#prostitute!reader

[bucknastysbabe]

OKOK SO YOU WOULD WRITE FOR VISERYS THE SLUT I HAVE FOUND MY PEOPLE

THIS MAN SCREAMS MOMMY ISSUES I WANT TO PEG HIM SO MUCH THAT HE CRIES OUT OF PLEASURE BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT TO PRAISE HIM AND BABY HIM💀😭

So I def went the praise and baby route. With tears OF COURSE. I kinda liked his pathetic ass besides fucking w/ my KHALEESI. I loved writing this— thanks for the ask lovely anon. I PRESENT TO YOU 🥁🥁🥁 ANOTHER TARGARYEN WITH SEVERE MOMMY ISSUES💥

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,236

Tags: MOMMY KINK, tit sucking, pussy jobs and the like, Viserys rude ass inner dialogue, prostitution, man tears, hyperspemia, no kissing sorry he’s a weirdo

Unwind

Viserys sprawled on the plush bed, the ever present grim look on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smile. Maybe before the Golden Company laughed in his face after the Prince, King truly, feasted them in hopes of gaining allegiance to take back his birthright.

He and Daenerys were staying in Lys, under a powerful Magister. They’d throw them out before long, so Viserys would take his pleasures while possible. Maybe, just maybe, someone would see him as the King he was. The rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, not that usurper. Viserys promised the Magister the Stepstones in exchange for the crown.

He was waiting on one of the famed Lyseni whores to come to his lush quarters. Requested pale silver-gold hair and violet eyes. Certainly not a ringer for Dany. It ached his soul to think about the idiotic sister of his. But he loved her. Stupid fragile thing.

He palmed his cock, ready for some sort of release, lilac eyes flickering to the door. A soft rap echoed on the gold painted door. Viserys straightened up, sweeping loose curls behind his ear. The whore slunk in with a bow, thick curls of the beaten silver-gold cascading down. She had a sultry voice, simpering, “Your grace.”

He commanded, “Come here girl.”

“Yes, your grace,” she purred.

The pillow girl wore a gauzy purple dress, plush hips and full tits bare underneath. She swayed to the end of the bed, lifting a leg to crawl up before Viserys growled, “I didn’t say you could join me. Kneel on the floor.” Her face was placid but he could see the infuriating little smirk on glossed bee-stung lips.

“Yes my lord.”

Viserys crept to the end of the bed, spreading his long legs on each side of the kneeling whore. Her wide violet eyes peered up at him, long dark lashes framing the orbs. That little tilt of the other blonde’s lips was causing anger to flare in his chest. Viserys snapped, “What’s so entertaining little slut?”

She laughed, a melodic tinkle, eyes flashing in mirth. The Lysene crooned, “The Magister Myrmorro wanted me to relax you. Says you’re too uptight.” Before Viserys could boil over in anger she urged, “Let me take care of you. A good report back to Myrmorro could help your cause, my lord.”

The beggar prince’s jaw ticked, fighting the dragon back to sleep in his chest. He needed to make an impression. If the pretty whore in front of him could help Viserys would have to regretfully obey. He sold his fucking mother’s crown after all. What else was there besides his body, little Dany, and desperate promises.

Viserys grabbed a thick lock of tight pale curls, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. He rasped, “What do you suggest then?” Her lips widened into a grin, hands sliding up Viserys skinny thighs. He raised a brow, tugging to get a quicker answer. She hummed, “Let me take over and you’ll see stars, my king.”

King. He liked that. His cock liked that too.

“Fine then. Work your whore magic.”

She stood up, untying a pouch to her side that Viserys hadn’t seen before. He must have been too invested in her heavy tits. She husked out, a devious look in her eyes, “Would you like me to undress you, my King?” Viserys snapped, “Of course. What did you expect?”

She placed the pouch on a chest and climbed onto the bed, sliding off her gauzy excuse for a dress. Viserys eyes were drawn to her peaked pink nipples, the heavy droop of flesh, marks from growing too fast on the side. His cock throbbed painfully.

She demurred, “Want a taste? Let me get you naked first.”

Viserys somehow was pushed back, elbows cushioning his fall as the woman untied and pulled at his silks and wool, emblazoned with the red dragon of his family. All he could do was stare at her swaying breasts, mouth growing wet. The almost-king couldn’t explain his desire but wanted it so, so, so, bad.

“Lift,” she ordered.

Viserys lifted his hips for her to shuck down his woolen breeches. The boots had already been discarded earlier and his tunic must have been removed in the Valyrian’s trance on the whore’s chest. His cock lay on his pale belly, already flushed a deep red and dribbling pearls of white.

Her blonde curls shifted and shined while she climbed atop his hips. The wetness of her cunt shifted against Viserys own desire, making him whimper. He tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat but the damage was done, she chuckled at him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted snarled.

“I think you’re endearing,” she caressed his thin hip, “Would you like to suck my tits now, pretty baby?”

Pretty baby.

“Please,” he whispered.

She wrapped lean arms around his shoulders and shoved creamy tits forward. Viserys made a broken noise— overwhelmed on where to even begin. The Lysene thumbed one of his sharp cheekbones cooing, “How about the left? Poor little dragon. I’ll take care of you.”

He wanted that so bad. Viserys had to always fend for him and Dany. Couldn’t relax. If he could just get the throne and servants to indulge his every whim. This was close enough. The Targaryen sealed his lips around a pink nipple and suckled eagerly, hands coming up to paw at the abundant flesh on her chest.

She cooed and writhed against his weeping cock. “That’s so good, get your fill sweet boy.” Viserys whined, sucked, and licked eagerly. He whimpered at the soft feeling of her heavy teats.

His balls suddenly felt very full and achy, sensitive to the point that it hurt.

“M-mummy,” he whimpered, totally lost to the desire clouding his mind.

“Yes baby boy, my sweet boy, suck all you want,” she replied while carding manicured hands through his loose flaxen waves. The angel rubbed her slick pussy against his need, coating it in sweet warmth. Viserys gasped as he pulled back, both hands on her bountiful chest.

He dove onto the right nipple, neglected and ready for the taking. He thumbed at the other one, delightfully slick and puffy from his ministrations. The Lysene moaned softly, encouraging him even more. Claiming his rightful rule to the throne, how strong and smart her king was.

Viserys shuddered and cried around a peaked bud, “O-oh gods, mummy, please! Don’t stop.”

He mewled and sniveled, shoving his face between her pillowy teats. All Viserys could do was rut and chant, “Mummy, mummy, mummy, mmh!” She rolled her hips along his length in smooth glides. Viserys wailed in ecstasy, his overfull balls drawing up painfully.

She moaned, “That’s it, c’mon my baby, cum all over mommy. Make mommy proud.”

“I-I-I will! Oh fuck! Ah- mmh- cumming so hard for you mummy,” he cried. Viserys spasmed and shook with hefty sobs as he came and came and came. It almost hurt how much he painted her cunt and his lap. The beggar king clung to mu-the whore and sucked in air. Roughly, as he couldn’t be bothered to remove himself from her tits.

The woman murmured, “So good baby boy, bet you feel so good. You were full, my my. Just relax and let mommy hold you now.” With another pitiful whine, Viserys did so, just forgetting the stress of the cruel world for once.

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.”

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag List: @lucien-calore, @zebralover

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-Sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.”

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @skydisneylover

[pomstr4wberr]

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 JOB DISASTER? (Or not) ꒱♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍭 ꒰ GN reader - they/them ꒱♡ ⌎

୧ ‧₊˚ 🥛 ꒰ Fluff/kinda suggestive ꒱♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ

NOTE : The reader is a prostitute . Reader is of age, of course. Reader just hangs out around malleus . Reader is not Yuu . This can be seen as platonic or romantic [I think] (they just hang out and talk about stuff). The reader is impiled to wear sorta lingerie clothing but still gn

YOU had a blank look on your face as you stared dumbfounded at the tall horn man standing in front of you. He stared at you as you couldn't believe that a customer had no idea and forgotten what your whole point of your job was.

Even virgins had some ideas about your whole job. You gritted your teeth, but you sighed as you were glad that you didn't have to overwork once again. he twitted his head in confusion as you pointed at you.

"What clothes are you wearing?" He says as he turns his head away, you sighed as you walk over and sit down on the bed. His room was dark and weird. You fixed your clothing.

"Do you even have an idea of what my job is?" You say as he looks at you and shakes your head. " No, I saw this weird thing online, and it said you weren't going to be alone..."

You cock an eyebrow up as you heard him say alone, did he seriously just pay you to not make him feel lonely? You smiled as you thought this was easy money making, you had to just stay and sit still looking pretty, which is something you can do every well!

"Sooo~ you just want me here to give you some company?" You say as he gives you a small smile and nods his head, "Yes, I indeed want you to, " you just nod your head as you think about what to say next and your next actions.

"Isn't this your job to give company?" He says as you go out of your thoughts, should you just say yes and let him believe or destroy his pure thoughts?

"Yes, it is my job" you say with an smile, you cock your head to the side. "Do your clothes matter to your job?" He says as he looks at your face, taking a quick glance at your clothing.

"My clothing is for close contact, you know, so I can bring warmer hugs!" You say as you give him a smile. he gives a ":0" face as he nods his head, "So your clothing style is to five better hugs to people?".

You smile as you lean back more, and you have a smirk on your face, "Yep, you're so right!" You liked this feeling, you looked at him.

"Do you want me to do anything?" To be honest, you didn't care if it sounded suggestive. He didn't seem to catch on what you meant by doing anything.

"Hmm... do you gargoyles?" he says while putting his hand on his chin. Did he mention those stone weird looking things? You noticed that he seemed interested in talking about gargoyles.

"Yeah, I do." That was a lie. You found those things quite boring, but you couldn't say no to him he just looked so cute. You didn't care if it was a romantic or platonic when you said he looked cute.

