#Polly gray smut
Note
Ask and you shall receive :)
2,5,6 + "you like my name? Ok, then moan it." With Polly Gray
Thank you ❤️
Snowed In, Let Me Show you How it’s Done ~Polly Gray xFem Younger(20s)!Reader ~Holiday Bingo
Summary— Polly, the Shelby’s, and Reader, Esme’s cousin, are all stuck in the Shelby Birmingham home due to a show storm. Sparks fly between you and Polly. Anon Response— Hi hi anon!! Thanks for the request. I can absolutely write this! Hope you Enjoy ♥️
Previous Day <—found here!
Holiday Bingo <—Here!!
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Prompt— Snowed In/Blizzard & “You like my name? Ok, then moan it.”
#2. “Be a good girl and tie yourself to the bed posts”
#5. “Shut up and kiss me already”
#6. “My eyes are up here”
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, age gap (all legal), grinding, eating out, fingering, restraint use, gagging, ball gagging use, teasing, kissing, semi-public teasing, flustering, praise, implied praise kink, implied gagging kink, etc.
Enjoy (;
All the Shelby’s and associates pent up in the Birmingham house was bound for chaos. It was a blizzard. The worst of its kind to ever cross over all of England. And it was hitting Birmingham hard.
The kids were running all around the house, until eventually Arthur shut them up inside the living room, so that the adults could discuss in peace in the betting room.
Aunt Pol sat in her chair in the middle of the big centerpiece table, smoking and chuckling to herself as she watched the hectic dysfunction. Being snowed in was certainly free entertainment for the older woman.
You stood uncomfortably in the corner of the room, unsure of what to do. You were Esme’s cousin, and Esme had invited you over, as she often did. Now you were stuck in the house, with the Shelby’s.
Polly scanned the room and each person her gaze met, before landing on you. She smoked some more and puffed the smoke up in the air, her gaze still on you. Her free hand on the table indicated for you to join her at the table, along with a slight nod of her head.
You timidly came forward, sitting and angling yourself next to the woman with crossed legs. You blushed lightly under the woman’s eyes. The room was anything but silent, but Polly’s silence made all the over sound drown out.
“Your Esme’s cousin, Y/N… right?” She spoke, in a low and inquisitive tone and taking another puff.
“Yes” you said quietly, your head low as you nodded.
“We’ve never officially met…” Aunt Pol hummed, “I’m Polly. Family calls me Aunt Pol.”
Her free hand was now out underneath her table, offering to shake yours. You took a breath, extending your hand and taking hers to shake it. Her grasp was direct and firm, but not overbearing like most of the hands you’d shook. And her hands were silky to the touch, yet still thoroughly worked and rough. The contrast made your head spin.
Hell, her entire demeanor alone just made you dizzy in the head…
Once you let her hand, you immediately missed her touch. But you didn’t have to wait long for more, as Polly’s hand then landed on the knee of your crossed leg. Your breath hitched lightly and you blushed even harder. Polly leaned in closer, and her tone went lower and quieter.
“Tell me about yourself, Darling.”
You gulped and your eyes widened slightly.
How could you refuse this woman..?
“Um…. Well I…” you stammered, your attention and eyes diverted to the woman’s hand slowly creeping up your leg, closer and closer to your inner thigh.
“My eyes are up here…” Polly hums teasingly.
Your eyes shot back up to Polly’s gaze, as they widened even more.
“Sorry Polly…” you whimper, “I… I was married, b-but he died… in the war.”
Polly’s eyes softened, and her hand on your thigh started to rub and caress you caringly.
“Oh Love, I’m sorry… I understand some, my husband died as well.” She cooed softly.
You took a deep breath.
“It’s alright, actually a pretty good thing… he wasn’t… the best…” you quietly admitted.
You tried to convey your certain sense of dislike for your husband, which Polly immediately picked up on.
“Never did the trick, huh…?” She bluntly said, with a teasing edge to her tone.
Your blush tenfolded at her words, and her hand had continued its teasing once more. You shook your head lightly in embarrassment.
“No need to be embarrassed, Love…” Polly immediately cooed, “When’s the last time?”
Her fingers tipped against your closed thighs. You immediately uncrossed your legs, opening them up to the other woman’s access. Polly hummed in satisfaction of your immediate obedience.
“With him. Years ago…” you whispered.
Polly’s eyes widened and her mouth threatened to drop in light shock, instead she took another puff of smoke before smushing the cigarette against the table, effectively putting it out.
Her fingers had crept in your dress and were running light circles over your clothed clit. You sucked in a breath and resisted the urge to roll her eyes back and let out a breathy moan.
“We’ll probably be in this mess for a while… Want help…?” Polly suggestively cooed.
“Ah—I…” you breathily stammered in a groan., “Y-yes please…”
Suddenly her touch was gone, her hand back in her own lap. Polly’s hand on the table reached over and clasped your wrist, tight but not one but painful.
“Upstairs, last room to the right. Left side drawer…” Polly purred in your ear, “Be a good girl and tie yourself to the bed posts.”
Your breath hitched and you nodded slowly.
“Yes Polly…” you whimpered.
You left the betting room first to go up the stairs, and entering into Polly’s room. You look around, finding the bed and immediately stripping down to your undergarments. You got on the bed, reaching into the left side drawer and pulling out some ribbon ties.
Polly left to join you a couple minutes later. She walked into her room, closing and locking the door behind her. Her eyes landed on the sight of you, with one hand tied to the metal head of the bed while struggling to tie your other hand to the opposite end of the metal. Polly smirked.
She had you all to herself. And none in the house, adult or child, was the wiser…
Polly came up to the side of the bed that you couldn’t quite tie your hand to, taking the tie from you.
“Let me.” She said, helping you tie it. She took that moment to allow her gaze to sweep up and down your undressed body. She bit her lip in satisfaction.
Polly then backed away to the edge of the bed to fully examine you. You wiggled against your ties, squirming underneath the woman’s gaze.
“Please Polly…” you whimpered. Polly chuckled. Her gaze made it feel like she was about to pounce on you. And oh how you wanted that so badly…
But instead, the older woman stayed standing before the edge of the bed, as she began stripping. She took off every last piece of clothing, slowly and tantalizingly. You bit your lip, yet still unsuccessful as the whimpers and groans still left your lips.
Polly loved all the sounds she was drawing from you. Finally, she was completely out of clothes to disrobe out of. And the woman finally got on the bed, and crawled up to you.
You immediately opened your legs wide for the woman to crawl in between. Polly did so happily. She hovered over you, her gaze going once more up and down your figure, looking like she was ready to eat you up.
“Do you care about your undergarments…?” Polly inquisitively and lustfully cooed, her eyes darkening as she gazed down at the little clothing you still had on.
“Mmmm not really, cost a bit…” you groaned, arching up into the woman, desperate for any touch. You already knew that her touch made you dizzy. The she made your mind go fuzzy. You wanted more. You wanted her to make you silly, to go dumb from her touch.
“Hmmmm, you’ll have to be quiet…” Polly purred, “Can’t have the family catching on…”
“Mhmmmm just shut up and kiss me already Polly please—!” You groaned, tugging against your restraints again.
Polly only chuckled and pulled away, making you lose hope of any and all touch in the near future. She sat herself at the back of the bed, barely in between your feet.
“Tsk tsk tsk, that’s no way to ask for something, Darling… Use your manners.” Polly cooed wickedly.
“I—no I’m sorry…! Sorry please come back Polly— Need you close please” you stuttered out, your face going deep red as the older woman watched you intently.
She quirked an eyebrow at you. Polly then got on all fours and stalked back up to you, hovering above you once more. She had undone her pinned curls when she had stripped, so as she lowered herself to you, her haired angel’s angelically around her face.
Then Polly’s lips were on yours. It was no question that she was in charge, and that she was dominating the kiss. Your heart was racing at the feeling of her again. You moaned lightly into the kiss, happily letting the older woman take the lead. But she pulled away too fast, making you only want more or her even more so.
“You like my name, Darling…? Alright, then moan it.” Polly purred wickedly.
Your eyes widened and you gulped.
Polly then began kissing and sucking marks on your skin, along your neck and shoulders. She hit the sensitive spot on your collar bone, making you squirm against her and the ties.
“Ahhhhh P-polly…!!” You moaned out.
“Hmmmmm, good girl…” the older woman hummed, continuing her markings along your skin.
Without warning, the woman tore your bra right off you with a quick tug and snap. It was thrown aside with ease. You gasped and were pretty sure that the clasp had broken from it. But before you could voice your complaint, Polly’s hot mouth was latched around your left nipple.
“Ahhh..Mmmm—! Pol…!!” You squeaked out in light shock but even greater pleasure.
“I’ll buy you a new one…” Polly cooed, as she switched to your other perked bud.
As she focused her attention and her tongue on your right nipple, one of her hands slipped down your frame and to your knickers. She bit down on your bud, while ripping your knickers with ease. You yelped and arched your back up into Polly in response.
Arching your hips, Polly was able to remove your knickers and throw those to the aside as well.
“I’ll buy you a new set…” Polly purred, moving off your tits with her tongue, and starting her journey further down south, where you so desperately needed the woman.
Finally, her tongue reached your lower patch of curls. Polly hummed in delight as she dipped her tongue into your folds. You arched your back and bucked your hips up to the woman’s face, pulling again against your restraints.
“Yes yes yes Polly please don’t sttopp—!!” You cried out, so happy to have the feeling of a woman’s touch once again.
“Shhhhh, don’t make me gag you, Love…” Polly hummed through your folds.
You bit your lip and whimpered, “Sorry Polly…”
“Hmmmm, it’s alright…” Polly cooed, now latching her lips on your clit and sucking.
Your eyes rolled back and your hips jerked up.
“Ohhhhhh GOD Pol—!!!” You practically screamed.
Polly pulled away slightly with a chuckle, reaching for her drawer. You gasped and gulped, realizing how loud you had just been.
“I—I’m sorry fuck sorry sorry Polly—” you rambled.
Polly chuckled darkly, pulling out a ball gag from the drawer.
“Know what this is…?”
Your eyes widened and you nodded.
“I’m not afraid to put it on you if you can’t be quiet, understand Darling…?” Polly purred in your ear.
You gulped and nodded vigorously.
“I understand Polly…” you whimpered.
“Good girl.” Polly hummed, placing the ball gag right next to your head as a reminder.
She lowered herself back down to your core, immediately dipping her tongue into your sex, making you arch your back once more and whimper out in pleasure.
Polly now began eating you out a ruthless pace. Her tongue sloshed in and out of your cunt, and while one hand held your thighs firmly from crushing her head, her other hand was in between your legs, her thumb working your clit.
Your legs shook and you bit your lip to muffle the cry that tore through you as you came for the first time that snowed in day. Your eyes rolled back and you lost your composure, groaning too loudly for how thin the walls were.
But Polly was swift. While her tongue fucked you through your first orgasm, the finger on your clit quickly got stuffed into your mouth, effectively muffling your cries as you came down from your high. Once Polly was sure your high had teetered out, she removed her fingers from your mouth and brought herself back up to your upper body.
She chuckled and grabbed the ball gag. You whimpered and begged the woman with your eyes. But the way your legs were rubbing together in need of friction and the way your body arched upward to the woman told Polly that you didn’t mind the gag one bit. She positioned the ball gag around your head so that the ball was placed perfectly in your mouth.
Your eyes pled Polly for more.
“Now we can actually begin…” Polly teased you, “And I can make you drool much easier…” she added with a wink.
You groaned, which easily got muffled by the ball gag, so instead you ground your hips up against Polly’s legs.
“Alright alright…” Polly chuckled, positioning her legs entangled with yours so that her cunt could easily grind against yours.
Polly rolled her hips, creating a delicious friction in between your cunts, making your pull harshly against your ties as your eyes rolled back. You immediately and wildly bucked your own hips back.
Polly smirked and kept a strong yet slow tempo of grinding her sex against yours. It was slowly corroding your sense of competency and self. Meanwhile, her hand wandered up your figure and pinched your nipples without warning, sending jolts of hot pleasure coursing through your veins, along with the slowly building pleasure of the grinding.
You yelped, whimpered, and moaned out loudly, but it was all muffled by the gag. And this only seemed to spur Polly on even more. Polly’s grindings began to speed up and to become more sloppy. Before you knew it, you were crashing over the edge once more. And Polly was right behind you.
She collapsed on top of you, your legs still entangled. You loved the feeling of the woman skin on skin with you. It made you terribly needy and your body sparked with pleasure.
Polly was quick to sit back up, this time straddling your stomache. Her breathing was labored and she looked angelic in her post-orgasmic sheen of sweat. Her pupils were big and dark, starring down at you.
She continued to met your gaze, as her hand slithered behind her and in between your legs. Her fingers met your slick and sensitive sex, and you immediately bucked and jerked your hips in response, still sensitive from the last two orgasms.
“Want more, Love…?” Polly breathlessly and lustfully cooed.
You nodded vigorously, your whole body still on edge from your last high. Polly wasted no time in plunging two fingers into your core. Your eyes rolled back as you adjusted to her manicured digits. She began to pump and curl her fingers inside you. Your hips eagerly met her hand with similar rhythmic thrusts.
You closed your eyes from how overstimulating it was all starting to be. Polly slid a third finger inside you.
“Nuh uh… Eyes open. Look at me.” Polly tutted, punctuating her sentences with a pointed curl each time.
Your toes curled in delight with each thrust, and your legs started to shake again. You pulled against your ties, and you moaned desperately as you got dangerously close to your next orgasm. Polly could tell.
“Cum for me, Love.” She cooed.
That was all you needed to topple over the edge and scream your way through your high. All of which was gagged of course. But it didn’t make it any less of entertainment for Polly.
She grinned wickedly, as she swiped touting your folds afterwards, making you nearly start to cry at how raw and sensitive you were. If you could have begged for her to stop, you would have, but at the same time, you wanted to bed for more.
Polly decided for you, getting off of you, and going to undo your ties. She kissed your wrists as she undid them from their ribbon restraints. She took off the gag, then Polly went to grab a washcloth, so that she could clean you up. After she had payed the power attention to you, she lit a cigarette and sat next to you in the bed.
She smoked the cigarette with a long puff, sighing in satisfaction. Your heart was still racing and you were still electrified with pleasure. Polly pulled you into her lap.
“You did really good.” She hummed, then offering you a smoke, which you politely declined.
“Thanks…” you bashfully murmured, your red face returning to you.
“Such a good girl…” Polly cooed, making you go beet red in the face, making the older woman giggle.
~~~
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Forever a Shelby
Thomas Shelby x Wife Reader
Summary: Thomas and you get married.
Wordcount: 4.2k
Warnings:
protective! Thomas, cocky! Thomas if you squint, kissing, lap sitting,
Thomas Shelby stood at the altar, the weight of his suit jacket pressing down on his broad shoulders. The church was grand, decorated with white lilies and gold ribbons, a stark contrast to the gritty streets of Birmingham that he knew so well.
Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the stone floor. The pews were filled with both Shelbys and Changrettas, two families whose histories were steeped in blood and rivalry. Today, however, was meant to be a day of unity, a truce symbolized by the marriage of Thomas Shelby and the daughter of his fiercest enemy, Luca Changretta. Arthur stood beside him, a rare softness in his eyes as he glanced back at the congregation. He reached out, patting Thomas on the shoulder, his grip firm but comforting. "Nervous, Tommy?"
Thomas turned his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could almost be considered a smile. "No, Arthur," he replied, his voice low and steady. "Nervous ain't in my nature." His accent, thick and rich, rolled off his tongue, a constant reminder of his roots.
Polly Gray sat in the front row, her dark eyes fixed on her nephew. There was a mixture of pride and apprehension in her gaze, a silent prayer for the future. Beside her, Michael leaned back, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed the gathering. Arthur's wife, Linda, looked on with a serene expression, her hand resting in her lap. John sat a few rows behind, bouncing his baby on his knee, his wife Esme smiling warmly at the scene. Ada, dressed in a striking blue dress, chatted animatedly with Finn, while Johnny Dogs and Isaiah exchanged hushed whispers, their eyes darting around the room. The tension in the air was palpable, a heady mix of anticipation and unease. Thomas felt it in his bones, the weight of expectations and the ghosts of the past pressing down on him. Marrying into the Changretta family was a strategic move, but it wasn’t a strategic move on his part, it was love. Yes, Thomas Shelby had fallen in love with a Changretta but the same could be said for her.
“Now, hush Arthur. She’ll be walking down that aisle any minute now,” Thomas murmured, his voice a low growl that carried an edge of authority. He straightened his posture, his gaze fixed on the ornate doors at the end of the aisle
Arthur looked at him again; “You sure you’re not nervous?” Thomas could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on him, waiting for his reaction. He turned his head slightly, his gaze locking onto Arthur’s for a moment before he replied.
“I said I’m not fucking nervous, Arthur,” he said, his voice low and steady, laced with a thick Birmingham accent that carried an edge of impatience. To emphasize his point, he kicked Arthur in the back of his left knee, causing his brother to stumble briefly. Thomas chuckled, a rare, genuine sound that broke the tension momentarily. He could always count on Arthur to lighten the mood, even if unintentionally.
The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse; who was he kidding? It was for better! As the doors opened fully, revealing her figure, Thomas felt a rush of emotions. She stood there, framed by the golden light that spilled in from the hallway, her silhouette ethereal and almost otherworldly. Her dress, a delicate creation of black lace and satin, hugged her form gracefully, the long train trailing behind her like a whisper. A veil covered her face, but even through the sheer fabric, Thomas could see the outline of her features, delicate and serene.
Her father, Luka Changretta, stood beside her, his expression a mask of pride and caution. The tension between the two men was palpable, a silent reminder of the bloody history that lay between their families. Thomas’s eyes never left her as she began her slow walk down the aisle. Each step she took seemed to echo in his mind, a steady rhythm that matched the beating of his heart. He could see the slight tremble in her hands, the way she clutched her bouquet of white roses a little too tightly. Despite the nerves, she moved with a grace and determination that he found both admirable and endearing.
Arthur leaned in slightly, his voice a whisper in Thomas’s ear. “She looks beautiful, Tommy.”
