You liked it?” He questioned, and you hummed, too spent out to form a sentence. “Fucked you so hard you forgot to speak or what?”
You punched his shoulder lightly, not appreciating the joke. He kissed both your cheeks softly and gently pulled out. You could feel his cum leaking out of your hole, but you did not care.
“I liked it,” you said quietly.
“What? Could you say that louder?” He said, teasingly looking down at you as he stood tall, fully dressed. He helped you clean up with surprising softness.
“You cannot tell anyone about this, Murphy.” You voiced your concern.
“And why would I do that, baby?” He inched closer, fixing your messy hair.
“Promise me.” You whispered.
“I promise.” He answered you truthfully, zipping your leather top. “Sorry for what I said earlier about Bellamy.”
“I’m sorry that I kicked your ass.”
He laughed, shaking his head at your words.
Maybe he was not so bad after all.
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blue-sadie · 1 year ago
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A Little Convincing
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Imagine:
Being one of the last people to have the bracelet and siding with Clarke so Bellamy and Murphy decided to give you a little convincing when they find you alone on a late night walk.
"That's it relax against me, let us take it off then we can finish what we started yeah, it already looks like your about to cum"
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shockercoco · 1 year ago
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「 ✦Masterlist ✦ 」
Welcome, stay a while :) ~~ * smut ~~
Last updated: 6/10/2025 !
Austin Butler
Like a Snake - Feyd Rautha *
Only Pleasure Remains - Feyd Rautha *
Unconventional Confessions *
Little Do You Know
Bloodlust - Feyd Rautha*
Consequences *
Unwanted Help - Feyd Rautha
Snap Out of It
Seduction by Deception - Feyd Rautha*
No I'm Not *
What Were You Thinking
The Lucky One - Benny Cross
An Honorary Member - Benny Cross
Rainbow vs. Leather - Benny Cross
Dangerously yours - Benny Cross *
Excuse Me? - Benny Cross
Whatever It Takes - Benny Cross*
A House to a Home
Shambles - Feyd Rautha*
Callum Turner
Whiskey - Major John Egan
Modern Loneliness - Major John Egan
Cillian Murphy
Moving to Los Alamos - Oppenheimer - my 1st post
Farleigh Start
There We Go *
Untitled *
Just One More *
Glen Powell
Chasing Feelings - Tyler Owens
Nothing Like Honey - Tyler Owens*
Lewis Pullman
Alone At Last - Void*
Michael B Jordan
Peas in a Pod - Elias 'Stack' Moore
Stuck Together - Elias 'Stack' Moore New! - 6/10
Mike Faist
Cheer Up - Art Donaldson*
Necessary Revenge - Art Donaldson*
Sebastian Stan
Better Late Than Never - Bucky Barnes
That Damn Phone - Bucky Barnes
Timothee Chalamet
Don't Mind Me *
I Told You So
(Each section is oldest to newest)
❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀❀•°❀°•❀❀•
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❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•°❀°•❀ ❀•
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tjwritesfanfics · 10 days ago
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You make me see red (John Murphy)
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Pairing: John Murphy x Fem!Reader
Summary: John Murphy couldn't stand you. You were loud, in his face, and didn't know how to take a hint, but when you start distant yourself, he doesn't know how to feel about it. And then he sees you with Jasper and he REALLY doesn't know how to feel about it.
Rating: Mature 18+
Warning: Jealous and Possessive John Murphy, Jasper deserves better tbh, Manhandling, Fingering, Unprotected P in V (yall plz be safe)
Words: 2.3k
An: I needed to fuck him and this is the first smut I've written in a while so plz be nice. Honestly kind of hate how I ended this, but it is what it is.
Main Masterlist | Richard Harmon Masterlist
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John Murphy had lost count of the number of times people have had to separate you and him.
The amount of time you were in his face.
The amount of fist fights you had been in.
You were too loud and too gaudy and way too fucking nosey.
And no matter how many times he threatened your life - which was almost hourly - you kept coming back. Like a fucking masocist or something.
Whether it was asking him about his sex life - which he did have, but not like it was any of your business - calling him nicknames even though he told you not to, teasing him, pushing all sorts of buttons on him.
He couldn’t fucking take it.
And when the rage boiled over, the fist fighting would start.
“Call me that again,” Murphy growled, his hand fisting in the collar of your shirt, “I fucking dare you.”
Your smirk infuriated him. All he wanted to do was wipe it off your face.
“Aww and what are you going to do? Hmmm? Johnny boy~” You purr.
Fights like this always ended with the people that had the unfortunate luck of being near the two of you pulling you apart, Murphy’s shouts and threats echoing all throughout the camp. And usually, Bellamy would come and tell Murphy to take a walk.
“Why do you do this?” Bellamy took you to the side, trying to figure out what the hell kind of death wish you had. “You know he is just going to blow up at you.”
You shrug, but you know exactly why you did what you did. Angry Murphy was hot as hell, and you didn’t know how else to get his attention. Didn’t know how else to get him to focus on you and you alone. You hated how many women - and men - he took into his tent. It made you sick to your stomach that it wasn’t you.
Bellamy sighs. “Look, just leave him alone okay? I have been getting too many complaints and I am getting really tired of separating you two.”
“Oh, come on we aren’t that ba-” Bellamy cut you off with a glare. “Okay fine I will leave him alone.”
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It had been 3 weeks since his last encounter with you.
The first week he was relieved, finally able to get a break from your constant harassment.
The second week he got a little confused. Like he would see you around camp, purposefully square his shoulders whenever you got close to him - preparing for whatever you were cooking up - but you wouldn’t even look at him. Just continued walking past him.
He hated feeling confused. He hated when he wasn’t in control of his emotions and thoughts and now all he could think about was you. You plagued his thoughts more than usual, non-stop running on his brain.
By the third week he was getting irritated. What the fuck was going on? Were you just messing with him?
Murphy was thinking so much about you that you had started even invading his dreams. Images of you completely fucked beneath him, begging, crying, wanting nothing more than him inside you.
It was honestly messing with his head and he couldn’t even get himself off without thinking of you. His one form of release was taken over by his need for you to fucking look at him again.
God it was the most infuriating feeling Murphy had ever experienced and it hit him like a fucking freight train. He has never felt this way before and it was pissing him off to no end.
It was going into week four of his seemingly endless torture when it got worse.
He saw you with Jasper more. Your eyes sparkling whenever the little dweeb would talk, a smile forming on your lips which made Murphy’s stomach twist into disgusting little knots.
“I didn’t know you could be nice.”
“What’s that about, Murphy?” Jasper raises his eyebrow in surprise, but Murphy continues to ignore him, blue eyes focused on only you, satisfaction blooming in his chest as he sees you start to squirm a little.
“Haven’t seen you around lately. Looks like you've downgraded though.” Murphy smirks, a challenging glint in his eyes. You knew what he wanted, but you had promised Bellany that you wouldn’t fight with Murphy anymore and Jasper was really helping you quell your need to poke at him. Though as much as you did like Jasper, you knew that it wouldn’t be anywhere near the satisfaction you would get from being with Murphy.
You place your hand on Jasper’s chest when he tries to step forward, anger clearly on his face. The last thing you wanted was for this to get out of hand.
Murphy’s eyes follow your hands movement with a tick in his jaw. He couldn’t stand you touching Jasper. He couldn’t stand you touching someone that wasn’t him.
“Don’t fall for it, Jasp. He just wants to get a rise out of you.”
Jasp. You even had a fucking nickname for him? God it was making Murphy’s blood boil.
“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it Jasp,” Murphy scoffed, hands resting on his hips. “I was only joking. That’s what we do around here right? Joke?”
Before Jasper, or frankly you, could retaliate to him, Bellamy called for the two of you and effectively ending the would be fight. You look at Jasper and nudge him alone before sending a sharp glare towards Murphy and following along.
When you reached Bellamy all you could do was shrug, trying not to seem too riled up from your interaction. God you missed picking fights with Murphy, the charge of electricity that rushed through you at his taunting remarks.
Maybe there was something wrong with you for being turned on so easily by one man’s anger, but it wasn’t something you wanted to dive too far into right now.
“Before you say anything, I didn’t start it this time.”
Bellamy sighed and you could swear you could see a few gray hairs forming at his temple from stress. You felt bad for Bellamy, you really did, having to lead so many people and keep them all from killing each other wasn’t easy. Which was why you tried your darndest to stay away from Murphy, but even now you could still feel his eyes on you.
You turn slightly, just to see if you were right and were met with the blue of Murphy’s eyes. They were intense, anger and desire swinging in them. A shiver runs up your spine, a fire burning low in your belly as you could feel yourself losing your grip on reality.
“Hey,” Jasper’s voice jolts you out of your own fantasies, reminding you that you are not alone. “You okay?”
“Y yeah!” Though your voice betrayed that you were in fact not feeling fine and you were pretty sure the flush you felt did too. “I am just going to get ready for my turn on watch.”
Jasper gave you a skeptical look, but thankfully didn’t say anything as you rushed off to your tent.
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By your second hour on watch you were ready to go back. Nothing was going on, no grounders or even a mutated deer, and all you wanted to do was go back and deal with the slickness between your thighs.
Sure, you felt bad using Jasper like that, only as a dick to get yourself off on while you continued to think of Murphy, but right now your horny mind didn’t.
While lost in thought you didn’t notice the man coming up behind you until a hand covered your mouth, preventing you from screaming out, a hard body pressed against your back as it pressed you against a tree.
“Caught you, mouse.”
You whimper involuntarily. You knew exactly who was holding you, whose hard cock was pressing into your back, whose scent was enveloping your entire being. And God, were you more than happy to give into him, it had been all you ever wanted.
Murphy pressed his hips into you, growling when you pushed back. His body was on fire with the thought of you wanting him the way he wanted you, not Jasper, just fucking him.
The way it should be.
“Look at you,” He chuckled, dark and menacing, “Pressing against me like a fucking bitch in heat. Is your boy toy not fucking you good enough?”
His other hand snakes down the front of your body, fingers feather light and not enough and he knows it by the way you arch, trying to chase the feeling. He wastes no time unbuttoning your jeans, his hand sliding under the fabric of your panties, cupping your pussy, one finger parting your lower lips to feel just how soaked you were.
Murphy groaned in your ear. “God you are so fucking wet and I haven’t even done anything yet.”
His finger dips towards your entrance, gathering up some of your slick before dragging it up to your clit and circling around the sensitive bud. You moan, the sound muffled by his hand that still covers your mouth, hips bucking as he continues his assault on your clit.
You could feel your high coming fast, the feeling of his hands on your body too much to handle and he could tell it by the way your thighs shake.
And he fucking loved it. He loved the power he had over you. If someone had told him weeks ago that he would be close to fucking you up against a tree where anyone could see the two of you, he would have laughed in their face.
All it took was you looking at another man for him to see fucking red.
You were his and he was not about to let you forget that.
He let up on your clit and before you could really miss the feeling of him there, he inserted one finger into your entrance. Murphy removed his hand just to hear you moan loudly, finger thrusting harsh inside of you, though it was slightly restricted by your panties and pants, not letting him finger fuck you the way he really wanted.
“Let the whole camp hear you, mouse.” His teeth sink into your neck, leaving marks that had you moaning louder, “Let them know who fucks you the best.”
“Oh fuck!” You cry.
“Not a name.” Another finger joins the first, curling in a ‘come here’ motion. Stars explode in your vision at the overwhelming feeling, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. “Say my fucking name.”
“John!” You moan out, your high crashing into you, sending you over the edge. Your walls clench around his finger as he continues to thrust into you to the point of overstimulation. You try to move away from him, but he keeps you still until he is done with you.
You pant, head resting against the bark of the tree as he pulls his hand out of your panties, spreading his fingers to see the string of your aftermath clinging to his fingers. Murphy brings his fingers to his lips, moaning as he tastes you and it was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life, your core feeling suddenly too empty.
“Now,” He licks his lips, “for the fun part.”
With a swift movement, Murphy tugs down your pants along with your panties before quickly undoing his own belt, pushing his pants down far enough to let his hard cock spring free.
Your mouth waters at the sight of him. Not that big, but the girth of him was what you were noticing the most, a prominent vein running along the underside of his cock, precum pooling at the tip.
He presses you forward, your hands bracing against the tree, thighs spread apart to accommodate him. He presses the tip of his cock to your entrance before letting it slip down to your clit, gathering your slick on himself. You press back against him, eagerly.
Murphy smirks knowing that he was the one you were falling apart for and after this he would make sure he continued to be the only person who would see you like this.
“Fuck, John, please!” You moan, wanting him inside you so badly that it was killing your patience and who was he to deny you?
Murphy enters you with one harsh thrust. You scream at the sudden feeling of him inside of you, pressing in all the right places. The stretch fucking hurt, but felt so good all at the same time.
He didn’t even give you time to adjust to him before he pulled out so that the tip was in and thrusting back inside you, rough and borderline animalistic, his fingers gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
You grip onto the tree the best you could, drooling and moaning, your head fuzzy and all you could think about was how good it felt to finally be fucked the way you wanted, by the person you wanted.
“Don’t forget who’s making you feel this way,” He growled between thrusts, bending over you to thrust even deeper, “Who you fucking belong to. You’re mine.”
Murphy moans as he feels your cunt clench around his cock, his words having such an effect on you. He smiles into your neck. “You like that? You like knowing who’s cock is fucking you so good? Tell me who the fuck you belong to.”
“You!” You cry as he hits that spongy spot inside you that makes your toes curl in your shoes, “Always been yours! John please! Please, I am so close!”
“Me too.” He groaned, his thrusts growing faster, chasing not just your high but his as well.
A couple more thrusts and you fall over the edge, head thrown back, a scream ripping from your throat. Murphy moans at your walls clenching him, cumming inside you, holding you close when you try to escape his hold.
“Oh fuck…” He breathes into your neck. “No way am I letting you go now.”
All you could do was smile, feeling him still inside you, your legs a little shaky, because that was all you ever wanted. To be his. And all you had to do was poke at his unspoken jealousy.
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mydear-corinthian · 1 year ago
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Bait || Shelby family x reader
Synopsis: Reader went out partying and the Shelby family's enemy attacked her. Pairing: Shelby family x sister! reader Warnings: ANGST w/ comfort, reader gets injured badly, mentions of blood, stabbing, and violence, swearing Notes: rushed :C, gif is mine Click here to find the MAIN Masterlist Click here to find the PEAKY BLINDERS Masterlist
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It was just a usual night in Small Heath. Due to the boredom, you decided to go outside and maybe have a little fun.
You dressed up. A long gold dress decorated your body. A feathered hat decorated your head. And a few pearl jewelry shined your neck, arms, and ears. Grabbing your gold colour purse, you exited your room, spiraling down the wooden stairs of your family's house.
As you went down, Polly saw you. "Where you going, love?" she asked, smiling.
Grabbing a cigarette stick, you placed it on your lips, leaning to Polly as your aunt was also about to light her long black stick of the cancerous stick. "Party, Aunt Pol. I'm getting bored staying in this house," you replied, your cigarette finally lit.
The matriarch of the family took a puff of her cigarette, her serious eyes locked on yours. 
"Where? Who's going with you?" Polly asked.
"Oh, Aunt Pol.., I'll be fine. It's just 2 streets away from here. I'll be home at 2 am."
"Take care and enjoy love," she smiled, opening the door of the house's entrance, allowing you to exit the house.
