#shelbys-special-place

[dazeymazey]

[ id: drawings featuring three object head characters: Aloe, a curvy adult with brown skin and a lava lamp for a head, Petra, a taller fat adult with brown skin and a cactus for a head, and Shelby, a small baby with light-brown skin and a fishbowl head. in the first image Aloe is tenderly holding a 4 month old sleeping Shelby in her arms. next, Shelby is shown at 6 months old, sitting up by herself, sticking her tongue out. then, Petra is spoon feeding her while she sits in a high chair, at 8 months old. in the second image, Shelby at 10 months old is standing & takes a small step forward, looking up enthusiastically. Petra and Aloe beside each other react with loving awe; Petra, with teary eyes raise their hands to their mouth, and Aloe gently touches Petra's arm. the words "first steps!" is written in all caps. end id ]

baby momence <3

[mellohimelody]

tiefling ranger s2 empires!shubble is real in my heart of hearts

[mydear-corinthian]

welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

[cherryl4na]

❥•°❀"she dances on my tongue"

abstract || it's your birthday and lando wants to help you celebrate it right.

female!reader || fluff. steamy. party!lando. 3.7k words

The anticipation hummed through the air as you stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of your dress. Tonight was your birthday, and Lando had planned a surprise outing that had kept you guessing for weeks. The excitement bubbled within you, mixing with a touch of nerves as you wondered what he had in store.

The door to your bedroom creaked open, and Lando's voice drifted in, filled with playful enthusiasm. "Babe, are you almost ready? We've got a big night ahead!"

You turned to see him leaning against the door frame, a wide grin spreading across his face. His tousled hair and the mischievous glint in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, just as it always did.

"I'm almost there," you replied with a smile, stepping back to give him a full view of your outfit. The dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the color complementing your skin tone perfectly.

Lando's eyes widened appreciatively as he took you in, his grin widening. "Wow," he breathed, stepping closer to you. "You look amazing, absolutely stunning."

You blushed under his gaze, feeling a surge of confidence at his compliment. "Thank you," you said softly, fingers nervously smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

He closed the distance between you, his hands gently settling on your hips. "You always look incredible," he murmured, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips.

The kiss was sweet and lingering, a promise of the night ahead filled with excitement and shared moments. When he pulled back, his hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a familiar gesture of affection.

"So," Lando began, his voice laced with excitement, "are you ready for the surprise?"

You raised an eyebrow playfully, feigning nonchalance. "I've been trying to figure it out for weeks," you teased. "But I have no idea."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Good," he replied, leading you out of the bedroom and towards the front door. "Because tonight, we're going to celebrate in style."

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, Lando guided you towards his car, a sleek and gorgeous model, the chrome Shelby Cobra, that matched his adventurous spirit. The drive was filled with playful banter and shared laughter, the anticipation building with each passing moment.

When you arrived at the club, the vibrant lights and pulsing music greeted you like an old friend. Lando led you inside, his hand warm and reassuring in yours as he navigated through the crowd. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, people laughing and dancing, creating a backdrop of celebration.

He found a secluded corner of the club, away from the thumping bass and flashing lights, where the two of you could talk and enjoy each other's company. Lando pulled out a chair for you, his gaze never leaving your face as you settled in.

"Happy birthday, love," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I wanted tonight to be special for you, just like you deserve."

You smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Lando," you replied, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "Being here with you is more than enough."

He leaned in closer, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "I love you," he whispered, his breath warm against your cheek. "And tonight, I'm going to make sure you have the best birthday ever." Lando pulls back slowly, his handsome face close to you as his eyes look into yours.

His words wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, warming you from the inside out. The music throbbed through the club, the bass reverberating in your chest as you felt the excitement of the night build around you. Lando's hand found yours, his touch grounding you in the midst of the pulsating energy.

You nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face. "I'm already having a great time," you admitted, your voice laced with happiness.

Lando grinned back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Then let's kick it up a notch," he suggested, guiding you towards the bar. "What's your poison tonight?"

You glanced at the array of colorful cocktails displayed behind the bar, considering your options. "Surprise me," you replied playfully, leaning closer to Lando.

He winked at the bartender and ordered a pair of exotic cocktails, each garnished with fruit and served in a glass that sparkled under the club's lights. The drinks arrived with a flourish, and you took a sip, savoring the sweet and tangy flavors that danced on your tongue.

Lando raised his glass to yours. "To another year of adventures," he toasted, his voice ringing with sincerity.

"To adventures," you echoed, clinking your glass against his before taking another sip. The alcohol warms you from the inside, loosening inhibitions and adding to the euphoria of the night.

Encouraged by the music and the lively atmosphere, you and Lando drank and danced with abandon. The cocktails flowed freely, each one more delicious and intoxicating than the last. The dim lights of the club bathed you in a warm, inviting glow, casting fleeting shadows on the dance floor as you moved with Lando in perfect sync.

As the music shifted to a sensual beat, Lando's hand found the small of your back, guiding you effortlessly into a closer embrace. His touch sent tingles down your spine, igniting a fire within you that matched the pulsing rhythm of the music. His other hand intertwined with yours, fingers lacing together as you moved together in a seamless dance.

Laughter and shared moments punctuated the air around you, the crowd becoming a blur as you focused solely on each other. Lando's gaze never wavered from yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. In the midst of the swirling chaos, you found solace in the connection you shared, a silent understanding that transcended words.

With each sway and dip, the gap between you closed, the heat of his body seeping through the fabric of your clothes. His breath tickled your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your skin in gentle caresses between whispered words of admiration and love.

"You're so beautiful tonight," Lando murmured, his voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver through your body.

A blush crept onto your cheeks, the intimacy of his words warming you from within. "And you're irresistible," you replied softly, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw.

The music shifted again, slower and more seductive, urging you to explore the depths of your desire. Lando pulled you closer, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips, guiding your movements with a confidence that left you breathless. The world faded away as you lost yourself in the rhythm, each step and sway a testament to the unspoken passion that simmered between you.

The sultry beat of the song seemed to echo the pulse of your own hearts, drawing you deeper into each other with every measured step. Lando's touch was electric against your skin, sending tingles of anticipation through your body as he led you in a dance that felt both familiar and exhilaratingly new.

His gaze locked onto yours, darkened with desire as he drew you in closer, his chest pressing firmly against yours. The heat of his body mingled with yours, a magnetic pull that defied the crowded dance floor around you. The scent of his cologne enveloped you, intensifying the sensory overload of the moment.

With each movement, your bodies molded together seamlessly, a sensual dance of give and take that spoke volumes without a single word exchanged. His fingers traced patterns along your spine, sending shivers of pleasure up your spine. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer, unable to get enough of the electrifying connection between you.

The world outside of your dance seemed to disappear as the music swirled around you, enveloping you in a cocoon of shared desire. The club's lights flickered and danced above, casting fleeting shadows on Lando's chiseled features, enhancing the allure of his focused expression.

As the song reached its climax, Lando dipped you low, his arm strong and supportive beneath your back. Your breath caught in your throat as he held you there, suspended in a moment of heightened anticipation. His lips brushed against yours, a tender promise of what was yet to come, before pulling you upright and into his arms once more.

"I've wanted this," he confessed in a voice husky with emotion, his forehead resting against yours. "To dance with you like this, to feel this connection."

The sincerity in his words stirred something deep within you, a swell of affection and longing that mirrored his own. You smiled softly, fingertips tracing the contours of his jaw, savoring the closeness you shared in the dimly lit corner of the club.

"I've wanted it too," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, your heart racing in sync with his.

In the quiet lull between songs, Lando's gaze softened, his fingers gently brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. His touch was tender yet filled with a primal hunger that stirred a fire within you. Without hesitation, you leaned in, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of the desire and connection you felt.

The kiss deepened, a shared exploration of yearning and devotion that left you both breathless. His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly closer as the world around you faded into a distant backdrop of music and laughter.

When you finally pulled apart, Lando held you close as the music continued to pulse through the club. The two of you had remained locked in a passionate embrace, bodies still swaying together in sync with the rhythm. The intensity of the moment lingered between you, a palpable energy that crackled in the air around you.

"You drive me wild," Lando confessed huskily against your ear, his voice low yet filled with a raw honesty that sent a thrill down your spine.

A playful grin tugged at your lips as you teased back, "I think you're doing a pretty good job of keeping up."

His laughter was a melody that blended with the music, infectious and filled with genuine delight. "Only because you inspire me," he replied, his hands finding yours and pulling them closer to his chest.

With a renewed sense of closeness, you resumed dancing, bodies moving fluidly as if in a trance. The heat between you only intensified, each touch and sway a testament to the magnetic pull drawing you closer together. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared desire and affection.

As the night wore on, the music continued to weave its spell around you, guiding your movements and heightening the passion between you and Lando. The club buzzed with energy, yet your focus remained solely on each other, lost in the rhythm of the night.

With every dip and twirl, Lando's presence anchored you, his touch a reassuring warmth against the backdrop of pulsating beats and flashing lights. His gaze never left yours, a steady anchor in the swirling chaos of the dance floor.

"You make everything feel so... right," you admitted softly, the words slipping out amid the intoxicating ambiance of the club.

Lando's expression softened with affection, his thumb tracing circles on the small of your back. "You bring out the best in me," he confessed earnestly, his voice barely audible over the music.

In that moment, amidst the intoxicating blend of music, laughter, and shared intimacy, you knew this night would be etched in your memory forever. It wasn't just about the celebration of your birthday anymore—it was a celebration of the love and connection you shared with Lando, a bond that grew stronger with every touch and every whispered promise.

As the music gradually slowed, signaling the end of the night, you found yourselves reluctant to let go of the magic that had enveloped you. With a lingering kiss, soft and filled with unspoken promises, you and Lando finally stepped back from the dance floor, hands intertwined as you navigated through the dispersing crowd.

Outside the club, the cool night air greeted you, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in each other's arms. Lando pulled you closer, his gaze tender as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "You know," he began, his voice low and intimate, "this night is just getting started."

Your heart raced with anticipation as Lando opened the door to his sleek Shelby Cobra. The engine roared to life with a powerful rumble that echoed through the quiet streets. You couldn't help but laugh as Lando maneuvered the car smoothly through the city, his confidence behind the wheel matched only by the sparkle in his eyes.

The drive to Lando's apartment was exhilarating, the wind tousling your hair as the city lights blurred by. Sitting next to him, the adrenaline of the evening still coursing through your veins, you found yourself stealing glances at him whenever you could. His smile was contagious, and you felt a rush of gratitude for the spontaneous adventure he had whisked you away on.

When you arrived at his apartment building, Lando parked the Cobra with a flourish. He turned to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. "What do you say we keep the night going?" he suggested, his eyes dancing with excitement.

You nodded eagerly, caught up in the whirlwind of the evening and eager to see where it would lead. Hand in hand, you followed Lando into the building and up to his apartment. The door closes behind you with a soft click, before he slams you against the door, his lips locking with yours with a heat of passion.

His lips were warm and insistent against yours, a heady mix of desire and urgency. The taste of him was intoxicating, a blend of the mint from his earlier drink and something uniquely him. His hands, strong and sure, cupped your face as if he couldn't get close enough, his body pressing deliciously against yours.

For a moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only the heat between you, the soft gasps of breath mingling, and the electric sensation of his touch sending sparks through your body. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken desires, a culmination of the tension that had been building between you all night.

As the kiss deepened, Lando's fingers trailed down from your face to trace the curve of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. They continued trailing down your body before finally reaching your hips. You responded eagerly, your own hands finding their way up his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes searched for yours, dark and intense. His voice, rough with desire, whispered, "I've wanted to do that since the moment I saw you getting all nice and pretty for tonight."

Your heart raced, breathless from the intensity of the moment. "I'm glad you did," you managed to say, your voice a little breathless.

Lando's smile was both tender and mischievous as he leaned in to press another intoxicating kiss to your lips, this one slower, more exploratory. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer as if he couldn't bear to let you go. After a few beats, the kiss begins to have a sense of urgency from both ends. Sliding his strong hands lower on your body, they find the back of your thighs and grips them tightly.

“Jump,” he whispers against your red, plump lips, not wanting to ruin this intimate moment. Your heart skipped a beat at his whispered command, feeling the thrill of his words resonate through you. Without hesitation, you responded, jumping lightly against him, your lips never breaking contact. Lando caught you effortlessly, his arms wrapping securely around you, pressing you against his solid frame.

The sensation of being held so close, with his lips still moving gently against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, each moment tinged with a longing that mirrored your own.

As he held you suspended against him, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, syncing with your own racing pulse. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in this cocoon of desire and affection.

His embrace was strong yet tender, cradling you against his chest as he carried you through the apartment. The coolness of the hallway was a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from his body, and the sensation of being so close to him made your heart race even faster.

You nestled your head against his shoulder, breathing in his scent—hints of cologne mixed with the faint aroma of the night air. The journey to his bedroom felt like a dream, each step echoing the rhythm of your intertwined hearts. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken desires and promises.

Upon entering his bedroom, Lando gently laid you down on the bed, his touch lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes never left yours, a silent reassurance passing between you. The room enveloped you in its soft glow, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

Lando leaned in, his lips finding yours once more in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. It spoke of longing and a deep connection forged in the whirlwind of the night. His hands caressed your cheek, his touch gentle yet firm, as if silently conveying his desire to explore every inch of you.

As the kiss deepened, the world outside faded away, leaving only the sensation of his lips moving against yours, each touch igniting a fire that burned hotter with every second. The intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, yet you welcomed it eagerly, surrendering to the magnetic pull drawing you closer together.

His hands, with a gentle, unhurried caress, explore the curves of your body, each movement akin to an artist delicately sketching on a canvas. The sensation is as if you were a masterpiece of intricate glasswork, intricate and fragile yet imbued with a quiet strength. Despite recognizing your resilience and inner fortitude, he approaches you with reverence, mindful of the intimacy shared between you. In this moment, he seeks to preserve its sanctity, each touch a testament to his deep respect and admiration for you.

Reaching the hem of your dress, his lips make their way down the expanse of your neck, where his kisses feather lightly across your skin, leaving a trail of tingling warmth in their wake. Each touch is deliberate, as if he's unraveling a cherished mystery, savoring the softness of your skin and the subtle pulse beneath. His breath, a gentle caress, carries with it a mix of desire and reverence, acknowledging the intimacy of the moment. Each kiss is a testament to his adoration, a silent vow to cherish and honor this connection between you.

As their passion threatens to ignite fully, a quiet realization settles amidst the haze of desire. They both recognize the influence of the drinks they've shared, heightening their mutual attraction but also clouding their judgment. With a shared look, they pause, a silent agreement passing between them that they must tread carefully.

"We need to slow down," he murmurs, his voice husky with longing but tempered with responsibility.

You nod in understanding, feeling the heat of his body against yours. "Yes," you agree softly, your fingers gently tracing the curve of his cheek.

Reluctantly, they ease apart, the tension between them palpable yet muted. They share a tender smile, filled with unspoken promises and a deepening connection. With a mutual understanding of the importance of respect and restraint, they decide to honor their bond in a different manner.

They move slowly, deliberately removing their clothing, each gesture marked with a sense of reverence and self-control. The air is thick with anticipation and a tender intimacy as they settle into each other's arms. The warmth of their bodies intertwining offers solace and reassurance, a sanctuary where their hearts can beat in unison.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, they find comfort in the quiet rhythm of their breathing, the world outside fading into a distant murmur. In this moment of shared vulnerability and mutual understanding, they know that their connection transcends mere physical desire—it is rooted in respect, trust, and a shared commitment to cherish and protect each other.

As they lay intertwined, the warmth of their bodies melding together, Lando gently strokes your hair, his touch soothing and affectionate. The softness of the moment envelops them, a sanctuary of peace and acceptance.

In the stillness, Lando's voice breaks the silence once more, a whisper against your ear. "Happy birthday once again, my love," he murmurs, his words carrying a depth of emotion that resonates within you as he leaves a soft and tender kiss on your head.

You turn to him, meeting his gaze with a tender smile. "Thank you, Lando," you reply softly, your heart swelling with gratitude for this intimate gesture.

They linger in each other's arms, the weight of their shared understanding binding them closer. The room fills with an aura of serenity, each breath a testament to their profound connection. In the gentle cadence of their breathing, they find solace and reassurance, knowing that they've chosen to honor their love in a way that transcends fleeting desires.

As they hold each other close, time seems to slow, allowing them to fully immerse themselves in the beauty of the present moment. Their entwined souls whisper promises of devotion and loyalty, weaving a tapestry of love and responsibility that will guide them through the journey ahead.

In the quiet embrace of the night, they drift into a tranquil sleep, their hearts beating in harmony, united in the certainty that their love story is unfolding with grace and tenderness.

©2024 cherryl4na. - please do not copy, repost or translate any of my works on other platforms without my permission.

an || so... i'm feeling a bit insecure and i feel like this was a shit ending. was supposed to go one way but my brain is fried. anyways, hope you liked this one as well. might make a part 2, don't know yet. till next time!

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Prologue

Tommy Shelby x reader (Mini series)

Summary: Y/N has been Tommy’s best friend since childhood. She had always been there for him when he needed her the most. Now as the Shelby family are in a better position, Y/N will need Tommy’s support when something she didn’t expect happens.

A/N welcome to this little new adventure! This story started as an idea @lyarr24 shared a while ago and I just stared at it for a few minutes until the ideas started “appearing” in my mind. This particular part turned somehow into a comedy show on its own 😂🤭 it was fun and light to write, but it’s going to get angsty… thank you for sharing your unique ideas as usual! It took me some time but I’m always into giving each story it’s own time. And of course @justrainandcoffee thank you for creating this beautiful moodboard for this story! You totally nailed it!

Word count: 2,196

Arriving at the Garrison, Y/N headed straight towards the private booth where the Shelby’s were reunited.

“You should’ve seen the look in Polly’s eyes when she found out we were buying the stallion.” John cracked and threw his head back with a loud laugh.

Arthur winked at Y/N and decided to mess with his brother.

“Erm John boy.” He cleared his throat, just as Tommy gave Y/N a smirk, they were both sitting facing the door unlike John who had his back at it.

Tommy used the chance to kick his youngest brother in the shin, as a warning.

“So you think it’s fucking hilarious John Michael Shelby.” Y/N imitated Polly’s voice and mannerisms perfectly.

John’s face paled as the smile left his face and he straightened his back.

Arthur snorted and then started laughing uncontrollably as John turned around to find Y/N standing by the door.

“Shit! Y/N you scared the fuck out of me.”

“Get in here sweetheart.” Arthur called for her, making room next to him. “That was brilliant, you’ve got a talent.”

“You sound just like her.” Ada praised, leaning over the table to kiss her cheek.

“You’re late.” Tommy offered her a glass of whiskey.

Taking a sip, she nodded. “The lady I work for had a terrible day, didn’t want me to leave.” She replied titling her head to the side because Arthur was right in the middle, sandwiched between her and Tommy.

“And how did it go?” He asked over the laughs of his siblings.

“My feet are killing me, I had to walk all the way back… but I really needed a drink tonight.

“Why? Scott didn’t pick you up?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Against his best judgment, he agreed to give Y/N’s boyfriend a place among the peaky men. He didn’t like or trusted him but he was doing it for Y/N and the friendship they’ve always had. Over time, he even gave Scott a car under the condition to drop and pick up Y/N from her work every day.

“We had an argument this morning, he got pissed and I asked him to not.” She lied.

She knew how protective Tommy could get, specially around Scott. They were already past the phase where Tommy would’ve to intervene and put her boyfriend in his place, then Scott would come for her arguing that she let that gangster say and do whatever he pleased.

But Tommy knew Y/N better than that, and this wasn’t the first time she lied to cover for her boyfriend’s attitude.

“What’s so funny?” Polly demanded to know as she joined them in the booth. Staring at Arthur and John’s faces she knew, so she shot Y/N a long look. “You’re imitating me again?!”

The Shelby brothers tried to hide their amusement but all of them failed.

“We wanted to mess up with John, Pol. Sorry.” Y/N looked down embarrassed for being caught.

Polly smiled down at her, it was impossible to stay angry with someone as Y/N.

“Well I hope it was a good one.” The smile grew bigger.

Ada laughed and stood for her aunt to take her place. “You should’ve seen John’s face, he went pale.” Waving at them, she left.

“Hey you need to talk to Finn, he’s getting out of hand these days” Polly warned her nephews. “I asked him to deliver a few letters and he had the audacity to answer he wasn’t a mail boy anymore.”

Tommy shook his head and after a long puff to his cigarette, he answered; “I’ll talk to him.”

Y/N’s chuckle made him look at her. “What? Are you really going to lecture the poor boy? Tom, if I remember correctly, you answered your father something similar back in the day but worse and that caused your first fight.”

Tommy shuddered at the memory. He was so done with his father demanding favors from him and his brother Arthur, so one day he told him he was done with his bullshit and Arthur Sr answered with a curse, threw a glass against the wall and pushed him, Tommy pushed him back. Luckily Arthur Jr and Y/N were close and could intervene to stop them from getting any further.