Thomas nodded, unable to tear his eyes away from her. “Aye, she does,” he replied, his voice softer now, filled with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel. In that moment, he felt a connection to her that went beyond their shared history, beyond the political and familial implications of their marriage. It was something deeper, a bond that he hoped would grow stronger with time. The sound of the organ began to fill the room, a deep, resonant melody that signaled the start of the ceremony. The guests fell silent, their attention shifting to the doors that were slowly opening. Thomas took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it, the moment that would seal their fate, for better or worse. But it was never worse, it saw always for better. As she reached the front of the aisle, Luka placed her hand in Thomas’s, a gesture heavy with significance. Their eyes met, while under the veil; a silent understanding passing between them, He lifted the delicate veil that covered her face, their eyes meeting in a silent understanding. This was not just a marriage of convenience or strategy; it was a commitment to each other, to the future they would build together.
Jeremiah stood before them, the priest's presence both comforting and solemn. His voice, deep and resonant, filled the chapel, echoing off the ancient walls. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together in holy matrimony Thomas Michael Shelby and _______ LaPaglia Changretta." His words carried the weight of history and expectation, binding not just two people, but two families with a fraught past.
Thomas's eyes flickered to the woman beside him. _______ LaPaglia Changretta. She was beautiful, her dark hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes a deep, enigmatic brown. Her dress was elegant, simple yet stunning, the black fabric contrasting sharply with her olive skin. She stood with a quiet grace, her expression serene, yet there was a fire in her eyes that spoke of strength and determination.
Jeremiah's voice cut through the silence. "Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take _______ LaPaglia Changretta to be your lawful wedded wife?" Thomas felt the weight of the moment pressing down on him. Every decision, every move he made was calculated, and this was no different. "I do," he said, his voice steady, firm. It was a commitment not just to her, but to the path he had chosen, the alliances he was forging.
He turned to her. "Do you, _______ LaPaglia Changretta, solemnly swear to love, honor, and obey till death do you part?" Her response was immediate, her voice clear and unwavering. "I do." There was a finality in those words, a binding promise that echoed through the chapel, sealing their fates together.
Jeremiah's proclamation was met with a collective breath, as if the entire room had been holding it in anticipation. "I now pronounce you husband and wife." The words hung in the air, a declaration that felt both momentous and surreal. Thomas turned to his new wife, his expression unreadable. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a kiss that sealed their union. It was a kiss that spoke of duty and obligation, but beneath it all, there was a spark, a glimmer of something more. As they turned to face their families, the applause was polite, restrained. This was no ordinary wedding, and the people gathered here understood the gravity of the situation. Arthur left the alter and walk to the pew to join his family. Their expression a mix of approval and caution. Polly Gray, ever the matriarch, watched with a keen eye, her sharp mind assessing every nuance, every subtle shift in the room.
The Changrettas were less expressive, their faces a mask of formality. Luca Changretta's presence was a dark cloud, a reminder of the delicate balance they were trying to achieve. His eyes bore into Thomas, a silent challenge that promised future confrontation. Thomas took her hand as they walked down the aisle, the weight of expectation heavy on his shoulders. Every step was a reminder of the path he had chosen, he wouldn’t ever regret it; the future he was forging. The guests rose as they passed, their eyes following the couple, whispers of speculation and curiosity filling the air. This was a union that would be talked about for years to come, a merging of two powerful families with a history of bloodshed and betrayal.
Outside the chapel, the sun shone brightly, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere within. The reception awaited, a lavish affair that promised to be both a celebration and a test of the new alliance. As they stepped into the sunlight, Thomas felt the warmth on his face, a brief respite from the shadows that seemed to follow him wherever he went. He glanced at her, her smile a beacon of hope in the uncertainty that lay ahead.
"Welcome to the family," Thomas said, his voice low, the Birmingham accent thick and unmistakable.
The kitchen was a stark contrast to the rest of Arrow House, filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and the earthy scent of the wood burning in the hearth. Thomas stood at the head of the room, his piercing blue eyes scanning the room, ensuring he had the attention of every man present. The weight of the day was palpable; this was his wedding day, a day that marked a significant turning point in his life and the Shelby family. His dark suit was meticulously tailored, each stitch a testament to his attention to detail, and his peaked cap sat jauntily on his head, casting a shadow over his face that made his intense expression even more formidable.
"Right, boys, you're all here," he began, his voice carrying the authoritative edge that had come to define him. The men around the kitchen, his brothers Arthur, John, and Finn, along with Michael and a few trusted others, like Charlie and Johnny Dogs turned their attention to him. Each face was a study in respect and a touch of fear, for they knew Thomas was not a man to be crossed, especially not today.
"Today, this is my fucking wedding day," Thomas continued, his tone brooking no argument. His words hung in the air, heavy with the unspoken understanding that this day was sacred, not just for him, but for the entire Shelby clan. It was a rare occasion of vulnerability, where the hard-edged leader allowed a glimpse of the man beneath the armor.
John, ever the irreverent one, couldn't help but interject. "Yeah, and you said there'd be no bloody uniforms," he said, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and humor. The tension in the room crackled for a moment, a testament to the volatile nature of their relationships. Thomas fixed John with a steely gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Nevertheless... Nevertheless, John..." he began, his voice a low growl that seemed to reverberate off the walls. He took a step closer, his presence dominating the room. "Despite the bad blood, I'll have none of it on my carpet." His words were a command, not a request, and the message was clear: today was about unity, not division.
His gaze swept around the circle, making eye contact with each man, ensuring they understood the gravity of his words. "Now for my wife's sake, nothing will go wrong," he declared, his voice firm and unyielding. His love for his bride was a rare softness in his otherwise hardened demeanor, and he was determined to protect her from the chaos that often surrounded the Shelbys. Thomas pointed outside the kitchen, towards the bustling preparations for the wedding. "Those bastards out there are her family," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disdain. He had little patience for those who might threaten the harmony of his wedding day, and he would go to great lengths to ensure everything went smoothly.
His hand traveled around the circle, pointing at each man in turn as he spoke. "And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything..." His voice trailed off as he fixed his gaze on Arthur, the eldest and most unpredictable of the brothers. There was a pause, a moment where the weight of his words seemed to settle over the room like a heavy fog.
Isaiah, leaning casually against the counter, broke the uneasy silence. "Tom..?" Thomas's gaze snapped to Isaiah, a flicker of impatience crossing his features. "To... WHAT!?" he barked, his voice low but commanding.
He hesitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "What about snow," he ventured, his tone cautious. John eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "Yeah, their women are sports, I’ll say that.."
"No. No. No." Thomas cut him off sharply, striding towards Isaiah with purpose. He stopped inches from his face, his breath hot and laced with the smell of tobacco. "No cocaine," he said, jabbing a finger towards Isaiah's face for emphasis. "No cocaine."
The room fell silent, the tension palpable as Thomas turned his attention to John, who stood to Isaiah's right. "No sport," Thomas said, waving his hand dismissively. "No telling fortunes."
He began to pace, the soles of his polished shoes tapping rhythmically against the tiled floor. Each step seemed to echo with unspoken threats, a reminder of the consequences of disobedience. He approached Arthur, his oldest and most volatile brother, stopping just short of him. "No racing," Thomas ordered, his voice a low growl. Arthur met his gaze with a slight nod, the fire in his eyes dimmed by his brother's authority. Breaking from the circle, Thomas crossed to Finn, the youngest of the Shelby brothers. Grabbing Finn's face with his left hand, he forced him to look into his eyes. "No fucking sucking petrol," he snarled, his grip tightening. He delivered a light slap to Finn's cheek, a reminder of the discipline he expected. "Out of their fucking cars."
Satisfied, Thomas released Finn and turned to Charlie, who had been lingering on the edge of the group. "And, you, Charlie," he said, his voice softer but no less intense. "Stop spinning yards about me, eh?" Charlie, taken aback, spoke up as Thomas turned his back. "I'm just trying to sell you to them, Tom," he defended.
Thomas took a deep drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his face as he exhaled. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, a rare sign of the stress he carried. Returning to the center of the circle, he spun slowly, addressing them all. "But the main thing is, you bunch of fuckers," he began, his voice rising with intensity. "Despite the provocation from her family, no fighting."
He turned his head slightly, locking eyes with Isaiah. The room seemed to hold its breath as Thomas slowly made his way toward him, the echo of his footsteps on the wooden floor punctuating the silence. As he reached Isaiah, Thomas lifted his chin with a firm but controlled hand, forcing Isaiah to meet his gaze. His eyes were cold, yet there was a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken understanding, perhaps. “Oi,” Thomas began, his voice a low growl that resonated with authority. He pointed a finger at Isaiah, his expression unwavering. “No fighting.”
With a swift, deliberate movement, Thomas shifted to his right, positioning himself in front of John. He didn’t waste a moment, his finger darting out to point at John with the same intensity. “No fucking fighting,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument. John's smirk faltered under Thomas's glare, replaced by a nod of compliance.
Thomas moved again, this time to Arthur. Their eyes met, and an unspoken tension filled the air. Arthur, ever the wild card, was the one Thomas needed to keep in check the most. Pointing at his older brother, Thomas's voice was a commandment. “No fighting.” Arthur, his usual bravado momentarily subdued, nodded with a grunt, understanding the gravity of the order. Next, Thomas’s eyes fell on Michael, who was leaning against the wall with a nonchalant air. Without a word, Thomas pointed at him. Michael straightened up, his casual demeanor replaced by a look of acknowledgement. The silent exchange spoke volumes—Michael knew exactly what was expected of him.
Finally, Thomas turned towards Finn’s direction, his youngest brother, “No,” he said, his voice slicing through the tension. He then swung his gaze back to Arthur’s direction. “Fucking.” And finally, his eyes landed on Charlie's direction. “Fighting.”
The room fell silent once more, the weight of Thomas’s words hanging heavily in the air. Each man understood the simplicity of the command. In this room, defying Thomas Shelby was not an option. Thomas took a drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light, and exhaled a plume of smoke. He walked towards his coat, which was draped over a chair between Michael and Arthur. “Good,” he muttered, his satisfaction evident in the single word. With his back turned slightly, Thomas didn’t see the butler approaching. The man, new to the household and unfamiliar with the Shelby way, hesitated for a moment too long. The collision was inevitable. The impact was sudden, and Thomas spun around, his face a mask of fury. “Get the fuck off me!” he snarled, shoving the butler to the ground. The bottle of wine the butler had been holding shattered on the floor, red liquid spreading like blood across the wood.
Arthur, ever the enforcer, hurled his glass at the butler, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room. The butler scrambled to his feet, fear written all over his face as he hurried out of the kitchen, leaving behind a mess of broken glass and spilled wine. Thomas exhaled one last plume of smoke before stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray. He adjusted his coat, smoothing out the fabric as he straightened up. “Right,” he said, his voice breaking the silence. “Let’s get this done.” He turned on his heel and strode out of the kitchen, his family and comrades falling into step behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoed through the hallway as they made their way towards the main event. Thomas’s mind was already racing ahead, planning, strategizing, ensuring that everything would go smoothly. But the words he had spoken in the kitchen lingered in the air, a solemn vow that no matter what happened, there would be no fighting. Not today.
As Thomas Shelby sat at the head of the table during his wedding dinner, the room was alive with the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversation. He raised the crystal glass to his lips, savoring the last drops of whiskey that burned pleasantly down his throat. Setting the glass down with a soft clink, his eyes swept across the room, taking in the faces of his family and the guests. His gaze lingered for a moment on his wife her beauty striking even in the dim candlelight. She was radiant, her smile lighting up the room. But as his eyes drifted to her father, he noticed the man's steely gaze fixed upon him. Thomas arched an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"You look absolutely stunning today, luv," Thomas remarked, his voice low and tinged with admiration. "Hard to keep me eyes off of you." He reached out to gently squeeze her hand, a small, affectionate gesture amidst the formality of the occasion.
"I can say the same for you, Mr. Shelby," she replied, her smile radiant as she returned his gaze, her eyes sparkling with happiness.
Thomas smiled, a rare, genuine expression that softened his features. His attention then shifted to her father, a man of stature and presence, seated a bit farther down to her. "Well, you're not the only one whose eyes are on me, eh?" he quipped, a hint of playful charm in his voice.
"Luv," he murmured, leaning towards his wife, "would you mind telling your father to stop staring me down, eh?" His tone was light, teasing, but there was a hint of challenge in his eyes.
His bride glanced nervously at her father, then back at Thomas. "Tommy, I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice tinged with apprehension, "but that's just how he is."
Thomas nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I see," he replied, his voice low and measured. He leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. He was used to dealing with difficult situations, but this was his wedding day, a day that should have been free of such tensions.
There was a moment of hesitation, a flicker of doubt in Thomas's eyes as he considered the weight of his actions. But then, with a determined glint in his eye, he reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand. She looked at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and he knew that this was where he belonged. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that was both tender and passionate, a silent declaration of his love and commitment. The room erupted into applause and cheers, the sound echoing off the walls as Thomas and Luka's families celebrated their union.
Hours had slipped by like fleeting ghosts since Thomas had exchanged vows, and now, in the quiet intimacy of their bedroom, he sat with his new wife perched gently on his lap. The flickering light from the bedside lamp cast a warm glow, accentuating the soft features of her face and the delicate curves of her figure. He gazed at her, his eyes tracing every line, every contour, as if committing her beauty to memory.
"You're absolutely gorgeous, Mrs. Shelby," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rasp that betrayed a hint of awe. His hands, calloused yet gentle, cradled her waist, fingers tracing idle patterns on the fabric of her dress. The weight of her presence on his lap was a comfort, grounding him in the reality of this new chapter of his life.
"I like when you call me Mrs. Shelby," she said softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet room. Her words were like a balm to his weary soul, a reminder of the new life they were beginning together.
Thomas wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her hair. It was a moment of peace amidst the chaos that always seemed to follow him.
"I like it too," he replied, his voice low and gravelly. "It suits you, Mrs. Shelby."
"You're fuckin' perfect for me... y'know that?" Thomas's voice was low, almost a whisper, but filled with sincerity. His hand reached up to cup her face, his thumb brushing gently against her cheek. There was a gentleness in his touch, a rare vulnerability that he showed only to her.
Their lips met in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of their love and commitment to each other. It was a moment of pure intimacy, a shared connection that transcended words. Her hands roamed freely, exploring his body with a familiarity that spoke of countless nights spent together. Thomas pulled her closer, his other hand wrapping around her waist, holding her as if afraid she might slip away. Their kiss deepened, a silent communication of their love and desire for each other. It was a dance they knew well, a rhythm that was uniquely theirs. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss even further. His hair, usually so meticulously styled, was now a tousled mess, a testament to the passion between them. She loved the way his hair felt between her fingers, the way it seemed to have a life of its own.
They broke the kiss, but remained intertwined, her head resting against his chest, his chin on her shoulder. They sat in comfortable silence, the weight of the day's events slowly settling on their shoulders. The gravity of their new union was not lost on Thomas; he knew the responsibilities that came with it, the need to protect and provide for his new family. His mind drifted to the future, a future now entwined with hers. He thought of the challenges they would face, the dangers that lurked in the shadows of their world. But he also thought of the moments of joy, the simple pleasures they would share.
Author’s Notes:
Y’all, I fucking love this oneshot..it’s so cute I finally did my own rendition of the wedding scene..ahhhhhhhh I feel like I got it just right y’all..ahh it’s fucking cute!!!
Deadass I should have written smut but nah, I don’t feel like it
#cillian murphy#cillian fanfic#cilliangifs#cillian series#cillian fluff#cillian fic#cillian x reader#cillian smut#cillian x fem!reader#cillian oneshots#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky fucking blinders#peaky fookin blinders#thomas shelby#thomas x reader#arthur shelby#john shelby#finn shelby#ada shelby#polly gray#micheal gray#inception#robert fischer#robert x reader#the dark knight trilogy#jonathan crane#crane x reader#dr. crane#fear toxin
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Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC
Summary: Running from your past doesn’t work anymore now that you’ve been directly involved in the Vendetta. Between violence, threats and schemes, you understand that you will only retrieve your peaceful haven with Arthur if you get out of this war with blood under your nails. featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader
Words: 7.5k
TW: alteration of canon events, canonical violence, graphic depiction of murder, SMUT +18, hint at gunplay, cockwarming, piv, non-protected , obsessive love, extreme co-dependent relationship. They are sincerely deranged, sorry about that. No proofreading, we die like men.
Notes:
✞ This is the last quiet chapter of Act II, shit will start to get real in the next part. Also, the smut is just a part of the chapter, not the entire thing.
✞ This is chapter 14 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.
PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART
The crackling symphony of burning wood whispered to the stillness, each pop and hiss forming the melody of a sorrowful farewell to John Shelby. Amidst the flickering glow you emerged, your white hair cascading like a waterfall of moonlight around your shoulders to the small of your back. The firelight waltzed upon your features, bringing up the mesmerizing interplay of diamond dust and frost that composed you.
How many more?
The question flashed in your thoughts, leaving a trail of caustic soda that scorched your skull from the inside. How many more of your loved ones should you see burn, their flesh eaten by a voracious fire, until God decided He had enough fun tormenting you? Two faint dimples appeared on your cheeks as you gritted your teeth, the cold winter wind blowing at the black veils of your long and seductive black dress that floated elegantly behind you like the sinister drapes of the Reaper's cloak. In utter silence, Arthur lowkey shifted his focus from the vardo to you with concern and, taking notice of the destructive sparkle in your eyes, pulled you closer. The sensation might have been comforting but your body didn’t answer to his affection, remaining limp and disconnected. To be completely honest, you were feeling so physically and emotionally cold that you would have believed you were made of frost if his coat, which was resting over your shoulders, and his comforting hand, that was on your lower back, weren't there to offer you a bit of warmth.
As the scent of Arthur's reassuring cologne kept you anchored to reality, you finally woke up from your gluey negativity and instinctively nestled against your husband, who placed a discreet and tender kiss on the corner of your lips. The familiar ticking of his facial hairs on your skin sent a wave of comfort through your soul and reminded you that, despite everything that had been going on between the two of you lately, he had been, still was, and will always be your only saving grace. You wondered if, maybe, it was time for you to go back home. Not that his betrayal had been forgotten or forgiven, but you needed him more than ever. For a shit ton of reasons.
