#shelby coded humour

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

Oneshots Drabbles

Here are all my oneshots drabbles and headcannons. you can find my long ongoing chaptered fics here on my Chaptered Stories Masterlist. and you can find my shorter series list here Ficlet masterlist

Disclaimer and my stance on RPF

Geeking Out (Henry Cavill X Reader/Fluff)

Babies New Specs  (Henry Cavill X Little Reader-Fluff)

The Shoe Policy (Henry Cavill X Reader-Domestic)

Grand Theft Auto(Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Domestic)

Dress Codes, Nooky And Cock Blocks (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Domestic/Fluff/🥵)

Kal And Fatherhood (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff)

A Rainy day (Henry Cavill x Reader- Angst/Fluff/🥵)

Lemme See!! (Henry Cavill x Pierced/Tattooed Reader-Fluff)

Mummy’s Jealous Boy (Henry Cavill X Wife!Reader- Fluff, angst)

Pooh Bear (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Fluff)

Your Man In Action (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Another Birthday Surprise (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff slight Angst)

A Clumsy Nugget (Henry Cavill X Little!Reader- Fluff)

Beanie Baby (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Implied Smut,Fluff,Domestic)

Baby Snuggles… Drink and wet? (Henry Cavill X Reader/CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!/Fluff/Humour)

Forever Home (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

The Date (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Deeper Then The Pink Tax (Henry Cavill X Reader- Angst/ Fluff/ Difficult subjects)

Their Alright… For A Boomer (Henry Cavill X BustyReader- Fluff, Suggestive)

Love Is Blind (Henry Cavill X Shelby!Reader- Peaky Blinders AU- Angslt,Fluff)

Your Perfect (Henry Cavill X Reader- ABO,Fluff, Angst)

The Mortals Claiming (Hades!Henry X Reader- god AU, Angst, Smut)

Fledgling (Vampire!Henry X Reader)

The Rubber Glove Experience (Henry X Nurse!Reader)

Panic In The Playroom (Daddy!Henry x Little!Reader)

The Assistants Assistance (Henry X Reader)

The Talc Slip Up (Henry X Reader/Humour/Fluff) 

Chubby Rodent (Henry X Reader/Fluff)

Bubbles (Daddy!Henry X Little!Reader/Fluff/Humour)

Everything Works (Henry X Reader/Fluff/Humour)

Bring It On Bitch (Clark Kent X Reader-Fluff)

Ace In The Hole (Diana Prince X Teen Reader-Fluff?)

FUCK OFF! (Bruce Wayne X Reader-Domestic/Fluff)

A Soft Bunny~ (Clark Kent X Reader -🥵/PetPlay)

Mounting Mistakes  (Clark Kent X Reader- 🥵/ABO)

The Ruined Cape (Clark Kent X Bratty Little Reader-Spanking)

L-Latex?!(Clark Kent X  Mistress/Domme Reader-Humour/Fluff/Domestic )  

We Didn’t Make It To My Birthday (Alpha!Clark Kent X Younger Omega Reader- A/B/O, 🥵)    

Clark The God Of Munch (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Lacking (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Numb (Clark Kent X Daughter Reader- Angst/ Mental Health Issues)

A Breeding Bunny (Dark!Clark X Reader-🥵Dark Fic)

I Cant Feel My Legs (Dark!Clark X Reader/ A/B/O 🥵)

Super-Hubby Proof (Clark X Reader/ BDSM/ Humor/🥵)

(Taming A Pa-Bear(Platonic!Geralt X Reader/Fluff/Angst?Homour)

The Witcher’s Missus (Geralt X Reader/Angst/🥵)

Nanma? (Geralt x Mage!reader/ Jaskier X Reader Platonic/fluff/crackfic/suggestive)

Hybrid Oil (Geralt X Reader/ suggestive/ Angry Geralt)

Mine (ALpha!Geralt X Omega!Reader/ angry Geralt/ABO)

A Family (platonic Geralt X Reader/ Angst/Spanking/Fluff)

Your Best Idea (Napoleon Solo x Wife Reader-Fluff/Domestic)

My Phone Died…Sorry?(Walter X Reader/Fluff/Angst/Immplied smut)

A Little Crime Spree (Papa!Sherlock X Little Reader- Spanking)

His Grace’s Protection (Charles Brandon X Reader- Fluff/Angst)

They Hung Up (August Walker X Little!Reader- Fluff)

She Calls Me Daddy 🥵(August Walker X Reader Daddy Kink-Smut Exhibitionism)

Use The Zipties (Walter Marshal x Drunk!Reader)

Manny (Sy x Drunk!Reader)

The Graves Case (Sherlock X Reader)

OCD Christmas (Walter X Reader/ Fluff)

Dick Christmas (August X Reader/ cavillmas challenge/ smut)🥵

Finish What You Stared (Walter X Reader/ Foot Kink/ Suggestive/Fluff)

My Little Trinket (Dark!Charles X Reader/dark fic)

Math?!(Daddy!August X Brat!Reader/DDLG)

A Lil’Lady (Mob Boss Sy X Reader/ fluff)

Hitman Daddy Dom (Daddy!August X Little!reader/DDLG/Fluff)

Adoption Day (Daddy!Henry X Little!Reader/ DDLG/Fluff/Angst)

Please Do Daddy (Daddy!Walter X Subby!Reader/ daddy kink/ sugestive)

A Kept Woman (August X Reader/ dark themes/kidnap)

Princess (Sy X Reader/ Fluff/Humour)