That night, Y/N stayed with him outside until Tommy had calmed, then she asked her parents, who were neighbors to the Shelby’s if he could sleep on the couch. Y/N’s mother made him some tea and offered him the comfort he wasn’t able to find next door.

They started as neighbors, then Tommy and Y/N became friends until Tommy trusted her blindly. After the war she was the only one who could understand him.

Tommy took a swing of his drink. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you? I’ve a reputation to keep.” He finally added.

“Leave him Pol, the poor boy is probably frustrated because he haven’t had a woman yet.” Arthur chuckled at his own joke.

“Hey,” Y/N called everyone in the room, “leave Finn out, you’re nothing but a bad influence.”

John shook his head and raised his hands as if saying he wasn’t part of it.

“Oh please Mr.-I-want-to-marry-Lizzie-Stark, really?” Y/N raised her eyebrow at him.

“Tommy! Why the hell did you tell her?!” John exploded against his brother, who was already laughing out loud, head thrown back.

Polly had to look twice at her nephew, his guard was down he seemed to be relaxed for once. Since the war he had changed a lot, the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“And besides, I corrected my path, married to Esme didn’t I?” John mumbled chewing on his toothpick.

Y/N nodded, deciding to leave that conversation, it’s was funny to tease John. “I better go now, it’s getting late.”

Tommy was on his feet the second she announced her plans.

“C’mon I’ll drive you.” Tommy offered his best friend.

Giving Polly a hug, she waved at the Shelby brothers goodbye.

After driving for a while, Y/N noticed Tommy took another route.

“Before you ask me,” Tommy spoke softly, “I’m going to show you something.”

She opened and closed her mouth. “You’re so mysterious.”

Tilting his head, Tommy clicked his tongue. “When you see it, you’ll understand.”

“Is it the new horse?” Y/N asked impatiently.

Tommy shook his head and passed her the cigarettes and matches to light it. “Why don’t you tell me what happened with Scott?”

“Something really stupid, he got pissed over nothing.”

“Really? Tell me something I don’t know already.”

Y/N sighed and took her time to exhale the smoke out of the window. “He asked me to ask you for some money, when I told him that he still owed you from the last time he got furious at me.”

“But you gave me the money for that loan.” Tommy’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I did, but it wasn’t his money.” Y/N explained embarrassed after confessing Tommy the truth.

It was now time for Tommy for sigh. Eyes focused on the road, he didn’t want to be a pain and say I told you, Y/N was the only person he could trust and he wanted her to trust him the same way.

“Look this happens all the time, your Mum used to pay your dad’s bills behind his back, I just couldn’t take another one yet, he’s trying to find a better job and I think he’s going to propose soon.”

Tommy’s breath got caught up in his throat, he was trying to process the possibilities.

“So… is he the one?” He finally asked.

“Well he’s my boyfriend.” Y/N rushed to answer. “I just don’t know if he will let me keep working for Lady Winchester.”

“If you need a job, you know there’s always a spot for you at the Shelby Company Limited.” Tommy took the last puff of his cigarette and threw it outside the vehicle.

“Maybe I’ll need it later. Thank you.” Y/N felt more than grateful to have someone like Tommy around, he had always been there for her and her siblings specially after his business took off and he started to earn more money than anyone around. In her eyes, that didn’t make him change, if anything he became more generous.

But Scott on the other hand, was tender and good to her, he was fun to be around, always brought flowers to her. He wanted to have his own business one day, unfortunately life had been hard and it was taking him longer to make it.

Taking a turn, Tommy stopped in front of a huge gate, the property guarded by the gate wasn’t a house, it was a freaking mansion!

And her best friend was opening the gate as if he owned the property.

“Wha-what are you doing?” Y/N asked looking out the window.

“Drive over here!” Encouraged Tommy with a huge smile.

Her heart started beating faster, he showed her how to drive and even let her do it when she wasn’t allowed to. But this was wrong, it felt like they were trespassing, she could feel her heart pounding as Tommy shouted for her to hurry up.

Following his instructions, Y/N parked the car next to the fountain.

“I wanted you to see this first…” His smile couldn’t get any bigger as he opened his arms wide and looked around proudly. “I bought this place.”

Her jaw dropped, she was lost for words.

“What do you think? I’ll build a place for the horses in the back.” Tommy explained, eyes shining.

“Woah… I don’t know what to say Tom.” A hand covered her mouth, still shocked to form anything coherent. This house looked bigger than Lady Winchester’s and that was a bloody mansion too! “You always said you’d get yourself a decent place and a big house, and look at how far you’ve come!” She felt genuinely happy for him, Tommy had always worked so hard, always found a way to help his people and those around him. If anyone deserved this, it was him.

“I’ll even have my fucking office here, and there’s a grand salon for parties.” He explained as he waited for her to step inside.

“Parties?!” She laughed nervously.

“A ball dance and shit.” He took a look around.

“You’ll need loads of furniture to fill this place.”

Tommy chuckled. This was unthinkable a few months ago, now it was a reality, he’d had the big place he dreamed of when he was a kid.

“You got a fireplace! In the tea room!”

He followed Y/N’s voice, she was now standing in the middle of the dining room.

“This looks like it belongs to a Lord.”

“You can call me Lord Shelby then.” He winked at her and they both laughed at how ridiculous it sounded.

“Downstairs it’s the wine cellar.” He added hiding his hands inside the pockets of his pants. “Do you like it?”

“Are you kidding me?” She nodded. “This is a dream! I’m so happy for you!” Y/N then went to give him a hug.

A bold movement for the rest of the world, but to her it was just natural, they’ve been friends since forever. She was the one comforting him when his mother passed away, the one to help him hold it together after the war.

“You’ll love the kitchen, it’s huge but they’re doing some renovations already, I’ll show you once it’s done.”

“Looks like I’ll need to make an appointment from now on.” Y/N teased him.

Tommy shook his head with a shy smile. “Of course not, specially not you.”

She knew he was busier now days that the Peaky Blinders owned the races and licenses. It was just a matter of time before he found a woman and got married, then this house would be filled with kids. Or perhaps he already had someone therefore the plans to get the big house.

Once the realization hit her, she pretended to look towards the window. A sudden lump installed in her throat and something indescribable pressed her heart.

“Should we go? It’s going to be dark soon.” Y/N asked, looking him in the eyes for a mere second.

Time flew on their way back and soon Tommy stopped his car in front of Y/N’s door.

Even before he could say goodnight, an angry voice called for her.

“I’ve been waiting hours for you, Y/N nobody knew where the heck did you go.”

“Slow down mate, that’s no way to treat her.” Tommy intervened, holding Scott’s death stare.

“Stay the fuck out of this.” Scott raised his voice.

Tommy felt his blood boiling, one stride and he’d finish the prick, but before he could move, a pair of soft hands stopped him.

“Tommy please, let me handle this.” She pleaded.

His jaw clenched as he saw the smirk of satisfaction Scott gave him. The bastard had Y/N charmed and there was nothing he could do about it.

✨ Thank you for your support! You already know it, but the way to a writer’s heart is through your feedback xx

Part 1

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @lauren-raines-x @red-riding-wood @lovemissyhoneybee @theendlessvoidofdarkest @wannabeperfectionists-blog @yeppaweshallsee (can’t tag) @skydisneylover (can’t tag) @holacia3 @galactict3a

@saradika-graphics divider

[little-diable]

Working for the devil - Tommy Shelby (smut)

It's been a while, huh. Anyway, I'm back with another Tommy fic, finally. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Reader has been working for Tommy for years, but every now and then it's time for some negotiations about her worth, just pwp really

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, power play, undefined relationship

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (2k words)

“50? That’s more than last month.” Arthur’s voice filled the night, louder than both had anticipated. Her glare forced his eyes away from her features, rather focusing on the shovel she leaned against.

“The risk of being caught is getting higher, it has to be worth it.” A smirk played on her lips, fuelled by the uneasiness the older Shelby brother emenated. She hadn’t been surprised to see him instead of the others, knowing that he was the one that supposedly feared her the least, and yet she couldn’t help but silently hope to see a certain pair of piercing blue eyes again. 

“I have to talk about that with the others, I’ll be back in an hour.” She didn’t get a chance to protest, could only watch the man be swallowed by darkness once again. Silence wrapped itself around (y/n) as she sat down on the bench near the entrance of the cemetery. Her eyes wandered up to the sky to count the stars, getting lost in her thoughts while the minutes kept fading by, slowly turning into a full hour.

Only the sound of boots meeting the gravel ground managed to rip her out of her trance, having to shake her aching neck before rising back to her feet. (Y/n)’s eyes met the pair of blue ones she had been hoping to see, unable to bite down her growing smile, „It‘s good to see you again, Tommy.“

"50, (y/n)? I thought we had a deal.” She allowed herself to study the handsome man for a moment, watching the blue smoke engulf him as he exhaled his drag. The cigarette kept burning, shedding some light onto their surroundings. 

“We did until I was arrested last month and you didn’t come to my help like our deal promised. Deal’s off the table, Shelby, have to make a new one, and that one will cost you some more.” The grin tugging on her lips drew a humourless chuckle out of Tommy, a sound that was swallowed by his movements as he pointed his pistol at her forehead. The sight drew another laugh out of (y/n) while she shook her head at the man she had known for years.

“Should I sink to my knees? Add some drama to your play?” Her tongue kissed her teeth as Tommy cocked his gun, staring at (y/n) as death clearly whispered to him, urging him on to kill her. “I have to say, I’m almost disappointed, is this the price I have to pay for doing all your dirty work?”

“I don’t have time for games, (y/n). You’re not of high value to me, you’re just my property, I can do with you as I like.” Another chuckle, another impatient drag of his cigarette. Life was slipping right through her fingers and yet (y/n) couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had always known that her dirty work would eventually force her to end up like this, facing a gun while tainting the one who had pushed her into her misery all those years ago.

“Perhaps I should have joined the brothel all those years ago instead of working for you, your reasons for a visit would have been more pleasurable than this.” The cigarette was thrown to the ground, stumped out by his shoe. 

“Is this what you want? A fuck?” She couldn’t deny the attraction she had for Tommy, the draw she hadn’t been able to get rid of ever since meeting him. He held some special kind of magic over the girl who had worked for him since she had been a mere teenage girl, preferring to be close to the devil himself than living on the street without a safe place nearby. A draw he had always seemed to ignore while it had swallowed her wholly. 

“I’d certainly prefer it over being shot by you.” A beat passed, then another before the gun was dropped from her forehead only for (y/n) to face his emotionless features. Tommy’s gloved hand found her throat, pulling her in for a teeth-clashing kiss that left (y/n) choking on her gasp. The kiss was heated, fuelled by desperation and anger, emotions she had never linked with Tommy Shelby but which were now more prominent than ever before. 

“Swap the bodies, bring me the skull and then come find me.” He left her standing in the dark, heavily panting with a racing heart. And with one last laugh clawing through (y/n), she slowly turned towards the graves, set on getting another job over and done with. 

……

“Here, the skull.” Dirt clung to every part of her body, from her boots to her hair. She had instantly found her way back to Tommy after the job had been done, entering the mansion without waiting for another command. A trail of soil and mud had been left behind on the floor, painting her walk from his entrance hall to his study. 

“Go wash up, I’ll find you something to wear.” (Y/n) didn’t ponder over his words, happily grasping the opportunity to clean herself up in a space that was much nicer than hers ever would be. She didn’t spare her reflection a single glance as she cleaned herself, stripping out of her dirty clothes with a happy sigh. 

The sound of Tommy knocking on the door to push a shirt into her direction, without looking at her, interrupted (y/n)’s well cherished silence. She tugged the shirt over her wet hair, letting it cover most parts of her clean body with a smile. It smelled like him, engulfing her in the scent that hadn’t changed over the past years. A comforting sensation that left her heart skipping beats while she found her way back to Tommy. 

“Where’s my payment?” He watched her from his chair, smoking another cigarette while his eyes wandered up and down her frame. Slowly, she walked closer - all until she came to a halt in front of him, shuddering in delight as his hands found the backside of her naked thighs to pull her into his lap. The smell of smoke and whisky wrapped her in its embrace, clinging to (y/n) just like she was now clinging to Tommy, waiting for his next move. 

“What will it be, (y/n)? 50 or the fuck you’ve always been desperate for?” His low voice made her shudder, a sight that made a knowing glint appear in his bright eyes. Tommy’s hand grasped the back of her neck to pull her in for another kiss, similar to the one they had shared hours before. But something was different this time around, he tasted of longing and an unfamiliar kind of urgency that made hope grow deep inside of her. 

Perhaps this hadn’t been as one-sided as (y/n) had always feared it may be. 

“What about next time? What will my next payment be?” Her trembling voice filled his study as Tommy’s hands wandered down her back to grasp her waist. She feared he may leave marks on her skin, marks that may never fade again and remind her suffering self of her weakness when it came to Tommy Shelby. A childish weakness she won’t ever get to shake off. 

“I won’t pay you more than 30, (y/n).” The shirt was pulled from her frame, exposing her naked body to his wandering fingers and his hungry eyes. Tommy’s fingers felt cold against her heat, he brushed them along her folds to spread her dripping arousal on her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans grew louder with every unfamiliar touch, unable to hold back as he claimed her body while already owning her soul. 

“40,” she choked on the number she spoke. Tommy had added more pressure to his touch the second his hot mouth found her hardening nipples, sucking on one. She was losing her grip on the situation, on her negotiation about the payment allowing her to feed herself for the next month. All her mind could focus on was Tommy Shelby, the devil himself, the one soul even the reaper feared. 

“We’ll see about that once you leave.” He rose to his feet with her clinging to him, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried her to the couch placed close to his desk. He sank back down to keep her settled in his lap, all while she worked on the buttons of his trousers, feeling his hardening cock press against the fabric. 

“Tell me, (y/n), how do you want it?” Tommy’s raspy voice made her chuckle, eyes focused on his while grasping his twitching cock. She held eye contact with him as she spat down on his tip, allowing her to pump him while a groan clawed through the handsome man. 

“Now I get to choose? What a privilege.” Power thumped through her veins, urging her on to move her hand faster while Tommy reached for her waist, keeping her close with a tight grip. It almost felt as if he was scared of her being nothing but a play of his mind, a vision that would fade the second he came. A vision he’d cling to for all restless nights to come. 

“Fuck, be careful, doll, I can take away that right from you any second now.” She gave him a tighter squeeze, leaving him groaning once again. After a few more pumps, she allowed herself to kiss him, tongue meeting his for a small fight for victory.

“Can I ride you?” Perhaps she was simply aching to feel the power she currently held over him for a tad bit longer, perhaps she wanted to keep control over the situation, whatever it was, it kept her focused on his surprised expression. Tommy stayed quiet for a moment or two before he slowly nodded his head, allowing her to align his cock with her aching heat before sinking down on him. 

His head rolled back, just like hers, letting deep moans claw through them as her walls clenched his cock. (Y/n) moved slowly, trying to adjust with her hands placed on his shoulders and her eyes squeezed shut – no money would ever manage to give her this sensation, nothing would ever make her feel as appreciated as she did at that very moment. Pride simmered inside of her, a pride that was rooted in the knowledge of her being the one that had forced Tommy Shelby to hold back, to accept her conditions this time around. 

Tommy’s hands found her behind to guide her movements, to bury his cock even deeper inside of her to make this moment memorable for them both. Their moans bled together, forming sounds so intimate neither had ever picked up on them before. He marvelled at her, watching (y/n) fuck herself on his twitching cock with an unfamiliar passion, making his body burn in excitement. 

“Tommy,” (y/n) whimpered his name as she slowly lost her grip on reality. Darkness had hugged her frame, wrapping itself around her to guide her towards the edge. “Touch me, please.” 

His piercing eyes didn’t stray from her pleasure-drunken expression, not even as his fingers found her bundle of nerves. He moved with enough pressure, making goosebumps rise on her body while her orgasm crept closer and closer.  Tommy would follow her down the edge, finally feeling what he had secretly been wanting to experience ever since crossing paths with her, the young woman who hadn’t ever feared him.

“Look at me, doll, let me watch you come undone on my cock.” Tommy’s raspy command left her moaning. Their eyes held contact as she came, fucked through her high with his jerking hips and his eager fingers. He pushed her off seconds later, groaning in surprise as her hand found his cock, giving him the needed pumps for him to paint her hand white. 

“35, I won’t go lower.” With a grin tugging on her lips, (y/n) mumbled the words – words Tommy could only chuckle about before pulling her in for one last kiss.

[darlingsfandom]

Like John's scenario to keep the peace between the lees and Shelbys . Wonder if the same happened with the changreta's with Luca's sister y/n married off to Tommy and they are alike coming from different backgrounds . At first they dislike eachother while fucking hard

We do enjoy a good hate fuck over here !

TW: cream pie, breeding kink, slapping, spanking, swearing, face fucking, p in v(unprotected)

“let me get this right…” Tommy lit up his cigarette, “you want me to marry her just to keep it peaceful between our families ?”

“Well yes that’s exactly what I said.” Lucia rubbed his brow in frustration before looking at you. You stood there with a displeased look, arms over your chest rolling your eyes at your older brother. Ever since your father died of actual natural causes, he’s been even more of a pain in the ass. He’s always tried to protect you from the world like a good big brother but now he had to give you to the world’s most dangerous animal… man! More specially Thomas Shelby! Who you hated with a passion or so everyone thought .

“Don’t I get a say in this?” You peeped up . Both of them looked at you before bursting into laughter.

“She’s funny.” Tommy pointed his cigarette at you before sitting down in his chair and smoothing his hand over his chin.

“And she listens for the most part, I mean I got her in this meeting.” Lucia repeated the same movement Tommy did. You stood there chewing your cheek in anger while tapping your foot.

“Tell ya what, let her stay here for a week, if she’s good enough to be my wife I’ll take you up on your deal.” Tommy stuck out his hand. Lucia quickly gripped it and shook on the agreement .

“I’m still here ! I should have a say!” You blurted out before your brother stood up, placed his hands on your shoulders and looked into your eyes .

“I just want to keep you safe, this is the best way to do so! Just trust me, you’ve made it this far in life with my help.” He smoothed your hair before standing up and wished Mr. Shelby a pleasant evening. You stood there in disbelief before grabbing the bottom of your dress and ran after your brother .

“Lucia, please!” You chased him as fast as you could but he ignored you. He put his hand up to stop you and you did. He looked back over his shoulder at you while you stood there with tears in your eyes. He got in the carriage and drove off leaving you in the dust.

A soft sigh left your lips as you hung your head low . You turned around to see other members of the Shelby family staring at you. You kept your head low until you were back inside. Thomas stood at the bottom of the stairs with a stern face awaiting you.

“Very well done darling…” he clapped his hands slowly before coming up to you and placed his hands on your love handles.

“You think Lucia bought it?” You asked running your hands over his chest. Tommy chuckled deeply before grabbing your hand and took you back into his office.

“Can’t believe you ‘ate me that much you’d cry…was a nice touch.” Thomas acted offended while you rolled your eyes.

“Of course I hate you, just not as much…”

“Ya don’t ’ate me that much when you’re riding my cock…” Thomas smirked at you when your jaw dropped. He sat in chair while signaling for you to come closer. Tommy sat you on the edge of his desk, his hand ran from your ankle up to your thigh. “You can deny that all you want …” Tommys fingers ran across your clothes cunt making you squeeze your thighs around his hand. “But this little cunt of yers… will always tell the truth!” He pulled his hand away before striking it hard making a moan slip out from your lips.

“Such an easy little toy.” Tommy gave you another spanking on your pussy.

“You’re such an asshole Thomas.” You gripped his wrist.

“Oh fuck you!” He rolled his eyes.

“Fuck me yourself you coward!” Before you could even smirk, Thomas had you turned around, bent over his desk and dress flipped upwards to expose your ass cheeks. His hand took no mercy in spanking you hard! The stinging was more than normal. You might have actually pushed a button with him which made you tingle in a different way. Thomas left your ass glowing red. His fingers hooked into your panties and ripped them apart.

“Who’s a coward now huh?” He grunted into your ear while giving you another hard slap that made you jolt forward. Tears leaked from the corner of your eyes from the pleasurable pain. The cool air soothed your stinging ass cheeks for a minute only for Tommy to grip the back of your head and pull you backwards onto your knees. “Suck my cock! Now!” He had his cock out already from how eager he was to fuck your face. Your eyes flickered up to his to see how dark they’ve turned.

“I said NOW!” His hand gripped your hair and pulled it forward. Your mouth opened quickly so he could shove his cock down your throat. The tip of his cock hit the back of your throat making you gag slightly. “Look at that, for someone who ‘ates me so much… ya look real pretty sucking my cock.” He stroked your hair slowly while thrusting his cock down your throat.

Water built up in your eyes the more he fucked your face. Drool dripped from the corners of your mouth down his cock. Tommy never took mercy on you when he fucked you. He enjoyed how much you’d say you’d hate him or his cock because both of you knew better. Tommy reached down and smirked as he pinched your nose closed making it hard for you to breathe. Your eyes went wide ! You clawed at his thighs as he thrusted his cock faster making the sloppy sounds echo off his office walls. Tommy finally let go so you could breathe and you let out the loudest gasp he’s ever heard.