"Well, if you are talking about it, you must have gargoyles in this area" you say as he nods his head and brings he hand towards you.

"If you don't mind, let's go." He says with a smile, you smile back and grab his hand as he wants you up, "do you have like different clothing?" You say as he looks around and nods his head.

Taking this offer as a good idea, it seems like you could make a friend.

[reb0rned]

No Man's Land.

Summary: Lizzie's friend happens to be too busy for the day, so she recommends that you take on the job of helping the youngest of the Shelby brothers out.

Warnings: mentions of prostitution and sex, allusions at abuse, society rooted in misoginy.

Pairings: Finn Shelby x f!Reader (platonic for now!)

Characters: Finn Shelby, Prostitute! f!Reader.

Word Count: 2306.

This is set in Season 4! <3 Hope you enjoy your reading!!

You looked at yourself in the framed mirror that hung on one of the corners of the crowded room. The image that greeted you did not at all reflect what you felt inside. Make up helped hide your sunken eyes, and gave you and the rest of the world the comfortable illusion that everything was just fine; that you didn’t loathe every single second of your day with a burning passion. 

Sleep was hard, but then again, it was that way for most women, at least in your line of work. 

Your lips looked nearly naked, swollen and numb, but it was ok. The next one wouldn’t notice, you doubted he would even care at all if he did. You covered your skin in a disguise anyway; cheeks flushed, alive, and lips fresh, eyes hungry for more, fingers willing to please. 

To please a man, you thought, a Shelby man. 

That should mean something, should make you feel nervous, scared even, but you were surprisingly calm as you brushed your hair into place. 

No matter the name before it, a man was a man, and that you knew how to handle. Even though dangerous, like any wild animal, once you learnt their language, your chances at survival increased greatly, to the point where sometimes you may even feel safe around them. 

That, you had learnt the hard way, was as much an illusion as the smile that automatically grew on your face when you heard the doorbell ring outside, signaling for you to get ready. As was the curve on your back, or the confident tilt of your head as a man made his way into the room, deciding your fate for the rest of the day.

“Mr. Shelby, is it?” the young man nodded his head, but his face was tense and hard, he closed the door behind him almost hesitantly. He waited a few seconds before he met your eyes, then hastily proceeded to avoid your gaze. A flash of wild blue was what you had expected when you were told that a Shelby would be visiting today, or even a pair of dark stones, menacing, hungry for what laid beneath your clothes.

That wasn't what you found in his face for that brief moment though, his eyes were not as dark as caves nor as cold as ice; they felt bashful, innocent, like a fawn wandering a little too far away from home for comfort.

That, you thought at that moment, must've been one of the many illusions that surrounded you these days. After all, this was one of the Shelby brothers standing in front of you, and the blood on their hands was something nearly impossible to overlook, as was their infamous reputation.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he stood at the entrance for a bit too long, which meant that you had to stand up to go and greet him first. You groaned internally as your body ached in protest, your legs sore, your skin burning in tender places, but you didn't let him see that. You offered a hand, and he took it; sweaty, and warm, but that didn't matter. You gently pulled him towards the center of the room, to the foot of the bed, where you sat and waited for him to follow suit.

He was a good looking young man indeed, but this was not enough to fool you. You had witnessed beautiful forest fires; but that never stopped them from burning everything down to ashes. 

Albeit you would've thought a Shelby man to be quite rowdier than this one was.

Once again, it was you who broke the silence.

“I know that the plan was to meet with Lizzie’s friend and not me, so I apologize if I can't reach your expectations. I promise I will try, Mr. Shelby,” as you spoke, you performed what you had memorized expertly, exposing your bare breasts to the dusty air of the room. He didn't need to talk, you knew what was expected of you, and you were sure he’d make you know otherwise, so you paid no mind to his silence.

“It’s fine.” his eyes darted towards your hands as you placed them on his leg, and he shifted in place. 

“There's no need to be nervous, sir, I will do anything you ask for,” squeezing one of your hands, you took his with the other and gently led it towards your chest, trying to show him the way, but he wriggled it out of your grasp before any contact was made, scooting away from you uncomfortably. It didn’t leave your hands any colder than before, but his body language did cause a sting at the pit of your stomach, even if for a second. You pursed your lips then, slightly shocked as you tried to decipher his behavior.

“You really don’t need to,” his face was pointing opposite from you, and you wondered what could be of more interest to him than what you had to offer. 

“I’m confused.” trying to gain his attention back, you spoke, searching for his gaze with a lean of your body. He barely glanced at your face.

“This is not right, I don’t want to… to force anything, ‘right?” you tried to make sense of his words, looking elsewhere. You were starting to feel frustrated. Was this some sort of game? Was he making fun of you? He didn’t look like he was having fun, precisely. Why was he here, then? 

“Do you find me unpleasant, Mr. Shelby?” there wasn’t as much honey tangled in your voice anymore as there was a moment ago, words coming out sharper than you intended them to. Time wasn’t something you enjoyed spending, let alone waste it. If he wished to change whores, he should be a man about it and just say it.

“Please don't call me that.” 

“Isn't that your name, though, sir?” your patience was wearing thin, but your voice remained calm.

“My name is Finn, and, I don't,” he stopped himself, seeming to think his words over before he spoke. “it's not that I find you unpleasant, believe me, I’m just… I don’t want this, not this way…”

“Right…” you busied your hands with buttoning up your blouse, concentrating on each button individually. This gave you time to think as the man paced around the room aimlessly. “but you paid for this service.” you carefully pointed out.

“Yes, I know. Look, my family just expects me to, and I thought that I could do it, but… I don't like the way I’m feeling right now.” you couldn’t stop the small frown that made its way to your face. Of course, he was one of those.

“Ashamed?” you wanted to get this over with.

“No, not ashamed!” he looked at you then, and he must’ve seen something lingering in your gaze, because his eyes opened slightly more than usual, and he rushed to say his next words. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my family, I promise.” 

You sighed. 

‘’Why does your family expect you to?’’

‘’I thought it might be a good idea to tell them that I was, well… a virgin.’’ his last words were soft, like a shameful confession, but you heard them clearly. 

‘’Oh,’’ your gaze dropped to the floor for a second. A virgin. That concept was so far away from you, it felt strange to hear it again, to reflect on its meaning like you did once, when you were a child. You do remember the fear, though. Knowing that someday it would be taken from you, painfully, ripped away like a wobbly tooth by someone that did not understand, nor care. 

Because they couldn’t understand, not one bit.

Yet, how could you explain the fear that you could see dancing in his soft green eyes? Suddenly you felt as if you were looking at yourself, a version of yourself lost long ago, that knew no delusions; not yet. The one you would do anything to keep safely wrapped around your arms.

How could a Shelby, out of all people, feel so fragile under your eyes?

And how was he alive?

‘’Apparently they think it's time for me to become a man, so,’’

‘’You’re not a man?’’ tilting your head to the side, you questioned.

‘’Not until I’ve fucked, I’m not.’’ you exhaled a laugh at that, getting up from your seat by the bed, and walking up to the small cabinet under the mirror. Opening it, you pulled a small bottle of rum out, pouring it out into one of the glasses that sat on top. Finn Shelby observed your movements from his side of the room, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves.

‘’I mean no offense by this, but that's a weird logic to have.’’ you walked up to him then, offering the glass up. He looked at it for a moment before taking it, with a nod of his head. You went back to fill your own.

‘’You think?’’ 

‘’I know.’’ you turned to look at him again, leaning back against the cabinet and stopping to sip on your drink. ‘’I’ve met all kinds of people, and I can assure you, no matter how many times they’d visit our whorehouse, or whomever they chose to fuck each night, that didn't make them any more of a man than they were before. Not in my eyes.’’ you shrugged.

‘’So fuck, or don’t. It’s the shit that you do outside of that what will tell everyone else what sort of man you’ve chosen to be.’’

He was silent again, but pain was visibly haunting his face. This was an intense chat to have with a stranger, but somehow this room, the very same room that held countless wars each day, some of them bloody and terrifying, had become no man’s land for the both of you, the sounds of guns and screams too far away for you to hear, and a strange sense of calm filling your chests.

‘’You don’t need to worry about me, I won’t tell anyone,’’ setting your glass down, you busied yourself looking for something else, giving him time to think, since he seemed to need it.

Once you found what you were looking for, you approached him again.

‘’Here,’’ you reached out your hand again, this time holding up to him a considerable amount of money; the same amount that you had received for the job. He seemed to snap out of his small trance then, knitting both eyebrows together softly.

‘’No, no, please keep it!’’ he held your hands and pushed them back gently.

‘’You payed for the fucking, and we’re not fucking, are we?’’ he didn’t let go of your hands, stubbornly holding them close to you.

‘’Let me pay you for your time, otherwise I’ll feel awful,’’

‘’Alright, if that's what you want, I thank you.’’

‘’I should be the one to thank you, really, uh… uhm… ‘’ he stared blankly at you for a second. You noticed his ears turning red, beneath all the freckles that adorned his skin.

‘’Something the matter?’’ you quirked one eyebrow up.

‘’I just realized I never asked for your name, that’s all.’’ he shook his head with an embarrassed smile, and you turned to look at him for a moment while you put the money back in its former place.

‘’My name? And why would that matter?’’ with a light groan, you fully rose back to your feet. God, you felt like sleeping. You hadn’t felt like sleeping in weeks.

‘’How can we become friends if I don't even know what to call you, miss?’’ his smile took you off guard, you had to admit. Lips folding into themselves with a soft curve, bared teeth never seemed so harmless in your eyes. 

‘’I suppose you're right,’’ after you told him your name, you reached for your glass and took a final swig, the both of you falling into a silence that could not be described accurately, for it didn’t make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, it gave you a sense of vertigo that felt deeply unusual.

Finn, on the other hand, looked way calmer than before, and you didn’t know him enough to tell, but you could swear there was a hint of the smile before lingering at the corners of his mouth.

