#dark tommy shelby x reader

[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Prison or Castle

Warnings - DubCon, Dark Tommy Shelby, 18+, Smut

Read at your own risk

Minors & Zionists - DNI

There may be grammatical errors, I did not proof read it. Got an idea and wrote as quickly as I could.

Tommy was furious, no, he was beyond furious, there wasn't any word to describe the anger radiating off of him like Tsunami waves. You had dared to run away again,

How could you do that to him?

How could you do that to him when he provided you with all the luxury the world had to offer?

You didn’t understand how he was trying so desperately to keep you safe .You never understood or listened.

Sure, he had basically kidnapped you from your home, killed your husband in a fit of jealous rage. You were not even aware of his existence , a problem he resolved easily by pretending to be your dead husband's old friend . It wasn't technically a lie, your husband and Tommy were mere acquaintances, nothing more than a nod and a polite hello was ever exchanged.

It didn't take long for him to worm his way into your tattered life. You were struggling with mortgage payments and crushing grief, trying to keep your head above the water, trying to exist in this cold, hard and unjust world.

You weren't even aware of the web of lies and traps of deceits that Thomas Shelby was weaving and designing around you to seclude you from your support system, your loving family and friends.

"Darling, how many times have I told you not to go out without security." Tommy Shelby tutted while tranferring your gagged, bound and wriggling body forcefully to his sedan's backseat. Pushing you over and buckling your seatbealt.

Your angry eyes and defiant body was nothing under his powerful and muscular body.

"Do not move" but you still tried to move, tried to get out of the handcuffs that shady policeman on Tommy's payroll had put you in and when you made a fussand attracted some attention, he had slapped duct tape on your mouth. And after that he had hand delivered you to the notorious gangaster Thomas Shelby, you knew that corrupt cop would be rewarded handsomely for returning Tommy's most precious possession. You knew you had a bounty on your head but you were dumb enough to trust a cop. Obviously, cops are more loyal to Peaky Blinders than to their own job.

Which brings you to your current state of powerlessness, trying to get out of those metal cuffs using some trick you saw somewhere on Tiktok or Youtube or whatever.

Tommy slammed the passeger door shut, and walked over to the driver's seat. Seeing you through rear-view mirror all gagged and tied like that was making him hard, he did his best to adjust his pants, trying to alleviate some pressure on his cock. He palmed his cock while staring at you like a pervert, your heaving breasts, your struggle was turning him on, and he had found a new kink to explore with your unwilling mind but pliant body.

He imagined you choking on his cock till your eyes welled up. Fuck, he was getting harder, his sexual frustrations were building up.

He took a deep breath, centering himself and driving to your little love nest in the countryside with nothing around for miles. The castle he bought for his reluctant queen trying to leave him. That castle was wired up to the teeth with state of the art surveillance systems, every nook and cranny had cameras and motion sensors. Thankfully, because Blinders were able to warn him your escape within minutes of your departure. You didn't need to know how you get caught so easily and quickly. You didn't need to know you were being watched 24 x 7 by someone.

Your struggle to free yourself was unrelenting, creating enough ruckus for Tommy to pull over at the boundary of his vast property, there was nothing but trees and farmland. He knew the road to his castle would be devoid of any traffic.

Tommy got out of the driver's seat and made his way to the back, he opened the door and unbuckled you, he dragged you out and shoved you on the hood of his car. Your backside collided with the car, you tried to centre yourself with the handcuffed hands as much as you could, but before you could think of anything Tommy tore off the top of your dress like paper, your bra was another story, he removed his peaky hat and sliced off your bra from the middle carefully and threw the hat on the side. You gasped in horror behind the duct tape.

Your breasts were on display for the greedy blue cornflower eyes, your nipples pebbled up in the cold air. Tommy used his calloused hands to appreciate the feel of your breasts. His hands teasing and rubbing your hardened nubs, he crouched down to suckle at those traitorous pebbled nubs, he took his time to appreciate each breast and enjoyed feasting on breasts like a beast, your body started betraying you, you felt yourself getting wetter than the ocean.

"I'm mad but I can't even stay mad at you" He murmured into your skin slickened with his saliva. You started moaning and whining like a bitch in heat.

Tommy got off you and took off his coat and threw it on the side, it landed near his hat, he then undid his belt, his pants and his boxers, you were looking at him all wild-eyed scared, and astonished.

What was this crazy man doing?

He grabbed your handcuffed hands with his left hand, silently ordered you to spread your legs and you obliged, his erect cock poking your lower belly proudly. Tommy's dexterous right hand wandered down south, his fingers nudging your panties to one side to make way for his desperate lust. His fingers were met with your arousal, he smiled wickedly. His skilled fingers entered your cunt to collect more of your essence. He brought those fingers to his lips and licked them like a parched animal.

He used his right hand to maneuver you into a better position by grabbing your left leg and hooking it over his naked butt. You desperately hooked your leg tightly behind his back, he aligned his cock, that snake playing with your puffy clit. You knew Tommy wanted submission from you and you were horny and desperate enough to give it to him.

Tommy entered your cunt partially, your body begging his for more but he relented, loving the desperation and confusion on your face.

"Just a moment,darling" Tommy replied huskily before ripping off the duct tape off your mouth.

And as soon as you tried to take breath from your mouth, that bastard Shelby shoved his thick cock in your drenched cunt. You cried with an immense painful pleasure.

You shouted in breathless pleasure.

He pulled out his massive cock halfway and spoke devilishly, "Scream for me, moan all you want" he got closer to you, and whispered in your ears "No one can hear you, it's just you, me and nature" and thrust his cock into you again slowly, trying to extract every moan, every scream from your tired lips.

He laid you on top of the hood carefully, you tried your best to lay on your bound hands and he proceeded to grab your hips and push your right leg on his shoulder to impale you properly like he wanted. Tommy kept thrusting into you wildly. He was in his beast phase, you had angered him and he knew the only way to take out his anger on you was pounding your warm, soft, drenched and invititng cunt into submission.

His cock was coated in your juices, and that sight made him harder. He began to violently pound your cunt with his thick cock, you were squirming on top of his car, you were so close to cumming but Tommy sensed your walls were clenching inanticipation, it took a lot of restraint for him to pull out of you, he shoved your legs down, and grabbed the chain on your handcuffs before turning you over and pushing your front onto the hood and continue thrusting and fucking into you from behind.

Your moans grew and so did his growls,

You were in the middle of the road getting fucked by a gangster like a whore. Your body moved on top of the hood with every powerful thrust from Tommy.

He was tormenting you, not letting you cum.

"Please, please, please Tommy, please let me cum" you beg pathetically.

"You should have said something, darling" He replies snarkily.

"Now, will you run away from our castle again?" He asks as he snaps his hips and his cock nudges violently against your g-spot.

"Nonononono, I won't"

"Good girl" He pulls you towards him and then whispers on your ears.

"This time I am fucking you in an open but empty road, next time I will fuck you in front of all the Peaky Blinders" your cunt clenches around his cock. Tommy chuckles, "You like the idea, eh? Maybe I will fuck you in front of them, let them see what they can never have" He adds as he cruelly thrusts into you.

"Whatver you want Tommy, please, please let me cum" you continue to beg.

He kisses the side of your head and begins pounding into your special spot meanwhile his hand plays with your overly sensitive and puffy clit. You cum quickly but Tommy doesn't stop, he keeps playing with your clit, leaving you overstimulated and out of sorts, his cock pounds into your cunt like a man on mission. He keeps fucking you till he reaches his peak and floods your cunt with his pearly seed, overflowing your cunt with his cum. He pulls out slowly and adjusts your panties. You could feel his seed and your arousal pooling inside your panties, you try your best to stop the flow.

Tommy dresses up fairly quickly and and then picks up his hat and coat, he goes through the pockets and , takes out the key for the cuffs and unties you. He covers you with his coat and then proceeds to carry you to the passenger seat and buckles you in.

He gets in the driver's seat and starts the car and drives you to your jail and his castle

------

Please share your suggestions here

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Legitimate

Chapter 1

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Tommy’s thirst for power leads him overseas to the States, where he's after more than just business. What starts as a strategic move soon becomes something far more complex.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Dark Slow Burn

Dark Tommy Shelby x Reader

🍸

You push through the heavy doors, hoping that just this once, you won’t be the first to arrive. Soft music plays in the lounge, where sleek pendant lights cast an amber glow, and the scent of leather mingles with a faint trace of old whiskey.

You scan the area, letting out a resigned sigh as you confirm it—you’re the first to arrive. It’s as though they’re all just waiting for your inevitable ‘Where are you?’ text before they even begin to leave home

A hostess steps forward, her professional smile firmly in place. "Good evening. Are you meeting someone?"

“Yes,” you say, glancing over her shoulder for any sign of your group-maybe missed them the first time. You give out your friend’s names and cross your fingers as she searches her digital notepad.

"Not yet. Would you like to wait at your table, or perhaps at the bar?"

“The bar, please,” you say, fighting off a frown. Better to blend in with the half-empty space than to sit alone in open view.

She gestures to the bar, where a few patrons are scattered in quiet solitude. You thank her and make your way over, settling into a seat at the far end, where the light is dimmer. The bartender doesn’t notice you—he’s glued to a muted game on the TV overhead—but you don’t mind. This quiet corner, with its polished brass rail and cushy stool, isn’t as bad as waiting in the section alone.

The group chat lights up with those same hollow assurances—they’re “just ten minutes away.” You scoff. Ten minutes will likely stretch to thirty, if not longer.

A low prickle crawls up your neck, subtle at first. You resist the urge to look up, grounding yourself in the glow of your phone. But the feeling sharpens, like the thickening air pressing against your skin.

Slyly, you keep your head low and peer out of the corner of your eye, catching a figure in the periphery—a shape standing tall, moving slowly, drawing closer.

The figure-a man slides onto the bar-stool beside you. You ignore him, fingers tightening around your phone, though his presence feels close, deliberate. He says nothing, just reaches into his pocket, pulls something, and taps it against his palm.

You hear a strikes a match before the sharp scent of sulfur mingles with the aroma of dark liquor. You catch the faint crackle as he takes a slow drag.

“Hey, you can’t smoke in here,” the bartender says, his voice breaking the low murmur of the lounge. But the man beside you seems to barely react, only exhaling another slow stream of smoke.

“Get the lady a drink,” he says, his accent curling through the words, smooth and deliberate, with a quiet authority that lingers in the air. Your brow rises, the urge to look over at him consuming you. He’s staring at you, talking about you, and you feel a weight settle in your chest, uncomfortable under his gaze.

He is handsome—handsome in a way that seems almost out of place, like a face too perfect for the room. His blue eyes cut through you, scanning you unabashedly, and you shift uncomfortably, trying to look anywhere but at him. His dark hair is neatly cut, and his square jaw sharpens his features as he takes another drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling in the air around him.

The bartender’s expression flickers, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes. “Y-yes, sir,” he stammers, nodding quickly before turning to you, clearly unsettled. “What’ll it be, ma’am?”

"Uh… an espresso martini, please.” You’re not sure why you picked it, but the words slip out before you can reconsider. The man beside you takes another drag, his gaze unwavering, a faint smirk edging his lips. He must be someone important, you think—or perhaps the owner?

Your phone hums softly in your hand—a welcome distraction. You glance down, mouthing a faint thank you before turning away, though the weight of his gaze doesn’t fade.  As you type a quick message to the group, his presence lingers beside you, casting a shadow you can’t quite ignore. Maybe next time you’ll just wait in the car.

🍸

Your small group barely fills the wide curve of leather seating, the empty glasses accumulating on side tables in quiet succession. As you anticipated, they were all late—blaming traffic and other excuses that didn’t quite hold up. 

You lost count of the drinks hours ago, and it’s clear everyone’s at their limit. Claire’s unsteady laughter spills out as she grabs for another glass, and Sarah and Beth scramble to keep her from sliding out of her seat, the chaotic scene sparking a new wave of laughter.

It’s all familiar—like a half-forgotten memory from college, when time stretched thin and nights seemed to last forever.

Tonight had been planned for weeks, a celebration for Bethany. She’s getting married, and the sparkle on her finger is hard to miss, a cluster of diamonds catching the dim light like fragments of some distant star. She recounts his proposal with a shy smile, every detail met with wide eyes and laughter, hands reaching out to admire the ring. These gatherings have grown rare since she met him, but you don��t mind it. Everyone’s older now, a few with kids, married, while you’re content to stay in, alone.

The shift from crowded clubs to quieter lounges feels nostalgic, almost soothing—until you catch a glint of something just out of view. You can feel him there, the man from the bar, like a shadow lingering at the edge of your night. He’d paid for your drink earlier without a word, his gaze heavy, cigarette smoke trailing like a ghostly reminder of his presence.

Bethany’s laugh snaps you back, her voice lifting over the chatter. “You don’t have to get me anything from my registry—just a McMansion if you can manage it,” she teases, her grin mischievous.

You match it with a wink. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“I heard you’re on a hot streak,” Sarah chimes in, raising her glass. She’s right—you have been. Four houses in six months, commissions that exceed your expectations.

“Oh man, I’ve been begging Andy to get into flipping houses,” Claire chimes in excitedly. “ But he threatened to block HGTV.”

"Well, if you’re aiming for divorce, I wouldn’t recommend it. House flipping is a pain—it causes so much stress in relationships."

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and the atmosphere shifts instantly. You can feel the tension rise. They know how you got into the business—with your ex—and how that relationship ended.

"Not to say it can’t work, just that there’s a lot of money—and stress. Just look it up on Reddit." You scramble to recover, but it’s too late. You’ve definitely put your foot in your mouth again.

Bethany’s smile tightens, and the others exchange glances. The tension is clear, but before it fully settles, Bethany checks her phone. “Well, on that note, maybe we should call it a night?” she suggests, barely stifling a yawn. There are no objections.

You flag the waitress and ask for the check.

“It’s been taken care of,” she informs, to everyone’s surprise and delight. You have a feeling it’s him again—the one from the bar. He’d paid for your drink earlier, a gesture that should feel charming, yet instead it lodges like a thorn, unsettling.

You half expected him to make some move, some overture, but instead, he kept to himself, a silent presence that filled the air with the sharp sting of his cigarette smoke.

“Who?” Claire asks, her voice filled with curiosity. She twists around, scanning the area for the mysterious benefactor.

You watch the waitress fidget with the edge of her order pad, her gaze shifting from Claire to her manager and back.

“Sorry, ma’am. I don’t know,” she replies meekly.

“Oh, boo!” Claire sighs, shrugging as she reaches for her nearly empty glass. She dismisses it with a quick laugh, while the rest of the group gathers their things, ready to head out. You glance back to where you last saw him, but he’s gone, leaving only a faint, sharp smell of smoke in his absence. A bit of relief fills your lungs—though the unsettled feeling lingers.

🍸

You wait for Claire to climb into her Lyft before you order your own. Your head is a little light, the faint warmth of the alcohol still swirling in your veins as you shift on your heels and order your Lyft. Though you were the first to arrive, you’re always the last to leave, making sure everyone gets into their rides safely.

Your nose picks up the scent of cigarette smoke again. You think it’s him—the strange man from the bar. Of course. Same old game—buy drinks, and suddenly he thinks he’s entitled to more. Irritation crawls up your spine, a familiar, almost automatic response. Well, you're not the naive college girl anymore. You don’t go home with guys just because they bought you a drink.

“Looks like you were making sure everyone got home safe,” he observes, his tone light, a hint of curiosity behind it. “That’s pretty thoughtful.”

“Did you and your friends have fun?” he asks, his accent soft but distinct. You blink, the world spinning just slightly, the edges softening with the alcohol still lingering.

“Yeah,” you reply curtly, a bit slurred as you strain to keep his gaze. It’s easier with the haze of alcohol. At the bar, his stare had been sharp, insistent—too much. Now, it’s different, quieter, but still heavy with something unspoken.