“You’re frozen, angel. You sure you wanna stay hm?” He whispered, the tender gravel in his voice clearing your morbid contemplation of the burning vardo, which brought to your mind the sickening memories of your mother and little sister burning at the stake. A long exhale escaped from your fleshy lips as you tried to keep the demons of your past on a leash — and ignore a sudden wave of nausea.
“I’m not going anywhere. If John is burning I might as well freeze.” Your reply was a bit blunter than intended, but Arthur got it. The way you watched the flames climb higher and higher left no doubt about the devastating anger raging inside. They will pay, you silently swore to John, convinced he could hear you from where he was. If bringing him back was out of your abilities, at least you could avenge him by bringing upon every single man who plotted his death a demise worse than death. Just like Thomas Shelby, they would soon know how much pain you could inflict with your tiny and delicate hands, the holiness of your appearance being nothing more than a facade to mask the methodical killer you were. To hell with the promise of not killing again, having blood on your hands seemed to be the price to pay for Arthur and his love. While you lost yourself in the meanders of your thoughts, the cacophonic detonations of gunshots roared in the quiet meadow.
You had barely heard them when, with movements nimble and quick, you pushed Arthur to the ground and stood still to protect him in a reflex you couldn’t fight. The booming sounds might have been loud, they didn’t made you flinch. Quite the contrary, your aquamarine eyes stared at the horizon in search of the slightest threat, just in case the shots fired hadn’t come from the Gold. For a very short while you had been the only one standing, all the Shelby clan on the ground with hands covering their head. Even Tommy, who had schemed the attack, played the safety card and remained covered just the time to make sure the shootings came from their side.
"For fuck's sake, Heaven." Arthur barked at you as he stood up on his long legs, ignoring Tommy in the background who was keeping everyone under his control by yelling. The lanky gangster's hand grabbed your fragile wrist firmly and pulled you closer to him again, steel blue eyes glowing with disapproval at your reckless behavior.
"That was Thomas’ plan right?” You simply replied, your reliable source of information being Aberama and Bonnie themselves -- it was a part of the many perks of living with them in the nearby woods.
“Come on, Angel! A plan ain't going to be always working ay. It could have been the Ital—“ The oldest Shelby brother, with his thick brows furrowed, could not finish his sentence for you hushed him by cupping his face with your freezing little hands. Falling silent, the wolf turned into a lamb as you gently pressed his cheeks, forcing him to look at you.
"Chéri." You started, the pink tip of your tongue moistening your enchanting lips. Each of your movements seemed to bewitch him, to the extent that he almost forgot why he had been that irked, the inferno of his rage instantly cooling down, "I am fine see?” Despite the softness of your voice, he could sense a bit of impatience in your steady tone. Without leaving any time for questions or protests, you laid a small kiss on his cold lips, "We are fine." The melody of your voice was merely a whisper that vanished in the howling wind when your winter lips met his a second time for a deeper kiss. Soft and glossy flesh against rough one. A wild storm of happiness coursed through Arthur at the sensation of this long-awaited mark of affection tingling on his skin, and electrifying his heart. A rapture so strong that the world blurred around him for a moment — he would have probably slipped his tongue in your mouth if the moment wasn't inappropriate. When you pulled back from him, your lips curled in a faint but sincere smile before you squished his scruffy cheeks and released his face from your cold grip. After three years together, it was only at this very moment that Arthur understood that he wasn’t the true guardian and fellow protector of the couple. You were.
Fiercer. Crazier. And certainly far more dangerous.
"Put us out there on purpose... To use John's funeral fire as a fucking beacon!" Aunt Polly's outraged and trembling voice erupted from behind, her words stabbing Tommy like red-hot daggers. If they hurt, he didn’t let it show though. Forced to part from you before his brother and aunt went for each other’s throat, Arthur intervened.
"We were never in any danger, Polly."
"You set a trap. You set a trap with us as fucking bait." She blurted out, standing from her chair and walking to Tommy with steps so furious you were pretty sure she was going to plow into him. Indignation was radiating off her, her dark eyes wishing they had the power to kill. If it had been the case little King Shelby would have been already lying in a pool of his own blood, "Who's dead?!"
After his younger brother had tried to explain to the old harpy that the victims were two Italians, Arthur went on, "We got word to them about the funeral, the where, the when… Told them where to stand for the best shot."
"And Aberama Gold will do the rest." Tommy completed his brother's sentence as if he was an extension of himself — which was the case, you reckoned, when he wasn't busy criticizing you for breathing. From then, the voices only escalated, trying to overcome one another and win the argument by screaming louder than the other until someone eventually gave up. Which was a miracle that would never happen since we were talking about Tommy and Polly. Both of them were two equally stubborn mutts fighting for the same bone and how this argument ended had been predictable: The fierce aunt left, Hell shaking under her heels.
Now was the perfect opportunity to talk.
"Arthur," Your divine voice hailing him, resounding in the meadow like a haunting siren’s song, its unsettling melody sending shivers down Ada's spine. She glanced at you and, for a quick second, the memory of you covered with blood flashed in her mind. Years had passed since you murdered Father’s Hughes accomplice with a pair of scissors but she still couldn't forget what happened back then. She wouldn’t admit it but her trust in you had never been the same from this moment.
Snatched from his thoughts, Arthur turned around, frowning. The family argument had soured his mood.
"Hm?"
"Now I wanna leave." You stated, your seraphic tone as sharp as the razor blades in your man’s cap. This hostility wasn’t aimed at him though, but at Tommy for you had pronounced these four words while glaring at him, indescribable hatred burning in your frozen iris. You might have been aware of the plan, it didn’t mean you agreed with it: the idea of using John’s funeral still infuriated you but your mourning soul hadn’t the strength to fight it. "I'm going home.” Arthur's heart missed a beat, afraid of seeing you disappear again in the depths of the woods. It had been one hell of a harsh week without you and while he — hardly — understood that you needed space, his patience was growing thin, worn out by jealousy and overwhelming dependence. After all, if Aberama was a thief, why wouldn’t he steal his most precious treasure? Or worse, he’s son. Younger, healthier and so much more handsome than him, he thought with gritted teeth and hateful eyes.
"Oh yeah? " Coming closer, Arthur tried his best not to let his murderous jealousy talk and, instead, took a long black key from the pocket of his dark duffle coat "Home ain't with the Gold. Home's—"
"57 Watery Lane. I go there, lock the door and wait for my husband. S'that what you wanted to say?" You suggested, one eyebrow raised and your pale eyes staring at him like two fathomless and cursed jewels. Arthur swallowed nervously, the intense eye contact feeling like an eternity. Besides immediate regrets, the reason for his silence was that he was convinced he messed up again, judging by your sudden cold demeanor. So, afraid you’d lash out at him for his sudden jealousy, all he did was nod and try to keep his composure in front of everyone to pretend he was the one in charge. But you knew him too well not to recognize the sadness in his beautiful but vacant steel-blue eyes. You knew exactly what was going on in his head: he was expecting you to reject him in front of everyone, just like Linda used to do. “Alright” You articulated, and yet your reaction was the strict opposite of what he thought you’d do. Bringing your hand to his, you gave it a gentle squeeze before taking the key, "That’s the home I was talking about, love." You added, your glossy lips curling in a faint but oh-so-reassuring smile that made him swoon with indescribable fascination. Punctuating your sentence with a little wink, you finally turned your heels and left the meadow, your walk as elegant and confident as a fearsome lioness coming back from the hunt.
A predatory and frightful confidence that disappeared as soon as you reached your house. You had barely heard the sound of the door closing when, sick in the stomach, you rushed to the toilets and dropped on your knees to throw up.
"Fuck..." The curse escaped from your trembling lips as you quickly wiped them with a towel, tears beading at the corner of your aquamarine eyes. Polly was right: you did know when to pick your moment. As strong as you were, you had trouble coping with the news of your unexpected pregnancy. So much trouble that you couldn’t rejoice and that lack of enthusiasm only added a layer of guilt to your restless mind. “Fuck!” You snarled, teeth bared. Fuck you, them, all, and everything.
The sound of your platform boots' sharp heels echoed in the sanitized corridors of the hospital as you headed towards Michael's bedroom, your hips elegantly swinging to the rhythm of the silent savage drums of your heart. Tommy had called another lengthy and boring meeting to discuss both the Shelby Company Limited's new installments and the Vendetta, and as well as you dreaded his presence you had to be a part of it now that you were a Shelby. Moreover, the whole mess got even more problematic since Luca Changretta had managed to find a way to break into the Shelby factory and directly talk to his turquoise-eyed opponent for the sole pleasure of seeing a sparkle of panic in his eyes when he threatened to kill the rest of his family.
Surprising as it may sound considering your deep resentment for Tommy's long speeches and the man himself, you arrived pretty early. Not for him, but for Polly Gray. By coming earlier, you knew you'd have a bit of time to talk privately with her about the baby, for she had been the one discovering your secret pregnancy. “Hey Pol’!" You cheered, a wicker basket filled with pastries dangling at your wrist, "I've brought some croissants and éclairs. Thought it could help put up with today's meeting." The bright smile you bore soon vanished from your plumped lips when your winter eyes met with the dark silhouette of your brother-in-law, standing in front of you with his calloused hands in his pockets and his cold gaze staring at your angelic complexions with an unfathomable look. Turning into ice again, your small hand immediately reached for the door handle.
"Stay. We have to talk." He stated, his tone cool and composed. As much as he wanted his sentence not to sound like an order, he ultimately failed. As he talked, all the muscles in your body tense and you felt already irked by his presence.
"Don't." You snarled, your crystalline eyes squinting when they shot him a lethal glare, "Don't fucking come any closer." The sour and threatening expression on your face had been enough to stop Tommy. He was now clenching his perfectly carved jaw. Admittedly, he had never particularly cared about your personal space, invading it on every occasion he could just to push you to your limits and make you feel cornered, but since he had a taste of the ghastly and inhumane gift you had he'd rather be cautious.
"Alright," He said, pinching the bridge of his nose before rolling his eyes and moistening his lips in a surprisingly effusive pout. "No need to be that aggressive eh. Please have a sit." He instructed then, indicating a chair with a brief gesture of the hand.
"I ain't gonna sit. Polly tricked me.” You gritted through your teeth, spiteful at the thought of her betrayal. Your voice echoed through the room like sharp shards of frost falling from a winter sky. "You both knew that I didn't want to be left alone in a room with you anymore and still you schemed this twisted little plan." The cadence of your speech, though measured, carried an Arctic chill that made Tommy shiver. Even with the short distance that separated you, he could almost feel the ice you were made of burning his skin through the many layers of his expensive three-piece suit. In fact, you might be calm but Tommy could still feel the rumble of the storm hidden in that soft and enchanting lilt of yours.
"No one tricked you, and yes, indeed, I knew it. That's why Polly will be here with us. She's coming in any minute. Feel better now? Can you fucking sit?" Your only reply was a mocking snort that was quick to stir anger in Tommy's heart despite the placid expression etched on his face. But no matter how fine and cold the marble he was carved from was, you could see the tumultuous current beneath it. Maybe that was one of the main reasons why he hated you: no matter how hard he tried, you always managed to get under his skin and make him falter.
Silent fell in the hospital room, the two of you staring stonily at each other as you both attempted to decipher the opponent's intentions. "Seriously," Tommy was the first to move, coming nearer despite your warning — part of him did it only to prove to himself that he wasn't afraid of you. As he approached, your sharp sense heard the faint sound of his heart beating slightly quicker than usual and his breath struggling to keep quiet. Closer he came, until he stood only inches away from you, the warmth of his body brushing your skin without even touching it, and the musky scents of his cologne ticking your nostrils. " I meant it you know ay. I meant it when I said we have to end this war between us," You remained motionless, eyes staring at him, "Shut the door on it". In the hushed ambiance of the bedroom, he started to move around you with a gait that mirrored the stealthy elegance of a beast navigating its territory. His steps were a silent predatory waltz, a calculated and deliberate one that could have been dizzying if he wasn't walking around you this slowly, "At least temporarily." The air seemed to ripple with a subtle tension as he circled you like a panther, hiding his fear of you behind an aura of primal confidence, "I'm sure we could both benefit from it, ain't that the truth." You slowly exhaled as he talked, realizing you've been holding your breath for a while.
"What about backing off me and shutting your mouth until Polly comes?" You whispered, your aquamarine eyes carefully following every step he took. Admittedly, there was an undeniable magnetism in the way he moved, almost too smoothly and captivating to be human. In a primal reflex, your lips curled and you showed your pearly teeth. Beneath the shared expanse of your untamed wilderness, a silent battle waged within, as his large and strong hand delicately found rest upon your arm. The skin-to-skin contact sent an unpleasant thrill through your body. Tommy was like a big cat facing another one, testing the waters and carefully studying the line he shouldn't cross for you to snap. All in all, it was a contest whose goal was not to be the first to shy away. His fingers ghosted over your arms, trailing down your skin with an unsettling tenderness. Unwilling to cause another scandal or murder him, you gathered all your willpower not to react even when he leaned above you, looking down at your seraphic traits with curiosity gleaming in his turquoise eyes, "How did it feel when we kissed?" His words, like tempestuous whispers, stirred a sudden symphony of panic and indignation within. "Because you've... Felt."
"I did." You finally admitted, tearing through the silence you've been walling yourself in. All the ice melted in a few seconds, and your face relaxed a little bit. Two hopeful details that ignited both Tommy's gaze and ego -- of course you did, he thought.
"Look at me." His voice turned a bit softer as you slowly raised your gaze to his face.
"Do you really need me to say it out loud, Tom?" As you inched dangerously closer to him, he heard the ambient sounds of the crowded hospital fade into a distant murmur
"I do." The drumming of his heart fastened as a faint smile toyed on your lips. The proximity of your mouth, bewitchingly close yet not quite touching, was killing him. Let alone the brush of your skin under his fingertips and the shared warmth of your breaths mingling in the same intimate airspace. How beautiful you would be together. How fierce. How... Unstoppable. That was all he could think of.
"Disgust." It fell from your mouth with the softness of a chainsaw blade cutting through his guts. Tommy's eyes widened, his ego crashing on the ground and shattering like a broken mirror. He didn't react at first, confused by your harsh words, which contrasted with your angelic smile, "I felt disgusted." You tilted your head to the side, your face turning into winter again, "Now you better move from the way if you don’t want me to crush your lungs."
Tommy was about to back off in terror when he saw you moving your fingers in that peculiar way he was too familiar with.
"Sorry for being late." Polly's voice erupted in the room, saving you from spending another minute alone with Tommy. God blessed her.
"Let me help you with that." He finally said, trying his best to keep his composure at the realization that he would never be able to predict you. Never be able to control nor to own you. His fingers closed on the basket’s handle, right above your reddened wrist, and they lifted it to relieve your frail arm from the pain before he quickly stepped away from you.
"Alright, glad to see the two of you didn't butcher each other in my absence. What a wonderful improvement."
"An improvement that is." Tommy replied, pressing his palms against the table now that he had put the basket on its wooden surface.
" I was talking with the doctor about Michael's health. We have a very short time left: he's almost done with him, and both Ada and Lizzie are coming. Heaven, dear, what about Arthur?" Polly inquired, her black eyes meeting yours.
"He's still in his office at the Shelby factory. But I must admit I thought that it would be only you and me." You stated resentfully.
"I know, love and I'm sorry about it but you wouldn't have come if I told you that Tommy was here." Her cold and sly hand gently squeezed your arm in a gentle gesture, so soft and full of motherly love that you couldn't really blame her anymore. Taking a quick look at the clock on the wall, you sighed and took place on a chair just like Polly did.
"Hurry up. Tell me what's about."
"Ain't going to keep you waiting,” Tom started and went straight to the point, motivated by the desire to see you leave this room as soon as possible, “ I want you to meet Luca Changretta."
"Thomas!" You exclaimed.
"No. You listen to me now," The gangster replied, pointing at you with his index finger, "As you know I've encountered him in the meeting room of the Shelby Company factory. We came to an agreement that stipulates that women and children shouldn't be included in the Vendetta. With that, we can guarantee a certain safety for you, Polly, Ada, Finn, and the kids."
"How... Quaint." You stated, pursing your lips in a bratty pout, "And what's the link between your deal and me potentially meeting the man who wants to see my husband dead?"
"Considering this, one of the women of this family can approach him. The idea was that Polly could meet with him and ask him to spare the family, especially Michael. In return, she would lure me into a specific place and at a specific time so that this bastard can set an ambush and kill me." As Tommy explained the original plan, you side-eyed Polly who nodded at each sentence in an attempt to reassure you.
"The problem is Luca knows the strong bond I have with my nephews. Even if I use the role of the mother ready to do everything to save her son, I fear it won't be enough to convince him. But you..." She left her sentence hanging, Tommy's raspy voice completing it. Shelbys, you swore. Sometimes you wondered if they had some telepathic shit going on between them.
"You despise me as much as Luca does but still bore the name Shelby. You'd be perfect." His gaze almost burnt you.
"Makes sense." You replied, fingers playing nervously with your dress' fabric under the table as you swallowed all the information just heard. Against all odds, his idea was impressively clever — Tommy might have a plethora of flaws but stupidity wasn’t one of them.
"Polly will help you arrange a meeting with him in a club. You talk with him, explain how you do this to save your husband, and if he asks more questions proceed with talking about our relationship." Now that they had finished revealing their plan, Tommy and his aunt were both staring at you, impatiently waiting for your answer.
"Well, I've heard enough." You simply said, getting up from your chair and making your way to the bedroom's door under the two pairs of confused eyes. Once you reached it, you grabbed the handle and watched them from above your shoulder, an amused but sharp grin dancing on your lips. "When Apocalypse comes, it seems like even Thomas Shelby wants the Devil on his team." You teased, entertained by the situation. No matter his neutral demeanor, he needed you. And that was a satisfying feeling. "That's fine with me." Your quick agreement was certainly not something Tommy and Polly expected, judging by the way they looked at you, and then at each other to make sure they heard well. But as illogical as it seemed, the reasons behind your will to get involved in the Vendetta were a matter of course: You were sick of playing the nice and fragile wife who nervously waited for her husband. You didn't come all the way back to Birmingham to be a quiet and patient little thing. You came to make them all shatter and shake at your fingertips. All you wished was to protect your man and show the world that they better fear Arthur Shelby's wife as much as him if it isn't more.