‘’Well, I… will be taking my leave now, I’m supposed to be making money. But I’m glad to have met a man as respectable as you’ve proven to be, Finn,’’ you figured some theatricals wouldn't hurt, so you courtly bowed at him with a smile, turning to go for the door.

You stopped when you heard him call your name, however.

‘’Will you stay? I’ve some money left to spend, and I did enjoy our chat, you’re honest.'' when you turned to look at him, he was sitting on the bed again, a light smile while he looked at you. You couldn't help but return it.

''You’re paying me to speak to me? Shouldn't that be the other way around? You’re the Shelby, I’m just…''

“You’re you, and I’m me. At least in this room,'' he didn't stop looking in your eyes whilst you approached his sitting figure, waiting for some sort of confirmation, some mutual agreement. You pursed your lips, looking around for a moment.

''No man in sight?'' he shook his head at your words, and you stepped closer to the bed, to the free spot beside him.

''No woman either,'' he dared say as you sat down finally, letting your back hit the soft bed, and stretching your arms comfortably. You agreed, silently.

''Man, woman, what in the fuck does that mean, anyway?'' you whispered back, and he followed you down onto the softness.

[imaginedreamwrite]

And then?

does someone come for her? Does he get jealous?

“They call you Delilah? That’s not your real name though?” You feel your breath catching in your throat and you settle your hand on your stomach to ease your nerves.

He’s been following you from the saloon, the rich lawyer coming to deal with an estate sale. He tried to buy your time but like the sheriff guaranteed, your time was taken. You were locked out and given no option but to wait around for him to come calling for you.

No one else had ever shown you much interest once the sheriff had bid you off limits. Until the lawyer came off the stagecoach and you caught your eye.

“I’m not available, other women are.” You step down the steps and try to hurry toward the general store, no real purpose to your task other than to busy yourself. “You can find someone else-“

“Delilah, that’s beautiful.” He continued, a fine suit that was freshly pressed was abnormal in a place like this. “If you’re not available for your services then maybe…”

He cleared his throat and you stopped walking again, glancing back at him in a plain yet pretty dress that seemed above your station. He was insistent, he was trailing after you while trying to gain your attention for even a brief moment.

“Miss Delilah, I would love it if you could accompany me for lunch. At the cafe perhaps?” He was hopeful and you turned to face him. You weren’t secure whether your lips parted to accept or deny him and you found yourself lacking the capability to do either.

“Delilah.” A stern voice, the drawl that had whispered dirty words and affections to you a few nights ago, was now speaking your faux name with a possessive streak.

“Sheriff-” you spoke his rank, just once, and practically quivered under the tension that sparked between the two men.

“Sheriff, I’ve heard a lot about you.” The lawyer hadn’t backed down though he seemed intimidated by the set of pistols on the sheriff’s hips. “I was accompanying Miss-”

“Delilah,” he spoke your saloon given name and held out his arm for you to take, or to tug you behind him, “perhaps you should head to my door. I have something to discuss with you after I deal with our treasured guest.”

“Forgive me Sheriff but Miss Delilah and I were going to have a conversation of our own.”

He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the rich lawyer, a single glance and the purse of his lips. He was sizing the lawyer up, possibly debating whether to throw him in jail for some ridiculous reason.

“I know Miss Delilah is restricted, however its not her services I require.” The lawyer insisted and you inhaled sharply with the weight of tension reverberated.

“And what do you require of my whore?” Your eyes closed, your stomach dropped.

Your heart broke, and you couldn’t deny a tear rolling down your cheek.

What he said was true. You were, inherently, his paid whore.

“The company of a lady, sheriff.” The lawyer rest a hand in your hip and the sheriff’s jaw clicked. “For lunch, even you could allow that.”

[3amfanfiction]

It’s just dinner

Kyle asks you to have dinner with his captain—that’s normal, right?

2.1k, CW: sex work, unknowing prostitution, manipulation, gazslighting, enjoy!

You don’t know how you got here.

You’d think it would be obvious—what actions caused which responses, what conversations indicated acceptance. But as most things do, it all started so innocently.

Kyle was the perfect boyfriend. He was caring, understanding, and gave mind blowing head. Sure, sometimes he got a little bossyprotective, but it was always in your best interest!

He needed to know who you were hanging out with to make sure he could find you if there was an emergency. And he ended up being right about your friends, they weren’t looking out for your best interest.

You had a good thing with Kyle and it broke your heart when he came to you about your best friend propositioning him while you were out of town. You never would’ve believed it if he didn’t show you the texts himself. Honestly, it’s for the best that you cut ties. You haven’t had a chance to find new friends just yet— scared to put yourself out there as well as Kyle becoming extra protective over you after that incident. He practically glued himself to your side, wouldn’t even let you out of the house alone after that. He always looked out for you — the perfect boyfriend.

Maybe that’s why you didn’t push back very hard when he first brought it up.

“I know this makes you uncomfortable love, but it’s the Captain. I trust him with my life and he’s done so much for me—for us, lately,” he brushed the tips of his fingers along your hairline, down to your temple in a soft caress.

You were sitting on his lap, both legs thrown to one side while you leaned your shoulder against his chest. He had pulled you onto him shortly after lunch, saying he had something to talk to you about. Honestly, you were expecting a vacation—not this.

When you don’t respond to his statement he continues, “Remember last month when I was home for your birthday?” you nod shallowly, eyes darting to the side, “Cap pulled in quite a few favors to make it happen. I told him how important it was to you and he delivered.”

You force a swallow, trying to work up any amount of moisture in your mouth as your stomach knots in discomfort, “I didn't ask him to do that, Kyle,” defensive, why did you feel like you were in the wrong? “Regardless, why would he want dinner with me?”

This felt so far out of the realm of ordinary you didn’t have a clear path forward.

You’d spoken with John Price a handful of times. There had been get togethers with Kyle’s team and you’d gotten to visit with all of them. While your conversations with John were always easy, you felt they weren’t anything out of the ordinary.

“Hey now, I don’t want to hear any of that," Kyle frowns at you in admonishment. "You’re gorgeous and smart and any guy would be lucky if you gave them the time of day.” He cups your face in his palms, turning you fully towards him, “I love spending time with you, is it any surprise that my captain, the man I admire, also wants to spend time with you?”

His eyes are warm brown pools and they pull you into his orbit with ease. You feel yourself begin to fold. “I mean, wouldn’t it be weird?” You try, searching for a handhold in this free fall, “We’re dating and you want me to go on a date with another man. Wouldn't that make you uncomfortable?”

You try and turn your head away, attempting to put some space between the two of you so that you could breathe. It felt like you were drowning in his pull. He gently guided your face back towards his before shaking his head exasperatedly. “Love, it’s John,” as if you were a toddler that asked if you would go down the drain with the bath water. He tilts your head down to kiss the furrow between your brows before pulling you back up, eye to eye, “there’s no one safer I would have you with. Now, no more of this, you’ll have dinner with him this weekend.” His ‘I mean business’ voice coming out and you knew you had lost any chance of further arguments.

“Okay,” you stammer weakly, “okay, you’re right. It’s just dinner with your captain. I can do that.” You try to reassure yourself. You honestly don’t know why you’re so nervous. He’s always been a perfect gentleman, if a bit of a flirt, whenever you would speak. And it was just dinner. It would be like going to grab a meal with a friend.

Really.

Why were you being such a baby about this? You felt kind of silly that you were making the situation bigger than it was, now that a decision had been made.

Kyle beamed at you as if you had just told him you loved him for the first time. He peppered kisses all over your face, his faint stubble tickling the sensitive skin of your jaw and neck. “Such a good girl for me, pet,” in between nips and flicks of his tongue, “you’re absolutely perfect, do you know that?”

You giggle and wrap your arms around the back of his neck, keeping him close to you and tilting your chin to give him more access, “Yes, yes, I know, I’m wonderful.” You say in mock haughtiness.

You gasp as his hands work their way under your top to flick and pinch at your nipples, “so bloody wonderful,” is growled into your skin.

Before you can blink you’ve been flipped onto your back on the couch, Kyle pressing into your soft body, pinning you down. “Let me show you just how wonderful you are—” is all the warning you get before you’re stripped naked and he makes his way between your thighs, showing his appreciation. Again and again . . . . and again.

///

That led to tonight. Date night. With Captain John Price.

John was sitting across from you, eyes crinkled with the force of his smile as took you in.

“Doll, you look—“ here he trailed off for a second, looking for the perfect word, “like a dream.” He decided on with a decisive nod. You had to admit, he wasn't wrong.

Yesterday, Kyle convinced you that you needed a new outfit before your dinner with Captain Price.

"I can't have you showing up without looking your finest, babe," he said, bundling you into the car to head downtown. "We're going all out, do you hear me? New dress, new shoes, new lingerie."

"Kyle Garrick! We are not buying me new lingerie. This is just a dinner!" you screech at him in shock, astounded by his audacity and maybe a little bit hurt when he laughed at you.

"Calm down babe, it's nothing like that," he reassures as if you're a spooked horse, "that'll just be for us. You're going to be sitting with the Captain—eating dinner, laughing at his jokes, batting these pretty eyelashes for him— and I want to know that you're dressed like an absolute slut under your pretty dress."

Your damp panties made sure you couldn't look anyone in the eye the whole time you were at the boutique.

The fact that he made you pose for pictures before stepping into your dress tonight was very on brand for him. I need something to keep me company while you're at dinner. I'm going to be lonely sitting here all by myself while you're having fun.

You realized your date for the evening was looking at you, waiting for your response. You smoothed your palms over your thighs bashfully, "thank you, Captain Price. You look very handsome tonight also."

"Bah! I've told you pet, it's John. No need for formalities between us," he brushed you off with a smooth shrug of his wide shoulders, reaching across the table to pat your hand, leaving his palm to linger for a few heartbeats before withdrawing.