“Heading home?” he asks, stepping closer. He’s taller than you thought, his lean frame filling the sharp lines of his tailored suit, the sharp cut of the fabric emphasizing his broad shoulders and commanding posture.

“Mmm,” you nod, rocking back and forth on your heels, suddenly feeling a sharp edge to your own behavior. You don’t know why you’re being so dismissive. He bought you drinks, paid for the tab—but then again, you’re used to guys in places like this always wanting something more.

“So, you’re British?” you try and rest your mood, offering a soft smile. You should be nicer—he was kind to you. “Are you visiting?”

“Yes. I’ve been here a while, thinking about sticking around a bit longer.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” you say with a slight, nervous chuckle. “I’ve always wanted to see London. You know, see the queen, the big clock, have tea at tea time… but I’m not the biggest fan of flying.”

“London isn’t always easy on newcomers,” he says, his voice low and smooth. His eyes hold yours, and there’s a glimmer of something else—you’re just not sure what. “Sometimes, you need someone to show you the ropes. Maybe even… look out for you.”

And there it is. He wants something more, of course—he wasn’t just being nice. His smooth words, his calm demeanor, all part of some unspoken game. The unease tightens in your chest, like a warning bell growing louder with every passing second.

“Well, if you ever decide to move here permanently, I’d love to sell you a house.” You pull a business card from your purse, swaying slightly as you search, trying to steer away from whatever it is he might be hinting at.

You hold out the card, your legs wobbling slightly. He looks down at it, a hint of a scoff escaping him before dragging his tongue over his bottom lip. His gaze sharpens, making your skin prickle.

"I wasn’t angling for your number," he says smoothly, tossing his cigarette down and crushing it beneath his shoe.

Did you misread him? He’s just some foreign guy trying to be nice. You’re bad at assumptions on a good day, and with the booze kicking in, you probably look like an ass.

"But I’ll keep you in mind when I’m ready to settle down," he adds, taking the card. You can't tell if it's out of pity or politeness. Either way, you feel bad.

"Right…" Your voice falters, a hint of embarrassment creeping in.

A car horn breaks the brief silence, impatient and sharp. He glances at the idling car, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I think that might be for you, love.”

Thank goodness. The relief presses down on you, stifling the embarrassment that rises like smoke, suffocating your chest. You nod, offering a quiet goodnight, hoping he doesn’t see the flush spreading through your veins. The sound of your footsteps feels too loud, each one echoing the unease twisting in your gut. You wonder if it will follow you—this feeling, like a shadow—until you're far enough to breathe again.

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

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

[sl-newsie]

Um… yeah

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

WHIPPED

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary - You strain from your husband who will not give you attention. He doesn't like that.

Warnings - NONCON, domestic violence, dub con, manipulative, belt whipping, spanking, tommy is mean, degrading words, breeding kink.

Word count - 3k+

Notes - You voted, you received.

Something in Tommy’s intellect changed overnight. Every once in a while, his mind would travel back in time to the war. But now, when he awoke from his nightmares, he still felt like he was crawling through the tunnels. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up more frequently, his hand rested on his gun a lot. Feeling too skeptical that he’d need to fire it at any second. 

It had impacted your newly wedded marriage, but you didn’t dare to say anything to him. You showed you cared by holding him a little tighter at night. Whilst he laid on the bed like a stone figure, staring up into the ceiling as he refused to fall asleep. 

The sex had turned emotionless like flowers dying without water. The intimacy was dead. It made you down in the mouth and filled your heart with despair. You only wanted to kiss him, talk to him, be held by him. But he had forgotten who you were. 

Over the weeks, your sadness turned into anger. You refused to be upset by his neglect any longer. So, you found other ways to find pleasure in your life and quickly realized that the only way to get your husband’s attention was jealousy. It frustrated Tommy when you started to ignore his presence, venture out without informing him and associating with his family more than him. Tommy would lecture you, wagging his finger at you. You’d only simply nod your head, awaiting for it to be over. Then it would repeat all over again. But Tommy’s mind was too caught up in his business to find the time to truly teach you a lesson. 

Until now, the surprisingly last straw was Arthur whispering something into your ear, resulting in you playfully slapping his shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Tommy’s head snapped to you two, everyone in the reading room still watching Tommy as he awaited for you to acknowledge him. 

After a pause, you finally looked up to Tommy and the stare off commenced. Your eyebrows were furrowed as Tommy’s eyes twitched, he knew you had never been unfaithful. But his mind was now racing with thoughts of the possibility occurring if he didn’t put a stop to his behavior.  

“Well, we will have a break. It seems that my wife has forgotten her manners and I must reteach them…” Tommy declared confidently as he lit another cigarette between his cold lips. 

All heads snapped towards you and Arthur’s face turned beet red. 

“Thomas” you sighed as you pressed your hand to your forehead, cheeks turning a shade darker from embarrassment. 

Any other time, Tommy adored it when you called him by his full name. But this time, he felt as if you were challenging him, trying to humiliate him in front of his family. Tommy took three large strides towards the door and motioned for you to exit in an exaggerated manner. When you merely continued to stare back at him dully he snapped. 

“Get the fuck up!” Tommy raised his voice, causing everyone in the room to flinch. 

Tommy’s eyes were strained, a vein popped out of his forehead as his hands formed to fists. 

“Tommy” Arthur protested, leaning forward in his seat. 

Arthur was always so loyal to Tommy, but grew to be highly protective of you. He was prepared to cop the fire instead, take a beating if he had to. It was his doings anyways, not yours. 

“It’s alright Arthur” you soothed his guilty look, looking confident even though your heart was pounding in shock at your husband’s outburst. 

Tommy saw red when you reassuringly pressed your hand to his chest. Without waiting any longer he marched towards you. You jumped up from your seat before he could yank you up. But he still latched onto your bicep and pulled you out of the room with no care as you winced from his hold. 

“Tommy… You’re hurting me!” You cried as he pulled you up the stairs. 

There was no answer from him. Only the sounds of grunts through his hard expression as he led you to the bedroom. Shoving you into the room, Tommy slammed the door shut and stomped around in circles, his hand tugging at his roots as he heard the shouts and cries of his fallen fellow soldiers. Your arms crossed over your chest, a frustrated expression set on your face by glue. 

“Thomas you’re being dramatic” you pointed out, shaking your head at his behavior. The embarrassment had drenched you completely, he was too furious to notice how awful he had made the situation. 

Tommy’s head shot towards you and he glared at you. 

“Pardon? You parading yourself around my brother in front of my entire family is nothing more than me being dramatic!” Tommy roared as he marched towards you. “Why don’t you fucking respect me!” Tommy yelled, his pale skin now red as he grabbed onto your shoulders in a warning touch. 

His anger spattered onto you as you felt your chest tighten, you scoffed at his words, not intimidated by his hold on you. “Oh calm down Thomas!” You hissed at your husband. 

You fell to the fall before the pain even shot from your cheek. Before the redness even grew on your timid skin. You choked out in shock as you raised your hand to the burning sensation on your cheek. The back of Tommy's hand was still positioned in the air from where he hit you. Tommy had never hit you before, he had vowed to never do it. 

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down” Tommy growled.

Swiftly, he bent down to yank you back up to your feet. When you struggled against his hold and tried to smack him away he hit you again with the front of his hand this time. Then he hit the other cheek just as hard. You screamed out in fear but his hand was swift to smack over your mouth. 

“Who do you fucking think you are? Huh! You wear my name! You’re in my house!” Tommy lectured, shaking you around like a ragdoll before he shoved you back to the ground. 

Tommy went back to walking around in circles, his hand roughly massaged his chin as he wondered what to do with you. His disobedient wife. You laid on the floor, frozen in fear as you stared at his polished shoes twirling around the room. With your hands pressed against your stinging cheeks, tears shedded from your aching eyes. Your sobs were silent and rough. 

A heavy sigh left his lips as he looked down to you. Slowly, he undid his belt and slipped it out of the loops of his pants and folded it in half. Tommy fell back onto the brown leather armchair in the corner of the room and lightly slapped his belt against his knee. 

“Come here, lay over my knee my darling…” Tommy spoke in a soothing voice, but had a wicked grin on his lips. 

You looked up at him with fearful eyes, then your stare was stuck on his belt slapping against his pants. Knowing his intentions, you whimpered out pathetically and shook your head against the floor. 

“N-no” you objected weakly. 

“It wasn’t an offer” Tommy grunted, he leaned towards you, the grip on the leather tightened. “Do it before I show you how strong my foot is” Tommy warned, tapping his foot impatiently.

It took you a moment to get up, you were too busy having a little silent breakdown as you whined at his response. The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched you gradually crawl towards him, wincing to yourself as you climbed up onto his lap and laid stiff on top of him. 

Tommy sighed as he pulled up your dress, his hand rubbed your ass briefly before he yanked down your panties to your knees. The leather brushed over your backside and you gripped onto his leg in fear as you sobbed quietly. 

“You seemed to have mistaken my kindness for weakness, my darling. I have no problem with showing you my ruthlessness, the many tales you heard of me before we had even met” Tommy explained as he dragged the belt all over your skin. 

“You’re scaring me Tommy” you sniffled out. 

The inside of your throat felt swollen and your chest ached. A harsh slap with the belt landed on your rear. It caused your panicky yelp to echo throughout the room. When you tried to impulsively wiggle yourself off of him he smacked you again with the leather. 

“You’ve lost your privileges to address me by my first name, correct yourself right now!” Tommy ordered, his hold on his belt tight as his free hand went around your back to keep you trapped. 

“Tom-uh Mr Shelby?” You answered unsurely, your expression wincing as your shoulders raised. 

“Good girl!” Tommy praised as the belt smacked against your rear again. 

You chortled out as he continued on with your punishment. Quickly, you lost count with how many times he hit you as he flicked his wrist in a haphazardly manner. Sometimes he’d focus purely on one cheek. Or do slow and heavy smacks across every inch of your skin. Then he’d do quick stings across your rear. 

“Please stop!” you begged, your voice dry and weak, your mouth pressed against his knee as you tried to muffle out your cries. 

“Aw, my darling can’t take it anymore eh?” Tommy chuckled. 

He dropped the belt onto your back and rubbed your tender backside with his bare hand roughly. 

“Please I love you Tommy!” you exhorted, desperately hoping this would ease his suspicions. 

The screech was piercing when he smacked your bruised skin wickedly with his palm. 

“Correct yourself, whore” Tommy spat. 

‘Ah! I love you Mr Shelby” you sobbed out. 

Your head fell back down to his knee, your teeth bit into his leg to silence yourself but he didn't mind. Surprisingly, the pain felt nice to him. 

“That’s a good girl…” Tommy grinned, rubbing your ass again roughly as if he was praising you. “I’m going to beat your ass beyond breaking point. Then I’ll know you’ve learnt your lesson” Tommy addressed. 

“No Mr Shelby please! I understand!” You protested as you squirmed over him. Tommy was quick to hold you on top of him as you tried to swing your body onto the floor. “Please forgive me! I won’t do it again!” You pleaded as you tried to blink back your tears.   

“Stay still before I hit you with the buckle!” Tommy threatened, his words hissing like a viper. 

You mewled out, but listened to his demand. Tommy picked up his belt again and proceeded to whip you with it. 

When your cries had died down and you laid still on him, Tommy dropped the belt to the ground and rubbed your black and blue rear. When his fingers rubbed against your slit, he grinned to himself as he brought them into his sight. They glistered in your fluid and he sucked his fingers clean, moaning to himself at your sweet taste. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one that enjoyed this”' Tommy commented as his fingers returned to your cunt, fondling with your folds and teasing your nerves by randomly pushing in a digit. “Have you learnt your lesson?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to you. 

As you tried to turn your head back towards him, you nodded to him. “Yes Mr Shelby” you spoke out breathlessly. 

“Which is?” He questioned. 

You choked on your words as you blinked back your tears. “To be a good wife to you!”

“Such a good wife…” Tommy soothed as he caressed your bruised ass. “Stand up and strip for your husband” he instructed as he leaned back into his seat. 

Through gritted teeth, you stood on your two feet and slowly stripped till you were completely nude in front of him. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind as you resisted not to cover yourself with your arms. Tommy sighed to himself as he looked your heated figure up and down, and then he pulled out his length and gradually stroked himself a couple of times. Not failing to express how aroused he was through his groans. 

“Come here and sit on my cock eh?” 

“Mr Shelby please” you begged weakly, eyes stinging with discomfort. 

Tommy leaned forward and pointed his finger to you. “Shut up before I change my mind, bend you over and fuck your ass” he warned, his pointed finger completely still. 

You nodded your head like a begging dog and practically ran over to Tommy despite the pain that shot through your rear. You straddled your husband, his hands were on your hips as he grinned up to you, his cock pressed against your inner thigh. 

“Who do you belong to?” Tommy asked as his length pushed into your throbbing, soaked entrance. 

“You Mr Shelby!” You answered through a groan as you slid down his shaft. 

“Good… No more talking to anyone, at all, without my permission eh?” Tommy commanded with a resolute nod. All you could do was nod back as he rocked his hips against yours, his fingernails dug into your flesh as your walls squeezed his size. 

“Mr Shelby” you whined out. 

“You’re mine” Tommy growled animalistically as he leant in to bite your neck. “Only fucking mine. You wanted my attention? You fucking got it” he grunted as he rutted himself deep inside of you. 

Your eyes rolled back as you held onto your husband tightly as he drew blood from your neck. The pain dissolved as the pleasure quickly built up inside of your core. Your mouth had fallen open as you were moaning out shamelessly, Tommy slapped your ass and you squealed. 

“You’re clenching around me so tightly darling, you want to milk me empty eh? Get yourself pregnant?” Tommy asked, his own breathing heavy as he pounded himself into you. 

“Yes Mr Shelby!”

“Keep on squeezing me then, just like that” Tommy coached as his hips thrusted at an immaculate speed. “Maybe another baby in this house would keep you tamed. Let’s give Charlie a little brother or sister eh?” He suggested, a proud smirk on his lips.

All you could do was hum in compliance as you clenched around him. It was so slippery you had to hold your body in place. His balls were slapping against you as you felt your climax climbing as high as it could. The scream from your hot lips echoed throughout the room as you held onto Tommy for dear life. He grunted in response, and shortly followed through with his own climax. 

Your body fell dead on top of him as you tried to catch your breath back. Through deep breaths, your chest rose and fell as your eyes remained shut. Tommy breathed out, his hands caressed your lower back as he inhaled your scent. He was still buried inside of you, he could feel your fluids drip out slowly. 

“Fuck, that was something else, wasn’t it my love?” Tommy asked teasingly as he patted your rear. 

You whimpered, tear stained eyes as you looked up to your husband, he smiled softly to you, you smiled softly back. He guided your hips up, his coated cock slipped out of your swollen entrance with a pop and he helped you onto your feet. 

After he slipped his member back into his pants, Tommy guided you to bend over the bed, you winced as you followed through and he examined you. Down on his knees, Tommy pulled your lips apparent with two fingers as he watched your mixed fluids drip out of you. His hands caressed over your abused skin as he stood back up again.

“If only you could see how beautiful you look my dear” Tommy sighed, his voice dark and husky. 

He pulled you back up and held you in his arms, your flustered body caved against him. Your knees buckled as Tommy held your weak stance up, he murmured to you, his face rubbed against yours like a needy cat.  

“You wanna come down for the rest of the meeting?” Tommy hummed in the crook of your neck. 

The thought of you going back down there frightened you, the humiliation of this sudden occurrence felt too overwhelming. Having all eyes on you would cause you to have a breakdown without a doubt, you knew they heard you, your cries had echoed to the fields. 

“No Mr Shelby” you answered timidly, sniffling to yourself as you tried to cry silently. 