Polly followed on your heels when you opened the door, grabbing your arm and leading you outside.
"The hell you're doing?" You inquired, surprised by her sudden strength.
"One last thing. I need you to keep Arthur busy and to make him come too late for the meeting." The fierce aunt's grip closed a bit firmer around your wrist, making you wince.
"Why that ay? He has every right to attend it. He's the vice president deputy of that company as well as the oldest brother." If there was one thing Polly expected, it was you defending your husband tooth and nail. And yet she had many tricks in her sleeve.
"We don't want him to pull the trigger anymore. It's time for him to delegate and stay out of the battlefield. We didn't climb the social ladder this high to keep dirtying our hands."
Polly's speech made you blink, astonished one could scheme behind a family member's back. "Hey, that's freaking unfair for Art. You have to discuss the matter with him, it's his job we're talking. Ouch!" You whimpered when she squeezed you harder, her eyes begging you to listen.
"Think about the baby! It will need its father! We don't want him in danger any longer so please, please keep him busy just like we, women, know how to do. It's the modern approach, White Devil."
"Modern approach. Of course.”
"Oh, Angel." Arthur said, his gravel voice underlined with a light surprise when he saw you entering his office. He was putting on his long black coat, ready to leave for the family meeting. As soon as his piercing blue eyes landed on your delicate frame he walked towards you, "Why you here? You alright? " He immediately inquired, his protective nature had grown far bigger since you'd joined him in this cursed city. The soft glow of affection shone in your eyes as you looked at him, your glossy and plump lips greeting him with a bestowed smile so sweet and radiant with love that the hurricane of worries in Arthur's skull hushed down.
"Everything's alright!" You hung your coat on a hook.
"Ain't it good news, ay." He cheered despite being in a hurry, before putting his large and rough hands on your forearms with an adorable bluntness so specific to him and rubbing them to warm your skin up, "Well look, lovely to see you but I'm late for a meeting."
"Just five minutes." You asked, coming closer until your breasts flattened against his chest, "Five teeny-tiny minutes, please?" The way your eyebrows raised and your mouth pouted enlightened your angelic face with an irresistible bratty look that never failed to get him on his knees. Arthur quickly moistened his lips while weighing the pros and cons, but it didn't take long for him to make up his mind. Especially when gazing upon that woman-child face of yours.
"Alright, alright." His raspy voice blurted out. Arthur brought his fingers in your hair to slip one of your long white locks behind your ear with an indescribable tenderness. "Needy little thing already missed her husband eh?" He cooed with amusement, his strict facial traits melting as he talked to you, tamed by your presence.
"I did.” You purred with a quick but oh-so-sincere smile, “But I also need to talk to you. Sit, please?” You suggested, the amusement of your tone brightening up his dull day. Joining motion to speech, you gently pushed him back with your two index fingers pressed on his chest. Arthur followed your movements, a bewitched smirk etched on his mouth. Just like your own reflection, each time you took a step forth he took one back until the back of his knees bumped against the desk chair. Enthralled and with lust-dilated pupils, his eyes spoke a love that transcended words. Arthur’s body finally dropped on the chair, and if he was already focused on nothing else but you, the whole universe faded into utter insignificance when you sat on his lap, straddling him. The contact between your two hips ignited a vivid desire within, which spread through his bones like wildfire and got a satisfied “hum” from him.
“What it is ye want to say?” Arthur asked, the hoarseness of his voice carrying a softness no one suspected him to hide. Despite everything you’ve been through lately, including the indescribable disappointment due to his drug relapse, you had allowed your relationship to slowly heal. You had been crystal clear, now the ball was in his court. Arthur was obviously still on trial, well aware that he needed to outperform himself to gain your precious trust back but at least you came home right after John’s funeral, and that was all that mattered.
A very short but comfortable silence floated over the room at his question, your reply taking the form of your fingers losing themselves in his slicked-back hair, massaging his head.
“Are you really in a rush?” Your voice, a delicate dance of enchantment and teasing, wove through the air and left Arthur even more captivated than he already was while you relished on every little adorable of his face — his myriad freckles were surely one of your favorite features of him. Finally, a long exhale escaped from your nostrils. How much you would have loved to stay locked up here with him forever, just you, him, and the baby, far away from this cruel world… “Peu importe ce qui se passe tu sais que je serai toujours à tes côtés, n'est-ce pas?” (translation: No matter what happens you know I'll always stand by your side, don't you?)
"I know." He replied in English. The sensation of your fingertips applying the perfect pressure on his head combined with your haunting French got him definitely wrapped around your finger. The lanky gangster was at the very edge of purring, his eyes half-closed and his piercing and intoxicated iris looking at you through his dark lashes.
As he enjoyed your massage, Arthur made the most of your proximity and let his palms wander on your dainty body, unable to keep them off you. In truth, it was nearly impossible for him not to become all handsy when you were around, no matter the where and the when. His rough hands roamed all over your being, invading every part of you. He was everywhere, softly kneading your small breasts, then trailing down your ribs to finally end his exploration on your hips he seized more firmly, almost bruising them in the process “I must say ya one hell of a cruel witch, love. You come here all hot and bratty.” He cooed, the gravel in his voice rumbling. It was so low, so powerful that it didn’t even sound like a voice but a feeling. His peculiar tone was an inextinguishable fire that enveloped your body, scorched your core, and wrapped your tired mind in a comforting haze. “Makes me feel bad to leave without taking care of ya like a good husband would do, right here on me desk…” You replied with an adorable giggle and Arthur slightly bucked his hips to press himself more against you, just for the sole pleasure of feeling his body colliding with yours. It’s not enough, he thought. It was never enough. There was always too much fabric, too much space, too much of everything between you except when he was buried deep inside of your core, both of you making one as you were meant to be. Another wave of excitement coursed through you, and you had to fight against the irresistible haze he stirred within. Delicate as a feather, you put your two tiny hands on his cheeks and raised his face for your eyes to meet — flaring steel sinking in lethal frost. “But tell me, what's that important hm?”
“First you have to promise me to stay calm. Will you?” You asked, batting your eyelashes like an untamable child about to tell her dad she had just destroyed the expensive family vase. The kind of look that drove Arthur crazy. Sometimes he still found himself astounded by how your face could go from terrifyingly cold to adorably childish. Saying that your words didn’t awaken a bit of worry inside of him would be a lie, but one sole glace at your angelic traits was enough to keep his rage leashed.
“Gonna try me best for ya, hm.” His dark blue irises were enraptured by the movements of your lips each time you spoke — your words were blurring, and his attention was turning into obsession: He missed you. Body, heart, and soul. “Hev…” He sighed in delight as your small hands abandoned his face to strip him from his vest, unbutton his shirt, and then paw at his chest.
“You won’t interrupt?” You mused, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and mouthing against his warm skin. Your thumbs were now tracing circles on his chest, smoothing his hairs.
“Told ya, angel. Your Arthur will try to be a good boy.”
“Well… I went to the hospital to keep company to Polly. I thought we would discuss trivial things but then she asked me to keep you busy.” You finally admitted, “She and Thomas wanted you to miss today’s meeting.” As painful words melt with the delightful sensations of your caresses, the sky in Arthur’s eyes darkened with black and stormy clouds. His body stiffened under yours.
“What the fuck that’s s’posed to mean?” He growled, anger already boiling in his veins like a dangerous geyser about to burst. Fortunately enough, your calming presence helped him contain his violent temper — such was your almost supernatural effect on him. Different and yet so similar, Arthur Shelby was made of destructive fire that burnt the people around him as much as him. And yet, his fire never really intended to hurt: quite the contrary, it sought to stay warm and inviting, like a low fire dancing in a hearth. When it blazed out of control, even he couldn't prevent the damage done. You, on the other hand, were made of water. Just like a dangerously cold ocean, you were terrifying, infinite, and relentless, your calm prone to silent but always deadly tempests. “Why the fuck would they do that?!” He cursed louder this time. Feeling your man’s temper wearing thin, you gave a gentle lick on his neck to snatch his attention from his corrosive emotions. Your flat tongue trailed up his sharp jaw to his earlobe — the wet and hot caress on his skin sent thrills of arousal all over him and allowed his mind to focus on something more pleasant than this cruel betrayal.
“Because they want you to stop pulling the trigger.” You explained as quietly as you could, gently rubbing your cheek against his like a cat looking for both affection and attention. It seemed to do the trick: his face was still distorted with latent rage, the thick vein in his temple pumping, but at least he wasn’t turning the office over with his fists nor was he yelling so, overall, it was still a win. “Modern approach they call it.” You added, using Polly's exact words to the difference that you peppered his lips with small pecs, talking between each pair of smooches to make the pill easier to swallow, “You become a general and Aberama takes care of Changretta… That’s their plan.”
Breathing loudly through his nose, the gangster pressed his lips together until they formed a very thin line, “Modern approach ay?” Anger coiled like a snake amids the hurricane of his resentment, its hiss echoing through Arthur’s skull. “They just wanna take me job away.” He stated, more for himself than anyone else, still digesting the news. “And they want to use ya against me? Bloody pricks.” Overpowered by an immense feeling of injustice, Arthur didn’t realize that he was digging his fingers in your thighs a bit more painfully than intended, but his roughness only fanned the flames of your own wickedness. Your skillful fingers explored him, nails brushing his ribs, then palms caressing his slim abs as if seeking to defuse the ticking bomb he was.
“I wanted to tell you everything because nothing in this fucking world will make me stand against you... I may agree with the idea of keeping you safe from harm but not at the expense of your trust.” You confessed, finally pulling your face from his neck and wrapping him in a relieving hug with your frail arms. If he hadn’t kept his eyes open, he would have sworn that it wasn’t your arms that were surrounding him but two soft and protective feathery wings. His rough hands, which hadn't moved, spread your thighs further to feel your warmth through the thin fabric of your lace thong. Fireworks exploded in you at the hard bulge that was pressing between your legs, making you bite your fleshy lip. Arthur finally let out a long sigh and shook his head, wanting the only thing that could wash away the rage that was eating him up — one of his hands left your flesh only for his fingers to slip between your parted thighs and shift your undergarment to the side.
"C'm'here," He ordered, his breathing increasingly louder and faster.
"Love, you should really go to this meeting." You advised, shivering at the feeling of his long fingers fondling your slit.
"To hell with their meeting, they don't even want me here eh. Need ye right now." With skillful movements, he unzipped his fly and lowered his trousers just enough to free his half-hardened cock and slid it between your sensitive folds, the pleasure and anticipation crashing against you like a rogue wave against the shore. "I feel me bloody mind drift again... And I know I'mma butcher someone if yer lovely lil' cunt doesn't keep me warm." The ghost of a little smirk danced on his lips, mustache lifting on the right side of his mouth when he noticed that his words had the effect he wished for: More of your wetness trickled along his shaft and you had started to grind against him, low key moaning. “I don't fucking know what I'll do without ya..." Without waiting another minute, the gangster lined up with your begging entrance and slowly pushed his swollen tip inside.
"Yes, f-fuck them." You sighed, your nails digging into his back and your legs quivering at the overwhelming feeling of him stretching you. Usually, Arthur wasn't the patient kind and, as it was the case at this very moment, all he wanted to slam his far-too-big cock in you in one forceful thrust to have you whimper and wiggle above him, and yet, he wished to keep it languid for now. It wasn't a rough fuck he wanted, at least for now, but sexual and emotional comfort. The first sweet fantasy that plagued his mind wasn't to cum, but rather to enjoy the blissful and addictive sensation of his thick length opening your throbbing walls inch by inch and filling you entirely.
"There, I know ye can take it all." He gently bumped your cheek with his nose while his smirk turned into a sharp-toothed grin pitching half between the remnant of his anger and satisfaction.
“S’too big…” You stuttered, eyes shut and the telltale of a blush painting across your doll face. With toes curling in your high heels and your arms around his neck, you rolled your eyes in the back of your head as he pushed further. It never seemed to end, and yet it always ended up fitting despite your size difference.
“Bloody Hell, how are ya so tight after years of me ruining ya?" His words were spoken with animal growls — The truth was he had always loved the fact you were too small for him in every sense of the term. Despite the pain, a frail whimper escaped from your mouth, soon accompanied by your legs naturally parting more, instinctively submitting to him and his needs. With a meaner thrust, Arthur had no other choice but to force the way one last time to fill you completely, and when it was finally done, he let out a loud moan at the way your tight walls hugged him. "Shh, shh, that's okay." His strong hands seized your hips stronger to keep you from wiggling and pulling them back in reflex, "A good girl ye are hmm?" You nodded. It was only when his length hit your deepest spot that Arthur stopped, buried inside of you, hard and unmoving, your bodies entirely connected. Another whine escaped from your mouth, a little protesting sound that drove him mad with lust and almost made him forget that his initial desire was just to keep you sitting nice and quiet on his cock. “C’mon love, t’wasnt that hard. Ye should be used to it.” The only reply he got was you rolling your hips to adjust to his size for a comfortable cockwarming session — the most effective thing you had found to tame his wicked tantrums or his adrenaline-fueled passions. The first time had been hell for him, who seemed to be unable not to pound you once he penetrated you — and yet he had learned to love every little thing of it: The intimacy, the constant but manageable pleasure, the cock-drunk and appeased look on your face…
"Missed you, Art'...'" You breathed and hummed, barely rolling your hips but still slightly moving on his cock to enjoy it massaging your velvety walls, "Aren't you angry anymore?" You asked a bit too sheepishly to be true, laying a gentle kiss on his lips.
“Nah, not anymore 'cause yer a nice angel for your husband,” He grabbed your ass firmly, long fingers adorned with cold rings spreading on your cheeks to have a wider grip “Making him find peace between your legs ay?” The stretch had become comfortable by now, and you were both fully enjoying each other, him completely high by your warmth and wetness. “Making him pray God with your holy pussy.”
“God…” You sighed, throwing your head back, feeling perfectly full — maybe a bit too much even though pain blurred with exquisite ecstasy. “B-But think about it, Arthur. What about letting Aberama do the job? We would stay locked up in the house and do nothing but fuck until the whole Vendetta is over and we go back home?” You suggested, flush burning your porcelain cheeks and giving them a rosy color. The melody of your words — along with how good he felt deep inside of you —snatched a low moan from him. Yet, as much as he yearned for your offer, his conscience needed blood.
“Got no choice, love.” His two hands left your body shortly to grab each side of your lace dress and take it out, throwing the garment somewhere in his office to have you exposed and vulnerable while he was still fully dressed. Once naked, he cupped your small breasts and started kneading them with blunt caresses that made you squeal: you were already sensitive due to your hidden pregnancy. “John wants me to do it.”
"Fuck!" You cursed when he moved along with you, your hips dancing together and intensifying the burning arousal that was saturating your senses. Soon, splitting you open and having you moaning on his cock wasn't enough anymore. His arms suddenly wrapped you possessively, pulling your two bodies even closer. So close the cold gold of his cross necklace on your skin sent thrills of pleasure down your spine. "He wouldn't want you to risk your life."
“It was me who shot the old man.” Arthur’s mouth, eager to find yours, crashed against your lips in a kiss so passionate that it took your breath away. One of them rough hands stroked your back in an overwhelming cocktail of caresses and scratches, waltzing on every inch of your skin while the other pinched one of your nipples. A second kiss captured your mouth, his tongue making its way into your parted lips to seek yours, not minding the thin trickle of saliva at the corner of them. “John is dead because of me,” He breathed between two savage kisses, “And I’m gonna make it right.” His voice was merely a low whisper combined with ragged breaths and low, gravelly moans.
"S'that was you want?" You managed to ask, losing your fingers in his hair and your mind in a fog of carnal delight. Forehead pressed against forehead, you reopened your frozen eyes and dived into his, words becoming more and more useless as a tornado of raw emotions and sincerity swirled in the blue of his iris: His need to avenge John was visceral and you understood that his mind wouldn't be able to find rest if he couldn't kill Luca Changretta, hence putting an end to the vicious cycle of vengeance. And you definitely hadn't the heart to deny him this unhealthy yet efficient way of exorcising both his guilt and his baby brother's death. “So be it.” You finally granted, endless love shining in your eyes. After all, if there was something you could understand it was vengeance. Torturing and butchering five men didn’t bring your family back, but the pleasure of watching life slipping away from them had nonetheless helped you put up with that excruciating wound, "But when you’ll kill that bastard put two bullets through his head. One for you, and one for me.” You concluded, shifting your body slightly to take the gun that was on his desk before wrapping his neck with your two arms again. And then the mask of the lamb fell, shattering on the ground and revealing the wolf you were. A wolf that was smiling and moaning, its thumb softly caressing the weapon’s metal.
"I'll do that, little one." A smile beamed on his face as you allowed him to carry on his personal vendetta — or as he felt the sensation of the gun resting against his back, his joy finding a delicious echo in his body. The circular movements of his hips turned into deep and full-length thrusts that had you throwing your head back and chanting his name.
“Mr. Shelby! “
“I’m fookin’ busy!” Arthur’s booming voice roared in the office as he slammed the door right at the man’s face. The access to the room might have been forbidden to him, but the cacophony of savage fucking and the noise of the office’s blinds being shaken left no doubt on what was happening. He finally gave up, well aware that nothing would make his boss come. It was only when he told him that two intruders had been spotted in the factory that Arthur stormed out of the room, disheveled, shirt quickly buttoned u,p and with a hammer in one hand. A bloodbath was coming and since nothing could be done to prevent it, Ben went back to work and tried to ignore the upcoming mess. With a bit of luck, they would manage to put down the rabid beast Arthur Shelby was. Soon after his departure, the white-haired girl left, snuggled up in her white fur coat and walking as elegantly as always, even if she was slightly staggering on her heels after what the gangster did to her.
“Poor girl.” Barney — another worker recently hired — stated, glancing at you as you passed by. “She’s nice. Y’know she brings us treats and pastries sometimes… What a shame that young lady had been forced to elope with this bastard.”
“Poor girl?” Ben replied to his colleague, almost choking. “Forced wedding? You’re really new here, mate. Can’t believe the doll blinded you. Something’s off with her. And forced wedding… All you have to do is pay attention to the way they look at each other and then you’ll understand. And it will frighten you.”
“Ya really talking about sweet lamb Heaven?”