“And yet you still let me fuck your throat instead of wanting to breathe.” He pulled you up by the arm. Your face was covered in tears, skin flushed, lips slightly swollen and drool hanging off your chin… a beautiful sight for him. He pressed your back against the desk before getting you laid upon the wood. Tommy waisted no time in spreading your legs up and wide . He shoved the fabric up , gripped the head of his cock and tapped it against your folds.

You laid there panting. Tommy pushed the head of his cock into you in one swift motion.

“Fuck!” You held onto your ankles tightly as Tommy pushed all the way in. He loved how you sucked him in , always so warm and soft! If Tommy loved anything about you, it was your pussy. “Just fuck me already!”

“Aww what’s the matter you little whore? Can’t wait a second ? Need my fat cock that bad?” Thomas placed his hands on your hips and slammed you forward and down on it.

“Anyone can fuck me Thomas! Do better!”

“That’s because you’re just a fucking whore! Takes cock all day … if only your precious little family knew the real you! This version of you! Getting fucked raw by the most dangerous man in Birmingham ! They’d kill over!” His words shouldn’t have made you more aroused but they did. He knew it. You moved one hand away to reach up and hit him the best that you could.

“What a stupid girl you are!” He smacked the side of your face with the back of his hand as his cock slid in and out of you at a bruising pace. Thomas gripped your hips tighter as he bent forward until his hot breath was fanning your face. You tried to look away but he cupped your face and made you look at him. “Don’t look away from me!”

“I’ve seen better men in my head!” You grinned before he smacked you again all while slamming his cock deep inside of you making your toes curl!

“Yet all you do is scream MY name!” He was a cocky bastard that everyone thought you hated including yourself but you knew you loved him. He knew it too.

“Then make me scream it! Show me how a real man pleasures a woman!”

Tommy took the challenge. He lifted your hips up off the desk to go in deeper at a different angle. His cock was hitting that spot that not even your fingers could reach. He was panting hard as his own orgasm was on the edge just like yours was. The fire in your tummy was about to combust as Tommy reached down to rub your clit feverishly. Your breath hitched in your throat as you scraped your nails into the desk.

“TOMMY!” You cried out while tossing your head back. He had a grin on his face that quickly turned into an O when his own orgasm busted inside of you, filling you up the brim with his hot sticky cum. The feeling of your juices mixing with his cum made you smile weakly before he slowly fucked the mixture into you.

Both of you stayed still for a minute taking in the moment. Tommy slowly pulled out of you making sure to not let the mixture leek out of you. He helped you onto your wobbly legs and fixed you up.

“I still hate you…” You smiled softly at him.

“If you hate me now imagine how much you’ll hate me when I put my baby inside of you sweetheart.” He gave you a wink followed by a small smile. The reality of the situation hit you as his hand ran over your face, Tommy was the man you loved to hate and if you’re not careful he’d be the father of your kids.

[rysko]

my request would be literally anything with luca changretta x shelby sister that pairing in this fandom is so my guilty pleasure love your writing so so much, whether you make it into a drabble, hcs or a mini fic i would be happy — gotta love that forbidden enemy lovin 😋

Too old for this - Luca Changretta x F!reader

summary: Keeping secrets, lying to your family, sneaking out...All to see a man, god, what are you? Seventeen again?

OR three times you snuck out to see Luca, and one time he snuck out to see you.

Warnings: Peaky-typical swearing, very minor violence, this is just romantic-comedy-themed fluff,

A/N: Special thanks (and a big fuck you) to @red-riding-wood, next time we race in writing we're making rules.

Aaaaaaanyways, So Sorry this took so long anon! This writing slump was horrible. I really hope you'll enjoy this silly thing!

tag list (yay i have one finally!): @red-riding-wood @peakyswritings

This was stupid. This was so dumb.

Coat hung loosely around your shoulders, shoes in your hands as if to not make more noise than necessary, you snuck through the Small Heath Shelby house corridors. Almost cartoonishly so, when your frame passed one of the occupied rooms. If you had to guess, the last time you did that was years ago, when you were just a teenage girl with overprotective brothers, now you're an adult, rough-around-the-edges woman...with the same overprotective brothers.

Though, this time it's not a nice stableboy you're sneaking out to see. Now it seems like your brothers would have every right to threaten the man you're seeing with a blinding.

You slowly go down the old, wooden stairs, wincing at every crack and whine that echoes. The whole house is dark, the room illuminated only by the street lamps outside.

Almost...

Before you reach for the doorknob, you clumsily take the keys into your teeth to put your shoes on, which puts you in quite an embarrassing position when a table light behind you suddenly turns on.

"Aren't you a bit too old to be sneaking about Y/N?" Polly asked with a smugly raised eyebrow, nursing a glass of whiskey, legs crossed on the velvet red armchair. You spit out the keys.

"I'm not sneaking." You try to compose yourself as best as you can. "I'm going for a walk."

"Very conspicuous behaviour for a walk, love." The glass muffles her chuckle. Was she just...waiting here?

"I just don't want Tommy to get in my hair whenever I even look in the doors' direction." You whine. "I'll go crazy in this house soon." This seemed to soften Polly up just a bit, or maybe activate the part of her brain which insists on the 'fuck them' mentality when it comes to obeying Tommy's orders.

"Just don't get into trouble. God knows i need to tell you that." She dismissed you with a flick of the wrist, and you just nodded before rushing out the door, as if Polly could change her mind any second.

Street after street, the tension slowly eased off your shoulders as you were exiting the tight Shelby territory. It was a close call once in a while, someone almost recognizing you before you could cover your face more. A group of men whistling after you before you could disappear in a dark back alley. Slowly, you closed in on the place you agreed to meet a man by the name you even feared to say in your head, as maybe Tommy would sit there by sheer coincidence, resulting in you getting cut, or him, or both of you, how Shakespearean...

How has it gotten to the point where you are happily fucking the enemy? Devil knows, honestly.

In the back of your mind, you always had a nagging feeling Luca only started seeing you to spite Tommy. This wouldn't be a problem, of course, you regularly told yourself. You're spiting Tommy yourself!

No, that honestly didn't help. The truth is, whatever Changretta's intentions were, or, still are, you found him irresistibly captivating. Like a substance you just can't resist, one that soothes and pleasures, but at the same time comes with a fifty-page warning label. You can see this blowing up in your face from a mile away, in a million different ways. Yet, every visit, every phone call, hell, every sneakily delivered note shuts off any sense you have left in yourself.

And now you feel like losing it again, when just in front of the speakeasy Luca asked to meet you, a very familliar set of hands gently rest on your waist from behind.

"Took you long enough doll." A kiss on the cheek accompanies the low foreign drawl of Luca's voice, sending shivers down your neck and spine. Shit, if all of you will die soon, you might as well have some fun until then. It's not like Tommy's staying celibate in mourning.

"You're saying that to a doll that has to endure my brothers mythering about town. Sneaking out in the middle of the night isn't as easy for me as it is for you." With your arms crossed, you motion to one of the alleys you emerged from just moments ago. "There's all sorts of shady blokes out and about."

"M'sorry, i got impatient, that's all." You could feel his thumb gently rubbing against your waist "Anyone gave you trouble? You got the gun I got you?" Luca pulled back, looking you over, the slightest hint of concern visible in his dark eyes.

"Yes. To the second thing. I'll be fine." You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. "Are we going in?"

"Right this way cara." Luca's lips curled into a small smile. He linked your arms together and in a nearly over-the-top way led you down the stairs of the high-class Speakeasy.

You might as well have some fun, that's all this is after all.

The loud whistle of the conductor woke you up from an on-and-off slumber, the train from Birmingham to London wasn't exactly the comfiest place to rest your head in. From outside the window, the ever-so-lively London train platform came into view.

To be honest, it surprised you when Luca invited you to spend the weekend in London, even more so when you managed to form quite an elaborate story to justify the trip to your family, or more accurately, Polly. Tommy seemed preoccupied with fighting the Italians, chasing the May lady around town, and making quite mediocre gin to even care what you were up to. Needless to say, officially you finally found a friend that you just have to visit. Polly seemed to pay it little mind, but the sly look in her eye, as she saw you off at the door, made you just a tad paranoid that she might have caught on.

Like always, this will bite you in the arse sooner or...sooner.

Up until now, every 'visit' you paid Luca hadn't lasted for more than half a day, only once reaching a full 24 hours when, to your horror, you managed to oversleep. That was a morning of sloppily put-on clothes and numerous muttered 'shits' and 'craps', of course, accompanied by a very amused Luca doing everything in his power to distract you.

What you were doing right now seemed like a step up from the usual routine. Two days aren't going to fly by with just sex, though, that wouldn't be so bad. But lately, you realized you just wanted to...ugh, spend time with him. However sappy this sounded. But that's not what this is. What even is 'this'? When you and Luca met, what happened was purely driven by want, maybe with more than a touch of curiosity of the 'forbidden fruit' in the form of the enemy. Sweet, with sour at the back of your tongue.

Lately, you realized, you only feel the sweet when you kiss Luca. And though you'd never admit it, you dread him not feeling the same.

You two have your moments. Pillow talks with topics never discussed with anyone before, coffee filled with banter worthy of an old married couple, and non-sexual touches that linger for just a bit longer than they should. It's addicting and confusing at the same time.

And that addiction and confusion just led you all the way to London.

Stretching out of your seat, you reach for your bag in the luggage compartment, only for a stranger to take it instead.

"There you go, Miss." The man, looking maybe a decade your senior smiled handing you the bag.

"Thank you, sir." You muster a polite smile, praying internally that the stranger isn't from the same place you are. "I could've done it myself though."

"It's really nothing, common kindness it is..." The longer he spoke, the more his voice trailed off. His eyes widened, studying your frame and most importantly, your face with a new approach. "You're-"

shit

"Thankyougoodbye." You rush and almost run out of the carriage, running into multiple people and throwing rushed half-assed apologies their way. You're stopped by a strong, painful grip on your arm, the man from before pushing you further down the platform, more secluded from people.

"I knew you were familiar." He grabbed the collar of your shirt and pushed you into a pillar roughly, knocking a bit of air out of your lungs. "One of those Shelby devils!" The man's gaze was furious, almost seeing red.

"Let me go." You ordered, trying your best not to attract attention to the both of you. "And we can both forget about this." You're trying your best to speak sternly and diplomatically, yet more than a hint of fear is hearable in your voice. He seems to notice.

"You ruined me!" The Brummie spat. "I'll cut your pretty face just like they cut me brothers." A rough, callous hand cupped your jaw to hold it in place, the other reaching into his jacket. You feel a mixture of panic and adrenaline make its way to your veins.

"Get the fuck off me!" All your strength goes towards your legs. You kicked him back a foot or two, which only seemed to infuriate him more. Before he could take even a step towards you, he's violently grabbed by... Wait, Luca?

"How 'bout you let the lady go, hm?" His grip on the brummies' collar turned red, almost lifting the man off the ground. That wasn't reflected at all in the way Luca was speaking however, for the first time he seemed...calm, condescending even. That only changed when the man didn't seem to take no for an answer. "That wasn't a fucking request." Luca's voice became a gravelly threat, which resulted in the attacker promptly looking between you and Luca as if weighing the risk and reward. Finally, he nodded his head frantically.

Luca didn't need to be told twice. He almost threw the man aside, letting him limp off into the distance. The Italian was almost immediately by your side, gently cupping your face, checking for any sign of hurt or damage. You feel his thumb caress a small spot next to your brow, despite you being almost sure you hadn't been hit anywhere near there. You take a look behind Luca to see the man at a larger distance.

"Wouldn't think you'd just let him go like that." You raise an eyebrow at Luca, not in a teasing way, it just feels oddly out of character for him to just let him go.

"Because I ain't gonna." He turns to a seemingly unaware civilian reading a newspaper, mumbling something that sounds like Italian, his head only slightly motioning towards the direction in which the Brummie fled. Ah, one of his men, cousin maybe. Just as he left, Luca stopped him for just a second more. "Alive." He let him go.

"Look at you, my knight in shining armour." You smile up at him while catching your breath and trying to calm down.

"Yeah yeah." He doesn't play into your teasing this time. "You alright?" He rubs your upper arm as if dusting off any remaining trace of the event before.

"Just a bit roughed up, had it worse after playfighting with Ada back in the day." You shrug. "I was prepared for you to bash his head in right here."

"That can wait a few days." His gaze followed a pair of men dragging the attacker off the station, his voice almost a promise.

"A few days? What happened to the vengeful, impatient Luca I know?"

"This Luca-" He holds out his arm for you to take. "-Is going to starve him a bit before giving him the mercy of a pipe through his skull."

"How romantic." You sigh in an exaggerated, lovesick voice. "Talk more like that and maybe I'll lift the 'no shop talk' policy." You wink at Luca as you link your arms together, his shoulder becoming the perfect pillow for your head. This time, Luca welcomes it happily.

"How gracious of you." His low chuckle meets yours as you head off to the London center. A fun weekend out is due, after all.

Now, this was definitely an unusual location. 

At first, it seemed to you that Luca must have just confused locations when calling. Yet here you were, on the outskirts of a local forest, your only companions in the form of singing starlings and rustling trees.

All this seemed like a rope that was being pulled from only one side. You were the one to stress about being found out, evading family, hell, call sometimes. You felt like a brat, honestly. Technically, there was nothing Luca did that should have upset you, he couldn't have if there were no rules. Was that the thing though? Did you want there to be rules?

With every visit, you want to stay longer, talk more, and Luca seemed to entertain all of it. It confused you. What plan did he have with all this? Did Luca want you to catch feelings and lure you into a vulnerable state, resulting in killing you? Maybe he counted on you as a potential ally against Tommy, trying to manipulate you. Maybe he's just incredibly dense?

He can't want an actual relationship. Luca came here to kill your whole family, including you. The fact that he also likes to play with his prey is another thing, hell, he probably has a wife or girl back in New York. There has to be a wedding band under one of these tacky rings and signets.

"What the hell is he planning?" You kick a pebble down the dirt road in frustration. "A damn Picnic?" You finish off with a groan as you squat down.

Your answer came in the form of the sound of a Rolls Royce engine heading closer and closer toward you, the black car kicking up a hefty amount of dust and rocks. As it slows down next to you and ultimately comes to a halt, you see the familiar face of Luca's right-hand man.

"Get in." Matteo nodded in the direction of the backseat, though you didn't take it into consideration, and immediately headed for the shotgun seat.

"What is all this?" You look around the car as it backs up and starts speeding off in the same direction it came from.

"Luca asked me to get you to him safely," Matteo explained, not taking his eyes off the road. "He didn't want any uhh, repeat from last time."

"How sweet." You answer sarcastically. Ah, of course, he couldn't bother.

"He was definitely sweet when he put the bozo out of his misery." He laughed, looking to the side, as if seeking approval for his joke, but didn't get any. Matteo's laughter dies into an awkward cough.

"How long's the ride?" You try to position yourself as comfortably as possible in the stiff leather seats of the car.

"About an hour." He answers, and you visibly deflate in your seat, deciding to spend the time looking at the sights outside, fields, and occasional houses passing by.

A long, awkward silence passes between the two of you. It seemed to bother the man to your right, who tapped his index finger against the steering wheel while stealing the occasional glance. He looked like he was debating saying something.

"So..." He begins, almost like a father starting a conversation with a child he doesn't quite get. "Did you finish Ulysses yet?"

"Did..." You do a double take, studying Matteo for a long second. "...Did Luca give you conversation starters?"

"What if I made them up?" He blurts out.

"We've spoken twice, Matteo." You raise an eyebrow at him, arms crossed. "I never told you what I read."

"Maybe I just guessed what girls like nowadays." He smirked at you, feeling triumphant.

"I'm sorry, but you're the least qualified person to talk about girls." You say with a chuckle.

"Touche." He smiled, then looked back at the road, letting the silence sit only for a few seconds. "But you're right, we've only spoken twice."

"So?" You raised a brow.

"Sooo." Matteo draws out. "We have about an hour to catch up."

You're genuinely confused as to why Matteo was being so personal all of a sudden. Usually, as in, in the last few weeks or so, you've had two separate, short conversations with the man. Once, when you accidentally came into his room instead of Luca's during one of your 'visits'. The other time, when both of you had quite a boring and awkward conversation about English meals in a lift. "On what grounds should we 'catch up'?"

"On the grounds that you're fucking my cousin Miss Shelby." The way Matteo said that was surprisingly casual. "And family is important to me."

"It's not like I'm married to him." You reply faster than you'd want to.

"He damn well acts like you are." He chuckles, and you feel yourself stiffen, looking at the Italian like he just told you the earth is flat. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"What do you mean by 'acts like I am'?" The question leaves your lips in an uncertain tone, almost shy.

"Never seen him so distracted by someone he's known for such a short time." He says with a shrug "Foolish if you ask me, but who am I to judge, at least he's happy."

He's happy??

"Uh, yeah." He throws you a pitiful smile, as if he could see how perplexed this information made you. "At least from what I can see."

Oh, of course, you said that out loud.

You quieted down, gaze resting on your lap. Now this was new information you had no idea how to process. You bit your lower lip in thought, unsure if the emotions you're feeling right now are uncertainty or... giddy, immature happiness.

You sit like that for a good few minutes before a small, sly smile graces your lips.

"Cousin, huh?" You ask, looking out the window, your good humour slowly creeping back in.

"I'm not telling you his secrets," Matteo says almost immediately as if he somehow knew that you were going to ask that.

"And I'm not asking you." You clarify. "But you probably have some nice stories."

"About what?"

"You knooooow..." You draw out, cocking your head to the side. "What was he like, back in the day?"

"Same as now, I guess. Only longer ago." It seemed like that was the end of your prying on Luca, but after a longer moment, Matteo mused more to himself than anyone else in the car. "More chipper in New York though..."

"Chipper? I'd like to see that."

"Oh yeah, and stupid."

"Now we're talking, tell me more." You lean forward in your seat, elbows resting on your thighs.

"No, I already told too much," Matteo says like he's telling his friends he's had enough drinks for the night. "He's going to skin me alive if he finds out I told you about this."

"Oh come oooooon. I won't tell." You shuffle your feet excitedly. Matteo looked forward, focusing on the road ahead, but after a moment of looking between the steering wheel and you, he let out a defeated sigh.

"...Back in New York, when we were just goons for Spinietta, Luca came up with a new con to scam people with, a really fucking stupid one..."

.

.

.

"And then, THEN it turned out the other guy was from London, and when he heard Luca speaking in a shitty Birmingham accent he-" He paused, but only to wheeze in laughter. "He beat the fucking shit out of him." Matteo finishes the story, on the verge of tears.

"No!" You gasped, though not hiding your laughter as well, leaning forward in your seat.

"Yes!" Matteo wipes a stray tear from the corner of his eye, still trying to calm down his laughter. "Never seen Luca on his ass faster in my life, ti giuro. "

"Oh god. And I'm supposed to NOT tease him about it?" You say in amused disbelief. "When he's all 'Look at me, I'm mister smug and aloof, I've never gotten beaten up like a bitch before'." You put on your best impression of the Italian, even going to the lengths of putting a match between your lips and exaggerating your words with excessive hand gestures.

"Hey, we're all hiding behind something principessa." Despite Matteo defending his cousin, he still couldn't help but laugh along with you. After a moment, both of you calmed down, this time falling into a pleasant, comfortable silence before you spoke up again.

"What about you?" You turned to Matteo again.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you want to catch up." You lean against the leather seat, bringing your knees to your chin. "We've got an hour, you ever played two truths and a lie?"

It was a nice ride.

Everyone and their mother thinks the Small Heath home is haunted. Random objects flying off the wall at night, specific items appearing in places they weren't before, the occasional crooked painting.

Footsteps are definitely new.

The boys and Polly are dealing with business outside of town for once, while Ada just went out and should be here any minute. But that definitely isn't Ada.

Slow, almost wary footsteps cause the floorboards to creak on the ground floor. You're sitting next to the stairs, knees tucked to your chest and spare pistol in your hand.

Another step.

You press your ear to the floor, trying your hardest to pinpoint how many people were inside just by footsteps... Just one?

They appear to be coming closer, and you internally brace for confrontation with whoever broke into your home. As the intruder passes the corner you were hiding in, you stick out the gun and press it to the side of their head, making them immediately freeze in place.

Wait-

"Luca????" You blurt out in shock, your voice becoming at least a few octaves higher.

"Hey, you actually kept it," Luca says, sizing up the gun he gave you that's now pressed to his head. "Though I'd rather not die by it sweetheart, no offense."

"FUCKING hell Luca! You scared me half to death!” Your arms drop next to your hips. putting the gun on a table nearby.

“Relax, who would it be if not me?” Luca moves towards you, probably to say his hellos in the form of peppered kisses.