“That’s alright, you rest up, you look exhausted. I’ll come check on you later, I have some business to attend to after this, okay?” Tommy spoke innocently as he led you to the bed. 

Tommy helped you in, you winced at the friction of your rear to the sheets but made no comment to your husband’s kindness. The covers were tucked in around you, Tommy petted your hair to the side and smiled at you. 

“Thank you Mr Shelby” your smile shaked, cheeks still a dark shade of red. 

“Sleep well my love” Tommy whispered before he planted a tender kiss on your lips. 

It’s what you missed so badly, instinctively, your arms reached up from under the sheets and tried to snake around his back. But your body felt so weak, you couldn’t bring yourself up. Tommy hummed and pulled your body up, his hold on your lower back as the sheets slipped down your body already, his tongue slipped straight down your throat as your tongue massaged him. As you moaned directly into his mouth, Tommy pressed your faces together as he gently laid you back onto the bed. 

“I love you” you whispered once more as your head fell deep into the pillow, your tired eyes remained shut. A low hum echoed out of Tommy as you quickly fell asleep. 

Tommy walked back down into the reading room. He knew everyone had heard everything, his eyes locked with Arthur’s. As he shot him a glare, Arthur lowered his head submissively as Tommy continued on with his discussions and concerns to his family.

[brummiereader]

Binding Love

(Masterlist)

Summary: Soon to be divorced and co-parenting with the notorious leader of the Peaky Blinders was never going to be a breeze. But when a number of unanswered calls and a string of dead bodies surface in your attempts to move on, you gain the attention of a detective and the pressing matter of his colleagues whereabouts, with whom you had spent one evening on a date with. Promising you witness protection in return for the evidence he was sure you had on his sole suspect, your husband. Your future is left in the balance when Tommy's paranoia and inability to let you go makes itself known as your codependency continues to show no signs of surrendering. Will you let yourself be free of the man whose love for you has consumed him? Do you even want to be?

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, smut, psychological abuse, murder.

Authors Note: This is a Dark!Tommy series that some readers may find triggering. Please review the warnings before continuing.

Teaser Trailer

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven (completed series)

Gif credit: @mushroomseb. Go check out their amazing work!

[cillianhead]

Sitting Pretty || Jonathan Crane x Reader

summary: Needy and so incredibly horny, you seek out your boyfriend to treat your ailments.

Here's a little short thing for y'all <3

Warnings: Smut, cockwarming, graphic language, swearing, unprotected P in V, slight degradation, praising, there's a bit of slapping but nothing too serious, adult content.

18+ Minors DNI.

Seeking out Jonathan was pretty easy, he finally had a day off of work for once but he was in his study anyway, reading over medical documents, prescriptions, legal forms, and all that boring stuff you didn't particularly care for. He hadn't paid any attention to you all day, a small peck in the morning before he slipped out of bed and went into his home office to work was all he had given you today.

"Jonny?" You asked meekly, creaking the door of his study open. You were in one of his button up shirts, though none of the buttons were done up, leaving your bare chest and stomach on display. He looked up from his work, quirking an eyebrow at you. Just the sight of him, his glasses sitting on his pretty nose and still in his pyjamas as he worked. He looked so handsome, it made you squeeze your bare thighs together.

"What is it, bunny?" Jonathan tilted his head at you, waving you over with a curl of his finger. Your feet padded over to him and you could feel his hungry eyes on your tits, nipples hard from the cold air.

"Need you..." Was all you could get out as you sat on his warm lap, an arm of his slipped around your waist. "Please... you've barely... given me any attention at all today, Jonny..."

Jonathan just smirked as he signed off another bit of paperwork, humming, not giving his full attention to you. You frowned grumpily. "Is that so?" He knew you were all worked up, he knew it from the second you walked into the room with that sad little look on your face. "Well too bad, too busy with work, my love. Maybe later." He mumbled dismissively.

"Please!" You cried, leaning your head into the crook of his neck, squeezing your eyes shut. Whining like a needy brat. "I'll take anything you can give me please... please... just need you inside of me, I'll be good, Jonny..."

Jonathan sighed, knowing how you were when you were horny. You wouldn't leave him alone until you got what you want, got what you needed. "I'll tell you what, you can sit on my cock but you're not allowed to move, do you hear me?" He grabbed you by your chin sternly, pen still slotted between his fingers. "No playing around, sweetheart." You just nodded feverishly, you quickly pulled down his pyjama pants, his cock was already hard and red for you. Biting your lip, you slipped down your underwear, letting it fall onto the floor as you ground your wet cunt against his head until you sank down on him, back pressed against his clothed chest. You let out a low moan, squeezing around him, you could hear him take in a deep breath through his nose as he kept writing, knowing your pussy had an intoxicating effect over him.

"F-Feels so good, Jonathan... thank you," You mumbled, trying your best to keep your aching hips still. Your clit throbbed with need as the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix in the most deliciously painful way.

"Now you've got what you want you can just sit there and look pretty for me, darling." Jonathan pinched your sensitive nipple, you gasped at this, clenching around him causing him to let out a throaty groan. "You've gotta stop doing that, baby, or you won't be allowed to sit here anymore." You squeezed his cock again at the nickname which earned you a hard slap on your clit, making you cry.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... you just feel too good..." You whined, throwing your head back to rest on his shoulder. He could tell you were struggling to sit still, could tell you still needed more.

You sat there for a little while longer, being good, being obedient while he did his work and his dick sat inside you, cunt hugging it tightly and needily. But you were growing more and more restless by the second.

"Touch your clit f'me," Jonathan whispered deep into your ear. "Want you to cum while sitting on my cock."

"C-Can't..."

"Don't tell me you want me to do it for you too?" He grunted, clearly displeased with your answer. You shook your head with embarrassment. "Pathetic slut, can't even touch yourself, takin' my cock but you also need my fingers too? Greedy bitch." He gave you a smack on your cheek, face stinging, as he slipped his fingers between your sticky folds and rubbed perfect circles on your swollen clit. He was so hot when he was mean.

"Thank you... thank you so much..." You were a stupid mess, wanting to bounce on his cock so bad. He was touching you so perfectly and you hated how it turned you on even further how he continued to do his work even with you sitting on him, his cock fully sheathed inside you and his fingers working your clit, working you closer to your oncoming orgasm. You were thankful for whatever he gave you. Shifting your hips, trying to readjust, to get more friction of some kind, as you felt yourself on the brink of cumming, you got another hard slap on your clit before he continued touching you. "Ow!"

"Remember what I fucking said about no moving." Jonathan grumbled, you felt his dick twitch inside you, you knew he was close too, getting off in the way your pussy perfectly squeezed him.

You were dripping all over him, so wet for him. He twitched inside of you again and suddenly before you could really process what was going on he slammed his pen down and pushed you down over the desk, pushing your face down into the expensive mahogany as he pulled his hips out before slamming right back in. Jonathan couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take the way your pussy squeezed him, he was holding back bucking into you that entire time, so he finally gave in and started fucking you.

"Oh!" You felt yourself unraveling, creaming around him. "Yes!" Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he fucked into you roughly.

"Fuckin' take it, that's it, little girl, take my big cock," Jonathan groaned, slamming in and out of you, his cock hitting your cervix perfectly and heavy balls hitting your clit with a perfect rhythm. "That's a good girl, so fucking good for me, gonna fill you with my cum." You were writhing on the desk, your pussy gushing for him. "So wet, so wet for me, gonna cum... fuck... gonna cum...!" He groaned, spilling his seed into you, filling you with his sweet cum. Stilling his hips completely as he let out his own whiny sounds of pleasure, despite his rough treatment of you, his whines were high pitched and a bit pathetic, it only turned you on further the way his rough exterior melted as he came. You squeezed him further, your own orgasm still going on, milking him of all he's got and smiling to yourself, knowing you got what you want. "Fucking hell." He whispered.

"Thank you... thank you!" You moaned and you could feel his nails digging into your hips as he breathed deeply, coming down from his high. Your clit throbbing and your head spinning, you gasped for air. "Thank you so much... Jonny... love you..."

"So grateful for my cum aren't you?" He hummed, pulling you down with him, down onto his office chair again, softening cock still inside you. Cum dripping out of you slowly. "What a sweet thing you are..." He sniffed your hair, burying his nose in your neck. You just leaned back on him, fucked out and all dumb. Your mind was blank with pure contentment. "Such a dumb pretty little girl... gonna make you my wife." He praised, placing a sloppy kiss on your lips before he slid the chair over to his desk and continued his work.

-

I hope you enjoyed!! <3

[copinghex]

Under his wings | T.S

Summary: The peculiar details of your relationship are nothing but small inconveniences compared to how much Tommy loves you | dark!AU

If there's something you admire the most about Tommy, it's his eyes, they're blue like the sky, deep as the ocean and they're never, ever bright. Something about being under his gaze felt warm in the best ways, you felt protected, desired and cared for, a fact you once voiced while he slowly thrust into you. 

"I like when you look at me like that," you confessed and bit your lip, a little shy for not being able to look away. 

"Like what?" 

"Like- like you own me," 

"I do own you," was his answer before he sped up his pace. 

Although you like to be under Tommy's gaze, sometimes it makes you shy, scared even. You don't want to disappoint him, nor to make him embarrassed for having you around, after all, he's so handsome, smart and cunning, and what are you? 

No, Tommy doesn't like when you think low of yourself, you're his sweetheart, his doll, his pretty girl, but… 

"Pretty girls don't go out alone to behave like whores," "My doll does she's fucking told and doesn't get whiny about it, ain't that right?" "You're my sweetheart when you smile and cheer up, I’m not sure if I like this pout." 

He's probably right most of the time, you don't get any reasons to throw tantrums, everything you want, he will give you, jewels, shoes, flowers, himself, "Tell me what you need, love." he always says. 

Tommy never denies you any material goods, himself though, it's a privilege he sometimes takes away. His answer to minor infringements, such as smiling too much to another man, disappearing from his sight in public or being an unmannerly brat in events, is loneliness. 

A couple of times you've been treated like an object of the house, the furniture Tommy walked by barely noticing, he knows you learnt your lesson when you're on the verge of tears. 

"Don't ignore me anymore, please," you pleaded, on your knees at the side of his office chair. 

He looked at you when was done with his cigarette. 

"You know why you're there, love?" he held your chin and you nodded. 

"I made you worried at the fundraising, I went outside to take an air, I- I didn't even go alone, Polly was with me," 

"But?" he arched his eyebrows, ready to go along with the punishment if you gave the wrong answer. 

"But I should have warned you, I'm sorry, Tom," you held his hand on your face, "I'm so sorry," 

"Come here, my doll," he pulled you to his lap with a pleased face. 

After punishment, you always have Tommy all to yourself. It's hard to endure, surely, but it's for your betterment, everything Tommy does is, you had no doubt of that. 

Or at least, perhaps, not until this moment.

"Did you hear what I said?" his eyes switch between you and the young, new driver hired two weeks ago. 

"P-please, Tommy, he was just being nice," you sob at the boy's awful state. 

"Go back inside." he drawles and pulls a gun out of his coat, "You're not allowed in the garden without my permission anymore," 

"But-" 

With only a look, he silents you. On the short way home, tears fall on the grass. The second you close the heavy doors behind your back, you hear a gunshot outside.

[mypoisonedvine]

Your Tommy’s little pet and he takes you to the races with him and gets pissed when you try to run away from him and fucks you in a somewhat public place. And it makes you regret even thinking about trying to run away from him because he’s Thomas mf Shelby

OH you filthy little genius. i love this

warnings: DARK NONCON SMUT 18+ only, public sex, implied kidnapping/captivity, breeding kink, possessiveness

"Did you really think you could get away from me?" he growled in your ear. "Did you really think I'd ever let you leave me?"

"Tommy, please, n-not here," you whimpered, reaching back to try to push his hips away to stop him from fucking you so hard, "people are looking at us..."

He grabbed your hand and roughly forced it back in front of you, holding it down against the railing that looked out over the track. "Let them look, darling," he purred, "doesn't change a fuckin' thing... you're mine. If Tommy Shelby wants to use his woman, doesn't matter where we are or who's watching... m'gonna use you how I like."

You tried to hide your burning face in your arms, whimpering as Tommy drove into you hard and fast; he straightened himself, no longer draping his body over yours, and you felt even more exposed by that somehow. It would be obvious to anyone who looked what he was doing to you, and anyone who heard the loud clapping of skin on skin was going to look...

The more you avoided the thought of how many people must be watching you now, seeing Tommy take you so brutally, the more you were forced to think about how he felt inside you-- how his cock stretched you open and drove deep within you until your legs began to shake. If it weren't for his tight grip on your hips holding you up, you probably would've collapsed onto the dirty floor of the betting parlor.

One of his hands began to run up your back, fingers petting your spine through your thin dress-- over the roar of the race, you could still hear his low hum of satisfaction. Against all logic, your body responded to his touch so well, goosebumps breaking out across your skin wherever his fingers roamed. He leaned down over you again, wanting you to hear clearly whatever he had to say.

"When everyone knows you're mine, there's nowhere for you to go," he explained lowly. "There's nowhere you can run from me, love-- they all know you're my woman. And they know how far I'll go to keep you."

You shuddered, hating the moan that suddenly left your mouth-- and hating more that he heard it loud and clear, as he made obvious with his proud little chuckle.

"How about I breed you right here, hm?" he purred as he pet your hair out of your face, groaning beside your ear. "In front of all these people... how about I fill you up nice and deep you can have a little Shelby of your own?"

You figured he really must have no shame at all: it was bad enough that he was fucking you here, but to conceive a child at the race track? Would he stoop that low just to degrade you? But, then again, he'd been promising to get you pregnant since the start-- for all you knew, you already were.

You had plenty of shame, though; it ran through you and made your stomach turn, yet it made a pang of heavy pleasure hit between your legs. It took you this long to realize that the humiliation of being fucked in public like this was spurring on your orgasm, rather than hindering it. Apparently, Tommy had awoken something rather twisted within you...

"C'mon then, love," he groaned roughly, "let me feel you come for me-- say my name."

You whined, knowing from experience that you were better off doing as he said now before he forced you to. "Tommy," you moaned, but he

"Nice and loud, darling-- let them all hear you," he encouraged. "Say it!"

"Tommy!" you cried, tossing your head back as your walls pulsed around him-- you kept your eyes shut tight, terrified to see how many eyes were lingering on you. He moaned proudly through a smile as he came inside you, wrapping one of his arms around your neck to keep you still as he buried himself as far inside you as he could reach.

"Good girl," he praised as he caught his breath, kissing the side of your face sweetly. "I bet every man here wishes you were his, wishes he could make you scream like that. But every man knows exactly who you belong to... so they'll just having to keep dreaming, won't they?"

[zablife]

One Way or Another

Summary: When your brother Bonnie warns you about the darkness lurking beneath Tommy Shelby’s charming exterior, you heed his advice and break up. However, a vengeful Tommy vows to get you back and his ruthless tactics are worse than you could have imagined. 

Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see dark!Tommy manipulate a reader into staying with him using Charlie as leverage. 

Warnings: language, dark!Tommy, manipulative behavior, allusion to non con (no graphic description), assault, discussion of pregnancy and adoption

You'd noticed the handsome, blue-eyed man the moment you and your family arrived in Small Heath. Intrigued by the mystery surrounding his enormous wealth and influence, you disobeyed your father's orders and began sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of Mr. Thomas Shelby. He soon took note of you as well, lavishing attention and gifts on you.

You even met his son Charlie a few times in his father's office. Giving voices to the toy horses and soldiers he would bring, the chubby toddler would laugh and grasp at your cheeks. You loved his laughter and often wished he was your own child. "You're a natural, sweetheart,” Tommy praised with a wide grin, which made you anxious for something more with him. You found yourself daydreaming about becoming Mrs. Shelby and giving him another baby.