Ben scoffed, “A lamb… When your eyes meet Heaven Shelby’s nobody can’t tell if she wanna braid your hair or eat your heart. Lamb she’s not. Don’t get fooled by the dresses and heels, she’s not playing doll. She only makes violence look better.”
Barney became silent at his friend’s sordid statement, the far away sound of Arthur yelling, bones breaking and agonizing screams resounded in the depths of the factory along with the machines’ roars. Amidst the smells of hot metal, sweat, and paint, lingered the spring-like fragrances of your perfume, which confused him even more.
✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.
✞Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick@kxnnxy @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd
#Arthur Shelby#Arthur Shelby x Reader#Peaky Blinders#Peaky Blinders imagine#Tommy Shelby#Tommy Shelby x reader#Arthur Shelby smut#Arthur Shelby x oc#peaky blinders smut#Paul Anderson#Heaven Shelby#Peaky blinders oc#John Shelby#Polly Gray
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Forbidden Desire (Part Seven)
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)
Warnings: Incest (at this stage accidental), Age Gap, PTSD, Domestic Abuse, Self-Harm, Fluff, Smut
The following day, after you arrived back home late and slept on your sofa, your mother decided to take matters into her own hands. Clearly, you were not going to listen to her and resign from your position at Shelby Company Limited. It was something you had already told her several times that night and she realised again that you were just as stubborn as your father who, unbeknownst to you, was very much alive and familiar to you.
Thus, while you went to work at the gambling den that day, your mother sought out a person who was familiar to her and this person was no other than Polly Grey.
Polly Grey looked after your mother when she was a young teenage girl and ended up in trouble with the authorities for stealing.
Just like the Shelbys back then, your mother was a thief and got involved in minor criminal activities. She got arrested twice and it was Arthur Shelby who threated a police officer on her behalf when he tried to assault her.
Arthur saved her that day and this was how it had all started.
***
“I am here to see Misses Polly Grey” your mother informed Polly’s secretary when she arrived at her office in Birmingham which was located in a much nicer part of town than the gambling den you were working in.
“Do you have an appointment?” the secretary asked but your mother shook her head. Of course she did not have an appointment. In fact, she had not seen Polly since before you were born.
“No, I do not but if you give her my name, I am sure that she will see me” your mother told her and this was exactly what she did. The secretary informed Polly of your mother’s name and, unsurprisingly, Polly called her into her offices right away. She even cancelled one of her other meetings for her, simply to be accommodating for old times’ sake. Polly, of course, was intrigued about what your mother had to say and, yet, nothing would have prepared her for that…that shock…an utter surprise!
***
“I did not expect to see you ever again in this part of the world. You left so suddenly and without a trace” Polly said and your mother was surprised by how well and elegant she looked. She was wealthy and displayed class and maturity, unlike twenty-five years ago when she produced liquor out of her bathroom to make a few quid.
“And I never expected to be back, but here I am, trying to save my daughter from the bad influence of your family” your mother said without any reluctance whatsoever, causing Polly to raise her eyebrows.
“Your daughter is Y/N. I have met her at the gambling den and Thomas, in particular, seems to have taken an interest in her” Polly said almost jokingly before, without asking, pouring your mother a glass of whiskey.
“An interest in her? How?” your mother asked before taking the glass from Polly’s well-manicured hands.
“In the way Thomas takes an interest in anybody. Only he knows. It could be a professional interest or it could be much more than that. I don’t really know. He seems to keep those things from me these days” Polly explained while gesturing for your mother to sit down which, of course, she did in order to be polite.
“He can’t take an interest in her” your mother said nonetheless which, again, caused Polly to chuckle.
“He can’t?” Polly laughed while pouring herself a drink as well. “You would know Thomas well enough to also know that he has no limitations, right? If he likes your daughter then there is nothing I can do about it” Polly then joked before explaining to your mother that the word “can’t” is not part of Tommy’s vocabulary,
“Polly, I am begging you to be reasonable here. I do not want my daughter to be part of this family nor do I want her to be involved with Thomas Shelby in any way whatsoever” your mother said with a less demanding but more desperate tone in her voice.
“She isn’t part of the family. She just part of the business. Despite, she is new and Tommy will get over her within no time, trust me. It is just the way he is these days. I would not think too much of it if I was you” Polly said bluntly.
“Thomas must end her employment and never see her again. I am demanding it! Please! For old times’ sake” your mother said in a begging kind of manner.
“Like I said, Thomas has taken an interest in her for now, so I doubt that he would be amicable to letting her go” polly repeated herself, not knowing why your mother was making such a big deal out of all this. You were grown woman and should be able to decide for yourself as to who you are getting yourself involved with.
“She is not a woman for Thomas Shelby to toy with. There will be consequences if he does” your mother then went on to say, trying to reason with Polly without giving too much away. Although she soon realised that her efforts were futile.
“Being?” Pully asked, intrigued. “Are you going to shoot him?” she then joked and, of course, your mother shook her head.
“No, but Arthur might” she then blurted out, causing Polly to laugh.
“Arthur?” she asked. “And why would he do that?” she wondered.
“Because Y/N is his daughter. Isn’t that obvious to you?” your mother responded almost hysterically, causing Polly’s chin to drop. She knew that there was something about you which intrigued her and made her feel as though she knew you somehow or from somewhere, but she could never really figure out why she had this somewhat strange feeling about you. Now, it all made sense to her and she was shocked.
“I never told anyone until now because I am ashamed of ever having been involved with this family. I was young and naïve when I fell in love with Arthur and I certainly do not want my daughter to become a part of any criminal activities. I am begging you Polly, from mother to mother, get her out of this company” your mother then went on to say before Polly could even digest the news.
“That explains everything. Y/N is a Shelby woman” Polly said. She was stunned and got up from where she was sitting in order to walk around, thinking about what to do next.
“No. She will never be a Shelby woman” your mother blurted out, invading Polly’s thoughts about how to approach these news with both Arthur and Tommy.
“Unfortunatly that is not up to you to decide. It is Y/N’s decision alone. If she wants to be a part of this family, then by all means, she can…” Polly argued while still thinking about it some more. “Of course, Tommy will keep her out of the sport if she is a Shelby and, of course, she will be under the protection of the Peaky Blinders so, really, there is nothing for you to worry about, is there?” Polly then went on to say while grabbing her coat and telling your mother that she had more urgent business to attend to.
She had to find Arthur and she most certainly had to find Tommy before he was to do something stupid.
At the same time…
Just as your mother went to see Polly at her offices at around ten o’clock, you went into work at the gambling den and were greeted by Linda who appeared to be upset by something Lizzie had done.
According to her, it was Lizzie who took the missing money from safe simply to play tricks on you and even Linda herself was outraged by this.
“I can’t believe it. This is so dishonest of her” she said and it took you a while to comprehend what she was saying.
“So, Lizzie took the money and wanted me to take the fall for it? Is that it?” you asked, causing Linda to nod.
“Yes. She thinks that you are seeing Tommy which, I know, is quite outrageous” Linda laughed. “I know you like him, this much is obvious to me, but as if he would be interested in sleeping with someone like you. It’s absurd and I told Lizzie so many times that she had nothing to worry about…” she went on to say, causing you to fume with anger.
“Right. Listen Linda, I am not feeling well today so I will be taking the day off” you said calmly, supressing the anger you felt towards her.
“You will what now?” Linda asked. She was surprised by your audacity to leave her with all the work that had to be done and snapped. “You can’t just leave. I am on my own here” she spat.
“Watch me. I can. I will see you tomorrow” you said as you waived her goodbye whereas, the truth was, that you did not feel unwell at all.
You felt anger towards her, yes, but, after comment, you also suddenly felt an urgent need to continue where you had left off last night when you visited Tommy.
For some reason, Linda’s comment triggered something inside of you and you felt as though you needed to prove something to yourself and this exactly why, for the next two hours, you spent all of your money to buy yourself something nice before, finally, returning to Arrow House to claim what you ought was yours.
To be continued…
Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!
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#Tommy Shelby#thomas shelby#Peaky Blinders#peaky blinder#cillian murphy#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders imagine'#peaky blinders imagine#polly gray#polly grey#Arthur Shelby#cillian murphy fanfic#cillian murphy x you
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Work Wives - Polly Gray x Fem!Reader
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Summary: Polly has a stressfully busy day in the office so you take it upon yourself to make sure she is taken care of.
Warnings: swearing, fingering, eating out, slight hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, etc… not proofread in the slightest.
Word Count: 2k
Taglist: @shslbunnylover @celasteria @bellatrixsbrat
© Do not copy, repost, or modify any of my works.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Today was one of those days.
The days where Polly stayed in the confinements of her office. Glued to her desk. Answering phone call after phone call. Dealing with anyone and everything that was even mildly important to the Shelby's.
You would walk in with her, hand-in-hand, but after that, she would disappear. The only thing you'd hear was her occasional yelling, when she had to deal with imbeciles over the phone, or worse, anyone interrupting her. That was the one thing she hated most. Interruptions.
The one person who could get away with it though, was you. Of course it was you. Only you.
Looking over at the clock, you noticed it was well past lunch time, and Polly had yet to leave her office for even a second. You contemplated waiting until she was done, but you just had to check in on her to make sure she ate.
Pushing yourself from your desk, you quietly saunter over towards her office, of course earning John's attention in the process. And with one stupid dirty comment from him later, he earned himself a smack to the head.
He had walked in on you and Polly once, carelessly not knocking on the door before entering to be met with you sat atop her desk with your shirt discarded on the floor while Polly stood between your legs.
Polly of course shielded your body while frantically screaming at John to get out, leaving him to make a comment every time you walked into Polly's office alone, and you having to smack the nonsense out of him.
After that incident, you told yourself to never get frisky with your wife in the office, but with your everlasting attraction to Polly, it became very hard to keep your hands to yourself.
With a gentle knock to the office door, you were allowed to enter after hearing a muffled 'come in'. Polly knew your knock patterns, the same three knocks you always did with the same amount of gentle force, let her know it was you and to not yell at whoever was disrupting her.
"Pol?" you called to her, voice barely above a whisper as you entered her work space.
Your wife gave you a small smile, and you could not only feel the tension in the room, but see it on her face as she spoke on the phone in an annoyed manner.
Her eyes however, danced across your body as you moved to her desk, which never went unnoticed by you. She was enamored by you. By every bit of you. The love of her life, the light of her life. Always making her day better.
You perched yourself on the edge of her desk, sliding over her lunch that sat untouched, ensuring not to make noise to disturb her call.
Polly gave you a knowing look, sliding herself over so she was sat between your legs as she resumed her monotonous voice to whoever was on the receiving end.
Her free hand rested on your knee, allowing you to slowly feed her the sandwich you had made her. She was grateful for your care, running her thumb soothingly along your knee.
Polly gave you a thankful smile, taking small bites here and there while she talked, quietly letting out a few hums here and there while she enjoyed her meal. After all, she was starving.
Her fingers slowly ran carelessly higher up your leg as she finished, and teasing you by leaving a featherlight trail to your inner thigh. Your gaze met hers, and her eyes were dark, after all, without your knowledge, she could see up your skirt from her angle.
A smirk tugged at her crimson lips, and you had to close your legs on her hand. You were caught the last time she pulled a stunt like this, her pleasuring you on her desk. Besides, you were known to be loud, and she was still on the phone.
"Pol..." you quietly warned, "You know I can't."
The brunette let out a small laugh, not at the anonymous caller, but towards you. Her lover who she was going to have to work with more to be quiet while being touched. She knew this was going to be a conversation for later, and you were looking forward to it.
"Well then, what about me?" She teased, leaning back in her chair with her thin eyebrows raised as she uncrossed her legs. Polly chose her words wisely, not only asking the caller, but mainly asking you.
Her eyes danced with a mischievous glint as you hopped down from her desk, kicking your heels off on your way down, and letting them clatter on the wooden floorboards.
Your fingers danced up her legs, slowly making your way up her long legs until you reached her leather belt. Fingers swiftly, but quietly, unbuckled the thin restraint to slide the leather from her pants.
Polly lifted her ass from the chair, allowing you to pull her pants down to pool at the floor. Your eyes lit up at the visible patch of wetness seeping through her lace undergarments.
"This excited already?" You bit your lip, fingers opening the brunette's legs even wider than they were before. "Whatever shall I do with you?" Your voice was quiet, but telling. You both already knew what you were going to do, but you wanted to hear your lover say it out loud.
"Help me," she stated firmly. Her gaze was fixated on you, not asking, but demanding. You heard the voice continue talking on the other end of the phone and had to hold back a smirk.
Little did they know she was talking to you, telling you to do a nefarious act. Eager fingers roamed up her thin skin-colored tights across her exuberant thighs to reach the lace panties covering her center.
Her devilish smirk only grew in size as she lifted her hips just enough for you to slide the thin fabric down her milky thighs to expose her slick center.
Manicured fingers slid through your hair, urging your head forward to where Polly wanted you most. Her words grew faint as you tuned her out as she talked on the phone, maintaining your entire focus on pleasing your lover.
Your tongue darted out to flick at her swollen clit, Polly's hold on the back of your head being forceful. She was not going to let you move until you finished the job.
You ran your tongue through her folds, humming at the taste of her wetness before latching your lips onto her clit. Your sucking started slowly, working the woman up at a steady pace.
Polly let out a satisfied sigh, dark eyes gazing down at you with lust as your face sat beautifully between her legs. Lewd noises filled the room as you inserted two fingers.
"Fuck—" Polly had to contain her euphoric moans, not wanting anyone to know about your shenanigans.
Your fingers curling against her spongy walls had her hips bucking involuntarily.
"God, you feel so good..." You kissed her now quivering inner thigh. "So tight and wet. All for me." Your fingers picked up their pace and Polly's head fell back, her mouth falling agape as she let out a silent groan.
Your wife had enough confidence in herself to stay quiet, but the way you inserted a third finger past her rosey folds had her slamming the phone back into its place to end the phone call.
She didn't care about the business proposal, she didn't care about the people working tirelessly just outside of her office. She cared about her impending orgasm.
"Such a good girl," she cooed. "Fucking me— so so good." Her nails dug into your scalp, eliciting a vibrating hum against her fluttering pussy that had her juices dripping into the palm of your hand.
"Come for me," you urged. "I know you're close, Pol." You kissed her inner thigh, coaxing your wife through her orgasm that ripped through her entire body.
"F-fuck! Don't stop! Don't you dare stop!" Polly forced your face back to her clit, your lips wrapping around her swollen bud once more, giving her everything she needed to fall apart.
Her walls tighten around your digits, constricting your movements but still allowing you to move freely, keeping your wife full as she rides out her orgasm.
Polly's legs were closing around you threateningly, but you didn't stop. Instead, you sucked her clit harder.
"You little minx," she faintly laughed through her ragged breaths. "Can't get enough can you?" She moved your stray hairs out of your face as she bit her lower lip.
Polly's pain from her overstimulation was only temporary as your fingers slowly slipped from her dripping cunt, only to be replaced with your entire mouth.
She was bittersweet. You lapped up her arousal mixed with her orgasm, darting your tongue out to fill her hole once more.
"Just— yes, like that—" she groaned. "So good.."
Your nose brushed against her clit, eliciting a hiss from your wife at her own sensitivity. You couldn't help but gaze up at her as you ate her out, enjoying the way her eyebrows scrunched together and her mouth falling into the most perfect 'o' shape.
Polly was in a state of euphoria from her previous orgasm, her body still shaking involuntarily as she did her best to remain quiet. And with the way she was always so hardheaded, she ensured only you would hear her satisfied moans.
Polly was insistent yet threatening. Even if they did hear her, they wouldn't dare say a word to her about it.
Legs draped over your back, heels digging a hole through the thin fabric of your shirt. You could feel the shoe digging into your back, but you didn't care. You quite enjoyed it in fact. The way Polly was holding you, ensnaring you, keeping you from moving away.
Her body stilled as she sucked in a large breath of air, before you licked and lapped away at her flowing juices as she came even harder than the first time.
Your chin was a dripping mess, back ached, and your air was restricted by her strong milky thighs that wrapped around you. But with the sight of Polly sweating, panting, and convulsing around you was all worth it.
"Okay— Mm, darling—" She couldn't help but pull your hair to remove your tongue from her puffy lips. You sat back on your heels, shoving your fingers into your mouth to suck off Polly's release before she pulled you up and into her lap.
"You always taste so good..." your thumb swiped at her now messily lipstick covered bottom lip. "I need you to taste me now, please..." You begged your lover, as the ache between your thighs was getting uncomfortable.
Polly gave your lips an enchanting kiss, filled with a fiery passion that always followed with her hands roaming your body to cater to your needs, but instead her movements fell flat as she pulled you from her lap.
"Get me cleaned and dressed and we'll go home to continue this conversation," she smirked. Your lips formed into a pout as you hurriedly did as she said, wanting to get the same satisfaction she did.
"Oh baby, you know we can't do it here," she said, as you finished putting her back together as if nothing happened. "You treated me so good today, and I want to hear you screaming out all of those pretty little moans without anybody listening in."
Your fingers were eager and quick, running them through your hair to straighten it up a bit before Polly pulled you into another fiery kiss, this time pulling away with her teeth dug into your bottom lip.
"Take me home," Was all you needed to say before Polly dragged you dominantly by your hand out of her office and out into the cool air so she could take you home and give you your reward.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
general masterlist | taglist
#helen mccrory#polly gray#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#fanfic#smut#lesbiansmut#wlw smut#oneshot
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Would my Peaky Blinders community enjoy taking part in a community secret Santa? I notice we all pretty follow one another and /or communicate in some ways. We are a chill Fandom for the most part.
How it would work:
On October 1st, I will set up a way for people to submit their names(URL). And set the deadline for October 7th. I will use a generator to set up and match people to others.
Obviously, I am the one dealing with the URLS, so my name won't be in the "bucket". But I will be dealing with the oversight and people can ask me questions. I can even talk to their person without revealing who and what.
You HAVE to be over 18. Ageless blogs cannot join. EMPTY blogs cannot join. You should have some writing on your blog. I'll get to specifics later.
What you would do for your person: write a 1,500 one shot based off what they seem to like. Obviously, if they love intense smut and you are a fluff queen, you shouldn't write things that make you uncomfy. And vice versa. Don't write smut for someone who seems to mostly write fluff. It's a gift 🎁 so, I don't think it's right of anyone to expect any certain thing.