"Who would it be? What do you MEAN who would it be?!" You rub your eyes, not sure if out of frustration or as a way of trying to wake yourself up. “Police? IRA? My own bloody brothers?!” Somehow, this is exactly what you wanted. Luca being the one that sneaks through Small Heath and avoids the blinders, instead of it being always you. Though now, instead of it being a late-night fantasy of the charming man sneaking into your bed despite the dangers of doing so, it's a real-life nightmare of this idiot trying to get himself killed.

“Yeah well, it’s not them.” He shrugs, glancing around the house. “I’d like to see anyone try to stab you in the back in this house. I figure before I’ll get to them you’ll just kill them yourself.” 

“Yes, I am quite amazing.” You muse to yourself before snapping back into reality. “Don’t think you can butter me up and I’ll drop it, what are you doing here?!"

“I’m seeing my doll.” 

“Need I remind you you’re inside my idiot brothers’ territory?”

"Relax, we'll manage."

You two did not manage.

Who knew Luca Changretta had a talent for knocking down hanged pictures and stepping on the creakiest parts of the wooden floor.

“Shush for once in your life.” You hissed at Luca as you led him through the tight corridor, internally begging whatever made-up deity may be watching over you to please not let Arthur or Polly magically appear out of the corner.

“Please, it’s not like-” You can practically hear Luca roll his eyes, and despite you usually letting him release whatever condescending thoughts he had on the daily, you think you just heard a door open in the distance. You practically drag him the remaining meter to your room's door and push him inside, shutting it way too loudly.

As it turns out, the deity listened to you, but only to half of your half-assed prayer.

“Ada! Heyy!” You try to stay nonchalant as you lean against the door.

“...Hey?” Ada's pace slows down next to you, “What’s got you so pent up?”

“Pent up? Pshh.” You're really not good at this. “Well, I guess I’m just tired, I better get to bed.” Your thumb points back towards the door of your bedroom.

Ada stays put, looking at you puzzled and suspicious.

“Are you going?" She asks.

“Yes.” You blurt out. ”What about you?”

“Y/N, cut the crap. I heard something.” She looks at you for answers, but only when she looks at the door again it's almost as if a light turns on in her head. “Are you…Sneaking someone in?” She reached for the doorknob only to be stopped by you slapping it away.

“Ada no!” You shield the door with your whole body.

“Ow! Hey, come on, I’m not judging. God knows you deserve some fun once in a while.” She rubs her hand. “So who is he?” Your sister looks between you and the door excitedly, her voice now hushed, like all these years ago when the two of you spent hours under the covers giggling about the stupidest of things.

“Uhh, just-” You stammered, struggling to find the right words. or any words for that matter. “You don’t know him.”

“I trust he’s not afraid of Tommy since he followed you here.” She threw a wink your way. “Reminds me of Freddie and I back in the day.” A fond smile graces her face as she looks to the side.

“Oh he’s not, that’s for sure.” You laugh nervously, internally waiting for the sweet release of death. Ada seemed to notice.

“All right, I’ll get out of your hair.” She laughs at her sister, squeezing your cheek as she walks past you. “Don’t get her knocked up Romeo, then maybe I won't have to tell Tommy!” She calls, walking off down the corridor. Only after Ada completely vanished from your periphery you opened the bedroom door just a few inches and slid in. The door locked, checked three times, and you finally released a big sigh, hands sliding off the door to rest next to your hips.

You turn around to see a very out-of-place Luca. Almost everything about him clashed with your small childhood room, the humble interior looking somehow even cheaper next to him. After the company took off, the family never bothered to fancy up the place, instead, everyone went their separate ways into apartments and stylish homes. Yet somehow for you, no king-sized plush bed will ever replace the old, creaking twin you have right here in Small Heath, always ready for you with open arms.

Luca took his sweet time taking in the place. Picking up and then putting down every insignificant object, from small toys you never bothered to throw out or sell, to numerous books lying around the room. He spends the most time looking at an old, framed picture sitting atop your windowsill. Luca's thumb brushes off a heavy layer of dust from 10-year-old Y/N in her year 5 uniform, while the actual Y/N takes her place beside him, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Adorable." Luca nudges you, a sly smile on his lips as he puts his other arm around your shoulders.

"Oh hush, I'm sure I can find a picture of little Luca if I sneak into your home." You stab a finger into his arm playfully, smiling fondly at the picture.

"Wishful thinking, doll. Wishful thinking..." Luca sets down the frame and focuses his attention on you. A kiss on your temple leads to his lips softly trailing down to your nose and meeting your lips. Now the stress of the whole damn ordeal seemed to start slipping away, and the sweet taste is there once again.

The sound of a door crashing on the far end of the hallway takes both of you out of your trance.

“So, that…was Ada.” You turn your head to try and hear any sounds of your sister leaving her room, but Luca doesn't seem to pay it any mind.

“She seems nice.” He hummed against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone, biting down gently.

“What are you doing Romeo?” You turn your head slightly to squint your eyes at him, a distrusting smile gracing your lips.

“Breaking my promise to your sister.” His sly drawl is muffled against your skin as both of you step by step head towards the bed.

“Did you want to come here only to sleep with me under Tommy’s nose?” You sit down on the bed, your brows furrowing.

“I always come firstly to you and because of you,” Luca emphasizes every word as he slowly gets on his knees, never taking his eyes off you. “But yeah, being here does come with its satisfaction. If only they’d see you now, cara.” His hands push up your dress, finding their way to your thighs, fingers getting busy with the garters holding up your stockings.

“Yeah, maybe cut it with the Italian. My sister could be listening in.” Luca only seems to respond in a musing hum. “You never know.” 

“Should I put on my best Birmingham accent?” He looks up at you, his signature smartass grin more endearing than annoying.

“Not now. You’ll ruin the mood.” You murmur just mere inches from his lips, laying back into the old, creaky bed, Luca following put. “But definitely save it for later, I need to hear that."

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Bad Habits Are Hard to Break When I'm With You.

Thomas Shelby x reader

Author's note: what is my obsession with Tommy having a mistress? 😭

Masterlists

Summary: Thomas can't seem to stay away from his wife's new friend, and even if he could, neither of them would want him to.

Warnings: SMUT/NSFW, angst, infidelity

She’s like a bad habit- the worst of them. He could drink himself to oblivion, smoke until his lungs turn to marsh and drown his system with opium and she'd still be the worst habit- the worst addiction- he has. Thomas doesn’t recognize himself when he’s around her; it's like she enters a room and he’s entranced.

Under the control of a siren song or some enchantment.

She ruins him, makes a mess of him. Because Thomas thinks that even when she isn’t around, he’s completely and utterly in ruins at the thought of her. Her. Y/n. A recent friend of Lizzie’s, the object of his wildest and most lewd fantasies. He never even had time to be perplexed by the odd pair they made before being totally consumed by the very thought of her; Y/n, her expensive education and even more expensive London apartment and Lizzie, who he knows is only still married to him out of convenience. At this point, he can’t even remember where or how Lizzie met her, just that she was in his drawing room one day, sipping gin and wearing lips so red that he swore they’d been painted with the juices of fresh, spring berries.

Since then, he’s kissed those lips. Tasted their sweetness, been intoxicated by their saccharine flavor.

And his wife hasn’t suspected a damn thing- at least, he thinks she hasn’t. If she has, Thomas hasn’t noticed, and that may be because his interests have been lying elsewhere.

And now he’s sitting so close to her that he swears that her perfume floods his senses with every inhale. Thomas knows that he can just reach over and lay his hand on her thigh, but what kind of husband does that right in front of his wife? The worst kind. Thomas knows that he’s probably amongst the worst of the worst, the type that would reach over and splay his hand under Y/n’s skirt while they dined with Lizzie but Y/n is as good of a friend as she can be given the circumstances and would give him an earful if he did something like that.

So he’ll keep his hands above table and try to contain himself for as long as necessary.

Dinner seems to drag on, though. There’s an eternity between the moment the first drink is laid before them to the moment Francis announces that dessert will be served shortly. Thomas swears that he’s gone gray by the time the meal is over, and by then, the tension is enough to stifle him.

“Oh, Tommy,” Lizzie knocks off the ash from her cigarette, “I forgot to mention, Y/n is staying over tonight. The drive back to her place is so long, and her driver asked for the rest of the night off.”

“I hope it's no imposition,” Y/n interjects after a long sip of her wine, and the sparkle in her eyes when she says it is telling of something more. Of course, Thomas already knows she’ll be staying over, she’d already detailed her and Lizzie’s arrangement to him when they saw each other the day before, at a hotel in the city, where four walls had cocooned them for a few precious hours. “My driver is taking his wife to dinner for her birthday, but if its any trouble, I can try to make other arrangements.”

“No trouble,” Thomas shrugs, holding her gaze, “Anything for a….friend of my wife.”

At that, Lizzie scoffs a chuckle, “Well that’s a first,” she jokes brashly, polishing off her wine before reaching over to pour herself another glass.

Y/n chuckles too, and the sound is so melodious that he thinks he’s never heard something sweeter, “I must be special then,” she teases.

In response, Thomas huffs, and its only because he can’t say anything that won’t give them away. But in truth, Y/n is special; she’s the first woman to ever make his knees feel like they’re buckling every time with just a look, he has to pocket balled fists when he’s around her just so the tension coursing through his body has somewhere to go and he hangs on to every word she says.

She’s the only reason he’s still at that table; he and Lizzie rarely have dinner together, much less drinks afterwards. But Thomas can’t stand to let Y/n out of his sights. He wants to see the way her lips stain those minty, imported cigarettes that she enjoys and be privy to those moments when she casually runs her fingers along her collarbone.

It's possible that she’s worse than an addiction - Y/n is an obsession, and he is nothing but a fiend.

The rest of their quiet evening passes with her and Lizzie dominating the conversation, with Thomas only enduring the whole thing so he can be in Y/n’s orbit. Afterward, they separate; Lizzie decides to show Y/n to her room, and he steals away to his office under the guise of having to work. Though, while there are a series of documents that require his attention, it's impossible for Thomas to focus while she’s in the room over his head. Probably peeling off that stunning silk dress, exposing ample breasts and perfect curves while the smooth fabric skims down thighs that he’s tasted the inside of and legs that have locked around his hips more times than he can count. And because of that, the excuse of having to work is just that, an excuse. A way to bide time until he’s certain that Lizzie is their room, hopefully deep in a wine induced slumber.

When the house finally goes still, Thomas deserts his suit coat and heads upstairs, passing his own bedroom and pausing in front of the guest room where the yellow glow of a lamp seeps out from under the door. Without knocking, he turns the knob and pushes the door open slowly, hoping to quiet the pesky creek that accompanies the motion.

Thomas finds Y/n on a chair near the window, which she has opened. The tall lamp is positioned over her shoulder, and in her hands, she clutches a novel with a name he doesn’t recognize past the title being obviously in French. “What’re you readin’ eh?”

Marking her page, she sets the book down in her lap, freeing the view of her chest, clad in a rayon nightie that doesn’t do much to hide the fact that she isn’t wearing a bra. “A book. It's French.” Y/n hums.

“I can tell,” He huffs, and Y/n laughs softly.

Deserting the chair, she stands and proceeds to cross the floor. Her steps are practically inaudible on the lacquered floors, possibly because she isn’t wearing shoes. “Its……romantic, in its own way,” when she reaches him, Y/n looms her arms around his neck and Thomas instinctively takes firm hold of her hips, the warmth of her skin permeating the thin fabric. “You wouldn't get it.”

“Callin’ me stupid?” Thomas arches a brow.

Y/n giggles, a sound so thrilling that Thomas struggles to not come apart right there. “Oh, I would never,” the tips of her fingers caress his nape so gently that they feel like butterfly wings beating against his skin. “It's about the devil. And a man.”

Thomas searches her eyes, “And what does the devil do to the man, eh?”

“Falls in love with him. Follows him around disguised as a woman and tries to seduce him,” Y/n offers simply, and Thomas pauses, “It reminds me of us,” she adds in a more hushed tone.

He squints a little, trying to understand what she could possibly be trying to say, “Why? Am I the man or the devil?”

At that, she laughs a little louder, “Well you're hardly a virgin boy,” leaning into him a bit more, Y/n continues, inching her lips closer and lowering her tone, breath fanning his neck, “Perhaps we're both the devil.”

“Oui,” he offers humorously, Burmie accent muddling his pronunciation.

Licking her lips, she stands on her toes to bring them closer to his, and at this point, her breasts are pressed firmly to his chest, “Mon cher Belzébuth, je t'adore,” (my dear Beelzebub, I adore you). Y/n’s accent is the perfect product of a well-educated and widely traveled woman, and he can practically taste her words as they send the most pleasurable tingle up the center of his back.

“Maybe I should read that book,” Thomas suggests.

Y/n’s hand starts creeping downwards, first grazing his shoulder, then his chest, passing over his stomach before finally settling on the bulge in his trousers. There must be a spark when her fingers curl against him because that would be the only reason for the hitch of his breath. “Perhaps you should do something else,” she gives him a purposeful squeeze, and Thomas mirrors the motion by tightening his grip on her hips.

“Yeah?” He rasps, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Yes,” Y/n hisses. His lips come down on hers, and she readily relinquishes control. Her mouth is, just as he remembers, soft and warm. Y/n’s lips are sweet from the wine and he can taste the mint from her last cigarette. When he curls his fingers around the back of her thighs, hoisting her up into his arms, she gasps.

“You never said if I was special,” her breathy words punctuate their hungry kisses.

“Really?” He breathes, walking forward until her back hits the nearest wall, eliciting a soft ‘omph’. “Well sweetheart, let me show you.”

Caressing his nape, Y/n bucks her hips, “Please.”

Securing her against the wall, Thomas shoves the hem of her nightie up Y/n’s thighs, feeling the contrast of her warm, silky skin under his rough, calloused fingers. “All night,” he rasps between fervent, open-mouthed kisses, “You’ve been a fuckin’ distraction,” he squeezes her hips so tightly that his fingers might leave bruises, “What are you doin’ to me woman? Eh?” He groans when she bites his lower lips, “You’re a fuckin’ drug.”

If there's anything worse than opium, it's probably her.

Y/n giggles softly, “Am I now? Drugs are intoxicating.”

In his arms, he carries Y/n over to the bed, unceremoniously dropping her onto the perfectly made sheets. Clamoring onto the mattress, Thomas quickly positions himself between her spread legs and undoes his shirt, casting it off to the side before leaning over her, so their faces are a mere inch apart. “So are you,” he smirks, sealing his words off with a searing kiss.

“Thomas,” Y/n croons when his lips travel to the column of her neck, hips bucking towards his in an unspoken plea. His response is a low hum as he nibbles on her skin. “Please,” she begs again, and he revels in her insistence; he’s had women long for him, but its different with Y/n. With Y/n, everything else fades to black, and they’re the only two people in the world. With Y/n, his reciprocated desire for her will always doubled;

No person has ever longed for another the way he yearns for Y/n.

“Patience,” he teases, hands taking their time as they appreciate the topography of her curves. By now, he can probably draw a map of her from memory; Thomas has a million pictures of her stowed in his mind and his fingers know the shape of her even when she isn’t in the room. There isn’t another body- or anything else- that he’s committed so well.

He can single out her laugh in a sea of chatter. Smell her perfume the minute she walks into a room filled with fragrant flowers.

Y/n’s glossy, burgundy nails dig into his back, leaving crescent shaped marks in their wake, while her bare heels press into his thighs. When Thomas’ lips reach her chest, he sucks purplish bruises into the swell of her breasts causing goosebumps to litter her otherwise silky skin.

His own desire strains against the rough fabric of his trousers, making them so tight that its hard to ignore. But Thomas’s determination to prolong his time with her triumphs all else; it's always been so peculiar to him, how half the pleasure of being with her came from just being with her. In her orbit, knowing she’s in the same room with him, touching him - choosing him when millions of other men would probably fall at her feet at a moment’s notice.

“Thomas,” she croons when he pushes her night dress up so his kisses can travel to the plane of her stomach. His fingers maintain a white knuckled grip on the fabric, and its probably the only thing keeping him sane enough to completely debauch her.

“Mmm?” he hums, mouth lingering right above her public bone, “Tell me what you want, darling.”

“You,” Y/n heaves, hips lifting off the bed, only for Thomas to force them down with a bruising grip. Her fingers, lithe and warm, thread through his hair, “I just want you.”

After peppering a series of feather-light kisses to the inside of her thighs, he works his way up her body again, eventually peeling the fabric over her head. “What?” She breathes when Thomas pauses, one elbow sunken into the mattress, holding him up over her while he cups her cheek with his free hand. He marvels at the softness of her skin beneath his touch, the way it feels like she's been conjured up by some combination of Japanese silk and gypsy magic. With every exhale, he can feel the tops of her bare breasts touching his chest, and Thomas can taste the wine from earlier on her breath.

She's real, she tangible, she's there.

And yet, most times, he can't believe that she's in his life.

“I'd do anythin’ for you, you know that?” He'd kill for her - he'd live for her.

His words make Y/n smile a little, that little twist of her full lips that makes his heart tick a little quicker. “What a politician you are,” reaching up, Y/n's thumb gently caresses the scar near his eye.

There's a little voice in his head that aches to argue; he would never use that hollow, politician's charm on her. He can't. Her eyes make it difficult to lie to her. But he's too concerned with….other endeavors to try to change her mind. Instead of arguing, Thomas catches her lips in a heady kiss, while Y/n clumsily reaches between them to undo his trousers, before using the front of her feet to shove them, along with his pants, down his legs

Unable to hold himself back for any longer, Thomas lines himself up with her entrance and pushes in. There's a moment of euphoria; a low groan that probably filters out of the room and a lewd moan that makes no effort to hide what they're doing.

Simply put, she feels like the closest to heaven he’ll ever get, and Thomas is perfectly fine with that.

If her body is the pearly gates, if her lips are Eden's fruit. If her fingers tracing patterns on his skin is grace from a god that has otherwise forgotten him, Thomas will take it with pleasure. In fact, he'll pray for it. To it.

“Fuck,” Thomas grunts, stirring a rough, albeit controlled, rhythm. With one arm curled around his back and the other hand clinging to his shoulder, Y/n presses her face to the side of Thomas’, alternating between kissing his jaw and drawing in audible, hitched breaths. The little noises that he’s able to extract never fails to inch him closer to release.

Simultaneously, the feel of him filling her up so well that it almost burns is exhilarating. Y/n can feel every vein running along his shaft, and each stroke ensures that Thomas hits the perfect spot. The friction he creates with each thrust makes her toes curl tightly and her hips reach for his, eager to match his pace.

Dragging her nails along his back, they tickle his nape before settling on the top of his head, so she can thread her fingers through his hair. “Thomas…..” she pants, breathless, “I'm-”

He doesn't let her finish, instead snatching her lips in a searing kiss. Her skin is hot, and Y/n’s legs, still wound around his hips, start tightening. Her vision goes white and her mind is reduced to a muddled mess when it happens;

Complete and unparalleled bliss.

No one can make her feel what Thomas does, wield her body the way he does.

Their mouths are still locked when she moans softly and he feels her walls clench around him.

Thomas’ strained grunt is accompanied by the rhythmic roll of his hips lapsing into harsh, jerked movements. Sliding his free hand down her side, he takes a bruising hold of her waist. He can feel her body quaking while his goes rigid. His ragged breaths tumble into her mouth between messy kisses and noses pressed together. As Thomas pours himself into her, every sound she makes is amplified, panting that matches the heavy rise and fall of his chest, the pitch in her inhale at the moment her back curves gracefully, and the slow rustle of sheets as she gives them a grounding tug.

Spent, Thomas gingerly detaches himself from Y/n and rolls onto his back, but not without his arm curled around her shoulders. She settles in the space between his arm and chest and stretches her arm out to drape it across his mid. He raises his hand to lazily thread his stocky fingers through her hair, and her eyes slip shut at the comforting sensation.

Oh, the things she’d give to fall asleep like that every night.

They stay tangled up like that for a while, but still not for nearly as long as either of them would prefer. The clock, in some odd corner of Thomas’ vast abode eventually reminds them of the late hour at the stroke of midnight, its familiar sound traveling to even the home’s most private quarters. With a sigh, Y/n shifts and presses her forehead to his side, “You should go,” she whispers.

Thomas’ response isn’t much, a rough hum of acknowledgement and his fingers trailing from her hair to stroke the center of her back. The pads of his fingers aren’t anything akin to the men that she usually surrounds herself with, they’re harsh and worn from having clawed their way out of Small Heath – and fighting to stay out.

“Go to sleep,” he eventually rasps, and she feels his lips on the top of her head for a moment. Y/n wants to protest; she likes to be awake when he leaves, if only so she can savor every last second of his presence. Soak him up, sear the image of him into her mind lest it be the last time she lays her eyes on him.

Because what they share is so fragile and so marred by recklessness and immorality that its a wonder its lasted so long.

Perhaps they're lucky. Or just too selfish to habour even a thread of guilt.

Thomas, on the other hand, usually prefers to slip away when Y/n is asleep. It's easier, he thinks, not having her arms tight around him when he reluctantly deserts her embrace, not having to look at her as he inches the door shut. He can maintain apathy when her hold is limp and her hair has fallen over her face; he can pretend she’s just another tryst and not the woman who has completely beguiled him. The one he’d swear himself to at a moment’s notice.