Tommy wasn’t shy about expressing his own desire to you. A bottle of whisky and a sour mood had led him to confess that Charlie was not his son. He claimed it was an error in his judgement of character that would not happen again. This time he wanted things done in the proper way with the right woman, he said. You’d melted on the spot when he took your head between his large palms and kissed you full. His advances would escalate in the following meetings as he learned of your purity, more enamored with you than ever. You knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to make you his completely.

However, someone in camp must have taken note of your frequent visits to Shelby properties because word quickly got back to your brother, Bonnie. "Y/n, what are you doing with him? He's not good for ya," he said furrowing his brow in concern.

"What do you mean, Bon?" you asked curiously.

“Don’t you know? You must,” he insisted, underestimating your youthful naivete. 

"He's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Y/n. He's responsible for cuttings and beatings…murders. No one is safe round him. Not even you," he warned ominously.

"Surely not," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy was an upstanding businessman, or so you thought.

"Y/n, please listen to me," your older brother begged, sliding closer to you. "I wasn't supposed to tell you,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “but Da and I are here to kill his enemies. And there's a long list. You don't want anything to do with Tommy Shelby, trust me," he stressed twisting his cap in his hands. 

After a lengthy conversation about everything he knew, including the murder of Tommy’s first wife, you were shaking with fear. Bonnie wasn’t easily spooked and it bothered you to see him this upset. “Alright, I'll keep my distance," you agreed, witnessing his agitation.

Bonnie sighed with relief, but you noted an apologetic tinge to his voice when he said, "I only want to keep you safe.”

You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," you assured him and he relaxed back into his chair.

True to your word, you broke things off with Tommy the next day. You tried to be careful, explaining it in every conceivable way except the real reason. In your usual self effacing manner you babbled away to ease your nerves. "I'm much too young for you, Tommy. You'll get bored of me and everything I don't know. Surely you want someone more...experienced," you blushed.

Although he seemed to listen intently without judgment, inwardly he was fuming. It was your omission that told him everything he needed to know. Someone close to you had warned you off and he was certain it was your father or brother, perhaps both.

As you left his office that day, Tommy began plotting to get you back. Preferably in a manner that would punish you and your family. He would win you one way or another. Gambling was his livelihood after all and the odds were always in his favor.

----------------------

Two weeks later...

You heard Tommy's footsteps thudding on the stairs behind you, slowly and methodically. The rhythm pounded inside your skull like a drum, driving you to the brink of hysteria and quickening your own steps. He was frighteningly calm despite your obvious distress as though he enjoyed humiliating you. 

"Come back to bed, love," he urged in a saccharine voice that turned your stomach.  

Your body shivered in reply as you headed toward the sitting room in search of your coat. Blinking back the tears at your lash line and biting your tongue until it bled, you promised yourself you wouldn't let him see you cry. It had been the same tactic you used that morning when your father admitted he'd gambled away your innocence in a scrap metal yard when Tommy goaded him into a coin toss.

"You're going to allow this?" Bonnie yelled at your father, pacing the floor in anxious rage reserved for fight days. 

Placing yourself between him and the two blinders who had come to collect you, you mumbled, “I'll be alright.” It was a meager attempt to convince him and yourself. Turning to your father you asked, “It’s only one night?”

Watching from the corner of the room, deathly still, your father replied "I hope so." But his eyes were wide and filled with terror, the likes of which you'd never seen. 

A harsh tug on your elbow startled you out of yourself as Tommy towered over you. "Where do you think you're going, eh?" he asked tightening his grip, all attempts at gentle tactics now vanished.

"I'd like to go home to my family," you choked out desperately, fingers ghosting over his in a vain attempt to soften his grasp. If he held any affection for you, perhaps he would allow you to leave with a shred of dignity.

He smirked wickedly at your cowering form, “I don’t think you understand, love. This is your home now." Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear to reveal a bite mark on your shoulder he added, "We're just getting started, you and I." His thumb traced a dark bruise forming higher up on your neck and you winced as he pressed into it. He placed a kiss to your lips and murmured against you, “Going to tell me how much you loved having me inside you, filling you up?” 

His nose brushed against yours as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady your voice. “Tommy, how can you expect me to stay after you hurt me like that?” you asked, eyes burning with tears as you relived the pain inflicted on your body and heart as you realized he’d never meant a word he said to you when you were courting.

“Everyone’s first time is like that, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped,” he replied, caressing your cheek. You felt the bile rising in your throat as you thought of how rough he’d been, holding you down and rutting into you like an animal without any regard for your comfort. 

Mustering all your courage you asserted, “I don’t want it like that ever again.”

Tommy chuckled, “Every woman says that until she wants a baby. Then you'll be begging for it.”

You shook your head as you spat, “I don’t want a family with you.”

His eyes narrowed, large hand sliding down over your midsection as he tsked, “A bit late for that. You might already be carrying my child. What will you do then?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t ask anything of you and I don't want..."

"I don't give a fuck what you want," he interrupted, eyes blazing with fury. "You belong to me,” he hissed, hand snaking down to your throat. 

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted, fighting against him. You were paralyzed by the feeling of your airway constricting under his crushing grip, reducing you to pathetic whimpers. He squeezed until your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, your fingertips scrabbling for his wrist and clawing uselessly. 

Leaning to whisper into the shell of your ear, hot breath fanned over you along with his terrifying words, “You don’t want to make things worse now, do you?”

Just as your vision turned dark, he relinquished you and you fell to the floor gasping for breath. Between coughing fits, you became aware of the housekeeper, Mary, standing in the room. When Tommy had summoned her you weren’t sure. Perhaps you had lost consciousness at some point because she stood with Charlie in her arms and the ringing in your ears soon turned to shrill crying. 

“Ch-Charlie?” you asked, reaching for the child with a hint of a smile in hopes of cheering him.The brightness returning to your eyes told Tommy all he needed to know. With clenched jaw, he  jerked his chin and Mary left the room as quickly as she had appeared. “What’s she doing?” you mumbled, attempting to stand despite the fuzzy feeling swimming inside your head.

Tommy didn’t answer, pretending as though he hadn’t heard you. He picked up the phone, adopting a business like tone, and began, “Good evening, put me through to Sister Agatha.” 

You could still hear Charlie’s desperate sobs echoing down the corridor as Tommy greeted the woman on the other end of the line. Standing on wobbly legs, you hesitated with uncertainty, wishing to comfort the boy. However, your attention was brought back to the cruel words you overheard next. Your jaw dropped as you heard Tommy proclaim, “Send someone to collect the child tonight.”

You scrambled toward him, a look of horror crossing your face. “What have you done?”

Tommy stood like a brick wall, cold and impenetrable. “What necessity dictates, my darling.”

“I d-don’t understand,” you stuttered in confusion, unable to think clearly while being tormented by Charlie's unending screams. Finally you begged softly, "May I hold him? He's upset." You stared at Tommy's stone like features, wondering how he could be so heartless toward a baby.

Taking his time to light a cigarette and toss the match into the fireplace, Tommy smoked quietly for a few moments before ushering Mary back into the room. He took Charlie from her and placed the toddler in your trembling arms. Within a few minutes the boy settled, his chubby cheek resting upon your shoulder. As your hand caressed his golden curls, his cries turned to quiet hiccups and you felt the gentle motion of his thumb sucking before his limbs grew heavy with sleep.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” you pleaded as fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “Why are you behaving this way?”

Tommy stalked to you in three long strides, forcing your chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue stare cutting into you sharply, he scolded, “You’re the one forcing me to do these things.”

You tried to shake your head in adamant denial, but his harsh grip kept you in place. Through pinched cheeks you sputtered, “I never told you…”

“But you did,” he bit back. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to leave? That you didn’t want a family with me?” He threw your chin away in disgust as your brain reeled.

“You’re twisting my words…” you protested, voice cracking with emotion. Looking down at the sleeping child in your arms you began, “Of course I didn't mean Charlie..."

Just then a knock came at the door, followed by two nuns announcing themselves as representatives of St. Hilda’s. You backed into a corner, holding Charlie to your body protectively, heart beating wildly as you thought of a way to save him.

“What a darling little boy," one of the nuns chirped despite the late hour. Then she added carefully, "May I take him now?”

Tommy caught your eyes from across the room, “Go on, sweetheart,” he urged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” 

----------------------

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[i-try-to-write-stuff]

Stolen Wife

Synopsis – Tommy Shelby is married to Grace but he becomes obsessed with Y/N, wife of Reuben Fitch, Tommy’s business partner in the U.S. who is unaware of his actual “business”

This blog supports Palestine. Zionists are not welcome here.

As soon as the papers were signed for new consignment delivery and the ink was dry on the paper, Tommy decided to throw a curveball, to get to know his elusive new business partner.

“Grace is throwing a party for some charity. She asked me to invite you and your wife.” Tommy said carelessly.

“Party…?” Reuben asked in confusion, he had never mixed business with pleasure or even family.

“Don’t you Americans have over the top exuberant parties?” Tommy taunted the former soldier.

“We do, but I don’t believe in getting my family involved with the people I do my business with…” Reuben tried to reject the offer as politely as he could.

But little did he know, Thomas Shelby was not going to give it up so easily.

“It is a charity ball for orphaned kids nothing dangerous, I’m sure your Mrs can handle one night with the Shelbys” Tommy cajoled.

“Mr. Shelby, I don’t mix my work with my personal life. It is better that way and I certainly do not involve my wife in anything related to this side of my business.” Rueben tried to argue his way out this predicament.

“It is not going to be anything illegal or even borderline illegal, I have promised Grace that I will do no shady dealings at the ball.” Tommy reiterated.

“I really don’t mix my business and personal life and I would like to keep it that way.” Rueben did not budge. 

Tommy lit a cigarette, giving himself time to think of any other way of getting insight into Rueben’s life, any pressure point that can be exploited if needed. Tommy’s other attempts had been in vain; soldiers in Rueben’s rank had been tight-lipped about everything, something he admired about Rueben and his tightly reigned empire.

Tommy took out the invite from his drawer and handed it to Rueben as a last resort.

“Take this, will you, I don’t want Grace finding it here. I will tell her you are busy” Tommy added defeatedly.

Rueben pocketed the invite not wanting to further prolong the conversation with the king of Birmingham.

Ruben got up and held out his hand to shake Tommy’s to read his temperament. Tommy shook Rueben’s hand with mild annoyance, annoyance that he hadn’t been able to pierce the armor around Fitch and his gang.

Rueben gave Tommy his charming smile, he was relieved that Tommy dropped the subject.  He was never going to let his two worlds mix. You were too precious for him to be tainted with what his not-so-legal life is filled with, the grotesque violence, the depravity, the drugs among other things.

Tommy decided that he needed to find another way to find any weak spot in Rueben’s Gang.

What he did not expect was for Grace to get Rueben to the ball.

When he saw Rueben at the ball, he was astonished…Apparently, Grace had run into the loving couple at the marketplace and somehow convinced Rueben’s wife to come to the ball. Tommy could not describe the feeling when he saw you for the first time…There you were looking glorious and innocent like a princess in a purple dress. He gulped visibly, he now understood why Rueben kept you away.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

Legitimate

Chapter 3

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Tommy’s thirst for power leads him overseas to the States, where he's after more than just business. What starts as a strategic move soon becomes something far more complex.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. Dark Slow Burn

Dark Tommy Shelby x Reader

🚬

You straighten your portfolio folders for the tenth time, aligning them beside the charcuterie board—a meticulous arrangement of fine cheeses, smoked meats, and glistening slices of ripe fruit, each piece placed with almost obsessive care. The faint aroma of freshly baked cookies drifts from the kitchen, weaving through the clean, crisp scent of furniture polish. Golden light filters through sheer curtains, softening the sharp edges of the room and glinting off the polished glass coffee table.

You pause for a moment, glancing over the living area and wonder if anyone ever truly notices these small touches—the invisible effort that turns a house into a dream.

A faint knock pulls your attention to the entryway, the sound reverberating through the stillness. You glance at your watch—it’s early for the showing, but perhaps that’s a good sign. Eagerness often signals serious intent to buy, or so you hope.

You had tried to dissuade the sellers from an open house. In your experience, they rarely resulted in a sale—but they insisted, and you complied.

Crossing the room, you weave through the staged perfection, smoothing your expression into a practiced smile. As you reach the door and pull it open a faint familiar scent of cigarettes drifts toward you, catching your nose just before the figure steps into view.

“Good afternoon,” Tommy begins smoothly, his accent peeking out just slightly. You feel your smile waver, but you hold it steady, refusing to let it falter.

Since the unexpected gift appeared at your door, you hadn’t stopped working with him. He never mentioned it, and you made sure not to either. No thanks, no questions about how he found your address or why he sent it. You simply pretended it never happened, reminding yourself this was strictly business—nothing more.

“Hello, Tommy,” you greet him, your voice a touch stiffer than intended. The question nags at the edge of your thoughts—how did he know about the open house? But, like the wine and flowers, you push it aside. Better to let it go. “I didn’t expect to see you today. I thought you passed on this listing when I showed it to you a few days ago.”

His gaze shifts past you, sharp and detached, the faint tang of cigarettes trailing him like a signature. It clings to the air, a phantom of habits you’d come to associate with him. He always had one—always—perched between his fingers or tucked at the corner of his mouth. You’d lost count of how many times you’d told him to put it out, your voice firm, surprisingly he always complied. But now, with his hands empty and his mouth free, he looked odd.

"I think I might have spoken in haste," he says casually, brushing past you with a renewed focus on the staircase. "I wasn’t sold on it before, but I’ve had a few days to sleep on it."

He pauses, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Besides, I can’t afford to waste time. I need to lock something down—sooner rather than later.”

You nod silently, hesitating for a moment, debating whether to follow him. But you stay put, watching as he ascends the stairs with an unhurried pace. At the top, he stops and glances back, those icy blue eyes sweeping over you and the room below, like a king surveying his kingdom.

🚬

The large home is a buzzes of life as more prospective buyers arrive. Smiling, you greet each one with polished charm, answering the same questions over and over with practiced enthusiasm.

They’re all the same—polite, curious, but ultimately deterred by the one thing you can’t control, the price. The house is beautiful, the location ideal, yet the price remains the death knell, reverberating through every conversation.

“Um, are the previous owners smokers?” a blonde woman asks, cutting through your rehearsed routine. Her question catches you off guard, and you blink.

“Oh, no,” you reply, a nervous chuckle slipping out as you steady your smile. “Why do you ask?”

“I smelled smoke when I went to check out the upstairs,” she whispers, leaning in far too close. Her hairspray mingles with scent of her perfume.

Your eyes instinctively scan the crowd, searching for Tommy. Of course, it had to be him.

“That’s odd,” you say, keeping your tone light. “Maybe someone stepped outside for a cigarette earlier, and the scent drifted back in.”

“I don’t think so. It was so strong I had to get away from it. I can’t even smell it down here,” she insists.

“Well, that’s not good,” you concede with a polite smile. “I’ll go check it out.”

You don’t wait for her response. Weaving through the crowd in the hallway, you ascend the stairs with measured steps. Your grip tightens on the railing as you inhale deeply, searching for the faint trace of smoke still lingering in the air.

At the landing, you pause, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. You’re sure you look ridiculous, but you keep your movements subtle, flashing a tight smile when nearby buyers glance your way.

The scent pulls you toward the far end of the hallway. Every door stands wide open as you pass, people milling about inside or out, but the study remains closed. You pause outside it, the smell unmistakably stronger here. You already know what you’ll find inside, yet the dread of confrontation roots you in place.

🚬

The door creaks with your intrusion, its hinges groaning softly in protest. You snap it shut behind you, the soft click blending into the muted buzz of activity filtering up from below.