<>
The only real issue was that you were wearing heels on the short walk from the house to the party location. Warm lights and vehicles adorned the spacious mansion. The estate was packed with elegantly dressed people in suits. You headed straight to the mansion's bar as soon as you got there and ordered a drink for yourself. Your heels reverberated against the bar's porcelain tiles. Men made up the majority of the crowd, and they were all too busy chatting, drinking, and trying to find women to satisfy their lusts.
"Whiskey, please," you ordered. You sat down just in front of the barman, glancing at everyone while waiting for your drink.
There were a few faces, you knew them because of your brother, Tommy and some were rich clients from the betting shop.
Finally, the barman gently placed a glass of whiskey in front of you. "Your drink, Madam."
You thanked him, picked up the glass, and sipped, letting the alcohol wash over your mouth. After placing a couple more drink orders, you made your way to the dance floor and started to dance energetically to the loud music being played. You moved your hips in time with the song's tune. You're waving your arms in the air. As you danced with the women, the dance floor was filled with a chorus of woos and laughs. Drinks were chugged into your system in tremendous amounts.
<>
You excused yourself and your new friends to go the restroom after a few hours of nonstop drinking and dancing. You were relieved that after eating at your place for a few hours, despite having numerous drinks, you were sober. You reapplied your clothing and your cherry lipstick as you straightened your hair in front of the big mirror. It's almost two, you realize as you glance at your pocket watch. Because you're the kind of person who takes responsibility seriously, is mature, and always arrives on time, Polly wasn't concerned about you going out late to party. After gathering your belongings, you put them back into your golden handbag and head out of the bathroom.
Finally saying goodbye to your new girlfriends, your heels found their way to the mansion's exit. Since you were sober already, you decided to take a walk back home.
As you walk through the dark streets of Birmingham, you cannot help but feel uneasy. You felt like you weren't alone at all. You felt that someone or somebody was following you.
And you were right.
Reaching for your pocket gun, you tried to protect yourself from the person who was following you by looking over your shoulder. You were too late, though. You were forcefully grabbed by two men, one of whom disarmed your gun. You were trapped against the wall by two rough pairs of arms, your head hitting the rocky concrete. Particularly on your stomach, you felt something cold and sharp graze your flesh, and the pain eventually got intolerable.
"What the fuck do you want!" you panted weakly, feeling a warm liquid drip on the side of your stomach.
"Just.. sending a message to your git brother," the low Irish accent sent shivers down your spine.
Campbell.
On the other hand, Polly was at the dining table, a cigarette in her hand as she watched the clock tick.
It was already past 2 and she started to get worried. You always come home on time - not even a minute late.
Polly hurriedly went to the telephone and dialed Tommy's number, her fingers shivering.
"Hello?"
"Tommy,"
"Pol? Why are you calling at this hour?"
"I-it's (y/n). She's not home yet and I'm starting to get worried. Oh God, Tommy. What if something happened to her?" Polly stammered, holding the telephone pole tightly.
"Not at home? I'll call John and Arthur." Tommy replied before ending the call.
<>
You tried to move and get out from their touch but due to the injury that you had, you were getting weaker.
"Tell your fucking boss to fuck off!" you hollered, heaving due to the pain down your stomach.
Punches rained down on you so hard you were gasping for air and screaming in pain as two strong fists crashed into your stomach and chest. Every blow sent waves of pain through your body, causing your legs to buckle and your breath to come in short, frantic gasps. Every strike was brutal, breaking your will and power in the process.
During the cruel assault, a fresh, burning pain suddenly appeared in your abdomen. Compared to previous experiences, this feeling was sharper and stronger. Frightened, you looked down to see the sparkle of a blade pressing against your body again. The man with the knife was cautious, taking his time as he carved the initials "C.C" into your flesh. The letters were an endless source of pain and abuse burned into your mind.
Dizziness was starting to get worse and worse but you paid no mind as you built up all of your strength to get up and grab your gun that was thrown on the cold hard bricks of the dark alley. Your cold fingertips pulled the trigger, emptying the bullet chamber by shooting them non-stop.
Two bodies were now on the cold floor, both lifeless, and their blood pooling out of their bodies, mixing with the hard concrete.
"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders."
Taking a deep breath at what happened, you stood up but moaned in pain after you felt the cuts and bruises all over your body. Looking down at your stomach, your dress was slit and filled with your blood.
"Jesus Christ," you muttered. Leaving your bag alone and limply walked back to the house.
Every step was a painful fight and the walk seemed to go on forever. Your back was laden with weight, and the pressure turned your spine into a throbbing rod of agony. Your single shoe scraped the uneven sidewalk, causing sharp pains to shoot through your leg with each step. As you struggled to remain straight the world around you became hazy and wobbly, and your vision became less sharp at the edges. You could feel consciousness sliding away, hovering on the edge of darkness, and every breath was a strained gasp. If you returned home without passing out, you were quite lucky.
Thankfully, you did.
Your bloodied palm opened the silver-colored knob, twisting it, and opened the door with all of your might.
There Polly was, looking at you with widened eyes. She ran towards you immediately, checking up on you.
"Dear God (y/n)! What happened to you?!"
Your body became weak due to a lack of strength in your muscles. You had a really pale face. Your dress was stained and damaged by your blood, and your hair is disheveled. Your aunt's voice fades more and further, the walls in your head beginning to swirl. After that, all you could see was darkness.
Polly caught you before your head contact with the wooden floor. Your arm limped on her touch.
The whole Shelby family including Michael, arrived at the doorstep, looking at the scene in front of them with their eyes locked and widened.
"Help me out here!"
As Polly commanded, everyone went inside. Tommy, John, and Arthur carried you gently before placing you on the dinner table that was filled with glasses and plates. Tommy removed the items on the table before Arthur placed you there. Michael and Ada quickly grabbed the first aid kit that was inside the kitchen room's wooden cabinet.
When Polly teared up your dress, she gasped.
"C.C.. Fucking Campbell," Polly's voice hissed, seeing the carved initials on your stomach, bleeding harshly.
Your breaths started to get faint and weaker, your body started to get cold.
"Stay with me, (y/n)," Ada whispered between sobs as she watched Polly do something with your wounds and help her aunt hand out the supplies that she needed.
"Fuck.. Fuck!" Tommy shouted, walking in circles as he rubbed his temples harshly.
"Arthur, John, Finn, Michael, find Campbell immediately!" he ordered.
"Bring me back his fucking head."
Michael and the brothers moved quickly, their actions a blur of rage and anger. They took immediate action after realizing this. With a mixture of terror and determination, their hands trembled as they took out their firearms from their pockets. The icy steel of the weapons was comforting, a guarantee of justice for the wrongs done.
They left the home without saying anything, the wooden door slamming shut behind them with a loud crash. They were barely aware of the sharp, biting night air. Their only thought was to locate the person who was responsible for this. 
"She isn't even part of this fucking shit and yet she was targeted,"
Polly's eyes shot daggers with Tommy's blue orbs while her hands focused on healing up the wounds all over your stomach.
"You better fucking catch him, Tommy."
As soon as Polly's done patching you up, she stormed out in front of her nephew, disappointed at him.
"I'll look out for (y/n). You heard Aunt Pol, catch that bastard," Ada said, fixing up the used cotton and alcohol before throwing it out.
Tommy sighed as he exited the house. Looking for the man who did this to you.
<>
You woke up with the sunlight beaming on you. Looking at your surroundings, you noticed where you were right away.
Slowly, you tried getting up but your body fell again, moaning in pain.
"Easy, (y/n). Don't move, your wounds are still fresh," Ada said, slowly guiding your back to allow you to lie down comfortably.
"A-Ada, I was so scared... I didn't know what was going on.."
Your eyes were starting to get wet until tears were dropping down your cheeks as you recalled what happened last night.
You were so traumatized. You didn't want to remember again. 
And that time, you knew that remembering is a curse.
"You're safe now, love. We're here now," Polly said, her arms locked with yours, giving you a comforting smile.
The door opened, and your brothers were there.
They immediately greeted you and asked how you were.
"God, love. I'm sorry that happened to you," your oldest brother, Arthur, said, gently combing your hair with his rough fingertips.
"It's okay, Arthur. I'm fine now,"
"We got him already," Finn remarked.
The gang leader showed up, his coat hanging on the chair. His footsteps echoed in the room as he approached you, placing his palms on your head.
"How are you now?" he asked, sighing.
"Fucking scared, Tom. I nearly died! This is fucked up."
"I know, (y/n). I know."
Polly stood up in the middle of the small argument, shutting the both of you. Her fists curl up like a ball, her brows knit together.
"Let her rest first, Tom. She had enough already," she said.
"I'm sorry," he apologized softly before exiting the house.
Tommy felt simply anger and guilt. Even though his sister isn't involved in the business, she was the one targeted. She's currently in there getting better from the physical and emotional trauma she recently went through.
"You're safe now, love." Polly gave you a comforting smile before asking the other Shelby siblings for breakfast. 
"Thank you, Aunt Pol."
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vervainandspritz · 8 months ago
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JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES
Thomas Shelby x Reader
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It's a little addition to the three part fic! A little closure for people who needed it!
Warnings: swearing, fluff, comfort
A/N: that's it guys, they're gonna be happy I promise
~~
If someone asked, Y/N wouldn't be able to pinpoint the moment when she started feeling like home in the Arrow house. The realisation at first made her… fearful almost, as she knew how comfortable the boys became with the house. With Tommy. They’ve spent nearly a year here since the ongoing threats from the Changrettas. Could she take these young boys away from what they’ve known? Before, Y/N was doing her very best to focus on day to day life, back when her relationship with Thomas was very difficult and… barely there. Now, on the other hand, things looked different and day by day he kept proving to her that he deserved to be a father to Nick and Tommy.
Functioning around and with Thomas grew on her more than she'd like to admit. Subconsciously, she memorised his work schedule to make sure he had something warm to eat after coming home. Whenever she wouldn't know how to handle an issue, she would come to him instinctually. No matter whether it was a serious matter, or a stubborn lid on a jar she couldn't open.
Basically, they lived like a family. Neither of them expected the shift in the air that would happen after realising that… they weren't forced to live together anymore. The threat was gone, and so was the excuse for living together despite their uncertain situation. It was easier to brush it away, having an excuse other than… the want to stay. Thomas didn't dare to touch this topic, maybe fearing he'd give her an idea to leave.
So they both pretended like the matter didn't exist.
Y/N thought about it while she scrambled around the room, looking for Nick's pants in the midst of chaos as Tommy ran around fully dressed.
”Bloody hell” She mumbled, moving around in her nightgown, not prepared at all. Guests would start arriving in about forty minutes so she had to be quick.
“There!” She exclaimed happily, pulling out the small piece of clothing from their wardrobe as she grabbed the boy to put it on. A satisfied smile appeared on her lips as she took in their appearance. Their white shirts contrasted with the dark blue suit pants and suspenders which ensured that, well… their pants would stay where they're supposed to.
As she moved towards her vanity, Y/N looked at her face to check whether her makeup that she put on while her boys were taking a nap still looked neat, letting out a sigh of relief as it was all fine. In the corner of her eye, she noticed Tommy wearing only his right shoe, running towards the door while holding the other in his hand.
”Thomas!” She yelled after him, using his full name for a better effect, which… clearly didn't work, as the boy ran out of the room.
Without a second thought, Y/N rushed after him, immediately fearing that he'd fall down the stairs.
She repeated his name, falling out of the room at high speed, and before she could react, she stumbled upon the one person she didn't expect to stand there, Thomas. He stood there, cocking an eyebrow at the way she looked with her hair up, body covered by the thin fabric.
“Got places to be?” He asked with a head tilt and grin on his lips, causing Y/N’s cheeks to turn bright pink at the way he looked at her.
“No, I–I was dressing up and he.. bolted out of the room.” Y/N couldn't hold in the giggle, seeing Tommy clutching his father's hand and still holding the other shoe, looking proud of himself as ever.
Thomas watched her carefully, secretly loving the way she scrunched up her nose while laughing.
“Don't look at me like that, Shelby. It's your fault.” She pointed out, raising her eyebrows as she put her hand on her hips, causing him to eye her once again before indulging in the banter.
“How so?” He chuckled, still standing really close, and without any intention of moving.
“First off, you went to get ready first and left me with BOTH of them,” she pointed out, counting on her fingers for a dramatic effect. “...and he's a troublemaker because of you. Like father like son,” She added with mischief, causing him to shake his head with a smile.
“Well,” He started before glancing down, “I am in fact wearing both of my shoes, he probably got it from you.” Thomas pointed towards her bare feet, making her blush more fiercely. “And haven’t you always bragged to me about how well you’ve learned to multitask?” he added.
Y/N rolled her eyes at his words, secretly enjoying the exchange.
“I have,” She responded confidently, taking a step forward to reach for the shoe little Tommy was holding, unconsciously closing up some proximity between them. As she straightened her back, she was mere inches from the man's face, gasping as he leaned closer.
“Is that right?” He said with a cocked eyebrow, seeing the way she reacted to being so close to him..
“Mhm” She nodded, trying to hide away how flustered she suddenly felt. Thomas looked at her lips for a second, before smiling and clearing his throat.
He reached a hand out to her face to lightly brush her hair back into place, causing Y/N to involuntarily let out a quiet sigh.
“I’ll have to test it at some point,” He responded in a voice a little too husky to take it as completely innocent, yet nothing bold. It delicately danced on the line she firmly set between them after moving in.
Y/N’s pupils dilated, playfully scoffing at his words, yet unable to find anything smart as an answer. It wasn't often for her to run out of things to say, but it was one of these rare moments, which clearly amused him.
A peal of laughter interrupted the moment, bursting the bubble of tension which seemed to be surrounding them throughout the whole encounter.
Thomas glanced at the small carbon copy of himself, suddenly remembering they weren't alone.
“What's so funny, little man, eh?” He asked in a softer voice, the one he was using purely with their boys.
Without an audible answer, little Tommy's hand shot up, his chubby little finger pointing towards the room.
Looking back, Y/N suddenly froze at the sight in front of them.
The briefly unsupervised Nick had climbed onto the vanity chair and applied a nice thick layer of “crimson passion” lipstick to his nose and forehead.
“As of right now, that's your son” Y/N sighed with a glimmer of humour in her eyes.
Even though it was a joke in this instance, hearing her calling the boys theirs or his always melted his heart. Back when he first discovered their existence, he wasn’t sure Y/N would ever acknowledge his role in front of them.
With a shake of his head, Thomas took a step forward, to her surprise leaning down as he kissed her temple before moving past them.
“I'll take care of them, you go get dressed. Polly and Ada will arrive in less than half an hour.”
***
The small amount of powder on Y/N’s face was the only reason why her cheeks weren't pink as she walked downstairs, catching everyone's eye. She looked radiant wearing her blue evening dress combined with the pearls adorning her neck.
Thomas stood back, watching and he couldn't help but feel almost giddy at how pretty she looked. As everyone greeted her, they moved to the dining room, still chatting, as maids slowly brought out the food and drinks. The atmosphere around the house was much lighter since the threat wasn't hanging above them like a dark cloud anymore. Ada took the opportunity to talk to Y/N about the kids, gushing over their resemblance to her brother.
Arthur and Linda arrived a little later, explaining the delay as their kids had been more fussy than usual.
Y/N listened closely as Polly talked away, trying not to get distracted by Tommy's hand on her lower back whenever she was within his reach, which was quite difficult.
Soon enough he asked the maids to look over the children, giving Y/N a wink before he and his brothers moved to the office, having to look over one of the contracts.
The women were sitting in the living room drinking and gossiping when the conversation turned toward the whole Changretta affair.
