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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Every little thing you do - Part 6

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭

Word count: 3,138

Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.

“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.

“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”

Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.

“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.

Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.

“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.

“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.

Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.

“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.

“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”

The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.

Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.

“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.

Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.

“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.

Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.

She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.

He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.

“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.

“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”

Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…

They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…

Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.

“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”

Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.

He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”

Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.

“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”

Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.

“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.

“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”

“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.

The blinders gathered around him in a circle.

“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”

“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.

Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”

They were part of the guest list.

He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.

“What?”

“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.

John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.

“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”

He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.

Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.

Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.

“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.

As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….

Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.

For some unknown reason.

Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?

A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.

“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.

“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”

It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.

“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.

Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.

“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”

Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.

“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”

“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.

“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.

“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.

“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.

“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.

She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.

“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”

“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”

“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.

“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”

“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”

As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.

“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”

“What’s number one?”

“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.

“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.

Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.

When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.

“Dance with me?”

The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.

“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.

Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.

“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.

Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.

“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.

“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”

Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.

“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”

One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.

“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”

He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.

“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?

“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”

Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.

As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.

Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.

“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.

“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.

“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”

“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.

And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.

Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.

“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”

“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.

Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.

“Are you sure?”

“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.

Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.

“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.

And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Hi Selene! I hope you’ve been well! ☺️

I just wanted to stop in and say hi .. oh and also leave something that might brighten your day.

These Mutts have always made me smile, so I thought they might make you smile too.

Sending much love your way! 🧡

I've been well. That's so cute the dogs there. They brighten my day. Here's my two that keep me happy. Thanks for asking about me.

[forgottenpeakywriter]

F*ck Buddies

Part 9 ( more here)

Pairing -Modern Thomas Shelby and Reader

Warnings- 18*, swearing, violence, sexual content

I do not consent to my work being copied.

When you woke up the next morning, you were now in Tommy's bed. The last thing you remembered, was laying on his sofa. You still had your nightie on, so nothing sexual must have happened. Would he be annoyed with you?

He cooked for you, made a special effort and you fell asleep! Embarrassing!

Turning over, you noticed the bedroom door suddenly opening. Tommy was carrying a cup, dressed in his suit, shirt and tie. Hair pristine, a big smile on his face. "Morning sleepyhead," he grinned, placing the cup down on the bedside table next to you. Perching on the bed, he bent to kiss you.

"Ah don't I just woke up, I'm so sorry about last night," you apologised, "You should have just woken me up,"

"Why?" he frowned, brushing a stray hair away, "I tucked you in like a good boy, you were drooling, so...."

"Stop it, I was not," you swatted his arm, feeling a flush creep to your face. "I feel bad, you went to all of the effort, and we didn't even have sex,"

When his phone began to ring, he placed it on silent. Laughing at your statement, totally bewildered that's what you had thought. "Ah fuck yeah, I got you here just for sex, now what will I do?" Tommy shrugged, enjoying your expression.

"We had a good evening, yeah? I told you I wanted to do this right," staring into your eyes, he brushed his hand over your cheek.

“But... I have to go, I made you some tea. You be ok locking up?"

"Yeah I need to go soon. I have to get to work, I will leave the key at the front desk," you replied, in between the kisses he was planting on your face.

"Just hang on to it," he called, as he left the bedroom.

Climbing into his car, Tommy checked his phone again. Sara had called him five times, and kept texting him. What the fuck? Was she not getting the message? It had been months since he had last had anything to do with her.

Way before you.

She had been a fling, that was it. She was very full on. Too eager, always hounding him. She was just a fuck! And plus now, he had you..... You were so much more than that.

It didn’t help, that she worked at the same gym as you. She couldn't of told you, you would have mentioned it surely ? Tommy hadn’t even seen her there for weeks. Luckily…

"Use you? We had a bit of fun, that was it. Stop calling me,"

She would get the message, if he had to go and see her he would. Warn her off, he could even change his number. She was not going to mess this up for him! No way.

Showering and dressing at Tommy's apartment, you were now rushing around. He lived further away from where you worked, and the city traffic would be busy now.

"Running late, stuck in traffic. If I get stuck, can you start my pilates?" you text your co worker, Amira.

"Ok, but I have a client in an hour. You better not be fucking, you dirty girl?"

Laughing, you locked his door, rushing to the lift. You should have got up earlier. Waving at the doorman, you rushed from the building. Checking your watch as you went.

Twenty minutes later, you were still stuck in traffic. Sitting at the red lights, waiting for them to change. Briefly glancing into the rear view mirror, you noticed a white BMW approach.

Leaning down, whilst stationary, you grabbed your water from your bag. Checking the lights were still on red, you looked into your mirror again. Thinking how fast, the approaching car seemed to be going.

Where they going to stop? Your hands gripped the steering wheel, as you contemplated pulling away.

But, it was soon too late.

The car crashed into yours, full speed. Sending you flying forward, your airbag exploding. Body being crushed between the chair and the wheel. The last sound you heard, was your horn beeping....

"She's still not here," Amira told the gym manager, Dean. "I've called her over and over, she text me this morning. Do you think she's ok?"

Frowning, Dean picked up his phone, trying to call you himself. You were never late, and never rang in sick. "Maybe she's still stuck in traffic?"

Tommy had also been trying to get hold of you. It was 5pm now, and he hadn't heard a word. No reply to his text, no calls. Deciding to leave work, he set off towards the gym. He hadn't planned on going today, but he knew you would be there.

Pushing the lock button on his car, he opened the gym door. Bumping smack bang into Sara. Swallowing harshly, he glared at her. Not wanting an argument, not even wanting to be seen with her.

“She’s not here, if that’s what you’ve come for?” She growled at him, taking a step closer.

“What do you mean? She’s working today?” He asked, avoiding the conversation about her basically stalking him.

“She was meant to be, she didn’t turn up. Thought it might have something to do with you?” She questioned, running her fingers over his shirt. "Did you tie her up, Tommy?" she cooed at him, trying to look sexy.

Shooing her hand away, Tommy frowned. “Didn’t turn up?”

Pulling yourself up, you tried to get comfortable on the hospital bed. Still feeling dazed, you didn’t know how long you’d been here for. When the curtain was pulled back, a nurse in his early twenties appeared. Shooting you a smile, he placed a cup next to you.

“Sweet tea for the shock, my little chicken,” he winked. “You wanna answer that, it hasn’t stopped ringing,” He gestured towards your bag.

You remembered them asking, about your next of kin. But you didn’t want to bother anyone. It had only been a bump. Fumbling for your handbag, you stared at your phone.

“Tommy calling,”

“That your fella?” The nurse asked, feeling your pulse.

“No… well … sort of…” you frowned, the action making your headache worse. “Not sure,”

“Fuck buddies?” He whispered, “Put the poor sod out of his misery, call him back,"

Tommy was driving to your apartment, when you called him back. His heart began to race with relief. Until he heard your voice, heard the words you were telling him. The tell tale tremor in your words. He swore his heart stopped, just for a second.

A car crash? Fuck…. He had to see you.

Now sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. You tried to stretch your body, everything ached. Your neck felt tight and bruised. But, you had been checked over. Just cuts and bruises. You had been lucky, they told you. Your car hadn't been so lucky, you had only had it for six months.

“Y/n?” You heard, seeing Tommy rushing towards you. “What the fuck happened?” Squeezing you tightly, you flinched in pain. “Shit, sorry,”

Leaning against him, you were suddenly so glad he was here. You prided yourself, on being independent. Not relying on anyone. Not being a burden. But was it so wrong, to let yourself be cared for? Loved? No not loved, you just cared for each other. Or was it just lust?

"I can't remember much, just a car crashing into me full speed. I was... waiting at the lights, I think," you frowned, trying to process the events of the day. "They said, the driver had been drinking..."

Gently, he took your face in his hands, turning your head from side to side. "Fucking idiots, are you ok though? Have you been checked over?"

Nodding, you desperately tried to hold your emotions in. You just felt so vulnerable and he was being so kind to you. "I went to the gym, looking for you. A million scenarios, were running through my head,"

Seeing your eyes fill with tears, he pressed gentle kisses to your bruised face. "It's ok, I'm here now,"

"Can you give me a lift home?" you asked, "They towed my car, I think it's a write off. I can't even think about it, yet," A sob escaped your throat, making you look away in embarrasment.

"A lift home?" Tommy asked, "I'm taking you home, and not letting you out of my sight,"

Tommy was already planning, to find out who was driving the car that hit you....

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Lies Travel Faster..

Request from @elenavampire21

Pairing - Thomas Shelby and Reader

Could I ask for a Tommy gif using this picture. You and Tommy have been close friends and is working at the garrison and both have been scared to admit they love each other. You feel sad when one day grace is flirting with tommy . That night when it’s just you and Tommy he ensures that it’s only you he loves and both end up having sex .

@zablife has written a fantastic version of this request. You can read it here

Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to enter The Garrison. Pausing, you checked your watch again, ten minutes early for your shift. Damn it. You didn't want to have to make conversation, with her. Her fake laugh just irritated you, the way she watched your every move. Followed you around, trying to befriend you.

You didn't want her as a friend.

The way you saw it was, she was your number one enemy. Bit harsh maybe? No... fuck it. She had swooped in, taken half of your shifts. Taking Tommy's attention away from you. Everyday you had day dreamed, of pouring the drip trays over her perfect blonde hair. Would she be laughing then? No...

Deciding you couldn't delay any longer, you pushed the heavy door open. Two pairs of eyes, stopping their conversation to look at you. Grace with her smug grin dropping, when she realised it was you.

Tommy Shelby's girl, so everyone thought. But no, you were just friends. Sadly... he would never see you, as anything more.

Leaning against the bar, you let your eyes drift to his pert ass. Pausing taking a sip of his whiskey, he smiled over to you.

"Here she is, the one and only Y/n Y/L/N," he winked, lifting his arm for you to greet him.

It was just how you were with each other. Flirting, Ada would say. It was just being friendly, that was all. Standing beside him, you placed your bag onto the counter. Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, he kissed your cheek.

"The one and only?" you laughed, staring into his eyes. Instantly feeling happier. "Surely one is enough, Tommy?"

"It is for me," he answered, "You working now?"

Grace hovered behind the bar, taking her time to fold the cloth. "Four minutes to be precise," you smiled at him, slipping out of his grasp to hang your coat in the back room. Eurgh, you could smell her perfume from here. What was it? Tart? with a hint of man stealer?

"Stop it, Y/n," you chastised yourself. Be the better person, as your mother always told you. Treat others how you want to be treated.

Stepping behind the bar, you squeezed past her. There it was, the irritating giggle at something Tommy had said. He was hardly a comedian.

"Evening Y/n," she remarked.

"Grace," you forced a smile, standing beside her.

"Can I offer you anything else before I go, Mr Shelby?" she questioned, leaning forward over the bar. Fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Like what? Your tits? You wanted to retort.

"Nah, Y/n will look after me, I'm sure, eh?" he replied, watching you start to clean the glasses.

"Yeah, you can go, Grace. You look tired," you responded, brushing past her.

Reaching for the cloth. Hearing Tommy chuckle, you ignored him. Continuing with your work, anger bubbling. Leaving to fetch her coat and bag, you heard Grace call goodbye. Before the heavy door fell shut once again.

"Y/n Y/L/N, tut, tut," Tommy spoke, as he lit a cigarette. "Where's your manners, ey? I think you upset our dear barmaid,"

Looking at him briefly, you rolled your eyes. Before taking the small ladder, to climb up the the top shelf. "She will get over it," you sighed, hearing the clip clop of Tommy's shoes, coming behind the bar. His cigarette smoke following him.

"What's up with you, ey?" he questioned, looking up at you, on the ladder. The shape of your curves visible, making the blood rush to his cock. "You not like her?"

Briefly glancing down at him, you tried to remain angry. His baby blue eyes gazing up at you, hair tousled from a long day. Blowing the smoke up to the ceiling. Just looking so fuckable.

"No... I don't," you replied, "She's fake," Reaching up again, to put the whiskey back. You wobbled on the ladder, "Shit," you gasped, grasping onto the shelf.

Climbing onto the ladder behind you, Tommy held your waist.

"Come on, climb down before you fall," The heat of his skin, could be felt through your thin dress. Without warning he lifted you, holding you tightly, before placing you on the bar counter.

"I've got you," he whispered, eyes flitting towards your lips.

"I wasn't going to fall," was all you could think of saying. He was now stood in between your legs, still holding your waist. The chemistry between you was electric.

"Grace..." he started, tucking your hair behind your ear, fingertips tracing along your cheek.

"Tommy, seriously?" you answered, trying to push him away. His strong hands stopping you.

"Just listen, hmm?" he pleaded, his lips landing on yours, catching you off guard. Holding them against yours, feeling like they belonged there. That he was meant to kiss you. Taking your breath away.

“Grace means nothing to me, she’s nothing to me. She works for me, that’s it. You….” Grabbing your hips, he pulled you further to him. Bodies moulding together.

“Are the one… the one I love,” There, he had said it, said the words out loud, he had confessed. Finally! After Polly being in his ear, for the past six months.

She was convinced you felt the same.

"You do?" you whispered, looking up at him, willing him to say it again.

Reaching behind you, he stubbed out his cigarette. Holding your face gently, nose brushing against yours. "Y/N Y/L/N, you are a beautiful, fierce, loyal woman. And I love you, I want us to be together,"

The ticking of the clock in the background could be heard, as silence descended. Tommy eagerly awaiting your answer.

"I love you too, Thomas Shelby, always have," you confessed, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling relief that he felt the same as you. "Kiss me again," Reaching up, you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I'm taking you home, and I'm gonna do more than kiss you, eh," he warned you, nibbling at your neck.

"Ah god, Tommy, keep going," you screamed, as he thrust into you. Your second orgasm fast approaching, his hips rolling into your, lips connecting.

"Will you be mine, Y/n?" he asked, lips brushing against yours. Before upping his speed again, fucking you so deep and hard.

"Yes, yes," you screamed, answering his question as you came undone again.....

Tags- @cloudofdisney @romanogersendgame @goldensunflowe-r @captivatedbycillianmurphy @lauren-raines-x @katsav17 @answer-the-sirens @kathrinemelissa @datewithgianni @geminiwolves @lyarr24 @ysmmsy @mysticaldeanvoidhorse @dolllol2405 @padfootdaredmetoo @cheekybluefox @stevie75 @blyanyan @cevans-winchester @shadow-hunters-lover @look-at-the-soul @livelifewondering @duckybird101 @lespendy @raychhh @dressedinpoetrysblog @cillmequick @castellandiangelo @midnightmagpiemama @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @elenavampire21 @angelic-kisses13 @cljordan-imperium @peakyscillian @pono-pura-vida @already-broken144 @muhahaha303 @kmc1989 @lilorphanann @amberpanda99 @bernelflo @trixie23 @globetrotter28 @in0320 @laylasbunbunny @lau219 @surfin-the-sun @fiokw @fuseburner @crispynutella @snowtargaryen @neonpurplestars89-blog @danzer8705 @hagarsays

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Happy Birthday Oppie😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Happy birthday to Robert Oppenheimer who would be 120 today!