Soft!Bdsm Relationship Dom!Henry Sub!Nurse

Wearing Plugs on a date Dom!Henry 🥵

Being A Jealous Little At A Party Daddy!Henry

Scolded By Another Daddy In Front Of Daddy!Henry

Tangled In Knots DDLG

When Your Knee Is Injured DDLG

A Maintenance Spanking DDLG

Caught Pigging Out DDLG

An Inner Ear Infection DDLG

Helping With Hate DDLG

Pms and Headache remedies DDLG🥵

Insomnia /Trouble Waking In The Morning DDLG

Caught Listening To Bratty Songs DDLG

Getting Scared Watching MI6 DDLG

Cutting Your Hair DDLG

Henry Answers A Zoom Call With Pretty Hair DDLG

Story time Wisdom teeth DDLG

Tooth Fairy Haggle DDLG

The accident DDLG

Sherbert and baths DDLG

The Icecream Van DDLG

Slapping Daddies Hand DDLG

Superman’s Dishcloth

Couples Race

Sugar haul DDLG 

Yeah Daddy DDLG

Baby Hustle

A Headcannon Crack Series- Geralt see’s an opportunity to add to his family and finally have something both he and Yennefer have always wanted. A baby, now they just had to figure out how to look after it.

The Exchange / / Got Milk? / / Your Turn / /Hmm…Hm? / /Lil’Bleater

Misc

Vesemir and Geralt bath sharing M/F/M

Playing With August’s Knives DDLG

The Deal (Clark X Reader X August)🥵 / / Pt 2  / / Pt3🥵?

Malicious Compliance (Sherlock X Reader)

Coming Home Drunk (August X Drunk!Reader)

April Fools! (Sy X Reader) slight smut 🥵

Mocki (Sy X Reader)

Hair Pulling  101 Dom!Henry

A Latte (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

Swallow-Geralt Of Rivia

Ducky- Humphrey Mummy!Domme

The Making Of Sy’s Mini Me- Sy Smut

Walter Told You Not To Touch! Walter implied smut?

“Pull out” “No”-Sy Smut

Little Office Bunny- August implied smut

Jewel In The Crown August Walker

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Oneshot Masterlist

 Here are all my oneshots drabbles and headcannons. you can find my long ongoing chaptered fics here on my Chaptered Stories Masterlist. and you can find my shorter series list here Ficlet masterlist

Disclaimer and my stance on RPF

Geeking Out (Henry Cavill X Reader/Fluff)

Babies New Specs  (Henry Cavill X Little Reader-Fluff)

The Shoe Policy (Henry Cavill X Reader-Domestic)

Grand Theft Auto(Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Domestic)

Dress Codes, Nooky And Cock Blocks (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Domestic/Fluff/🥵)

Kal And Fatherhood (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff)

A Rainy day (Henry Cavill x Reader- Angst/Fluff/🥵)

Lemme See!! (Henry Cavill x Pierced/Tattooed Reader-Fluff)

Mummy’s Jealous Boy (Henry Cavill X Wife!Reader- Fluff, angst)

Pooh Bear (Henry Cavill+ Kal X Reader- Fluff)

Your Man In Action (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Another Birthday Surprise (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Fluff slight Angst)

A Clumsy Nugget (Henry Cavill X Little!Reader- Fluff)

Beanie Baby (Henry Cavill+Kal X Reader-Implied Smut,Fluff,Domestic)

Baby Snuggles… Drink and wet? (Henry Cavill X Reader/CHRISTMAS SPECIAL!/Fluff/Humour)

Forever Home (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

The Date (Henry Cavill X Reader-Fluff)

Deeper Then The Pink Tax (Henry Cavill X Reader- Angst/ Fluff/ Difficult subjects)

Their Alright… For A Boomer (Henry Cavill X BustyReader- Fluff, Suggestive)

Love Is Blind (Henry Cavill X Shelby!Reader- Peaky Blinders AU- Angslt,Fluff)

Your Perfect (Henry Cavill X Reader- ABO,Fluff, Angst)

The Mortals Claiming (Hades!Henry X Reader- god AU, Angst, Smut)

Fledgling (Vampire!Henry X Reader)

Bring It On Bitch (Clark Kent X Reader-Fluff)

Ace In The Hole (Diana Prince X Teen Reader-Fluff?)

FUCK OFF! (Bruce Wayne X Reader-Domestic/Fluff)

A Soft Bunny~ (Clark Kent X Reader -🥵/PetPlay)

Mounting Mistakes  (Clark Kent X Reader- 🥵/ABO)

The Ruined Cape (Clark Kent X Bratty Little Reader-Spanking)

L-Latex?!(Clark Kent X  Mistress/Domme Reader-Humour/Fluff/Domestic )  

We Didn’t Make It To My Birthday (Alpha!Clark Kent X Younger Omega Reader- A/B/O, 🥵)    

Clark The God Of Munch (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Lacking (Clark Kent X Reader-🥵)

Numb (Clark Kent X Daughter Reader- Angst/ Mental Health Issues)

A Breeding Bunny (Dark!Clark X Reader-🥵Dark Fic)

I Cant Feel My Legs (Dark!Clark X Reader/ A/B/O 🥵)

Super-Hubby Proof  (Clark X Reader/ BDSM/ Humor/🥵)

 (Taming A Pa-Bear(Platonic!Geralt X Reader/Fluff/Angst?Homour)

The Witcher’s Missus (Geralt X Reader/Angst/🥵)

Nanma? (Geralt x Mage!reader/ Jaskier X Reader Platonic/fluff/crackfic/suggestive)