“Go,” Y/n urges after a stretch of steady, comfortable silence, “before she goes looking for you.”

Instead of making a move to get out of the bed, Thomas tightens his embrace, “I don’t care,” he returns in the same hushed tone, “let her look.” Let her do whatever she wants, its not like their marriage can get any worse than it already is.

“I care,” Y/n sits up, pulling the sheets over her chest. Freeing one of her hands, she touches the side of his face, and Thomas leans into her palm, “Lizzie is my friend. She’s a good friend.”

Licking his lips, Thomas sits up against the headboard, “if I told you to choose, would you?”

Y/n searches his eyes, trying to determine how serious he’s being. “In a heartbeat,” she promises earnestly, tipping her chin slightly before leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his lips. She pulls away before Thomas can deepen it, but his fingers return to her hair, keeping her face close to his. “But you don’t want that.”

“You always know what I want, eh,” Thomas scoffs sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I should go,” he determines, fingers curling in her hair slightly. When they kiss again, Y/n drops the blanket, pressing one hand to the center of his chest while her other lingers on his face. His arm goes around her back against, hand splayed on the center in a bid to keep her close. The kiss is deep and quickly devolves to a messy affair. His tongue slips past her teeth, exploring her mouth, and she's melting into him.

Neither of them are sure who pulls away first, but the moment is taunt with painful reluctance. His hand leaves her hair so Thomas can ghost his thumb over her plump, lower lip. “I should go,” he determines again, and Y/n shuffles away so he can get out of bed. Slumping against the tufted headboard, she watches as he gets dressed, pulling on articles of clothing as he finds them, before finally collecting his shoes in his hand. He doesn’t say anything as he leaves. In fact, Thomas doesn’t even look at her; he thinks if he does before he gets to the door, he simply won’t leave.

“Goodnight, Tom,” Y/n offers softly as he eases the door open, careful to not let it creak.

When he’s safely in the corridor, he peers at her through the four inch crack, “‘Night, Y/n.” He swears her eyes tun glassy as she holds his gaze, but he can’t be sure that isn’t just his hope that she wants him to stay as much as he wants to.

The door is finally shut with the most subtle of clicks, and Thomas spends the next handful of seconds staring up the hall, checking that the door to the master bedroom doesn’t open. It's really for Y/n, because he’s been on the receiving end of Lizzie’s threats long enough for them to roll off his back. Satisfied that he's in the clear, Thomas offers the door to the guest room one final, backwards glance before setting off on quiet steps, practically forcing himself to press forward.

There's a hollowness residing within him that yawns wider every time he leaves her, like a grave that gets deeper or a valley that stretches open. It's almost as if Y/n fills and overfills that gaping emptiness within him, and then, when she’s gone again, Thomas is worse off than before.

He needs her more than he did before.

Gripping shoes a little tighter, he summons the same resolve that kept him alive in the tunnels, and trudges to his room. The walk towards his room is long, and he swears he may need blinders, the type riders put on horses, to stop him from looking back. He just wants to see if she’s poking her head out of the room, the way she watches from the window when he leaves her flat. While he doesn’t think he can bear her eyes tonight, Thomas doesn’t want to miss the chance to look into them one more time, either.

When Thomas finally gets to the master bedroom, just as he opens the door, he gives in. He looks – but she isn’t there. Instead, he catches a glimpse of the door being pulled shut, the soft click echoing off soaring walls.

She’s gone, and now he must wait. For the next fix. The next hit. The next time she’s willing to lend him her time.

[novashelby]

His Beautiful~A Tommy Shelby Smut: 18+ only.

Pairing: TommyxFem!Reader

Prompt: They didn't send one, but I did use #59 from this list.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Some dub-con, rough smut, degrading language, spit, spanking. Maybe gaslighting?

Summary: Tommy and his new wife spend some special time together during their honeymoon. Tommy's the little bossy pants he usually is. Request by @elenavampire21.

A/N: Please, please for the love of it...please reblog and/comment. Like are so sweet and I am happy you are reading my stuff. But reblogs and comments help writers out.

He loved her. He had to have loved her, right? That’s the only reason he waited until marriage like she wanted. It was hard. A whole six months of watching her body sway as she walked. Each day he had been more and more eager, and his left hand was not cutting it. Of course, a visit to a whore house would have been satisfactory enough, but he promised her. Fucking promises! And since he loved her, right? He had to stay honest. Something Tommy Shelby struggled a bit with. 

The previous night had been their wedding. Just a small thing. It was his third after all and the older he got, the less he gave any care to frills and luxury. They were married in a small church and then after, joined their family for a meal and dance. Both were too tired to fuck after. But the next day was their honeymoon. He decided to take her to the countryside far from the city grit and pollution. She was a city girl, though, and when she hopped from the caravan, looking around the empty greenery, she cocked her head. Turning to him, she winced. “Oh, it’s….lovely?”

Tommy snorted, wiping his greasy hands with a dirty white cloth. They popped a wheel and he’d been fixing it the whole time she finished a nap. “You’re awake. We’ve been here for a couple of hours. I figure we can relax out here for a few days before heading back-”

“This is our honeymoon?” she asked, wanting clarification.

Tommy could read people very well, and she was no different. Stress lines tainted her beautiful face. A city girl like herself hardly could consider this a honeymoon, and he understood that. But he needed to get away, and as his wife, she should have understood his needs. “I can tell you are not happy,” he commented. “But this is where we are staying. The fresh air will do you good.” He walked over to her, softening his face a bit. Gently, he rubbed her cheek. “Besides, you know we are all alone out here?”

She gave him an unamused look, arms crossed. “Thomas-”

“Just you and I, me and you,” he whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on her forehead. She whined as he did so, turning her head. Sighing, he commented, “you’re a fucking brat. This is our first day as husband and wife, why the theatrics, hm?” 

“Because, Thomas! This is not a honeymoon,” she explained, motioning to the nothingness around her. To her, she was being completely reasonably annoying. But to him, she was being a selfish little brat. “This is a-”

“Shhh,” he said, wanting her to calm herself. He smiled, dragging his fingers down to her hips before bringing her in. “Don’t you understand, hm? You and I are alone out here, sweetheart. Just you and I.” 

“I know,” she pressed, still not pleased. But she was not getting his hints. 

“You are so innocent,” he teased, kissing her cheek, lingering there for a quick moment before dragging his lips up to her ear. He grinned, taking her lobe between his teeth, tugging teasingly. Appalled, she crouched her neck, wincing just a tad. 

“Thomas!” What he did next took her for a loop. His other hand found its way to her neck. Her instinct was to scream and gasp for all the air her lungs could suck in. Stuck in a mode of panic, she hardly realized he wasn’t choking her. His fingers only pressed lightly against her pulse. Her hand rested over his. Breath rapid, she asked, “what are you doing?” 

While preoccupied with the hold against her throat, he dragged his other hand between her legs. With no patience for anything getting in his way, he quickly bunched up her skirts and shoved his hand between her thighs, pressing up against her silk panties. Resting his forehead against hers, he peered down. Quietly with a sharp edge, he said, “trying to see. Does my little wife have any edge to her? Or is she always just going to be so…good.”

“Thomas!” she hissed, trying to pull his hand off of her crotch. “Thomas, we are outside. We can’t do this outside. What if someone sees?” 

“Who?” he chuckled. “The birds? Have you not been listening, it’s just you and I out here.” His fingers pressed a bit harder against her neck when she opened her mouth to protest. Her string of words came out as a pile of whimpers. Perhaps he was a bit selfish in what he wanted. A highly sexed man having to wait six months, that hardly equals patience. Of course, he pictured swooning her and spoiling her in the mix of the bedsheets. Making sure to kiss every aspect of her body, making sure she felt loved and adored. But in that moment, he just wanted to fuck. Any inkling of intimacy slipped away and the thought of making love seemed tedious. A little sliver of him felt guilty that her first time would be getting railed raw over rock. But maybe seeing as how much of a pain in the ass she has been, maybe it was her thing. A little pain and roughness. “Come on, beautiful,” he cooed, eying the lump of rocks just off to the side. “You are so beautiful…my beautiful wife.” She resisted against him, attempting to dig her heels into the wet ground.

“Outside?” she protested. “Please, Thomas…let’s go inside and do it.”

“Oh, but we will,” he chuckled, picking her up. She yelped loud enough to move the mountains in the far off distance. “Shh, shhh,” he told her, accompanied with a light smack to her behind. Despite her hesitations, he brought her to the rocks and sat her down. “Love, I want you to feel comfortable with me-”

“Thomas,” she warned, jaw tight, clearly not pleased with her new husband. “I’ve ruined my skirts! And look at my boots-”

“You married a Gypsy,” he pointed out. “The fuck I care about your skirts and boots. Now, we are on our honeymoon.” He slid from his suspender straps before his fingers started to work at his belt clasp. “And from what I recall, our honeymoon is to celebrate our marriage.” She looked up at him from her new seat, a mix of annoyance and admiration. 

“We have a mattress in the caravan, for fucks sake, Thomas,” she complained, but before she could get another word out, he picked her up and placed belly flat over the rock. She was slowly giving in as her walls broke down. “Mattress would have been better, but….” She sighed and positioned herself for him; ass arched and legs spread just enough. “I know you aren’t about to fuck me without any forepay-”

“Sweety,” he said, in a mocking tone as he bunched her skirt up over ass and gave it a love tap. “You’re a virgin. What do you know of foreplay? Hmm? Maybe you don’t get foreplay because you’re acting like a whiny little brat. Maybe I just want to use you.” He was teasing her of course, but his poor little wife had not an idea of his antics. Pouting, she looked back at him pathetically. Winking, his finger pulled down her panties while his other hand lazily stroked at his cock.

“That’s mean,” she accused, wiggling her behind a bit, feeling a pool of desperation build. Tommy glanced down at her arched ass, grinning to himself as he positioned his cock. “Warm me up, Tommy, please?” The tip of cock pressed against her entrance. 

“No,” he said, leaving it at that as he rested his chest against her back as he leaned over her. He watched as her fingers clung to anything she could, white knuckling. It was as if she was preparing for something painful. The tip pushed in and he rested there for a moment, gasping as her virgin walls broke around him. She sucked in her lips, muffling whatever moans wanted to come through. Reading her eyes, she was aroused. He could tell. His beautiful wife always loved his upper hand. He was sure she found it thrilling to fight against him. Pushing in further, he let out a long, deep throated groan. To steady himself, he slipped one hand under her, resting his palm against her left breast. His other found its home around her neck. “Good girl. You feel so good wrapped around me. I think you were made specially for me, you know that?” he breathed in her ear, ending his sentence with a teasing kiss. 

She whined, trying to inch forward to release the tension pain burning her lower half. It would have been nice if he prepped her. But that would require Tommy Shelby to be nice. To be nice and put his needs last. Unfortunately, if she wanted that, she married the wrong Shelby. “It hurts,” she told him.

“You’re fine,” he replied, in an attempt to dismiss her concerns. “It feels exactly how it should feel. It doesn’t hurt.” He left a trail of kisses along her jaw before meeting her lips. “Give me a kiss.” He was pleasantly surprised she didn’t fight him, reaching up a bit to place a soft peck to his lips. “Good girl. My beautiful wife. Look at me…I want to see your face.`` Their eyes connected. Teasingly, his index finger ran circles over her nipples. The sensation started off small until it crept up on her. He watched as her eyes became heavy and hooded. Just a simple touch like that had her clenching herself around him, sucking him in. “You like this.” 

“Thomas,” she gasped out, her hips slowly pulling away only to push up against him. In the midst of pleasure was still a little bit of pain, making her hiss through clench teeth. He started to slowly move with her, wondering if he’d even last long enough as it’d been too long since he had pussy. Especially a pussy as pretty and perfect as hers.

“What if,” he started, a chuckle mixed with a desperate, feral grunt, lacing his words. “What if your’re just a fucking hole, hm?” His words were like a poisonous berry; sweet, but deadly to her emotions. Just a hole? Her eyes rolled back before she even could comprehend how much she liked it. He picked up the speed, his balls lightly bouncing off her puffy clit. “Only a fucking hole.” His index and ring finger slipped between her lips, needy to hear those choking and gurgling noises. Muffled, she tried to tell him something, but he didn’t care. “Shut up,” he told her, closing his eyes, lost in his thrusts that became increasingly fast. “Just a hole…that’s all you are to me. A hole I can breed and own.” He pulled back and paused before slammed himself against her, letting out a loud moan. “Fuck! Yeah? You like that! Nod for me….” She nodded, whimpering. Her face was getting beat red with insults and abuse, but it wasn’t a complete lie. She did like it. She liked how feral he was in wanting to fuck her. 

His pace became fast and steady, as his pleasure built up. The air mixed with their moans and spewed, incomprehensible words. “My pleasure is your fucking pleasure,” he continued. “You like this…you like being a…fuck…ah! You like being a filthy wife for me.” He continued to drill the thought process into her as his thrusts become uneven and ragged. “Take it…fucking take me!” His hands scratched down her sides before gripping her hips, fingers digging into her sensitive flesh. 

“Tommy!” she groaned out, trying to meet his pace by slamming back her hips. She threw back her head, eyes rolling back. “Shit! More-I want more…rub my clit.” She pleaded for him to pleasure her. It was a need. But he refused.

“No,” he forced out, breaths hitched and uneven. “Fuck…fuck, baby. My wife, such a perfect cunt.” With one last slam, he held himself there, feeling his orgasm take over him. Panting, he laid over her, running kisses on her clothed shoulder. “My beautiful wife,” he got out one last time before sliding off. “Come on,” he cooed, pulling at her legs. She was so limp and weak, legs shaking. “Turn over, baby.” She was too faded to argue, simply going limp for him to turn her over. “Let me look,” he whispered, kneeling down to study between her legs. It was beautiful; red and fucked with a line of of cum seeping out. Without warning, he got in close and stuck out his tongue, pressing it against her pussy, tasting their mixed cum. She was anticipating something erotic, feeling at her breasts and getting into the rhythm of rolling her hips against his tongue. Unfortunately for her, he stopped as soon as he started. It wasn’t meant to pleasure her, but to get her right on the edge. To be at his mercy. He mounted over her and gripped her, pushing her mouth open before spitting in her mouth. “Good girl, my beautiful wife,” he said, watching it pool. She swallowed it, wincing. Sweetly, he kissed her lips with a smile. “My beautiful wife, I love you…and thank you for humoring my needs. Tonight, it will be your turn and I will make you very, very happy.”

She whacked him playfully with a pout. “You better. You just spit in my fucking mouth!”

He laughed and pinched her chin. “I’ll do it again, y’know? If you don’t watch yours!”

[pacifymebby]

What would each peaky boy be like with a wife who owns a bakery, one who pops round to meetings with fresh cakes and treats and stuff

This is a really cute request and really feeds my dream of having a bakery one day

Tommy

🌿 your bakery is quite small and easy to miss but once Tommy knows it's there tucked down a side street, pretty much just a hatch in the wall, he never goes a day without visiting

🌿 Always, no matter how busy he is, will take the time to stop by even if only for a second or two to say hello and pick up something to eat. You think he must really love your baking and he does think your breads the best he's ever had however, that's not the reason he stops by every day.

🌿 You'd joke about how he's going to eat you out of heart and home if he carries on like this and he'd very simply say, "Marry me love, then I won't have to will I..." Of course he's only teasing but the blush it paints on your cheeks is priceless and well, he does often wonder what it would be like to marry you.. no harm in putting the idea in your head.

🌿 He says the same thing every time you tease him for stopping by, which you do at least three times a week. It isn't that you're ungrateful for the business it's that you don't understand how a man as busy as Tommy Shelby has time to visit your little bakery every day and you don't understand why he'd want to.

🌿 this little routine, you teasing him, him making that joke, you blushing and going shy, carries on for months and months, it drags on so long that all your friends are certain he's not really joking, that perhaps Birmingham's most infamous has taken a liking to more than just your bread.

🌿 One day when he says it you smile, "if you keep saying that Mr Shelby one day I might just take you seriously..." And he pauses, mouth caught in a half smile, hands in his pockets as causal as you like he looks you up and down to work out whether you're teasing him. "And what would you say if you did?"

🌿 When you're married he'd help you set up a bigger bakery, hires you staff to help you run it, but you always keep your little shop too because that hatch in the wall holds a special place in both your hearts.

🌿 Whenever you think up a new recipe or you're experimenting with new flavours Tommy makes sure to be interested in what you're doing, listening to you when you tell him about your troubles "Thing is I don't know if it's salt I need, to bring out the sweetness, or if I'm just not using enough sugar and then there's the trouble with the Cherry jam it's too... Too..." "Jammy?" He'd tease, "wait no, too cherry flavoured eh, that it love?"

🌿 will be the first to try anything new recipe you've baked and will always give you an honest answer, unless somethings truly awful, then he won't tell you quite how bad it is because he doesn't want to break your heart.

🌿 He will try anything and everything you put in front of him but he has to admit his favourites are the more savoury treats you bake, anything with cheese is an instant hit with Tommy and sometimes, when he's had one of those weeks where he's stressed out, hardly eating at all, living off coffee whiskey and cigarettes, one of your cheese buns is the only thing that can tempt him to take his spectacles off for a moment, come out of his head and back down to earth, back to you.

🌿 Whenever there's a family meeting you always want to use it to get opinions on your baking so any new recipes are prepared specially for the family and you get in a real huff if anyone refuses to try your food... And Tommy always warns them in advance, threatening his brothers to "be fuckin nice yeah, try the cakes, be fuckin nice eh?"

🌿 Sometimes he brings Charlie into the bakery to see you and when you can tell that Tommy's particularly stressed you offer to take care of the young boy. He enjoys baking with you, making a mess with all the flour and sugar. He's your number one taste tester and every time he's in you get him to pick his favourite so that you can advertise whichever items he recommends as "recommended by little Charlie Shelby"

🌿 It sort of turns you into a bit of s matriarch within the family. Whenever anyone's having a party, whenever there's a birthday to prepare for, you're always kept busy baking cakes and sweet treats for the whole family. And when Charlie tells his cousins about the fun he has at the bakery they all want a turn decorating cakes and iced buns with you...

🌿 Tommy definitely falls in love with you a little more every time he drops into your little bakery in the late afternoon to pick his son up, to come face to face with your flour dusted features and your bright smile, watching you suck a little icing from your fingertip to test the sweetness.

🌿 He will almost always catch your hip in his hand, look down at you with longing in his eyes and murmur something sweet like "give us a try of that eh love..." sucking the icing straight from your pinky.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has been coming to your bakery for a very long time, he remembers when your mother used to run things, remembers her Challah recipe by heart.

🐻 He would often turn up early in the morning before you were open, let himself in anyway and lean, white sleeves pushed up to the elbows against the counter waiting for you to turn up. "Thought you might fancy a little company this mornin miss y/l/n..." The first time he shows you're shocked and you can't hide it. You know he's infamous, a violent criminal who promises nothing but trouble... but you also know he's the baker of Camden town and that your mother was always quite fond of him...

🐻 So you can't turn him down. Not that anyone in their right mind would turn Alfie Solomons down...

🐻 You spend lots of time baking together in that kitchen, it's Alfie's favourite place to be, holed up cosy amid the yeasty smell of baking bread and the sweet scent of fresh pastries. He enjoys your company, enjoys getting close to you, using excuses such as "y'see ziskeit your problem yeahs, that you ain't leanin into it enough, you've gotta kneed with your whole body right, like this..." standing behind you, arms around your waist, kneeding the dough for you with you trapped between him and the counter watching him work.

🐻 You also have lots of little tiffs in the kitchen, him winding you up by putting things away in the wrong places or reorganising cupboards and shelves so that you don't know where any of your belongings are. Him getting tetchy with you when you insist you know a better recipe for something than he does.

🐻 However despite your tiffs Alfie never lets you talk yourself down... Whenever you have a new idea he's always quick to tell you you're a genius. Always calling you the cleverest girl in Camden town, always dramatically complimenting you. Even if something goes wrong, even if a cake isn't perfect or the bread you've baked doesn't quite rise properly he will hush any of your complaints with one finger to your lips, that contemplative frown on his brow

🐻 "Now just you mind what you're about to say yeah my little ziskeit, just you be very careful what words come out that pretty little mouth of yours next yeah because I've got somethin to say right... I've got something to say... This here yeah, it's bread right but... It don't feel right just calling it bread yeah, cause this here ain't any old bread, this bread right it's a fuckin work of art my little ziskeit, this bread right, it's a masterpiece, one of them modern wonders of the fuckin world right... So just you think very carefully yeah about what you're about to say..."

🐻 "Cause I won't put up with no bread slander today right, I've made up my mind and I just won't tolerate it..."

🐻 You teaching him how to delicately decorate cakes and pastries with ornate little designs. Him getting frustrated because his hands are too big and his fingers are a little too clumsy to master the finer details. You hugging him, kissing his cheek when you reassure him that his gingerbread men aren't "fackin elephant man ugly"

🐻 Your flower stained blush mirroring his flower stained blush when you both realise what you've just done.