22/04/1904

[forgottenpeakywriter]

Forbidden Desire (Part 23)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

"I should have him killed," Tommy said as soon as Robert left the room, but you bristled at the suggestion.

"No, Tommy, you can't do that!" you objected. "This is all my fault, I know that and I will find a way to fix this," you promised gravely, eyes pleading for Tommy to reconsider. And, even though you too knew the full weight of your actions, somehow your heart didn't feel heavy, not yet. Instead, you still felt the euphoria of being with him: the exhilarating feeling as though his love was an intoxicating drug that coursed through your veins.

"Relax. I wasn't serious," Tommy conceded, softening his expression as he observed you, although he knew well that, by keeping Robert alive, there was always a risk the truth could inevitably bubble to the surface.

"I'll make sure he never breathes a word about this though," Tommy promised, his voice firm and his eyes hard and you nodded silently, still reeling from what had just happened.

" Tommy," you eventually whispered meekly after almost three minutes of silence, your heart pounding as you reached for his hand and he took it in his own, his grip warm and steady.

"Yes, Love?" he asked, intently focused on your expression.

"I don't want you to marry Lizzie," you admitted quietly, your heart still reeling from the whirlwind of emotion that had swept through the room.

Tommy let out a sigh, releasing your hand as he turned away and paced toward the large fireplace at the far end of the room.

Gripping the mantlepiece with white-knuckled intensity, he spoke in a low growl towards the flames dancing merrily within the hearth.

"Love, it's already done and it's for the best, eh" he insisted. "I can't call off the wedding and I most certainly can't be with you, no matter how much I want to," he added, his voice thick with regret.

The air in the room became heavy, filled with unspoken emotions that weighed down on you like a poorly fitted corset, squeezing the air from your lungs.

You searched his face, trying to find any kind of warmth that could hint at the love he said he felt for you, but his gaze remained fixed on the fire crackling within the hearth.

"I can't just forget about us though," you admitted softly, taking a tentative step towards him as if approaching a caged lion. "I read the letters," you told him with tears in your eyes.

"Yes, the letters I never send to you for a fucking reason," he snapped, his disappointment written clearly across the hard lines of his handsome face. "You are my goddamn niece for fuck sake!"  Tommy thundered, spinning around rapidly and taking a step towards you. The blazing fire behind him illuminated his sculpted face, casting deep shadows across his features as he looked at you with an expression that swung between despair and frustration. 

"But we didn't know when all of this started between us,"  you protested quietly, maintaining the fragile connection between you.

"Does it fucking matter now, Love?" Tommy ground out, his voice a rasp of gravel and anger as he stared down at you.

You trembled under his gaze, those blue eyes that could both soothe and incite fear burning with an intensity that left you wanting to surrender, even as your heart screamed at you to run.

"Society won't care about whether we knew or not. No one would ever fucking marry us and I certainly won't get into the House of Fucking Commons if it was to be found out that  I fucked my own niece," Tommy growled, his body rigid with tension.

"I cannot change the fact that we are related, and I cannot change the fact that I want you more than anything in this world. But it doesn't fucking matter. We just -," Tommy began, only to be cut off by your lips on his. 

"Shut up," you whispered, your voice thick with desire.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him to you, kissing him deeply. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he hesitated for just a moment before he kissed you back, his lips devouring yours with a passion that took your breath away.

Tommy's hands were on your waist, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his arousal pressing into you, hot and hard. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you up onto the desk, spreading your legs apart.

"I don't want marriage. I don't even want you to admit, in public, that you have feelings for me, but I want to be with you occasionally and I don't want to fucking share you," you panted, your voice shaking with desire as his hands roamed your body.

"Y/N, we can't do this," Tommy groaned, even as his lips found your neck and his breath ghosted against your skin. "But I can't fucking keep my hands off you either," he admitted, the words like a confession against your heated flesh. "What are you doing to me?" Tommy breathed, hands gripping your hips so tightly it was almost painful. But you reveled in the knowledge that you had this effect on him, a man who was so in control of everything around him, reduced to a panting, pleading mess of sensations.

You arched your back, breaking the kiss as you reached upwards, unbuttoning his shirt again. The strong lines and shadows of his chest unfolded before you like an illicit gift and you couldn't resist running your fingers over his skin, feeling the thrum of his heartbeat under your touch.

"I need your cock inside me , Tommy," you demanded, biting your lower lip as you looked up at him with a hunger that he mirrored in his eyes.

He groaned at your words, low and deep in his throat, his blue eyes darkening with desire as they locked on you.

You reached down to pull your skirt up further, exposing yourself to him as he pushed his trousers down and stood between your open legs, his throbbing need evident of its fierce desire.

Tommy's hungry gaze never left yours as he pushed into you in one sharp movement.

Your head fell back with a gasp, his name spilling from your lips as you welcomed him deeper inside.

You were wet and ready, the slickness coating his length as he filled you completely. The feeling was indescribable; pleasure mixed with guilt and longing that made your heart race and your mind whirl with emotions.

Tommy's eyes blazed with lust as he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he moved within you.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N," he groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "You feel so fucking good."

Despite the cold air in the room, sweat beaded on both of your brows as you matched his thrusts, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The desk beneath you creaked and shifted with each harsh movement, but neither of you cared. The world outside this room didn't matter, only the two of you and the primal connection between you until, finally, you reached your high.

"Oh my fucking god , Tommy!" you screamed as your orgasm tore through your body. His name tasted sweet on your lips and you relished in the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin as you clenched around him. "Yes, yes, just like that," you gasped, your head thrown back and eyes closed in pleasure as he drove into you harder. Tommy's movements became more frenzied, his control slipping as he chased his release.

"Fuck , Y/N," he growled, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble as his hips snapped forward. "You're going to make me come so hard."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, igniting the flames of your own renewed desire.

You clenched around him, milking his cock with your thighs wrapped tightly around his waist as he continued to piston in and out of you until, finally, he stilled.

Groaning even louder than before, Tommy emptied himself deep within you, seed dripping from your still-quivering entrance as he fell forward, resting his forehead against yours.

His breaths came in short pants, and you smiled as his cock twitched in the aftermath of its climax within your warmth. 

"Fuck I love you," Tommy muttered, eyes drifting closed as a sigh of pure ecstasy passed through his lips. He shivered against you.

"I love you too,"  you whispered back, the warmth of your breath brushing against his cheek, causing goosebumps to rise up all over his body.

You sat and stood there for a moment, completely intertwined with one another, your chests heaving in sync. The only sound in the room was the steady beating of your hearts and the labored breaths leaving your lungs.

You looked up at Tommy and noticed the satisfied, blissful expression on his face that you had put there.

His hair was slightly damp with sweat and stuck to your forehead as his body relaxed against yours on the desk. The satisfaction that warmed you up from the inside, knowing that you had done this to him, was unparalleled. You loved seeing him lose control, even if it was just for a moment in time. After a few moments of post-sex silence, Tommy slowly pulled out of you and stood up straight. His body glistened with the sweat of exertion and desire and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you draped over his desk, thoroughly fucked.

But the smile quickly faded as reality came crashing back down.

"We can't keep doing this, Love," he muttered, tucking his shirt back into his trousers and doing up his belt. "I am getting married tomorrow," he reminded you, causing you to nod. 

"I know," you replied softly, still catching your breath. The feeling of emptiness as he pulled out of you was a stark reminder of the cruel reality. "I know it's wrong, Tommy."

He leaned over the desk and kissed you gently on the lips, a small promise that he would always protect you.

As you pulled your skirt back down and fixed your hair, Tommy took one last look at you before turning to leave the room. The silence of the study felt heavy and charged, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in your chest.

You watched as he walked out of the room, leaving you alone in a state of blissful satisfaction, and the chilliness of the room brought reality crashing back down around you. You knew that this moment couldn't last forever, but it was something that you would cherish nonetheless.

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Hola, Mar! ❤️❤️.

I'm here to sending you a request. Tommy telling his kids (it can be both of them, or just Charlie or just Ruby) a story about his mother. We know he didn't have good memories about her especially because what happened, but maybe, he remembered something maybe a bedtime story (or a recipe, music, etc) and he tells them about her. The kids didn't know her, but after that moment maybe they can imagine how their grandma was ❤️.

My dear Flor @justrainandcoffee thank you so much for sending this request!!!! I knew I had to make it extra special since it’s part of my Grandma’s series 👵🏻♥️✨ so I didn’t want to rush it. This made me go back in time to our endless sleepovers, it made me think of her. I hope you enjoy this 💕

Special thanks to @blondie-22 for creating the BEAUTIFUL moodboard, like always you capture the exact essence of the story 🥰

Edit: A/N part of this story is inspired by a song called Toy Soldier by Martika

Word count 1,172

Toy Soldier

The bedroom door cracked louder than Tommy expected, he cursed himself internally because it was late and the house was quiet, the last thing he needed was to wake up his wife.

But she was already up and leaned against the window, the shadow of her frame only visible under the moonlight. Frowning, he stopped taking off his suit jacket midway when he noticed something was under the blankets of his bed.

“Why are you up?” He whispered.

“Charlie’s having trouble with bedtime.” She replied back. “He thinks there’s a monster under his bed.” She then added but also gave him a warning look so he better wouldn’t laugh it off.

“There’s no such thing.”

“They wanted to sleep here for reassurance.” Y/N placed her hands on his chest to lean in for a quick kiss. “He was so scared last night.”

“Daddy?” Ruby’s small voice broke the silence of the room.

Charlie stirred and his eyes fluttered open.

“Go back to sleep.” Tommy urged them.

“There’s a monster under my bed, I heard noises.” Charlie assured him.

Sitting next to his son, Tommy caressed his blonde hair in a loving way.

“I can assure you there’s no monster under your bed, son.” Tommy explained in a calmed tone.

“But I heard…”

Tommy shook his head gently, knowing it was a good time to share a fond memory that suddenly hit him hard. After being pushed back to the farthest place of his mind for years…

“You’ve nothing to worry about,” Tommy assured his boy, then turning to face Y/N he invited her over the bed, “you want to hear what really is?”

“I do Daddy.” Ruby replied while Charlie nodded.

“It’s the toy soldier.” Tommy assured his kids. Then clearing his throat he continued. “All toys come up to life around three in the morning, when the house is quiet and you and your sister are sleeping, they start playing by themselves. But when you wake up, they stop because you must not see them.”

His voice and the fabulous tale he was narrating had both his children and Y/N captivated.

“But how do you know?” Charlie asked trying to understand.

Tommy raised his eyebrows, taking his time to explain it properly.

“Well, that’s ‘cause when I was about your age, I heard noises in my room too.”

Y/N noticed the emotions shining in his eyes and his voice.

“And you had toys like mine?” Charlie asked but Tommy shook his head.

“No, I had a horse made of wood, uncle Charlie made it for me.”

Ruby was in awe. “Like a real horse?”

“Yes but a small one, I carried it everywhere.” He relaxed against the pillows, Y/N knew his childhood wasn’t easy, he was forced to mature earlier than other kids.

“So one night I was terrified and went to sleep with my Mum and she told me it was my toys playing.”

“And she told you how did she know?”

“No, she didn’t.”

And both kids went on to ask a million more questions about their grandma, a loving figure they never got the chance to meet. To Tommy this meant much more than he could put into words, he went on to describe her features, mannerisms and and few secrets, so his kids could feel her close to them in some way.

He didn’t know, but through them and their curiosity, he was healing a part of his broken heart by remembering the good moments, her legacy.

Y/N could see the way their imagination was running wild trying to put a face for such mysterious woman, trying to think of what was like to be on road forever stuck in a caravan as they said, asking how she could ride bareback a horse without falling.

Tommy rarely talked about his mother, it had always been something that was buried deep inside his heart, a very sensitive topic, Y/N knew how much it had hurt him to lose her at such young age. Not having her when he needed her the most definitely left a permanent scar in his heart. Y/N wondered how different would Tommy be under another circumstances.

And by the way he described his mother, Y/N realized he looked so much like her instead of his father, which given the circumstances, was a blessing. Although, thanks to Polly who took the role as a mother figure for the Shelby siblings, they had managed much better than if Arthur Sr. was in charge.

“Why can’t we play with them?” Asked Ruby with a deep frown.

“Because after playing with you all day, they get to work by playing, the soldier gotta watch out the fort right?” He stared at Charlie. “And your doll has to drink some more tea, ey.”

Then, a gentle smile played on his lips.

“So you gotta go to sleep to let them play, so they can enjoy their own time.”

“That’s why I heard noises.” Charlie seemed to think about it for a second.

“Yeah.” Tommy winked at them.

“But my teddy stays with me all night.” Ruby stated.

“Hmm he’s gotta take care of you.”

“Can we stay here? So they can play?” Charlie’s eyes sparkled.

Y/N nodded feeling touched by the way Tommy managed to help Charlie leave his fears behind. Loving the way his innocent mind was processing everything.

“Of course, now just let’s all squeeze in together.”Tommy proposed. Feeling Y/N’s hand touching his hand, he looked up at her.

Soon both kids were fast asleep. The story about their toys playing and making noises was the explanation they needed to hear, to feel Tommy’s reassurance.

Y/N observed her husband taking off his clothes, hiding the gun in a drawer and coming back to bed. Thinking how of course not everything is as it should be, and the kids would realize of the truth one day…but she was more than happy to enjoy that little moment in their own little bubble while it lasted.

“That was beautiful.”

He nodded in agreement. He rarely allowed himself to have moments like these, but he felt the need to open his heart with his own happy memory with his mother, gone too soon. She had missed a lot of important events in his life that he was determined to try to be there for his children.

And at least, he could honor her memory by sharing some stories like the one where the toys start playing after midnight.

Turning off the lights of their bedside tables, Tommy drifted to sleep right away and saw the image of his mother wrapping her arms around a younger version of himself protectively, answering all the questions he had about how could his horse toy could not move during the day, or how would drink water if the river was so far away… and he saw her in his dreams smiling adoringly at him before kissing the top of his head.