Hybrid Oil (Geralt X Reader/ suggestive/ Angry Geralt)

Your Best Idea (Napoleon Solo x Wife Reader-Fluff/Domestic)

My Phone Died…Sorry?(Walter X Reader/Fluff/Angst/Immplied smut)

A Little Crime Spree (Papa!Sherlock X Little Reader- Spanking)

His Grace’s Protection (Charles Brandon X Reader- Fluff/Angst)

They Hung Up (August Walker X Little!Reader- Fluff)

She Calls Me Daddy 🥵(August Walker X Reader Daddy Kink-Smut Exhibitionism)

Soft!Bdsm Relationship Dom!Henry Sub!Nurse

Wearing Plugs on a date Dom!Henry 🥵

Being A Jealous Little At A Party Daddy!Henry

Scolded By Another Daddy In Front Of Daddy!Henry

Tangled In Knots DDLG

When Your Knee Is Injured DDLG

A Maintenance Spanking DDLG

Caught Pigging Out DDLG

An Inner Ear Infection DDLG

Helping With Hate DDLG

Pms and Headache remedies DDLG🥵

Insomnia /Trouble Waking In The Morning DDLG

Caught Listening To Bratty Songs DDLG

Getting Scared Watching MI6 DDLG

Cutting Your Hair DDLG

Henry Answers A Zoom Call With Pretty Hair DDLG

Story time Wisdom teeth DDLG

Tooth Fairy Haggle DDLG

The accident DDLG

Sherbert and baths DDLG

The Icecream Van DDLG

Slapping Daddies Hand DDLG

Superman’s Dishcloth 

Couples Race

Baby Hustle

A Headcannon Crack Series- Geralt see’s an opportunity to add to his family and finally have something both he and Yennefer have always wanted. A baby, now they just had to figure out how to look after it.

The Exchange / / Got Milk? / / Your Turn / /Hmm…Hm? / /Lil’Bleater

Misc

Vesemir and Geralt bath sharing M/F/M

Playing With August’s Knives DDLG

The Deal (Clark X Reader X August)🥵 / /  Pt 2  / / Pt3🥵?

Malicious Compliance (Sherlock X Reader)

Coming Home Drunk (August X Drunk!Reader)

April Fools! (Sy X Reader) slight smut 🥵

Mocki (Sy X Reader)

Hair Pulling  101 Dom!Henry

A Latte (Henry Cavill X Reader- Fluff)

Swallow-Geralt Of Rivia

Ducky- Humphrey Mummy!Domme

The Making Of Sy’s Mini Me- Sy Smut

Walter Told You Not To Touch! Walter implied smut?

“Pull out” “No”-Sy Smut

Little Office Bunny- August implied smut

Jewel In The Crown August Walker

[runnning-outof-time]

hey! so i've been reading a fair share of tommy x reader fics and i watched the last episode and it had me thinking of something. Since i really have nowhere to post this and i'm not so sure i should maybe make a blog for my fics, i decided to send you the little thing i wrote so you can share, if it isn't that big a bother! i'd like to know if it's any good, really :D

anyways. here goes:

Of course, there's the part where you're on your knees, carpet chaffing against dark tights, looking up into the shadow where his face is, the glint of his eyes giving away where his attention lies (you), where his mind is wandering—your figure,— and what he wants to see.

So he makes sure to hold your face, not too strong when he does it though not too much like a caress either; because that, too, is out of bounds as so many things are won't to be in this arrangement. He drags his thumb past your lips, just beneath where your chin dips into a slope, and if you open your mouth of your own accord it's not a shame here, not at all. You can't help it either, so there it is.

See, the thing is that the last lights left are flickering on your bedside, a lavender candle that stains everything with its shade of innocence; and really, your position where your knees bend is only incidental.

You did mean to pray— for him, even.

Say, wouldn't that be good if anybody saved a prayer or two for Thomas Shelby?

He dips his weight back into your bed, used to moving in the dark so that when it creaks it doesn't sound like such a confession to the dark, and then his face is that much closer and you can see it, now, the hollow of his cheekbones and where it points into the slant line of his nose, his piercing eyes, his hair brushed forward already working its rebellion under the guise of curls.

His green scarf lulls in front of your chest, his thighs surrounding your arms. A bolder woman would press her hands against them, feeling the thick ropes of musculature, and hoist herself up nearer, cut the distance and half, and then more, till there's none.

"You came," you whisper, tracing your fingertips around the edge of his scarf.

"I said I would," he drawls, "Man of my word, aren't I?"

It's not a complaint and he knows it, "Man of few words, more like."

"Just enough." there's a chuckle in smile, a hidden humour in the dark, a door to open that you cannot see just yet. He leans forward, towards his knees, and his cologne is all that surrounds you. "You don't need them, anyhow."

You hum— a question, an acquiescence, a response of some kind or another. "You know just what to do, don't you?" and there's that thumb again, running down your cheek to tease your lip just so, your heart picking up the pace.

His eyes fall from yours to your lips and he is eager, just as you are. He is waiting for your answer, your code, your permission so he may do what he has been waiting for.

His secret is that he wants you to want it, to want him, more than he ought.

You don't know how to hide the fact that you do, even though you desperately should.

Your mouth is wet when you tug the scarf down, lifting your thighs to meet him half way, your words a whisper when you say: "Yes, sir."

Then you close the distance, ditching the soft fabric for that of his pants, where your splayed hands grasp him firm and your gasp has not a drop of surprise in it, not at all.

This was good! Like REALLY good. I was honestly kind of bummed when it was over, so I guess you’re gonna have to make a blog to post your lovely ideas on haha!