“Y/N, you must give me your new address once you and the boys move out,” Linda said with a knowing smile. “Because you're planning on moving out, right?” The straightforwardness of her allusions made the chatter die down, stirring up an awkward atmosphere.
Polly and Ada exchanged awkward glances as the entire mood of the room shifted.
“I'm sure Y/N will let you know about any changes should they occur” Polly replied with a warning tone.
“Should they occur? I don't understand. I thought she only lived here for protection, not to live in sin,” said Linda, glancing around their faces as she raised her eyebrows in surprise. Linda was always bold with her words, but
“I think you've said enough, Linda” Ada coldly said as she glared daggers at her sister-in-law. Y/N rubbed her hands against her lap, looking around nervously. Finishing up her tea, she got up from the couch, thanking them for coming.
“It's about time for my boys to get ready for bed. I think I should go check on them and Frances. Please excuse me” Y/N said with a growing blush of embarrassment and fury on her face. Polly saw how nervous this exchange made her, so didn't dare to try and stop her, instead glaring eloquently at the blonde woman.
Being just around the corner, Y/N overheard the last few sentences.
“What?” Linda asked with a huff, “These were her words at the beginning, don't you remember? Plus they're not even Shelby's technically.” She offered with annoyance, lighting a cigarette and inhaling the smoke as the older woman got up angrily, pointing towards her face.
Y/N walked away before Polly's heated response came to her ears, scooping up Tommy and grabbing little Nick by the hand, as he rubbed his eyes with his fist.
“Let's get you two to bed, hmm?” She said in her softer voice, feeling Tommy nodding against the crook of her neck.
“Noooo” Nick replied in a sleepy voice, watching his steps intently with half lidded eyes, as to not trip over any stairs. Y/N just smiled under her breath, his stubbornness reminding her so much of his father.
After changing them into pyjamas, she managed to put them both to bed despite some fussing from Nick, as expected. She couldn't help but spend a few minutes watching them sleep so peacefully, feeling relief that they were both happy and content.
Standing up from the bed, Y/N froze for a second, only then noticing Thomas standing in the doorway, watching over them calmly.
“What happened?” He asked begrudgingly as soon as the door behind them closed, his eyes scanning her face in search of truth. Y/N didn't meet his gaze, looking ahead as she hugged herself lightly.
“Nothing happened, it was a nice evening” she replied in a tone that didn't even sound convincing to herself.
“It's still early, they're all downstairs.” He pointed out, raising his brows, fully knowing she wasn't being truthful.
“Boys were sleepy,” She pointed out, finally looking at him. He blinked a couple times, before narrowing his eyes.
“Alright,” he eventually said, “They're asleep, so let's join everyone downstairs then” his voice suggested a challenge in his tone, as he tried to get her to… start talking. Y/N sighed with annoyance at his digging, knowing damn well how stubborn he was.
“No, I just–” she stopped, pulling back ”I don't feel good–” Y/N offered but Tommy cut her off,
“It's what she said, isn't it?” His voice was rougher, eyes carefully studying her expression, which was enough to know the answer. “Polly told me,” Immediately added to the question she had written all over her face.
Letting out a sigh, Y/N looked towards the stairs, hearing fairly loud voices from downstairs, making it all the difficult to process her feelings. His eyes followed hers, sensing the anxiety she was feeling. He knew her too well.
“Let's not talk about it here, come on” Thomas said finally, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards his bedroom. Y/N let him lead her, quietly shutting the door behind as he walked further into the room. She crossed her arms, looking in his direction.
“She's not wrong,” Hardened expression and weak voice were giving away her mixed feelings on the matter, but Tommy let her speak. “I should–should find an apartment somewhere, and go back to work… We're not in danger anymore. We should go.”
Her words created some serious chaos in his head, as he watched her face for a longer minute. Eyes frantically grazing over her expression, unsure whether she was serious. Turning around, Thomas let his gaze drop to the floor as he came up to the window, searching for answers to the questions that weren't even asked.
Not directly. Again this fucking uncertainty, he thought, tired of dancing around the situation they didn't address for so long. The realisation dawned on him, as he felt the real threat of losing them. Of losing her again.
Facing her again, Thomas looked her in the eyes boldly, taking a step forward.
“Did I cause that? Have I don't something wrong that makes you want to leave?” His voice steady, demanding a direct answer. “Tell me what's missing and I'll fix it.”
Y/N groaned with frustration, stepping closer to the wardrobe, creating some distance between them that she do desperately needed to think clearly.
“No, Tommy, it's not that— fuck” she cut herself off with a sigh, looking for the right words. “You didn't do anything wrong, it's just… just not—”
“I don't want you to go.” He said suddenly, cutting her off as she fell silent, looking at him with wide eyes. “I can't stand the thought of losing you again, and.. and this” He pointed towards the door, referring to the situation that took place downstairs. “Should have never happened in the first place. I can't stand this fucking distance. Knowing I can't touch you, that i–i can't kiss you despite having you right here.” His voice grew rougher with simmering anger, directed to nobody but himself. “Having you sleep in another room even though your fucking place is by my side.” He took a step forward, looking in her eyes with emotions swirling in his mind. “Knowing that I have no right to keep you here, and.. and after what i did, I will never deserve you.” He said quieter, reaching for her cheek “But I'm selfish, and I can't let you go when you're standing right here, Y/N. I'm tired of hiding how crazy I am about you.” Tommy's eyes were fixed on her lips, as he licked his own, feeling the sudden dryness in his throat. “But uncertainty is the worst, so… so tell me. I need to know—”
This time, Y/N pressed her lips against his, closing her eyes. Her hand gripping onto his vest, feeling his heart thumping beneath her hand. Kissing him slowly, without any rush, as his words rang in her ears.
“Please” He said weakly as she finally pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. Y/N’s hand combed through his hair, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body.
“Please, don't break my heart, Tommy.” She whispered, feeling the weight easing off of her chest. “Because I won't survive being punished for loving you again.”
Taggin my people: @iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @honeymoon8 @chaimaarouaine11 @hatethis29 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @preparedfruit @emptyvoidofmine @dornishannie
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jtargaryen18 · 2 months ago
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The Arrangement ~ Chapter 9
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Series Masterlist
Words: 9.5k
Pairing: Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders) x Reader F
Warnings: Yearning, Tommy being a grump, Rory being adorable, smut
You're back home in Birmingham, recovering and getting ready for another wedding. This chapter is all comfort, yearning and smut. Then, we're back to the gas pedal as the Changrettas emerge. Enjoy!
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It had been three weeks. Three calm, steady weeks, something you hadn’t realized you’d been craving until it finally settled in around you like a blanket in the cold. 
You were still sequestered in Tommy’s room, but this time, you didn’t mind. The walls no longer felt like prison bars. The sheets no longer smelled foreign. And the silence was no longer the kind that came before the storm. It was peace, or something close to it.
That first week, Tommy tried hard not to leave the house. Outwardly, he acted like it was nothing, cool and composed. He made it seem like he just happened to have a few things to sort through at home. But you weren’t blind. You saw the way he moved a little slower in the mornings, how he lingered at the door longer than necessary. The way he'd straighten his cufflinks at the window just so he could steal glances at you from the corner of his eye.
Instead of rushing off to the betting shop early as he had in the past, he started bringing work home, ledgers, contracts, letters he dictated to someone named Lizzie, but insisted on reviewing himself. He set up at the desk in the corner of the bedroom, always within reach but pretending not to hover.
You’d pretend too, for his sake, closing your eyes and letting him believe you were sleeping while he sorted through papers, the quiet scratch of his pen the only sound between you. But you felt him. You felt the way the air shifted when he looked up from his work just to make sure you were still there.
Those early mornings had been hard. It didn't take long once you woke up for nausea to cramp your stomach, send you scrambling off the bed to the basin kept at your bedside for that purpose. Most days, it was just bile. You'd be sitting there on your knees, shaking and trying to get your stomach to calm. 
And Tommy... he stayed. There he was helping you off the floor, ready with a glass of water. It would be mere minutes before one of the maids would come in to retrieve the basin for washing, another came in with a tray with a light breakfast, served quietly like you were someone special. It hadn't taken you long to figure out that if you didn't at least try to eat something, he was just going to keep hovering. 
When encouragement alone wasn't working, and you were trying, he started bargaining with you. Tommy knew you wanted to get back into the world to see Small Heath again, to visit your mother or Rory. He didn't need to remind you of everything that had happened before. No one said much to you about it but the last people heard, you'd been handed over to the Shelbys on a coin toss. Then you just disappeared. Your stepfather beat your mother severely, and then she disappeared. Whatever had been done to your stepfather, and you knew neither Tommy nor Rory were telling you that, people saw something or heard about it. Rumors grew of what a mistake it was to cross the Shelby family. Then Rory became a Blinder, and tongues had to be wagging over that. 
You knew all of that. But Tommy would still reiterate how you weren't safe after all of that. Not until the wedding was announced and all of Birmingham found out that you weren't fair game. You were marrying the king of the city. You weren't safe until that was known, until you were protected by his name and his ring on your finger. Then he'd point out that the wedding could take place as soon as you were back on your feet. 
“Just a little,” he’d say in that low voice, nodding towards the tray that had been brought for you. “Once you've got something down, you'll feel better.”
Like he'd ever been pregnant before.  
But, damn him, he was right. By the end of the first week, the nausea wasn't an all-day affair any longer. The early morning nausea wasn't as bad either, but still there some mornings. Tommy always stayed right there just long enough to make sure something had stayed down. Then, and only then, would he head to the betting shop or whatever meeting waited for him. And that was after Polly shooed him out the door with one of her trademark sighs.
“She’s not going to wilt the moment you’re gone, Thomas,” she’d scolded more than once.
He didn’t argue. But you saw the look he gave Polly every time. That wariness in his eyes that hadn’t quite gone away since the day he carried you out of the church.
Nadya came by each day like clockwork. The woman was sharp-eyed and unbothered by anyone else’s authority in the house, not even Tommy’s. She looked you over and each time, she seemed a little more pleased with your progress. The grim expression she’d worn the first time she laid eyes on you, thin and hollow with worry, was easing. She still frowned at your weight, still clucked her tongue at hearing your appetite was faltering, but there was a new patience in her manner.
“It will come back,” she said once, almost gently, as she pressed a warm hand to your stomach. “The body remembers how to heal when it’s given the chance.”
Tommy never asked for a report in front of you, she always came by while he was off working. But you knew he spoke with her somewhere each day about your condition. Nadya would recommend fresh lemons for your water or tea to help ease the nausea so you could eat. The next day, they were served to you with every meal. 
But little by little, you were getting stronger.
You saw your mother each day and Rory most days, their visits helped you immensely. Your mother always came with something tucked under her arm, a bundle of mending from her shop, or some small project to keep your hands busy. She said it was for the sake of the shop, but you knew better. She knew you needed something to do, something to remind yourself that you were still useful. And you were grateful for it. 
Rory usually dropped by late in the day, just long enough to pull up a chair, arms crossed, easy as ever. He talked about fixing up the house where you’d both grown up, where he and your mother were living again, like it was a simple thing. Like reclaiming it would stitch up everything else.
“Got the roof looked at,” he said one afternoon, a little proudly. “They’re patchin' it up proper before the next winter sets in. Won’t have to worry about leaks.”
You looked at him carefully, fingers pausing where they smoothed a scrap of cloth in your lap. “Really?” you asked, softer. “You’re really okay out there?”
Rory gave you a look, one you recognized from when you were both much younger and he’d lie about a skinned knee just to keep you from worrying. But this time, there was no lie in it. Just a steady, quiet kind of certainty. “We’re good,” he said, nodding firmly. “Better than we’ve been in years.”
You exhaled slowly, grateful that your mother had healed and could do what she loved. Now she was protected by Tommy. You didn't know if anyone had come around asking questions, fodder for gossip. She wouldn't tell you that. But she'd never lack for money ever again, not if either you or Rory had any say. And Rory was doing well for himself. There was a satisfaction about him that you'd never seen before. Like he was now where he was always meant to be.
Rory nudged your foot gently with his boot, a crooked grin playing at his mouth. “House feels like ours again,” he said. “Feels like Dad’s still watchin' over it, somehow. Like it’s right.”
You blinked against the sudden sting in your eyes, swallowing hard. 
Rory never could leave a heavy moment alone for too long, and he added, "And you'd better get yourself well enough to come see it soon. Tommy’s not the only one expectin' you to listen to orders, y’know.”
You huffed a laugh, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t help the warmth that bloomed quietly in your chest. To your mounting annoyance, Rory took every chance to drop some variation of the same warning, always casual, always with a smirk. “Eat somethin’. He’s already scary enough without you givin' him more reasons.” It was infuriating and endearing all at once. Rory, standing solidly behind Tommy’s back like a proper Blinder.
You raised a brow at him, lips twitching despite yourself. “What do you mean he’s scary?” you asked, voice light but curious. Before, yes, he'd terrified you. But now not at all.
Rory leaned back in the chair he'd dragged to your bedside, arms crossing over his chest like he was settling in to explain something you should’ve already known.“I mean he’s Tommy Shelby,” Rory said plainly. “The man carries a storm around with him. You can feel it when he walks into a room. And lately?” He gave a low whistle. “Lately it’s worse. Like he’s ready to tear the world apart if anyone so much as flinches wrong.”
You swallowed, suddenly very aware of the way your heart gave a little jump at the thought.
Rory’s gaze softened a little, catching the look on your face.“He’s not scary with you,” he added after a beat. “He’s careful... It's somethin' else to see.”
A small, unsure smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. You weren’t sure you deserved that kind of loyalty, from Tommy or from Rory. But you were starting to wonder if maybe… just maybe… you could try harder. You weren’t used to people looking out for you like that. It unsettled you a little. But it also warmed something inside you that you hadn't dared touch for a long time.
By the third week, thinking about Tommy’s hovering and Rory’s not-so-subtle suggestion, you’d started eating better. It wasn’t easy, not when the nausea still came and went like an unwanted visitor, but you made the effort. And Polly, ever sharp-eyed, noticed.
“Glad to see you takin’ better care of yourself, love,” she said one afternoon, pouring you tea with a certain approving glint in her eye. “You’ve got more than yourself to think about now.”
Tea with Polly became a ritual you looked forward to. Some days Ada came to visit from London, the baby balanced on her hip, bringing a brightness to the room that was hard to resist. She teased you gently, laughing about the joys and terrors of motherhood to come with dirty nappies, sleepless nights, and more love than you ever thought possible. And, slowly, you started looking forward to it too. You stopped seeing yourself as a girl caught between worlds and started imagining yourself as a mother. As his family.
It was during one of those easy afternoons that your mother arrived, flustered but smiling, a worn sewing basket in hand. You'd dressed today in one of Ada's dresses and came downstairs to the sitting room. A part of your efforts to get better. You straightened from your seat near the window, brushing crumbs from your lap.
“Mum? What’s all this?” you asked, eyeing the basket warily. 
Mary set the basket down carefully. “I’m here to measure you,” she said, her voice lighter than usual. “For all your new clothes and... your wedding dress.”
Shaking your head, you knew a moment of panic. “Mum, no. You don’t have to--”
She cut you off with a gentle look, the kind she used to give when you were small and stubborn.“It’s what Tommy wants.” Her hands stilled over the sewing kit. “He wants me to dress you like a proper lady in Birmingham. He’s paying for all of it.”
And knowing Tommy, he was also paying your mother very well for her efforts. 