For tonight's dinner he had poured himself into a button up that was straining at the seams to keep his mass contained. A watch glinted at his wrist, drawing your gaze to his strong hands and thick fingers. His scarred knuckles causing something to flutter deep inside.

"John, then," you felt your cheeks warm with the gentle chastisement, taking a small sip of your drink to give yourself a moment to recenter. When you reached forward to set the glass back down you noticed John's eyes zero in around your shoulder, his gaze shifting away after a few moments, something flitting across his gaze, too quickly for you to make out.

"Tell me about your week, pet, what have you done?"

What followed was several hours of conversation and laughter, with good food and drinks mixed in. John had you eating off his fork, here love, you have to try these potatoes. I've never had them better, drinking his whiskey, you haven't had something this smooth in your mouth before, dove. Give it a sip, no I'll hold the glass, just tilt that pretty chin up for me, and slapping at his shoulder with an admonishing John Price! when he moved his chair around the table to whisper into your ear about the other patrons at the restaurant. His lips touching the sensitive skin with every gravely word spoken, those two over there? It's definitely their first date. Look at them, I bet he's going to have her dress up around her waist before they even make it out of the parking lot. I bet if we listen closely we'll be able to hear her squealing.

You did your best to mask the shudder that went down your spine as he continued, ignoring your censure as if you hadn't spoken, his deep voice causing the hair on your arms to rise. You were completely unprepared for his big palm to come down on your thigh under the table. If he wouldn't have been pressing down so firmly, your jolt would have sent your knee slamming into the underside of the table.

"Are you okay pet? Not cold, are you?" he asked in a concerned burr, already starting to reach for his jacket, ready to bundle you up if needed.

"No, no, I'm okay John," you reassured. As tempting as it was to be wrapped up in a thick coat that smelled like John's tobacco and woody cologne, it was probably best if you didn't cross that line. It felt too much like what someone would do when they were out on a date. You didn't want to send the wrong impression—you were here for a dinner between friends, that was all.

John of course was perfectly understanding. "Lovely. I'd hate to cover up that beautiful dress, anyways," he gave you a wink like you two were in on a joke together. He straightened back up to continue his comentary of the different dates happening in the restaurant.

You hadn't noticed it at first, but each table did in fact seem to be on a date. There wasn't a single group or family sitting down for dinner, it was all made up of couples. How strange.

With your last drinks finished, it was time for the night to be over. John pulled your chair back for you before offering his arm, walking you outside.

Standing under the stars, he reached up to adjust the shoulder of your dress with a secretive smile, fingers lingering to brush the soft skin before raising his hand to cup your jaw. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss into your cheek, keeping your face still—pinned.

After a heartbeat too long, he pulled back, the car service reaching the curb. He helped you into the backseat with a soft 'goodnight, pet, until next time'.

///

When you get home Kyle is waiting up, watching a movie quietly on the couch. He stands to greet you with a smile and a hug.

"My best girl, I've missed that pretty face," he crows, drawing you in for a kiss that never seems to end, making out like teenagers. Kyle seems ravenous, like he will die if he doesn't get the breath straight from your lungs. Your fingers press into his tight curls while his hands grope and squeeze the fat of your hips, kneading you similar to a cat.

He finally pulls back, leaving you panting and dazed, unsure of what precipitated—a reward? That's what it felt like, like a reward for doing something correctly. Mistake after mistake and you finally nailed the trick, aren't you so smart?

One final peck to your lips and he's taking a step back. He glanced down towards your shoulder and gives a little laugh, 'your pretty new bra is showing baby, are you trying to tease me?'

|||

Next || Story Repository

[silvery-orchid]

Okay but imagine: prostitute! reader x neuvillette. Do you see the vision?

Do you see how insane that power dynamic would be? Do you understand how he would hate your other clients? The medical checkups he would force you to take?

The way you would slowly start to lose customers because odd things have been happening to the bussiness that sustains their relationship to you. Maybe he knows your reason for why you choose that profession or maybe he doesn't actually even care because he needs a place and a person who doesn't rely on him or sees him as a perfect ideal. He has always been so curious about humans and he cannot help when that curiosity takes over and mixes with his dragon instincts huehue.

The way you would have to sit there and watch him sentence one of your good friends only to end up on your knees sucking on his cock because he pays good money and he brought you here and you should be thankful it wasn't you up there.

The sex would go crazy, insane that is obvious but the fact you are the ONLY thing chief justice Neuvillette cannot help but try to hold for himself? The way you would be his only dirty secret and crime???

Nobody else pays more money and he just waits until your debts are repayed so that you can stop making him jealous when he walks in and sees new jewellery from someone else. Stop servicing other men !! The rains are heavy enough already!! If he wants to pay outlandish sums of money to fuck someone else's cum out of you, you will let him !!

Seriously, just stop the masquerades to meet and let him pay off your debts so you can change your identity and be only his !!

[strafepanzer]

i’m queen (of sandcastles he destroys) | y.endo

▸ ▸ ▸warnings: 18+ mdni, prostitution, voyerism, creampie

▸ ▸ ▸word count: 700ish words

▸ ▸ ▸a/n: the beginning.. i do promise more. i am feeling crazyyy

Endo watches from his vantage point, unable to take his eyes away.

It’s been years since something has awakened anything remotely explosive inside him, since he’s felt what he’s feeling now. Hell, it's been a decade since high school.

Your eyes stay locked on Endo’s as the stranger tugs your dress up, and up, and up, his mouth on your neck, your hands on his shoulders keeping you grounded. There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as he ravages you, as he drops his pants, as he lifts one of your legs over his hip.

The look on your face changes as the man pushes against you, into you, his ass muscles tensing and head dropping to your tits. Your head falls back against the dirty wall of the alley, the security light above you illuminating your face, the shine of your eyes almost ethereal as you meet Endo’s again.

Shit.

He’s half a mind to jump over the railing, abandoning his smoking spot on the third floor’s fire escape. But this… Watching?

His pants tighten when the man finally elicits a moan from your pretty mouth, and Endo takes a long drag on his cigarette to compensate.

The man kisses up your neck, your jaw, catches your lips in a messy, wet kiss, but your eyes stay on Endo’s. Even as your hands travel up the man’s neck, into his hair, as he groans deep and low, as he fucks into you desperately, as he pushes a strap from your dress and exposes one of your breasts to the crisp night air, your eyes stay on his.

Endo sucks his lip ring, worries it between his teeth, watches as you tug at his hair roughly to pull his mouth away from yours, as you lean forward to sink your teeth into his neck.

Fuck, Endo thinks, practically feeling your teeth against his skin.

"Fuck," the man curses, the sound of wet skin slapping together intensifying. "Fuck, baby, yeah," he breathes, voice trailing higher and higher with each thrust of his hips against yours.

"You can come inside," you promise, those captivating eyes of yours staring into Endo’s, your voice carrying across the alley and up to him.

"Shit, baby, yeah… God your pussy, your fucking pussy…" he moans, thrusting and thrusting and thrusting one last time before he stills.

Ash falls from the end of Endo’s cigarette.

The man pulls away from you, and you finally break your spell, dropping your eyes to your body to fix your dress— pulling the strap up, tugging the skirt down. Then you’re opening your purse, holding your hand out.

He fixes himself too, the jingle of a belt, a sweaty hand through mussed hair. "How much?"

"Two fifty."

"You said one fifty!"

"You came inside me, bozo."

"You said I could!" He whines. You level a glare with him, and he gives in, slapping the money in your palm and watching you count it. "Are you gonna be working next weekend too?" He sounds hopeful, sounds nervous.

You shrug as you fold the bills and slide them into your purse. "Do you want me to work next weekend, sweetie?"

"H- I," he laughs awkwardly. "Y-yeah, it’d be good to see you again. You’re just, ah, god you’re so beautiful—"

"You should go," you interrupt him, looking left and right. "I’m not actually allowed to do this; that’s what the brothels are for."

"Right! Yes! Okay! Well, I’ll… I’ll uh,"

"Bye," you wave, sending him running with a fake smile.

A minute goes past. You reach into your purse and pull out a cigarette. "Got a light?”

Endo laughs. Head thrown back, eyes to the moon, laughter. “No, I lit the cig I was smoking the entire time that dude fucked you with my mind."

You level him with a look, but there’s humour behind your eyes. "You could have looked away at any moment, but you didn’t. Do you want a turn?"

Mirth glows in his eyes. "You’re full of come."

Your smile widens. "Yeah, I know."

He stares down at you, a used toy.

Glorious.

Endo snuffs what’s left of his cig into the metal step at his ass, grins wide as he leans a little closer to the railing to stare down at you. "You wanna just do it down there?"

A pout forms on your petal lips as you contemplate his question. "Is that your apartment?" You ask, putting the cigarette away and fiddling with your hair as he nods. One look to the left, one to the right, and you’re stepping a little closer, craning your neck to look up at him. "You got ramen?"

Giddiness bubbles up inside him at the prospect of you in his bed. On his couch. Against his dirty kitchen bench. His pretty, dirty, used thing.

"I’ll buzz you up."

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The Job (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 23. Forced to Watch, Alt 25. Stalked Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: Tommy has been hiring you for your services for a while now, but this is the first time he has asked you for help concerning his family business... Word Count: 3205 TW: Fighting, Razor Blades, Blood, Forced to Watch, Stalked, Prostitution, Reader as Bait, Smoking, Implied Death Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and supported its writing, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Mastlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

But Tommy didn’t seem amused by your joke. His piercing blue eyes stared at you for a long moment, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. Then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he placed it between his lips, he said, “A different sort of job. On Friday night, I need you to make yourself look pretty and go down to The Marquis of Lorne.”