Again, specifics to come later.
All fanfics should be posted no earlier than December 20th and no later than 25th.
Once I know people are actually interested, I will answer questions and make a mass post explaining everything better.
#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders#fanfiction#peaky blinder fanfic#tommy shelby#fanfic#peaky blinders oc#ao3#wattpad#peaky blinders smut#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfiction#john shelby x reader#tommy shelby x y/n#arthur shelby x ofc#arthur shelby#ada shelby#polly gray#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fanfiction#tumblr polls#christmas#holidays#writing#fanfic writer#writblr#fanfictions
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Lovely tutoring by Tommy Shelby Pt. 1
summary | You are forced to marry Finn Shelby because your father owes the Shelby family a lot of money. Your parents' only wish is to have an heir to their small business the year after you marry. But when you are still not pregnant after four months of marriage, Thomas Shelby decides to help you and Finn. And he is shocked to discover that his little brother is not only unable to produce an heir, but also unable to please his innocent wife.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ ONLY!! unprotected sex, creampie, fingering), age gap (reader's age unspecified), kinda hurt/comfort (but like, kind of sexual comfort), slight manipulation/coercion since the reader is very vulnerable and confused at the time, inexperienced reader, praise, slight choking, mildly dubious consent
Last warning under 18 year olds!
You are sitting in the hard chair in front of your desk. You stare out the window. There's still half an hour before your father walks you down the aisle and hands you over to a man you barely know. A man you even fear a little. When you were relatively young, your parents' business wasn't doing very well. Until the Shelby family lent them money and they were able to expand the business. But now they can't pay back the money. Your parents will have to trade you for a debt-free life. You shiver and rub your red eyes. You haven't left your room since you realised you were marrying into this murderous family. Your maid brings you food and something to drink, and you have had a few visits from the dressmaker who made your wedding dress. ‘At least your parents still had money for that!’, the little voice in your head shouts mockingly. The silky fabric of the dress flows down your figure. The fabric is beautiful, but you don't find yourself attractive. You look much too young. Who thought you would make a suitable wife?
And how did your parents get the idea that you could give birth to a child within a year? If you didn't even think you were beautiful, how could a man? Besides, your mother didn't even try to explain to you how a woman gets to be with child. She just brushed you off when you asked, swearing that your future husband would take care of it and that you would soon understand what it meant to become a woman. You were still conscious when your mother knocked on your door. And also when your good-hearted maid walks you to the door of the car and hugs you goodbye. After those last moments of emotional consciousness you felt numb. You stared out the window of your car until you arrived at the church and your father pulled you towards the majestic wooden door. Now everyone was looking at you. You recognised your aunts. And your uncles, and their sons and daughters. You could see your little sister carrying a basket of flowers. You had done all this for her too. You don't look at your husband. And you don't look into his eyes when you're standing right in front of him. You look behind him. At a painting of Maria, mother of Jesus. ‘Please protect me!’, you beg inside your head. You don't notice you and your husband exchanging vows, and you only seem to wake up from this trance when you are sitting in a corner of the pub that belonged to the Shelbys. Your husband was getting drunk with his brothers and your father was enjoying himself too. But you couldn't even get up.
You follow Finn into your own house, which his big brother Thomas has bought for him. It wasn't too hard for you to say goodbye to your parents. But your sister and you cried a lot. Finn staggered and you helped him into your bedroom. You stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. There is a big bed, a wardrobe and a dressing table. Finn is fiddling with his belt. The metal brooches clink against each other. He has already tossed aside his elegant jacket and shirt. You can't help blushing. He is undeniably a handsome man.
“What are you doing? Get undressed and get into bed!”, he slurs.
“What for?”, you ask, confused.
“Well, to get you pregnant, of course. That's what your parents want. Even if I don't want to have one with you. I don't love you at all.”, he staggers again and falls onto the bed. Even though he's drunk and would probably have said a lot of things differently if he hadn't been, his words still stung. Nevertheless, you begin to undress. You put your dress over a chair and lie down in your bed.
“No, you have to take off your undergarments too. Just like me! Don't you know how to fuck?”, he asks in disbelief.
‘Fuck? What's that?’. Unsure, you also take off your nightgown. Why was that nightgown made when it isn’t even needed? You quickly try to cover your nakedness. You are startled when he pushes your legs apart and rubs his member until it is very hard and he moans. Without warning, he penetrates you and you try to get out from under him.
You've never felt pain like this before. It burns as he begins to move inside you. You have to sob when he doesn't stop, even though you beg him to. But it doesn't take long for him to twitch and quickly pull out of you. He moans and pumps his member until a white fluid from it lands on your thigh. You shake and cry. Finn falls exhausted onto the bed beside you and turns to the side. You gently touch your wounded opening. There's blood on your fingers and you have to put a hand over your mouth so that Finn doesn't feel disturbed by your sobs. You slowly pull your nightgown back on and pull the blanket up to your chin. But you're still a long way from sleep. Is this how it feels to become a women? Is this what it's like to get pregnant? Then, you don’t want children at all!
Finn doesn't remember your first night together. And you don't tell him about your bad experience for fear he'll get angry. Almost every night he wants you to undress and perform this act with him. It almost always hurts. But not as much as the first time. And he always moans loudly, as if he likes it. Does he like moving inside you, or does he like hurting you? You can't really imagine. He's actually a very nice person outside the bedroom. Softer than his brothers and quite shy. Sometimes he'll bring you a flower he's bought from a shopkeeper, and thank you when you've cooked. You also get on well with his sister and aunt. And his brother Arthur is always trying to make you laugh. You don't talk to Thomas much, but sometimes he smiles at you. But there was still one thing bothering all of you. You still weren't pregnant. Polly told you almost every morning, and even a doctor could confirm it. Every time Polly mentioned it, Finn would look guilty, as if he knew what was wrong with you.
About four months after your wedding, Thomas asks you to come into his office. You sit bolt upright. Your eyes scan the room anxiously.
“I'd like to talk to you about your condition, darling. Or rather, the state you're not in.”
“Oh, I'm so sorry I'm not pregnant yet. I know it's a requirement for my parents.”
“Don't worry, sweetheart. Finn has as much to do with it as you, right?”
‘Yes’.
“Do you and Finn fuck a lot?”, embarrassed you look down at your hands.
“Almost every night he wants to.”, you mutter.
“And you don't?”
“Not always.”
“Don't you like it?”, you feel the heat in your cheeks. This conversation is very uncomfortable for you.
“No, it just hurts a lot.”
“Mhh, are you always wet enough, sweetheart?”
“Wet enough? Sometimes I bleed. Is that what you mean?”, he groans.
“No, for you to enjoy it, you have to be wet. So my brother's a bit of a handful, eh?
You shrug. You didn't have anything to compare it with.
“Have you ever come before?”
“Come? No, I don't think so. Is it bad if I had come before?”, he laughs out loud.
“But they really didn't tell you anything, did they?”, he touches the bridge of his nose. “Alright, here's what we're going to do. I'm going to help you both. I'm going to talk to Finn after that, and then i'm going to come and see you tonight, and then we'll see what we can get out of him. Alright, love?”, you nod uncertain. ‘How will he be able to help us?’
I'm so sorry it took me so long to upload the first part of this story. But I had to share a room with my little brother for a few days, so I couldn't really write or go on tumblr because I didn't want him to see this (you know what I mean?). Anyway, how are you today? And do you want to see part two? I'm just about to finish it. So let me know if you liked it or if you have any suggestions! Love you, bye!
#Thomas shelby#finn shelby#thomas shelby x fem!reader#thomas shelby smut#finn shelby x fem!reader#finn shelby smut#smut imagine#smut fanfiction#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders smut#arthur shelby#p in v sex#dubious consent#ada shelby#polly gray#peaky fucking blinders#so fucking sexy#gangsters
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Blue Skies- Tommy Shelby
Summary: Sparks fly when a self-sufficient, newly single mother meets the cold-hearted bachelor gangster of Birmingham. On their first outing, it was like everything in the world was asking for them to finally meet each other. But when fate intervenes, they soon find themselves suffering the reprocussions of their own decisions.
Rating: Mature, Minors DNI plz
Warnings: Warnings will be advised on each chapter.
Story Playlist
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18
#peaky blinder fanfic#peakyblinders#tommy shelby#tommyshelbyxreader#tommyshelbyxlizziestark#alfie solomons x reader#lizzie stark#polly shelby#polly gray#arthur shelby#john shelby#esme shelby#grace burgess#one night stand#tw infidelity#x reader#reader insert#eventual smut#emotional hurt/comfort#angst and hurt/comfort#tommy shelby has issues
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"Happy birthday Pol"
Polly Gray x FemReader
Warnings: smut, fluff, jealousy(little)
Summary: It's Polly's birthday, but Thomas had other plans for you. You went to visit Lizzie and waited for Polly to pick you up.
Word count: 1763
A/N: It's my first smut, sorry if It's shitty
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was Polly's birthday. You hoped that you could spend it together, alone in your home. But of course, Thomas had to destroy your plans.
First you had gone to the orphange, to yell at some nuns. Yes, it was important matter, because these children have been beaten, by nuns. Then you went to Charlie's Yard. The boys said happy birthday to Polly, you all had a beer. And Tommy asked Polly to get Aberama out of the hospital. You saaid that you'll go with her right away, because you didn't like the idea of Polly and Aberama together in the car. Alone.
But Thomas said that she has to go on her own and you can go back home or with him, Arthur and Micheal or if you wanted, you could go and meet with Lizzie, who was home. You decided to go visit Lizzie, for peace of mind. Polly also said, that you don't have to worry and that she'll pick you up.
•--------------------------------•
You were sitting with Lizzie drinking whiskey and talking. You had hepled her with some thing to occup your mind.
"Y/N why are you looking out the window every bloody minute. She won't get here quicker." Lizzie laughed, you rolled your eyes ay her comment.
"I know. I'm just worrying because it's getting late and it's fucking November so the roads may be slippery." you said, sighing and looked out the window again.
"And you worry because she's with Aberama." she pointed at you with the hand, in which she was holding a glass. "You don't have to worry, Polly would never cheat on you."
"Lizzie I don't... I am not... Ehh, I just want to go home and spend time with Polly, it's her birthday after all." You took a cigarette out from your tin, lighting it.
When you sat down next to Lizzie, you could hear the front door open, what made you look at Lizzie, who was already looking at you with a smirk. "I think she's here." You didn't have to tell her what you wanted to say at that moment, your eyes were speaking for you 'Shut up'. Frances walked into the room, but before she could say anything, Polly walked right after her.
"Hello Polly." Lizzie greeted her, trying not to laugh.
"Hello, something happend?" she asked, clearly confused by Lizzie's behavior. You got off of the couch and walked to her and kissed her.
"No, everything is fine." You answered her, before Lizzie could say anything, in fact she was laughing now. Frances came back with your coat and handled it to you. You took it from her, mouthing a little 'thank you' putting it on. "Thanks for whiskey and please Lizzie, don't drink more, because it will be me, who will have to deal with Thomas." You grabbed Polly's hand and practically dragged her out of the room.
"I see, you had fun with Lizzie." She chuckled, you both got into the car, Polly was driving.
"Yeah, you can say that. And how was your time with Aberama?" your voice went flat when you mentioned him. She took her eyes off the road for a moment and looked at you smirking. You've never really hided that you're jealous, even when he was around. Family loved to make jokes because of that, but you didn't care about that.
"Do you really want to know, darling?" she teased you.
"Yes, that's why I asked you." You answered with smile, as if she wasn't trying to make you more jealous.
"Alright, so we talked about everything and nothing to be honest and he gave me a rose as a gift, that's all. I think he was grateful that I picked him up from the hospital." You were listening carefully to what she was saying. If she was telling the truth, and you belived her of course, nothing really happened.
"How nice." You said after a few seconds, what made Polly smile. She put her hand on your thigh, like she awlays do when you're sitting in a car.
You were sitting in silence, until Polly's hand started creeping up your thigh, what made you tense up. You looked at Polly and saw that she was already smirking, but she was also concecrated at the road.
"Polly what are you doing?" you tried to sound as normal as possible.
"Nothing." She said, but her hand was telling something else, Polly's hand sliding up on your thigh even higher, what made you close your eyes.
"Polly you are driving."
"Oh. We can change that." She said, still holding her hand on your leg. You opened your eyes to see what she was going to do.
You waited a few minutes for her to do something, but she did nothing, so you started to think that she was just joking. Until she turned onto side road and stopped the car.
"Get in the back, now." She unfastened her seatbelt and got out of the car. Wait, does she really want... here? Right now? You heared the back door open. "Y/N did you hear what I said, get. In. The. Back."
"Pol are you fucking serious? We're in the middle of nowhere." You turned around to look at her.
"Exactly, in the middle of nowhere. I repeat myself once again. Get in the back, fucking now." Okay, she was serious.
You unfastened your seatbelt and got out. She opened the door from the insiede of the car so you could slip in next to her.
"Good girl." Polly said in a seductive tone, you blushed at her comment.
She took her hand to your neck and pulled you to her, bringin your lips together. She kissed you softly. You put your hands on her cheeks when the kiss started to grt more rough. Polly put her hands on your waist and pulled you onto her lap, you straddled her.
Her hands went to the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning it and she backed away to see what she was doing. When she finally undone all the buttons, her lips went to your neck, kissing it and looking for your sweet spot. You tilted your head to the side to give her more room. She started sucking on your pulse point. You let out a loud moan, your hand flew to the back of her head.
Her lips went down to your collarbones, leaving pink marks. After a moment she moved away and started kissing your breast throuh the bra. Breathy moans escaped you and you grabbed her hair harder. She gasped against your chest, making you smirk.
One of her hands left your waist and snaked on your legs, under your skirt, while you tried to unbutton her blouse. You slightly jumped and graped her blouse as her fingers put your underwear to the side and touched your clit, smirking at your reaction.
"Polly" You moaned as she was drawing tight circles on your clit. "Polly please."
"Hmm? What does my little girl want?" She teased you, even though she knew exactly what you wanted, but she wanted to hear it from you.
"Please Polly just..." You took a deep breath trying to form a sentence, your hips trying to grind against her fingers. "Just fuck me, please. Make bloody scream already." You wrapped your hand around her neck, pulling her closer to you, so you could whisper directly in her ear. "Isn't it what you want Pol, to hear me scream your name." A loud moan escaped you, as her fingers slipped into you and started at relentless pace.
"Is that what my girl wanted? Did she miss my fingers, hmm?" The questioning made you grind your hips even faster against her hand, moans elicting from your mouth wirh every curl of her fingers. Your hand went to grab something, when you grabbed the back of the seat, you realized that you were still in the car. Once you opened your lips to say something, Polly directly hit that spot inside of you and only a loud gasp broke out from your lips, holding on her arm for dear life. "Oh my god!"
"Polly, is fine." She smirked, her thumb came in contact with your clit, rubbing cirlces on it, at the same time curling her fingers.One of your hands grabbed her neck and pulled into a kiss to muffle your moans, the other one went down to her breast, squeezing it through her bra. Polly gasped, taking the opportunity, your tongue slipped into her mouth, dominating the kiss for a moment, befor she dominated you.
"l'm gonna- Fuck! Please can I cum? Oh shit." You buried your head beetwen her neck and shoulder as your hips desperately grinded against her fingers.
She didn't answer verbally, she just curled her fingers even more. You bit on the nape of her neck at the feeling. Polly let out a sheaky breath, neverthless her fingers didn't stop, trying to drag out your orgasm as long as she could.
She took her fingers out of you, putting digits to your mouth. You put your lips around her fingers, looking into her, licking them clean. Polly bit her lip, taking fingers out of your mouth and pulling you for another deep kiss. While she was too focused on kissing you, your hand moved from her breast to her thigh under her skirt, sliding up to her center. She let out a suprised gasp, when you slipped your hand into her panties, started rubbing her clit.
"Keep going, darling... you're doing good." She breathed out, grasping your waist as your three fingers entered her, instantly curling inside of her. You started thrusting your fingers into her. She was moving her hisp, matching the moves of your fingers.
Polly grasped the nape of your neck, reconnecting your lips. She was getting tense while you didn't stop curling your fingers.
"Finish honey. I love the way you look when you cum." You whispered against her lips. She dug her nails into the skin of your thigh as your words send her over the edge. She finished muttering curses under her breath. You slid your fingers out of her, rapidly putting them into your mouth and sucking on them.
Once she stabilized her breath, she looked up at you, only to find out you were already staring at her. "What?" She raised one eyebrow.
"Happy birthday Pol." You leaned down to kiss her, which she gladly accepted. She smiled into the kiss, putting her hands around your waist.
"Thank you, darling."
#helen mccrory#polly gray#polly shelby#polly gray x reader#smut#fluff#x reader#fanfic#peaky blinder fanfic#one shot
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Sleepless Nights
Thomas Shelby x Pregnant Wife Reader
Summary: Thomas cares for his wife.
Wordcount: 2.3k
Warnings:
soft Thomas!, kissing, soft talk, lovely husband things.
Thomas prowls the grand corridors of Arrow House with a mixture of determination and unease. The mansion is a labyrinth of opulence, each corner dripping with the wealth he’s fought tooth and nail to secure. Yet, tonight, none of that matters. His mind is solely focused on one thing—finding his pregnant wife.
The house, with its vast rooms and endless hallways, feels both protective and suffocating. The heavy silence is broken only by the distant ticking of an antique clock, a stark reminder of time slipping away. Thomas’s polished shoes echo on the marble floors as he moves through the dimly lit spaces, his keen eyes scanning every shadow and crevice. The opulent decor, a testament to his success, now seems to mock him with its cold grandeur. He enters the library, where shelves upon shelves of leather-bound books line the walls, their spines gleaming in the faint light. The room smells of old paper and cigarette a sanctuary for his restless mind on many nights. But tonight, it offers no solace. He moves on, his pace quickening, his heartbeat mirroring his urgency.
As he strides through the dining hall, the long table stands like an island in the middle of the room, set for a feast that never seems to be eaten. The chandelier above it sparkles, casting prismatic reflections around the room, but Thomas’s eyes are unseeing. He is a man on a mission, driven by an anxiety he rarely allows himself to feel.