Across the room, Polly and Ada exchanged a knowing glance. Ada’s smile softened, and Polly gave a tiny, approving nod, like they’d both known all along this day would come. It was a small thread of hope winding itself through you, and it had been a long time since you had any.
Now Tommy pulled you into his world, and he was dressing you for the part.
Ada grinned wide as she rocked her son gently. “He’s already started planning that wedding,” Ada said, winking. “Sounds like he’s planning a bloody royal coronation.”
That's when the realization hit you. It wasn’t just talk. Tommy wanted to marry you.  
Your mother opened her sewing kit, pulling out a measuring tape with trembling hands. She tried to keep you from seeing it, but you did. You saw the way her eyes were misting up.
“Stand up, love,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion that she was trying very hard to hide. “Let’s get these measurements before I get too weepy to see straight.”
You rose slowly, smoothing your hands down your borrowed dress, and suddenly felt the weight of the moment. As she worked, measuring your expanding waist, your arms, and the curve of your back, her fingers lingered longer than necessary, like she was committing every part of you to memory. Like this was a moment she never thought she'd get to see.
“I always dreamed of this,” she murmured as she measured your shoulders, her voice barely a whisper. “You, standing there, about to be a bride.” She glanced up at you, her smile wobbling but proud. 
You swallowed hard. Because you didn’t see it the way your mother did. You weren’t sure you were worthy of any of it, the protection, the future Tommy Shelby was giving you like it was something you deserved. Part of you still clung to the past, to the mistakes, to the weight of everything that had happened. You didn’t feel like someone to be cherished. So much of what happened had been your fault.
But your mother was happy and hopeful. So you didn’t say anything, you just smiled, and let her have it.
“I just wish Malachy could’ve been here to see it,” she said after a moment, her voice thick with old grief. “He would’ve been so proud of you, love.” The tape slid from her hands for a moment, and her fingers brushed your arm in a mother’s steadying touch, stronger than the ache that lingered between words left unsaid.
From the window, Polly made a small noise, half sigh, half huff, as if to clear the lump from her own throat. “He sees it, Mary,” Polly said, her voice rough but certain. "A man like that, a father like that... he’s watchin’. Probably threatening Tommy from the afterlife to make damn sure he doesn’t screw it up.”
Ada snorted a laugh that she tried to smother against the baby’s hair. You had to laugh too. Somehow Polly made even the unbearable parts lighter.
Polly crossed the room with a purpose, snatching the tape measure from where your mother had set it down. “We’re not stoppin’ there, mind you.” She flicked the tape against your hip lightly, the way a woman might swat a child with a dishtowel, affectionate but commanding. “We’ll need the finest silk Birmingham’s got. And lace. Real lace. None of that cheap rubbish.”
Ada grinned over the top of the baby’s soft hair. “Better pick quick,” she said, teasing you. “Won’t be long before you’re really showin', and Tommy won’t want to wait.”
“Mark my words,” Polly added, her eyes dancing as she turned back to you. “He’ll want you married proper and soon. Before he has to commission a second gown to fit around that belly.”
The laughter that rose around you was warm, filling up a space inside you that had been empty for far too long. It wasn’t the perfect story you’d imagined once, long ago. It was rough around the edges, messy, and marred by everything you and Tommy had survived.
But it was yours.
It was then that you realized you weren’t as scared anymore. You weren’t just surviving anymore. You were wanted and loved. And soon, the whole bloody world was going to know it.
Your mother finished adjusting the fabric around your waist, then set her hands lightly on your shoulders. She stood there a moment, looking at you, not the dress, not the measurements, but you. “You’re gonna be beautiful, love,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Now let’s get to work,” she said with a wink, reaching for the fabric.
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Tommy didn’t lift his head from the papers spread across his desk, but his pen stilled over the ledger. He’d been aware, keenly aware, that Arthur, John, and Rory hadn’t been talking about business for the past several minutes. Their voices had dropped, gone casual in a way that always signaled some topic not meant for the boss’s ears. He didn’t miss the way Rory’s glance kept sliding toward the door, or how John shifted in his chair, restless.
It was an improvement over the conversation about Angel Changretta. John had spent a good ten minutes growling about the Italian prick, voice sharp, words laced with venom. He’d rattled off a dozen reasons why he hated the man from his suits and hair, to the way the man talked and smiled. But none of it rang true. The real problem, the one John wouldn’t say, was that Lizzie Stark was seeing him. And John, even though he was still married to Esme, was jealous.
And then he heard his girl's name. His knuckles tightened around the pen. But still, he said nothing. Tommy learned a long time ago that some truths you had to let come to you. 
Then Arthur’s voice broke through, rough and unceremonious, dragging Tommy’s full attention like a hook under the ribs. “She’s lookin’ better,” Arthur said, tossing it out like a simple fact, but his gaze was steady. “Carried that sewing machine down to the sitting room all by herself yesterday. Smilin’, even.”
Without a word, he rose from the desk. He didn’t bark orders or look back. Just moved with that quiet, deliberate force that made men shift out of his way without thinking.
Behind him, he caught Arthur’s voice muttering low to John and Rory. "Christ, why’d I open my mouth..."
Tommy didn’t slow or even acknowledge then. Worried? Aye, he was. The thought of her overexerting herself, of risking her health and the child’s, twisted something sharp and brutal in his gut.
But beneath the worry, there was something else. Anger. Not the kind that burned wild and reckless. No, this was colder, deeper. Not directed at her, but at the world that had forced her to think she had to prove herself. To make herself useful. Even now and after he'd told her he wanted her to focus only on getting well.
She should’ve known she didn’t have to lift a bloody finger. She could’ve asked. He would’ve carried that heavy machine wherever she wanted it himself.
The last three weeks had been a slow kind of torture. Oh, things were better. She was back home, sleeping In his bed next to him, curled against his side with one hand curled protectively over her growing belly. She ate, if reluctantly and smiled sometimes. 
It was worse those first few mornings. The first time he saw her doubled over, hovering over the basin Polly found, he'd had to step into the hall for a minute. Not because he was angry or disgusted. Because he was helpless. He could command armies of men with a glance, could order blood to spill and cities to kneel. But he couldn’t do a damn thing to make this easier for her, to make her better. And it hollowed something out in him.
She’d wake up trembling, sometimes not even able to sit up without help. He learned early not to speak too quickly, not to crowd her. He'd just sit beside her, offering a cloth for her forehead, a hand at her back when she was sick. Sometimes, he sat behind her, letting her lean back into him. He'd started hearing from Polly that the sickness was going away during the day, and over the last few days, there were a couple of mornings when she wasn't sick at all. Polly told him that morning sickness usually didn't last the entire pregnancy and Ada, now that she was speaking to him again, backed up her statement.
It should’ve been enough to steady him. But it wasn’t. Every time he looked at her, Tommy saw the wreckage he’d caused. And for all his careful planning, all his power, he couldn’t undo it. 
Tommy hadn't slept much, even when she slept peacefully beside him. He hadn’t trusted anyone else to look after her, so he brought paperwork upstairs, spread ledgers and shipment manifests across the big oak desk in his bedroom, pacing between figures and the slow rise and fall of her breathing. He told himself it was about her health and that of the baby.
But deep down, he knew the truth. He couldn’t stand the thought of her needing him and him not being there.
And every day, as the shadows under her eyes faded, her body began filling out, and the little life they made grew stronger inside her, he knew he was more hers now than he'd ever been his own.
The chilly slap of winter's last wind caught his coat as he crossed the courtyard toward the house, boots hitting the stone with deliberate strides. Tommy pressed his palm flat to the mansion’s front door for a beat, steadying himself, before pushing it open. The weight of it all pressing against him, love, protectiveness... frustration. It wasn’t just about the sewing machine. It was about her mindset.
The door swung open with a quiet groan. Inside, the house was warm, firelight flickering along the dark wood paneling, casting soft gold over the walls. Voices drifted faintly from somewhere upstairs, likely Polly going about her day. He hung up his coat and cap, listening to the sounds of his household.
But it was the low, steady whir of the sewing machine that pulled Tommy’s gaze toward the sitting room. He found her there. Sitting by the front window where the afternoon light poured in, her head bent over the fabric, hands moving carefully, methodically. The damned machine sat like a stubborn old soldier between them, ticking and humming like it remembered it was alive.
She hadn’t seen him yet, wearing a dress he thought Polly had altered for her newly changing figure. Now he realized it was more likely she'd done it herself. It fit her lightly now, soft at the waist. She was still thinner than he wanted, but she looked a little more vibrant each day. The set of her shoulders was more relaxed than it had been when she returned.
Tommy blew out an exhale, battling relief and fury. There was maybe a little pride in there too that he couldn't have untangled if he tried. He stood there for a long moment, unnoticed. Just watching her. And then, because he couldn’t fucking help himself, he crossed the room with slow, deliberate steps, the floor creaking under his boots.
She looked up sharply at the sound, eyes wide, then softening. It was that shy, unsure smile blooming across her lips. It nearly knocked him off his feet.
He stopped a few feet from her, voice low and rough with all the things he wasn’t saying. "You are supposed to be restin’."
She blinked up at him from the sewing machine, hands still resting lightly on the fabric. "I was resting," she said, almost sheepishly. "And then I wanted to finish this while the sun was still up."
She sounded defensive, but not afraid. It was an important distinction Tommy didn't miss. Still, he stepped closer, slow and deliberate, like he was approaching a skittish colt.
"Carrying that damn machine down the stairs?" he asked, a little firmer than he intended. "You could've called someone. You could’ve bloody well waited." It wasn’t anger lacing his voice. No, it was worry, stripped raw and sharp-edged.
Her smile faltered. "I didn't want to bother anyone," she murmured, glancing down. "Especially not since you're all doing so much for me every day."
Tommy crouched slightly in front of her, one hand braced lightly on the edge of the table beside the machine. "You're not a bother," he said firmly. "Not to me. Not to any of us... You're carrying my child. That makes you the most important person in this house."
Her eyes welled, but she blinked fast, looking away like she was trying not to make it worse. Tommy’s fingers reached out, gently gripping her chin and turning her face back to look at him. 
"Your life is different now," he said, quieter now but his frustration still bled out. "You don’t have to do everything by yourself or struggle. You don't have to work long hours to survive. Do you understand? As my wife, you're only concern is taking care of our children and--"
Tommy stopped himself before he could say it. Me. If he had said it, she would have taken it mean he expected her to be a good wife, supportive. And he did. But that's not where that thought ended and he needed to get those urges under control right now. He had to remind himself he couldn't have her right now.
He redirected his thoughts back to the other side of the problem. How she saw herself fitting into a new life. The weight of it, all the years she’d spent surviving with her mother and brother, settled between them. But Tommy wasn’t afraid of that weight. He meant to carry it.
She opened her mouth, maybe to apologize again, but he shook his head.
"No more sorries," he said roughly. "Do what I tell you. Just let me look after you. Yeah?"
She nodded then, looking contrite.
Tommy straightened slowly, tracing his fingers over your cheek. Motioning to the machine, he smirked. "Finish that," he said. "Then you’re finished for the day. Orders from the top."
And somehow, her soft laugh, eased the tension flooding him just a little. 
Tommy lingered there for a moment longer, watching her fingertips brush lightly over the fabric she’d been working on. The stubborn little crease between her brows was gone and her shoulders were relaxed now. Maybe he'd been a bit harsh, showing up like this. Maybe he should have trusted her to know her own limits.
But then again... maybe a reminder wasn't the worst thing. She needed to know nothing she did, not a stitch, not a sigh, escaped him. And if it made her think twice next time, made her more willing to lean on him instead of trying to carry the world alone, then maybe he'd start sleeping again. 
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Nadya tapped lightly on the bedroom door before letting herself in, her satchel tucked under one arm. A wide smile already spread across her weathered face as she looked at you.
You had just finished a nap. You were sleepy all the time now. You shifted on the edge of the bed, trying to sit a little straighter. There was something about her presence, earthy and steady, that made you want to be stronger.
"You look better," she said, approval clear in her tone even before she set the bag down. "Your weight is better. There's more light in your eyes."
You smiled. You had fought for this recovery. Every mouthful of food that stayed down, every slow, careful walk down the hall, every quiet afternoon stitching dresses your mother and Polly brought to you by the basketful.
You were careful, though. Careful not to work late enough for Tommy to catch you still sewing. If he did, or if he even suspected you’d been there for hours, he’d assume the worst. Best case? He’d crouch down beside your chair, his voice low but firm, lecturing you with that razor-edged concern he couldn’t quite hide anymore. Worst case? He wouldn’t say anything at all. He’d just get quiet and that heavy, brooding sort of silence filled the whole room like smoke. And somehow, somehow, that was always worse.
So you were cautious. You were stronger now. But you were also smart enough to know that Tommy's patience, when it came to you, wasn't a bottomless well. It was a fierce, fragile thing, and you treasured it.
Nadya examined you. She checked your vital signs, your tummy, feeling for signs that everything inside was progressing the way it should. You held your breath without meaning to until Nadya’s mouth tugged into a small, approving smile.
"You’ve been doing everything I asked," she said, nodding with satisfaction. 
Your tension eased a little after hearing her assessment.
"You keep this up," Nadya added, straightening, "and you’ll be ready for that wedding soon enough."
Wedding. The word landed differently now than it had weeks ago. It felt less like a noose, more like a promise. You managed a small smile, though your heart thudded unevenly. Because ready or not... it was coming. And this time, you would walk toward it with your head held high. Or try to.
Once she was done, Nadya sat back in the chair beside the bed. She watched you for a long moment, weighing something. Then, with a small smirk, more sly than kind, she said in Romani-accented English, “You may resume relations with your husband... when you're ready.”
That had heat rushing to your cheeks. “I...” you stammered, looking anywhere but at her. "He'd probably be afraid he'd break me or something..."
Nadya chuckled, tucking everything into her bag. "Not for long. A man like that one... He looks at you like a starving man."
She laughed again when you buried your face in your hands.
“Best get your rest while you can, little one,” she said, winking as she headed for the door. “You’ll need it.”
And with that little parting shot, Nadya headed for the door, leaving you flustered but with some things to think about.
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Tommy’s pen stilled again, tension bleeding into his shoulders as Arthur and John hovered outside his office, whispering like a pair of schoolboys afraid to poke a bear. Finally, with a sharp sigh, he barked, “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
Arthur shifted uneasily, glancing at John like he was hoping his younger brother would do the talking. John didn't disappoint.
"Look, Tom," John said, leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. "We know the weddin’s close. Couple weeks, yeah? But at the rate you're going... you’re not gonna make it three more days. None of us fuckin' are."
Tommy had no patience for this. "And what’s that supposed to mean?"
Arthur opened his mouth, stalled as they walked into his office, and John just powered through, blunt as ever. "She's carrying your kid, mate. Pregnant women... they can still do things, you know? Put a man out of his misery."
Arthur winced like he'd been struck. John gave him a look that said what?
And that was exactly the moment Rory strolled in through the door, having caught just enough to stiffen like he’d been slapped. 
"The fuck did you just say about my sister?" Rory snapped, his voice low and dangerous as he marched right up to John. "Eh?"
Arthur put his hands up immediately, stepping between Rory and John. "Easy, lad. It’s not like that."
Rory’s eyes burned into John’s, jaw clenched tight. And while John would tell anyone he wasn't afraid of taking on Rory, his body language said otherwise. Rory grew more fearless and dangerous by the day.