“The Marquis of—” you turned to look at him straight on. “Why would you want me to go to that pub when The Garrison is right here? Places like that on the edge of your territory… People there don’t always take kindly to me. Not with my reputation and all that.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you asked, “And why, pray tell, is that? What are you expecting me to do once I’m there? Because I’ve told you before, I pick who I service and I won’t have you demanding–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tommy said, calmly. “Like I already told you, it’s a different sort of job. Your reputation alone is more than enough to fit my needs. Just go to The Marquis, order a few drinks ‘til you’ve created the illusion you’ve become intoxicated, and then walk out the pub, simple as that. I’ll be waiting for you after at my stables down by the canal.” 

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

Tommy tapped the end of his cigarette into the glass of water you had left out on the table. You had scolded him about doing so countless times but now did not seem like the moment to comment on it. Raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he said, “There is a new gang trying to move in on our territories. They think we haven’t noticed and we mean to put an end to it before they realize we caught on. They frequent The Marquis on Friday nights so I need you to go in, get their attention, and once you have made them believe your tongue is nice and loose, I want you to start spilling all of the Peaky Blinders’s secrets— the false ones I tell you to say, of course.”

“Ahhh…” you nodded, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You want me to make them believe you’ve let slip sensitive information when you come to me for my services. Which is why you want me for my reputation. They’ll think Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore has caught him with his pants down in more ways than one.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips. 

Walking over to where he was sitting, you plucked the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in your mouth. You inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out right in Tommy’s face. “So, that’s it? I provide these fools who are crazy enough to try and challenge you false information on the Peaky Blinders and then just go along my way?”

Tommy ignored the smoke as he reached out and took his cigarette back, his fingers lingering for a moment as they brushed against yours. “Like you said, these men are fools. They’ll believe your deception. And when you leave the pub announcing you are going to sleep it off in one of the Peaky Blinders’s empty stash houses, they will follow you. And I will be waiting.”

You had to admit, it was a clever plan. Due to the popularity of the Peaky Blinders and the constant gossip surrounding them, everyone throughout Birmingham knew who you were and about your weekly dealings with Tommy Shelby. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you and you often caught people pointing or staring. Not that you usually minded. It was actually rather good for business. After all, what man wouldn’t want to say they had bedded the same woman as the head of the Peaky Blinders?

But while you had been servicing Tommy weekly for almost a year, he had never asked you to get involved in any Peaky Blinders business before this. In fact, Tommy had made it very clear from the start that you were to have no part in that aspect of his life. You were his momentary escape, a place where he could spend an hour or so without the weight of the world on his shoulders. So for him to come to you now asking this…. He must be more concerned about the other gang than he was letting on.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

“You just get them there and leave the rest to me,” Tommy said as he dropped the remains of his cigarette butt into your glass of water. Standing, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and gave you a tight smile. “So, do we have an arrangement?”

Biting your lip, you mulled the question over for a moment. Tommy was a brilliant strategist and you had no doubt his plan would work. But his brush off of your questions about what happened afterward had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. However, it was ill-advised to say no to someone as powerful as Thomas Shelby, so somewhat reluctantly, you said, “Fine. But I expect double my usual fee.”

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.” 

His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?” 

For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

As with most of Tommy’s plans, everything that Friday night went exactly as he predicted. Polly ended up bringing you a flashy new dress to wear that Tommy had purchased and from the moment you stepped into The Marquis of Lorne, you felt the weight of dozens of eyes on you. From there, it was easy to loudly drop Tommy’s name and your connection to him as you pretended to drink—as well as your “top secret” facts about the Peaky Blinders. Your table was soon swarmed by the gang members you were targeting, each offering to buy you another drink in the hopes of loosening your tongue further.

As the night wore on, a few of the men began getting more familiar with you than you were comfortable with, but you maintained your drunken facade and smiled through it. In your line of work, you had dealt with much worse before. However after one man stuck his hand up the bottom of your dress, you decided things had gone far enough and you rose unsteadily to your feet as you announced you were taking your leave. The men tried to convince you to stay or let them walk you home, but you insisted you would be alright on your own—there was an empty Peaky Blinders stash house nearby that you could sleep in for the night. You bit your lip to hide the smile threatening to break across your face as all the men’s eyes grew wide and they exchanged telling glances. Tommy Shelby, you are one brilliant man.

As you made your way out of the pub and into the foggy night, you could hear the men following close behind you. This was the part of the plan that concerned you the most. Back in the pub, there were other patrons who would step in if one of the men went too far or you called out for help. But out here on the empty road in the middle of the night, you doubted anyone would come to your aid if the men decided to approach you. You just had to trust Tommy knew what he was talking about and they would be more interested in finding the fake stash house than harassing you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy’s stable came into view. He had promised to meet you but as you got closer, there was no sign that anyone was there. Hesitating by the door, you wondered what you should do. There was no back door that you knew of so if something had happened and Tommy wasn’t there, you would be trapped inside alone with the gang between you and the only way out. But even if you decided to leave and continue on down the road, the gang would continue following you until they eventually grew suspicious and confronted you. So there was really no choice. You said a quick, silent prayer that Tommy was waiting for you, and you stepped inside.

You continued walking until you reached the far wall of the stable, but still, no Tommy. Your heart was beating furiously in your chest as the men behind you began to call out to you—crude, drunken taunts, and horrifying descriptions of what they were going to do to you. Spinning around, you looked everywhere desperately trying to find anything you could use to protect yourself with, but there were only a few hay bales. Trembling, you sunk to the ground and waited for the worst to come.

But just as the closest man was about to reach you, a figure stepped into the doorway of the stable, eclipsing the moonlight that had been illuminating the darkened space. Relief flooded through you as you recognized that familiar silhouette. Tommy had kept his word.

The men all turned and must have recognized him a few seconds after you did because a hushed murmur rippled through their group as they looked at him. Despite the fact they very obviously outnumbered him, you could sense the air of fear emanating from them, and you couldn’t blame them. While he may only be one man, this was Tommy Fucking Shelby they were facing. And that should be enough to terrify an army of men. 

Tommy began to slowly walk forward, closing the distance between him and the men. As he slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side, he called out in a strong voice that filled the stable, “Word on the streets is that you boys are trying to move in on our territory. Take things that are ours while you think we aren’t looking.” 

He gestured to where you were still huddled on the ground. Now that he had come closer, you could just make out his face. He raised one eyebrow at you, a silent query if you were alright. You nodded shakily and rose to your feet, still pressed tightly against the wall. You felt his eyes scanning you for anything amiss, and he gave a satisfied nod when he deemed you safe. 

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I am certain you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy came to a stop—his heels clicking loudly together—just a few inches before the closest man. Though his back was to you, you could tell the man was frightened by the way his hands shook as he raised them in the air. 

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You gasped in horror and pressed your hands to your mouth as a trail of blood flew through the air and splattered on the floor. Almost in slow motion, the man dropped to his knees, a horrendous gurgling emanating from his ruined throat. Then Tommy swung his cap again, using the razorblades sewn in the brim to finish the job, and the man toppled over without another sound.

The stable burst into chaos. The rest of the men rushed at Tommy but he was ready for them. Normally, it would have been near impossible odds with Tommy outnumbered so, but the men had been drinking very heavily back in the pub and their senses were dulled considerably. Tommy was able to avoid most of their attacks while landing blow after blow on the men—his razorblades sending blood flying with every swing.

You of course knew of the Peaky Blinders’s signature weapon of choice, yet this was the first time you had seen anyone use it in action. It was a horrendously strange sight to see: Tommy swinging something so innocuous as his tweed flat cap at the other men just for a burst of crimson blood to bloom in that same spot. And the fluid manner in which Tommy ducked and dodged, weaving his way from one man to the next, was almost beautiful in a way. Like a dancer taking the stage—stage made of blood.

There was no avoiding it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, burning your nose. Somehow, it even blocked out the pungent smells from all of the horses. Even in only the pale glow from the moonlight, everywhere you looked was dripping red. You had only been spared because you had dove sideways to huddle behind the hay bales next to you once the attack began, but they had taken the full brunt of the carnage. Blood was slowly filtering through the tightly packed hay as it traveled downward toward the ground—the pool on the floor steadily creeping closer to your feet.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

You froze, unsure of your next move. Tommy had never said anything about you remaining once you had done your part. Your only job was to lure the men to the stable and he would take care of the rest. Surely he didn’t mean for you to remain here to witness this slaughter?

And yet, he remained standing there with all of his focus on you despite his remaining enemies still swarming around him, blood dripping off of the end of his outstretched finger. So you did the only thing you could. You released your dress, letting the fabric fall once more to the ground, and nodded to him even as you shrank back behind the hay bales, quivering in fear. 

Seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t attempt to bolt again, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and turned back to the melee. There were only a few men still standing—the others were left moaning on the ground as they clutched at their wounds, or worse still, some lay perfectly still in growing pools of their own blood. 

With fewer opponents charging him at once, Tommy took a new, less frantic approach to the fight. Instead of attacking with the blades sewn into his hat, he began to use his fists— the sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the open area as his knuckles slammed into noses and cheekbones. One man even dropped like a stone as Tommy drove his fist into the man’s jaw. 

And you were forced to watch it all, terrified of what Tommy might do if you even glanced away. The one saving grace that made it even slightly bearable was that the clouds had shifted to partially cover the moon, hindering the visibility inside the stable. But that did nothing to shield you from the sounds or smells surrounding you.

Finally—mercifully—Tommy struck down the last of the gang members. He stood in the middle of the stable, chest heaving, as he looked around at the carnage surrounding him. Like this, he resembled some ancient god of war reveling in his battlefield, washed in the blood of his enemies.

Satisfied the fight was over, he picked his way through the maze of bodies on the floor and stopped before your hiding place. He held out his hand to you, but you ignored it, unable to touch the blood that coated it. Instead, you stepped out from behind the hay bales on your own and stood before him, unable to meet his eye.

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

His eyes flickered over you, and even with such a slight gesture, you felt the weight of his gaze as it examined every inch of you. You had stood bare in front of Thomas Shelby more times than you could count, had him thrust into the deepest part of your core on a weekly basis, and yet, you had never felt as exposed or vulnerable as you did right now.