🐻 When he's busy working all he wants is a visit from you and he always hopes you'll come down with something from the bakery. He literally sits there in his office pining for you and your "delights" as he calls them, and sometimes when you're late or you can't visit he sits there getting more and more grumpy, poor Ollie has to try and lighten the mood but just gets grumbled at.

🐻 And when you do come to visit Alfie at work he gets jealous when you bring stuff for the workers too and he chides you for "spoiling" them. He only does this because he loves the cheeky smile you give him as you sit down in his lap and offer him something sweet to try, "Don't worry Alfie I didn't forget about you..."

🐻 When he flees to Margate you open a bakery together on the seafront, he tends to hide away in the kitchen getting jealous when local boys come in and flirt with you, occasionally when he's feeling particularly protective he'll come out to spook them.

🐻 but for the most part that little bakery on the sea front is your own little slice of heaven, back in London he'd fed you the idea whenever you were getting worried about him and his business. Whenever you started to fear he was in too deep, making too much trouble for himself.

🐻 And now he's finally made good on that promise to you. It's just you, him and Cyril living a peaceful life together in Margate. The smell of freshly baked bread in the mornings, spending evenings together preparing the dough for the next day's batches.

🐻 You've definitely thrown a handful of flower at him multiple times, definitely "pied" him at least once for being a grumpy old martyr.

🐻 He's definitely given you that look, beckoned you over and instructed you to "clean up your mess now ziskeit, reckon you've had your fun with the fuckin creme patissiere..."

🐻 Scoops up said creme patissiere with his two fingers and feeds it to you, won't smile until your lips are closed round his fingers, your eyes locked with his.

Arthur

🍂 Sorry Arthur bby but...

🍂 I feel like he's a really messy eater, like he chews really gross and definitely talks with his mouth full... Crumbs everywhere, always spilling cream or jam down his shirt...

🍂 Which means you have to instruct him on how to eat your cakes and usually clean him up afterwards too. You have to break a piece of cake off for him and place some in his mouth giving him instructions "right close and chew..."

🍂 But no sooner has he closed his mouth and begun to chew is he forgetting himself again, opening his mouth to tell you how fucking lovely it is and you'd have to hush him up.

🍂 "Fuck me darlin this is fuckin delicious, fuckin heavenly..." he starts getting crumbs everywhere, you're watching exasperated but endeared all the same as he gets crumbs all over the floor and himself. You know there's nothing you can do about this.

🍂 You can't help laugh at him, he's so daft sometimes, doesn't seem to have any idea how funny he looks... But you get a cloth and wipe the cream from his mustache, giggling at him, him chuckling along too when he realises what he's done.

🍂 "Sorry love I can't help it, they taste so good I forget me manners..." "Excuses, excuses.." you tut only teasing him. He actually blushes.

🍂 Arthur loves your baking so much that whenever there's a family meeting he all but insists you bring sweet treats along for everyone.

🍂 "Please darlin I'm beggin you, how are we gonna survive Tommy's fuckin speeches without somethin to eat... He'll have us in there all night with nothin to eat... We'll starve if you don't bring us somethin sweet to eat..." he's so dramatic but you always comply, just rolling your eyes and teasing him. "God Arthur anyone would think you haven't just eaten five of these..." You grin packing tins full of pastries to take with you...

🍂 But he can't help it, he loves your baking and he loves you, thinks the sun shines out of you and your gifted hands so he wants to show off his talented girl and her delicious creations... Upon arriving he will very loudly announce that everyone needs to "fuckin shut up and listen to my Y/N cause she's brought everyone some new cakes to try and they're fuckin delicious..."

🍂 He'll make everyone try one, even Tommy and he'll glare at his brother until he says something nice about your baking.

🍂 "We're fuckin blessed right, to have such a fuckin talented baker in the family..."

🍂 You try to teach him to bake but honestly, he's clumsy, he makes a mess, he can't concentrate on the recipe because he's standing close to you and instead of having his hands in the mixing bowl he just keeps trying to grab you and hug you, can't keep his hands or his lips off you for long enough to get through even the most simple of cookie recipes.

🍂 Honestly if ever you've got something important to bake, a wedding or birthday cake, new stock for the shop you have to lock him out of the kitchen until you're done because he's too much of a distraction.

🍂 You have the fear whenever you're working on something delicate, you have to put signs on the doors reminding Arthur not to slam the doors when he comes home. When you hear him coming you brace yourself, hovering round your delicate creation, wincing when he forgets about not slamming the door.

🍂 "Arthur please my love!" "I know I know I'm sorry sweetheart I'll be careful" he says hands in the air all surrender and sweet, making an effort to tip toe and be careful, forgetting three seconds later much to your despair.

John

🌼 John gives me low-key earth sign vibes, not sun sign earth sign vibes but something else, like a moon perhaps? Anyway my point with that is that John definitely has a love of home comforts, mundane, little luxuries... He likes being spoiled with sweet treats. Likes coming home to find you baking with the little ones.

🌼 I mean he really loves it... There's nothing better than finishing a long day at the betting shop surrounded by drunk, rowdy men, to stop by the bakery on his way home only to find one of his children behind the counter, standing on a stool to help you serve customers. He can hear his other kids giggling in the kitchen and he practically jumps over the counter in excitement to see them and all the mischief they're getting up to whilst your backs turned.

🌼 Him asking for one of your finest cakes, and then when Katy holds her hand out to take his money he grins and says "Well y'see kitty my little love, I spent my last penny on flowers for your mammy so Daddy was hoping he could pay with a kiss eh?"

🌼 When she agrees she's very cheeky, she sighs dramatically and says "fine but just this once..." and when he scoops her up and kisses her cheek about to take the cake from her hand she holds it back and says "one more for mammy."

🌼 So he slips behind the counter and slinks his arm around your waist pulling you away from your work to give you a very dragged out, much needed kiss. The kind he really shouldn't be giving you in front of the customers... Not when there's a queue.

🌼 You shoo him away so that you can get back to work telling him to go and sort his little hellraisers out in the kitchen.

🌼 But John doesn't want you to "get back to work" and so once he's rounded the terrors up and helped them clean up their mess in the kitchen he's right back ar your side, gruffly announcing to the line of customers that the bakeries closed and it's time to go home. Each and every one of your attempts at protest is silenced with a kiss and when you open your mouth to argue with him about it again he takes one of the cakes from the counter and puts it in your mouth to silence you so that in your shock there's nothing for you to do but take a bite, chew and cover your mouth to hide your messy giggle.

🌼 "Can't bloody believe you John Shelby! You're a bloody n..." "Irresistible, devilishly handsome, doting husband? I know love you don't need to tell me..." he teases taking the cake from your hands and helping himself to a bite. "Come along flower, we're all waiting for you, we wanna go home..."

🌼 And when faced with John and the wide doe eyes of all your little ones looking like angels now that dad's come and got them into shape... Well you can hardly refuse them.

🌼 Uses "Teach me how to bake love..." as a premise to get some time with you whilst you're working, his minds really not on baking though he is thinking of putting one in the oven...

🌼 At least one of your children have been conceived in that kitchen...

🌼 When you bring the children with you to family meetings so they can give everyone the cupcakes they made, John gives his brothers warning looks like "you will eat these very girly lookin cupcakes and you will tell my girls they're the best thing you've ever eaten!" he makes a big song and dance of telling everyone how amazing they taste.

🌼 Has started food fights in the kitchen with the kids. Has started food fights with his brothers at family meetings because he wasn't satisfied with Tommy's "wow Katy these are really good..."

🌼 Has definitely defused an argument with you by putting a handful of batter in your hand and instructing you to throw it at him. "C'mon flower, you're pissed off with me ain't you, fuckin throw it if you think I deserve it..." then being shocked and a little bit wounded when you actually do throw it... Arms around you immediately play wrestling with you to get his revenge.

🌼 And this usually ends up with the two of you kissing, wiping cake mix from one another's faces, closing the kitchen door so that your customers can't hear how you really resolve a fight...

🌼 Always making special requests, his favourite things you bake are your berry pies and he gets such a huff on when you inform him that you can't make anymore because the berries in question are out of season anymore. "Fuck the seasons.." gets genuinely cross he can't peaky blinder style intimidate the literal seasons.

Bonnie

🍀 It's unsurprising that Bonnie has quite the appetite considering a) he's a growing lad, and b) he's a boxer, always training, always exhausting himself in the ring...

🍀And yet once he finds your bakery, he's never too tired to stop in after a long day training, and you can't deny you don't look forward to seeing that oh so slightly mischievous smile every evening... so much so that sometimes you stay open just waiting for him to drop by.

🍀 He's always very sweet to you, always leans on the counter chatting away to you whilst he eats the sweet buns you save especially for him... It takes him a little while to realise that's what you're doing but when he works it out, that you hold treats back for him and you even stay open a little later waiting just for him he becomes a butterfly filled mess. Feels really proud, starts cheekily calling you things like "my favourite girl"

🍀then he starts stopping in early too, gets up at the crack of dawn just so he can drop by your bakery on his way to the boxing gym. He uses the excuse that he's hungry, that he needs to fuel himself up for the day but really it's because he wants to see more of you. Wants to get you alone.

🍀He joins you in the kitchen, sometimes helping you out, sometimes just sitting on the counter admiring you whilst you work, being a pest getting his fingers in the jam, pinching the strawberries you've carefully halved to top your pastries.

🍀 You're constantly swatting his hands away and threatening to kick him out but by now you both know you never will. That little crush you thought you might have on the young boxer has flourished and you wake up every morning looking forward to seeing him. In the hours between him leaving in the morning and returning to you after training your little bakery feels so empty and lonely without him.

🍀When he pinches some cherries from the top of one of your pies you gasp in frustration about to give him a scolding but when he sees you, your cheeks flushed that glow of annoyance in your eyes he can't help chuckling at you, telling you he's sorry, saying "c'mere dove, I'll share..." youre about to refuse when you catch the pining look in his eyes, the way he looks at you with such a quiet pining... it lights sparks inside you, leaves your heart racing, makes you feel very forgiving.

🍀So you give in and roll your eyes, say fine, come on share then... and though you expect him to place a cherry in your palm instead he plucks one from the stem and pushes it to your lips, watching you breathlessly as you take it in your mouth and sink your teeth into it. A little juice escapes your mouth and stains your lips and the corner of your mouth deep, sweet red.

🍀And he leans in without even thinking about it, kisses the corner of your mouth to catch the juice before it can trickle further and make a mess of your pretty face.

🍀You don't get much baking done after that and the cherry pie youd been labouring over is left forgotten about on the side whilst you and Bonnie get thoroughly lost in eachother.

🍀From then on Bonnie stops in on you twice a day every day, he walks you to and from the bakery morning and night and quite often makes up excuses to bring you back to the caravans at night. The first time you meet his family you're so nervous, wanting to impress them, the way Bonnie's been spending all his time outside the gym "elsewhere" people have begun to talk and so everyone is curious to meet the girl who has stolen his heart.

🍀You bake plenty of delicious buns and breads to gift them trying to make a good first impression and Bonnie is insistent that you really shouldn't have done, that they'll love you regardless of whether you bribe them with food, but secretly he just wants to keep you and your baked goods all to himself. "If everyone knows how good these are they'll all be coming here and then there'll be none left for me!" He says taking another bite from his second cinnamon bun of the afternoon.

🍀He stops talking however when you catch the stray icing hes got on his cheek and suck it off your finger, "Don't be daft Bonnie, I'll always save enough for you."

🍀He goes foraging for berries and fruits, always bringing you wild herbs he's picked that he thinks you'll be able to do something good with, sprigs of lavender and such to weave into your more intricate designs. His favourite thing however is to convince you to close up shop for the day and go foraging with him, taking you out into the country on the back of his pony, showing you all the best places to find your favourite herbs and flowers.

🍀 Pulling you down into the long grass beneath the trees, cradling you in his lap after a long walk, smothering you in kisses and affection.

Isaiah

🐀 Being the quiet, earthy homebody that you are you're not exactly Isaiah's type. He wouldn't even have met you had it not been for Michael dragging him out to your bakery one morning, insisting that you bake the best pastries in town.

🐀 And at first Isaiah is cynical, "fuckin pastries for breakfast are you soft lad, you eat fuckin pastries for breakfast... Them toffs who raised you really mess with your head didn't..." he's still taking the piss out of Michael when they walk into your bakery but one look at you steals the end of his sentence straight from his lips.

🐀 Because even with a light dusting of flour over your nose, your cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, stray hairs escaping your pretty little hair scarf, he thinks youre the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and suddenly he's swallowing all his snide remarks.

🐀 and suddenly he's a little embarrassed, a little uncertain of himself because he's realised he's out of his depth when he wants to charm you. You're so different from the other girls in his life that he just doesn't know what to say to you.

🐀 "Would you like to try something sir?" You ask, your softness literally melting Isaiah. Michael is just sniggering a little smug because he'd known this would happen all along. This was his plan all along.

🐀 And then Isaiah realises that if he plays up to being clueless you will give him all the attention he desires offering for him to try different things, explaining what each item is...

🐀 You're surprised when Isaiah comes back the next day without Michael, you honestly weren't expecting to ever see him again.. it was clear to you that the bars and clubs were more his scene, that he'd choose whiskey and dancing over tea and cake anyday... But clearly Isaiah has his heart on the best of both worlds, he goes out at night with the peaky lads, raises hell and then visits you to see the soothing sight of your angel face every morning.

🐀 His curiosity impresses you though and every morning you pick something out special for him to try... You've heard what he gets up to on his Saturday nights and on Sunday morning you make sure you've got just the right cure for his sore head and jaded eyes.

🐀 Then one morning he doesn't show and you begin to worry about him, when Michael drops by you ask after his friend and though at first Michael laughs, giddy with mischievous excitement when he realises his friends been visiting the sweet little baker every morning... Then however he tells you Isaiah's in the hospital, got caught up in some unpleasant business. He doesn't tell you it's Peaky Blinders business but you know what he means...

Michael

🐀 And you're horrified to learn that the charming Peaky boy you'd grown rather fond of is hurt, so you beg Michael to take you to see Isaiah in the hospital. Michael genuinely can't hide his amusement as you busy yourself making up a basket of sweet and savoury treats for Isaiah, he's just watching you fuss over the hardened peaky lad, can't wait to rip the piss out of his friend who's clearly got an admirer.

🐀 And when you turn up at the hospital placing the basket down at Isaiah's bedside he's shocked... A little embarrassed at the way his attachment to you has been revealed so dramatically. But he's also touched, also beginning to realise how nice it is to have some consistency, how much he loves having someone so homely and comforting to take care of him.

🐀 So he invites you to stay, tells Michael to piss off and he lets you feed him one of the sweet buns you brought him. He's being extra charming, flirting with you, teasing you for your having visited him... "Anyone would think you were me girlfriend coming here an spoilin me like this darlin..."

🐀 You're speechless, you don't know what to say to him but you get very flustered and he thinks that's adorable so he puts you out of your misery very quickly, "can't say I'd mind that me like, havin you as me girlfriend... Lookin after me when I've been through the wars..." "If you want to be my boyfriend Isaiah Jesus you'll have to stop all this scrapping... I don't want to spend every Sunday in the hospital with you..."

🐀 But of course it's not the last time Isaiah winds up in the hospital and every time he does you bring him a basket of sweet treats... It makes him rather popular with the rest of the peaky boys who start dropping in on him much more often so that they can pinch treats from that basket when he isn't looking.

🐀 He asks you to teach him how to bake but much like John he can't keep his hands off you for long enough to learn. He does have quite nimble hands though and so eventually he gets very good at plaiting bread dough with you.

🐀 He's always bragging to Michael and Bonnie about you, he'll bring something from the bakery down to the Shelby offices or the boxing gym just so that he can eat it slowly taunting them about how good it is. "Ah ah boys hands off, my girl made this one just for me..."

☘️ You're so stubborn though he realises this is an argument he's not going to win so eventually he settles for a compromise. You can keep your bakery, keep your little business as long as he can be involved somehow. So he insists on helping with your accounts and being involved in the financial side of things... which you're really rather pleased about as you've never liked running the accounts, numbers aren't your friend and you find it so dull being stuck at a desk when all you want is to be in the kitchen.

☘️ Isn't happy that his girl has a job... he should be able to provide for both of you, he earns enough to spoil you rotten and yet you still insist upon working in that bakery.

☘️ But before you met Michael that bakery was your whole life, you've worked so hard to have a bakery all of your own, to have a business that belongs to you, to be able to make a living from something you love and you're not about to give that up for Michael just because he doesn't understand how much your work means to you...

☘️ And when Michael gets involved with the bakery and you begin to work at it together to grow the business you start trying to use it as a pitch to convince him to go straight, to leave his brothers corruption behind and settle for a humble but comfortable life, a safe life with you.

☘️ Of course that never works, Michael has ideas beyond his station, he likes the luxury which comes with being a gangster, he's enamoured by the glamour and fame which comes with being a Peaky Blinder...

☘️ Instead what ends up happening is that your bakery gets dragged into the Shelby business... When the lads hear about the delicious treats you bake they start coming up with excuses to hold their business meetings in your kitchen where they have access to all the delightful treats you bake fresh from the oven. But they're all so charming and Michael never lets them get up to any trouble so you grow quote fond of having them around.

☘️ You're very dedicated to your craft and Michael gets frustrated when sometimes he feels you pay more attention to bread than to him. He will tell you he's taking you out for dinner, ask you to be ready by seven and then find that you aren't even home... When he goes to find you at the bakery youre dusted head to toe in flower, nowhere near suitably dressed up to go to some fancy restaurant.

☘️ And you always look so genuine when you gasp and apologise for having lost track of time, when you start ranting about how you were just desperately trying to perfect this recipe, that you'd tried one idea and almost set fire to the kitchen so had had to start again, then you'd tried this other idea and it was almost right but not quite and that well, you really just wanted to perfect it so that you could bring it home for him to try because you wanted it to be perfect for him...

☘️ Well he thinks you're the sweetest girl in the world and he can't stay mad at you for very long. He loves that at the end of all that you were actually thinking about him all along, trying to bake the perfect treat just for him... He loves that you wanted it to be perfect for him, it makes him feel really special.

☘️ "Ah well never mind eh love," he sighs taking your cheeks in his hands to brush the flower from your face and kiss your nose, "the corrinthian can wait eh, got everything I need right here..."

☘️ He'll even try to help you with your projects sometimes even though he really doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He'll do it for you, just as long as no one else is around to see him doing some "real work"

☘️ Loves being spoilt by you, loves that you value his opinion above everyone else's. Gets a little wounded when you want to take something to a family meeting to ask everyone to try because "my opinion not good enough for you now love?"

☘️ You always have to pacify him with a kiss and a reminder that his opinion is of course the most important.

Taglist:

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbywhore

@kas3ylovesyou

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

@call-sign-shark

@only-malala

@liliac-dreamer

@impossibleheartflower

@mollybegger-blog

[anxiousnerdwritings]

I was thinking the same thing about the Shelbys lmao !!!

I headcanon'ed that Percy was the one to emotionally raise Weasley!Reader because the Reader is the absolute youngest of the seven sons so Molly overlooked him as she fussed over Ginny and tried to straighten out the Twins or chased after Ron and Harry Potter for so many years and Arthur was to busy with work but Percy saw they were special and could really be something one day and didn't want it squandered by bad influences and poverty.

Percy graduated the summer Weasley!Reader got the letter and had already started at the Ministry of Magic but picked up a second, side job to save up money so Weasley!Reader wouldn't have to go to school with hand-me-downs.

It drives jealousy in Ron and the Twins but Percy merely reasons that the hand-me-downs were literally falling apart by the time they got to Weasley!Reader and Molly tries to peace-keep by asking why Percy wouldn't spread the money around so each child could get one or two things new instead of just the Reader and Percy looks blankly before repeating himself, stating that he wouldn't have his son brother go to school with supplies that are literally falling apart because they've seen seven other siblings and, once again, are literally falling apart, woman do you hate your sons that much?

And that's just how it goes each following year, Percy taking Weasley!Reader shopping no matter how much Molly tries to fix the hand-me-downs. He does bring the others gifts during holidays and birthdays but it becomes clear to the older siblings the Percy dotes on Weasley!Reader like a father would and they sort of just observe for a time and realize that Molly neglects the Reader emotionally, maybe even becoming mean sometimes because of the summer shopping sprees, and Percy is the one stepping in for the Reader so they don't really say anything about it anymore

One summer when puberty hits Weasley!Reader like a hexed broomstick, Percy takes his boy to a designer clothing place and buys him an outrageously expensive fitted, three-piece suit, waving off the costs because at this point he's raising high in the Ministry of Magic, surpassing their father, in both position and pay, so it's okay.

"Stick with me, brother, and you'll have a higher standard of life one day too."

And despite Percy blaming Lestrange!OC!Daughter for corrupting Weasley!Reader it was really this moment right here that drove the Reader into becoming a criminal because it was fast, easy and fun money.