John, for once, looked like he was regretting his lack of filter. "What I meant," John said quickly, "is that it’s...natural. Happens all the time. I should know, I've got four kids and one on the way. When the missus is far enough along and feelin' better, sometimes a man--" He caught Arthur’s glare and wisely shut his mouth.
Tommy, behind the desk, simply leaned back in his chair, his arms folding slowly across his chest, watching the chaos he hadn't even had to cause this time. Just watched Rory fuming and Arthur trying to calm him and John trying, badly, to explain himself. Watching them, he didn't feel anger or even irritation. It was something closer to... relief.
Even with all the chaos, the sharp edges and raised voices, the display of loyalty pleased him. Rory, stepping in like a man ready to throw fists for his sister’s honor. Arthur, clumsy but trying to defend her too. John, an idiot sometimes, but with the right heart underneath all that roughness. His family. His girl’s family now too. And it grounded him more than he wanted to admit. As he sat there behind the desk, he realized he wasn’t holding everything up by himself. What if he was allowed to look forward to the life they were building instead of constantly bracing for it to fall apart?
Still... he wasn’t about to let them see that softness. 
Clearing his throat sharply, he said, deadpan, "John, shut your mouth before the lad finishes what he started."
Arthur laughed, Rory huffed but stepped back, and even John gave a sheepish grin. And just like that, the tension broke.
Tommy felt something like hope. The kind of hope that scared a man like him more than any gun ever could. He'd always had something to lose, his own family, who were worth more than money, power, or even reputation. Now his family was expanding. The girl he loved and the child he hadn't even met yet. He had a brother-in-law who would bleed for him. He had a mother-in-law who looked at him like he was a decent man, even when he didn't believe it himself.
All of them mattered more than anything he’d fought for in Small Heath. He would burn the whole bloody world down before he let anyone take it away from him.
It was almost sunset, and he decided to call it an early day, grabbing his coat and cap and heading out of the betting shop. 
"Think about what I said!" John called after him. 
How could he bloody not think about it? 
As his girl regained her strength, his mind dove straight into the gutter. It had literally been months since he'd last had her, and no one but himself to blame. But his needs had started bleeding in far more often than he would like. Memories of when they'd been together, so many dirty thoughts of what he wanted to do with her. And as the days stretched on, with the added worry of returning her to health and the wedding coming up, Tommy knew he'd been the devil to deal with over the last couple of weeks to everyone, sometimes even a little impatient with her when he didn't need to be.
He found Nadya where she normally was at this time of day, enjoying a spot of tea in the shop her brother owned. Tommy leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, arms folded loosely across his chest, watching as Nadya packed away the last of her tools into her battered leather satchel. She glanced up, those sharp Romani eyes narrowing slightly in amusement.
"You wanted to confirm it with me, didn’t you?" she said, snapping the bag shut with a definitive thud.
Tommy’s brow furrowed, the faintest crease between his eyes. "Confirm what?"
Nadya smiled, a sly knowing smile that made him feel like a boy caught stealing sweets from a market stall.
"I told her today," she said casually, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "She’s well enough now. Even for those activities."
Tommy's face didn’t move, working hard at not reacting to her words. His body was a different story. "You think I need your permission for that?" he asked coolly.
"No," Nadya said simply, brushing past him toward the hall. She stopped, turning her head to pin him with a look both maternal and amused. "You’ve been patient with her. But you don't have to treat her like glass anymore."
Tommy stayed in the doorway a moment after she left, the weight of her words settling deep into his chest. He could move carefully, quietly, plan every step a man took toward power and survival. But when it came to her, no plan had ever been enough. No timing ever perfect. No strategy ever foolproof.
He’d waited because she mattered more than anything else. Because her safety, her strength, her heart, they were worth more than the world he’d built with blood and iron.
And now, Nadya had taken away the excuse he hadn’t even admitted he was clinging to. It wasn’t fear, but reverence. It was the awful, aching knowledge that she wasn’t just another piece of his life. She was his life. 
Tommy straightened slowly, the familiar weight of resolve sliding back into his bones like armor. Straightening his cap, he exhaled hard, and headed for the mansion. He had no intention of waiting another minute.
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Your mother had just left, taking the mending she'd brought you yesterday with her, all finished. Her business was thriving now that she was out from under the cruel yoke of her second husband and it turns out she really did need your help to get it all done. On top of that, she'd brought the first set of dresses she'd made for you at Tommy's request. You hadn't tried them on yet but they looked exquisite and you were excited to wear them. 
Polly and Ada were gossiping about John and someone named Angel while you held baby Karl on your lap. You heart melted at the way he reached for your fingers, how he giggled when you bounced him on your knee. It made you think you couldn't wait to meet your own baby. Would it be a boy? A girl? Would he or she be a happy baby like Karl?
They would if you had any say in it. 
When you heard the front door close, you assumed it was Rory. When he came to visit you, it was usually around this time. But when you heard the heavy steps coming up the hall, you knew they weren't your brother's. They were Tommy's and he was home early. When he reached the sitting room, he didn't wander in like he was joining the conversation. He came to a stop, his intense gaze fixed on you, and the baby on your lap. You smiled at him but he wasn't returning it. Was something wrong?  
You barely had time to set Baby Karl back into Ada’s waiting arms before Tommy marched straight for you, his hand closing around yours, firm and insistent. Not rough, but not leaving room for argument either.
"Come with me," he said, low and urgent, his voice vibrating against your skin more than your ears.
You blinked up at him, your heart giving a little stutter. His coat was still damp from the light rain outside, hair slightly mussed, tie a little loosened like he hadn't bothered adjusting it properly. His blue eyes, sharp and stormy, barely moved to Polly and Ada in acknowledgment before fastening right back onto you.
Polly arched a brow, giving you a smile over the rim of her teacup. Ada, smirking slightly, jiggled Karl on her knee like she'd seen this coming.
You opened your mouth to ask what was going on, only to be gently but firmly tugged to your feet, your words swallowed by the suddenness of it. "Tommy--" you started.
"Later," he said under his breath. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, an unconscious gesture, almost soothing, but the iron in his grip said otherwise.
Whatever this was, he wasn’t playing. He didn’t wait for your protests or offer explanations, just steered you toward the hall and out of earshot. And then you were alone with him.The soft creak of the mansion’s stairs underfoot as he dragged you in the direction of the bedroom. The low thud of your heartbeat grew louder, but he didn’t let go until you reached the door, and even then, only to open it and guide you inside. When the door shut behind you with a quiet click, you finally found your voice again.
"Tommy, what’s--"
But the look in his eyes, dark, determined, a little wild around the edges, silenced you all over again. Tommy didn’t speak right away. He just stood there for a long moment, staring at you like he wasn’t sure how to start -- like the words were trapped somewhere deep in his chest, behind walls he usually never let anyone near.
You shifted slightly, nerves twisting tighter. “Tommy…?” you said, softer this time.
He moved then, two slow steps forward until he was standing close enough that you had to tip your chin up to hold his gaze. Close enough that you could feel the faint tremor of restrained energy radiating off him like heat.
“I talked to Nadya today," he said finally, voice rough-edged but steady.
You blinked, confused for a second, then your heart skipped a beat as the meaning caught up. “Oh,” you managed, your throat suddenly dry as you recalled her parting remarks.
“She said you’re well enough now... " His gaze moved over you, at the way your hands slid up his chest, and something inside him softened. Not enough to stop him from stepping closer though. Not enough to save you from the way his voice dropped lower, dangerous. “She said I don’t have to be afraid to touch you anymore.”
You swallowed hard. Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.
“I knew you needed time,” he went on, softer now. His hand lifted, slow and careful, tracing over your cheek. "You needed to heal. To choose me again, if you wanted to.," he said, thumb tracing the line of your jaw, feather-light. 
The words punched through you with devastating tenderness. Your voice trembled when you spoke. “I didn’t stop wanting you, Tommy.”
His breath hitched, a sharp, wrecked little sound. He leaned in, forehead brushing yours, and you heard the smile in his voice when he whispered. "Then marry me soon, eh, love? Before I lose my fucking mind."
And you smiled too, because now there was nothing between you and him but truth. He caught that smile with a kiss before it could slip away. He wasn't rough or urgent, but his kiss was deep, like he was anchoring himself to you all over again. His hands framed your face, strong but trembling slightly, like he was holding something breakable. You felt him breathing you in, savoring the moment, not rushing it. So much hunger thrumming just beneath the surface, and he fought it back so you'd know this wasn’t just about possession.
When he finally broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing raggedly. “You tell me no,” he rasped, “and I’ll stop. Right here."
But you didn’t want him to stop. Instead, you reached for him, fisting your hands in the front of his vest, and pulled him into you.
That was all it took.
Tommy’s control shattered like glass underfoot. Gone was the measured restraint, the careful distance. In its place was pure, raw need. He swept you into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing at all. You barely had time to let out a breathless gasp before he was carrying you across the room. There was no more distance. No more doubt. Just Tommy and you, and everything waiting to be claimed.
Tommy set you down on the bed with a gentleness that didn’t match the fire in his eyes. His hands lingered at your waist, just holding you there for a moment, almost like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. Then, slowly, he sank to his knees before you. Carefully, he tugged loose the laces and buttons of your dress with a patience that had your heart flying in your chest, making you ache. His hands trembled, moved carefully like each garment he pulled from you was something sacred. Tommy undressed you like he was unwrapping a gift he never thought he'd receive or deserve. And when you were bare before him, vulnerable and all his, he didn’t rush to take.
He took a moment to just gaze at you. His hands skimmed your hips, your thighs, your arms, everywhere with a slowness that set your nerves alight. Like he was memorizing you, tracing every inch he’d nearly lost, branding it to memory. His palms were warm and rough, a contrast that made you shiver under his touch.
"Jesus Christ,” he murmured, voice wrecked and raw, as his hands cradled your slightly swollen belly. His thumb brushed in slow, trembling strokes over your skin. “You're beautiful."
Tears stung the backs of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You didn’t want to cry right now. Not when he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
When he leaned up, pressing his mouth to your stomach with aching tenderness, you released the breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. He breathed you in like a vow and all you could do was tremble, caught in the gaze of those ice-blue eyes. 
When Tommy finally moved to join you on the bed, it was slow and careful. He shed his own clothing without flourish. Shedding layers until it was only skin against skin, heat against heat. Pulling you up the bed, his body covered yours, but he didn't crush or overwhelm. He surrounded you, and you wound yourself around him like a vine. He was warm, his weight on you felt so good. 
"Tell me if I hurt you," he whispered fiercely against your ear. "Tell me and I'll stop."
You shook your head, breathless already. "You won't." You trusted him with everything.
Tommy kissed you again, slower this time, coaxing rather than claiming. His hands never stopped moving over your body, tracing your shoulders, your breasts. His heated lips followed after, teasing your nipples until they ached. His mouth blazed a trail down to your tummy, lower... When his mouth covered you, you sucked in a breath as your hands slid into his hair. No matter how much you begged, pleaded with him, he took his time with you. Your hands clutched in his hair, your back arching wildly, as he took a long taste of you, working you up. Just the sight of it would be burned into your mind for the rest of your life. The view of his head between your thighs, the way he was grinding himself into the mattress as he did. He kept you dancing on the tip of his tongue until you came, your breathy cries filling the room. And you were beyond any place where you were worried about who could hear. 
Your eyes were closed, you were just trying to breathe when he moved back up to you, his kiss smearing the taste of your own desire across your lips. His hands were running up and down your hips and thighs, short nails raking across your skin as he went. It sent chills through your body, had you trembling beneath him. It took you a moment to realize, he was trying to keep himself under control. 
You opened your eyes in time to see him take himself in hand, his knees pushing yours apart. Tommy started pushing into you and it stung at first, it had been a while. But he moved with such care, slow, watching your face the entire time for any sign of distress. When he reached the end of you, his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes were squeezed shut like he was holding back the entire fucking world just to make this good for you.
"I've got you," he rasped. "I swear to God, I've got you."
Tommy started moving, slowly, capturing your hands with his, lacing his fingers through yours. Your thighs cradled his hips and he buried his face in your neck, brushing hot kisses in the hollow below your ear. His breath was hot on your skin and your heart pounded in time with his. 
"Saw you with Ada's baby in your arms," he rasped near your ear, making you shiver as he moved in you. "It was all I could do not to fucking come right then and there..." His thrusts were firm now, a little faster. "I can't fucking concentrate... Not with a piece of me growing inside you. You have any bloody idea what that fuckin' does to me?"
One hand slid between you, his fingers seaching through your folds until he found your clit, zeroing in on it with strokes that were maddeningly delicate. One hand free now and you just used it to hang onto him as he changed how he touched you, learning what took you apart when you didn't know yourself. 
"Once this child is born," he went on, his deep voice and dirty words pushing you closer to the edge of oblivion, "I'm going to breed you again. Fuck another baby into you... Keep you full of me... I want everyone to know... who you belong to."
You came again on his cock, his voice sending you flying this time. Your walls fluttering around him as he drove on inside you, filling you over and over. All you could do was hold on, your cries muffled into his shoulder. 
When he finally reached his end, a deep sob pulled from his chest. You loved seeing him like that, so lost in you that his eyes were closed, his full lips parted as his breath came in a rush along with yours. You held him, moving with him as he finally finished, pumping himself into you in a frenzy. 
Some minutes later you were dozing. Tommy rolled onto his back, gathering you against him without hesitation. He pulled you onto his chest like he needed you there to breathe. His hands didn’t stop moving, slow strokes down your spine, careful sweeps along your arms, his thumb brushing the back of your hand where it rested against his heart. You felt it beating, strong and steady beneath your palm. You wondered if he could feel yours too, wild and tender, tangled up in him.
For a long time, neither of you said a word, but the silence was safe and warm. Eventually, you shifted slightly to look up at him, your cheek still pressed against his skin. His eyes found yours instantly, and what you saw there-- it wrecked you. No walls or armor up, just him. 
You saw the question in his face before he could ask. "That felt wonderful," you whispered, needing him to hear it.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said hoarsely.
You rested there for a moment longer, feeling the way he tucked you even closer. His hand slipped to your stomach again, his thumb tracing lazy, absentminded circles over the faint curve. It made something inside you ache, soft and fierce all at once.
“You’re tired,” he murmured, voice lower now, rumbling against your ear.
You nodded slightly, unable to lie to him. It had been a long day, a beautiful one. But it had worn you thin.
Tommy shifted carefully, pulling the covers up around both of you. He moved you with him until you were fully tucked against his side, your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped securely around you. You felt him settle, the tension drained from his body.
As you drifted, heavy and content, you heard his voice again, rough and tender, threading through the dark. “You’re my wife now. In every way that matters. And soon, you'll be mine by law... And no one’s ever takin’ you away from me again.”
It wasn’t a threat, but a truth. Pure and simple. As certain and unshakable as the earth beneath you.
You pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart where a ring of black sun rays were tattooed to his chest, and closed your eyes, letting sleep pull you under. You didn't have to run now, and you were no longer afraid.
You were exactly where you belonged.
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You stirred slowly, the cool weight of morning pressing against your skin. For a moment, you were alone in the warm cocoon of sleep, until you shifted, and the faint sound of breathing, steady and controlled, reached your ears. Your heart skipped. When you turned your head slightly,  there he was. Tommy, fully dressed, perched at the edge of the bed like he had all the time in the world. His jacket slung over the chair. His cap on the bedside table. His elbows rested on his knees, head tipped slightly toward you, just watching.
You didn’t even think. Half-asleep, your hand reached blindly for the shirt he’d worn the night before, crumpled in the sheets, and pulled it on over your bare skin. It hung off you, swallowing you up, sleeves draping past your fingers.