As his eyes settled once more on your face, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. He placed it on the hay bale beside you and you shuttered to see his bloody fingerprints stained on the top bill. 

“I included a little extra for your trouble.” Your eyes snapped back up to look at him. Despite the circumstances, Tommy’s voice was as calm and level as always. It was the sort of tone one would expect to hear him use when he visited the church or held a business meeting, not when standing there surrounded by the corpses of his enemies and dyed red with their blood. 

“Now you are free to go.” He turned and walked calmly back towards the stable entrance. Pausing only momentarily to pick up his jacket, he slid it on in one fluid motion as he added, his back still turned towards you, “I’ll be round Wednesday at my normal time.” 

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought. 

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Job (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 23. Forced to Watch, Alt 25. Stalked Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: Tommy has been hiring you for your services for a while now, but this is the first time he has asked you for help concerning his family business... Word Count: 3205 TW: Fighting, Razor Blades, Blood, Forced to Watch, Stalked, Prostitution, Reader as Bait, Smoking, Implied Death Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and supported its writing, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

But Tommy didn’t seem amused by your joke. His piercing blue eyes stared at you for a long moment, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. Then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he placed it between his lips, he said, “A different sort of job. On Friday night, I need you to make yourself look pretty and go down to The Marquis of Lorne.”

“The Marquis of—” you turned to look at him straight on. “Why would you want me to go to that pub when The Garrison is right here? Places like that on the edge of your territory… People there don’t always take kindly to me. Not with my reputation and all that.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you asked, “And why, pray tell, is that? What are you expecting me to do once I’m there? Because I’ve told you before, I pick who I service and I won’t have you demanding–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tommy said, calmly. “Like I already told you, it’s a different sort of job. Your reputation alone is more than enough to fit my needs. Just go to The Marquis, order a few drinks ‘til you’ve created the illusion you’ve become intoxicated, and then walk out the pub, simple as that. I’ll be waiting for you after at my stables down by the canal.” 

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

Tommy tapped the end of his cigarette into the glass of water you had left out on the table. You had scolded him about doing so countless times but now did not seem like the moment to comment on it. Raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he said, “There is a new gang trying to move in on our territories. They think we haven’t noticed and we mean to put an end to it before they realize we caught on. They frequent The Marquis on Friday nights so I need you to go in, get their attention, and once you have made them believe your tongue is nice and loose, I want you to start spilling all of the Peaky Blinders’s secrets— the false ones I tell you to say, of course.”

“Ahhh…” you nodded, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You want me to make them believe you’ve let slip sensitive information when you come to me for my services. Which is why you want me for my reputation. They’ll think Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore has caught him with his pants down in more ways than one.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips. 

Walking over to where he was sitting, you plucked the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in your mouth. You inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out right in Tommy’s face. “So, that’s it? I provide these fools who are crazy enough to try and challenge you false information on the Peaky Blinders and then just go along my way?”

Tommy ignored the smoke as he reached out and took his cigarette back, his fingers lingering for a moment as they brushed against yours. “Like you said, these men are fools. They’ll believe your deception. And when you leave the pub announcing you are going to sleep it off in one of the Peaky Blinders’s empty stash houses, they will follow you. And I will be waiting.”

You had to admit, it was a clever plan. Due to the popularity of the Peaky Blinders and the constant gossip surrounding them, everyone throughout Birmingham knew who you were and about your weekly dealings with Tommy Shelby. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you and you often caught people pointing or staring. Not that you usually minded. It was actually rather good for business. After all, what man wouldn’t want to say they had bedded the same woman as the head of the Peaky Blinders?

But while you had been servicing Tommy weekly for almost a year, he had never asked you to get involved in any Peaky Blinders business before this. In fact, Tommy had made it very clear from the start that you were to have no part in that aspect of his life. You were his momentary escape, a place where he could spend an hour or so without the weight of the world on his shoulders. So for him to come to you now asking this…. He must be more concerned about the other gang than he was letting on.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

“You just get them there and leave the rest to me,” Tommy said as he dropped the remains of his cigarette butt into your glass of water. Standing, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and gave you a tight smile. “So, do we have an arrangement?”

Biting your lip, you mulled the question over for a moment. Tommy was a brilliant strategist and you had no doubt his plan would work. But his brush off of your questions about what happened afterward had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. However, it was ill-advised to say no to someone as powerful as Thomas Shelby, so somewhat reluctantly, you said, “Fine. But I expect double my usual fee.”

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.” 

His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?” 

For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

As with most of Tommy’s plans, everything that Friday night went exactly as he predicted. Polly ended up bringing you a flashy new dress to wear that Tommy had purchased and from the moment you stepped into The Marquis of Lorne, you felt the weight of dozens of eyes on you. From there, it was easy to loudly drop Tommy’s name and your connection to him as you pretended to drink—as well as your “top secret” facts about the Peaky Blinders. Your table was soon swarmed by the gang members you were targeting, each offering to buy you another drink in the hopes of loosening your tongue further.

As the night wore on, a few of the men began getting more familiar with you than you were comfortable with, but you maintained your drunken facade and smiled through it. In your line of work, you had dealt with much worse before. However after one man stuck his hand up the bottom of your dress, you decided things had gone far enough and you rose unsteadily to your feet as you announced you were taking your leave. The men tried to convince you to stay or let them walk you home, but you insisted you would be alright on your own—there was an empty Peaky Blinders stash house nearby that you could sleep in for the night. You bit your lip to hide the smile threatening to break across your face as all the men’s eyes grew wide and they exchanged telling glances. Tommy Shelby, you are one brilliant man.

As you made your way out of the pub and into the foggy night, you could hear the men following close behind you. This was the part of the plan that concerned you the most. Back in the pub, there were other patrons who would step in if one of the men went too far or you called out for help. But out here on the empty road in the middle of the night, you doubted anyone would come to your aid if the men decided to approach you. You just had to trust Tommy knew what he was talking about and they would be more interested in finding the fake stash house than harassing you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy’s stable came into view. He had promised to meet you but as you got closer, there was no sign that anyone was there. Hesitating by the door, you wondered what you should do. There was no back door that you knew of so if something had happened and Tommy wasn’t there, you would be trapped inside alone with the gang between you and the only way out. But even if you decided to leave and continue on down the road, the gang would continue following you until they eventually grew suspicious and confronted you. So there was really no choice. You said a quick, silent prayer that Tommy was waiting for you, and you stepped inside.

You continued walking until you reached the far wall of the stable, but still, no Tommy. Your heart was beating furiously in your chest as the men behind you began to call out to you—crude, drunken taunts, and horrifying descriptions of what they were going to do to you. Spinning around, you looked everywhere desperately trying to find anything you could use to protect yourself with, but there were only a few hay bales. Trembling, you sunk to the ground and waited for the worst to come.

But just as the closest man was about to reach you, a figure stepped into the doorway of the stable, eclipsing the moonlight that had been illuminating the darkened space. Relief flooded through you as you recognized that familiar silhouette. Tommy had kept his word.

The men all turned and must have recognized him a few seconds after you did because a hushed murmur rippled through their group as they looked at him. Despite the fact they very obviously outnumbered him, you could sense the air of fear emanating from them, and you couldn’t blame them. While he may only be one man, this was Tommy Fucking Shelby they were facing. And that should be enough to terrify an army of men. 

Tommy began to slowly walk forward, closing the distance between him and the men. As he slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side, he called out in a strong voice that filled the stable, “Word on the streets is that you boys are trying to move in on our territory. Take things that are ours while you think we aren’t looking.” 

He gestured to where you were still huddled on the ground. Now that he had come closer, you could just make out his face. He raised one eyebrow at you, a silent query if you were alright. You nodded shakily and rose to your feet, still pressed tightly against the wall. You felt his eyes scanning you for anything amiss, and he gave a satisfied nod when he deemed you safe. 

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I'll bet you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy came to a stop—his heels clicking loudly together—just a few inches before the closest man. Though his back was to you, you could tell the man was frightened by the way his hands shook as he raised them in the air. 

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You gasped in horror and pressed your hands to your mouth as a trail of blood flew through the air and splattered on the floor. Almost in slow motion, the man dropped to his knees, a horrendous gurgling emanating from his ruined throat. Then Tommy swung his cap again, using the razorblades sewn in the brim to finish the job, and the man toppled over without another sound.

The stable burst into chaos. The rest of the men rushed at Tommy but he was ready for them. Normally, it would have been near impossible odds with Tommy outnumbered so, but the men had been drinking very heavily back in the pub and their senses were dulled considerably. Tommy was able to avoid most of their attacks while landing blow after blow on the men—his razorblades sending blood flying with every swing.

You of course knew of the Peaky Blinders’s signature weapon of choice, yet this was the first time you had seen anyone use it in action. It was a horrendously strange sight to see: Tommy swinging something so innocuous as his tweed flat cap at the other men just for a burst of crimson blood to bloom in that same spot. And the fluid manner in which Tommy ducked and dodged, weaving his way from one man to the next, was almost beautiful in a way. Like a dancer taking the stage—stage made of blood.

There was no avoiding it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, burning your nose. Somehow, it even blocked out the pungent smells from all of the horses. Even in only the pale glow from the moonlight, everywhere you looked was dripping red. You had only been spared because you had dove sideways to huddle behind the hay bales next to you once the attack began, but they had taken the full brunt of the carnage. Blood was slowly filtering through the tightly packed hay as it traveled downward toward the ground—the pool on the floor steadily creeping closer to your feet.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

You froze, unsure of your next move. Tommy had never said anything about you remaining once you had done your part. Your only job was to lure the men to the stable and he would take care of the rest. Surely he didn’t mean for you to remain here to witness this slaughter?