Grandma series

Tommy Master list

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Best Man

Pairing- Thomas Shelby and Reader

Summary- Tommy is best man for Arthur. (just a little drabble)

Crossing your bedroom, you softly called your husband’s name. Placing his whiskey down, with a deep sigh, he turned to face you. Smiling you reached up, taking his face in your hands. Fingers grazing along his sharp cheekbones.

Holding his eye contact, you pressed a kiss to his full lips. "Are you ok?" you questioned, voice full of concern.

"M' fine," he answered, letting you just hold him. Releasing his face, you took hold of his tie. Beginning to complete the knot for him.

"Fine?" you repeated, "Fine is a strong word, with lots of different meanings, Tommy," Tightening the knot, he just observed you, keeping quiet. He knew you were right, and no he wasn't fine.

"He's making a mistake," he stated, with a shake of his head. "He shouldn't be marrying her,"

You had been through this conversation everyday, for the past two weeks. “I know that’s what you think, but you have to respect Arthur’s wishes. He loves Linda,”

Tommy scoffed, beginning to fasten his cufflinks. “Loves Linda, he just wants someone to take his name. Someone to go home to, at the end of a long day,”

Walking to the mirror, he fixed his hair for the fourth time. He was anxious, you could tell. The nerves of being “best man” were clear to see.

“Is that so wrong? If Linda makes him happy… we should be happy for him,” you tried to reason with your husband. You had been lucky when you met Tommy. You already knew his family. You couldn’t imagine how Linda felt.

She was a total outsider.

Reaching out for you, Tommy took your left hand. Kissing the wedding and engagement rings, which sat upon your third finger.

“Not everyone can be as lucky as me, eh,” Tommy held your gaze. “I will try and be happy for him, ok?”

Rolling your eyes, you headed for your dresser. Spraying perfume, liberally across your skin. “And you have to try and smile, at least once during the vows. It’s a happy occasion Thomas,”

“Is it?” Tommy mumbled, heading for the door. Wishing the day was already over, no Linda wasn’t right for Arthur. He just knew it….

But… time would tell.

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Sweet Possession (Part 4)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

"What is going on, Tommy?" you asked when he came back inside,  still feeling a little uneasy about what you had seen outside.

Thomas hesitated, his eyes darting around the room before settling on your face. "Just business, Love," he said dismissively, but there was a guarded look in his eyes that made you think he was hiding something.

"But what kind of business?" you pressed, your voice tight with apprehension.

"Business that I cannot discuss with you,"  Thomas replied, a hard edge to his voice.

You flinched at this, recoiling slightly from him. "Can't, or won't?" you asked, your eyes narrowing with suspicion.

Thomas sighed heavily, running a hand through his damp hair. "Can't," he said firmly. "It's better that way."

But you couldn't let it go. Something in your gut was telling you that there was more to this than he was letting on, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.

"I am your wife, Thomas. You made me a promise on our wedding day to always be honest with me. I deserve to know what's going on," you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture.

Thomas sighed and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He took a long sip before setting the glass back down on the table with a heavy thud. "I have been asked to export certain things on behalf of the Crown. Things that the Crown cannot itself be seen  to be involved with," Thomas finally admitted, his voice tense and low.

Your eyes widened with shock as you absorbed his words. The Crown? Exporting things that they couldn't be seen to be involved with? What on earth could that mean?

"What kind of things?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

Thomas hesitated before finally answering, "Weapons. Guns. Ammunition," Tommy explained, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"Illegal things," you gasped, your heart twisting with a mix of fear and disappointment.

"Not illegal, just controversial," Thomas replied, his voice still low and tense. "And necessary. It helps fund our operations and the facilities we support, including the orphanage you want to work in," he told you and you stared at him, your mind reeling with the implications of his words.

"So, it is legitimate? Because you are doing this on behalf of the crown?"  you asked, struggling to make sense of the information Tommy had just revealed to you.

Tommy nodded. "It's a delicate matter but, of course, I wouldn't do anything illegal. You know that, right?" Thomas asked, his eyes pleading for your understanding.

You nodded slowly, taking in the weight of this new information. "Of course. I trust you , Thomas," you finally whispered, albeit with some hesitation.

Thomas let out a sigh of relief at your words, pulling you into a tight embrace and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he murmured.

But as the night wore on, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was still amiss. The idea of Thomas being involved in such controversial and dangerous business left a bad taste in your mouth, and the thought of him endangering himself for the sake of others weighed heavily on your heart.

The following morning, however, you went on with your day as if nothing had happened. It was your first shift at the orphanage, to which you had agreed last minute as someone else had, apparently, called in sick.

Isiah, was again, tasked to drive you to the orphanage and, when you told him that he could simply drop you off and then pick you up later, he shook his head.

"No, I need to stay with you Mrs Shelby," he  replied, his voice brooking no argument.

You sighed inwardly, not wanting to cause a fuss but also slightly annoyed at the thought of having your every move shadowed by Isiah.

You couldn't shake off the feeling that he was keeping tabs on you for Thomas.

But you swallowed your pride, knowing that it wouldn't be wise to defy Thomas given everything that had happened the previous night. You assumed that he was just being overprotective of you and this was kind of sweet, you thought. 

The orphanage was buzzing when you arrived and a young man, around 25-years of age, greeted you in the grand hall of the big building. His name was James McKinnin , a well-known social worker of the city.

"Hi, it is so nice to meet you. I'm Y/N Shelby, Thomas' wife," you said with a smile, extending your hand towards him.

James clasped your hand firmly and shook it. "Mrs Shelby, of course. I heard that you we were coming," James told you , his voice full of enthusiasm. "Mr Shelby called me yesterday evening, at around midnight, to let me know that you would be joining us and it was quite a surprise, you know. Mr Shelby donates a lot of money to our organisation and I would not have expected his wife to volunteer with us as well," the man continued, his tone earnest as he led me down a long corridor.

"It's my pleasure and a little selfish really. I miss the work but, since I moved in with Thomas, I gave up my employment, so I have become rather bored," you said honestly and James smiled at my response.

"That's very commendable Mrs Shelby, but let me ask you, do you have any experience in a setting like this? Without meaning any disrespect, being Mr Shelby's wife, I had expected you to be a little older,"  James asked, his words laced with polite curiosity.

"No, but I am eager to learn, and I am certainly not afraid to do some hands-on work. Before meeting my husband, I worked in a factory and then in a pub, cleaning up after drunk men, so I am no stranger to hard labor," you replied with a small chuckle.

James smiled warmly at your response, clearly impressed by your determination and down-to-earth attitude. "That's fantastic, Mrs Shelby. I'm sure you'll be a great asset to our team. Let me give you a quick tour and introduce you to the other staff members," James said as he led you further into the orphanage. "Michael, one of our duty managers, will be looking after you and explain everything you need to know,"  he added as he spotted Michael in the distance.

Michael was a tall, slender man in his mid-twenties with short, curly brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile and shook your hand firmly, welcoming you to the orphanage. He then gave you a brief orientation and introduced you to the other staff members, who were all friendly and welcoming as well.

As you worked there, you began to realize just how much need there was in the community and how much of a difference your husband's donations were making.

You felt proud to be a part of it, even in a small way.

That day, Michael showed you everything you needed to know in a commercial kitchen setting, which is where you wanted to work. It was your passion, cooking for others and Michael appeared to be an excellent source of information.

Isiah, however, always stood in the corner, observing your interactions with the tall man who, for his liking, occasionally came to close to you when working in the kitchen.

"Here, let me show you," Michael said on one occasion as he approached you from behind, taking the knife from your hands. "This is an easier way to prepare the herbs for the soup," he said, brushing your arm ever so slightly and causing Isiah to intervene. 

"Everything alright here?" Isiah said, his tone stern and disapproving.

"Yes, of course," you replied, flustered at the intrusion. "Michael is just teaching me how to prepare the herbs for lunch," you added in an attempt to defuse the tension that had suddenly filled the air.

Michael nodded a greeting towards Isiah, who continued to glare at him with suspicion but nodded nonetheless.

Isiah then intervened a few more times over the next few hours, insinuating that Michael was getting too friendly and, eventually, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with his presence.

Despite this, however, the day had been productive and fulfilling for you. You had made new friends, learned new skills, and felt a sense of purpose that had been missing in your life for quite some time.

As the sun began to set, Isiah drove you back to Thomas' luxurious home and, just after Frances greeted you and Isiah, you made your way to Tommy's office.

"You are late," was the first thing he said , not looking up from the documents in front of him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling into the chair opposite him.

"I am sorry, I didn't realize the time," you answered with a small smile. "I was just so engrossed in what we were doing."

This seemed to appease him, and he looked up and smiled at you, reaching across the desk to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said softly.

"I did," you answered, squeezing his hand.

"I really did. I never knew that working in a kitchen could be so fulfilling."

Thomas smiled at your enthusiasm, his eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad," Tommy smiled before asking you for Isiah's whereabouts. 

"He is downstairs," you said. "Shall I send him up?"  you asked, your voice laced with a hint of caution. Thomas' demeanor had shifted again since that morning, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why.

"Yes, I have some business for him to take care of," Thomas replied, his tone curt and dismissive. You nodded and stood up from your chair, making your way to the door. But before you left, you turned back to Thomas and looked him in the eye.

"Is everything alright?" you asked, searching his face for any signs of distress. 

"Yes Love," Tommy said, forcing a smile onto his face. "Everything is fine," he added, although his voice didn't quite ring true.

You frowned at his response, not entirely convinced. But you nodded anyway and made your way to the door, calling for Isiah to come upstairs and, unbeknownst to you, what Tommy really wanted from him was an update on your day. 

"How was it?" Thomas thus asked as soon as Isiah walked into his office and closed the door behind him.

"It was fucking boring ," Isiah replied with a sigh, leaning against the door. "Just a bunch of kids and their annoying chatter," he explained to his boss who, of course, had some more questions.

"And what about the employees. Did they treat my wife with respect?" Tommy asked , his voice low and tense. 

"Of course, they did," Isiah replied with a shrug. "They were all very friendly, although, one of them was a bit too friendly in my opinion," he went on to say , causing Thomas's eyes to narrow.

"How so, Isiah?" Thomas asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Just one of them kept getting a little too close to her," Isiah replied with a shrug.

"Too close how?" Tommy queried with a steely glint in his blue eyes. He didn't like the sound of some man invading your personal space after he had secretly made sure, for many years, that you were shielded from these kinds of advances.  However, as Thomas pressed for more information, Isiah's response was casual and nonchalant.

"Just talking to her a lot, and touching her arm on occasion," Isiah finished, still leaning against the office door.

"He touched her?" Thomas repeated, his voice deceptively calm.

Isiah nodded. "Yeah, a couple of times," he confirmed before, explaining to Tommy again that the employee in question had only touched your arm. "Her arm, Tommy. Nothing else," Isiah clarified, sensing Thomas' growing tension. 

"Did you get his name?" Thomas asked, his voice low and growly as he clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to conceal his anger.

"Yeah. His name is Michael Grosvenor," Isiah told Thomas, his voice steady despite the dangerous look in his boss' eyes.

"Michael Grosvenor, eh" Thomas repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He would remember that name. "Did my wife seem interested in his advances?" Thomas then asked, trying to keep his voice even.

Isiah shook his head. "No, she seemed a little uncomfortable with it after it happened a few times, but she didn't say anything," he answered honestly.

Thomas nodded, his mind already racing with plans of how to handle this situation.

He had always made it clear to the men in town that his property was off-limits, but now it seemed that some of them had forgotten that rule.

"I see," Thomas said simply, his voice deadly calm. He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand in front of Isiah. "I want you to keep an eye on my wife whenever she's at the orphanage. Do you understand?" Thomas ordered, his voice low and commanding.

"Yes, boss," Isiah responded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He nodded once, before turning and exiting the room, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts which began to race incoherently until, eventually, he snapped out of it and walked downstairs to the reading room where he knew he would find you.

"Y/N, may I have a word?" Thomas said, his voice rough and low as he entered the room. He closed the door behind him with a definitive thud, before walking over to you, the sound of your own heavy breathing filling the air around you. 

"Of course," you responded, your voice a breathy whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as Thomas knelt down before you and pulled your legs apart, his gaze fixated on the lacy underwear you were wearing, catching you off guard. 

"Thomas," you gasped, your fingertips digging into the plush armchair you were sitting on as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, just above where your stockings met your skin.

"Isiah tells me that one of the employees at the orphanage got a little too close to you today," Thomas growled, his voice gravelly with desire.

You let out a soft moan as he traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear, the lace already damp with your arousal.

"No, oh god Tommy, it was innocent," you moaned , your head falling back as he pressed a tender kiss to your clit through the thin fabric.

But Thomas wasn't having it. He was insanely jealous and protective of you, and the thought of some man touching his property made him see red.

He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down your thighs, baring you to him. He growled as he saw how wet you were, your pussy glistening in the soft light of the room.

"Innocent, eh?" Tommy groaned. "Just like you were, just days ago, before we got married,"  he continued, pinching your clit firmly between his thumb and forefinger.

You cried out at the sensation, arching your back as you clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscular arms.

"Tommy," you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you with his fingers. "Please," you begged, not sure what you were asking for, but knowing that you needed more.

"Please what?"  Thomas rasped, his mouth hovering over your pussy as he waited for your response.

"Fuck me," you whimpered, unable to hold back the words any longer. 

"But why should I?" Tommy asked. "You let some stranger touch what's mine and now you want me to give you what you want?"  Thomas growled, his fingers still teasing your clit. 

You whimpered as you processed his words, but the ache between your legs was insistent. 

"He didn't. I mean, he touched my arm. Oh god, please,"  you moaned, pulling his head towards your core, desperate for some kind of release.

Thomas chuckled and obliged, pressing a tender kiss to your clit before slipping a finger inside you. You gasped at the intrusion, your back arching off the chair as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, his thumb still teasing your clit.

You felt yourself building towards your release, but just as you got close, Thomas pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and unfulfilled.

"No, don't stop," you begged, your voice breathy and desperate.

Thomas smiled at you wickedly, his fingers still slick with your arousal. "Tell me who you belong to, Y/N. Who owns you, eh?" Thomas repeated, circling your clit with his thumb as you writhed beneath him. "Say it."

"You do," you gasped, your breath hitching as he stroked your aching core with deliberate slowness.

"Be precise," he demanded, his voice low and raw with need.

"You own me. You own my body. I'm yours," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.

Thomas smiled, a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. He held up his fingers, still slick with your arousal, and sucked them into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

"Good girl," he praised, his eyes dark with desire as he reached for his belt.

You watched him undo the belt, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for what was to come next.