Lestrange!OC!Daughter makes him stop wearing English suits and instead start wearing French suits once they become romantically involved since she's French. He still wears the original suit Percy bought him from time to time though. And the higher ups the work with him are always adoring beautiful French or Italian suits because it becomes like an unspoken dress code.

Fleur always compliments criminal!Weasley whenever seen in the French suits, maybe even recognizing the craftsmanship and complimenting his taste although she rotates between fluent French and broken English and then gets ten times more excited when criminal!Weasley responds in perfect French with the hopes of easing her anxiety a bit as she struggles to get her point out, maybe even with a Parisian accent, because his beloved taught him, and it makes Molly ten times angrier, especially when Fleur and Lestrange only exclusively speak to each other in French, forming a strong alliance because of Molly's obvious dislike of both of them.

I could even imagine Weasley!Reader being Ginny’s twin, therefore adding even more to him being neglected in favor of his sister. But he and Ginny are very close and even she hates how their mother doesn’t even look twice at the Reader cause she’s so focused on Ginny. I also, really love the idea of Percy basically raising the Reader, mainly emotionally but I could see him picking up the slack when Molly takes to rocking baby!ginny more then she does baby!Reader. Or Percy stepping in to take over baby!Reader’s nightly feedings cause Molly has all her attention on baby!Ginny and ensuring she gets taken care of first cause she’s her precious babygirl and Arthur is working a late night. Just the thought of Percy feeling a desperate need to take on physically caring for his youngest baby brother because he can’t trust his mother not to forget about the Reader cause she has such tunnel vision on finally having her babygirl. Percy literally ends up raising the Reader himself through a majority of his upbringing and even then Molly doesn’t acknowledge it.

I could imagine Percy going as far as opening an entire secret vault at Gringotts just for the money he’s already saved for the Reader and continues to save for his precious youngest baby brother who deserves to have something for himself. Whereas the Reader takes up being a criminal to financially provide for his entire family, Percy takes to working himself to the bone for his youngest brother and he happily goes about it too.

Percy spoiling the Reader whenever he can meanwhile the Reader has never asked him for anything, Percy just freely gives it to him case it’s what he wants his brother to have. He knows his brother is special, special in a way that only Percy can see and he fully intends to make way for his brother to fucking shine. Now that doesn’t mean Percy doesn’t love and care for his other siblings because of course he does, but the Reader is different. The Reader needs him more than any of the rest of their siblings ever have and Percy will be damned if he isn’t there for him.

I could see Weasley!Reader maybe coming to a point of realizing what all Percy has done for him and wanting to repay him so he ends up doing some illegal stuff to get the money to do something nice for his older brother for once and becoming addicted to how easy and fun it was in the end. Given how much younger the Reader is in this scenario I could see his reasoning to becoming a criminal being a bit more selfish, like there’s still a part of him that wants to support his family but not so much his mother or father, only his siblings. Like, If they need anything the Reader would happily help them out cause he has the means to in more ways then one, but if Molly especially needed something the Reader wouldn’t be moving too fast, if at all, to lend a helping hand.

Also, I could wholeheartedly see Percy taking the Reader out of the Burrow once he’s graduated and saved up enough money to get a small flat or something where he and the Reader can live comfortably. At this point, Percy has just taken it upon himself to care for the Reader entirely so that’s exactly what he’s going to do. When Percy inevitably finds out about the Reader’s criminal activities I could see there being a moment of him asking himself where he went wrong in being up his youngest sibling. He’d blame himself entirely for doing something wrong for the Reader to end up down this path. But then the Reader divulges the whole entirety of the empire he’s built himself and it’s then that Percy realizes that no he didn’t go wrong, he didn’t go wrong at all. Percy would still become very involved in the Reader’s business as said before. He’ll utilize his power and position in the Ministry after so many years of moving up the ladder to further aid and protect his brother all the more.

I absolutely love the idea of Lestrange!Daughter, Bellatrix, Fleur, Narcissa and Andromeda all conversing in French together, especially when Molly is around cause she knows damn well they’re all taking shit about her and they very much are doing just that. It would enrage Molly all the more when the Reader joins the conversations, talking in fluent French that she didn’t even know he knew. At first she thinks the Reader is defending her and their family from the French speaking women but eventually she comes to the conclusion that that’s not what’s happening at all. It certainly doesn’t help that when she asks the Reader what they all were talking about he always answers with something vague, and she knows full well that’s bullshit.

I think Lestrange!Daughter and Fleur would be very good friends, even if they don’t really interact too much outside of the family but they most definitely gang up when they’re around Molly. Also, I think Weasley!Reader would be very close to Fleur in a platonic way of course. After all he was probably the first one in the family to truly befriend her when she got into a relationship with Bill and not judge or hate her like his mother and sister did. But he also wasn’t completely captivated with her because of her being part Veela either, fortunately cause he already had Lestrange!Daughter by his side.

[runnning-outof-time]

A (Debatably) Lovely Dinner | Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby & Daughter!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) has her family over for a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. Her father and uncles tell her that it tastes lovely...but are they actually thinking that?

Warnings: drinking, language

Word Count: 1773

A/N: this is the first daughter!reader fic I’ve written in a bit - I hope it’s good. I’m excited to be writing requests again! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories!

(Y/N) wrang her hands together as she looked over all of the pots that were currently boiling on the stove. She took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to compose herself and shake the nerves from her body.

"You're doing great, love. It's going to be a good meal," her husband, James, offered some encouragement as he came up behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and pressed a kiss to the side of her head as he pulled her into his chest.

"Maybe I should have accepted the catering offer? There's a lot of people coming over," she expressed her worry, eyes still focused on the pots. She then began to wonder why she even agreed to hosting her family in the first place.

"This is going to be extra special because you made it all," he told her, kissing her temple once more before letting her get back to work. "And your cooking is wonderful," he complimented her, sending a smile her way as she turned to look at him.

She smiled back, although it wavered due to the nerves she was still feeling, watching as he exited the kitchen before she got back to work.

(Y/N) was bringing the final dish to the dining table two hours later. She smiled at everyone who was waiting patiently for dinner to start and took a deep breath as she moved to stand behind her husband's chair.

"James and I would like to thank everyone for coming tonight. I hope that you enjoy what I've prepared for you to eat," she gave a small speech, her nervous smile still present as she then sat down.

"Let's eat then, eh?" Tommy suggested, smiling at his daughter from the opposite end of the table. He was proud of her for this vast spread that she'd managed to cook up. It smelled wonderful to him.

Comments of agreement came from around the table as everyone began taking dishes and spooning helpings of the food onto their plates. (Y/N) watched as this happened, wanting to make sure all was well; filling her plate last.

Dinner began quietly, the sounds of forks hitting plates the only thing to be heard. (Y/N) couldn't help but sneak a few glances around the table, wanting to see if there were any problems. All looked fine to her.

Somehow, she didn't manage to catch her uncles, John and Arthur, throwing sideways glances at each other in between each bite they took. Something about the taste seemed off to them. Whether it was the seasoning on the roast, or the choice or cut of the vegetables, the food wasn't exactly pleasurable to eat.

But the pleased look on their niece's face told them that she was happy to have the family over, eating a dinner that she worked so hard to prepare. They couldn't even think of ruining things for her by bringing up the fact that her cooking was well under par.

And besides, Tommy seemed to be fine with eating it, and he never ate anything.

Dinner continued and small talk was made. The usual discussion of business between the Shelby family had been swapped for stories of the past and the men making arrangements for their annual hunting trip that was fastly approaching.

All was well until (Y/N) decided to ask the table for opinions on the food. "How has everyone been enjoying the food?" She wasn't sure if she was being too upfront in asking for opinions, but no one had offered any prior to her question, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't dying to know their thoughts.

"Lovely as always, darling," her husband, James, was the first to share his thoughts on it, sending her a smile as he cut himself another piece of the roast.

"Thanks, James," she smiled back at him before looking out to the rest of the table. No one else's eyes met hers; their gazes cast down on their plates. Maybe that means they really like the food, she thought to herself. "Dad?" she asked after a few moments had passed. Tommy looked up at her, his brows raised as if to say 'what?' "What do you think?" she asked, curious to know what his thoughts on the meal were.

"It's good, love," he told her, nodding as he grabbed his glass of whiskey, "really good."

"Thank you," she chirped in response, feeling extremely pleased with herself. She grabbed her fork and knife then and went to cut a piece of the roast.

"Well I think that..." another comment started to come out, but it was abruptly stopped. "What the bloody hell was that for?" the voice belonged to Linda Shelby, and she was now glaring daggers at her husband, Arthur. Arthur had his brows furrowed as he glanced between his wife and (Y/N), a bit of an uneasy expression present on his face. "Spit it out, Arthur," she snapped in a harsh whisper. Arthur said nothing of sustenance though, instead just shaking his head and muttering "don't," under his breath.

"Were you going to say something, Linda?" (Y/N) asked, her curiosity peaked as she focused on the blonde woman.

Linda shared one last look with her husband, who was still discreetly shaking his head, before she plastered a smile on her face and turned to look at the younger woman. "I was just going to say that...that...this is a lovely dinner, (Y/N)," she finally shared her opinion on the cooking, although it may not have been originally what she wanted to say. (Y/N) took it though, a smile breaking onto her features.

"Aww thanks so much, Linda. I was so worried about this dinner. I'm so happy to hear that everyone is enjoying it," (Y/N) expressed her previous worries with the group, earning a chorus of 'no it was good’ comments in response.

Overly pleased with herself now, (Y/N) was smiling from ear to ear as she continued eating her dinner. Just wait until they try the dessert, she thought to herself, pride flowing through her.

The Shelby men followed James into his study after the dessert plates had been removed from the table. (Y/N) had decided to take the women around for a tour of her new home, a tour which the men felt they didn't need to join. All five of them had a glass in their hand, and they were seated on the chairs that were positioned around the mantle.

"I don't know how you do it, James," Arthur said with a sigh as he brought his glass back to his lips. He took a drink and then let out a sigh after swallowing it.

"Do what?" James was confused by the older man's statement.

"Eat (Y/N)'s food daily," Arthur didn't beat around the bush. "I mean, she's me neice and I love her, but the food she cooks is fucking terrible."

James nodded slowly in response to Arthur's statement, a knowing look present on his face as he looked like he was fighting a smile. He then took a look at Tommy, checking the waters before sharing information about the daughter of a man who could do some nasty damage if he said the wrong thing. He wasn't surprised to see his father in law looking at him.

"Well how do ya do it?" John broke the silence, signaling to the other man that he'd been taking too long to respond.

"She's my wife," he began, a smile forming on his face, "I've learned to love every part of being with her."

"Ah you've gone soft, lad," Arthur couldn't help but chuckle at the response he got before he set his sights on his brother, "and you, Tom…how do you do it, brother?"

Tommy laughed to himself as he heard the question. He brought his whiskey up and took a sip, pausing for a moment longer before finally answering the question: "guess it grows on you." His response was simple, and he followed it with a shrug.

"You both have not a clue what you're talking about," Arthur commented with a shake of his head, "John, help me out here. It's nothing against (Y/N)...her food's just downright terrible, right?" he looked to his younger brother for some back up.

"Right," John nodded, raising his glass in agreement.

"Good man," Arthur praised his brother for answering in line with him.

"I think her cooking's good," Finn chimed in from where he was sitting by the fire.

"You wouldn't know what's good for ya, Finn," Arthur dismissed his youngest brother's opinion. Finn shook his head and looked at the fire, wondering why he decided to add his two cents in the first place.

Silence fell in the room then, and James couldn't help but keep thinking about his response to Arthur's question. It made him chuckle as he realized that maybe he hadn't been completely truthful with what he had said.

"What's funny?" John asked, catching the other man's laugh.

All eyes were on him in an instant. He could tell by their intent gazes that he wouldn't be able to get out of this one. "Nothing...it's just that," he paused, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head, "I will admit that her cooking has been harder to learn to love than the rest of her," he shared what he'd been thinking.

John and Arthur immediately began laughing, both happy that they'd gotten the young man to break and share his actual thoughts on their niece's cooking. They knew that he felt the same as they did just by the vague response he gave earlier, but hearing it cemented the victory.

"It took me a while too. You'll get there," Tommy cut through the laughter of his brothers to offer his son in law some advice. James smiled at Tommy, happy to know that maybe he'd be able to get used to it, just like his father in law had.

(Y/N) was sitting with the rest of the women in the front room. She'd become quiet, letting the others continue their conversation about the latest fashion trends. She had too much on her mind.

A smile was present on her face as she thought back to the dinner, and all of the lovely comments she received from her family. Giddiness bubbled up inside of her as her mind went to thinking about what she would cook for their next family dinner. She couldn’t wait to have them over again!

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[queenshelby]

ONE SHOT: HIDE & SEEK WITH DADDY'S SPECIAL FRIEND

PART THREE OF THE DARK & SEXY SERIES

NOTE: This is a series of one shots and mini series for Cillian Murphy & Tommy Shelby in which he acts totally off-canon. Most of these shots are very dark in nature and you should read their individual warnings. All of these shots are requests from readers. Co-written with @darkshelbyfiction! ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER 18. MINORS DNI.

PAIRING: CILLIAN MURPHY X LITTLE!READER

WARNING: ROLEPLAY, DDLG, READER IS A "LITTLE"

"Hey sweetie" Cillian said as he came to your bedroom. You were playing with your stuffies and smiled awkwardly. 

"Can I come in?" he asked, peeking his head around the doorframe. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

He entered cautiously, his eyes scanning the walls, floors, and furniture, as if assessing the potential hiding places of the young girl within. His gaze finally found you sitting in the corner, cradling your stuffed animals.

His face split into a grin, revealing sharp, perfect teeth, and his voice softened. "How is my sweet girl today? Are you well?" Cillian continued, reaching out to put some loose hair behind your ear.

"I am good daddy," you replied, your cheeks blushing red.

"That's good sweetie," he said as his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You could feel his gaze on you, burning hot and heavy.

"Daddy was wondering whether you wanted to play with his little friend for a bit?" Cillian said, winking at you. You looked up at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Just like we usually do when you are being a good girl for daddy," Cillian cooed, reaching down to stroke your hair gently. "And if you hold nice and still for daddy, you can even have a lollipop," he added, pulling a large, sticky candy from his pocket.

You gazed at it hungrily, your mouth watering at the sight of the colorful treat. The promise of sweet relief made your heart race with excitement.

"Okay daddy, but just for a little bit," you agreed, smiling excitedly. With trembling hands, you reached forward to take the offered lollipop. The tangy sweetness of the hard candy filled your mouth, making your heart pitter-patter faster.

"Now let's get comfy, honey," Cillian murmured, taking your hand to lead you over to the bed. His grip on your arm felt firm yet gentle, as if he knew precisely how much pressure to apply without causing any discomfort. You felt a strange sense longing as you followed him across the room.

Your body tensed up as you climbed onto the mattress, the familiar scent of clean sheets enveloping you. Cillian's eyes never left you as he carefully unbuckled his belt,his movements slow and deliberate. You tried not to watch, but your gaze kept straying back to the way his jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the firm flesh beneath.

"Alright, sweetheart, let's make sure you're comfortable," Cillian murmured, adjusting the pillows behind your back. His touch was gentle, his fingertips tracing lines along your arms and shoulders. You couldn't help but shiver at the sensation, your breath coming out in short, ragged gasps.

"That's good," Cillian praised through gritted teeth, reaching up to push your pink PJ shirt upwards to reveal your breasts. You didn't resist, the fabric sliding away easily under his deft touch. You could almost hear the soft thrumming of your pulse quickening in your veins.

"You're so beautiful," Cillian murmured, running his calloused fingers over your exposed chest. You flushed bright red, the tips of your nipples hardening under his attentive gaze. He leaned in closer, his warm breath tickling your neck as he spoke.

"Daddy will take off your panties now, okay?" Cillian whispered softly into your ear, his hot breath making you squirm. You nodded in agreement, biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning. "Good girl," he mumbled, lifting your hips slightly to slide your cotton underwear down your legs.

"Daddy needs to check something real quick," Cillian said, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "Does Daddy's little princess need to pee?"

A small whimper escaped your lips, and you shook your head.

"Okay," Cillian whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "But I want you to promise me you won't lie about it, okay? Just tell me the truth."

"I promise, Daddy ," you managed to squeak out, your throat tightening. You could sense his gaze burning hot and heavy on your skin, and you felt the weight of his trust resting heavily on your shoulders.

Sighing deeply, Cillian seemed to relax his stance a bit. "Okay then," he murmured, caressing your thigh tenderly.

"Do you want your teddy while daddy plays hide and seek in his special place with his little friend?" Cillian asked, flashing another grin. He crawled onto the bed beside you, his muscled frame looming over you. Your heart raced at the sight of him so close, his cologne filling your nostrils.

"Mmm... yeah," you stammered, pointing to your favorite bear on the floor. Cillian scooped it up and placed it into your arms while you sucked on your lollipop. 

"There you go, angel. Now you can focus on our game," he said as he slid his pants down, revealing his stiff cock. 

"Daddy's little friend is very excited and ready to visit your special place again," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. Your heart pounded in your chest, your gaze locked on the throbbing member before you. It was so thick and veiny, standing proud and erect, begging for attention. You swallowed excitedly, shifting on the bed.

"It's okay, baby," Cillian cooed, stroking your cheek with one hand. "Just keep sucking on your lollipop, and Daddy will make you feel good," he said and with a nod, you clung tighter to your fluffy bear, its soft fur comforting you through the fog of confusion swirling within your brain.

"Daddy's little friend is ready to visit your special place now," he whispered huskily, easing himself closer until his erection brushed against your inner thigh. Your breath hitched in surprise and all you could think about was what was happening and how deliciously sinful it felt. You wanted to say something but only a moan escaped as, inside you, something was hungry for the forbidden fruit hanging just beyond reach.

"Hold on tight to your bear, sweetheart," Cillian breathed, his warm breath hitting your neck as the head of his cock pressed against your entrance.

He pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance, testing the waters. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you gripped your bear tightly as you waited for the inevitable pleasure. 

"You're doing great," Cillian murmured, slowly pushing deeper. You could feel him stretching you open, widening the walls of your precious hole. Each thrust pushed you further apart, forcing you to accept the foreign intruder. 

You gripped your bear harder, its soft fur rubbing against your palms, providing comfort amidst the chaos as you swallowed a moan. You stared at the ceiling, trying to distract yourself from the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. This roleplay excited you beyond belief and you did not want to cum just yet. Unfortunately for you however, Cillian's performance made it rather difficult for you to keep calm.

"Relax, sweetheart," Cillian whispered, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead. "Daddy wants to make you feel good," he told you convincingly and his words echoed in your ears, taunting you. How could this feel so wrong, yet so unbelievably right? You shifted restlessly, craving more contact despite the guilt gnawing at your conscience.

Every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, each withdrawal leaving you yearning for more. The constant cycle of release and tease drove you insane, like a drug addict needing their fix.

"Daddy's little friend loves visiting your special place, doesn't he?" Cillian chuckled as you moaned loudly, his cock pulsating within you. Each word from his dirty mouth spewed fire, fueling the inferno raging between your thighs. 

"It's like playing hide and seek, isn't it?" Cillian purred, his deep voice vibrating against your sensitive skin.

"Oh my god," you groaned, your pussy clenching involuntarily. You knew better than to say anything else, not wanting him to stop and, as he began to withdraw, you cried out, desperate for more. Cillian smirked wickedly, thrusting back into you, his cock driving deeper than ever before.

"That's it, baby. Let daddy's little friend explore your little hole," Cillian murmured, his voice smooth and seductive. 

"Daddy, your little friend is sooo hard!" you moaned, arching your back as Cillian plunged deeper. Your body screamed with delight, every nerve ending firing in ecstasy.

"Yes, baby! That's it!" Cillian growled, his thrusts becoming more frenzied. He grabbed your knees, spreading them wide apart as he pumped into you relentlessly.

"Oooohh, Daddy!" you screamed, your orgasm building rapidly. The walls of your precious flower quivered, gripping Cillian's cock tightly.

'Are you going to do cummies for me sweetie?' Cillian asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes daddy," you whimpered, squeezing your bear tightly. Your heart raced, and you felt the wetness seeping through your thighs.

"Good girl," Cillian purred, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"I am cumming, daddy!" you cried out, your body convulsing as your orgasm ripped through you. You squeezed your bear tightly, its plush fur damp with sweat. 

"Such a good girl," Cillian murmured, thrusting deeper. You cried out, your body convulsing in pleasure.

"Daddy is going to do cummies now too, okay?"Cillian whispered in your ear, his warm breath setting you ablaze.

"Oh yes, Daddy," you moaned, your insides melting from the sheer force of his dominance.

"You have been taking your little pill, haven't you sweetheart?" Cillian asked.

"Yes daddy," you confirmed. "You can do cummies inside me," you teased him.

"Good girl," Cillian praised, continuing to pump into you relentlessly. "Now Daddy's little friend is going to fill you up, just like he loves to do."

With a final, triumphant surge, Cillian buried his cock inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with a noise like thunderclaps. His groin muscles flexed and he groaned loudly, his face contorting wildly. Then, with a last agonized cry, he shot his load inside of you.