Tommy stands across from you, leaning against the desk, his face partially obscured by the curling tendrils of smoke rising from his cigarette as he speaks softly into his phone. His eyes flick to yours as you hesitate, unsure of what to do. Your gaze drifts to the cigarette between his fingers, irritation rising slowly, curling upward like the smoke, but you swallow it.

You’ve asked him countless times not to smoke in the house—he knows better. You’re sure of it.

You turn away, your eyes fixating on the window as you storm toward it, the sharp click of your heels echoing against the hardwood floor. Your hands move swiftly, flicking the locks open before gripping the heavy frame, straining as you push it. The window resists, the frame creaking under pressure, and you push harder, determined, the sound of your struggle almost drowning out his conversation.

It finally gives with a frustrating groan, and a cool breeze rushes in, cutting through the smoke with a welcome sharpness. Outside, children laugh and shout as they play in the yard next door, their mother watching from the porch. The scene stirs something faint and unwelcome—a memory of what you once thought you wanted but could never quite hold on to.

As you stare out the window, his reflection catches your eye, making you gasp. At some point, his phone disappeared, the call ended. You hadn’t noticed him approach, sly and silent as a fox stalking unseen.

“Um, I don’t think the sellers would appreciate that,” you say, nodding toward the cigarette in his hand.

He exhales slowly, the smoke curling upward in lazy spirals. You wave the air in front of your face, trying to push it away.

“You didn’t tell me not to,” he replies coolly, his gaze steady and unreadable.

“Well,” you say, your voice quieter, “it wouldn’t matter to me if you smoke here—if you were buying it.”

He takes another slow drag, his silence stretching just long enough to make you uncomfortable. “I’m still thinking.”

You suppress a sigh. He’s been like this since the beginning, indecisive and inscrutable.

“You’re always thinking,” you say, a smart edge to your voice.

For a fraction of a second, his eyes flicker toward you, a slight tightening of his jaw that you almost miss, before he looks away, lost in the haze of smoke. “Some decisions need a little more clarity,” he says, his tone calm, almost dismissive.

Your lips press into a thin line. Your chest tightens with frustration, but you force yourself to nod. “I see… Well if that’s the case then I think we should end our business here.”

“You promised to find me a house.” He retorts.

“And as I’ve told you before Mr. Shelby-”

“Tommy,” he corrects a bit firmly.

“Mr. Shelby,” you reaffirm. “I can’t help you. I’ve tried. I’ve showed you house after house, but none have suited your taste.”

“So you’re just a quitter then?” Tommy asks, his brow cocked at you quizzically.

"I’m not a quitter," you reply with a sigh, your frustration seeping into your words. "I’ve done everything I can—rearranged my schedule, prioritized you over others, even passed on buyers who were likely more serious—all because you said you needed to buy a house immediately. But now… it’s starting to feel like you’re playing games with me, and I just don’t understand why."

"Still sounds like quitting," he challenges, his voice maddeningly calm.

You bite back the sharp response that rises to your lips, exhaling slowly. “If I knew what you wanted, maybe I could help you more. But as it is… I think it’s best you find another agent.”

He doesn’t react immediately, his gaze drifting to the cigarette in his hand. "Did you drink it yet?" he asks, his tone so casual it throws you off balance.

You hesitate, caught off guard by the sudden question. Why is he bringing this up now?

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He taps out his cigarette, a defiant grin playing at the corners of his lips. Your frown deepens as he taps the cigarette against the hardwood desk. The spot where it lands seems destined to leave a mark. "Though I thought we agreed to share a glass once we finally closed on a house. Guess I’ll have to send another bottle when you finally close the deal for me."

“What?” You blink, hesitating, your brow furrowing. “Are you saying you want to buy this house?”

“I wanted to confirm a few things first. But now? I’m confident in my decision.”

"This is great!" you exclaim, pulling out your phone to quickly text the seller. There’s something odd in his tone, but you push it aside, focusing on what matters: he seems serious about the house, which means commission and an end to these awkward interactions.

“I’ll let the sellers know and get the contract to you ASAP. I’ll send you an email, and once you e-sign, we can start the process. I’ll make sure you get the keys by the end of the day.”

“Slow your horses,” he says, his voice steady, almost amused. “I’m a bit old-fashioned. I want something physical, something I can hold and touch with my hands.”

His gaze lingers, dragging over you like a weight. There was something in his eyes—hunger, maybe. Lust.

“I-I can do that,” you manage, the awkward stammer betraying a calm you don’t feel. You shifted, dismissing the thought. You’d been wrong before, mortifyingly so. It was just him, you told yourself. Just his presence, how he was. “Where… do you want me to take it?”

He doesn’t answer right away, as though savoring your words. When he finally speaks, his tone feels deeper, and his eyes dim with an unfamiliar darkness you can’t place. “My office. I’ll text you the address.”

You stay back as he moves to leave, pausing only to pull a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it coolly, with his back turned to you. You don’t stop him—it’s his house now. When the door swings shut behind him, the air feels lighter, clearer. Yet the unease he leaves behind clings to you.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Do You Know How to Bend? | Raymond Leon x fem!Reader

summary: You're working the streets in Dayton (the poorest timezone) when your old client and famous Timekeeper, Raymond Leon, comes calling just to spite you. He takes pleasure in reminding you of your differences and takes pleasure in seeing you struggle.

warnings: Mentions unsafe sex and paid sex. Derogatory/sexist words used for and against sex-workers. Slut-shamming. Smut.

Word count: 4331k+

I Don't Want to Be- Gavin McGraw 🎶

Lunch- Billie Eilish 🎵

*Inspired by the line Billie Eilish's song "Lunch": Don't want to break it, just want it to bend. / Do you know how to bend?*

“Well!” A low, arrogant voice pulls your attention away from your next client. You pause, recognizing the voice and set your mouth in a perturbed frown. “I thought you’d be retired by now, Miss Y/L/N. You must be pushing 50 at this point, right?” The man laughs softly at your expense, it’s short and sounds almost like a clap. The quick glance he gives to your potential client sends the man scrambling away. You sigh, watching your rent time leave with him. 

“Oh, sounds like he doesn’t like older women…” Raymond Leon observes casually over your shoulder, his palm resting on the wall behind your head, as if he knows you well enough to do so. You don’t bother turning around to address him when you respond, your arms still wrapped around her chest as they had been to display your cleavage to the clientele. 

“Or…he saw your face. What did I tell you, Ray? If you’re going to start whoring yourself out, you need to do something for your features, they’re too…”

“Intimidating?” Ray offers with a smirk, enjoying the derogatory banter. You turn and move your hands to your waist, pretending to examine the annoying Timekeeper. 

“Pretentious.” You correct cooly, copying his unemotional expression, a knack you’d picked up after his frequent visits decades before. Ray clenches his jaw and raises an eyebrow lazily. 

“I haven’t seen you around here lately,” you add, changing the subject. Ray nods and shrugs again. 

“Are you here for business or pleasure?” You ask, your eyes dropping lazily to his clothes, still a sucker for leather and zippers, you notice. 60 years old and he still loves his leather… you nearly smile. 

Ray smirks, chewing a piece of gum on the left-side of his mouth. His blue eyes fall to your breasts, half-hidden by your low V-neck dress. 

“I can multitask,” Ray talks around the gum in his mouth and draws a finger down your waist to prod gently at your wrist. 

“Look at you…” his tone hinders on distaste as he trails his eyes over your short dress. “This is something you would have worn in your teenage years, not in your 50s.” 

 “A woman has to work right? I’m not getting any younger,” you shrug playfully, and smile when Ray rolls his eyes at your joke, his hand sliding over your hand to grab your wrist. 

“You disgust me…” he mutters half-heartedly, stepping closer so he can look down your dress. You cock your head to the side, studying the prominent scar below his right eye. 

“So are you here to arrest me? Is what I’m doing illegal?” You ask with a skeptical tilt of your head. Ray scoffs and looks up, weighing his words before responding. 

“No, it’s not illegal.” 

“Mmm,” you raise your hand, Ray’s fingers still wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet. He looks at you, making no move to release his grip or even to loosen it. You slowly grasp the thin metal zipper on his shirt, tugging it teasingly. You can feel Ray’s heartbeat quicken through the pulse point on his wrist. You wait for him to speak first, your eyes giving him an invitation by fluttering your thick black lashes. Not yet taking the bait, Ray looks down at the time displayed in vibrant green light on your arm. He takes your forearm with his freehand and rests his shoulder against the wall instead. Taking your arm, he raises the clock to see it better and clucks his tongue in a pitiful gesture. 

You look away and roll your eyes, scoffing at the turn in his behavior. Ray will always be Ray. You try to snatch your arm from his grasp but Ray clucks his tongue again, this time in disapproval. 

“This is no good, no good at all, Miss Y/L/N,” Ray releases his fingers from your wrist and instead brushes them across the light colored hair on your arm, barely visible over the clock’s long face. You tilt your head away from him and focus your eyes on the building around the block where people walk by noisily. 

“Are you here just to shame me?” Your voice sounds tired and distant. Ray smirks, his eyes jumping to your face, taking pleasure in the way your head is cocked away from his to avoid looking at him.

“Only 1 year left… You’re not a very good whore anymore, are you?” Ray looks down at you, his nose angled into the air. You roll your head back to center and cock your eyebrow. 

“Is this the part where I tell you that I’m a ‘good whore’?” You clarify disingenuously and Ray barks out a laugh, your attitude turning him on. 

“Are you?” He asks after a moment, expectantly, “Are you a good whore?”

“I don’t know, you thought I was that one time. Or really, multiple times, if I remember correctly.”  You answer, your tone cold. You could never tell if you liked Ray or not, right now, you didn’t. You yank your hand away and rub your sore arm with your hand as if you were nursing a wound.

Ray nods, his mouth straight. Adam's apple bobs as he tries to restrain himself. His eyes return again and again to your chest, your breasts pushed together by the fabric of your dress. Exhaling suddenly, Ray grabs either side of your waist and holds you close. He licks his lips quickly, maintaining his nonchalant nature, and pressed them close to your ear. 

“How about for the sake of the old days I’ll give you an hour for fifteen minutes?”  

Ray’s voice is warm against your ear, sending tingles down the tendons in your neck. You bite your lip, hiding a smile. 

“Two hours and you have a deal,” You barter back, Ray’s mouth still against your ear. Ray draws back, his eyebrows drawn together in a skeptical expression. 

“Cost of services just went up,” you shrug and press your hands to his chest beneath the edges of his long leather coat. 

“Cost of services my ass.” Ray scoffs and moves his hands up to your breasts, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, covered by your dress. 

“Careful, Ray. You break it, you buy it…” you push him back gently, merely a few inches. He doesn’t even seem to notice, his eyes are still tied to your face. 

“I won’t break you, I just want you to bend.” Ray moves one of his hands up to the side of your neck, turning your face with his thumb so you’re forced to look at him. He leans in once again, his turquoise-blue eyes getting closer. His chest is nearly pressed against yours when he tilts his head, looking you up and down. “Do you know how to bend?” 

Your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him, his face deadly serious. 

“Yes, sir.” You swallow tightly, your face flushing. Your other clients never turned you on this much. Ray nods and takes your wrist firmly, paying you two hours without breaking his gaze. When your clock reflects the hours he’s given you, you slide your hand down into his and pull him further into the alley. Ray follows you, glancing briefly over his shoulder. 

“No, we’re going to a motel.” Ray tells you firmly and takes the lead, pulling you behind him with a strong grip. You follow happily, craving a bed anyway. 

“There’s one around the corner.” Your voice is soft and feminine, grateful to be taken care of for once. Ray nods as he walks, his coat swishing about his legs with a leathery squeak. His styled hair resembles feathery waves down the back of his head and you resist the urge to run your fingers through it. When you turn the corner, the cheap motel’s lights wink like an old woman with dragging eyelids. Ray leaves you on the sidewalk outside the motel’s office and scans his wrist on the reader, paying the notoriously low-rate of one hour for a room. His jaw is still clenched when he comes back out, his eyes scanning the line of pale pink rooms above you as he takes your hand once again. 

Ray’s grip is strong as he takes the steps quickly and unlocks one of the doors, strips of paint peel from the walls on either side. His nose is turned up in disgust as he throws open the door. 

“It’ll do,” he shrugs and jerks his head towards the room, waiting for your approval. You look at the plastic bed with its greasy pink bedspread and shrug. 

“It’ll do,” you repeat his words and nod once, your mouth turning up into a closed smile. “Are you going to invite me inside?” You gesture through the doorway and Ray scoffs, rolling his eyes in jest. He looks down at you, standing beside him in the doorway and looks back into the empty parking lot. 

“Looking for the wife?” You follow his gaze out onto the street and Ray smiles, shaking his head. 

“No…” his voice is low and breathy, like it takes him effort to relax. He raises his left hand, showing a hand without a wedding ring. 

“Ah, so the famous Timekeeper Raymond Leon still hasn’t found a woman good enough to be his wife,” you nod in faux-appreciation and lean against the door jam.

“And you, did you ever marry?” Ray raised a skeptical eyebrow, his eyes looking you up and down almost judgmentally.

“You know I'd never do that.” 

“You like your work too much to quit?” Ray chuckles and leans over you, his arms wrapped around himself as his face inches closer to yours. You roll your eyes, silently cursing him for his cruelty. He knows you wouldn’t do this kind of work if you didn’t have to.

“And run the risk of never seeing you again, fat chance.” You tease him, your tongue resting on the roof of your mouth. Your hands slide up his chest once again and take hold of the lapels on his leather coat. Your thumbs run over the hem, dipping into the buttonholes. 

“Would you still fuck me,” he started, his tone even and cool, “even if I was married?” 

You look up into those cold blue eyes of his, a tint of meanness sparkling in your eyes. 

“I guess we’ll never know,” you shrug, your response icy and indifferent except for the tug of a smirk on your lips. 

“You’re a bitch,” Ray leans closer, his breath fanning across your lips. His nose nearly touches yours as he tilts his head slightly. He doesn’t kiss you, but he wants you to know that he could if he wanted to. You keep your hands on his coat and use your leverage to pull yourself up on the balls of your feet, even though you’re already in heels. Your lips are barely touching as you nod and whisper. 

“I’m whatever you want me to be.” 

As you say it, Ray’s instincts take over, pushing himself against you and kissing you hard. His hands have flown to your hips, supporting you as you hold yourself higher. He breaks the kiss briefly to spit out his gum on the concrete. With remarkable ease, Ray guides your hips inside the room and slams the door behind him, throwing the room into semi-darkness. The leather on his body is warm to the touch as your hands slide over his chest. Backing you up against the bed you fall back on the mattress, landing on your butt. Ray stands so closely that your chin grazes his stomach. His hand goes to your chin and he runs his hands across your mouth. 

“I’m going to need more than fifteen minutes,” Ray mutters and pulls down your bottom lip with his index finger. 

“It’ll cost you…” you respond cheekily, your hands running up the sides of his legs. 

“Oh, I know it will.” He nods and it startles you when he drops into a crouch at your feet, his body positioned between your legs and his head turned up to look at your face. You look at him curiously, your eyebrows nearly furrowed. 

“Don’t worry, Miss Y/L/N, I just want to get a good look at you,” Ray answers the questioning look you give him with a daring smile. Your muscles tense when you feel his hand slide up the inside of your thigh. In one motion, he spreads your legs, forcing your dress to roll up your thighs, exposing the fabric of your underwear. Ray smirks, his fingers etching circles into the cellulite on your upper thighs as he looks at your underwear.