Thomas pulled the belt from the loops of his trousers, the sound of the leather slithering through the buckle echoing in the stillness.

"Tell me again," he commanded, his voice rough and ragged with desire as he approached you, the belt coiled in his hand like a snake ready to strike. "Who do you belong to?"

"You, Thomas," you panted, your eyes wide and fixed on the belt in his hand. "I'm yours. Only yours," you confirmed, your voice heavy with desire.

Thomas' eyes blazed with a primal hunger as he lifted the belt and brought it down against your inner thigh with a sharp crack.

You gasped at the sudden sting, your eyes watering with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Thomas watched you carefully, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or distress. But all he saw was your desire-filled gaze locked onto his, inviting him to continue.

He raised the belt again, bringing it down on your other thigh with an equally sharp crack. You whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking up towards him as you begged for more.

Thomas' eyes narrowed as he dropped the belt to the floor with a thud, his hands going straight to your hips to hold you in place. He tugged your legs apart wider, his gaze locked onto the glistening folds of your aching pussy.

"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing the slick seam of your core.

He spread your arousal over your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing under his touch. "And all mine," he growled, his eyes flashing with a primal hunger as he pushed down his pants , his hard cock springing free.

You moaned as he positioned himself at your entrance, notching the tip of his shaft against your slick folds. "Yes," you hissed, digging your nails into his shoulders as you arched your back, ready for him.

Thomas thrust into you in one swift movement, filling you to the hilt. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he buried himself inside you.

Thomas groaned as he felt you tighten around him, your walls clenching him like a vice.

"Fuck, Y/N," Thomas growled, his hips pistoning in and out of you in a punishing rhythm. He reached down between your bodies and found your swollen clit with his thumb. He pressed down on it, rubbing it in slow circles as he continued to thrust into you.

You moaned as he touched you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

Thomas was merciless, his hips slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.

Thomas reached down and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing gently as he powered into you. You whimpered at the feeling of his hand on your throat, your pussy clenching around his cock in response.

"You like that, don't you?" Thomas growled, his voice low and raw with desire. He had never taken you like this before, so possessively and it quickly became overwhelming for you.

The hand around your neck, the unyielding thrusts, and the sound of his hips slapping against yours. The pleasure was so intense that it bordered on pain. But, before you knew it, your orgasm was already creeping up on you. With every circling motion of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you felt yourself getting close to the edge.

"Come for me, Y/N," Thomas rasped through gritted teeth as he continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace.

"I want to feel you come all over my cock."

Your breath hitched as the heat within you coiled tightly, ready to unravel at any moment. Your legs shook around Thomas' waist, trying to keep contact as he hit your sweetspot over and over again.

With one last, hard circle of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you cried out as you toppled over the edge. Your orgasm tore through your body like a freight train, leaving you panting and trembling in its wake.

Thomas groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, milking his cock as you came. He continued to piston in and out of you, chasing after his own release which came much faster than he had expected.

Pulling out of you quickly, he cupped your mound, his fingers massaging and teasing the sensitive folds of skin as he watched you come down from your orgasm while he stroked his cock.  He was so turned on by the sight of your pleasure that he couldn't help but take his own.

"Touch yourself, Y/N," he growled. "I want to watch you make yourself cum again, Love," he told you and so you did. 

Your fingers hovered above for a moment before brushing over the sensitive nub of your clit.  You gasped at the contact, your hips bucking as you felt yourself growing more and more aroused.

Thomas' eyes blazed with desire as he watched you touch yourself, his hand continuing to stroke his cock in long, languid movements. He groaned as he saw your pink flesh flush a deep red, your arousal unmistakable.

"Yes, just like that," Thomas rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "Make yourself come again."

You whimpered at his words, your fingers moving faster over your clit as your pleasure mounted.

"Oh god, Thomas," you gasped, your legs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Thomas groaned, his hand moving faster as he watched you touch yourself until, finally, he too came, hard and fast.

He grunted as he spilled his seed onto your stomach, the thick, white ropes of his release painting your skin in a primal display of possession.

You watched him, your chest heaving as you caught your breath, your pussy still clenching in aftershocks of pleasure. Thomas' eyes met yours, the dark desire in them sending another flush of heat through your body.

"Jealousy suits you , Tommy," you whispered, your fingers still stroking your sensitive clit.

Thomas chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "I'm not jealous, Y/N. But what's mine is mine and  I won't have anyone else touching it," Thomas growled, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip as you lay panting beneath him, his tone determined. 

"Nothing happened," you reassured him, your voice softer than a whisper. "It was just a small touch. It was inadvertent, innocent and it meant nothing."

Thomas nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before pulling up his pants. 

"I can't help it, Y/N," Thomas admitted, his voice low and rough. "I need to know that you're mine.

Only mine," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. 

"I am," you whispered, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him weak at the knees. "I've always been yours, Tommy. Only yours," you repeated, emphasizing the words that seemed to drive him wild and, whilst you had boyfriends before him, none of these relationships really lasted.

One of the men you had been with before meeting Tommy was killed in a fire following your second date while the other had disappeared without a trace, as had your brother. Men seemed to always have abandened you until now.

Until Thomas Shelby. Thomas had been a constant force in your life. Never leaving, never giving up on you and always making sure that you were safe and secure. But as much as you belonged to him, he belonged to you too. 

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Sweet Possession (Part 3)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

Later that day, just as you were waiting for your husband to return home, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety  in your stomach as you thought back to your strange encounter at the Italian grocer earlier that day.

The way the man's eyes had flickered down to the gun hidden beneath Isiah's jacket, before quickly averting his gaze. The memory sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.

Despite that, you quickly put those thoughts aside as you heard Tommy’s footsteps carrying through the door of Arrow House.

You glanced at the clock hanging in the hallway, realizing that it was already shortly after eight o’clock in the evening.

Thomas walked into the reading room where you were sitting, nursing a glass of wine, the dinner you prepared waiting in the oven to stay warm. He was, still wearing his coat and looked somewhat tired. 

"I am sorry I am late , Love," he greeted you, dropping a quick kiss on your forehead.

"Is everything alright?" you asked your husband, concern etched in your voice as you gazed into his tired eyes. You noticed that there were faint lines around his eyes that you hadn't seen before.

"Yes , everything's fine," Thomas assured you, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, trying not to let your suspicions get the better of you.

"Good. I'll go and serve dinner then," you said, standing up from the sofa and making your way into the kitchen but, just as you stood up, you noticed some red blood stains on the collar of his shirt which he was clearly trying to hide by leaving on his coat.

Nonetheless, you decided not to address it, giving Thomas a reassuring smile before you walked off.

"I should have a shower first, Love. It has been a long day," Thomas told you truthfully in passing, his voice still low but there was a lilt to it, like he was keeping something from you.

"That's fine. Just come down when you are ready," you called after him from the hallway and he gave you a quick nod and a smile before disappearing upstairs.

Minutes later...

The dinner that you had prepared was delicious. The meat had cooked to tender perfection and the rich, earthy flavor of the mushrooms you had picked from the forest earlier that week complemented the dish beautifully. The aroma alone was enough to make your mouth water.

Carefully, you removed the dish from the oven and set it on the table in the nearby dining room, lighting the candles that you had arranged in its center. You had always loved setting a nice table, believing that food always tasted better when it was presented beautifully.

You had spent many hours as a young girl watching your mother, a talented cook, prepare meals for your family. Now, you were proud to use the skills she had taught you.

You had just finished setting the table when Thomas walked into the dining room, his dark hair still damp from his shower. He was wearing a clean white shirt and dark trousers, looking both comfortable and sophisticated. His face was free of stubble and his eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you.

"Something smells good," he commented, walking over to where you stood by the table and giving you a kiss.

You blushed, always feeling a little shy when Thomas praised you. 

"Thank you," you responded, making a small curtsy before taking your seat at the table. Thomas chuckled, sitting down across from you and reaching for the glass of whiskey you had already placed in front of him, knowing how much he enjoyed a drink as he dug into the food. 

"I enjoy cooking. In fact, I was thinking about doing some work at the local orphanage. The children there could really do with some decent meals , and it would give me a chance to feel useful," you told Tommy as you served yourself up some food as well, never enjoying the maids doing it for you. 

Thomas raised an eyebrow at this, studying you closely. "You want to work at the orphanage?"

You nodded, taking a sip of your wine. "Yes. I know how much you support local charities and causes. You're always helping people in need, and I want to do my part too."

Thomas smiled at this, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's very thoughtful of you, Love. I'm sure the children will appreciate it," Thomas replied, gazing at you with a softness that made your heart flutter. "But remember, Love, the world can be a dangerous place for a young woman and you, of all people, should know that, eh." 

"It's an orphanage, Tommy. It's not the Garrison," you chuckled, recalling the night he had saved you from a less than favorable situation.  Thomas cocked an eyebrow, his face growing serious.

"I know that, Love. But even so," he began to say, before trailing off, collecting his thoughts. "I will send Isiah with you," he then said, shaking his head and you stared at Thomas for a moment, surprised at the intensity of his words. It was clear that he was deeply concerned for your safety, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his protective nature.

"You are always so worried about me ," you told him with a soft smile, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. He met your gaze with a steady one of his own and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"It's my job to worry about you, Love," Thomas replied, his voice low and earnest. "You're my wife, and I want to keep you safe."

The two of you finished the rest of the meal in relative silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of silverware against china and the occasional sip of whiskey or wine.

Thomas watched you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. He had always been a protective man, although sometimes his methods could be a little unconventional. But you knew that in his heart, he always had your best interests at heart.

As you finished your meal and pushed your plate away, Thomas leaned back in his chair and gave you a small smile. "I have something I want to show you," he said, his voice low and mysterious.

You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "What is it?" you asked and Thomas smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

"It's a surprise, Love," he said, standing up from his chair and offering you his hand. "Come on, I'll show you."

You took his hand and let him lead you out of the dining room and down the hallway to his study. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a soft glow over the large wooden desk that dominated the space. Thomas closed the door behind you and crossed over to the desk, reaching for something behind it.

It was then that you noticed a large painting leaning against the wall, wrapped in thick brown paper.

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. Thomas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Patience, Love," he murmured, carefully unwrapping the painting to reveal an exquisite work of art. It was a portrait of you , a stunningly accurate depiction of your likeness, down to the last detail. Your eyes were wide with surprise as you took in the image of yourself, feeling a little self-conscious under Thomas' intense gaze.

"It's beautiful," you breathed, reaching out to touch the canvas. The brushstrokes were delicate and precise, capturing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your smile. You had never seen anything quite like it before.

"I had it commissioned as a wedding present," Thomas explained, his eyes never leaving your face.

"I wanted something to celebrate the woman you are, and the woman you're becoming."

His words sent a rush of warmth through you, filling your heart with a sense of love and pride. You had never felt so cherished, so adored. It was an incredible feeling, one that left you breathless and overwhelmed.

You stood there, hand still resting on the painting, heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Thomas' eyes. You could see the raw desire burning in his gaze, the hunger that told you he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas stepped closer to you.

His hand reached out, gently grasping a tendril of your hair, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Thomas growled, his breath hot against your skin.

Your heart raced as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.

"Tommy ," you gasped, your voice barely audible as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before cupping your breasts over your dress.

"Yes, Love?" Thomas murmured against your lips, his thumb teasing your nipples through the fabric until they hardened beneath his touch.

You moaned softly, arching your back into his touch as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance that was both familiar and thrilling.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as the hunger inside of you grew stronger.

"I want you, Tommy," you whispered hoarsely, your breath hot against his ear.

Thomas responded with a growl, his hands tugging at your dress until it slid down to your feet, leaving you standing there in nothing but your lacy underwear.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Thomas groaned, taking a step back to drink in the sight of you. "And you are mine," he added possessively, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip with his fingertips.

You shivered at his touch, feeling a pulse of desire low in your belly. You had never felt so desired, so wanted before. It was intoxicating.

"Yes, I'm yours," you whispered, reaching out to touch him in turn. Your hands found their way to his belt, the metal buckle cool against your skin as you undid it and slid it free from its loops.

Thomas groaned as you began to undo the buttons of his trousers, revealing the hard length of his cock beneath.

"Fuck, Love," Thomas gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvety softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

You pulled him forward, pressing your lips to his collarbone and trailing kisses down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt and sank to your knees before him all at the same time.

The scent of him was musky and intoxicating, and you couldn't resist the urge to take him into your mouth.

"I have never done this before," you confessed, looking up at him with shy, yet eager eyes.

Thomas' expression softened at the admission, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "I know , Love," he murmured. "I'll guide you." And with those words, you opened your mouth eagerly, waiting for him to make the first move.

Your tongue darted out, teasing his tip and tasting his pre-cum as it leaked out. Thomas moaned deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper, urging you to taste more of him.

You complied eagerly, exploring every inch of him with your mouth as Thomas thrust gently into your throat. Your hands wandered up to his toned ass, pulling him closer as you sucked and licked with abandon.

Thomas' breath hitched as you drew back, gasping for air before sliding back down on him once more.

"Good girl ," Thomas grunted, guiding your head back down onto him.

You could feel the trembling in his legs as you worked him with your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure building to a peak.

"I'm going to cum, Love," Thomas warned, his voice low and strained. "Do you think you can swallow it?" Thomas asked, his voice tight with anticipation. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and nodded eagerly.

"Good girl," he praised you before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pumping his hips faster.

You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, feeling the throbbing of his cock intensify until finally, Thomas thrust deep into your throat and held it there as he came hard. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could, feeling the hot streams of cum coat your tongue before spilling out of the corners of your mouth.

You felt a sense of pride wash over you as you took it all in, Thomas's hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

Finally, with one last gasp, Thomas pulled out, his cock sliding free from your mouth with a wet, sucking sound. You looked up at him with a sense of accomplishment and longing, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him.

Thomas reached down and gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

His eyes were soft, filled with love and admiration. You blushed under his gaze, feeling both proud and self-conscious at the same time.

"God, you're beautiful," Thomas murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "And so fucking sexy."

Your blush deepened at the compliment, but you didn't look away. Instead, you reached up and took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips for a gentle kiss. Thomas smiled at the gesture, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as he looked down at you with a hunger that made your heart race.

"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you."

You stood up, stepping closer to Thomas as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the evidence of your earlier efforts still slick against your thighs. The combined scent of him and of yourself left you heady, intoxicated by the smell of raw, unbridled sexuality.

His mouth found yours again, his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss that left you breathless and trembling in his arms.

"I always wanted you to do things to me, on this big desk of yours," you giggled nervously  , your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Thomas's grin deepened, his hands roaming your body with a possessiveness that made you shiver.