Finally, he reaches the living room, a vast space dominated by an enormous fireplace. The flames within flicker and dance, casting a warm, golden glow over the room. And there she is. His wife, his beacon in the storm of his life, sitting on the couch in an awkward yet somehow comfortable position. The sight of her instantly softens his stern expression, though worry still shadows his features. She’s nestled into the corner of the couch, her swollen belly making her position look ungainly to anyone else, but Thomas knows better. He sees the way her hand rests protectively over her stomach, the way her eyes are half-closed in a state of meditative calm. She’s wearing a loose, flowing nightgown that accentuates her maternal glow, the fabric cascading around her like a gentle waterfall.
“Love,” Thomas says softly, his voice a gravelly whisper that cuts through the silence. “Y’alright there?” His thick Birmingham accent adds a rough edge to the tender words, a contrast that defines him so well.
She looks up, her eyes meeting his with a tired but loving gaze. “Tommy,” she replies, a small smile curving her lips. “Just needed a moment. The baby’s been restless tonight.”
Thomas nods, understanding immediately. He crosses the room in a few strides, his presence a mix of power and protectiveness. He sits beside her, the couch dipping slightly under his weight. Gently, he places a hand over hers, feeling the life within her. It’s a moment of connection, grounding him in a way few things can.
“Been lookin’ for you,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of discomfort. “Worried me, y’know.”
She chuckles softly, the sound like music to his ears. “I’m fine, Tommy. Just... needed to be alone for a bit.”
Thomas’s eyes soften further, the hard lines of his face easing as he takes in her serene expression. “Y’should rest more, love. Don’t want you overexertin’ y’self.” His voice is firm yet gentle, the protective husband surfacing through the tough gangster exterior.
She nods, leaning her head back against the couch and closing her eyes. “I know. It’s just... there’s so much to do. So much to prepare for.”
Thomas sighs, his hand moving to gently caress her cheek. “Leave it to me. I’ll handle everythin’. You just focus on our little one, yeah?”
He could see the strain in her eyes, the toll the pregnancy was taking on her. His heart ached for her, wishing he could take away her discomfort. "I wish I could do more," he said softly, his voice tinged with regret.
She smiled again, squeezing his hand. "You're here, Tommy. That's enough."
But it wasn't enough for him. He wanted to do more, to alleviate her pain in any way he could. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that might help. Then she spoke again, her voice hesitant.
“Tommy, Ada said if it gets too heavy, you can lift my belly a bit with your hands. It might help.”
Tommy's brow furrowed as he processed her words. It was a simple gesture, yet one that could provide her with some relief. He looked into her eyes, seeing the vulnerability there, and he knew he had to try. "Alright, love," he said, his voice firm with determination. "Let's give it a go."
He moved closer, positioning himself in front of her. His hands, rough and calloused from years of hard work, gently interlaced under her belly. He could feel the warmth of her skin through the fabric of her dress, the gentle rise and fall of her breath. Slowly, he lifted, supporting the weight of their child. She let out a sigh of relief, her body relaxing into his touch.
"Better?" he asked, his voice soft.
She nodded, her eyes closing once more. "So much better. Thank you, Tommy."
He held her there, his strong arms supporting her, providing the comfort she so desperately needed. In that moment, all the worries and burdens of their world faded away, leaving only the two of them. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to simply be present, to cherish the moment.
"You're incredible, you know that?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Strongest woman I know."
She smiled, a soft blush creeping into her cheeks. "I have to be, married to you."
He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Yeah, I suppose you do." His gaze softened as he looked at her, his eyes reflecting the depth of his feelings. "But I wouldn't change a thing. Not a bloody thing."
They stayed like that for a while, the silence between them comfortable and reassuring. Tommy's thoughts drifted to their future, to the life they were building together. It was a life filled with uncertainty and danger, but it was theirs. And as long as they had each other, he knew they could face anything. Eventually, he shifted, carefully lowering his hands and easing her back into a more comfortable position. He smiles, before cupping her face; his hands calloused from years of work, are surprisingly gentle as they cup her cheeks. He brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her face, tucking them behind her ear with a care that belies his hardened exterior. The feel of her skin under his fingertips is a reminder of all that he has fought for, and all that he stands to lose.
“Love,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble, thick with his Birmingham accent. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” The words are simple, but they carry a weight of sincerity that is unmistakable.
She looks up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of love and fatigue. Pregnancy has been both a blessing and a challenge, but in this moment, with Thomas so close, she feels a sense of peace. He leans in, closing the small distance between them, and presses his lips to hers. The kiss is intense, filled with a passion that speaks volumes of his devotion. It’s not just a kiss; it’s a promise, a silent vow that he will always be there for her.
His hands move from her face to her shoulders, sliding down her arms and resting on her swollen belly. He can feel the life growing inside her, their child, the future of the Shelby legacy. The thought fills him with a fierce protectiveness, a determination to shield them both from the dangers of his world. He pulls back slightly, resting his forehead against hers, his breath mingling with hers in the quiet intimacy of the moment.
“You’ve got to know,” he whispers, his voice husky with emotion, “I’d do anything for you. Anythin’ to keep you safe.” His words are punctuated by the gentle movement of his hands, caressing her belly as if to reassure both her and their child of his unwavering commitment.
Thomas stirred from sleep, his body instantly alert despite the lingering remnants of exhaustion. The warmth of the morning sun filtered through the heavy drapes, casting faint, golden lines across the bed where he lay. His hand reached instinctively to the other side, expecting to feel the familiar form of his wife beside him. The cool, empty sheets met his touch instead, sending a wave of unease through him. He sat up abruptly, the fine sheen of cold sweat on his forehead catching the light. He ran a hand through his dark hair, pushing it back from his face as his sharp blue eyes scanned the room.
The clock on the mantel ticked softly, marking the time as just past nine in the morning. Thomas swung his legs over the edge of the bed, the chill of the wooden floor against his bare feet grounding him. He rose to his full height, stretching out the tension in his muscles. He was dressed only in his boxers, the morning air cool against his skin. The bedroom was silent, save for the sounds that nature produced in the waking hours of the morning.
His mind raced through possibilities as he left the bedroom, each step measured and deliberate. The house was vast, and his wife could be anywhere, but his instinct told him to check the usual places first. The corridor outside their bedroom was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning light. Thomas moved with purpose, his eyes darting to each doorway as he passed. He checked the nursery, but it was empty save for the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window. The sitting room was similarly deserted, the furniture untouched and the air still.
Thomas’s worry deepened with each empty room. He descended the grand staircase, his hand trailing along the polished banister. The ground floor was no different – the study, the drawing room, all empty. He paused at the doorway to the dining room, listening intently. The faintest clink of cutlery reached his ears, a sound so subtle it could easily have been missed. Relief washed over him, but he kept his composure as he moved toward the kitchen, the source of the noise.
The kitchen was a contrast to the rest of the house – warm, filled with the rich aroma of freshly baked bread and other culinary delights. The sight that greeted Thomas made him pause in the doorway. His wife was at the counter, her back to him, completely absorbed in her task. She was preparing her favorite pregnancy craving, a look of contentment on her face as she worked. Her hair was loosely tied back, and she had her loose, flowing nightgown, made of soft, breathable fabric, was adorned with delicate lace and ribbon trims. He had it made especially for her.
A soft chuckle escaped Thomas’s lips, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Hungry, eh? For whatever you're eatin' at what... nine in the mornin'..." His voice was low, the thick Birmingham accent adding a familiar roughness to his words.
She turns to him, a small smile playing on her lips. Her eyes are bright, despite the early hour, and there's a certain glow about her that he finds both endearing and reassuring. "Well... I originally woke up because I had to throw up... but then it wore off and I just sat there for a bit before I actually did throw up..." she explains, her voice trailing off as she takes another bite.
He crosses the room to her, his worry giving way to a tender affection. He reaches out, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his touch gentle and careful. "You alright now?" he asks, his voice softening. "You and the little one?"
She nods, placing the bowl on the counter. "Yes, we're fine. Just one of those mornings."
Thomas wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her close. He can feel the slight swell of her belly against his skin, a constant reminder of the new life growing inside her. "You should've woken me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
She laughs softly, resting her head against his chest. "You need your rest too, Tommy. Besides, it’s nothing I can’t handle."
He holds her for a moment longer, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment. The kitchen, with its warm morning light and the comforting presence of his wife, feels like a sanctuary. A stark contrast to the chaos and violence that often defines his life outside these walls. He pulls back slightly, looking down at her with a mixture of love and concern. "If you need anythin', you come get me. Don’t try to be too strong on your own."
She nods, understanding the depth of his worry. "I will, I promise."
They both stood there looking at each other.
"Any plans for today?" he asks, breaking the comfortable silence.
She looks up at him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "I was thinking of organizing the nursery a bit more. And maybe take a walk in the garden if the weather holds."
He nods, appreciating her simple plans. "Sounds good. I’ve got a meeting later, but I’ll be back by lunch. We can go for that walk together."
She smiles, the idea pleasing her. "I’d like that."
Author’s Notes:
Credit for the smol sparkle divider: CafeKitsune
#cillian murphy#cillian fanfic#cillian fic#cillian x fem!reader#cillian x reader#cillian x y/n#cillian oneshots#cillian series#cillian fluff#cillian smut#cilliangifs#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky fucking blinders#peaky fookin blinders#thomas shelby#thomas x reader#arthur shelby#john shelby#finn shelby#polly gray#micheal gray#ada shelby#inception#robert fischer#the dark knight trilogy#jonathan x reader#dr. crane#fear toxin#fanfic
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The Month of Sin Masterpost
A masterpost for all the works that are related to the requests sent for event “Peaky Blinders Kinktober”.
If you want me to add you in the taglist so that you don’t miss the kinky and steamy stories, please comment or reblog this post. It’s even more important considering how Tumblr tends to mess with us lately.
Thank you again for your participation, you’re the best community ever and I hope I’ll do Justice to your fantasies.
Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @mollybegger-blog @hwangrimi @munson24 @tommyshelbywhore @devotedlyshadowytheorist @stevie75 @brummiereader @triplethreat77 @sebastianstangirl01 @izzy10369 @kimvolturicullen @peakyltd @dreamy-caramel @lanadelreylover010 @anime-lover-forever-1127 @2pacl0ve
Day 1: BREATHE - Breathe With Me (Tommy x Reader)
Day 2: CUT - Cut Your Wings (Alfie x Reader)
Day 3: MARKED - Engraved in The Flesh (Finn x Reader)
Day 4: AFTER CARE with Finn
• with May
Day 5: ROPE BUNNY with Arthur
Day 6: DRUNK with Tommy
Day 7: BLINDFOLD with John
• with Aberama
Day 8: CREAMPIE with John
Day 9: PRAISE with Bonnie
Day 10: SIZE with Alfie
• with Luca
Day 11: POWER with Michael
Day 12: ORAL with Bonnie
Day 13: BREEDING with Alfie
Day 14: BLOOD with Tommy
Day 15: TAMED with Arthur
Day 16: DENIAL with Tommy
Day 17: DADDY with Michael
• with Aberama
• with Alfie
• with Arthur
Day 18: PUBLIC with John
Day 19: THREESOME with Tommy and ??
Day 20: LEASH with Arthur
Day 21: KNIFE with Isaiah
Day 22: STRIP with John
Day 23: OVERSTIMULATION with Tommy
Day 24: CAR with Tommy
Day 25: PUNISHMENT with John
Day 26: WORSHIP with Luca
Day 27: BEGGING with Tommy
Day 28: CORRUPTION with Arthur
Day 29: BLASPHEMY with Arthur
Day 30: AGE GAP - Tangled Desires
#Peaky blinders#peaky blinders imagine#Tommy Shelby#Tommy Shelby x reader#Tommy Shelby smut#Cillian Murphy#arthur Shelby#arthur Shelby x reader#Arthur Shelby smut#John Shelby#John Shelby smut#John Shelby x reader#Ada Shelby#Michael gray#Polly Shelby#Aberama gold#Bonnie gold#Peaky blinders fanfic#Cillian Murphy fanfic#Cillian Murphy smut#Luca Changretta#alfie Solomon’s#Tommy Shelby x oc#arthur Shelby x oc
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La Dolce Vita - Masterlist
Part I - Inferno
Part II - Purgatorio
Part III - Paradiso
Part IV - Beatitudine
#john shelby#john shelby fanfiction#john shelby smut#john shleby x ofc#peaky blinders fanfiction#peaky blinders fanfic#peaky blinders fic#john shelby fanfic#john shelby fic#luca changretta#tommy shelby#polly gray#peaky fucking blinders
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Serendipitia | Thomas Shelby fanfic MOODBOARD
SINOPSE
No período do pós-guerra, Noemi Stein retorna à Birmingham, onde retoma seu elo com Ada Shelby, também sua aliada política no perigoso movimento sufragista. Compartilhando um pequeno sobrado pelas apertadas ruelas de Small Heath, passam a planejar a abertura da primeira livraria da região. Entre ideias eufóricas (e necessidade de dinheiro para financiar o imóvel), Ada leva Noemi a uma grande festividade da família Shelby. É ali que Noemi conhece, pelo encanto dos encontros fortuitos e inesperados,
onde, pelo poder da serendipidade, encontraria aquele que
um amor que nunca estaria escrito nos livros da futura livraria. Er
LEIA NO WATTPAD
MOODBOARD
#thomasshelby#cillianmurphy#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#tommy shelby#thomas shelby fanfic#peaky blinders fanfic#tommy shelby smut#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby fanfiction#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby fanfic#ada shelby#arthur shelby#polly gray#luca changretta#john shelby#shelby family
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Thomas Shelby Hogwarts Professor Short Story
masterlist other chapters
Last Chapter: Fucking in Sin
summary: having problems with your essay, you pay a visit to professor shelby’s office
pairing: professor! thomas shelby x fem student! reader
words: 3.2k
sexual content! and this is my first time writing smut so i apologise
You were lounging around in the common room one evening about a month later besides the warming fire, catching up on Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. You were supposed to write an essay on Chameleon Ghouls but you had so many questions and you were the type of person that couldn’t continue their work unless they had all the answers they needed. Penny and Oliver were scattered across the room scribbling away whilst you were dangling your feet off the sofa.
‘Do you know if Chameleon Ghouls have a timeframe of how long they can stay transformed. Or is it like until they feel like it?’ You asked into the room hoping for an answer in return.
‘No idea, but then again, you always ask questions no one would even think about.’ Penny slid down the wall until she was sprawled out on the floor. ‘I hate this.’ She said. ‘Maybe you should go to Shelby? It’s 9 o’clock but maybe he’ll give you an answer.’
‘I’m afraid I might have to.’ You placed your pen between your lips. Pondering hard if you should go.
‘I’ll go ask the Professor.’ You stood up a minute later. ‘Otherwise I’ll never finish your homework.’
‘Have fun.’ You heard Oliver poke fun at me just as you were about to climb through the portrait hole.
Only a few students were in the halls most likely back to their dormitories as the evening came to an end. On your way to the classroom you saw Percy which ruined your mood, but before you could let out a joke you had arrived at the door.
With shaking hands you grabbed the cold, rusty door handle and slowly swung the door open to reveal Professor Shelby sitting at his wooden desk, grading some papers.
‘What can I do for you?’ Professor Shelby flashed you a smile. Good lord in heaven for I have sinned.
You returned the smile, shutting the door and walked to the front of his desk.
‘Sorry, I know it's rather late to ask questions,’ You admitted. ‘But if I don’t have answers to your questions I find it hard to continue with your work, and I’m having that problem with the essay you gave us, Sir.’
‘If you're having trouble, Miss Granger, you can always come to me— I don't bite." He said, smiling. ‘Nevertheless, it is a little late.’ He placed his quill into the wooden desk. ‘However I’ll make an exception tonight. Just this once, after tonight I’d prefer it if you showed up before.’
‘Of course, Sir. I’m sorry.’
He awaited your next words as you stood in front of him, feet rolling up and down.
‘Ehm, in the book I found nothing on the transformation of the Chameleon Ghouls.’ You placed the book you’d brought with you on the table. ‘When they transform, do they stay like that until they want to or is it limited?’ You lifted your head to look at him.
Professor Shelby continued to listen to your questions and helped you get your answers to all of them. It was nice having a teacher that dedicated his time to his student and actually wanted to help. Unlike Professor Snape who couldn’t give a shit less.
‘By the way Miss Granger, I’d advise you to not give me ‘fuck-me’ eyes during class.’ He nodded. ‘It’s a bit of a distraction to everyone else.’
Your eyes felt like they had popped out of your eye sockets. Your grip tightened around your book not knowing what to do. You were about to leave but it felt like someone was playing around with you like a marionette doll.
He looked at you with lust in his eyes, jaw clenched, inches away from you, nostrils picking up the scent of his cologne.
Seconds later the gap was closed. His hands cupped your face as his lips crashed into yours, lips plump and smooth against your own. Shelby’s arms found themselves to your back, pulling you closer than was possible—you wanted to be closer to him.
Your hands had found his hair that you had secretly been dreaming of tugging on since the moment you saw him in Diagon Alley.
You parted your lips, urging him to open his, moaning into his mouth. Dragging his lips against your cheek up to your ear, his hand found your face, his thumb pulling down your bottom lip.
‘And for the eye-fucking, Miss Granger,’
Your eyes found his; chest rising and falling heavily waiting for him to finish his sentence.
‘I’m just as guilty of that.’ Professor Shelby smirked, pulling you in for one more heated kiss before he pulled away. His breath sent shivers down your spine, raising goosebumps on every available patch of skin that was naked to the open.
Suddenly you felt two fingers mark their touch at your ear, tracing down to your chest.Your nipples poked through the light fabric, earning a chuckle.
‘You’ve been wanting this haven’t you,’ Professor Shelby muttered. ‘So so eager for me to touch you.’
Your breathing hitched. You couldn’t believe what was happening.
Was this truly your reality? Was this actually happening? Were you about to sleep with your Professor?
Professor Shelby stood in front of you again, raising his hand to your head, softly caressing your cheeks. ‘God, you’re so beautiful.’ His thumb inched over your lips, softly touching them. His stare was intense. You knew what he wanted. It was as if a hunter was looking at its prey.
You looked up through your eyelashes to catch a glimpse of his face. Looking up, his thumb pulled down your bottom lip. Your hands were clamped to your side, too awkward to move.