When you glanced back at him, Tommy’s mouth twitched, the ghost of something darker and tender all at once glinting in his eyes. He didn’t say a word at first. Just let his gaze move over you, slow and possessive, like he was memorizing the sight.
“You love me yet, eh?” His voice was rough silk. A little cocky, but a little unsure. And it cut through the quiet of the bedroom like a match to kindling.
You gave a breathless little laugh, barely a sound, and pushed yourself up on your elbows, the shirt falling loose around your shoulders. 
Before you could answer that, he moved, pulling something from the pocket of his coat. It was a small black velvet box that he flipped open between his hands, holding it toward you. Inside, nestled against dark satin, was a shiny, new ring that was just beautiful in its simplicity. It was heavy gold framing a single deep emerald accented by a ring of tiny diamonds.
Tommy’s voice, when it came, was low. A little raw. “Marry me. Not ‘cause you owe me and not ‘cause of the child. Just because it’s you and me. And there’s no one else for either of us.”
For a second, you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. And then, without thinking, without a doubt in your head, you just launched yourself into his arms. 
Tommy caught you with a grunt of surprise, one arm locking tight around your waist as you nearly knocked him backward on the bed. His other hand cradled the back of your head like something priceless. No  more hesitation or second-guessing. When you finally pulled back enough to see him, tears blurring your vision, you nodded fiercely. So hard it made him huff a quiet breath of laughter against your forehead.
Carefully, he slipped the ring onto your finger with shaking fingers, his thumb brushing your knuckles after like he didn’t want to let go. He kissed you then, slow and deep, taking his time. And when he finally broke the kiss, when he tucked you against him, holding you there like the last piece of something he never thought he’d have, he murmured against your hair. “Gonna need my shirt back, love.”
The smile that bloomed on your face hurt in the best way.
You were his. And somehow, impossibly, he was yours too.
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warnersister · 1 year ago
Text
How the peaky boys react when dating a girl with a praise kink (nsfw) -> headcannon
Goes without saying, nsfw warning
Find the request here, sorry it took so long
Tommy🪖
🪖Tommy had you figured out before you’d figured yourself out.
🪖He knew what was going on in your head before your did.
🪖You were working late one Friday at the Garrison, of course many working men joyously engaging in Friday night drinking and drunkenness while their wives whittled wistfully back home.
🪖You weren’t expecting the Blinders tonight, but of course you’d always find room for the Peaky boys in this establishment, regardless if you were chocker with customers that the bar didn’t really have the capacity for. The door chimed and you spun, peering to see if you had the numbers to accommodate the x amount of customers you had walking through your door.
🪖”Evening boys, meeting or drinks?” You ask, readying yourself to go clean the business Roman that was wordlessly their property. “Just drinks tonight, love” Tommy answered with a small smile and you nod, placing your hands on your hips; balled into fists while you ponder around to find their empty table.
🪖You notice a table of rowdy youngsters occupying the usual Shelby spot and you narrow your eyes at them, internally questioning if you had the inner morals to boot paying customers out of their seats.
🪖”Be a good girl and get us a booth please, sweetheart” Tommy asks, well instructs, as he lights up another cigarette.
🪖He noticed the way your eyes darkened at his request and your lips parted slightly. You nodded. “Of course Tommy, give me a moment lads” you say, heading to the young gentleman to ask them to either head to the open seats at the bar or get gone.
🪖"hiya lads, sorry to bother.” You say as you approach the lot who look at you in question “but I’m afraid we need this booth, happy to serve you up at the bar or I’m sure another will open soon” you wince, apologetically. One scoffs. “Why should we? We’re paying customers?” He asks, beginning to instigate somewhat of an issue, when Tommy swoops in “I believe she asked you nicely” he grunts, and it was almost awe-strucking watching how fast the boys scampered out the door with mediocre apologies.
🪖Thomas wanted to test his small hypothesis again, placing a gentle hand on your lower back “such a good lass to your old Tom, aren’t you?” He hums and he watches as your jaw slackens and you swallow on your own saliva, beginning to stumble around a response. “My pleasure, Tom”
🪖And then a few months later, when he’d taken you out a couple of times you were more widely known as Tommy’s girl than you were your own name.
🪖It was again a Friday evening, usual crowd shuffling to their places and so were the boys.
🪖“evening boys” you smile, handing an older man his shandy as he makes his way back to his missus who was still sipping on her gin.
🪖“evening sweetheart” Tommy smiles, leaning across the bar to peck your lips as the rest of the boys head to their normal spot.
🪖business as usual
🪖you begin pouring their beers automatically, following Tommy to the table with umpteen pints and of course an apple juice for John, whom you’d cut off from alcohol.
🪖“good girl” Tommy applauds as you hand them their drinks, quiet enough that the rest of his rough crowd didn’t hear but loud enough for you to become unsteady on your feet.
🪖you didn’t know when you’d agreed to go home with Tommy. You don’t even remember locking the door to the Garrison. But now he had you buried deep beneath him as he rutted into you and there was nothing you really cared about more right now. If there was a problem you can deal with it when you were finished.
🪖he was trying to coax it out of you. Trying to coax out the fact that you revelled in it when he praised you. And it got him off to see that when other blokes such as Harry called you a ‘good lass’ for a decent shift, you didn’t bat an eyelid.
🪖“Come on love, got one more in you haven’t you?” You shook your head at his question, almost hoping that he’d let you rest after your third. “C’mon sweetheart, don’t you want to be a good girl for your Tommy?” He asks and you nod up at him through dazed eyes. “Hmm?” He asks, holding your jaw still with one hand while the other held him up above you. “Please. Please Tommy. Wanna be good for you” you mumble out, and he smirks - rutting into you at yet again, another relentless pace.
🪖”that’s it. Such a good girl f’me. So so good” he praises as your moans progressively get louder as you mewl beneath him.
🪖and eventually, when you’d both calmed down, he looked at you and smirked “good girl aren’t you?”
🪖”shut up Tom.”
Alfie🧸
🧸Eats that shit up, no crumbs, licks the plate clean.
🧸already kind of babies you, he doesn’t mean too. You’re a few years his younger and as your husband he sees it as his job to protect and provide for you while doting and taking care of you like any good man should.
🧸then one night he comes home a bit late from the bakery, readying to apologise when he’d noticed you’d just finished cooking dinner. “Well here I was all soppy and ready to apologise to you, yeah. And no, my good little girls just gone and made dinner!” He says, almost chuffed. You giggle and plate up the food, sitting across from him as he begins to eat.
🧸”what ‘y doing over there, then?” He scoffs “c’mere.” He instructs as you move to sit in his lap and he relishes in the meal you’d prepared “you’re so good to your old man, aren’t you?” He hums “so so good” he exclaims, only trying to show his appreciation but he noticed your pupils dilate at his words. He brushes it off, nothing major.
🧸later in the evening his sciatica was playing up so you wordlessly left the room to go draw him a bath with some new salts you’d bought from your elderly neighbour whom your husband refused to speak to on account of her being ‘a witch’ as he said.
🧸”oh you are a good’un aren’t you, poppet?” He hums, as he enters the room, allowing you to help him undress and get into the bath, afterwards preparing to make your leave and get him some medicine from the cupboard downstairs.
🧸”and where do you think you’re going?“ he questions, and you raise a brow “to get you some medicine” “I need no such thing. Now get in here w’me.” He grunts and you do as he says, never one to turn down a good relaxing soak in the bath with your husband.
🧸”there you are, good girl aren’t you? Always listening to your old man. What did I do to deserve you. So perfect” he rambled, and doesn’t notice the ever hazing glint in your eye and when he finally looks down at you he narrows his eyes and finally realised what that look was.
🧸his praises got you going.
🧸”tell y’what would make y’old man feel so much better,” he hums and you cock your head ready to help his pain ease “if you be a good girl f’me and give us a distraction” he suggests and you see the smirk unveiling under his beard, as he reaches for your thigh to pull you over his lap and to settle atop of him. “Seeing as you asked so nicely” you mumbled into his shoulder, as you began to rock against him.
🧸”there you go, there’s a good girl” he says as you come undone on top of him and collapse onto his chest, stroking your back gently with one hand and holding you close with the other. “Y’want to move, poppet he asks?” And you shake your head, eyes closed as you recover.
🧸 as soon as his sciatica pain eases up, he was going to abuse that little trick as often as he could.
Arthur🍺
🍺poor baby needs just as much praise as you do. Thinks he’s a shitty partner
🍺but god when he found out it was like finding the fucking Magna Carta.
🍺it was his ticket out of everything. Came home drunk? “I’m so sorry, you’re so good for putting up with me” In a fight? “you’re such a good wife for patching me up” literally anything you’re not agreeing on? “Oh my good girl”
🍺he’d found out when you were already buried beneath his, mewling as he took out his frustrations on you rather than the man he was originally destined to kill that day.
🍺”y’better feel good about y’self.” He grunts “man’s life was saved cause of you, you and this fucking insatiability.” He thrusts and you groan “please” you number “hmm? Feel good? Little saint you are, fuckin’ angel. Stopped me killin’ a man. Wanna get me into heaven do y’angel? Huh? That’s where you’re sending me?” He asks and you groan louder.
🍺”yeah, cause you’re such a good girl aren’t you?” And that’s when you let out the most gluteal pornographic moan that almost stopped his movements, instead it pushes the throttle and sends the both of you over the edge.
🍺”god Id’ve spared hundreds of men if it meant I got to hear that from you”
John🥃
🥃The Shelby family were enjoying an afternoon at the Garrison. Given, it was incredibly backed with gang members and people dissimilar; still the atmosphere was was light and full of laughter.
🥃you’d volunteered for the Saturday shift seeing as Harry needed extra help nowadays seeing as the customer numbers were ever growing.
🥃John was flirting with you, as ever. While you just rolled your eyes at his antics and offered him another drink.
🥃”blimey, I need to drop drinkin’ the hard stuff. I’m seeing an angel!” John feigned surprise, as he took his cap off his head to greet you, plopping it onto your own as he leaned in to kiss your cheek sweetly. “And I’m seeing a man who’s had one too many. I’m cutting you off” you warn, wagging a finger at him. “Well I do like a lady who takes care of her man” he smirks, but was cut off by a voice that altered the atmosphere in the bar.
🥃”I am looking for Thomas Shelby” the voice announced, and you felt uneasy; John’s face darkened as he clearly recognised the man who was a stranger to yourself. You look to the rest of his family who have a similar stature to him on their faces.
🥃”get behind the bar flower” John mumbles to you calmly, “that’s a good girl. Stay down there, sweetheart” he coos as you duck your head out of sight and into the small crawl space under the kegs.
🥃As the conversation continued, John looks over the counter to you discreetly. And your large doe eyes look back, and he could see the trust in them. He leans his hip against the oak bar edge, holding his hand over and motions for you to give him your own. You thread your hand with his, and he strokes the back of your knuckled gently; giving it a squeeze as Harry instructs them to take this out of his pub.
🥃John gives you one last reassuring squeeze of the hand before grabbing an empty beer bottle and heading out the door with his brothers. A few minutes, a couple of shouts and a gun shot the three walked back in as if nothing had happened.
🥃John leans over the bar “y’alright now, good lass” he says as you peer back up and get back up from your seat on the bar. He rests his arms against the wood and grins at you. “Let y’old John reward you f’ being such a good girl, hm?” He raises a brow and honestly expects nothing from his advance.
🥃you look at the clock on the wall and decide Harry could fend for himself for a while. You look at John and wet your lips, leaning down and grabbing his collar to bring him closer to you. “Meet me in the back”
🥃He jumped over the bar.
Bonnie🥊
🥊revels in it without really meaning too.
🥊also uses it to his advantage. He doesn’t mean it, honest.
🥊you were knelt in front of him, sitting back to rest on your ankles as you wrapped his hands for his fight. “You’re so good t’me, thank you angel” he thanks, stroking your jaw with his thumb.
🥊he knew what he was doing to you. Trying to get in your head.
🥊since he’d fallen hard and fast he’d decided that you were it for him. You were his and he was yours and nothing else. Especially when you agreed to live out his gypsy fantasies with him and give up the traditional home you were so accustomed too.
🥊and he was convinced you’d make the best mum.
🥊so this little praise obsession of yours was the perfect way to sway you onto his wavelength.
🥊”you’re gonna be great tonight, Bon” you say, smiling at him comfortingly. “M nervous” he mumbles and you shake your head, holding his hands in yours “it’s gonna be fine, just go out there and do your best. I’ll always be proud of you.” You say and he seems to settle slightly. “Y’d be such a good mother, darling” he tells you, moving some loose hair out of your face and behind your ear.
🥊he notices a slight blush on your cheeks, and decides to pry. “BONNIE; TIME!” His dad shouts through the door and you tap his leg, standing up to give him his good luck kiss. Instead, he slowly walks you back until your back hits the wall, two wrapped hands caging you.
🥊 “hmm, would’y like tha’? A mammy?” He asks and you stare up at him with dazed yet wide eyes. “Oh you’d be such a good mammy. So caring, so sweet. Y’so good t’me imagine how good y’d be to a young’un.” He hums, resting one hand on your waist. “So, so good” he bumps his nose with yours. “Then I’d marry y’a.” He continues “be a good wife too. The best. Such a good girl” he coos and you audibly whine and he smiles.
🥊”y’d like that? Gonna let me make y’a mammy?” He hums, ghosting his lips over yours “BONNIE!” His dad reiterates and Bonnie huffs. “Y’can do whatever Y’want to do to me, bon” you reply hazily and he smiles as you lean up to kiss him deeply, pulling away to lean your forehead on his, hands cradling his face. “After your fight.” You nod and he raises his brows “promise?” You smile back “promise.”
🥊fastest knockout he’d ever done.
Isaiah♟️
♟️uses it against you. Purposefully
♟️defo teases you for it
♟️you’d be at the garrison, having gone accompanying your twin brother Finn and expecting to see your boyfriend there eventually when you weren’t in your usual spot at home.
♟️he’d turned up around half and hour after you had, only looking to get a drink defo not looking for you.
♟️he sees you at the bar, yet by your side was some bloke he didn’t recognise. Some six foot slime ball with his hair slicked back so far it looked like it created a permanent surprised upkeep on his eyebrows. His suit was brand new, Isaiah assumed the tag was still tucked into a pocket somewhere for him to return and scrounge in the morning.
♟️and why were you talking back?
♟️you were drinking something dark, presumably the alcohol Isaiah preferred for you not to have.
♟️had he bought it you?
♟️Isaiah stormed his way over, fully prepared to lay out the man talking to you and throw you over his shoulder and lead you straight out of the pub; but the conversation you were having with the boy stopped you.
♟️”what d’y say love, wanna get out of here?” He asked “and for the fifth time. No. My husband will be here any minute. He’s a blinder y’know?” You scoff “well he ain’t here now, is he?” He asked you when Isaiah sweeper in and pressed his gun to the man’s temple “isn’t he?” He asked, cocking it as the man before you swallowed and visibly began to sweat.
♟️”I suggest you take yourself out of this pub, out of Birmingham and fucking away from my woman.” He grunts, and the man immediately scampers. Then Isaiah looks to you, and the relief decorating your face is immediately apparent.
♟️”oh Isaiah I’m so sorry I tried to get rid of him-” you begin and then your boy begins to smile “your husband?” He asked, raising a brow cockily and you begin to rock back onto your heels “just wanted to get rid of him” you mumble, and he wraps hands around your waist and settles them on the small of your back.