"Then what are you waiting for, Love?" He murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You didn't need any more encouragement than that. Within seconds, you had pulled your underwear down your legs and climbed up onto the desk, positioning yourself so that your ass was right at the edge.

"So fucking perfect ," Thomas growled, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of you spread out before him, ready and willing.

You felt a rush of heat flood your body, the thought of being so exposed heightening your arousal to new heights.

Thomas reached out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist before moving up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending pulses of pleasure straight to your core.

You moaned softly, arching your back and pressing yourself into his touch.

Thomas' mouth found yours again, his lips silencing your cries as his fingers continued to tease your nipples.

"You like that, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice low and sultry.

"Yes," you gasped, your breath hitching as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. "Please, Thomas."

Thomas grinned at the plea, his fingers leaving your breasts to trace a path down your stomach and towards the apex of your thighs.

"God, you're so fucking wet for me," Thomas groaned against your mouth, his fingers brushing through your folds before delving deep within you.

You gasped, your back arching off the desk as Thomas began to thrust his fingers in and out of you. Each stroke hit a spot deep within you, driving you wild with pleasure.

"Please Love, let me cum inside you ," Thomas groaned, his breath hot against your ear.

"No , I- I can't," you gasped, feeling the familiar fluttering deep within your belly.

"Please ," Thomas begged as, finally, he aligned himself with your wetness and thrust into you with one swift push, but you knew that if you let Thomas cum inside of you, there was a chance you could end up pregnant. And with your life the way it was, the last thing you needed right now was a child.

You shook your head, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your husband bottomed out inside of you.

God, he felt amazing. But you knew that this was as far as you could go.\

"I am sorry," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas began to thrust his hips against yours, driving himself in deep and hard. "I-I can't. I'm sorry."

But Thomas seemed to understand.

"It's alright, Love," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from your face with a tender hand. "I'll just make a mess instead," he chuckled in between groans as he continued to thrust in and out of you.

Your nails dug into the desk, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Thomas's hips snapped against yours, his cock hitting that delicious spot inside of you.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your pelvis bucking to meet his thrusts. "Harder."

Thomas growled at the demand and obliged, his cock pounding into you with bruising force. You cried out, throwing your head back and bracing yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic, his breaths coming in short panting gasps.

"Fuck, I'm close Love," he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.

You nodded frantically, feeling your own pleasure coiling deep within you. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as your own orgasm built within you.

Your nails dug into the surface of the desk even harder now as Thomas continued to drive into you with an almost brutal force. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, your breasts bouncing in time with each stroke.

"Yes, Tommy! Oh god , I'm gonna cum!" You screamed as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.

Thomas's thrusts became erratic as he too, found his release, his hot seed filling the air around you as he pulled out and used his hand to finish the job.

You collapsed back onto the desk, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Thomas leaned over you, his arms braced on either side of your head as he caught his own breath.

"Fuck, Love," he groaned before, suddenly, you were being interrupted by one of the maids.

The sound of a knock on the door broke through your haze of pleasure, and Thomas quickly pulled away from you with an annoyed expression on his face. You each gathered your clothes and Thomas barked, not bothering to conceal his irritation at being interrupted in the middle of such an intimate moment.

The maid, a young girl with mousy brown hair and a pinched expression on her face, looked at the ground as she spoke, knowing exactly what you had been doing, 

"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a matter that needs your immediate attention."

Thomas sighed heavily and rubbed his temples with his fingers. he asked, his voice clipped and impatient.

"It's the new shipment of whiskey, sir," the maid replied nervously. "The delivery driver says it was damaged during transport, and he refuses to hand it over until you inspect it yourself."

The maid's statement caught Tommy by surprise. "Y/N, go upstairs!" he ordered you in a way he had not spoken to you before.

"Excuse me?" you asked, annoyed with the way Thomas had spoken to you. You were still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and, frankly, the last thing you wanted was him to snap at you like this. It was unlike him. 

Thomas let out a long-suffering sigh. "I am sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like this, but I need you to go upstairs and stay there. Please," he added as an afterthought, his voice softening.

"Fine ," you muttered, annoyance tingeing your voice as you slid off the desk and started to pull your panties back on, pulling them up beneath your dress. 

You couldn't help but feel irritated at the interruption, even more so at the tone Thomas had used with you. 

But you shook it off, reminding yourself that Thomas wasn't like that. He cared for you deeply, and you cared for him just as much. Maybe he was just having a stressful day.

When you arrived in the bedroom you shared with Tommy now however, you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on. A whiskey delivery at 10 o'clock seemed absurd and, with that in mind, you pulled aside the curtains and peaked out of the window .

Tommy was already standing outside, talking to a somewhat scary looking truck driver. But something was off. Tommy looked tense, his shoulders rigid and his expression stern.

The driver seemed to be making wild gestures, his hands waving around erratically as he spoke. And then, you saw it when the stranger opened one of the boxes on the back of his truck.

Inside there was no whiskey however, but instead, you saw something black, something that looked like rifles. A lot of rifles.  Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Was this some kind of arms deal? And if so, why would Thomas be involved in something like that?

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

I need a hug.

[forgottenpeakywriter]

The Law Student (Rewritten)

Part sEVEN: Mother

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (20) & Reader (30)

Note: This plays in 1996, just before Cillian drops out of law school.

After thinking about Cillian all night, on the following morning, at around 9 o'clock, on your day off from work, you  found yourself sitting in your favorite coffee shop, sipping a cup of coffee and skimming through some legal theory, desperately attempting to focus on the work at hand.

However, try as you might, you couldn't shake Cillian's face and the worry lines that creased his forehead from your mind, prompting you to do the polite thing and check on him. After all, he had taken quite a beating for you and, if anything, you considered it necessary to at least make some form of contact or another to ensure that he was recovering. 

In addition, you felt the need to talk to him, to get your stories straight as, during last night's incident, a lot of students and bystanders saw what could be perceived as inappropriate behavior between a teacher and a student.

Thus, as you sipped your lukewarm coffee, you contemplated driving to his house in Douglas to see how he was doing. Being his teacher and all, you did not consider this to be inappropriate, but rather considerate in light of what had occurred. 

As you arrived at Cillian's house, which was a stunning but modest three-bedroom residence, you felt butterflies churning in your stomach, wondering how he was doing and if you were overstepping any boundaries. But nonetheless, you screwed up your courage and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

After a moment's hesitation, you heard a young woman's muffled voice call out, "Coming!" and the door swung open to reveal a young girl, no older than 15, standing there in a pair of worn-out jeans and a tank top. She looked at you curiously. "Can I help you?" she asked politely.

"Um, yes, hi," you smiled at her nervously. "I'm actually here to see Cillian. Is he home?"

The girl's expression softened. "I think he is still asleep. Hang on," the young girl said before calling out his name. "Cillian! There is someone here to see you!" she shouted , cupping her hands around her mouth to amplify her voice while his brother Paddy scooted past with a bowl of cereal in his hands. 

"Oh hey, the law school teacher," Paddy greeted, nodding in your direction. "Cills is still passed out in bed," he told you and you quickly glanced at your watch, seeing that it was almost 11 o'clock.  "Maybe I should come back another time," you suggested politely before explaining to Paddy that you just came to check on him. 

"No no, wait, I'll go wake him up," Paddy said, before disappearing behind a closed door, leaving you to wait patiently in the hallway and, minutes later, Cillian appeared.

His hair was  tousled, and his eyes were half-closed, still adjusting to the brightness of the hallway. "Y/N?" he murmured, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "I mean, Miss Y/LN," he corrected himself and even despite his slightly disheveled appearance, Cillian managed to look incredibly attractive, causing your heart to race a little faster than usual.

He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a worn our Frank Zappa t-shirt, accompaied by a pair of grandfather slippers.

"What  are you doing here?" he asked, scrubbing his hand over his face, and trying to mask his surprise.

"I just wanted to check on you," you told him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as his eyes locked on yours. "I hope I didn't wake you up," you added nervously.

Cillian blinked and shook his head. "No, no, it's fine," he murmured, taking a step closer to you. "I'm just surprised to see you here," he told you, silently inviting you into his home.

"No, I won't come in. I just wanted to make sure you are okay after last night's events, you know,"  you replied, trying to keep things professional despite the intimate scenario.

Cillian nodded, understanding your apprehension. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little bruised and sore," he said, gesturing towards his face. "But I'll live."

"Good. That's good," you responded, smiling softly at him. "And listen, Cillian, I can't pretend that last night didn't happen. People saw us together, some might assume that there's something inappropriate going on between us. We need to establish a clear boundary, to clarify some facts," you explained, your voice steady and calm, belaying the turmoil that bubbled within you as you spoke quietly so that no one else could hear you. 

Cillian nodded solemnly. "Relax. If someone asks, I will tell them that I just did the right thing, you know, looking after my professor in a time of distress," Cillian assured you, his voice carrying a sense of sincerity and conviction. Despite your efforts to maintain a professional demeanor, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth at Cillian's earnestness.

"Thanks Cillian, I appreciate that. Honestly, I do," you replied, trying to put your thoughts into words just as you saw Cillian's mother walk into the house through the backdoor.  She carried a bag of groceries in her hand, eying you curiously for a second before a warm smile lit up her face.

"Oh hello there, dear," she greeted kindly as she walked towards Cillian, setting the groceries down on the kitchen counter and greeting him with a spontaneous hug and kiss, causing Cillian to blush. "Good morning sleepyhead," she told him affectionately as she ruffled his hair.

"Mum, this is my law school professor, Miss Y/LN," Cillian introduced, gesturing towards you still standing in the hallway, keep watching the wholesome interaction between mother and son with a small chuckle. 

"Oh, what a pleasure to meet you," she said, walking up to you with her hand extended, which you shook politely. "I hope my boy isn't in trouble," she added, casting a concerned glance towards Cillian, who shook his head quickly.

"No, Mum, I promise. I just had a bit of a run-in with someone at the pub last night," Cillian explained hurriedly, avoiding eye contact with his mother. 

"Well, I'm glad you're safe, dear.

No harm done, I hope?" Cillian's mother asked, her gaze shifting between Cillian and you.

"No, ma'am, everything is fine. I just stopped by to check on Cillian after that incident last night. He helped me out when I got in trouble, so I just came by to thank him and to make sure he was doing okay," you replied, feeling a pang of guilt for worrying his mother.

"Oh, that. Yes, Cillian mentioned something about it. Terrible, isn't it?" she said, before turning her attention back to Cillian. "I am glad that nothing worse happened. You never know these days . There are so many bad people out there," Cillian's mother said, shaking her head in dismay.

"Yes, unfortunately, that's true," you agree, feeling a sense of sadness wash over you. Despite the initial reason for your visit, you cannot help but be drawn into the homey atmosphere that Cillian's family exudes.

"Well, I best be off. I have a lot of work to catch up on," you announce, reluctantly tearing yourself away from the scene before you.

"Don't you want to stay for a cup of tea?" Cillian's mother invited warmly, her voice full of kindness.

You hesitated for a moment, torn between your responsibilities and the desire to spend more time in this cozy environment. "I really should get going," you said, with a hint of regret in your voice. You turned to Cillian, "But thank you again for last night. I won't forget it."

Cillian smiled, a twinkle of appreciation in his eyes.

"I am sure he won't either," Paddy chuckled as he overheard the tail end of the conversation, causing Cillian to mumble the words "ejiit" under his breath. 

"Well, I should be heading off then," you announced, eager to leave before the conversation turned uncomfortable.

"Thanks again for stopping by, Miss Y/LN," Cillian called out as you made your way down the path towards your car.

"No problem, Cillian," you replied, throwing a final wave over your shoulder.

As you drove away, your thoughts turned to Cillian and the uneasy feelings that surfaced as a result of the incident.

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Sweet Possession (Part 2)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

The following day, however, brought a gloomy atmosphere into the room as, at around 6 o'clock, there was a knock on your bedroom door, causing you to startle.

Until that night, you had never shared a bed with Tommy , and the thought of being interrupted whilst still lying naked next to him made you shudder.

"Who is it?" Thomas barked, quickly wrapping a white sheet around his waist.

"It's Arthur," came the distorted voice of Tommy's older brother, resulting in Tommy jumping out of the bed, collecting his briefs from the floor and throwing them on. "What is it, Arthur?" Tommy asked as he hurriedly opened the door to reveal Arthur, standing there, waving at you while you simply blushed with embarrassment. 

"Something's happened," Arthur blurted out. "Down at the docks."

Tommy looked at you, hunched up on the bed, clutching a sheet to your bare breasts. "Go put some clothes on, Love. I'll be back soon," he signaled to you, and you nodded in silence.

As soon as Tommy left the room, you crawled off the bed to gather your scattered garments from the floors, wondering what the problem was on site.

Since you moved into Tommy's house, there had been a lot of trouble at the docks and in his factories and when you asked your now husband about it, he would usually brush it off. 

He often put it down to strikes or interruptions due to equipment breakdown and, as his partner in life, of course, you believed him. 

Tommy was a businessman, not a criminal, and whilst you thought that his brother and Gypsie acquaintances were rather rough around the edged, you knew that Tommy was a good man.

He was a man who would do anything for you and you appreciated his kindness and the love he gave you, especially after you had been abandoned by all the other men in your life before him.

Even your older brother left you to your own devices when you were just seventeen, moving away from Birmingham without a word, as a result of which the home your parents had partially owned was being foreclosed on.

You had no choice but to move out and find work to sustain yourself, to be able to maintain a roof over your head and pay for your rent. And even then, it didn’t always suffice.

You were fired from three jobs until you found work at the Garrison and now you knew that you never had to work again.

Tommy took care of you now, treated you well and, even though he was determined to have children with you, he respected your wishes to wait.

He bought you horse, a white stallion and you were assigned not one, but two maids, which was something you always considered to be odd. 

If you wanted to go to town and spend some time shopping, Tommy had a maid and a driver accompany you and today wasn't much different when you decided to head into the city of Birmingham for some groceries. 

"Mrs Shelby, there really is no need. I can send an errand boy to do the shopping," Frances told you as you waved the list of items you wanted to buy in her perfectly manicured face with excitement. 

"But I insist Frances. I want to do the shopping and then, tonight, I will cook a nice meal for my husband," you told her politely, seeing that you had always enjoyed to cook but had not done so ever since you moved to Arrow House. 

"Very well, Mrs Shelby. Whatever you wish," she answered in a silky voice that reeked of credulousness.