And yet, he remained standing there with all of his focus on you despite his remaining enemies still swarming around him, blood dripping off of the end of his outstretched finger. So you did the only thing you could. You released your dress, letting the fabric fall once more to the ground, and nodded to him even as you shrank back behind the hay bales, quivering in fear. 

Seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t attempt to bolt again, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and turned back to the melee. There were only a few men still standing—the others were left moaning on the ground as they clutched at their wounds, or worse still, some lay perfectly still in growing pools of their own blood. 

With fewer opponents charging him at once, Tommy took a new, less frantic approach to the fight. Instead of attacking with the blades sewn into his hat, he began to use his fists— the sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the open area as his knuckles slammed into noses and cheekbones. One man even dropped like a stone as Tommy drove his fist into the man’s jaw. 

And you were forced to watch it all, terrified of what Tommy might do if you even glanced away. The one saving grace that made it even slightly bearable was that the clouds had shifted to partially cover the moon, hindering the visibility inside the stable. But that did nothing to shield you from the sounds or smells surrounding you.

Finally—mercifully—Tommy struck down the last of the gang members. He stood in the middle of the stable, chest heaving, as he looked around at the carnage surrounding him. Like this, he resembled some ancient god of war reveling in his battlefield, washed in the blood of his enemies.

Satisfied the fight was over, he picked his way through the maze of bodies on the floor and stopped before your hiding place. He held out his hand to you, but you ignored it, unable to touch the blood that coated it. Instead, you stepped out from behind the hay bales on your own and stood before him, unable to meet his eye.

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

His eyes flickered over you, and even with such a slight gesture, you felt the weight of his gaze as it examined every inch of you. You had stood bare in front of Thomas Shelby more times than you could count, had him thrust into the deepest part of your core on a weekly basis, and yet, you had never felt as exposed or vulnerable as you did right now.

As his eyes settled once more on your face, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. He placed it on the hay bale beside you and you shuttered to see his bloody fingerprints stained on the top bill. 

“I included a little extra for your trouble.” Your eyes snapped back up to look at him. Despite the circumstances, Tommy’s voice was as calm and level as always. It was the sort of tone one would expect to hear him use when he visited the church or held a business meeting, not when standing there surrounded by the corpses of his enemies and dyed red with their blood. 

“Now you are free to go.” He turned and walked calmly back towards the stable entrance. Pausing only momentarily to pick up his jacket, he slid it on in one fluid motion as he added, his back still turned towards you, “I’ll be round Wednesday at my normal time.” 

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought. 

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix

[zweiginator]

Hehehe lawyer reader x client patrick

patrick getting sued for defamation and he literally only hires you because you're hot and he's a piece of shit <3 he doesn't know anything about what's happening.

"how can they sue me i dont have any fucking money." and he thinks that's the biggest slam dunk.

"they'll go after your assets--literally anything you have."

and then he's like oh fuck.

and at first you really don't get along with him but every meeting you have, he's a little more cooperative. buys you lunch and coffees even though he really doesn't have money.

"you don't need to buy me things." you say, flipping through some of his documents.

"i want to spoil you it's what men are evolved to do."

you shake your head. "i'm your attorney. not a sugar baby."

he just raises his eyebrows and shrugs. chews his gum.

"i dont want to be rude but i have way more money than you do. go ahead and save yours. you have attorney fees to pay." and you shut his file. you have another meeting in twenty to prepare for but patrick never wants to leave.

your intelligence and confidence turns patrick on so much it makes him visibly hard by the time he leaves your firm. and once he leaned in to kiss you and you almost gave in because he is cute when he's pathetic. you would've messed around with him by now if he weren't your client.

he whined, asked why you can't just go out with him.

you whisper against his mouth.

"i'm your attorney, patrick. there's ethics to follow. but in two months after we win this case for you--you and i can go on one date. how does that sound?"

[sirensea14]

Can you draw Milo? (Which is KC in your story, remember?)

I wonder what he looks like! :)

NAME: Milo Starrling

AGE: 9 years old

GENDER: Male

APPEARANCE:

Red hair, green eyes, light skin.

Wearing an oversized yellow-orange striped shirt paired with orange shorts.

PERSONALITY:

Calm and cool. Always showing off something he deems cool, especially does it to the orphans during freetime. Does well in the History subject, but he can't handle Math. Playful and quite troublesome in recess and freetime. So rowdy he managed to catch some adults tweaking something under the statue of the Smiling Critters and get to talk to some of them. Sometimes refuses to sleep and tried his best to evade the Poppy Gas. His favorite toys are KickinChicken and Huggy Wuggy. He often plays with his best friend.

HISTORY:

A product of streetwalking, he didn't know who his father was. His mother meanwhile, beated and neglected him. He was left in the streets at the age of 6, forcing himself to survive the harsh conditions of heat, rain, hunger and homelessness. Two years after his homeless state, a Playtime Co. employee found him and took him to Playcare, the underground orphanage of Playtime Co.

Arriving at Playcare, he was quiet and untrusting. But after months of hopeful interaction, the other orphans and teacher have finally made him speak. Being at Playcare, he was troublesome for the workers, often messing around with them and despite the employees' protocol to NOT interact with any of them, the child will always create ways to play with the workers. Often acts cool and strong in front of the other orphans in the Playcare. Though he is exceptionally caring and close towards a certain child, seemingly having interest on her/him. From observation, they seem to be forming a bond.

In the Home Sweet Home, he shares a double deck bed with a friend.

Then after 2 years of bond, his friend got adopted. His demeanor dropped drastically, seemingly back to his emotional state of when he first arrived. But notably worse.

He is subject to be a candidate for Experiment # [REDACTED]. Further study and testing is required for such procedure.

Oops, i accidentally made a profile info of him lol.

[3amfanfiction]

It’s Just Dinner pt 2

Part 2 to this. Kyle offers you to John for the night (no smut). MDNI

Cw: gazlighting, manipulation, forced prostitution

What?

Your ears tune back in, the whine receding, just in time to hear, "—and then the way he wouldn't stop downright bragging about your date last time, it finally hit me what he would enjoy for his birthday—you!"

Your eyes stay focused on his hands, chopping through vegetables, getting ready to add them to the pan. His thick fingers holding the blade steady with his strong wrist controlling the downward motion.

"I don't—Kyle—" you finally manage, voice thin before it chokes back out, as if a fist is squeezing your throat, denying you the words.

Was this happening again? Something's wrong—isn't it?

You'd had a good time with John the last time you saw him. You were beyond mortified when you realized you'd been flashing your bra at him all evening and he was too much of a gentleman to say anything. But that's the kind of man he is—respectful, kind, considerate. But you still felt . . . uneasy . . . with this.

"What's all that fussing for, babe?" he asked, concerned as he set the knife down and finally turned towards you, leaning back against the counter with his palms pressed to the edge on either side of him, emphasizing his broad shoulders while his biceps curved out from the ends of his short sleeves. He frowned, brow furrowing as he looked at you. "What's going on in that beautiful, silly little head of yours?"

You shake your head as if trying to make your thought sort into their correct place, "I just—" just what? Were being anxious? Were being purposely difficult? "don't think I want to?" you finally settled on, voice upticking at the end despite you trying to be firm.

You watch as a quick wash of—dismay?—crosses Kyle's face, there and gone in a flash before he walks over and places his hands on your shoulders, "did something happen?" he squeezed firmly, grounding, before attempting to peer into your soul, "did he do something, love?" His brow was furrowed with concern, searching your eyes for the truth, "something that made you uncomfortable?"

You looked up, franticly rushing to reassure him, "no, no nothing like that!" oh god, what if he complained to John about you? What if you made them argue and then because they were distracted, one of them ended up dead? Because of you. Because of this? Your hands raised to press against his chest, taking in his warmth, how solid he was, still alive, still with you in your home. This was still able to be fixed. "John was fine—he was great even, I promise! It's jus—"

"Good," he cuts you off in relief, not realizing you were still talking, "that's good to hear. Cap would be heartbroken if he found out he'd scared you away. He looks tough," his voice lowered as if imparting a national secret, "but he's the best out of all of us."

///

At least you got a new outfit out of it.

Kyle makes a great shopping buddy, he makes sure to always carry the bags and get the bill. He didn't even mention your pouting in the beginning, simply stopping by a food truck on the way to get you a treat. You were almost embarrassed by how quickly your mood did a 180.

He also normally likes everything you pick, but today—

"Not that dress love."

"You don't like it?" You ask, taken aback for a moment before turning in the mirror to take another look. You though it was quite flattering when you'd first put it on. The material swished nicely as you twisted your hips, trying to look at the back of the dress and see what he saw.

Kyle scoffs almost dismissively, "that's not it, you're bloody gorgeous in everything you wear and that dress is stunning on you." You watch in the mirror as he comes up to you, wrapping his arms around you before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. "The captain just asked if you could wear gold tonight is all."

What?

He—he was picking out your dress too? It felt like you just ran face-first into a brick wall, a cheeping trio of birds flapping around in a circle above your head. Kyle clearly didn't see an issue and continued, "since this is a birthday dinner the brass are hosting for him, matching helps him blend in a bit better."

He wrapped his arms around you from behind, palms resting on your stomach before he pulled you firmly into him, fingers digging into any softness he could find. He began nibbling on the thin skin behind your ear as one palm crept up to pinch a nipple. When you gasped at the shock of it he pulled away to pat you on the ass, "well—blend in as much as he can with such a stunning woman on his arm."

///

As was apparently becoming tradition, Kyle wanted a picture of you in your new underthings. This time you were standing at the bathroom counter, just your panties and bra on while you leaned towards the mirror, finishing your hair. You had made eye contact with the phone through the mirror right as he snapped it, a wide, doe-eyed startled look being portrayed.

///

"—and who is this charming creature?" one of the men John had been speaking with asks, looking over to you.

John answers with subtle delight, "this stunning vision is my date for the night," not trying to hide his warm regard for you.

You closed your mouth, half-formed words bitten back behind your teeth before you smile at the man, extending a hand when he reaches out.