“Pretty,” he teases you, his eyes flicking up to yours, but you’re too stunned to say anything smart back. He inhales deeply as his hands travel the rest of the way up your thighs and pull down your underwear to your knees. You move your thighs together again to allow him to do so and exhale softly as you feel the lacy fabric fall down your calves to the floor. Once gone, Ray turns his eyes to you and spreads your legs with his large hands draped over both of your knees. You watch him, your heart racing and your cunt beginning to throb. Ray’s hand slides up your bare thigh to your cunt. Without breaking eye contact, he slips his middle finger inside you, rising slowly to lean over you as you lie back slowly and support yourself on your elbows. Your breath comes out in pants as you feel a second digit join the first, thrusting in and out of your core. 

Ray rests one of his knees on the mattress beside your thigh, giving himself more leverage to finger-fuck you. 

“Eyes on me…” he snaps when your eyes start to close. Obediently, you open your eyes and bite your lip as his fingers start to move faster, his knuckles hitting your cunt each time. His gaze bores into your eyes as you raise your thigh to rest against his knee. Your dress rides all the way up to your waist but you leave it on. 

“You’re already so wet. Do you get like this for all of your clients or only for your best customers?” His tone is condescending and mean but you love it coming from him. You moan softly before answering. 

“Jealous?” You egg him on and grind your hips against his fingers. Ray smirks, leaning his face down to yours and shakes his head.

“I bet you haven’t had a good fuck since you saw me last.” He breathes heavily against your cheek as he fucks you even harder with his fingers, adding a third and you grit your teeth. “Poor guys don’t even know how to do it properly, do they?” His lips brush against your cheekbone and you arch your back, trying not to whimper from the mixture of pleasure and pain. 

“Such a pity, isn’t it?” Ray whispers and you can feel him pout against your ear. Your body jerks as you begin to build to a satisfying climax, his fingers never ceasing in their work. “Don’t worry, honey. If you’re a good whore for me, I’ll make you cum, ok?” His words are cruelly intoxicating and you curse yourself for allowing him to turn you on so easily again and again. Your eyes are screwed shut as you gasp against his cheek, your left hand grabs onto his shoulder as you feel yourself shaking. You nod and try to open your eyes again, containing your reaction. 

“I don’t want you to hold back… I want to hear every sound you make.” Ray can tell you’re trying not to seem weak and needy and smiles pleasurably. His fingers edge you closer, your breath quickening. 

“And no faking. We’ll keep going until we get it right, understand?” He pulls back to look into your eyes, he’s dead serious, so you nod emphatically, panting from the pleasure. You’re reaching the peak of your climax, a shaky whine spilling from your lips.

“Now do you remember what I asked you before? Do you know how to bend?” Ray asks, his voice breaking the climax suddenly as he removes his fingers, a pleased smile on his lips as he sees your disappointed expression. 

Taking a second to process his question, you nod and lick your lips quickly. “Yes,” your voice is a soft whisper as you wait for his instructions. Ray steps back and takes off his long leather coat, tossing it over the back of one of the chairs. When he looks back at you, your legs still spread before him, he looks up and down the length of your body. 

“Then take off your dress and bend over.” He jerks his head to the left, directing you to turn that way. You pull the dress over your hips and up your chest. Ray’s stares at your breasts, his lazy eyes studying them indifferently. He’s so good at that, looking totally disinterested, put out, and bored. Strangely, it turns you on. When your dress is over your head and discarded to the floor, you let your feet slide down the edge of the comforter. You turn over, your feet flexed in the pink carpet and your butt held out above the edge of the bed. Your hands rest on the bed, your elbows extended uncomfortably on the uneven surface. You flip your hair to the side and wait for Ray. 

With your back turned and your perfect ass pushed out before him, Ray grapples with the layers of clothes on his body. He strips off his shirts, his hands undoing the buttons and zipper with swift expertise. When his clothes are all off, he places his hand on the base of your spine. You almost flinch, not knowing where he was going to touch you. His hand drops around your waist, pulling your hips closer to him but still not touching. Ray’s other hand trails from the back of your left knee to your ass which he grabs harshly. You gasp softly when he grabs you, allowing yourself to make any noise you need to, as per his request. Ray makes a clicking noise with his tongue in approval and moves his hand to your breast, his thumb drawing circles around your nipple. 

As he leans over you to message your breast, his hips pressed against your butt, his erection physically noticeable against your skin. You let your mouth fall open in an expectant, half-strangled sigh. 

“Oh you desperately need a good fuck.” His voice ruffles your hair and you close your eyes in pleasure, wanting him even closer. 

“Ray…” your voice is barely a whisper as his name escapes your lips. He presses his face into your shoulder blade in response, his nose rubbing gently against your skin. His breath tickles the sensitive place on your back and you arch your hips back, bumping against him. 

“Umph,” Ray groans softly and moves his hand up even further to your throat. His grip is loose enough for you to breathe but you still wear his hand like a choker. “You’re so fucking desperate…” he reprimands you distastefully but you can hear his smirk pulling at his tone. He tugs at your throat, moving your head back to rest against his forehead. His teeth find your earlobe and nibble gently at the curve of your ear, you moan softly. You can feel your thighs getting wetter as desire drips from your cunt. 

“Ray…” you say again and tighten your grip on the comforter below you. Ray tightens his grip on your throat in response and moves his lips to your ear. 

“Are you desperate for me?” His question is a husky whisper in your ear. You almost don’t hear what he’s saying, it's so low. You nod and swallow beneath his grip. 

“Yes, yes…” you agree twice. Ray seems to like this response because the hand that was still on your hip takes his erection and plays with the head against your cunt. 

“You can’t ever get enough of me, can you?” He doesn’t wait for a response as he pushes inside you vigorously. You yell out, your voice fading into a moan as he fills you up. 

“What was that? I didn’t hear you?” Ray smirks and thrusts into you again. You moan louder, your body desperately adjusting to his shape and size. Your eyes are screwed shut as he begins a rhythmic motion, in and out. Your jaw falls open slightly and you catch yourself squealing as he pulls your hips against his and continues his harsh movements, knowing you can take it. You can hear him panting behind you, his eyes stuck on the base of your spin and your heart-shaped ass shivering with each of his thrusts. 

“I bet no one appreciates this, how excellent your body is.” Ray manages to say, his voice disrupted by pants. You shake your head no, agreeing with him. No of your other clients even talks to you and you honestly prefer it. But you know Ray, you know his body and the way he uses it. When he talks, it excites you, drives you to do better for him. Ray chuckles breathlessly and pulls out, breaking the tension of pleasure. 

“Flip over,” he tells you and waits patiently as you roll over onto your back, your knees bent and your heels pushed into the edge of the mattress. You take a moment to look at him, having not seen him naked in years, he still looked the exact same. You both do. You both look 25, no older, no younger. Ray’s chest is rising and falling quickly and you admire the way it shows off the muscles in his body. You tear your eyes away from his taut stomach and look into his eyes, now more of a chlorine blue. 

Quickly, Ray is on top of you, pushing you farther back on the bed where your head nearly hangs over the other side. He pulls one of your thighs around him and pushes himself back inside, watching your reaction with a determined gaze. You throw your head back against the bed and raise your other thigh, pressing both of your knees into his waist. Stopping his thrusts briefly but still inside you, he drops his mouth to your breasts and circles one of your nipples with his tongue, his eyes closed to savor the experience. You moan loudly, digging your nails into his shoulders, watching his tongue lap at your nipple. Words escape you as you try to formulate an appropriate reaction. You squeal in pleasure as he moves on to sucking gently on the bud, his teeth sometimes nipping the sensitive flesh. You can feel the sensation in your cunt, as if the two places were connected by a cable. Your moans and gasps are more frantic and you feel lightheaded. 

“Too…much,” you manage, your nails biting into his flesh. 

“Good,” Ray responds shortly after your breast leaves his mouth. He kisses the side of your neck and applies a hickey at the junction of your throat and shoulder muscle, his hips beginning to move again. His hand holds your thigh tightly, using it to steady himself as he speeds up. Your hands fumble around his neck, scratching your own forearms to spare his skin. 

“No, I want you to mark me. Show me how well I’m fucking you.” He unclamps your hold on your own skin and waits for you to settle your nails back into his shoulders. 

“I won’t ask you again,” he warns darky when you don’t scratch him immediately. You manage to smile back, your mouth falling into a pleasurable gasp as if to say: do something good and I will. Taking it as a dare, Ray rolls his eyes and grabs the edge of the mattress above your head and pulls himself harshly into you. This makes you nearly animalistic. You writhe beneath his body weight and scratch your nails down his back, your thighs shivering. The pain from your nails down his back only makes him thrust deeper, his cock colliding with the base of your uterus each time. 

Your whimpers become a routine of gasps. Ray lowers his nose to brush against yours, almost in a gesture of affection but you know better than to read into it. His brow is furrowed from the effort but you can feel him start to climax, heat building between your bodies. Sweat drips from his chest onto yours, pooling between your breasts. 

“You’re going to make me cum,” Ray growls as his grip tightens on the mattress, pulling himself up and into you faster. You cannot speak for the life of you so you nod emphatically and cry out as you feel the muscles in your pelvis begin to contract when you start to cum. You feel your nails cut into his skin, drawing pinpricks of blood but Ray doesn’t even notice as he groans, his muscles tensing. He feels you tighten around him in your climax and it squeezes him, releasing his cum and bringing about his orgasm. 

Ray pulls out with a loud gasp and drags a hand across your stomach as he lies beside you, his feet hanging off the edge. You both pant, trying to catch your breath. After a few minutes of euphoria, you both begin to breathe normally. 

“You should really be paying me,” Ray says and you nearly take him seriously. 

“You’d actually make a good whore,” you laugh breathlessly and rest your cheek against your bicep, looking over at him. Ray scoffs and crosses his arms beneath his head, sweat still sparking on his freckled chest. 

“Well I’ll keep that in mind if the whole Timekeeping career doesn’t work out.” He sounds gruff and rude but you know him better. That’s how he sounds, that’s how he is, and so you smile softly to yourself. 

"You never change," you tell him. Ray pauses for a moment and cocks his head to the side, nodding as he contemplates your observation. He's frowning as he nods, and he sighs slowly before responding.

"And neither have you."

[vervainandspritz]

JUST ANOTHER OF YOUR MISTAKES

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, violence, grieving, a lot of pain, eventual fluff, smut

A/N: thanks for reading guys

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE

~~

Y/N was never a light sleeper, but this particular time waking up felt way more difficult than usual. Her head was hurting from all the crying and the last thing she could remember was Tommy holding her against his chest and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own unique scent before she nodded off, unable to handle the recent events.

“Mrs. Shelby, you're awake” One of the maids spoke up with a gentle smile, putting a steaming tea on the nightstand by her side.

Sitting up, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

“I'm not a Shelby” She responded with more annoyance than she'd like.

“Oh” The older woman said with a hint of shame. “My apologies. Mr. Shelby asked to bring you tea and some pain relief tonic,”

Y/N nodded, thanking her quietly before she rose from the bed, looking around. The room looked familiar in a less than pleasurable way, just like the clothes she was wearing. Sighing deeply she walked out of the room, seeing the dark corridor of the places she once called home.

After getting refreshed and dressed, Y/N walked toward the grand staircase. She stopped cold, feeling goosebumps running through her spine in the worst possible way when she saw the monumental portrait of Thomas and her in the stairwell. One she used to see everyday. The eyes on the portrait looked as lively as ever, mocking the pain she held in her chest every time she saw it. There she was, the former lady of the house, laying claim to her domain even from the grave. The longer she stared at her, the more she felt Grace was taunting her. “You may have been his woman once, but I have his heart and his ring on my finger now.” The words rang in her ears, coming from the depths of her memory, loud as the day she heard them for the first time. Y/N couldn't seem to be able to tear her gaze away, silently battling the ghost that seemed to curse her relationship forever.

She stood there for a long moment, immersed in the painting so much that she didn't realise she was being watched.

Thomas stood in the doorway on the other side of the corridor, watching her silently losing the battle as shame gnawed on his insides. He should have thrown it away long ago, but it was the last thing on his mind as he desperately looked for Y/N everywhere. The dead woman on his wall wasn't a big concern.

“You're awake” He spoke up, unable to handle the silence anymore.

She turned around, almost startled, as he caught her staring at her. The first thing she noticed were the glasses on his nose, and she fought against the little smirk that tried to appear on her lips so badly.

“What am I doing here? Where are the boys?” She asked, straight to the point. Thomas shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, knowing she wouldn't be happy with the news.

“Boys are with Frances upstairs, playing.” He responded, looking her in the eyes. “You're not safe outside of Arrow house. You three need to stay here until the vendetta is over.”

“What if you had more men surrounding my flat instead?” Y/N bargained.

“It’s too dangerous and I need my men concentrated not spread out over cities” he replied, already prepared for the questions he knew she'd ask.

She wanted to argue so badly. Y/N wanted to be free from him and the reminders of the past that this house held. But she knew that receiving a black hand was a serious threat she didn’t have the capacity to handle by herself.

“The only reason I'm not leaving right now is because I need to keep them safe.” She said, stepping closer. “...and if anything happens to us, I want you to know that it's all your fault.”

Despite knowing and seeing the pure hatred in her eyes, Thomas could never fully brace himself for the impact of her words.

“Nothing will happen to any of you. I give you my word” He said, quieter this time.

“Your word means nothing to me, Thomas. Just… just stay away from us as much as possible.” Y/N added, wanting to walk away.

“You can't expect me to stay away. They.. are my kids. My sons.” He said suddenly, and the confidence and fierceness of his voice made her stop in her tracks. “I regret losing you every single day. Every day I grieved the loss of my bloody heart, and then I found out there's three I should have been grieving. But you're here, and so are they. So I won't let yo–them go.” He hissed out, almost frantically and the vulnerability in his eyes made her slightly tremble. It hurt even more, because she waited so long to hear.. anything. Any crumb of reassurance would be enough to keep her here, but he didn't say a fucking word.

Straightening her back, Y/N inhaled a deep breath, looking back at the bloody portrait who was witnessing the whole scene. Seconds later she looked at him again, and the fire in his eyes was more lively, outweighing the dead, judgemental stare.

“They won't call you their father. If you break this rule, you won't see us again.”

***

The next day Y/N woke up, bracing herself for another battle as she walked down the stairs and to her surprise, the portrait was… gone. Her heart thumped wildly at the realisation and she couldn't believe her eyes. Suddenly the tension in the house seemed to have lessened.

Walking to the kitchen, she noticed Thomas sitting by the table with a cup of coffee and a cigarette in his hand, as he read the newspaper. It felt weirdly domesticated and the thought alone made her smirk.

“Did the boys eat?” She asked, not sure what to expect.

“Frances fed them an hour ago. Tommy is napping in the living room, and Nick is picking daisies with Mary in the garden.” He responded in a calm tone, not tearing his gaze away from the newspaper.

Silence hung in the air as they each did their own thing

Finishing up her breakfast, Y/N cleared her throat again as she looked at the wall in front of her.

“The portrait is gone” She pointed out in an emotionless voice, not looking at him. A couple longer moments passed before she heard him exhale a cloud of smoke.

“What portrait? He responded, and Y/N’s lips stretched into a subtle smile before she grabbed her plate and walked away.

A couple days later Y/N still avoided him, occasionally getting to talk to John or Arthur, but both of them were distracted by the giant threat hanging over the family. Polly seemed to keep it together the best, coming over whenever she felt like it for some female company.

Y/N said her goodbyes to Polly, going to put the cups into the sink and cleaning the mess after Nick. She wasn't used to having maids doing everything for her, so it was more comfortable to just clean the mess herself. Nick himself was currently spending time with his uncles by the stables, and Tommy was… who knows where.

After cleaning, Y/N went looking for the other boy, asking Frances who just directed her to the little room where the toys were stored.

She expected everything, but not the view she saw arriving in the doorway. Little Tommy sat back on his legs, watching with wide eyes and furiously colouring the different shapes Thomas drew for him.