"Fabulous. I know a really nice Italian Grocer by the Canal side. Do you think Isiah could drive me there?" you asked, knowing that Tommy was always rather worried about your safety and wouldn't have liked you driving yourself.  Frances hesitated for a moment. "Of course, Mrs. Shelby," she said bluntly, but not without a hint of hesitation in her voice. "I'll call Isiah right away."

You smiled appreciatively at Frances and headed off to the bathroom, quickly freshening up before heading to the car that would take you to the Italian grocer.

The car ride was comfortable and peaceful, and you couldn't help but marvel at how much your life had changed since you first met Thomas Shelby.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car pulled up to the front of the grocery store.

The sun was shining brightly outside, illuminating the bustling streets of Birmingham and casting a warm glow on the picturesque canal that ran along the side of the store.

You stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath of the fresh air. The sound of laughter and conversation drifted towards you from nearby cafes and pubs, mixing with the distant horns and clatter of the ships moving through the canal locks.

"My mother always took me here when I was little. It's a nice little shop run by a lovely Italian family. My older brother, Alfred, used to bring me here all the time too, just after payday, before-" You paused, your smile faltering slightly. "Before he left to god knows where," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper and Isiah simply nodded with sympathy while you stepped into the shop.

The smell of coffee and bread greeted you as the door jingled shut behind you. Despite the modern facade, the interior remained cozy with a wooden counter in the middle that displayed a variety of pasta and cured meats. On the shelves, colorful tins of tomatoes and olive oil lined the walls.

Remembering the list in your hand, you carefully navigating your way through the narrow aisles and stocked up on your ingredients. 

"I am sorry ma'am, but we don't serve Blinders here," one of the Italians said to you as you roamed through the shop and, since you had no idea what the man was talking about, you just laughed nervously.

"Excuse me?" you queried, confused while Isiah appeared behind you, flashing the gun hidden beneath his jacket, thinking that you wouldn't notice.

"We don't want any trouble miss," the stocky man corrected himself quickly, and you quickly blinked, trying to process what was happening.

"Why would I give you trouble?" you asked innocently, unable to make sense of what exactly was going and Isiah then politely urged you to finish up your shopping. 

Without another word, you filled up your basket, paid for your groceries and left the store, feeling a sudden chill in the air despite the brilliant sunshine.

Isiah escorted you back to the waiting car in silence but you had so many questions that needed answering, but you refrained yourself from asking, believing that your new husband would soon explain everything to you when you returned home.

The short car ride was again filled with a heavy silence and you couldn’t help but feel unsettled. 

As you walked through the front door, Frances took the groceries from your hands and you made your way upstairs to your bedroom to get changed.  After a quick shower, you slipped into a nice but comfortable dress that Thomas had given to you as a gift.

You stared at yourself in the mirror and felt a pang of happiness in your chest. Your life had changed so dramatically since being with him and you couldn’t deny that you were happy.

You then made your way downstairs to unpack the groceries and start cooking. It was still early but you knew that the dish you were making had to sit in the oven for almost eight hours on low heat, so you knew to better get cracking.  You were pleased with the simplicity and warmth of the task at hand, letting your mind relax as you chopped and sautéed the vegetables and meat.

As you worked, you couldn’t help but wonder about the strange encounter you had at the grocer. The man’s peculiar reference to “Blinders” and the sudden appearance of Isiah’s gun were both alarming and confusing. But, you shook the thoughts away, telling yourself that there was likely a simple explanation.

Tommy had an explanation for everything and, just as you were thinking about him, he came walking through the door of the large and rarely used kitchen in wing one of Arrow House, far away from the staff quarters.  He greeted you with a gentle kiss on the cheek before pouring himself a glass of whiskey and looking at you contently.

"How did you go?" you asked your husband , referring to whatever business he had down at the docks.

Thomas took a sip of his whiskey, eyeing you carefully. "Fine," he told you. "There was some stock missing, but we dealt with it," Thomas explained, leaving out the gruesome details of the beating he ordered his men to give out. 

"You know I employed a chef to do the cooking, Love ," Thomas said, changing the subject as he watched you chopping the vegetables.

"I'm aware, but I love to cook for you. I am your wife and this is what wives do, isn't it?" you smirked  at Thomas, challenging him.

Thomas chuckled lightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he took another sip of his drink. "Yes, of course. I suppose it is," he conceded, a heartfelt smile playing on his lips as he drew closer from behind. 

Thomas encircled your waist with one arm and nuzzled your neck  softly, causing you to giggle and shiver at the same time.

"You look quite sexy in that dress and apron, Love ," Thomas murmured in your ear, giving it a slight nibble that triggered a heated blush infiltrating your cheeks.

You glanced at him with a playful smile before turning around, your hands instinctively moving to rest on his muscular chest, only to feel the outline of his gun sitting firmly in its halter.

"Why would you need to carry a gun?"  you whispered, turning your head slightly to catch his gaze. Thomas' eyes flickered down to the gun before meeting your gaze again.

"Just a precaution, Love. There are some dangerous people in this city," Thomas replied, his voice low and serious.

You nodded, understanding his concerns but still feeling uneasy about the situation. Thomas seemed to sense your disquiet and leaned down to kiss you softly.

"I love you," he murmured against your lips, his arms tightening around you briefly before releasing you.

"I love you too, Tommy," you replied softly, your hands still resting on his chest.

Your heart softened towards Thomas in that moment, feeling a deep affection for him. You loved him deeply and you trusted him implicitly. Knowing him as well as you did, it was hard to imagine that his business dealings could be anything but legitimate, even as you had heard rumors about his involvement in illegal activities.

Thomas had always dismissed these rumors as mere speculation, nothing more than idle gossip and slander from his rivals. And yet, as you stood there in the warm kitchen, with the smell of dinner filling the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you since your visit to the Italian grocer.

"I should really get back to cooking, Tommy," you said eventually, stepping out of Thomas' embrace and starting to chop the vegetables again, but Tommy simply removed the knife from your hand.

"The cooking can wait," he said huskily. "I've been thinking about you all day. About how beautiful you looked this morning when you were sleeping," he murmured as he nibbled your earlobe. 

"I suppose we could eat a little later than usual,"  you replied, the tension from earlier melting away as Thomas' lips moved to your neck.

The room felt warm and intimate as the two of you stood there, wrapped up in each other's embrace.

"Fuck, I want you," Thomas whispered hoarsely as his hands traveled down your body, cupping your ass roughly.

You let out a soft cry as he lifted you up onto the kitchen counter, spreading your legs apart with a confident movement that sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

"Tommy, what if a maid walks in?" you giggled nervously, your voice breathless as Thomas' fingers deftly slipped beneath your dress and apron.

"Then let them watch ," Thomas growled, his voice thick with desire.

He tugged your panties down, exposing your wet and eager pussy to his hungry gaze.

"You are unbelievable, Thomas!" you chuckled softly just before his fingertips traced the delicate folds of your sex, your body trembling beneath his touch.

Thomas wasted no time, plunging two fingers deep into your core.

"Oh god, Tommy," you cried out, gripping the edge of the countertop as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you.

"God, you're so fucking wet. So ready for me," Tommy groaned as his thumb teased your clit, and you writhed on the counter, grinding against his hand. You felt shameless and exposed, but also incredibly alive.

As Thomas unzipped his trousers, you watched through hooded eyes, your breath hitching as his hard cock sprang free.

He stroked it a couple of times, smearing pre-cum over the tip before using it to coat your slit.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, trying to pull him closer.

Thomas chuckled for a second. "Eager, aren't we?" he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance.

You bit your lip as you felt him push inside your tight warmth, stretching you mercilessly. You moaned at the sensation of him filling you up, the feeling of fullness almost overwhelming.

"Fuck, you're tight, Love," Thomas grunted, his fingers digging into your hips as he pistoned back and forth.

"Tommy, oh god please," you whimpered, unable to form complete sentences as the pleasure built inside of you.

"I love feeling you inside me ," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you added, your voice barely above a whisper and, immediately, Thomas' eyes met yours for a brief moment, his gaze intense as he continued to fuck you.

"Neither have I, Love," Tommy told you and you cried out, biting your lip to try and contain the noise as the pleasure became almost unbearable.

You felt yourself climbing higher and higher, the tension building stronger and stronger until the waves of static pleasure crashed inside of you and, suddenly, you felt yourself falling, falling, falling and, as you kept screaming, the waves of pleasure crashed over and over again, never ending.

"Fuck, yes. That's it, Love," Thomas groaned, holding back his own release until you came down from your high. He then pulled out , springing free, and grabbed his cock, giving it a few quick thrusts as he sprayed hot streams of cum across your naked thighs.

Thomas leaned forward, moving your hair off your sweaty forehead, pressing a gentle kiss there before stepping back, still catching his breath.

Reaching for his handkerchief  , he started to wipe the remnants of their earthly pleasures of desperation and passion from between your thighs and from his limp cock before zipping up his trousers again.

“Are you alright, Love?” he addressed you gentler than ever before and you simply nodded silently, before reaching for a glass of water and taking a deep sip, feeling a little thirsty after your vigorous desperation for passion and how ‘earthshattering’ your release became.

Thomas poured himself another glass of whiskey and watched you closely as you collected yourself.

"Now that was quite unexpected," you admitted, taking a deep breath before pushing yourself off the counter and swinging your legs down to the ground.

"Was it?" he chuckled before lightening himself a cigarette and offering one to you, which you accepted graciously. 

"You know, something really strange happened today when Isiah took me to the Italian Grocer by the Canal on East Street," you started, changing the topic, as you took a deep drag from your cigarette. Thomas arched an eyebrow, encouraging you to go on.

"While I was picking up some fresh produce for dinner, one of the Italians in store told me that they weren't serving 'Blinders' at their shop and, when I queried him about what he meant by that, he told me that he didn't want any trouble. I think he saw Isiah's gun, but I can't be sure. It all was very confusing," you recounted the incident, trying to piece together what happened.

At that moment, Thomas' body language changed entirely. He leaned his head to the side, squinting his left eye and pressing his lips firmly together, as he listening to your confession.

"Did the man say anything else?"  Thomas' voice was low and measured as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

"No," you shook your head. "Well, not that I could understand," you told him, causing your husband to clear his throat. 

"And what did the Italian look like?"  Thomas questioned you with a furrowed brow, as he tried to gauge the seriousness of the situation based on the incomplete information you offered.

"Tall, skinny. He was about thirty years old, with dark hair and dark eyes," you said, almost absentmindedly, as you went on to describe more about the Italian's appearance. Then, suddenly, it struck you just how off-putting the interaction had become now, and some anxiety washed over you again. "Why are you asking?"  you questioned Thomas, wondering about the reasoning behind the sudden interest in the man you met earlier today.

Thomas, sensing your apprehension, gave you a reassuring smile as he stubbed out his cigarette, extinguishing the glowing embers.

"No reason. Just mere curiosity, Love," Tommy told you before giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Now, why don't you finish cooking while attend some more business in town, eh?" he told you, his voice gentle and loving, but you noticed a hint of something else in his eyes, something that you couldn't quite identify.

"Alright Tommy," you agreed nonetheless and Thomas kissed you deeply one last time, before grabbing his hat and coat and disappearing off to town.

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

Sweet Possession (Part 1)

Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)

Warning: Age Gap, Smut

It was about four months ago when you met him, this blue-eyed stranger who would change your life forever. It was as if you had stepped into the unknown, shedding your old, familiar skin. He made your head spin with his charm and allure for the unknown.

When you talked to him for the very first time, it was as if you had known each other for years. He listened to you, and you felt as though he truly understood who you were and what you needed in life.

Despite being over 12 years older than you , Thomas Shelby made you feel safe and wanted, desired and accepted. You never felt such a connection to someone who had such an intense personality as Thomas and, most importantly for all, he showed you respect.

Thomas (or Tommy as you called him) was a wealthy business man from Birmingham and whilst you did not know much about his business activities, you knew that he was responsible for import and export of goods such Tabacco and cars.

With both of your parents not having survived the sinking of the Titanic, you had no one but yourself to stand up for and take care of yourself until Tommy came into your life.

He took you in and took care of you a few months ago, admiring your inner strength and determination to overcome all the challenges that life had thrown at you ever since you had turned 16, which was almost three years before you met him, your soon to be husband.

You were 19 years old when you met the 32-year-old in a pub named the Garrison shortly after you had started working there behind the bar. That night, Tommy had saved you from some unwanted attention from some other patrons and as you sat together that night, your connection was undeniable, palpable. Every guess or gut feeling you had ever had about your future guesses or dreams was confirmed in an instant. This was the moment that would change it all.

Fast-forward a bit and soon you found yourself living in Tommy's mansion, which you had yet to fully discover. The mansion was home to your own magnificent bedroom, Surreal wallpapers, wax-leafed walls, brass fixtures, and white porcelain handles.

It was surreal coming from almost living on the street to this and when Tommy asked you to marry him a few weeks ago,  you accepted blindly only thinking of the safety and love he gave you.

The wedding ceremony itself was small, with only some of his family in attendance. You were his second wife; his first wife having died four years ago and this was something that did not bother you. You accepted him with all as his baggage, just as he accepted you.

***

Having respected your wishes not to engage in any sexual activities before marriage, you two waited for the big night, anticipating the pleasure of having each other's bodies.

Tommy had told you through the weeks leading up to your wedding day that he would be gentle, as he assumed you were still a virgin and had no experience with men. He also told you that he would teach you everything there was to know about sex, which was a prospect that excited you. 

You knew that being abstinent for more than four months, must have been difficult for a man his age, and you couldn't help but admire him for his respect towards you and your decision to wait until your wedding night.

Unlike many other men, he said that he had no interest in the services of prostitutes and you believed him. He showed you that intimacy was not just about sex but more about the emotional connection between two people. But as each day passed, the tension between you two grew stronger and stronger.

The big night finally arrived. You had taken a bath, washing your whole body using a lavender-scented soap and then slid your body gently into a silky nightgown that you had bought in an expensive store downtown especially for you wedding night. As you looked at the mirror, you could not help but feel a bit nervous.

Tommy knocked gently on your door and after a short moment, he opened it up.

As you stood there in your nightgown, he couldn't help but stare. His eyes wandered over every bit of your body, and you could see the hunger in his eyes from a mile away.

Approaching you, he gently took your hand and drew you closer to him. His other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, making your core tighten. 

"You are beautiful, Love," Thomas whispered in your ear, brushing a loose tendril of hair from your face, his breath warm against your skin.

He then took hold of your left hand again and tenderly kissed your wedding ring – a token of your eternal love. Your heart raced and your nerves tingled at his tender display of affection. Your cheeks felt flushed and the room seemed to be spinning as the moment you'd been waiting for your entire life was finally about to happen.