If you’re interested, you can definitely message me privately if you want any tips/want me to give you feedback on your stories.

Thanks so much for choosing me to be the first person to share your lovely writing with! I know how tough/stressful it can be to share your ‘brain babies’ with the world haha ☺️💕

[tommyplum]

- margarita’s no good without salt | tommy/alfie, modern au for @boundinshallows’ sholomons prompt fest 2019

After working themselves up into a lather over the course of texting through a workday, Alfie and Tommy skive off early to get down to the real business.

notes: written by both john and maggie, for our liquorverse canon. sexual content cw

Tommy piles into the car with two bottles of lime margarita clanking in the brightly-coloured knitwork side-satchel he insists on toting around, that he'd nicked off an old girlfriend who ran a kiosk at uni and had piles of unsold merchandise in her flat at all times. "Backseat with that thing," Alfie barks immediately, because that bag sets his teeth on edge.

Tommy obliges without protest, slinging it off and dropping it on the floor behind the driver's seat before he buckles himself up and then swivels bodily in his own seat as Alfie pulls back out onto the road. "Your sexting game needs help," Tommy remarks, which Alfie thinks is rich coming from the man who attempted to phonetically replicate the way he chokes on cock. He doesn't say anything about that, though, a paragon of forbearance, he, and instead reaches over to pluck Tommy's specs from his face.

"You're not driving," Alfie says, "don't veil those pretty blue eyes."

Tommy makes that partly scoffing, partly turned-on huffing sound in the front of his throat and doesn't stop Alfie, but takes the glasses from him and tosses them onto the dash where they click against the windshield. "Pull in at the side here," Tommy says, gesturing vaguely at the kerb. "What?" Alfie squints, "why? Where's it?"

"Here, here," Tommy says more urgently -- not much help -- and Alfie puts on his signal as a token two-second long gesture before steering the car to the side of the road, on a wide soft gravel shoulder abutting the empty car park yawning in front of some deserted shop. "You feeling peckish, love?" Alfie asks, barely able to make out that the shop boasts a selection of gourmet cheesecake.

"Yeah," Tommy says, and pops his chair back, slithering halfway off it to the floor so he can turn and gnaw at Alfie's knee. His hands push their way up Alfie's leg, to his flies, and Alfie grunts as blood immediately makes its way more southerly for the winter.

"Ah," Alfie murmurs, slipping his fingers into Tommy's hair. Some of the dark silky strands of it catch on his rings and Tommy makes a sound as Alfie tightens his hand into a fist; he likes that, open mouth panting warm damp circles through the thigh of Alfie's jeans. "Always on your knees for me, that was what you said, wasn't it? No matter what we're doing--"

"I'm always on my knees. Congratulations, Alfie." Tommy's fingers pluck at the button, the zipper, Alfie's pants, the thickening heft of his cock. "You remember conversations we had twenty minutes ago. Still razor-sharp, old boy."

"And you're still a year older than I am, unless you've forgotten in your dotage."

"So many other more important things to wrap my head round," Tommy murmurs, flashing a hot look up at Alfie before he purses his lips and kisses the newly-exposed head of Alfie's cock, pouting little mashes from those lips before Tommy introduces his tongue to the situation and slurps. The sound is loud in the car even with the rush of traffic so near by, and Alfie wraps his free hand over the steering wheel and groans, cocking one hip to give Tommy better access.

But Tommy doesn't want that. He wants to make it hard on himself, wants to take the awkward position for all it's worth, and he angles his shoulder against the bottom of the wheel and curls the fingers of his free hand into the open waistband of Alfie's jeans, hanging on there, fingernails scraping slightly into Alfie's skin. He sucks at the meaty head of Alfie's cock, like he can't get enough of the taste of him, already-austere cheeks hollowing as he starts to bob rhythmically up and down. Moaning as the bittersalt taste hits the pockets of his mouth behind his molars, making thin thirsty water well up and slick the passage of Alfie's prick.

Alfie gives an answering moan, the hand in Tommy's hair getting even more knotted before loosening so he can curve the heel of his hand over the rounded cup of Tommy's ear. "That's it, pet," Alfie croons, encouraging, his arse sinking a little lower in his seat so his thighs can fall wider apart. "Get your mouth on me, right down to the hilt. I’d best take advantage of that discount margarita while it lasts, hadn’t I?"

Another look from Tommy's lensless eyes -- blue like cornflowers in milk, where was that from? Who'd written that? Had they known Tommy Shelby too? -- and Tommy's glugging as he sinks down, further down, all the way down. Nothing to see now but the black-crow gloss of his rumpled hair, the ellipses of his clumpy eyelashes, the pale stroke of his nose, the faint pink flush winging his cheekbones. Individual features in steep perspective and Alfie slides down more. And more again. White-knuckled on the wheel and open-palmed at the side of Tommy's head, guiding, taking, caressing.

“Fucking hell…” Alfie breathes, just gaping down at him, rocking his hips up as best he can in spite of their awkward angle, “...you little beauty…” He tilts his head back and groans. “Raspberry sour and tea, was it? Bloody magical elixir, to get you so hungry for me… But where’s my noise, sweetie? Let me hear it, yeah?”