“Dat?” Tommy asked suspiciously, pointing towards the crooked flower on the paper and glancing at him with big eyes.

“This?” He asked with a grin, “that's a flower” he explained, to which the boy nodded, narrowing his eyes lightly.

“...and dat?!” He asked suddenly in a squeaky tone, seeing the car Thomas drew for him.

“That's a car. Almost” He chuckled, seeing the crooked shapes as he tried his very best.

Tommy nodded, grinning in the same way as his father before glancing at his mum.

“Hi!” He waved, before pointing to the flower again. “fwowa!” he said proudly, pushing his little chest forward.

Thomas just laughed quietly, putting the pencil down.

“Good job, little man” he said, before slowly rising from the floor with a groan.

“Oh God, I'm too old for this” He whispered with a chuckle, glancing at Y/N who wasn't able to suppress the smile on her face after she heard Tommy talk. “Don't smile like that, now it's your turn.” Thomas added, passing by her in the doorway, his shoulder brushing against hers.

***

The next couple weeks were… rougher. Changretta was relentless in his search, which turned into a couple of seriously dangerous situations where John got shot in the chest barely coming out alive. Polly didn't agree with a lot of Thomas' actions, despite his inability to back off right now. He stood his ground, no matter how difficult it was sometimes to keep Y/N inside Arrow house whenever worse moments would arrive. And they did, fairly frequently.

The pull he felt became stronger and stronger, no matter how many daggers she kept throwing. Spewing the words she held deep inside, reminding him of the monster he used to be… or maybe still was? He couldn't tell. The view in the reflection of his mirror was so blurry, that it didn't matter. As long as she saw him to be fit enough to be around boys.

The house was completely quiet as he made his way through the corridor, lacking the usual sounds of kids playing or Y/N walking from one room to the other. Walking past the library, he caught a glimpse of light coming from the room that made him stop in his tracks.

His hands trembled with anxiety. The fear settled in his ribs over three years ago and hasn't left him once, even though they were here.

Thomas was aware of how powerless he was once the vendetta was over. The thought of them leaving the house and never coming back was making his heart squeeze painfully, reminding him of the privilege he once had, but gave it up willingly. The fear was like a loop, tightening around his throat with each passing day as he grew comfortable coming home and seeing them here.

Walking into the library, Thomas was completely quiet, wanting nothing but to see her if it was all he could count on. He was completely unaware of the fact that she always felt his presence. Sometimes letting him stay, and other times making him leave so desperately that made him wonder whether it was possible to day from a broken heart.

Step after step he tried to control his shallow breathing as he finally saw her. Standing by the big shelf, he traced over the backs of books standing there for so long, it felt like they were always there.

“You wouldn't like that one” He spoke up quietly, noticing how she didn't even budge hearing his voice. It took a longer moment before she replied.

“How so?” Her voice was calm, light-hearted as she found herself lost in the countless stories filling up the wooden shelves. The nagging thoughts in his mind disappeared the second he heard her voice.

“Because you don't like uncertainty. It's filled with unanswered questions and has an open ending.” He thought for a moment before replying, well aware of the content of this book, because he read them all. In the moments of despair, trying to hold onto every scrap of feelings in the house so empty, it felt like nobody lived inside.

Sighing deeply, Y/N put the book back in its place, grabbing another one.

“Nobody likes uncertainty, Thomas. Holding onto the moment, unsure of what's to come.” She sighed, hearing his slow footsteps approaching. “A book is just a book. You can close it, and move onto another one anytime. If only life was just as easy.”

Silence in the room caused the whole scenery to become more intimate, unexpectedly even for him. Stopping mere inches behind her, he watched the back of her head for a moment, remembering the nightmares he had every night. Ones where he couldn't reach her, no matter how he tried.

His breath caught in his throat as he slowly raised his hand, moving it closer and closer towards her shoulder. Inches away, he noticed the goosebumps covering her skin. Without looking he reached out to the shelf, grasping onto the book he knew by heart, while his arm brushed against her own.

He stood close, too close, and Y/N knew it too well, yet she couldn't bring herself to make him leave or pull away. The way he trembled as his chest pressed lightly against her back made her stand still.

“You'd love this one” He whispered, not feeling brave enough to speak loudly. The uncertainty they talked about he knew better than anything else.

Her breathing became heavier, feeling him so close, the tingling on her skin she hadn't felt for so long almost made her flinch. Slowly, she turned around facing him.

This, Thomas didn't expect as she suddenly looked up, their eyes meeting in a gaze long forgotten, yet still alive and lively as when they looked for the first time.

“I don't read anymore” She confessed quietly, and his eyes couldn't help but watch her lips intently. The way they wrapped around the words she spoke.

The urge to grab and hold her closer was strong, almost too strong. Tommy tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at her face in the dim light.

“I can read it to you” He offered quietly, as it was the closest she allowed him to… just be near her.

So he waited, scared of ruining the moment as she moved closer. Their noses brushing against each other.

“I wanted you to speak, not read.” The sound of her voice was like the most beautiful music he ever got to listen to, even though the words were far from it. “...but now it's too late, and you're standing too close.” her breath touched his lips, taunting.

…and then she pulled away, leaving him standing there. Slowly making her way out of the library.

“You're cruel” He said, loud enough for Y/N to hear.

***

Y/N opened her eyes suddenly, sitting up as she took a deep breath, desperately trying to blink away the nightmare she had. The clock showed three AM in the morning, and her heart was pounding from the fear she felt. One she rarely felt anymore, feeling as Thomas was taking it over day by day, despite her unwillingness to share anything. Even the broken, ugly parts he ruined.

His cold eyes kept looking at her in the dream, so unfazed by the idea of her absence. The humiliation turned into physical tears rolling down her cheeks as the memories clouded her reasoning.

Getting up from her bed, she remembered the way he touched her. Avoiding her eyes, throwing his head back. Not bothering to bare himself, so eager to take but never give. Forcing her to pour from a completely empty cup.

Her bare feet were cold against the floor as she quickly made her way through the corridor, knowing where she'd find him. Swiftly opening the door to his office, Y/N didn't bother to say a word or wipe her tears away as she quickly walked up, not looking him in the eyes.

“Y/N?” He asked, taking his glasses off and setting them on his desk while she suddenly pulled him back, creating more space to straddle his lap. Tears kept streaming in a smaller amount, but never ending as she ripped his shirt open, baring his chest.

“What are you–” He tried to speak up, but she didn't let him, as she pressed her lips against his so aggressively his breath caught in his throat.

Pulling on his belt she unbuckled it skillfully, a motion she knew too well from all these years ago. The inner pain burned her chest as she kissed and bit him, while pushing his arms away.

“Shut up” She hissed, as the humiliation from the memories took over her mind. The shame of giving and never asking for more. Of being taken and left without any rest. Pulling his pants open she stroked him impatiently, doing just enough to get him going. It wasn't difficult, as he was the only man she ever slept with, knowing his habits and body more than she'd care to admit.

Her nails raked over his throat and chest, ripping a deep groan from his throat.

He didn't dare to ask, feeling and giving everything she wanted to take. Despite the burning, the physical attraction and need she felt was stronger, her arousal glistening and visible as she lined him up with her entrance, not caring enough to be slow or subtle as she sank down on him fully. A subtle moan pushed past her lips as she squeezed her eyes tightly, doing the same thing he used to.

His eyes were wide open, taking the beautiful sight of her on top of him, but the expression on her face made him hurt so badly, he thought he might not survive. He reached out, wanting her to look at him, but she refused, keeping her eyes squeezed tightly as she moved on top of him frantically chasing her release.

“Y/N” He begged quietly, as her hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing to cause pain.

“I hate you. I hate you so much” She whimpered, as his fingers dug into her thighs.

“Please” He whispered, and she let go of his throat, digging her nails into his shoulders.

Thomas wanted to reach out to wipe her tears away, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

So he leaned forward, his forehead pressing against her collarbone when he let out a shaky breath.

“I love you” He whispered weakly, holding her tightly as she haven't stopped moving even for a second, brimming on the edge.

“I hate you. I fucking hate you” She cried out, opening her eyes as she looked down at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were half lidded but he didn't give up, staring and repeating like mantra.

“I love you” kept spilling from his lips as she reached her peak, causing him to follow right after as they reached the release.

His head fell forward, tears escaping his tired eyes as she quickly got off of him, leaving him without a word.

***

Y/N was growing increasingly restless inside of the Arrow House. Her days had been filled with reading and finding activities to keep her sons occupied, which took less time than usual, as Thomas took every opportunity to spend time with them. There was one room she had only been in once prior on this visit. She shuddered at the memory of her desperate conflicted intimacy with Thomas. Y/N knew that room would hold a concentrated form of his presence and essence, even more so after that night. She wasn’t sure if she felt strong enough to enter his sanctum again, but while Thomas was away on business and her boys were having their afternoon nap, the curiosity overcame her hesitation as she entered his space.

It was incredibly… him with deep mahogany furnishings and sumptuous emerald accents. During that night, she had paid no attention to the surroundings in the office - only to him and her inner emotions. Slowly she went deeper into his study, turning on a lamp at his desk. She could picture him here with those round glasses on, absorbed in matters of business both legitimate and less so. To the side of his desk was a small curio cabinet filled with antiquities and presumably family mementos. It hardly garnered a second thought from her until she noticed a figurine on the top shelf next to an old photograph of Thomas and his siblings. It was the figurine.

Before the war, before everything changed, she and Thomas would wander around Birmingham together - young and full of optimism. Both their families were poor and doing their best to survive in the cruel world, but they were the dreamers of their respective clans. He and Y/N often visited a certain shop that sold trinkets and collectables. Y/N yearned to be able to spend money on frivolous little objects like these one day. There was a specific figurine that she longed to own: a porcelain ballerina with graceful fingers and a white and pink lace ruffled skirt. She thought ballerinas were the most fairy-like women that walked the Earth. Of course neither of them could afford such a beautifully crafted figurine, but Y/N swore that one day they would walk in that shop and purchase her ballerina without a second thought to the cost.

That never happened, yet here it was, that same figurine she had seen so many years before sitting in Thomas’ curio cabinet in his most sacred space of his home. She didn’t know what it meant, but she felt tears prick her eyes at the reminder of those beautiful days from their youth. If only they could be like that again. If only the war and the turmoil after it hadn’t soured the tender young love they had known.

“I see you found your way back to my study” Thomas’ deep voice called from the doorway. Y/N was startled. She had been so lost in her memories and feelings that she hadn’t noticed his presence. She shifted awkwardly.

“Yeah, it seems like it.” She responded, glancing towards the curio cabinet. He slowly came up closer, a small grin on his face.

“What did you find?” Thomas asked, tilting his head to the side. Of course he knew what she saw, but wanted to hear it.

“I can’t believe you remembered my ballerina” Y/N said, not meeting his gaze.

“I went back to the shop to get it, but old Mr. Jones said he’d sold it years before. It took some hunting, but I eventually found her. I was hoping to someday show it to you, but… seems like you found her instead.”

“Why?” she questioned him in a small voice.

“Because this is how I remember you. You always said the ballerina was like a fairy or goddess come to Earth, but to me… when I saw that ballerina figure, I saw you.” Y/N’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as she glanced back towards the cabinet and then back at the man in front of her. Letting out a deep sigh, she wiped her eyes.

“Why now? Why did it take you so long to… to do this? Anything. I waited so long and… and now it's too late, Thomas.” She said, looking at him with an expression that crushed him. Feeling his breath hitch painfully, he felt his throat tightening. He had grieved over losing her and now that Y/N was physically here, she had never felt more far away from him.

After looking into her eyes for a longer moment, Tommy grabbed her hand, slowly straightening it against his palm while the other one reached to his holster, pulling out his gun. Y/N’s eyes widened, but his gaze remained locked on hers, not faltering.

Finally, he didn't feel the fear. Holding the loaded gun, he slowly shoved it into her smaller hand, aiming it forward before he closed his eyes. Pushing his forehead against the muzzle tightly, keeping her wrist upright.

“Then kill me.” He said out loud, the words hanging in the air for a moment. “Because otherwise I will never let you go, no matter how hard you try.”

Thanks for reading lol bye

@iilovedonnatartt @gentlebeari @narlytude @garrison-girl-08 @chaimaarouaine11 @bruhidkjustwannaread @reiwanwan @immyowndefender @jbrownta @honeymoon8

@dannysankletattoo

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Members Only 1

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, cheating, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

“Tommy knows the owner,” Grace trills as she leads you upstairs, “he’s around here somewhere, I’m sure.” 

“Right,” you follow her up into the violet-tinted lighting of the private room, “Mr. Shelby must know a lot of people.” 

“Mm, yes, that is the upside of our marriage. There isn’t a single restaurant or shop in this city where they don’t know his name,” she boasts as you stop at the door and she struts across to the slender bar. She hums, a hint of disapproval in her tone, and she pops the cork of the bottle. “That and the drinks.” 

She catches the foam from the neck in her mouth, her lipstick staining the torn edge of the golden seal. She gulps and puts the bottle down, blotting her lips with her knuckles. She turns and strolls around the curved sofa and looks through the windows that peer into the flashing club. 

“Pour me a glass,” she demands, “it isn’t my brand but good enough.” 

You obey. Mrs. Shelby is very precise in what she wants. She never leaves you in need of further directive. Your previous employer often expected you to know what they wanted without saying so. That stint did not last very long. 

The private room is decorated in silver and gold banners, vases filled with matching confetti, and an ivory cake with a big ‘40’ mounted on top. The decor clashes with the rest of the club. This isn’t a refined venue, it’s a place where coeds come to wile away their weekends. 

You fill a stemmed glass with champagne and bring it to Grace as she toys with a pale blonde wave. She is a pretty woman. She has all the elegance her name would suggest. Still, there is a staunchness to her that keeps you diligent. 

“Hmm, I do wonder why my husband is so fond of this place,” she tuts, “though I might guess it.” 

You peer down at the writhing bodies dancing below. Skimp skirts, crop tops, flirty moves; it isn’t your sort of place and you didn’t think it was hers either. She turns and struts away, sitting on the sofa to nurse her champagne flute. You turn to face her, staying by the windowed wall. 

“I won’t complain. Charlotte will appreciate the effort. It might even bring back a few memories for her,” Grace continues on, twirling the glass between her fingers. “The rest of the ladies should be content enough with the champagne and—oh my, please, go to the kitchen and inquire after the appetizers. I was promised brie and crustinis.” 

She sighs as you move for the door and she slurps loudly. As you reach the door, you hear her mutter, “...ever trust him...” 

You leave her there, wallowing with her golden nectar. It is no secret that the Shelby’s are facing marital woes. Even beyond the scope of Mrs. Shelby’s personal assistant, it’s obvious. Their last dinner party erupted in an argument which had their social circle whispering even months later. She blamed the alcohol and he blamed her. 

You find your way to the kitchen, past the burly man serving drinks behind the upper tier bar. You’re permitted past upon the mention of your employer’s name. Within, a man lines trays with tidy hor d’ouevres. Despite his greasy apron, his work looks no different than the private chefs that often serve the Shelbys. 

You hate to ask but you have to. Your ‘when’ is met with a ‘soon’ which sounds more like ‘can’t you see?’ You thank the cook and quickly retreat.  

As you get back to the stairs, you see Mona, Lilian, and Charlotte. The latter looks confused at her surroundings. She has no idea why she’s there. The surprise has worked. You linger then follow up a few steps behind. 

You can hear the furor as you approach the door. Charlotte’s squealing and as you enter, unseen, she hugs Grace who looks more irked then endeared by the embrace. Your employer’s eyes lock onto you and he gestures to you. You serve the other ladies; Charlotte first as guest of honour. 

“This is quaint,” Mona preens. 

“It’s exactly Charlotte’s taste,” Grace snipes, “if only you’d known her twenty years ago--” 

“Grace, I am a married woman now. No need to bring up the past,” Charlotte girds. 