♟️”you’re so good to me, aren’t you doll?” He asks, smirk growing “rejecting other men f’me?” He hums and you nod “y’know good girls get rewarded, don’t you?”
♟️or when you’re not behaving as he’d want you too.
♟️”where d’y think you’re going?“ he asks as you open the door.
♟️”Ada invited me for drinks” “y’not going, not safe. Not w’them Italians crawling round” he instructs, expecting you to shrug off your coat and come join him in the lounge. He turns but hears the door click shut. And when he’d looked, you were gone.
♟️he was fucking fuming, livid, murderous.
♟️and when you’d shown back home at 2 in the morning, hiccuping, he was already stood at the door with his arms crossed.
♟️you smiled “hi Isaiah” you giggled, but he didn’t say anything as he walked you backwards and your back hit the wall. “In what fucking world does a woman not listen to her man?” He asked and you were immediately silenced. “Hmm?” He asks “why did you think you could just go out without me, you know how dangerous it is” he says “well-” “good girls don’t disobey their men, d’they princess” and he noticed how you cowered and sunk into your shell.
♟️he threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, rutting into you in the bedroom more times than you could count telling you how disappointed in you he was and every time you were close to release, he’d stop and tell you why you didn’t deserve it.
♟️he loved torturing you.
Michael🎱
🎱so belittling with it.
🎱loves to use it against you whenever he can because it always means that he wins
🎱the first time he’d sussed this little predicament of yours out was when you were entertaining him while his brother dealt business with your father deep within the Cotswolds.
🎱you’d served him tea and polite conversation, talking about your purity and how much he idolised you.
🎱”and you’ve no husband?” He asked and he placed his cup on his saucer you and you straightened your posture before responding “no, no husband” you confirm and he is forced to stifle his smirk “well you’d make the perfect wife” he tells you and he notices how you swallow harshly “well that comes appreciated, mister gray” you reply and he narrows his eyes.
🎱and then when you were married and doting on him, he’d always remind you of how he impacted you.
🎱he knew just how to get to you. “Dear, go be a good girl and fix me a drink” and you’d do so. “I’ve got to go to London for the week. Be a good lass and don’t leave the house” and you wouldn’t.
🎱and sometimes he’d take you to family meetings. Personally believing that the women shouldn’t really be at these meetings. But a quick slap to the head from his mother soon sorted him out.
🎱and then he walked in on John shamelessly flirting with you, and he knew full well you weren’t meaningfully engaging with his cousin, it’s what you were taught to do from a young age. But still, you were engaging.
🎱”flirting with my woman, John?” Michael grunted, entering the room to which the former rolled his eyes “just showing her what a real man could give her” he winked at you before swaggering out of the room. “Why did you entertain him?” “I didn’t-” “thought you’d promised to be a good girl for me tonight?” And that shut you right up. The desire to be praised overpowering all.
🎱 “how ‘bout you make it up to me tonight, sweetheart?”
Finn🎞️
🎞️for his whole life, Finn has always been overshadowed by his older brothers. So being able to have so much control over you was so addictively intoxicating that he just loved to abuse his power.
🎞️and he’s at that age in his early twenties when his hormones are heightened and all he wants to do is act like a rabbit in a hutch during mating season.
🎞️and sometimes you weren’t up for it.
🎞️not until he figured you out.
🎞️he’d had you going for three rounds. Overwhelmed from how his brothers had been belittling him all day during business meetings and finally finding a vector to take it out on.
🎞️you’d come undone beneath him, very exhausted from the relentlessness of his actions, when he blurted out “fuck you’re so good at this” as he released inside of you. You mewled and whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “Again” you mumbled and he raised his brows “you sure?” He asked and you opened his eyes as he recognised how your irises had deepened two shades and smiled giddily “well alright then”
🎞️so whenever he needed something or someone to release his frustrations on all he had to do was stroke your cheek and call you “my good girl” and you were pretty much tearing his clothes off.
🎞️and even sometimes when he’s upset he uses it to tell you just how much he appreciates you. When times are particularly hard and when he just can’t cope with situations; he’d let you hold and cradle him and rock him back and forth while silent tears sunk down his face “you’re so good to me” he’d mumble over and over again in a sleepy voice until he’d fallen asleep in your arms and you’d manoeuvred him into a comfortable position as his arms tightened around you.
Aberama🌞
🌞oh god this man is insatiable.
🌞defo calls you his ‘good girl’ and doesn’t give a fuck who hears it.
🌞likes to shelter you from everything in this horrible world, thinks it’s his job to protect and shadow you from anything. You were just a dainty young thing with no clue, someone had to step up and he decided he was the man for the job.
🌞just loved to take good care of you so those for eyes stayed innocent and undamaged. Bare and pure unlike his that were darkened and locked with such an intricately pessimistic past
🌞one day Thomas Shelby decided to pay a visit to the camp and Aberama had beckoned you over and you did as you were told, he motioned for you to lean closer as you approached him. “Need you to stay out of the way for a while sweetheart, can you do that for me, is that alright? Just until he goes?” He asks with sweet eyes. You smile and nod at him “good girl, off you go” and you were off into the woods to pick some berries for a recipe you had an idea for.
🌞eventually he’d come looking for you, find you deep into a bush trying to reach a berry that you’d just had to have but couldn’t quite get too. He’d stayed back for a while, leant against a tree while he admired you. Until he’d felt the masculine desire to aid his lady. Coming behind you and placing his hands on your waist as he leant to grab the berry for you. You’d gasped but turned to see him, smiling brightly at him. “Thank you” “anything for you” he replied, pecking your lips gently.
🌞”always willing to help my special girl” he says “can always count on you can’t I?” And the grin turns into a gaping expression, wide and heavy eyes looking at him and he’d decided he had to have you right then and there.
🌞he’d hiked the skirt of your dress up to your waist and told you how much he appreciated you as you screwed your eyes shut and threw your head back.
🌞then he’d carried your worn out, sleeping figure bridal-style back to camp with your basket selection of berries resting in his arm as he looked down at you lovingly.
2K notes · View notes
devsblurbs · 7 months ago
Note
I would like to request 🙋🏽‍♀️🙋🏽‍♀️ (bellamy x reader)
Okay, hear me out. Best friends to lovers..I’m thinking something along the lines of either the reader gets hurt or Bell gets jealous somehow and it ends in smut ✨
Not picky ab plot or what season (prolly 1-4 tho ngl) but just those tropes pretty please 🩷
Jealousy, Jealousy—B. Blake
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A/n: I love this idea yes yes yes, Bellamy getting jealous and finally having enough and just snapping and giving in to what he really wants? Yes please.
Summary - Bellamy and reader have been best friends since coming to the ground, and for a while that was enough for him. Until she starts hanging around Murphy a little too much, he gets jealous and finally snaps.
Warnings - 18+ MDNI , smut , unprotected sex , strong language , choking , cowgirl , use of praise , degrading
Word count - 5.5k
Bellamy Blake should’ve lost his mind a long time ago, from the moment he’d arrived on the ground he’d been met with one hardship after another. Constantly dealing with a battle in his mind against what was right, or what was wrong. The responsibilities he held should’ve crushed him, but they didn’t, because of her.
Y/n, she’d been the steady hand, the voice of reason, the one who kept his mind held together when the chaos of survival threatened to tear him apart. She was his anchor, keeping him grounded when he needed it most. She was never afraid of speaking her mind to him, keeping him in check, steering him on the right path, always assuring him he was doing his best. She was the one person who could keep up with his plans, challenge him when needed, and still make him laugh after a long day.
In return, Bellamy was the reason she felt safe. She found comfort in knowing he was around, she knew if it came to it he’d do whatever he could to protect her. It wasn’t a one sided thing, they were both there for each other however they could be. They weren’t just best friends, they were two halves of the same whole.
While he carried the weight of leadership and responsibility, she carried light–a warmth that reminded him why survival mattered at all. They had built a life together on this unpredictable earth, keeping each other grounded as they navigated its relentless dangers of the unseen terrain before them.
They were always together, and neither of them would have it any other way. Their friendship was an unbreakable bond, so strong not even the toughest of knives could splice it. They shared everything with each other– Meals, secrets they dare not tell anyone else, long late night conversations by the fire just relishing in each other's company. He trusted her in a way that he gave to no one else, just her. She was his rock, his person, the one he could count on no matter what happened. For a long time, that was enough.
But then came Murphy.
He had always been a huge thorn in Bellamy’s side– Sarcastic, selfish, and unpredictable. Murphy always found a way to cause some sort of problem that Bellamy would have to remedy, and he only ever thought of himself when making decisions.
When Murphy started spending more time around, Y/n, Bellamy simply brushed it off. She was kind to everyone, even to people who didn’t deserve it, it’s just who she was as a person. That was one of things he had always admired about her, and who was he to stop her from making friends?
But aside from all that, he couldn’t help the way his stomach churned when he saw them together. He began noticing every little subtle thing, the way she laughed a little louder when Murphy was around, the way they stood too close for comfort, their heads bent together in whispered conversations, and the way her smile would linger just a fraction of a second too long while looking at him for Bellamy’s liking.
He was supposed to be the one making her smile like that, not him. He hated the way they were with each other, always laughing as if they knew something no one else did. Constantly going off with each other for hours at a time, to scout or collect supplies. Why didn’t she just ask him? Why did it have to be Murphy, it made his blood boil. The more these little interactions happened the harder it got for him to keep his mouth shut, he’d just watch from a distance, a scowl painting his freckled face as he kept his jaw clenched shut.
Tonight was no different.
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, the camp was alive with the distant hum of chatter, the crackling of the evening fire, and the rhythmic clinking of tools as the last of the day's chores wrapped up. Bellamy leaned against a makeshift table, his dark brown eyes scanning the camp for her–Y/n. She was late, something that had become a regular occurrence over the past few days, she would come back late, with Murphy, which he assumed would be the case tonight.
Sure enough, his gaze locked on her familiar silhouette near the supply tent. Her laughter rang out, soft and melodic, a sound that usually brought him peace. But right now in this very moment, it grated his nerves, that laugh was meant for his ears and his ears alone. Murphy stood beside her, his trademark smirk plastered across his face as he said something that made her throw her head back in laughter.
His jaw tightened, his fists clenching around the corners of the table. He didn’t know why her being with him angered him so much, or why it made him so jealous, but he couldn’t stop the rage that bubbled up inside of him. She was his person, they’d been through everything together–landing on the ground, fighting to survive, building this new fragile life, defending him when no one else would. She was the one person who knew him better than anyone else, one that could see past his rough, commanding facade to the man beneath. And now, she was spending all her freetime with Murphy?
“Hey, you good?” Raven spoke out, he was a bit startled at first, so lost in his jealous thoughts he hadn’t even noticed her approaching him.
“Fine.” He muttered, his gaze still locked onto Y/n and Murphy, afraid that if he’d look away something would happen.
Raven followed his line of sight, and smirked at him almost as if she knew something he didn’t. “Uh-huh, sure.. You look like you’re about to rip his throat out.”
She could clearly tell why Bellamy was upset, even if he was too naive to realize it himself. Anyone with a brain could see the way he pined after her, but his mind was too stubborn and clouded to realize it, he was simply just stuck in a jealous haze.
He simply grunted, pushing off the table to get away from Raven, he wasn’t in the mood. Before he could even think, he was striding over to the supply tent where the two were standing. There was just something in the air tonight, something strong, he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.
Y/n noticed him first, her eyes lighting up in a way that always made his chest tighten. “Bells!” She waved at him, “Where've you been? Murphy and I were just–”
“I see that,” He interrupted, his voice sharp. His eyes flickered towards Murphy, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Her smile faltered, clearly confused at where this sudden attitude had come from, to her knowledge she hadn’t done anything wrong. But the jealousy that clouded his mind told him otherwise.
“What’s your problem?” She asked skeptically, wanting to know why he was so upset.
“My problem?” He finally snapped, stepping closer, finally not able to hold back how he’d been feeling, “My problem is you spending all your time with him.” He gestured to Murphy, who let out a low whistle.
“Well, this just got interesting. I’ll leave you two to sort out whatever this is.” With a mock salute, he sauntered away, not wanting to get involved in whatever heated argument that was to follow.
Y/n and Bellamy stood there, a tense silence covering the air around them.She crossed her arms, her expression sifting from confusion to annoyance. “What the hell, Bellamy? What’s your deal?”
“My deal? He’s not exactly the most trustworthy person to be hanging around.” He said, truth be told though even if he was, he’d probably still be just as pissed.
She simply rolled her eyes, “Oh come on, he’s trying. You of all people should understand that people can change.”
“That’s not the goddamn point!” He barked.
“Then what is?” She shot back, her voice rising, “Because from where I’m standing, it just looks like you're pissed I’m spending time with someone else, you can’t expect me to spend all my time with you!”
He froze, the words hit him like a punch to the gut, settling uneasily into his stomach. She wasn’t wrong, but he couldn’t admit that–not to her, not to himself. But deep down, he wanted to snap out that she was his girl, not Murphy’s. He wanted her to spend all her time with him and him alone, he wanted her to himself.
He didn’t say anything else, his chest heaved, his emotions teetering on a razor’s edge as he stared at her. Her words echoing in his head, his fists clenched, the raw swirl of jealousy and fear consuming him like a raging out of control fire. Without thinking, without weighing the consequences, something inside of him snapped.
He reached for her, grabbing her arm tightly with one singular fluid motion.
“Bellamy–” She began, but her words were cut short as he pulled her towards his tent with determined strides. His grip was tight, but not enough to hurt her, though the intensity and fire in his eyes was enough to send a shock through her.
“What are you doing?” She practically demanded, her voice tinged with confusion, and touch of anger still blistering within her, but he didn’t answer.
He shoved open the flap of his tent, yanking her inside, before releasing her wrist. For a moment, there was silence, the kind that was thick and suffocating, weighing both of them down heavily.
“Bells, talk to me,” She tried again, her voice slightly softer now, almost pleading. But instead of talking, he closed the space between them, in a single step, his dark eyes boring into hers with an intensity that made her breath hitch in her throat.
His voice of reason went out of the window, he didn’t care about anything anymore, not what would happen after this, not about Murphy, he just wanted her. His lips crashed onto hers, it wasn’t gentle, nor hesitant. It was raw, unrestrained, and desperate, as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His hands framed her face, his fingers threading into her hair as he poured every ounce of frustration, jealousy, and something deeper- something terrifying real, some unspoken emotion he’d been hiding away–into that kiss.
She froze, her mind reeling. This was Bellamy, her best friend, the person she trusted more than anyone, and he was kissing her. Her mind ran wild with thoughts, was this why he had been so jealous?
She felt the tension in his grip, the way his body seemed to hold hers as if to say, ‘You’re mind.’ It wasn’t just passion– there was a hint of fear there too, a fear of losing her, of being left behind. Slowly her hands trailed up his chest, not to push him away, but to steady herself as her lips met his slowly beginning to show the same yearning back.
When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, forehead resting against hers as he struggled to find the right words. The kiss had conveyed all the emotions his voice never could, and now he struggled to get them out.
“I can’t do this anymore,” He murmured, his voice hoarse, “I can’t stand watching you with him, Y/n. I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with it.”
Her eyes stared up into his, “Bellamy..”
“I know I’m being selfish,” He continued, “But I don’t give a fuck anymore, I can’t keep trying to tell myself that I don’t want you all to myself.”