"You did so well for me, sweetie," he then said as he pulled out, leaving you with a gaping hole, his seed leaking out of you.

"Daddy will clean you up, now. Just hold still, okay? It is important to keep your special place nice and clean" Cillian promised, climbing off the bed. He returned moments later with a warm washcloth, gently wiping away the evidence of your taboo encounter.

"Feel better, honey?" Cillian asked, his tone softer than before. You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.

"Good girl," he praised, handing you a fresh pair of panties. You hesitated, glancing warily at him. "I like when you are so obedient for me," he told you before, eventually, letting down his guard.

"Damn Cills, you really do deserve that Oscar. That was so fucking hot," you told him, smiling at him with a wicked grin.

"Watch your little potty mouth or daddy might need to spank you," he winked before cleaning himself up as well and the breaking out in a chuckle. 

[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do- Part 2

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series Master list

Thank you so much for giving this little idea so much love 💕 it means a lot! Thank you for taking the time to read and share your thoughts

Word count: 2,695

The house was quiet, it was probably pretty late by now, but at least the initial commotion was calmer now. Tommy’s eyes focused on the flame flickering on the bedside table, the room was quiet. Then his eyes darted to Y/N… his best friend seemed so vulnerable, so small. He had seen the marks her father left on her back it was a horrible sight and now it looked worse. As if her life wasn’t complicated enough by the unplanned pregnancy, Y/N would have to deal with the physical pain as well.

He studied Y/N’s face for a minute, taking in the swollen eyes from crying too much, his heart aches for her, she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. She held a special place close to his heart since they were kids.

“Do you’ve a minute?” Polly asked.

As she realized the doubt in her nephew’s eyes, she assured him that Y/N would sleep for a while. After cleaning her injuries and adding a strong ointment to the wounds on her back, Polly checked the baby and gave Y/N a tea to help her sleep.

Tommy gave Y/N one more look and covered her arm with the thin sheet, but was careful enough to not hurt her before he walked out of what was once Ada’s room in Watery Lane.

“What happened?” He found Polly downstairs stomping her cigarette on the ashtray. Earlier, she didn’t ask questions, she just rushed to take care of Y/N’s wounds just she had done so many times when they were kids, and eventually teenagers on the brick of trouble every time.

“Y/N is pregnant, the son of a bitch told her he wasn’t sure the baby is his.”

“And that’s why her father hit her like that?!” She asked scandalized. “He’s an animal.”

“How’s the baby, really?” He asked with genuine concern.

Polly sighed. “She was smart to offer her back, so the belt wouldn���t hit in any compromising area, but I’d keep her in bed just in case.” She suggested.

“Tommy,” Scudboat apologized for the interruption, “we found the vehicle, Scott has been hiding in the house, do you want the men to enter and get him?”

Leaning on the counter, Tommy considered his options for a few seconds. “No, keep someone watching his house at all times, he might try to escape.”

As the blinder left him again alone with his aunt, Tommy expressed out loud a decision he had already made.

“We can’t leave her alone Pol.” He clenched his jaw. “She’s on her own, that bastard just used her and her family won’t help her with the baby yo-you saw how they hurt her.”

“I know.” She added breathlessly stopping for a second as she got the kettle. “They turned their backs on her when she needed them the most.”

“Sort a doctor tomorrow morning to make sure they’ll be fine.”

“And then what?” Pol stared at him.

“I just got a house, still needs a few things… I can take Y/N there, because if she stays here, she’ll see her parents all damn day.”

“In the meantime if she needs another place, there’s my house as well.”

Tommy folded his arms against his chest and nodded profusely.

“Poor Y/N… she’ll have a hard time with people pointing fingers at her all the time.” Polly shook her head.

Tommy remembered the long stares and whispers over Ada, when she suddenly got married and started showing no long after. He had been forced to walk around with the gun in his hand for several weeks. They even kicked her out of a boutique once she tried buying a dress and Tommy had to stop by with a few men until his sister got the dress that she wanted.

“I’ll blind anyone who dares to do something against Y/N.” He stated firmly pouring some whiskey finally.

“What happened?” Finn asked looking from his brother to his aunt.

“If anyone asks,” Tommy pointed a finger at him, “you haven’t seen Y/N here alright?”

Finn frowned. “But I haven’t seen her.”

“Exactly.” Tommy agreed walking towards the fireplace, he added a few pieces of wood and then took a seat in front of it. Pondering on the previous events, worry installed on his shoulders of what might happen. Anger spreading on his body at the thought of his best friend being humiliated by her useless boyfriend, after all she had done for the prick and he had the audacity to doubt the baby was his. Thanks to her, Scott got the chance to be a blinder, and with that endless benefits.

One of his men knocked desperately and as Tommy went to see what was happening he heard the best news of the day.

“We followed Scott, he was at the train station.”

He took the remaining of his drink in a swing. “Was?”

“The boys took him to the warehouse, he had a ticket to escape.”

Tommy gave his aunt a look. “If Y/N wakes up, send someone to let me know.”

As Polly saw them disappear, her eyes darted upwards, in a silent prayer. She knew Scott wouldn’t live a day without regretting his decision. Taking her cup of tea with her, she decided to look for some clothes and clean sheets to provide to Y/N while they sorted everything out.

Y/N was considered part of the family, she and Tommy had always been close, in a way Y/N was the only person who could understand her nephew. The one who he trusted the most.

She decided to go to the church the following morning to light a candle and pray for Y/N and the baby.

Taking a deep breath and one of her eyes cracked a bit open. As everything started to hurt so bad, her chest felt heavy as memories from what had happened hit Y/N hard. Word by word her parents had said replayed in her mind.

A single tear rolled down from her eye to her nose. With trembling fingers, Y/N moved one of her hands to the yet non-existent bump. It was still early to start showing but she couldn’t help but think her baby was starting to grow inside her.

Despite the circumstances, Y/N felt like giving her own life for this baby. It didn’t matter that Scott or her family decided to leave her.

Tommy opened the door carefully to not wake Y/N up, but to his surprise she was already awake.

“Go on… say it.” She was waiting for Tommy’s lecture.

Scott had turned his back just like her parents. All the people she thought she could rely on showed her to not take them for granted.

But Tommy shook his head.

“How are you feeling?” He asked taking the chair in the corner to place it next to the bed.

“Like a total failure.” She admitted with tears in her eyes.

“Y/N.” Tommy didn’t know what to say to make her feel better, to help her. “Hey, look at me.” He spoke softly and covered one of her hands with his own.

Y/N started biting the inside of her cheek to prevent more tears to come out. But looked at her best friend anyways.

“You’re not alone, I know you’ve a lot to take in at the moment… but you can count on me for everything.” He offered sincerely.

She didn’t feel worth any of this, she felt dirty, stupid for believing in Scott’s love words. How could she have been so naïve?

“Why?” Her voice broke. “Why do you want to help me when I’ve done everything wrong?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.” Tommy swallowed hard. “Don’t let them get in your head, I know how it is, but this isn’t your fault.”

“Of course it is! I gave myself away to Scott, I’m just another whore.”

Tommy lost his control, he didn’t want her to feel this way.

“You’re not a whore. You did it out of love and that’s not something to regret.”

“I deserve this, my father is right.” Y/N shook her head, she angrily wiped a tear away.

“No, you don’t deserve this shit happening. Y/N you’re a good woman an-”

Y/N’s grandmother asked if she could walk into the room. Tommy felt grateful for the interruption because he didn’t know how to deal this situation. He didn’t want to say that he had warned Y/N about her now ex boyfriend and make her feel worse than she already did.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need anything.”

At least he got a chance last night at the warehouse to make the bastard pay for playing with Y/N’s heart. Tommy made it very clear he better disappear from her life for good because if he ever saw him again, he wouldn’t let him walk twice alive.

He had been a few punches away from killing Scott. But the image of Y/N holding a baby in her arms stopped him… he wouldn’t be responsible for killing that baby’s father, even though Scott definitely deserved it. So he limited himself to leave a little warning, a message.

“This is a mess, Y/N feels so guilty for getting into this.” Tommy announced walking into the kitchen. He found his sister and aunt making breakfast.

Tommy’s eyes fixed on Karl and he was taken back in time to when Ada thought he had betrayed Freddie. He was a lot of things, but he’d never cause a pain like that to a child. At least not one of his own people.

From the beginning, he knew Scott was a piece of shit, but Y/N seemed so happy and thrilled, how would he step in to destroy her happiness? He never imagined he’d have to help her pick up the broken pieces of her heart. The sudden presence of Polly close to him made him snap back into reality, she stepped closer to help him light the cigarette that was hanging from his mouth.

Tommy moved his eyes towards his nephew, he was playing with a truck on the floor. Perhaps he was overthinking but he didn’t know what would he answer when Y/N’s child asked about his or her father.

“Ada would you talk to Y/N?”

“About what?”

“When you got pregnant…” he began with embarrassment in his eyes to talk about that. “It’s something similar.”

They’ve come a long way ever since, but Tommy still regretted the time they spent apart. Family was everything to him.

“And what do you want me to say Tommy? Her boyfriend dumped her, it’s not the same I got married.”

He sighed in frustration. “I just want Y/N to feel our support.”

“You’re going to make her feel overwhelmed! I know how noisy you can be.” Ada protested.

Tommy scoffed, he felt offended by his sister’s words. He just wanted to help Y/N.

“I’ll talk to her.” Polly intervened placing some food on a tray to give Y/N.

“Thank you.”

Ada clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. Her eyes boring into her brother.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

But Ada turned the corner of her mouth down and shuddered. “Nothing it’s just strange to see you go above and beyond for someone.”

As she walked out of the kitchen, Tommy found himself thinking of her words. She was telling the truth but… but how could he stand there and do nothing for Y/N?

He knew her like the palm of his hand, she had been by his side since forever, encouraging him to follow his dreams, telling him the truth right in his face when he messed up. Even he didn’t want to hear it.

There was no other way to do this, she’d have his entire support through the pregnancy and whatever she might need afterwards.

“Mr. Shelby!” Y/N’s grandmother shouted from upstairs.

Tommy skipped a few steps and when he reached Ada’s old room, he found Polly holding Y/N’s hair back, she had been sick and her grandmother was trying to hold her trembling body.

“I’m sorry Pol. Sorry.”

“Why are you sorry for? With everything you’ve been through it’s not a surprise your stomach can’t handle food. Tommy help me here.” His aunt asked him to take her place so Y/N could use his strength as support. “Take her to that chair, while I sort this out.”

Following Polly’s instructions, Tommy lead Y/N carefully to the chair in the corner while his aunt and Y/N’s grandma changed the bedsheets. Ada joined them a moment later with a glass of water. “Try some crackers, it helped me with sickness during my pregnancy.” She offered taking the sheets downstairs.

Y/N groaned feeling embarrassed and mortified for everything. As soon as she smelled the food her stomach protested, but she felt bad for telling Polly something so she decided to just eat the food. But the moment she got the first bite, she couldn’t help it and it ended in her throwing up and making a mess.

“I want to thank you for taking care of her.” Y/N’s grandmother admitted taking her hand.

“I was just thinking…” Tommy started to say, “You could come with me to the new place I got.” Then he turned to face her grandmother. “It’s outside the city, away from curious eyes and it’s surrounded by trees.”

“No.” Y/N stated.

“I think it’s a wonderful idea dear.” Her grandma smiled at Tommy. “Fresh air could help her.”

Y/N sighed frustrated with herself, with the situation.

“Think about it, yeah?” Tommy suggested. “That way you won’t run into your parents everyday, and you can walk to the lake to relax.”

“He’s right.” Her grandma approved. “You’ll feel grateful to be away from the drama.”

“Perfect! Looks like you got it all figured out Tommy.” She snapped. “Just like my mother who wanted to send me to her aunt’s farm.”

She knew this wasn’t fair, he was the only one offering support, but she couldn’t help it, she felt on the brick, like everything was falling apart. And she was angry with herself.

Polly pushed Tommy away and gently grabbed Y/N’s arm. “Sweetheart all of this worry isn’t right for the baby. For the first time, I think going to that house is the best idea.”

“Unfortunately your choices are limited my darling.” Y/N’s grandma spoke softly. “But you should know that these wonderful people are trying to help you.”

She was trying to be strong, to pretend this didn’t hurt her, but truth is he world was crashing down. And this was only the beginning.

That seemed to click on Y/N’s mind because she gave a small nod, her lower lip gave in and it started quivering, then the tears started to fall down her cheeks.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” Emotions took over her.

Her grandma pulled her in for a hug, wrapping her arms protectively around her just like she did when she was a child. “The Lord removed some people from your life but look at the angels he placed right away.”

Tommy saw Polly dabbing the corner of her eyes with her sleeve.

“This baby will grow surrounded by people who really love him or her.” He assured her.

“Now how about I help you take a bath? The doctor should arrive shortly.” Polly offered rubbing her back.

Her grandma squeezed between them. “I better go, said I was going to church.”

“Thank you for coming gran.” Y/N gave her a tight hug.

As they moved to get things done, Polly stopped her nephew before he could walk downstairs. “You’re brave for helping her like this.”

“I can’t leave her on her own.” He tried to explain, but Polly interrupted him.

“Your mother raised you right.” She then, in an unexpected move touched his shoulder. “She’d be proud of you.”

Part 3

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[zablife]

A Small Favor

John Shelby & Y/n Solomons (Partners in Crime AU)

Summary: Y/n has called John for a small favor…the removal of a dead body from Alfie’s kitchen. Who was the dead man and why was he there in the first place? That might be the biggest surprise of all.

Author’s note: Requested by @darklydeliciousdesires who wanted to know what this duo would do if tasked with disposing of a body. Ty for the wonderful inspo! Also, Rose is an OC belonging to @justrainandcoffee. She is Alfie's wife and an advocate for women. Quick reminder that Y/n is Alfie's sister.

Warnings: language, mention of a dead body and murder, weapons, blood

You sat watching steam rise from a piping hot cup of tea as John paced before you. “I don’t understand,” he said, twisting his cap in his hands.

“What?” you mumbled as you shoved a biscuit into your mouth.

“How did you manage it?” he asked with a note of genuine surprise, though he should have learned by now not to underestimate you. 

You only shrugged as he gestured toward the hulking man splayed out before him on Alfie’s kitchen floor.

“Used me knife," you explained in a flat tone.

“Bloody hell,” he exclaimed with a low whistle. John stood over the mangled corpse stroking his chin thoughtfully before gazing back at you with pride. “Carved him up like a Christmas turkey!”

“Serves him right, filthy wanker,” you spat, wiping the crumbs from your lip with a shaky hand.

"Hey, you alright?" John softened momentarily, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

You narrowed your eyes at him, hating the look of pity you found staring back at you. "You seen the state of him? And you see me?" you gestured toward yourself with a flourish, demanding he acknowledge your victory. When he took a moment too long, you shoved him away. "Course I'm alright," you insisted stubbornly as you settled back into your chair, crossing your arms over your chest.

John let out a long sigh, wishing he'd never asked. Then recalling the trail of overturned furniture and broken glass leading to the kitchen, he changed the subject. "Was he looking for somethin'?" Opening and closing the cupboards as though he might find an answer hidden in the shelves, he called out, "Does Alfie still have that faberge egg?"

“Fuck no!" you vehemently denied. "Sold it ages ago to that toff who wanted it for his dog-faced cunt of a wife. Reckon she eats kibble out of it now or whatever the fuck rich people do."

John snorted out a laugh as he ran a hand down his face. How you could crack a joke at a time like this was beyond all comprehension. Turning back to his search, he opened another door, peering inside with intense scrutiny.

“Dunno what you're expecting to find," you muttered, irritation rising in your throat as you surveyed the room. "Not a sausage...."

John scratched his head as he glanced over his shoulder, “Is that a kosher thing?”

You rolled your eyes before clarifying, “Sausage and mash,” rubbing your thumb against your fingertips. When John still looked at you with a quizzical stare you shouted, “Cash, you daft cunt! If you think Alfie's stupid enough to hide anything of value here, you're a few sandwiches short of a picnic, mate."

He nodded in understanding. “Right, well….don’t matter why that fucker wanted in, we have to get him out.” He stood facing the man in question, removing a toothpick from his pocket and seesawing it between his teeth as he thought.

You quickly grew impatient, eyes darting wildly from the clock on the wall to John’s motionless form. “What are you waiting for? This is your speciality, ain’t it?” you asked in a high squeaky voice, anxious to move things along.

John spun around to face you, “And you’re such a big help sat there like a pudding!” he exclaimed taking a large step to swipe at you before slipping in a pool of the man’s blood. 

You raced from the table to catch him, but he was already propelled halfway across the room, finally tumbling over and landing atop the dead man’s barrel chest. “ALLEY CAT!” he roared, face to face with the man’s hideous pallor of death.

Barely containing your laughter, you watched your partner in crime grimace before turning away to suppress a gag. “Smells like cheap whisky and piss,” he proclaimed. 

“What do you reckon he smelt like? Bloody roses?” you asked, hoisting him up by the elbow.

John emitted a low growl before brushing himself off. Removing his jacket and tossing it aside, he crossed his arms, mouth twitching anxiously. “Can we get on with it?” he asked with a sigh that sounded like resignation to his fate. “You take one end, I’ll take the other,” he instructed with a nod of his chin.

John began wedging his arms beneath the man's upper body as you took hold of the thick legs which felt like two tree trunks. Hoisting the weight off the floor took a few moments and the body swung precariously between you, grunts and groans passed between you as you struggled to find equilibrium. Eventually you were able to take a few teetering steps backward and out of the kitchen doorway into the hall, but then you realized you didn't know where you were going after that.

“Wait! What’s the plan?” you demanded, knitting your eyebrows in confusion. 

John snapped his head toward you, “Are you serious?"

"Well, we can't walk out of the house with him. People will notice," you pointed out.

"Just...keep...going," he instructed through clenched teeth. When you slowed your movements again he warned sternly, "If we stop now, you're going to break my fucking back."

"No...no, I don't like this, Barney," you said, shaking your head.

"You going to fight me the whole way?" he asked, nostrils beginning to flare in frustration.

“Do you want my help or not?” you huffed, dropping the pair of legs you were barely holding to begin with and placing your hands on your hips.

Dropping his half with a thud John laughed mirthlessly. He pointed at you, cheeks rosy with exertion and the tips of his ears beginning to match as his temper ignited. “You asked me to come, you ungrateful horse’s arse!”

"What did you call me?" you asked, rushing him and pinning him to the nearest wall, hand poised over your switch blade.

Just then someone cleared their throat and you both jumped, startled by the noise.

You broke away from John, looking up at a dark haired woman who stood above you in a halo of golden morning light. Her amber eyes were warm and held nothing but concern as she searched your face in wordless communication.

John frowned at you, his eyes darting between you as he wondered aloud, "Who the fuck is she?"

Ignoring him completely, you looked up at her unable to contain the burden of your guilt. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you admitted softly to her, "I didn't want you to see this."

"Is she one of Rose's women or..." he trailed off, watching her descend the stairs slowly and walk into your waiting embrace, placing a tender kiss to your trembling lips. "Do you two know each other?" he asked thickly. "Please, Y/n, I'm so confused," he pleaded.

When you parted, you were still holding her hand tightly in yours. "John, this is Eliana Armstrong."

"And him?" John asked cautiously, pointing at the body. "You know him, don't you?"

You nodded slowly, but Eliana spoke up. "His name is Harold Armstrong,” she said sadly, holding up her left hand to reveal a small gold band on her ring finger.

John's shoulders hunched and his brow creased as he thought.

"Give him a minute," you whispered next to her ear. "Got a nice boat, that one, but he ain't the brightest."

"Oi! M not deaf!” John scowled at you. Then turning to Eliana, he puffed out his chest, ready to defend you. "You had her kill your husband?" he hissed the accusation as he closed the distance in a few long strides. "You had no right to ask that of her!" he shouted, pointing a finger in her direction.

Quickly stepping between them, you placed a hand to his chest to halt his movements. "You've got it wrong," you stated simply.

"He was going to kill Y/n..." Eliana began before you hushed her.

"She told him she was leaving to be with me. He thought he could stop her by..." You stopped to inhale a sharp breath, thinking of the perilous fight you barely survived hours earlier. "Well...you know," you swallowed harshly, not wanting to give details. "I called you cos I knew you'd be there for me no matter what," you explained quietly. John's hands dropped to his sides, fists unclenching as all tension left his body with the shock of what he'd just heard.

"Oh, my God," he said, lowering himself by the banister to sit on the bottom stair. He knew something was off when you opened the door for him, possibly before that, when he heard a slight quiver in your voice on the telephone as you gave the code word for emergencies. His heart clenched in his chest at the thought of you reaching out to him before anyone else, speechless at your show of trust.

After a few minutes of deafening silence you needed to know if John was upset for being asked to clean up your mess. "Will you please say something?" you prodded gently.

John raised his head from where it hung cradled between his large hands, his bright blue eyes observing the body lying before him in Alfie's demolished house. His curious gaze finally resting upon your exhausted and disheveled form, he managed, "Is this why we never shagged?"

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

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