Tommy's fingertips move against Alfie's hip, up, down, the slightly ragged nail of his middle finger catching on skin as he lets his jaw go slacker so Alfie's cock can push deep. Skidding along the roof of Tommy's hot mouth to choke him, and that noise Alfie wants tumbles obligingly out. A glug of carnivorous satisfaction -- with Alfie for being the object of desire, with himself for his own performance -- hoarse and high, and Tommy already knows his voice will be ruined after this when he's sat back in his seat with his belt on and they're headed to Alfie's. The thought brings him a vicious pleasure and he gags himself on Alfie's cock some more, letting the flared head sink as deep as he can manage before he pulls off with a wet cough, bottom lip slick and shining.

"Don't need fucking booze to get me hungry for you, Alfie," Tommy says in a rasping purr, stroking Alfie's thick length, licking his palm and then returning it to its work. "Don't need anything. To want what's mine."

“All yours, isn’t it, pet?” Alfie rumbles, impatiently lifting his hips again, wanting that mouth back where it belongs, “How could anybody else ever compete, eh?”

"Compete with me, you mean?" Tommy lets his eyelashes stutter a few times, cheeky Morse code, agreeing, "There's nobody like me you've ever had, admit it," before plunging his mouth down over Alfie's cock again. He slaps his open palm against Alfie's side, pressing in and rubbing at him, before pulling off one last time and getting back into his seat, starting to buckle up with his mouth lewdly wet and slightly open. Tommy reaches for his discarded spectacles, sliding them onto his face and quickly riffling his hair back into place with his still-damp hand.

"Get me home," he directs, calmly, gesturing to the road, "and you can cum anywhere you want on me. Or in me, if that's what you'd like." Tommy thumbs the corner of his top lip, making exactly nothing more respectable. "And then I'll keep your cock warm for the rest of the night. With my mouth, Alfie, or my hands, or my arse. Keep you nice and close. All mine."

“There’s no one like you in the fucking world,” Alfie grits out, pushing up into the perfect wet heat of Tommy’s lovely mouth, rolling his hips and finally beginning to really let himself go, to accept that this is happening, here and now; only to be shown a moment later - barely a moment later - that it isn’t. That Tommy, contrary fucking bastard that he is, has changed his little hornet’s nest of a mind again, and prefers to amuse himself pulling Alfie’s strings. Which, unfortunately, he’s rather good at - and Alfie groans in frustration as Tommy’s glasses are settled back into place and his mop of dark hair is tidied, Alfie’s eyes hot and narrowed. “You,” he says, his hard cock still exposed and straining to get back into Tommy’s mouth as Tommy demands to be taken home, “-are an eldritch fucking monster, you are. You have got to be fucking joking.”

He says this, knowing that Tommy is doing nothing of the kind, and lets out a huff of frustration, hurriedly and haphazardly tucking himself away again, before starting the car once more, grumbling non-stop as he pulls back out into the street and glancing over to meet Tommy’s big blue eyes. “Think this is funny, do you?” Alfie grouses, “You’re flaming certifiable.”

"Not my fault you've got no sense of humour," Tommy has the nerve to say, when both of them and everybody they know would full well waste no time in pointing out Alfie as the one who's actually funny, and what's more the one who actually is good-humoured. But Tommy's fully eaten the canary, and he primly pinches his fingers at the corners of his mouth to finally, properly, swipe away the wetness there. "And a little forebearance is good for you, Alfie. Not like you won't get what's coming to you, soon enough."

Tommy gazes at his boyfriend, his partner, his man, and since Alfie's watching the road and a gaggle of pedestrians glued to their phones as they slowly navigate a zebra crossing, Tommy's free to let his stare soften, affectionate, the rolling hunger of desire settling down to something more sweet and familiar. He's fucking darling, is his Alfie. And Tommy knows it. It's just not in his nature to let on.

Alfie’s eyes widen and he sputters for a moment, then he gives up, turning his eyes back to the road muttering about forebearance and smugness and pretty faces - only to overcorrect sharply when he turns the corner and Tommy so very casually says:

"I do love you, you know." Despite all of his inclination towards not being overly demonstrative, Tommy says it, and then immediately he busies himself cleaning his glasses. He'd feel bad about his behaviour -- he does, now and again, he might be an eldritch fucking monster but he's not entirely heartless -- but when it comes down to it? Tommy leaves it to trust. That Alfie knows this, and is capable of puzzling out the cipher of Tommy Shelby's love language. Which, tonight, is going to be as many helpings of Alfie's cock as Tommy can manage.

It’s not unheard of for Tommy to make this sort of declaration - downplayed though it may be - but still, it’s not an everyday occurrence either, and when Alfie looks back at his boyfriend, there’s something in his eyes; a softness and a shine of pride, that betrays how much this little throwaway mention really means to him. Though Alfie, to his credit, knows his cat well enough to do some downplaying of his own.

“Too bloody right, you do,” he says with a cheeky grin, changing lanes again and giving his beard a stroke with one hand, “I’m the best thing ever happened to you and everyone knows it.”

"Ada's been nattering at you, I see, and you've been daft enough to believe her." The usual hint of sardonic acid is back in Tommy's voice now, underlying its unruffled cadence, as he finishes with his specs and slides them back on his face and clears his throat unnecessarily. "Turn here." As if Alfie doesn't know the way to his own house. But Tommy'd been half-hard in his trousers, and being pedantic helps with preventing his mind and libido from getting away from him before he has a chance to take Alfie inside and really, truly, lavishly go to town on him.

At least one blow job, one finished, and then they'll have a bite to eat, maybe. Then some margarita. Then a slow, deliciously tortuous evening of telly and edging before Tommy lets Alfie fuck him.

“Your Ada’s a wise woman,” Alfie says seriously, though his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth twitching as Tommy needlessly directs him home. He turns the car when he’s told to and then pulls up in front of the house; shifting the motor into park, and Tommy licks his lips, tasting Alfie there, and turns an enigmatic smile on his lover.