She swallowed at that, her heart beat picking up as he spoke to her, his voice raw with emotion. His hand was on her hip, his grip possessively screaming that she was his, and he looked down at her with a type of fire that had her stomach doing somersaults. Her mind was racing, her heart pounding her chest so hard she was certain he could hear it. The intensity of his words, the raw emotion in his voice, and the lingering taste of his lips on hers had shattered the delicate walls built between them. She had told herself for so long that they were just friends, trying so hard to convince herself of that. She had no idea until now that he was in turn doing the same thing, they both yearned for each other deep down but locked it away.
“Bell,” She whispered, her voice soft, and smooth.
His hand still possessively held her hip, as his other came up to hold her face in a way that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes searched hers, waiting for her to speak, waiting for her to say something, anything.
But words didn’t come out of her throat, instead she surged forward, closing the distance between them once more. Her lips met his in another kiss, this one more heated than the last. It was rough, and passionate–a release of all the pent up emotions the two had. Her hands clutched his shirt, gripping it tightly, almost afraid that if she were to let go he’d disappear.
He was stunned by her sudden move for a moment, before a low guttural sound escaped his lips. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pulling her against her as closely as he could, anchoring her to him as though she might slip away.
She pressed closer to him, her body molding into hers like a puzzle piece, her heart racing as she poured everything she couldn’t say into the kiss. Every stolen glance, every moment she had pretended to not care for him like this–it was all there, laid out bare within the kiss.
When they finally broke apart for the second time, both of them were breathing hard, foreheads resting against each other, the air thick with the tension and heat between them.
“Y/n..” He rasped, his voice low and unsteady.
She looked up at him, her eyes blazing with emotion, “You’re not the only one who’s been bottling up emotions.” She finally admitted, the words leaving her lips almost lifted a weight off her shoulders that she didn’t know was there.
His hands cupped her face once more, the pad of his thumb brushing against her now swollen bottom lip, a type of heat stirring inside of her stomach as he did this, “And now?”
“I don’t care anymore, I’m tired of pretending, tired of holding back..I want this Bell, I want you.” Her voice soft, like a melody to his ears.
His breath hitched, the tension around them electric, all of their feelings laid out in the open now. Unspoken hunger aired out around them that neither of them could deny any longer. Her hands lingered on his chest, her fingers tracing lines of his muscles through his shirt, igniting his skin with sparks. She felt his heartbeat–strong, steady, and quick beneath her slander fingertips.
He lightly gripped her chin, leaning in, his lips captured hers again in another deep feverish kiss. She melted into him, her hands sliding up to tangle into his messy curls, pulling him closer as the kiss grew more desperate.
Without breaking their lips apart, his hands slid to her waist, his strong grip lifting her effortlessly. She gasped softly against his lips as he guided her onto his lap, her legs straddling him as he settled her against him on the small bed.
Her breath hitched as her knees sank down into the bed on either side of him, feeling him through his jeans against her. His hands found her hips, gripping them roughly, holding her down onto him. His lips found hers again, more urgent this time, one of his hands sliding up the small of her back, and under her shirt onto her bare skin, causing a shiver to radiate through her body. The other slid into her hair, tilting her head back slightly to deepen the kiss, his fingers digging into her like he couldn’t get enough of her.
She let out a small moan, the sound muffled against his lips, and he groaned back in response, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. The world outside the tent faded away, the jealousy faded away, all that mattered was he had her in his lap now, she was all his.
His lips left hers to trail along her jawline, pressing hot, open-mouthed kissing down the column her neck. She tilted her head back, her fingers tightening in his fair as his lips found the sensitive spot just below her ear, drawing soft whines from her lips.
“Bell,” She whispered, a slight tremble in her breathless voice.
He pulled back a bit, his dark eyes meeting hers, blazing with a lustful fire. “Say it again,” He murmured, his voice like a low growl, laced with a possessiveness that had her knees going weak.
“Bell.” She repeated, in a small whimper, her cheeks flushed.
His hands slid down to her hips, gripping them tightly, the fire between them growing hotter. It consumed every lingering doubt, and every ounce of hesitation.
His hands moved, sliding them under her shirt, feeling the warmth of her soft skin on his calloused fingers. Her breath hitched at the contact, her body arching into him instinctively. His lips found her neck again, trailing soft kisses and bites down her collar bone.
His hands gripped the hem of her shirt, tugging it upward in one swift motion. She lifted her arms up, letting him pull it off fully. He tossed it aside without a second thought, his eyesing trailing up and down her bare torso. The way he looked at her–hungry, reverent, possessive–made her heart race, a fierce pool of heat pooling in her stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” He murmured against her neck, his breath hot against her skin.
Her lips parted to respond, but before she could speak, his hands gripped her waist again, pulling her close as his lips crashed against hers again. The kiss was desperate, fierce, as if trying to claim her completely as his.
His lips left hers, trailing down her jawline, her neck, her shoulders, and in between her breasts. He kissed every inch of skin that he could reach, his teeth grazing against her occasionally, leaving small marks to stake his claim. Her head was tilted back, soft moans leaving her lips relishing in the pleasure that just his lips left her with.
“You’re mine,” He growled against her chest, his voice low and fierce. His hands tightened around her, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go.
Her breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity of his voice sending a thrill through her. The way her chest heaved, and she stared at him with a type of need seemed to ignite something inside of him. His lips crashed against hers again with a new found urgency, his kisses were demanding, rough, leaving her breathless in his arms.
She felt his hands exploring her body, tracing the curve of her waist, down the line of her spine. She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she matched his passion, her own desire overwhelming her.
His lips left hers to trail hot kisses down her chest, his hands going up to knead her breasts in between his fingers.Each touch of his lips sent a shiver up her spine, and she could feel the tension in his body, the sheer force of his restraint as tried to hold himself back.
“Bell..” His name left her lips again, a soft whine, almost like a prayer, her voice barely audible.
He pulled back a little, his hands framing her face as he stared into her eyes, a sheer dark force of lust behind them, “Tell me you’re mine, love.” He demanded, his voice low, and commanding. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her.
“ ‘m yours, always.” Her gaze met his with half lidded eyes as she spoke.
He bit his lip, hearing her say that she was setting off something almost primal within him. A low growl caught in his throat, as his fingers gripped her and held her close on his lap. She in turn reached for his shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric tightly. She tugged at it, her breath catching her throat as he pulled back just enough to help her. In one motion, he threw it off, revealing the broad expanse of his chest and shoulders.
Her gaze lingered, taking in every detail–the taut muscles, the faint scars etched into his skin, and the way his chest rose and fell with every heavy breath. Tentatively, her fingers traced down from his chest, to his shoulders, right to his defined v-line just for a moment, before going back up to rest on his chest.
His eyes burned into hers, his lips quirking into a small, almost smug smile at her touch. “Like what you see, princess?” He teased, his voice a low rumble.
She rolled her eyes playfully, humming a yes, fingers trailing over his skin as she did so. He smirked, leaning in to capture her lips again, but this time his hands moved up, brushing her sides before settling on her chest. Taking her nipples in between his fingers, and toying with them. She couldn’t stop the breathy sound that escaped her lips, or the way her hips instinctively ground against his needily.
He pulled away from the kiss, groaning softly, his fingers gripping her softly from the friction of her hips. He chuckled low in his throat, the sound deep and teasing.
“So sensitive.” He mumbled, clearly amused.
She didn’t have time to respond before he shifted his grip, hands sliding to grab her hips. With a deliberate slowness, he guided her movements, pressing her down against his hard on. The friction caused another gasp from her, and a low moan to come from his throat.
“Fuck–” She cursed under her breath, the feeling of him grinding against her was driving her mad, it was slow and teasing. Giving her a little bit of pleasure, but not truly giving her what she wanted or rather what she needed.
He grinned, his hands tightening against her hips, pushing her down against him a little more. His eyes sparkling mischievously as she seemed to get a bit frustrated, “What’s the matter hm? Someones a little worked up.”
She let out a soft whine, trying to move against him more, but his firm grip prevented her from doing so. She was getting needy, and impatient, “Quit teasing.”
He chuckled again, rolling his hips against hers a bit, “But where's the fun in that?”
She huffed out, her eyes meeting his in a silent plea.
“Tell me what you want.” He leaned in whispering into her ear, his voice low and gravely in her ear.
She swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing even deeper, “You.. I want you, please Bell.” She pleaded with him, her chest heaving.
His smirk only grew darker as her breathless pleas filled the air, the way her voice trembled, the way she was all needy for him. “That’s all I needed to hear,” He murmured, satisfied with her begging.
With one last lingering kiss, he gently shifted her off his lap, his hands sliding down her sides as he did. She whimpered softly at the loss of contact, her hands instinctively reaching for him. But he only smirked, standing to his full height as he looked down at her, the dim candle light casting shadows across his broad, muscular frame.
Her lips went to open to say something, but the words caught in her throat as he reached for the button of his jeans. He popped it open, dragging down the zipper slowly, teasingly, his eyes never leaving hers. She swallowed, her heart pounding as she watched him push the fabric down his hips, tossing them to the side.
He stood there for a moment, letting her take him in, his toned body practically glowing in the soft light. Her gaze swept over him, her breathing erratic, her cheeks painted a deep shade of red.
“Someone's drooling over there,” He teased, “Practically over there eye fucking me.” A low chuckle left his lips, clearly amused with the way she stared at him like he was some kind of Greek god.
She rolled her eyes despite her obvious flustered state, but she just couldn’t tear her eyes away from this god-like man in front of him. The way sweat dripped down his toned chest, the way his hard length was right in front of her, “You’re insufferable.” She muttered playfully, her voice lacking any real heat.
He chuckled, his lips leaning down to capture hers in a quick but heated kiss, “And you’re staring.” He shot back, tone laced with amusement.
Before she could retort, his hands moved down to the waistband of her pants. His rough thick fingers brushing against her skin, pulling a soft whine from her lips as he hooked them under the fabric pulling them down, hands grazing her thighs as he did. He then tossed them to the side with the rest of their discarded clothes.
He straightened back up, taking his turn in looking her over. His eyes holding a mixture of hunger and reverence in them as he drank in her appearance, “So fuckin’ perfect.” He said softly, voice filled with awe.
He didn’t say anything else, climbing back onto the bed, he settled himself down. His arms reached out to guide her back onto his lap, his cock resting against her stomach, not giving it to her just yet. He could tell just how desperate she was, how needy she was for him. The way she clung to him, the quiet needy whimpers falling from her lips, the way her heavy-lidded eyes stared at his.
“You want my cock that bad hm?” He asked, his voice low and rough.
She whimpered in response, gripping his shoulders tightly, her chest heaving, her swollen lips parted slightly, her mind clouded over with need, and desperation.
He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk, “Tell me how bad you want this dick.” He mused, finger swiping over her bottom lip.
She flushed, her cheeks burning as she squirmed against him, desperate for him, “Want you so bad..” Her voice barely above a whisper.
“Not good enough,” He murmured, leaning in to brush his lips against her ear, “Beg for it, show me how badly you need me.”
Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she hesitated, her pride waiting with the overwhelming desire to feel him inside of her. But with the way he was looking at her, the way his hands held down, the way his cock rested against her stomach so close to her but not inside of her was driving her insane.
“Please, Bell,” She broke, her voice trembling, “I need you, please–just fuck me please.” She stammered out.
He groaned softly, her words hitting him like a tidal wave. He leaned back, his dark eyes fixated onto hers, “That’s my good girl,” He said, his fingers sliding into her mouth. She took the hint, swirling her tongue around them, making popping sounds as he pulled them out.
“Such a needy slut for me aren’t you?” He mumbled, he had heard everything he needed to hear and he couldn't hold himself back anymore.
With a swift move, he lifted her hips up, sliding her down onto his cock slowly, bringing a sharp moan from her lips. The way he stretched her, and filled her already had her eyes rolling back. For a moment, he held her in place, making her savor it, savor him. But it didn’t last long, the way she was gripping him was driving him wild, gripping her hips she helped her start moving up and down at a slow steady pace.
“Gripping me so hard love, this pussys so greedy for me huh?” He mumbled, his head tilting back a little, a soft groan leaving her lips.
The slow pace didn’t last long though, his control snapping with the soft whimpers and whines that left her lips. The sight of her already completely undone even with the slow pace had him losing his mind, he did that to her, she was this much of a mess on his cock already.
His grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her down onto him sharply, roughly. Her hands holding onto his shoulders to steady herself as he drilled up into her, her head falling into the crook of his neck, unrestrained cries of his name falling from her lips.
“That feel good?” He growled, his voice low and possessive as he held her firmly, moving her hips up and down onto his cock, “You’re all fucking mine, princess. Every. Single. Part.”
Her fingers clung to his shoulders, her body trembling under his touch, her mind fogged over, she was a mess of moans and whines.
“This pussy? All fuckin’ mine, it was made for this cock.” He mumbled, thrusting up into her fiercely.
His eyes burned with an almost feral intensity as he watched her, completely intrapped with the way she looked bouncing up and down on his cock, the way her hair was a mess, the way her breasts bounced. He was completely lost in her, and she was lost in him.
“Say it,” He demanded, his hand going up to grip her throat roughly, “Tell me this pussy is mine.” His voice commanded as he snapped his hips into her roughly, making her cry out again.
“Fuck– all yours, pussys all yours!” She stammered out breathlessly.
His lips crashed against hers, silencing her cries, kissing her with such ferocity. One hand tangled into her hair, tilting her head back to deepen the kiss, while the other stayed on her hips helping guide her movements with a roughness that left no doubts of her claim over her.
“You drive me insane,” He muttered against her lips, “No one else gets to touch you like this, you hear me? Just me.”
She nodded quickly, eyes squeezed shut as crores continued to spill from her lips, “Just–you.”
Her words sent a wave of satisfaction through him, and he groaned, burying his face into her neck, each motion of his hips drawing more and more cries from he lips. “That’s my girl,” He growled, “Taking me so well.”
Their bodies moved in perfect sync with each other, driven by an overwhelming need. His hands were everywhere–gripping, guiding, pulling her closer as she melted into him. Sweat dripped down their bodies, her breasts bouncing with every move.
Her breaths were shallow, each one coming out in a gasp or a sharp whine as she bounced her hips on him, desperate for more.Her fingers scratched at his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. Her legs trembled, and his movements got sloppier.
“I can’t–can’t hold on much longer.” She whined out, throwing her head back.
He kept snapping his hips into hers, “I’ve got you love.”
His hands held her, pulling her up and pushing her down as he rutted his hips up, panting, desperately chasing his own release.
“Wanna cum for me, pretty girl?” He whispered in his ear, his movements still at their relentless pace, “Go on, make a mess for me.”
She did, her eyes rolling back, sharp cries of his name falling from her lips like a prayer, as her whole body tightened and trembled against him. He wasn’t long after, groans falling from his lips, pulling out and shooting hot ropes of cum all over her stomach.
Both of them panting, foreheads pressed together as they collected themselves.
“You’re so beautiful..” He murmured, taking her disheveled appearance in. Purple bruises, swollen lips, messy hair, he claimed her in every way that he could.
She chuckled softly, her body still trembling a bit as he cleaned off her stomach. After he was done, he laid them both down onto the bed, his arm protectively wrapped around her.
“You’re mine, and I’m not letting you go anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to her temple, holding her head against his bare chest.
“All yours, though if getting you jealous means you’re gonna fuck me like this maybe I’ll have to do it more often.” She joked, and he only playfully rolled his eyes.
Things were different now, all of those unsaid emotions were out. There was no need for jealousy anymore, he made sure she knew that she was his and his alone.
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