Your hands felt clammy and you were struggling to find the words to respond to the man you'd married.

"Tommy," you gasped. "I want you," you stammered, looking up into his sharp, handsome face.

He caught your gaze with a knowing smile. "Good, because I want you too," Thomas said, with his eyes blazing and expectant.

As you looked into his eyes, you felt yourself being swept away on a tide of anticipation and desire.

Thomas stood in front of you, his fingers tracing the outline of your delicate collarbone.

He leaned in to softly kiss your quivering lips. His tongue danced upon yours for a mere moment before he pulled away. Slowly, he unbuttoned your night dress and let it fall gently to the floor, revealing your perky, young breasts to the cool air of the bedroom.

He took a moment to admire your inexperienced and vulnerable beauty before he began to trail kisses down your neck, across your chest, and onto your sensitive nipples.

"Oh God," you gasped, your hands clenching in his thick, dark hair as he teased you with his mouth.

"You like that, do you?" Thomas whispered, a wicked grin on his face.

The heat between your thighs became unbearable. You wanted him to do more, to touch you there, to do away with the last scraps of clothing that separated you from the man you married.

"Why don't you lie down for me, Love?" Thomas suggested, as he began to remove his own clothes.

You nodded eagerly, unable to find your voice in the intensity of the moment. Your breath hitched as you watched him undress. His muscled chest and chiseled abdomen were revealed to you as he shed his shirt, and your mouth went dry as he removed his trousers to stand proudly before you.

You laid back against the plush, velvet pillows, feeling self-conscious about your own nakedness in front of such a strong, confident man.

You noticed that his member stood tall and rigid, ready to claim you as his.

"Stop looking at my cock and lay back, Sweetheart," Thomas chuckled, sensing your discomfort. "I promise I won't hurt you," he then reassured you and you swallowed hard, nodding in compliance as you scooted further up on the bed.

Thomas followed, crawling up the bed with a seductive grace. He settled between your thighs and you trembled with anticipation.

"Open for me," Thomas whispered, his fingers lightly tracing your slick folds.

You whimpered at the sensation of his touch, your body tensing as he explored you intimately. Slowly, you obeyed his demand and allowed your legs to fall open. You felt exposed and vulnerable, but also safe in Thomas' arms, which held you with a protectiveness you needed in this new and uncertain moment.

"Good girl," Thomas praised, his fingers circling your clit with a tantalizing slowness. "You are already so nice and wet for me, eh?"  Thomas whispered, a suggestive smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as Thomas began to circle your clit with his thumb, all the while keeping his fingers buried inside of you.

"You are so beautiful Y/N. I am a lucky man," Thomas murmured, sensing your pleasure at his touch.

You nodded again, too caught up in the euphoria of the moment to find your voice.

Thomas began to thrust his fingers back and forth, his thumb continuing to rub your clit in slow, steady circles.

You threw your head back and moaned, your hips moving with a mind of their own. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting close to the edge.

"Let go for me, Love," Thomas whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Let yourself go. I promise you'll enjoy it."

With those words, something inside of you snapped. You closed your eyes and let the waves of pleasure wash over you, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm.

"That's it," Thomas murmured, his voice full of satisfaction. "That's my good girl. You're so beautiful when you cum, sweetheart," Thomas said, his voice thick with lust as he brushed a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead.

You smiled weakly, still catching your breath after the powerful release you had just experienced. You had never felt anything like that before and you couldn't believe how intensely Thomas had been able to make you feel.

"I love you Tommy ," you whispered, half-ashamed of the needy tone in your voice.

Thomas kissed you softly, his lips tasting of salt and lust. "I love you too, my wife," he said, before his hand started to wander down your body again.

His fingers found your wetness once more and he stroked you gently before, finally, climbing on top of you.

"I'm going to fuck you now, Love," Thomas whispered, his breath hot against your cheek as he teased your entrance with his tip.

"Please be gentle , Tommy," you pleaded, feeling overwhelmed by the sheer size and intensity of Thomas' manhood.

He nodded, his eyes blazing with desire. "Of course, Sweetheart. I'll be as gentle as I can," he said and, with that, he slowly began to push himself inside of you.

You gasped at the initial pain and pressure of his penetration, clutching onto the sheets as he filled you up completely.

Thomas paused for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Are you alright, Love?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, biting your lower lip as you tried to relax and accommodate his girth.

"Yes, I'm okay," you assured him, and Thomas began to thrust in and out of you with slow, deliberate movements.

At first, it felt foreign and slightly painful, but as Thomas' rhythm gradually picked up speed, your discomfort gave way to a growing sense of pleasure and desire.

"You feel so good, Sweetheart," Thomas groaned, as he plunged deeper and deeper inside of you.

Your legs wrapped around Thomas' waist, drawing him closer still, as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

You had never experienced such intense pleasure before, and you could feel yourself edging closer and closer to the precipice of climax.

You clung to Thomas, your fingernails digging into the taut muscles of his back as you moaned and gasped beneath him.

"Oh, God, Tommy," you panted, your hips bucking to meet his thrusts. "I think I'm going to cum again."

Thomas' eyes blazed with a fierce hunger as he drove himself deeper inside of you, your bodies slapping together in a primal dance.

"That's right, Love. Cum for me," Thomas growled, his voice low and husky.

"I want to feel you tighten around me, Love. I want to hear you scream my name while I make you come."

With those filthy words, Thomas thrust deeper and harder into you, sending wave after wave of pulsating pleasure surging through your body.

"Yes, Tommy! Yes!" you screamed, your voice mingling with his deep, guttural grunts.

"Fuck, you feel so tight and warm. So fucking good," Thomas groaned, sweat dripping from his brow as he plunged into your depths again and again.

"Don't cum inside me ," you gasped, suddenly remembering a crucial detail as you had previously discussed that you were not yet ready to have children with him. 

"I won't," Thomas groaned. "But I need to feel you a little longer. You just feel too good around my cock, Love," Thomas pleaded as he continued to drive himself in and out of you with wild, untamed passion.

You could feel another orgasm building within you, and you knew it would be powerful. You wanted to hold off for as long as possible, wanting to savor every exquisite sensation that Thomas was eliciting from your hyper-sensitive body.

But your pleasure took over and you succumbed to the tidal wave of ecstasy that washed over you. You screamed his name as you squeezed your thighs around his flexing hips.

"Good girl," Thomas panted in your ear, swirling his hips as he forced yet another powerful orgasm from your aching flesh. "So good. So, so fucking good."

You arched your back and collapsed against the bed, trembling beneath him as pain, pleasure, shame and wonderment coursed through your veins like liquid fire.

"Fuck, I am going to cum," Thomas groaned, the thickness of his cock throbbing within you before pulling out quickly and spraying sticky streaks of semen over your stomach, breasts, and bedsheets.

Both of you were breathing heavily as the room filled with the scent of your mutual pleasure, stocks damp with your fluids and mixed with the evidence of his release on your skin.

Neither of you spoke for a few moments, enjoying the quiet moment of contentment that came on the heels of such intense satisfaction.

Thomas broke the silence, removing evidence of his release from your body, as one would clean a precious piece of artwork after its masterpiece was finished.

"Did I hurt you, Love?" Thomas asked, his eyes softening as they met yours.

"No, I-I wanted that," you admitted, your body still shivering from the intense pleasure. "It was perfect," you told him, and he smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly, recalling how long he wanted to do this. 

Unbeknownst to you, he had been wanting you for many years and now, finally, you were his. His wife. His possession. His triumph.

Tags:

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

An Illicit Affair

Part 32: Arrest

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

Without giving it a second thought, Cillian sought out his son who he knew was at university that day , planning on confronting him about it. His gut feeling told him that Max had something to do with the charge and, as he drove to university, the erratic beat of the rain drummed furiously against the roof of the car, matching the thundering of his own heart. Anxiety and anger built inside him as a thousand different scenarios played out in his head.

What his gut feeling failed to foresee however is that Max had, just as always, been manipulated by his mother who, according to Max himself, had been using the car for the past few weeks.

"Dad, what is going on?" he wanted to know , his eyes narrowing in suspicion, his body language stiff and defensive as his father stood in front of him, questioning him.

"Mum said that her card had been stolen and I figured that you wouldn't mind if she used yours. She was just going to get some groceries and you had her other accounts blocked, so I just gave it to her and told her to be reasonable, you know," Max explained after Cillian had confronted him about the charges in Chelsea. "And you know that I don't have a license at the moment, so I am not going to drive a brand-new car. Mum has been using it for weeks. She fucking paid for it, so why not," Max continued, his eyes wide and innocent, completely unaware of the betrayal that his mother had committed.

Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, frustration building up in his chest. "Max, this is serious. Are you sure she's been using the car all this time?" Cillian told his son, his voice heavy with disappointment and anger.

"Yes, dad! She has been in London for ages now. She didn't want me to tell you because of all that has been happening and since I didn't talk to you for weeks anyway, I didn't think it was an odd request,"  Max stated, still looking at his father with wide, innocent eyes, completely oblivious to the impact his words had on him.

Cillian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers again. He felt like he was being pulled in every direction, unable to find solid ground, unable to make sense of the senseless situation.

"Max, we need to talk. And then we need to go to the police, together!" Cillian announced, determination shining in his sharp blue eyes as he processed the sudden turn of events.

Max frowned, hesitating for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

"To the police? Why?" Max asked, surprise lacing his words as he glanced nervously at his father.

Cillian turned to his son, meeting his eyes, the gravity of the situation heavy in his gaze.

"I think that your mother has been stalking Y/N and I think that she was responsible for the accident," Cillian explained quietly, donning a serious expression that Max had never seen before.

Max shook his head, confusion drawing his brows together. "Mum wouldn't do this kind of thing, dad!" he denied, his voice trembling ever so slightly, with a hint of disbelief lingering behind each word that left his mouth.

But Cillian disagreed, his mind set on revealing the truth about Danielle's actions. "Max, listen to me," Cillian tried but Max cut him off.

"No!  I won't listen to you say these things about her! Mum is a good person, she would never hurt anyone," Max insisted, anger and panic bubbling inside him. He couldn't believe what his father was suggesting. Danielle was his mother, his rock, his safe haven. She was the one person he could always rely on, the one person who had always been there for him, no matter what. The idea that she could be capable of such a heinous act was unfathomable.

"Max, your mother has been trying to trap me in this marriage for a long time and  when that didn't work for her anymore and I filed for divorce, she started targeting Y/N. I know it sounds far-fetched, but you have to trust me on this," Cillian pleaded, grasping for straws.

Max sneered, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at his father. "How convenient. You're blaming her now that you've found yourself someone else," Max exclaimed accusingly.

"Y/N told me about the car following her, Max. I checked and it is the same make and model your mother bought for you," Cillian retorted, trying to break through Max's resistance.

"Y/N is probably lying to get rid of mum because of you. Because she doesn't want the baggage that comes with having an ex-wife and all,"  Max declared, frustration and protectiveness coursing through him.

Cillian sighed, trying to keep his patience in check. "Look, Max. I know it's hard to accept but we have to face the facts. Your mother has become increasingly unstable over the past few months and her behavior has become increasingly erratic. Believe me, I wish it wasn't the case, but I am worried, not only about Y/N's safety, but also yours," Cillian  assured Max, who looked away, unable to meet his father's gaze.

"So you are trying to get mum locked up? Is that it?"  Max asked finally, his eyes focused on anything but his father.

Cillian reached out to put a reassuring hand on Max's shoulder, but he recoiled at the touch. Cillian sighed and dropped his arm to his side.

"No Max, I am trying to get her the help she needs while, at the same time, making sure that Y/N and you are safe!" Cillian replied emphatically, frustration creeping into his voice as he raised his hands in a helpless gesture. "I know it's hard for you to hear this, but we can't ignore it anymore."

Max sighed, his shoulders slumping as he finally conceded defeat. "You ruined everything by getting involved with Y/N! So, I hope you are happy, dad!"  Max spat, disgust heavy in his voice, and Cillian's heart ached. He hated that their relationship had come to this, but he couldn't stand by and do nothing while Danielle's erratic behavior continued.

"Max, I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to hurt you or your mother," Cillian whispered, his voice thick with regret. "But I can't deny my feelings for Y/N either. I'm sorry."

Max shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I don't want to hear it," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Just fucking go!" 

Cillian sighed, rubbing his temples. "Okay. I will leave," Cillian conceded but Max was beyond reasoning at this point. He had made up his mind, and there was no changing it. "I hate you," he muttered, turning on his heel and storming off.

Cillian watched him go, his heart heavy with sadness, regret and uncertainty.

"Max," he called after him. "Max, please, don't leave like this."

But Max did not look back. Instead, he quickened his pace, disappearing around a corner, leaving Cillian standing alone, the cool wind biting at his exposed skin, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

As he stared at the empty space where his son had just been, he knew that he had to press on. For Y/N, for Max. For himself.

With that in mind, he made his way to the station , determination fueling his steps. He needed to speak to the detective in charge of the case, to share his suspicions, to point out the inconsistencies, to expose the danger that Danielle posed and to plea for their protection.

Upon arriving at the station, Cillian was greeted with a flurry of activity. Police officers rushed back and forth, the buzz of their radios and their hushed conversations filling the air, creating an almost suffocating level of tension. He approached the front desk, a pleasant-looking woman greeted him, inquiring how she could assist.

He explained why he had come, and after a brief moment of discussion, the receptionist summoned the investigator responsible for your case and it was then and there that an arrest warrant against Danielle had been issued.

Tags:

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@heidimoreton @nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

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[forgottenpeakywriter]

The Client (Rewritten)

Part Two: New Relationships

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (37) & Reader (35)

Note: In this fic Cillian is a lawyer, helping the reader after she becomes a victim of domestic abuse.

The following morning, at Cillian's offices, he had expected to see you at around 8 o'clock but, when only his friend Dermont arrived, he became worried.

"She said that she doesn't need your help," Dermont told him with concern. "She said that she can just go to Legal Aid," he added.

But Cillian knew better. He understood that, when it came to matters of domestic violence, Legal Aid  was often underfunded and inexperienced. 

"Legal Aid?" he thus asked and, seeing that your husband James was a seasoned and experienced solicitor himself,  Cillian experienced a knot in his stomach. He knew the odds you were facing. "Fuck she is stubborn!" Cillian muttered, raking his hands through his tousled brown hair before reaching for his coat.

"Where are you going?" Janette, who had been sitting in the meeting, queried Cillian with a raised eyebrow. "You have a meeting with John O'Shea at 10," she reminded him, but Cillian was on a mission.