Fading into the background as you've been doing for most of the night, you let this most recent conversation wash over you. John had been steering you around the room with a hand pressed low on your back all evening, moving from one group to the next with ease, seeming to know everyone.

A half hour in had you surreptitiously checking John's watch. That's how long it took before you were no longer entranced by the beautiful dresses and stunning suits, admiring the women with too much jewelry and the girls standing next to men old enough to be their father. Although, you really couldn't jud—

"Of course," John said agreeingly as he turned to you, "you don't mind do you, pet?"

You scrambled to remember the last few moments of conversation, drawing a blank before John took pity on you, smiling indulgently, "our conversation is going to be too boring for those pretty ears, why don't you go find something to drink and we'll meet back up once I'm finished.

"Of course!" you reassure, not upset in the least to leave the conversation you've had no part in, "I'd love a moment to freshen up." You smile up at him, preparing to step away when he reaches a hand to the back of your neck, careful to not muss your hair.

A half-step forward as he leans towards you, gapping the distance, causes his kiss to brush the corner of your mouth rather than land on your cheek. He holds for a moment, his warm hand cupped around the back of your neck keeping you still before pulling away; a muted pop sounding as his lips left your skin.

"Have fun, sweetheart," smiling down at you, eyes warm and inviting, "you come find me later." With that commandment he turned away to fall into conversation with the two gentlemen, no longer concerned with your presence.

///

The door almost dented the wall when you reached the restroom and flung it open, the muted bang causing the trembling in your hands to worsen.

What was that? Why'd he kiss you at all, let alone like that? Was it an accident or did he do it on purpose?

Whirling around your brain in a fury, these thoughts all screamed for your full attention. You couldn't focus on any one emotion until dread claimed first place with the thought, what's Kyle going to think?

Your partner of years, the person you loved most . . . and his boss had kissed you. If you thought them getting into an argument before would be bad, this is going to be catastrophic. You need to tell him what happened.

But.

But it might've been an accident. John was definitely aiming for your cheek before he moved—the adjustment skewing his trajectory. Maybe he stumbled and that was the only way to keep from falling. There were people all around, someone could have bumped into him, causing him to need to hold onto you so he didn't embarrass himself.

You were grasping at straws and you knew it but it was—technically—a possiblity so was it truly worth upsetting Kyle about it?

He would be so angry and so hurt, possibly at both you and John with how emotions sometimes work. Did you want to open that can of worms when there was a chance—however slim—that it was an accident?

What kind of person did it make you if you said no?

You blinked at your reflection, leaning down on the counter with a conflicted expression before resolve began to peek through.

No, you weren't going to tell Kyle . . . yet.

You were going to wait. You were going to wait and see how John acted the rest of the night. If he tried to push boundaries or if he, god forbid, tried to kiss you again, then you'd tell Kyle as soon as you got home. You would lay it all out for him from the beginning to the end and let him deal with it.

But if John behaved appropriately, if he didn't try to touch or kiss you, then you would assume it was an accident.

It wasn't perfect but it was a plan. How John acted would determine what you told Kyle. It was out of your hands now, you were just an observer. The relief at coming to a decision washed through you, causing the trembling to begin again before you clenched your hands tightly and took a deep breath.

You could do this—act like nothing is wrong because nothing is wrong. You're going to leave the bathroom, get a drink, and mingle for a bit until John came to find you.

With one final look in the mirror to see the determination pointed back at you, you turned to head back to the party.

///

It was late by the time you got home and you were exhausted. Your feet ached, you had a headache brewing behind your eyes and you were starving. Why had you done this again?

Before you could make it passed the entryway Kyle was coming into view, called by the click of the door closing. His face lighting up at seeing you home.

"There's my best girl, how did your night go darling?" he smiles as he comes over for a hug, wrapping his arms tightly around you, squeezing firmly.

You take a steadying breath, leaning into him for a moment, borrowing his strength. The whole ride home you had second guessed your bathroom decision, running through the pros and cons repeatedly. And now it was time.

How was tonight?

"It was great love. I had a good time," you pulled back to smile at him, hoping your gaze reflected nothing but honesty.

///

Next || Story Repository

[companionjones]

I Swear

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

Fandom: The Hunger Games

Summary: You’re a new victor of the Hunger Games, and you’ve found out what desirable victors are forced to do after the games. A previous victor visits you and assures you that you’re not alone.

Warnings: Many vague references to forced prostitution

*******

    “I can’t believe you beat me.”

    You had been sitting up in bed with your knees pulled up to your chest when you heard a voice from the doorway. “What?” your voice was scratchy from crying.

    He kept talking. “And only a year after me, too. It’s kind of insulting.”

    Upon a further observation, you recognised the boy talking to you as the Victor of the last year’s Hunger Games. The youngest Victor before you. “You’re Finnick Odair.”

    He smiled, “In the flesh. Can I come in?”

    You weren’t used to someone asking your permission for something. You answered after a moment. “Yeah?”

    “Great.” He stepped into the room. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/n L/n. I saw you in the games. I’m sorry.”

    “Sorry?” That was another word you weren’t used to hearing.

    Finnick nodded. “I’m sorry for it all. The Reaping, the Games, what they’re making you do now...”

    You huddled into yourself. “How do you know about that?”

    “Isn’t it obvious?” he smiled, but you could see from his eyes what he was really feeling. “They’re making me do the same thing.”

    Your heart broke as your remembered what you had to do earlier that night. You started to cry.

    Finnick came across the room and sat down on your bed. He didn’t touch you.

    “I thought this would be over after the games, but this--this is our life now.”

    He apologized again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

    “You’ve had to do this for a year already.” You realized. “We’re just kids.”

    “Can I hug you?” he suddenly asked.

    It occurred to you why consent was so important to him. You nodded.

    Finnick wrapped you in his arms, and you cried.

    You felt your shoulder get wet as well from Finnick letting a few tears slip out.

    “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked, not wanting to be alone.

    Finnick nodded. “Of course. I can sleep on the other side of the bed, if you want, and not touch you.”

    Even the hug was becoming too much physical contact for you after what you were forced to do earlier. “Thank you.” You broke from the hug and dried your eyes. “Thank you so much for this. Why are you being so nice?” you wondered.

    He shrugged. “Because no one was there for me.” He crawled to the other side of the bed.

    “Well, I swear to be there for you too, okay?”

    Finnick chuckled, “Okay,” as he got under the covers. Once he was settled, he looked at you to see that you were holding your pinkie out to him.

    “Swear that we’ll always be there for each other?” you offered.

    Finnick smiled as he hooked your pinkie in his. “I swear.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Finnick & the Princess

Note 1: Voters wanted this series to be fem!reader, so here she is. But I'm going to try to keep her as neutral as possible in other ways. Note 2: Also I'll be using Princess in place of y/n Note 3: Because we don't know exactly how Volunteering works in Career Districts other than "it's more complicated" I just decided to make up my own hc. In Career Districts after people stop volunteering the escort goes through a process of talking with each volunteer and then picks the one they think will be more entertaining for the Capitol. Pairings: Finnick Odair x fem!Reader Warning(s): Canon typical content - Violence, death, human trafficking, blackmail. Also parental neglect & emotional abuse.

Princess volunteered at the reapings of the 68th Hunger Games, not because she actually wanted to but because her parents had made it clear that if she didn't volunteer, be selected for, and win the Games before she aged out, she would be disowned.

So for years she'd been constructing a persona she knew would not only get her selected for the Games but would get her at least a few sponsors.

She spoke at a higher pitch than usual, she giggled and hummed and frolicked. And the Capitol ate it up. She only ever dropped the facade when she was completely alone with her mentors. Finnick liked to dip back and forth between complimenting her acting skills and teasing her for the things she did and said in her false persona. Not even her District partner saw her true personality, so he fell for the act as well.

As much as the Capitol citizens were enthralled with the District 4 girl, no one expected her to actually be skilled. She didn't engage in any combative skill in training, she skimmed over the survival skills and she didn't speak with the other Careers. Between her facade and her ignoring them, the Career Pack excluded her and only took in the boy from her District.

Then came the training scores. And everyone was shocked when Princess got a 10. What could she possibly have done to land a score that high? Many speculated that the Gamemakers had merely pitied her, or were so mesmerized by her that they accidentally added a 0 after her real score.

In her interview with Caesar Flickerman, Princess batted her eyes, and sounded naively optimistic.

During the countdown for the Bloodbath, everyone was betting Princess would be dead before the day's end. Then the gong sounded and Princess was off before anyone else could react. It was clear she was by far the fastest of this year's tributes. By the time the District 2 female (Lilith Creswick) and District 1 male (Riesling Munza) caught up to Princess, she'd grabbed a decent amount of supplies including 2 bags which she had shouldered, and a sword.

In what seemed like a single flowing motion, Princess slipped around Lilith, raised her sword arm, and sliced open Riesling's throat. She then proceeded to practically twirl past other tributes, snatching up a wicker basket full of food on her way and ran off.

Everyone was in shock from the Capitol elite, to the other tributes, even Finnick and Mags who were privy to the fact that Princess was putting on a fake persona. The only people who weren't surprised were those present for her private session with the Gamemakers.

Princess continued to surprise during her games, presenting a persona of a naive but mesmerizing girl one moment and in the next efficiently killing or otherwise causing the death of other tributes. One thing became clear to everyone Princess had a sharp mind.

After her win, Princess was able to drop her facade whenever she was home in District 4 and cameras weren't on her. Otherwise, she kept up her whimsical act.

Unfortunately, this persona didn't save her from President Snow threatening her family to force her into prostitution. If anything it increased demand to have her. Too many elite pricks manifested or discovered a corruption kink for Princess.

Princess' only reprieve from her trauma was Finnick. They couldn't make their quickly developing relationship public but that was fine with the both of them. It made their relationship feel more real because it was just for them and not for the Capitol.