"All right to make the walk to the front door, love?" Tommy asks, exaggeratedly solicitous, and reaches over to give Alfie's prick a stroke. "Or do you need to get the edge off right here parked in front of your place where all the neighbours can see?"

Alfie makes a low amused noise in the back of his throat when Tommy’s hand finds its way back between his legs for another delicious moment of torment. “I think I’ll survive,” he says, though the bulge in his trousers is anything but decent, “Mind you don’t forget that bag of yours.” Alfie gets out of the car and heads for the door, cock throbbing, calling back, “After all, if it’s bad taste we’re protecting the neighbours from, then surely that thing can’t be left behind.”

Tommy's in too good a mood to bother protesting about his bag (as it was free, he has no particular loyalty to it other than that), and he collects it, clanking once more, before listing up against Alfie at the door to grope at him and nip at an earlobe. "Your neighbours are accustomed to bad taste already, ay?" Tommy purrs, his teasing at this point having smoothed and mellowed out from arousal and tipsiness. "Listening to your music and looking at the sorts of jerseys you fancy."

“Oi,” Alfie protests, playing at being affronted even as he reaches down to return Tommy’s grope as the door swings open, “-listen, sweetie, you’ve not got a leg to stand on when it comes to music what with those dirges you’re so fond of, eh?”

Tommy snorts, turning his attention to the sounds of claws on the floor as Cyril bounds toward them, eager for attention. "Where's my boy though -- Cyril! Here, boy, it's Tom, come on then!"

He elbows past Alfie to bend over and rub both hands roughly against Cyril's ears, the dog giving one of his big resounding barks in greeting. "Good boy!" Tommy responds in kind, almost at a shout. "I'm going to be swallowing your dad's prick in a moment, so best get your bids for petting in right now before we banish you!"

Alfie gets properly through the door, taking a moment to enjoy the mutual affection of his cat for his dog before clapping his hands over Cyril’s ears as though protecting a child from scandal. “Language,” he chides Tommy with a smirk, then steps inside, shutting the door behind them, “You’ll scar him for life, talking like that.”

Alfie takes over petting duties for the moment, cheerfully roughhousing and cuddling with their large ‘child’. “Won’t he?” he asks the dog with a grin. “Yes, he will.”

"If he's made it this far in being ours without us scarring him," Tommy says with zero remorse as he stoops to unlace his shoes, "then hearing me say aloud what he already knows won't hurt him."

Cyril looks up at Alfie with adoration, then barrels back into Tommy for a larger helping of affection, Tommy’s margarita bottles barely escaping with their lives as he's nearly bowled over by their dog. "All right, boy, all right," Tommy laughs, staying down on the ground for another couple of minutes as Alfie gets his own shoes and jacket sorted. "Here, Alfie, take the bag before muggins here cracks the margarita bottles open prematurely."

He croons at Cyril, not in English, pleased as always at how well their multilingual dog understands Tommy's delving into Romani, and slaps and rubs Cyril's bulky scruff, thinking as he's done many times how the dog resembles its owner. Then Tommy raises his gaze towards Alfie with a slow, wicked smile; he doesn't say anything, not in so many words, but he is, after all, on his knees. Or close enough.

Alfie reaches for Tommy’s bag over Cyril’s head, smiling a bit more softly than before at the murmur of Romani and Cyril’s utter lack of confusion - accustomed as their dog is to being a good boy in at least five different languages - then notices the look in Tommy’s eyes and his lover’s position on the floor, and he gives a quick whistle to get Cyril’s attention. Which he gets almost immediately (Cyril is a very good boy, after all). “Alright,” Alfie says, “Off you go.” He points in the direction of the sitting room and Cyril runs off to his toys and his bed, leaving Tommy and Alfie alone again; and Alfie sets the margarita down on a nearby table; his hands, once free, popping the button on his jeans and sliding down the zip. He wastes no time in taking his cock out, stroking himself slowly, waiting for Tommy to close the distance between them.

"Ahhhh," Tommy keeps on crooning, "there's my boy." He leaves his glasses for this round, taking a couple of long knee-strides forward until he's up flush against Alfie, waggling his angular shoulders so they bump against Alfie's legs, one-two, and then he grasps the base of Alfie's still-so-warm cock and wraps his lips around the length of him again.

And this time, Tommy doesn't bother with teasing or drawing it out. He throttles Alfie's dick with his mouth, glugging on the thickness of it stoppering up his throat, letting himself make all those lovely tormented sounds that Alfie likes so much. That Tommy loves hearing too. He sucks and slurps and pulls off for only a second so he can spit, frothy saliva and precum, and slides his mouth back on and down and lets the head of Alfie's prick bulge against his cheek in showy, obscene personal pornography. Looking up, finally, over the rounded rims of his specs and the dark hair in disarray over his forehead, squeezing Alfie's balls in encouragement.

“Fucking hell,” Alfie groans, his knees feeling weak, fingers buried deep in the thickness of Tommy’s hair, “What are you trying to do, you mad little thing? Kill me?” He rocks his hips though, wanting to see it again, the rounded swell of his cockhead tucked into Tommy’s cheek - and he keeps rocking them, the hand playing with his balls warm and wonderful as it urges him on. “Wouldn’t take much now, love…” Alfie murmurs thickly, stroking Tommy’s hair back from his forehead, the undulation of his hips keeping those pretty noises coming. “Is that what you want? A bellyful of my spunk? Because you can have it, pet…” He bucks harder, shuddering as that wet slurping gets louder. “Fuck, Tommy… you should fucking see yourself…”

That is what Tommy wants. That's absolutely his goal, and he lets his eyelashes sling low when Alfie pets his hair, stroking it back with one broad warm hand, loving in its motions and smelling faintly of Cyril. Which is funny, and absurd, and absolutely one hundred percent Alfie in every way.