"Cancel it. I need to see Y/N," Cillian brushed Janette's warnings aside, not in the mood for corporatespeak as he was determined to make his way to the women's shelter on York in order to confront you. He knew that you needed his help and he would not take no for an answer. 

"I will come with you, man," Dermont solidified solidarity, standing up from his chair and grabbing his leather jacket.

"There is no point, Dermont. They won't let you in," Cillian told his friend, knowing that visitors, other than legal counsel and attending psychologists, were not allowed on premises due to safety concerns. 

"Do you think she will actually talk to you?" Dermont asked as they walked towards the elevator. 

"She bloody well will when I tell her what's going to happen if she doesn't take this seriously," Cillian replied, his jaw set with determination. "When you told me who she is married to, my alarm bells went off and I am not surprised that she did not leave this bastard yet. He is a piece of work, and he is most certainly is good at what he does," Cillian explaining after having worked with James in the past and having an inside perspective on the man's ruthless behavior.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened, and the two men entered. Cillian pressed the button for the parking garage, and the elevator began its descent in silence.

"Will she be safe?" Dermont queried Cillian with concern in his voice.

"I will make sure that she is," Cillian reassured Dermont, his tone firm. 

The elevator doors opened, revealing the dimly lit parking garage. Cillian and Dermont walked towards Cillian's shiny black BMW. As Cillian unlocked the car, Dermont hesitated.

"You will need to wait in the car when we get there, okay?" Cillian told Dermont as they got in and fastened their seatbelts.

Dermont nodded silently and Cillian peeled out of the parking garage. About thirty minutes later , pulled up outside the women's shelter. He switched off the engine and took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever lay ahead. He knew that you were unlikely to receive him well after how things had ended between you many years ago, but he was not prepared to back down.

He got out of the car, entered the shelter's front door, and approached the front desk. The receptionist looked up at him, her face a mask of polite indifference.

"I'm looking for Y/N Y/LN," Cillian maintained eye contact.

"And you are?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Cillian Murphy. I am her solicitor," he told the woman while showing her his bar membership card and drivers license, knowing that she would have to keep his details on file.  The woman's eyes glanced over his documents before she nodded, clearly authorized to allow him through.

"Miss Y/LN is in apartment 302, on the third floor," she told him, pointing up the nearby staircase. "But let me warn you that she might not be in the mood for company. Her husband tried to make contact this morning and was advised to leave,"  she added, her tone laced with disapproval.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," Cillian mumbled, turning towards the staircase. His heart was hammering in his chest as he climbed the stairs, suddenly feeling like a schoolboy again. It had been years since he had last seen you, and the memories still haunted him to this day.

He reached the third floor and found your apartment on the left-hand side. He paused for a moment, taking another deep breath before knocking on the door.

To his surprise, you answered almost immediately, your face painted with shock upon seeing him.

"Cillian? What the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, your voice trembling as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt that hung loosely over your body, and your hair was a mess of tangled curls. He could see the dark circles under your eyes and the bruise on your cheek, and his heart clenched in his chest.

"Dermont saw me this morning and I came to talk to you," Cillian told you, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. 

"I don't want your help," you muttered, turning your head away. But Cillian could see the uncertainty in your eyes, and he knew that you were just as confused by your feelings as he was. "I told Dermont that I will go to Legal Aid," you told him, trying to assert yourself, but Cillian could hear the hesitance in your voice.

"Listen to me, Y/N," Cillian said, placing his hands on your shoulders and gently turning you to face him. "Legal Aid won't be able to take your husband on and you know that,"  he said, his voice soft yet firm. "You need someone who knows how to handle his type of mentality," he added, his gaze holding yours.

You could feel yourself being drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. It was as if the years had melted away and you were once again that young girl who had fallen in love with him. You wanted to believe him, to trust him with your life. But you were also scared, terrified that history would repeat itself and you would be left with nothing but a broken heart and a shattered life.

You tried to push him away, but Cillian was not so easily swayed.

"Look at me, Y/N," Cillian whispered and your eyes met, and you could see the fire burning within them. "Let's just talk and then, if you still want to go to Legal Aid,  I will even drive you there,"  he offered and you hesitated, your eyes searching his face for any sign of deception.

But all you could see was compassion and concern, and you felt yourself being drawn to him like a magnet. "Alright," you sighed, your shoulders slumping as you stepped aside and allowed him to enter.

The apartment was small and cramped, with only a single bedroom and a living room that doubled as a kitchen. The walls were bare and the furniture sparse, a testament to how quickly you had left your old life behind.

Cillian looked around, his gaze taking in the small space.

He could see the weight of your situation reflected in the empty walls and the sparse furniture, and his heart clenched in his chest.

"I'm sorry," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a mess. Dermont took me here after I was discharged from hospital and James froze all of my accounts," you explained, and Cillian could see the hurt and shame etched on your face and he wanted to take it all away. 

"Don't worry about all that now," Cillian murmured as he gestured to the small kitchen table, and you took a seat across from him. 

Cillian then sat there in silence for a moment, looking at you as if he didn’t know what to say and, he probably didn’t. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to tell you that everything will be okay. Perhaps he just wanted to be the person to comfort you. Or, perhaps, he just wanted to be the person to help you through your darkest times.

Eventually though, he began to talk and took you through the legal process slowly. He told you what the steps were, including obtaining an AVO, gaining financial support for you and requesting your husband to return your property to you, including your identification documents and mobile phone. He then reassured you that getting custody for your son would not be an issue given his age. He explained that, at 16, your son would decide who he wants to live with and this was a relief for you.

Then, finally, he mentioned divorce. Of course, with all of this, you needed to apply for divorce. It was inevitable and you couldn’t wait until you were free from this monster.

“First, let’s talk about the AVO and getting you some financial support from him. This seems to be the most urgent matter and I have already obtained and looked through the discharge report from the hospital. You lied to the nurses, and I am not going to ask you why. I am sure you had your reasons. But I am telling you that, the fact that you did, will make it more difficult for us to prove that you need protection,” Cillian then explained quite suddenly before giving you a reassuring look.

“So, I cannot get an AVO against him?” you asked a little confused.

“We will get you an AVO Y/N but, if he challenges it, we will need to get some more evidence together to prove that you do, in fact, need it,” Cillian explained before handing you a box of tissues as he could see that you were becoming emotional already.

“The bruises seem quite bad. How are you coping with them?” Cillian then asked and, whilst you knew that it wasn’t relevant to the case, you appreciated his gesture.

“I am okay," you confirmed reluctantly while trying to mask your true emotions and the pain you were still feeling. 

"What about the baby you lost? The hospital report said that your miscarriage was caused by physical trauma," Cillian's voice cracked with emotion.

Tears filled your eyes at the mention of your loss. "It's my fault," you whispered, your voice shaking. "I should have left him a long time ago." Your thoughts trailed off to the brutal night that had left you traumatized and alone, your unborn child taken from you before you had even gotten the chance to hold them in your arms.

"Hey," Cillian's voice softened as he reached across the table to take your hand in his. "This isn't your fault, Y/N. You know that, right?"

You shook your head, your eyes filling with tears. "I can't help thinking that, if I had just been stronger, maybe he wouldn't have...," you stammered, leaving your sentence unfinished. 

Cillian's heart broke at the sight of you in pain. "I am sorry," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. He reached over to wipe away your tears, his touch gentle and soothing. He longed to take away your pain and shield you from harm, but he knew that he couldn't. Not yet, at least.

“I need to ask you some more questions about the harm he caused,” Cillian eventually said after taking a deep sigh and you nodded your head, accepting the inevitable nature of the situation, although part of you desperately wished to avoid revisiting the most painful memories.

“Can you describe what happened that night? How did he cause you to lose the baby?” he asked, his voice giving away the slight grimace that crossed his features.

“We had an argument about the state of the house. He made me clean and clean and clean all over again and still wasn't satisfied. He then became aggressive. He wanted sex I think. I don't know. I can't remember. All I remember was the blows to my stomach when he hit me repeatedly until I blacked out,"  you choked out, your voice low and trembling. "I woke up in the hospital a few hours later. I was weak from the pain and exhausted through the trauma. The doctors told me that I had lost my baby."

A wave of sadness and anger washed over Cillian as you told him the harrowing details of that night. 

“Has he ever hurt you like this before or was this the first time?” Cillian asked carefully, knowing that this may trigger you to become even more upset and emotional.

“Yes” you cried before getting into more detail for him.

“He has hurt me many times. He even raped me before and said that it wasn't rape because we are married. When I tried to leave him, he threatened me. He told me that if I dared to speak of what he did to me, he would kill me and no-one would ever find out," you choked out, your voice filled with pain and betrayal.

Cillian listened quietly, holding your hands firmly in his as you spoke. He could feel the rage building up inside of him as you told him about the horrors that you had endured at the hands of your husband.

"Y/N, I promise you that I will make sure that he pays for every single thing that he has done to you," he promised, his voice filled with conviction.

He knew that his words were not enough, but he wanted you to know that you were not alone in this. That he would be there for you every step of the way, no matter how difficult things got.

His anger towards James was palpable and it was clear that he was not going to let him get away with what he had done.

“I need to know, are there any records of prior injuries with other hospitals or medical centers?” he then asked carefully once you were able to calm back down and you nodded again.

“A year ago, I had severe burns and I saw my general practitioner to get some cream for them” you told Cillian with teary eyes, causing his chin to drop. 

“Burns? Did he inflict them?” Cillian asked a little surprised.

“Yes, he did! When James found out that…uhm…I…I had an abortion about a year ago he…” you started to cry again, your resolve crumbling down slowly. 

“Take your time Y/N” Cillian told you while reaching across the table and holding onto your hand, unbothered by the fact that you still held on to the wet tear-soaked tissue.

“He burned me,” you sobbed and Cillian’s grip on your hands tightened involuntarily at hearing about the harrowing pain that you went through. He wanted to strangle James for making you suffer like that but, instead, he took a moment to compose himself.

“How did he burn you?” Cillian asked and what he heard next made him sick to the stomach. 

“He used the iron  on me,” you choked out, your eyes glazing over as you were thrown right back into that dreadful moment in time.

Visions of that scalding hot iron being dragged down the length of your arm seared through your mind like it was happening all over again. You could smell the burning flesh and hear your own screams echoing through the house.

Cillian inhaled sharply, trying to contain the crossed wires running riot through his brain.rage, sympathy, passion, disgust.

He couldn't decide which emotion to settle for, so he let out a low growl of frustration instead.

"Fuck," Cillian swore loudly, dragging a hand through his thick shock of hair before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, cradling his head in his hands.

"Can you show me the burns?"  Cillian asked softly, dropping his hands as he looked at you with eyes filled with concern.

You bit your bottom lip nervously, unsure of whether you should expose yourself to him. Nevertheless, you stood up and peeled back the sleeve of your shirt, revealing the pale white scars that marred your skin.

Cillian sucked in his breath, feeling a mix of anger and sadness wash over him. You flinched slightly, feeling self-conscious under his gaze.

Cillian, sensing your discomfort, quickly looked away, but not before he took a mental image of the faint lines that marked your skin.

"I am so sorry for everything that you've gone through," he murmured, his voice laced with anguish and fury. "No person deserves to be treated like this," he told you before asking you whether you would be willing to undergo a medical examination for evidence.

The thought of allowing someone else to examine your battered body repulsed you, but you gave Cillian your consent, knowing full well that it was necessary for your case.

"I will arrange an appointment for you with one of the centers on Callum Street. They specialize in these types of cases and the medical examiner there is an old colleague of mine," Cillian told you, his voice steady and reassuring.

As you agreed to the appointment, Cillian checked his watch and realized that it was already almost noon.

"Have you eaten anything today?" he asked you, noticing your thin frame and the dark shadows under your eyes.

You shook your head no, causing Cillian to frown.

"Let's grab a bite then and have a break. Your brother has been sitting in my car for a few hours now and is probably bored,"  Cillian suggested as he rose from his chair.

You nodded, appreciating his understanding.  "I can't really afford to go out for lunch Cillian,"  you said, feeling embarrassed to admit that you had no money to spend on luxuries like that.

Cillian's eyebrows pulled together with concern. "That's not a problem, Y/N, I'm happy to buy," he said. "Come on, let's take a break and this afternoon we will work on getting your statements ready for the AVO and the claims against James,"  he reassured you before guiding you out of the apartment.

You walked down the hallway and descended the stairs. Cillian led you to his car where your brother was waiting.

Dermont's face lit up as soon as he saw you. "How are you holding up?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm alright," you replied, giving him a weak smile.

"Shall we go and grab some lunch then?" Cillian interrupted, eager to allow you to distract yourself.

"I know this great little cafe just down the road. They have the best paninis in Dublin, trust me, I practically live there," he joked, attempting to lighten the atmosphere and Dermont chuckled politely and opened the car door, allowing you to slide in shotgun.

As they drove down the busy streets of Dublin, your nerves subsided and the three of you engaged in lighthearted banter, speaking about everything apart from James. For the first time in months, you laughed wholeheartedly and felt your worries melt away, if only for a short while.

You glanced over at Cillian and caught him staring at you, his piercing blue eyes softening as they met yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and you quickly turned away, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. Cillian's gaze lingered on you for a moment before he too turned away, clearing his throat awkwardly.

The car ride was short, and before you knew it, they arrived at the cafe. Cillian parked the car and the three of you made your way inside.

Despite the bustling lunchtime crowd, Cillian somehow managed to secure a cozy corner booth for the three of you, complete with plush cushions and a view of the bustling Dublin Street outside.

You settled into the booth, letting out a sigh of relief as your body relaxed into the comfortable seat. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt this safe, this protected. It was as if Cillian and Dermont were your personal bodyguards, shielding you from the dangers of the outside world.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards them both, their presence a comforting balm to your troubled soul.

After finishing your lunch, the three of you decided to head back to Cillian's office to continue working on your case which pretty much took all afternoon, following which Cillian sent an application to both, the police and the courts, to get your matter started.

Once this was done, Cillian drove you back to the shelter  and dropped you off, promising to pick you up early the following morning to begin preparations for the next few days to get the interim orders drawn up, but just as you stepped out of the car, you noticed something strange. 

There was a black sedan parked in front of the shelter with two men sitting inside. As you watched, one of the men pulled out a cell phone, while the other kept a watchful eye on the entrance.

Thinking nothing much of it, you turned back to Cillian, who was still seated in the driver's seat. "See you tomorrow, Cillian," you said with a slight smile before calling it a night.

"See you tomorrow Y/N," he told you before, finally, driving off. 

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