“Oh, tell me the first note of Britney won’t have you undone,” Grace challenges as she lets you refill her glass. 

The woman chirp and giggle. Your employer faces you, “well?” 

“The cook is finishing up. They’ll be here shortly,” you keep your voice low, an expert at not disturbing the others. 

“Mm, it better be worth it.” 

You don’t mention that it hasn’t cost her anything. It’s isn’t your place to say so, or to speak unless spoken to. Some may think your job oppressive but you don’t mind so much. It’s easy to be told what to do. You’ve never been very good at decisions. 

She sips and scrunches up her nose, “ugh, this isn’t dry enough. Go, find my brand. Ugh, he knows what I prefer and he just doesn’t care.” 

“Yes, miss,” you take her glass as she hands it over and you leave it on the bar. It’s miss, not ma’am. Ma’am makes her feel old. When her birthday comes around, it will be her fifth fourtieth soiree. 

You leave the room again and venture back down. You go to the bar and wave your hand at the tall, blond bartender. He nods to show he’s seen you as he continues to serve his current customer. You wait, bobbing impatiently. He forgets you as a flurry of babbling young girls approach from the other side. He takes their orders and you sigh. You put your hand up again. 

“Oi,” a voice sounds from behind you and a whistle cuts through the thrumming din. The bartender turns and his blue eyes flicker in the club lights. He nears, looking behind you, almost through you. 

“Mr. Shelby,” he greets. You tense and glance behind you. It’s him. Thomas Shelby. Your boss’ husband. In essence, he is your boss, he pays your bills. 

“She’s been waiting,” he points down at you. 

“Of course, sir, apologies,” the bartender looks down at you, “what can I do for you?” 

“Er, I'm looking for champagne. A specific brand--” 

“Taittinger,” Mr. Shelby calls over your head. 

You nod in agreement. That’s the one. He knows but he didn’t have it in the room. Is his wife correct in his disregard or was it merely an oversight? 

“Quickly,” Shelby demands and shoos the bartender with his fingers. “My wife is here?” 

You face him and confirm his assumption. 

“Mm, I forgot it was tonight,” he says, though you hardly hear him over the music. 

You don’t know what to say. There isn’t anything to say. You rarely, if ever, speak to Mr. Shelby. You’re usually just treated as part of the decor. 

“Keep an eye on her for me,” he reaches past you as the bartender returns and he takes the bottle of champagne, “better get this to her at once. Guard it with your life,” he intones as he stares you down, “she does prize her little indulgences.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you make sure he can hear you above the pulsing noise. 

He tilts his head and steps aside, “on you go.” 

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

AS FAST AS YOU CAN

KINKTOBER DAY 24 - OUTDOOR SEX WITH TOMMY SHELBY

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary.| Your husband likes to play games to keep your marriage exciting. When you oppose against his wants, he thinks a game of predator and prey can soothe your disputes.

Warnings.| Noncon, dubcon, predator and prey, outdoor sex, p in v, rough sex, breeding kink, postnatal depression, implied lactating kink, tommy's a dick lol.

Word count.| 2.7k

Notes.| This may have been my favourite to write, Tommy just screams predator and prey.

It was just another fun game for the happy couple. A way to keep the spark of adrenaline, excitement and desire for each other. To your husband, this was considered intimacy. The casual sex could get repetitive for him, don’t get Tommy wrong, he loved your body, worshiped it at every opportunity he got. But he wanted to feel alive with you, take every opportunity possible to explore new pleasures with you. To keep the sparkle of rigorousness in your marriage. 

Tommy Shelby was a sadist, your hand was forced into marriage and then you were sentenced with baring his children. You loved your two sons, Alastair and Henry, but feared them living cursed lives. You had heard so many malediction tales of the Shelby name. They were still babies, Alstair only turning one a month ago. Many nights you considered packing your bags and running away with your sons, but feared your husband’s wrath if you ever got caught. 

Only eight weeks postnatal, Tommy was pushing you for another, but you were far too resistant this time. The way your expression soured and lips wobbled as you began to express how you needed to wait, your body needed to properly heal from your first pregnancy. Your body was weak, you were ruined by the issues of bearing children. You needed a break after having one child after the other. To what he was quite aggressive over your resistance, he found himself rather content at the situation, an idea sprouting in his mind. 

On this cold, misty day at Arrow House, Tommy thought it was the perfect environment for another intimate activity between you both. It was hunting season, and what better than a game of predator and prey. But in reality, he wanted to torment you in ways you didn���t know were possible. Because no matter the terms and conditions of the game, it was always designed for him to win. 

“It’s a simple game darling, I desire another child, you do not” Tommy spoke confidently as you stood in front of the green field. 

You rubbed your shoulders in the cold gentle wind. It was foggy, the forest almost hidden in the distance. With a congested sniff of your nose, you looked up to your husband who was dressed appropriately for a hunting session, the rifle included. 

“If you can reach the main road through the woods before I catch you, I won’t impregnate you until you’re ready, I promise” Tommy explained, closing the distance between you with a wicked grin on his lips. 

“Then what’s the gun for!” you exclaimed, your body trembling as you watched his hands tighten around the weapon. 

“It’s just a prop my love! It’s hunting season! I’m just getting into the spirit, a predator eager to catch his prey” Tommy snickered, nose running up your neck as he breathed in your scent. 

“Please Tommy! I’m tired…” you begged pathetically, your body slouching as you held onto your husband in hopes of a change of heart. 

With his grin, you knew your words meant nothing. His free hand slipped around your waist, right down to squeeze your ass. You whined, tightening your grip on him as you tried to force your tears back in. 

“Want me to fill you with my seed now then?” Tommy whispered darkly into your ear. 

The thought of being pregnant again weighed you down.  No, you couldn’t be a slave to the torture of pregnancy. The agony and melancholy it had rained over your body was too much to bear again. The sleepless nights had to end. Tommy thought it was best for the maids to stay out of the process. He only wanted you both to be their providers. He did help out here and there, but he often would pass on the duties to you and hold you from behind as you tried to calm your sons. That’s when he was even home, Tommy was business obsessed. Sometimes you’d get hopeful that he was never going to be coming home. Prayed for the news that he got caught in the crossfires, but you always heard the engine of his car roar when you were almost convinced. 

“Okay, okay” you complied, defeated. 

“Good! If you win I’ll do whatever you want tonight, even if that’s sitting in the corner of the room like a naughty boy” Tommy smirked, patting your behind harshly. 

He explained how you’d have a five minute head start and how it was approximately a mile and a half run. Your hope began to shatter at those stats, you had hardly walked that distance straight since your first pregnancy. When was the last time you had even ran?

“A kiss for good luck” Tommy murmured before passionately kissing you. 

As he counted down the seconds, you whimpered heavily, eyes darting around as you felt like a deer caught in headlights. You bolted as fast as you could, quickly heaving, your heart pounding against your ribs as you didn’t notice how tight your throat was closing in. It was cruel, you weren’t dressed appropriately for this, wearing a maroon dress that restricted the movements of your legs and tight shoes that were easily rubbing against your skin. All for his own advantage, as if your physical capabilities weren't already enough. 

It’ll forever be unknown if Tommy stood true to his word, you were too afraid to look back. The adrenaline removed the timer in your head as you quickly disappeared in between the trees. Tommy smirked to himself as he held his rifle to his chest and ran after you. 

Swaying side to side, your body struggled to remain composed. Your core temperature made the forest feel like a furnace. When you fell against the tree, you pant out to attempt to catch your breath. You dared to look back, the bushes and trees remained still as before. The mist clouded the distance, you were still free from him. But his voice tormented you, calling out his name, somehow echoing through every area of the taunting woods.

You wouldn’t be able to outrun him, that much you knew. However, you could trick him, have him chase the finish line rather than yourself. For he never set a mark on the road. You slipped into the nearest ditch of dirt, curling your body up against the curving wall of earth. When you heard his heavy footsteps snap at the twigs and crush the leaves, you clamped your hand over your heaving mouth. 

Tommy called out your name and you could already visualize the sinister smile on his lips. “My love, where do you hide?” Tommy teased, already knowing that you were near. 

His footsteps neared, you were sure he was standing right above you as you squeezed your eyes shut, paralyzed by fear. A ramble in the distance of an animal caught his attention. Tommy flared his nostrils and quickly his footsteps faded. When the woods were filled with silence again, you crawled out of the ditch and continued your journey. 

You were cautious, your eyes darting around from every direction as you often found yourself hunching close to the ground. Tears watered the soil as you struggled to keep your emotions under control. The blisters on your feet had already formed. Your body ached almost as badly as it did during childbirth, you needed to rest. Minutes quickly passed, you thought you were lost. But then, you could see the main road behind the trees. Just over fifty meters away from you. 

“My love! There you are!” Tommy’s voice boomed as he appeared out of thin air in the distance. There was this similar crazed look on his face, which never ended up in your favor as he held onto the rifle firmly. 

You shrieked and bolted for your life, not necessarily desiring the finish line, but only to get as far away as him as possible. Tommy guffawed your name as his brisk steps grew onto your tail. Fearfully, you cried out, your sounds of distress echoed throughout the forest.  

When Tommy lunged for your loose hair, he miscalculated the distance and missed, tripping over a root and crashing onto the dirt ground in the process. You dared to look back, but shamelessly found yourself grinning at his unfortunate tumble. He snarled out the dirt from his mouth, his head shot up as he saw you closing in on the finish line.

You smiled, you were going to win, finally. 

The gunshot made you fall to the ground a mere few meters away from the road. Your hands patted over your body, your blood pumping a mixture of adrenaline and shock. There were no wounds on your body and you dared to look back. 

Striding towards you like a beast, Tommy had a frightening look locked on underneath the specs of dirt. His knuckles were turning white around his rifle as he looked like he was ready to eat you alive. Thoughtlessly, you were scooting back over the dirt ground, heading straight towards the road. 

“Get over here, right now!” Tommy roared, a vein popping out of his forehead. 

“Tommy?” You whimpered, head darting back and forward from the road.

The road was only a meter away from you. Swiftly, Tommy aimed his rifle at you and you froze still. You gulped down the lump in your throat, lip wobbling.  

“Next shot goes through your leg my love” he warned with a grin. 

You whimpered his name once more as he towered over you. The rifle lowered to his side as he tilted his head towards you. As the rifle fell to the ground, Tommy pounced on top of you, pushing you flat onto your back. His nose inhaled your scent as he pressed his lips to your neck, you were frozen underneath him. 

“Mhmmm, I win” Tommy chuckled, his kisses running up to your face. 

Whining out, you shook your head viciously as you squirmed underneath him. “No! No! I was going to win!” You argued, your voice full of hurt.

“Should have walked the distance then!” Tommy cackled, his hands roughly roaming over your dress. 

“You threatened to shoot me! You said it was a prop!” You hissed. 

“I would never do such a thing! Not my fault you fell for it” he said smugly with a roll of the shoulders, his brute hands massaging your swollen breasts. 

A wave of pure anger crashed over you. Before you could even process it, you punched him in the jaw. His hand snapped to the side and he remained still. The redness on his pale skin quickly grew. Within a blink of the eye, Tommy maneuvered you onto your stomach, your acts of resistance always felt like a mouse battling a cat. You yelped out in pain as he twisted your arms behind your back. 

“Please Tommy! I don’t know what I was thinking!” You shrieked, blabbering at the feeling of his heavy bulge poking against your ass. 

“That’s exactly right… You shouldn’t be thinking at all…” Tommy whispered into your ear as he slowly freed his throbbing cock. 

“No-no, please” you squeaked out, close to hyperventilation.  

But it was pointless, Tommy had won yet again and was too eager not to gloat his win. For if a wolf were to catch a deer, would he take it home before devouring it? Your dress was scrunched up and you gasped as the cold air teased your skin. With a swift movement, he shoved his thick member into your entrance. You grumbled out in pain, Tommy shoved your face into the dirt as he pounded himself inside of you. 

“Your mind will go perfectly blank again when you’ve been bred, I miss the way you’d stare blankly out the window” Tommy sighed in satisfaction as your body went limp below him. 

“Tommy please! Another month! Just give me another month!” You cried out, your body trembled on the ground. 

“Darling, it’s easier if we just get it out of the way now…” Tommy moaned quietly as his arm slipped down to your clit.

The way your walls would squeeze his length made you feel sick in times like these. It fueled his beliefs that you enjoyed his sick and twisted games of his. He held up your hips, balls slapped against your sensitive flesh, animalistic grunts left his lips. You mewled out his name. 

“Quiet my little wife, quiet” Tommy ordered, his eyes rolling back. “You stress yourself out too much, let me do everything, let me take care of you” he explained as he leant down to kiss your heated cheek. 

Tommy coached you to keep on squeezing him, just how he liked it as he rutted into you. In return, he hit your sweet spot over and over again. Quickly, your eyes rolled back as you whimpered out in pleasure, back arched and cunt squeezing as tightly as possible. Tommy groaned out, his movement’s suddenly stilling as he shot his seed deep inside of you. Tommy gleefully smiled out, it had felt like an eternity since he came inside of you. 

As you panted out, ears blocked and sight still blurry, you realized Tommy was talking to you. 

“A little baby girl, doesn’t that sound nice?” Tommy asked softly, his cock still buried deep inside of you. 

“A girl” you smiled weakly, mind still dazed from your post orgasm state. 

“Yeah… A girl, she’d be as beautiful as you, eh?” he complimented, his hand rubbed over your lower back as he slipped his size out of your dripping hole. 

“No” you mumbled. 

“No?” 

“I’m not beau-” 

Your body is flipped back over. Tommy glared down at you as he read your pained expression behind the dirt. Quietly, he tutted at you as he shook his head. 

“Fuck, I’m really going to have to fuck these stupid thoughts out of your head, ain’t I?” Tommy cooed as he found his cock twitching in the cold air. 

“Look at me Tommy” you whimpered, eyes swelling up as you looked down at your body. Disgust washed over you, you felt sticky, as if you were covered in grease. 

“I am my love, you’re emotional over nothing, just calm down and feel me okay? My poor wife, you have that sadness don’t you?” Tommy soothed you in a condescending yet comforting tone. You murmured out his name, your arms snaking around his back to pull him closer to you. Gradually, Tommy slipped himself back into your sore walls, you mumbled out but showed no resistance. “Shush… I’ll fix you, just squeeze my cock for now, that’s all you have to think about” Tommy smiled softly, his pace picking up. 

“Tommy, I-I” you moaned, eyes fluttered and lips spread open. 

“Show me how badly you want to be bred”  Tommy grunted out, his nostrils flared and hips pistoning in and out of you. Naturally, your walls firmly tightened around his member. Tommy’s body craved yours so badly, it was torture having to wait for you to heal. Many times he wanted to devour you completely. Take your mouth or backside to relive his desire, but he wasn’t cruel like you claimed him to be. “Oh fuck, fuck… Missed your warmth so fucking bad…” Tommy almost whined out as he felt his balls begin to tighten. “Yeah, that’s it…” Tommy moaned, his eyes rolled back as he came inside of you for a second time. 

He collapsed on top of you, his face buried into the crook of your name as he murmured your name. Tommy held you tightly as you silently wept, the realization crashing down on you intensely. Eventually, Tommy slid out his softening dick and slipped himself back into his pants. 

“Tommy it’s cold” you sniffled as he stood up and brushed off his face and clothing. 

Tommy sighed as he helped you up, he brushed the dirt off of yourself and patted your cheek softly. As you rubbed your arms, your shoulders curled in, Tommy slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. 

“There you go my little wife” Tommy smiled and gave you a peck on the lips as he tugged the coat straight. “Come on, the boys must be hungry, I sure am” Tommy grinned, his hands tracing over the outline of your breasts as he licked his lips.