And so Tommy hums and bobs his head, his chin moving in a rounded sweep as he uses his tongue to bathe Alfie's cock and then suck down the soft slushy fluidness filling his mouth around the hard shaft, his own saliva flooding and flooding and dripping out the corners of his lips. He makes one long, slow noise of absolute hungry surrender, flickering his tongue along the thick vein on the underside of Alfie's cock, wanting to stroke out his orgasm. Determined to do it.

Alfie groans low in the back of his throat, and fists the hand petting Tommy’s hair into a decently firm grip, rocking his hips to fuck that wet wonderful mouth; little boy eager, but in no hurry now that Tommy’s down on his knees where he wants him and playing nicely for a change.

“God, Tommy, yeah,” he rumbles approvingly, tugging and pulling gently but insistently, his feet planted firmly, stance as wide as his jeans will allow, “Christ, that’s fucking good...”

Tommy makes a noise to indicate that yeah, he knows just how fucking good he is, and he strokes the tips of his fingers right behind Alfie's balls as he massages them in his cupped palm, closes his eyes for a while as he bobs his head in luxurious savouring motions, hooks his free hand in the lowered back of Alfie's waistband and tugs his jeans lower. Till they're past his thick muscled thighs, circuiting his knees, and Tommy leans in closer and deeper. Its task done, Tommy reaches up and splays his hand against Alfie's side, thumb making hard little orbits against his skin. Bruising out polka-dot marks of ownership as Tommy's mouth surrenders and claims all at the same time. Alfie can’t help but huff out a laugh at the smug noise Tommy makes around his prick before shuddering in pleasure at the way those fingertips tease, fighting to keep his eyes open and watch as Tommy sucks him, long and slow, working Alfie’s already loosened jeans down to catch around his knees.

Tommy’s hand on his side feels nearly as hot as the cavern of his mouth, and Alfie moans and bucks his hips harder and faster, his orgasm building quickly. “Fucking hell,” he swears, his knees turning watery, the hand in Tommy’s hair tightening its grip, “Jesus Christ, Tommy…” And then he groans, cumming hard and filling Tommy’s mouth with spunk.

“Fuck…” Alfie pants, still rolling his hips, “There’ll be no living with you now.”

That hand in his hair, pulling tiny pinpricks of fulfillment against his scalp, is like catnip as Tommy kneads Alfie's balls in encouragement and swallows with shameless glugging sounds when his boyfriend unloads. The shots of spunk hitting the back of Tommy's throat as he works his tongue furiously to keep up, heaving in breaths each time Alfie pulls back and Tommy gets the chance to inhale, and he fixes a stare on Alfie's face as he comes down from his orgasm. The way that full mouth is reddened and lax, lips pressing together hard, the soft bristles of his beard moving with the set of his chin as Tommy laps up every last drop.

And then he pulls off, triumphant and grinning open-mouthed, knowing what a fucking sight he looks. Tommy curves his palm over Alfie's hipbone, caressing, and uses the other one to fondle Alfie's spent (for now) cock. Before pressing a hot-mouthed little kiss to its naked head with a parting, see-you-later slurp before Tommy gets up off his knees and waits for Alfie to kiss him.

"I'll be wanting that supper you promised, now," Tommy murmurs, taking Alfie's shirt in both hands to give him a slight, emphatic shake. "Worked up an appetite, didn't I?"

[peakysabrina]

Dark Horse: chapter 11

Warnings: DEATH OF A MAJOR CHARACTER Y’ALL Sorry :s

Ada makes a decision about her future, and Gigi and Polly become judge, jury, and executioners. 

"To Swansea? With Karl?" Polly asked, when Ada and Gigi joined her in the living room. She wasn't about to ask what had happened, simply because it was obvious. At least, Gigi was walking, her breathing was laboured but a little lighter, and her skin was back to its normal tone, which denoted the long hours spent on a saddle. They both looked pretty happy, and Ada had this aura of satisfaction about her, like she had just cracked the code of life.

"Yes. I have decided that I'm going, and obviously Karl is coming with me" Ada stated, sticking up her chin. "Georgia thinks you'll want to come with us, and I would really like that. But we'll have to act quickly"

"How quickly?" Polly enquired, looking at the two young women, and then around the living room. "A week quickly, or...?"

"Tomorrow quickly" Ada replied, sucking in her teeth. "I'm going to start packing for me and Karl, and I suggest you do the same"

"Gigi..." Polly started, looking at her stepdaughter, her eyes heavy with aprehension. "Tommy can't know what is going on. How will this work? He thinks you're dead!"

"No reason for him to think otherwise, is there?" Gigi asked in return. "You go and pack up your things, bring warm clothes. We'll take care of non-essentials in Wales"

As instructed, Ada left the room with a nod, leaving Polly and Georgia looking at each other, thinking the exact same thought, but hesitating before putting it into words. They both had a clear notion of what had to be done, but it was a decision no one should have to make. As for Ada, she would simply have to be left in the dark, without knowing about the outcome of their wordless discussion.

"Arthur? Finn?" Gigi asked, tapping her foot on the carpet, chewing on her lip. "The wife?"

"I think I know a way around it" Polly nodded, looking down, and then at the girl in front of her. The more she stared, the more she resembled Aberama, and the bigger the determination growing inside her broken heart. "They'll never know, and neither will Ada"

"I can't lie to her. I can't have it between the two of us" the younger woman protested, trying to take a deep breath, and feeling the air getting caught halfway to her lungs. "She will never allow us to do it, and she will never..."

"I don't have to ask for permission. This is what needs to happen. I've known it for a while, but after your father died, it became inevitable" Polly stated, the air around her becoming heavier. It was the kind of raw power Gigi herself emanated when she killed, or when she tortured. The both of them were so alike it was scary, as if Polly had birthed Georgia herself, and given her the ability to transcend human law, deciding on the fates of mortals.

"You understand that I can never... that I can't... you can't do it" Gigi reminded, crossing her arms. "Tell me how, and I'll do it"

"No. It's like you said. You can't have this between you and Ada"

"I already do, Polly! I will always know that we agreed to kill him, that I did nothing to try and stop you. I will always know that, and it will always be a secret! At least let me be the one who does it. If there has to be a secret, I would rather... I would... Fuck. It doesn't matter, does it? I came here to kill him, and he will be dead when I leave. And Ada will be with me, she'll be safe, and this family will too" Gigi thought aloud, exhaling through her nose. "It's for the greater good. And I believe you when you say that you know this has to happen. I trust you, Polly. I trust you, and I put my life in your hands"

"This has to happen, sweetheart. It really does. I've seen it, I've seen it countless times" Polly responded, taking Gigi's hands on her own, and looking her right in the eyes. "You need to be happy, and you need to make my Ada happy. That's all there is. Once you leave Birmingham, don't think about Tommy Shelby again. Look ahead, and nothing else. Promise me"

"I promise, mom"

The word came out with no second intentions, and without any previous thought. Gigi was putting her life in Polly's hands, her love into her hands, trusting her completely. And there was only one person she would trust blindly, and that was a mother. Maybe Aberama, Georgia's father, hadn't gotten to marry Polly Gray; but the love they shared didn't need to be sanctioned in that manner, and Georgia herself didn't need a paper certificate to consider Polly the mother she had yearned for for so long.

Tommy looked out the window, and it through that method that he saw Polly coming in. She looked pale, thinner than before, dressed in all black, but still every bit the aunt who had raised him.

"Tommy, we need to talk" she called out, making him turn around, and exhale the smoke of his cigarette.

"I know, Pol, I know" Tommy replied, inhaling deeply and placing his palms on the desk. The bags under her eyes mirrored his, and although Thomas Shelby was overcome with opium, he had the presence  of mind to understand what was going on, and what was happening, or about to happen.

"I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not. You deserve every bit of what is happening to you" Polly informed, harsh, unforgiving, and not entirely fair. "You took too much from me, and you did it knowing I couldn't forgive you"

"I was hoping you could see that I had my reasons, that I was trying to clean up after all of us" he explained, taking the vial from his desk, and verifying it was empty. "The messes we made, the messes I made..."

"The shit you pulled because you're greedy, because you were never satisfied with what you had, because you are ashamed of who you are and where you came from" was the only possible reply to such a weak defense. "I don't need you to agree. We both know it's true, and that's enough for me. I came here because I had to make sure someone told you the truth before it's too late"

"Pol, Georgia Gold was going to kill me. I couldn't let her do it without putting up a fight. This whole business, this whole family, this fucking city will crumble when I die" Tommy shouted, frustrated beyond words. How was it that no one understood it? Why was everyone so quick to blame him for everything that went wrong, without thanking him for the benefits that being a Shelby finally brought?

"You can't put a price on sleeping peacefully at night. No money in the world can pay for that" Polly argued, keeping calm, her heart not even quickening its pace. "I would be married by now. John would still be alive. Grace would still be alive. I would've met my stepdaughter without having to look over my shoulder"

"John was killed because he was a violent, loose cannon..."

"John was killed because you created plenty of ground for him to kill and torture. He knew that you guaranteed free reign. Same with Arthur. Finn can still be saved, but only if you don't give him a playground to run around with a gun" Polly retorted, seeing the shock in Tommy's eyes. "We should never have tried to be more than who we were, Tommy. And I blame it on you"

"Don't" Tommy advised, chucking his cigarette. "Listen to yourself, woman; you're telling me you'd rather live in a wooden wagon, travelling? How dare you come to my house, and throw all of that on my face, when we have all benefitted from what I did? I have sacrificed everything to give all of you a life beyond your wildest dreams. And this is how you repay me"

"No one is saying you didn't mean well, Tommy. But that's gone. The Tommy I knew and loved is gone. You are no longer the man this family loved, and you're no longer the man this family needs. I don't know how, but I'm sure Shelby Brothers will survive, and so will the Peaky Blinders"

"Arthur and Finn don't have the backbone to handle business" Tommy spat, displaying a lack of consideration for his brothers that was shocking. "Ada might keep the business afloat, and Michael will have to return"

"Ada no longer works for this company. Michael will deal with it, and I'm sure Arthur and Finn will handle the Blinders. It's time for you to go, Tom" Polly said, emotionless and cold.

"Indeed it is, Pol. I never thought it would be you, but I should've known" Tommy chuckled, althought there wasn't a single hint of humour in his voice. "Should've paid attention to unsealed vials"

"No, you shouldn't. You must've known it didn't taste right, and you still drank it. This is on you" Polly pointed out, and this time, Tommy laughed. He laughed like he did before France, and he kept on laughing until his lungs gave out, and his lifeless body hit the floor.