He pushed his thumb into your mouth, slightly catching you off guard.
‘Suck.’
Harsh words left his pursed lips.
Parting your lips, you started to suck on his digit like he ordered. Curious to see his reaction, you stared into his eyes, immediately knowing he was enjoying this view.
‘I didn’t know you were such a horny little thing, let alone for me.’ He finally snickered, pulling his finger out.
‘Do you want this?’ He raised an eyebrow at you. ‘I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.’
‘I—I want this.’ You breathed heavily.
Professor Shelby cupped your face and forcefully kissed you again. Your arms found their way to his neck, to make sure you wouldn’t fall from the force he was impacting you with. His arms were around your lower back, pulling you towards his body.
Suddenly he broke the kiss and stared down at you before muttering a cold, ‘Undress.’ And you did;
You pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your bare chest before you took off your jeans and underwear.
‘God, you are so beautiful.’ He stepped towards you, lowering his head to your chest. Shivers went down your spine when Professor Shelby’s tongue made contact with your hard nipple, gently blowing onto it. His tongue glided on the outskirts of your areola. His right hand found its way to your other breast, massaging it thoroughly and pinching your hardened nipple from time to time. You hissed at the pleasure you were receiving, not ever having experienced anything like this. His teeth found their way to your nipple gently nibbling, before playing with it again.
A moan escaped your mouth making him stop. You could feel your cheeks glow red from embarrassment.
‘You like this don’t you?’
You nodded.
‘You like the way I touch you?’
You nodded again, feeling his hand make its way down to your cunt.
‘Can I?’ He asked for approval, not sure if you really wanted this.
‘Yes.’ You breathed out.
His finger went along your slit, earning a twitch from your body, that was very touch deprived. He parted your lips with his index and middle finger and started to explore your already wet pussy.
‘We haven’t even started and you're soaked? Just for me,’ he chuckled. ‘Are you wet for me?’
You closed your eyes and turned to the side, not being able to answer him.
‘Hey…,’ he softly said, turning your head back to him. ‘Answer my question.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, what?’
‘Yes, I am wet for you.’
‘That’s it. You’re this wet only for me.’ He pushed his fingers inside of me, making you arch your back.
‘Does this feel good? Do you like your fingers inside of your wet cunt.’ Professor Shelby mumbled into your stomach.
‘Yes, yes it feels s-so good.’ You moaned.
His lips kept him busy at your neck and collar, leaving dark marks. He began to pump his fingers out of you slowly, too slow for your liking. Your hands grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin, asking for more.
‘Not satisfied darling?’ He cocked at you in a way like never before. But you could only think of the pleasure you were receiving, and whimpered out a no. You barely had time to take another breath before he picked you up, sat you on his desk, and attached his mouth to your aching cunt.
‘Fuck!’ You yelled out, grabbing a fistful of his dark hair. A deep moan escaped his lips, sending vibrations through your body. He added another finger going even faster than his previous pace, curling his fingers, hitting your spot perfectly, making you lose it.
He continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, making you cry out in euphoria. With every forceful hit you felt your orgasm draw nearer and nearer. It felt like a knot inside of your stomach was going to explode any second and Professor Shelby noticed this.
Just before you could release your screams, he pulled out his digits and grinned. But before you could argue with him, he re-attached his mouth to your clit and started to swirl his tongue in every direction possible, gathering more moans that left your lips.
This was a feeling you had never experienced before. Your hands were grasping his hair, whilst your toes were crinkling and your back was arched.
‘Please make me cum,’ You whimpered out desperately.
Professor Shelby’s hand shot up and grabbed your neck, forcing you to look at him. He put slightpressure onto your throat. The second he held your jaw you shut up. It wasn’t uncomfortable. You like it.
‘What did you just say to me?’
‘Can you please make me cum.’
‘From the moment you let me touch that wet little cunt of yours, you were mine. My girl. So I get to decide when you cum. Understood?’ He growled.
He was anything but a nice teacher in private. He was like a beast, but you liked this side of him, you couldn’t lie.
You nodded, signaling you understood.
‘Speak up when I ask you a question, darling.’ He got up on his feet and towered over you, dark eyes staring into your soul.
‘Yes Professor, I understand.’
Taking a huge gulp, you watched him take off his pants and jumper. His chest swelled with air as he trailed his finger down to the base of his cock, twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, trying to get as much oxygen into your lungs as I you watched him come towards you. His hand stroked over his hardened shaft, collecting a small speck of pre cum.
‘On your knees.’ He commanded, and like a well trained dog you obliged. He grabbed your jaw, thumb gently rubbing over your lips. You were at eye level with his cock and he was bigger than expected.
‘There we go.’
‘Do you want this?’ He asked.
‘Yes’ You answered very quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up.
‘What did I just say?’
‘Yes, Professor, I want your cock.’ You corrected yourself.
Growling, he pushed the head of the shaft past your lips, hitting the back of your throat. Professor Shelby tangled his fingers into your messy hair, eager to push in deeper. You swallowed around his throbbing member, earning a huffed moan.
‘You like that don’t you,’ he thrusted in and out of your aching mouth. ‘You like the feeling of my cock down your throat.’
You nodded, not being able to speak, but he didn’t like your non verbal communication. He pulled out his cock giving you time to breathe.
‘I said, don’t you?’
‘Yes Professor, yes! I love being used for your cock.’ You gasped out for air, before he slid back inside of you.
You pressed your tongue against his shaft trying to satisfy him. Your cunt was throbbing with lust. After dreaming of Professor Shelby for longer than you should have, you were now taking his cock in what felt like every hole.
‘So, so eager for me, aren’t you?’ He groaned.
His hands found their way to your hair, pulling your head back, allowing him further access to your throat. A mixture of tears, saliva and cum were streaming down your face, but he didn’t seem to mind, deep groans continuing to escape his deep-pink lips.
‘Such a nasty whore. Look at you. Pathetic.’ He glanced down, staring into your eyes. ‘You look so good taking your cock. Maybe this will teach you to not give your professor fuck-me-eyes.’
A pool of cum was now dripping below you. You couldn’t help it, you was so turned on. You needed him. Before you could register, your head was yanked up by your hair.
‘Look at me,’
Your eyes shot up and stared into his.
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ He moaned loudly before releasing into your mouth, slowly pulling his cock out of your aching mouth.
‘Swallow like the good little girl you are.’ Professor Shelby ordered.
You swallowed his load, which tasted bitter and sweet, with a hint of saltiness. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, showing him that you obeyed.
‘What a good little fuck toy you are.’ He smirked at you before ordering you to lay back on the desk.
‘Do you deserve to cum?’ He asked
‘Please Professor, please let me cum.’ You begged him, ‘I need to cum.’
Professor Shelby laughed, tracing his fingers along his cock. ‘And what will you do if I let you cum?’ He snickered, clearly finding the sight of you amusing.
‘Anything!’ You cried out, realising how bad you needed him.
‘So desperate for me.’ He trailed on. ‘Lets see if I can make an excuse.’
He climbed on top of you and moved to your neck where he started placing wet, sloppy kisses below your earlobe. His tongue drew down to your stomach.
You were speechless. Beginning to become annoyed you breathed out, ‘Just make me cum!’
Immediately regretting your words, your eyes shot wide as he stopped and retrieved his head from your stomach.
‘Watch that filthy little mouth of yours or do I have to fuck it again.’ His thumb swiped over your lips, his bright blue eyes coming in closer. Despite him saying all those dirty words they were spoken more softly than someone would think if you retold this story. It felt nice…good.
Thomas’ lips brushed against yours, soft, yet rough, like you were the air he breathed. You could only focus on how soft he felt against your mouth, how addictively he invaded all your senses. He kissed you long enough that he could inhale your breath, feel the warmth of your skin, and the taste of your chapstick that would linger far after you had gone. His lips were soft like butter and his tongue as wet as the pool that started to grow between your legs.
‘Now tell me, what do you want me to do?’ He pulled away from you, watching your eyes trail to his cock.
‘I want you to fuck me.’, You said, not being able to withstand it anymore. ‘I need you.’
‘Of course you want me to, darling.’ He pumped his shaft faster, groaning.
Professor Shelby brushed the tip of his cock against your opening, teasing you. You wanted to roll your eyes and swear at him, but you couldn’t. Instead you bucked your hips forward, trying to give him a better reach.
He grinned, placing his knee between your legs, before thrusting into your core, making you yelp out.
‘Fuck!’ You shakily whispered. That one thrust was able to stretch out your wet cunt.
Your face was held in his hand, making you look at him again.
‘God.’ He whispered. ‘Your moans are the prettiest sounds I have ever heard.’
You moaned in response. He felt too good.
‘All I can think about in class is you. Everything you do drives me crazy.’ He continued to pump in and out of you, moans muffling into his chest. The room filled with the loud slaps of your bodies colliding. ‘Every second you’re not near me I feel myself craving for you’
You grabbed him bis his face and pulled him in for another kiss.
‘You’re so fucking tight.’ He grunted into your neck, his hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin. ‘It’s like you were made to make your cock. Look at you, taking your cock like the good little girl you are.’
Those words felt like fireworks started exploding inside of you.
‘Come on.’ He slapped against your skin. ‘Come.’
You cried out in ecstasy, as he pulled you into a climax, sending your body over the edge. He kept on thrusting, overstimulating you, until moments later, he reached his high as well, and filled you up with his cum.
Professor Shelby slid his cock out of you and stared down at the sight of you.
Panting, you laid on the desk not being able to move.
‘Such a good girl.’ He said, as he slid two fingers up your throbbing cunt, collecting your juices. ‘Taste yourself.’
As he commanded, you opened your mouth, letting the fingers slide into your mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits, sucking off all your cum.
‘Such a pretty girl.’
He pulled away from your exhausted body and walked around the desk.
There you were, laying on his desk. Broken and bruised, just like he wanted. You would lie if this didn’t make you realise your feelings for the Professor.
He walked back in front of you holding a small wet towel. ‘Can you sit up?’ He asked deep and soft.
You placed your hands beside your lower back and tried to prop yourself up but your body was a little too weak.
Professor Shelby noticed and placed one of his hands behind your back and brought you to the edge of the desk.
He took the towel and started to clean around your mouth, collecting a mixture of cum and blood. You held your breath not knowing how to react and because of the stinging pain he had caused. Professor Shelby brought the fabric down to your chest and cunt, wiping up all the excess liquids. Once he was done he grabbed your clothes off the floor and told you to get dressed.
‘It’s late, Miss Granger.’ He said looking at the clock. ‘Be careful on your way back. It’s past 10.’
You nodded quickly gathering your things and walking towards the exit.
‘Good night, Professor.’
‘Until next time.’ Professor Shelby said nonchalantly.
Next time.
You nodded, giving him one last smile before stepping into the hallway. You thought about the experience you just had with him. Your body was certainly sensing it. The man that eye-fucked you at the store turned out to be your teacher, and fucked you he definitely did.
BONUS SCENCE
‘Now, since I’m no longer your teacher, I feel no guilt whatsoever for you to know that I love you more than I ever loved anyone. And I will always love you.’ Thomas’ hand cupped your face, his eyes reflecting his heart’s desire. ‘We will no longer hide. I want to be seen with you. I want to kiss you whenever I want to. Hold your hand whilst we walk through the streets.’
‘I love you,’ you leaned into his shoulder, your grip on his hand growing tighter. ‘I’ll love you until my last breath.’
‘Good,’ he smiled down at you. ‘Because I don’t plan to stop loving you until I cease to exist.’
#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinder imagine#period drama#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby headcanon#tommy shelby blurb#tommy shelby fluff#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby imagines#michael gray#tommy shelby angst#tommy shelby smut#john shelby#tommy shelby blurbs#arthur shelby#tommy shelby headcanons#tommy shelby x y/n#polly gray#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby x you#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby fanfic#thomas shelby fluff#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby angst#peaky blinders x hogwarts#thomas shelby headcanon
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Brotherly
Pairings: Shelby Brothers x reader
Warnings: based on season 5, no canon events, there's no violence in this only bc idk how to write that properly
Request: I would love something with Finn and his brothers like Finn gets hurt and they all get protective ( John still alive ) thank you xx
A/N: ahhh first time writing Peaky Blinders!! this is around 1.4k words
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We weren’t doing anything, just leaned up against a brick wall talking it up. Just Finn, Isaiah, and I. Normal things that we do when we’re not doing shit for Tommy.
That’s when it hit. Brick flying everywhere, dust sticking to our hair and skin. Ours ears ringing. The bright cloudy sky immediately turning dark as my body collapsed.
I look up from the ground where I laid, the building we were leaning against was blown up. My lungs burned as I got up to my hands and knees, my body tingling. I blinked my eyes up at the bright sky.
“Get up! Get up!” I heard muffled.
“Get up!” Isaiah yelled as he pulled me up by my arms, dragging me to the other side of the road.
He sat me down on the floor, holding my shoulders trying to see if I was injured.
"Does anything hurt?" he asked, but my ears were still ringing.
Isaiah did a quick scan of my body, checking my back, my arms, my legs, and more. My mind was running 1000 miles per second, until it wasn't. I had quickly snapped out of it as I was replaying the scene in my mind.
“Where’s Finn?” I was able to say with a coarse throat.
“I-I don’t know.” he looked back at the scene trying to scan the area.
“Did you look for him, Isaiah?” I look up at his face, seeing that he was also covered in stone. He has a gash on his forehead and chin, bleeding down his neck.
“Shit, you’re hurt.” I stood up from the ground, starting to assess his injuries.
“It’s just cuts.” He lowered my hands away from his face. “I don’t know where Finn is.”
Concern was flowing out of him through his tense shoulders and watery eyes.
“Fuck. Okay, go to Tommy. Come back.” I moved past him to look through the rubble as he ran to get Tommy.
“Finn!” I yelled out, standing at the edge of the broken bricks.
I scan the area to see if I can see him. Nothing. Nothing but bricks and wood.
I began to think that he’s dead, wondering what the fuck i’m going to tell the Shelby’s. Started to think about the hell that will be raised if Finn is not found alive.
“There’s a body here!” a elder lady yelled frantically, her weak hands trembled as she began to pull away bricks.
I quickly ran towards her and began pulling the bricks off, revealing a unconscious Finn. His body limp as I couldn’t tell if his chest rose and fell.
“Water! I need water and a towel!”
The lady immediately ran into her home to grab the things I need: water, towels, and vodka. I didn’t even have to ask.
The other civilians watching from afar, gossiping and pointing.
"What the fuck are you all looking at? None of you fucking helped!" I screamed out as I was revealing more and more of his body with each brick taken away.
She handed me the water and towel. I poured the water over him to clean his face, not wanting him to inhale more dust.
I noticed a deep cut on the side of his head, which can even mean brain damage. At this point, I won’t know until he wakes up.
“Where the fuck is he?” I heard a familiar voice yell out into the streets.
“Tommy!” I yelled over my shoulder as I continued to clean up his younger brother.
Tommy, Arthur, and John jogged up towards me with Isaiah following behind.
“Everyone back to your homes!” Arthur advised, everyone obeying quickly.
The streets were quiet with the civilians watching through their windows.
“Fuck, Finn.” Tommy crouched down near me as he rubbed his own face.
"What happened?" Tommy's nose flared.
“I- I don’t know what happened. We didn't do anything." My hands were shaking as I was tending to his younger brother.
Tommy's face was emotionless, it sent more chills around my body. I didn't know what he was thinking about, what he was going to do.
"W- We were just talking a-and then I woke up on the street. Right Isaiah?” I looked up at him as he shared the same hectic look as me.
“You two are fine. Make sure Finn is too.” John spoke up as the two older brothers began to assess the scene.
“Okay, I have to pour Vodka to prevent the wounds from contracting infection.” my face winced at the thought of the feeling.
Isaiah held Finn’s shoulders as I began to pour the alcohol onto the large gash on his head.
A loud and excruciating scream ripped out of Finn’s throat. His body jumping off the ground, legs flying up in the air but thankfully Isaiah held him down.
The brothers quickly ran over from the sound of the scream. Tommy’s face showed how he wanted to calculate and execute this as safely as possible.
“Take him to your house.” Tommy ordered.
“My house?” I yelled out in confusion.
“Your house. Let’s go!” The two other brothers carried Finn to the back of their car with me tending to him while Tommy ordered Isaiah and the others.
The drive was fast, soon enough we were rushing into my family’s kitchen and swiping cups off of our dining table.
“What in God’s name?” my mother yelled as she ran down the stairs from all the ruckus.
“Finn is hurt.” I reassured her.
She immediately grabbed her medical bag from the counter, opening it up to reveal all her tools.
Finn was groaning on the table as she examined his cuts, the adrenaline getting to him.
His eyes blown wide and shaky, his hands trembling.
“You’re in good hands.” I cooed as I cleaned his wounds better for my mother.
“Who did this?” Tommy asked as he leaned against the counter, smoking.
“I don’t know, but I think you guys do.” I looked at him as I crossed my arms.
He silently nodded his head, knowing who he’s pissed off recently.
"The fucking Billy Boys." Arthur mumbled.
"We'll get them for you Finn!" John yelled with a cheer and a smile. "We'll fucking get them!"
Arthur and John is already following behind Tommy as he stormed back into their car, handgun and steering wheel both gripped in his hand.
I didn't know where they were going, but I knew that at least one man was going to die. God knows that it wasn't any of the Shelby boys. Polly made sure God was on her side.
Finn seemed like he was going into shock with the way his jaw clenched and his eyes shaky. I'm holding him down as my mother picks away debris from the open flesh on his head.
"Are you hurt?" My mother whispered as she kept a steady hand.
"I don't think so." I said but got a stern look from her. "No. No, I'm not hurt."
She quickly nodded and went back to tending to Finn.
"You shouldn't h- you shouldn't have been there." Finn was able to speak out through his clenched teeth.
"I'm a Peaky Blinder." I shook my head side to side as I threaded the needle for my mother.
She scoffed from the side. We all knew that's how my father died, being a Blinder. She didn't want me to follow behind him.
"This is going to hurt." she told Finn as she waved the needle in front of his eyes.
I grabbed a kitchen rag and stuffed it between his jaws, hooping that it will muffle his screams.
My mom and I nodded to each other as I held Finns arms down.
The sharp metal pierced his skin over and over, his groans and screams barely muffled by the piece of cloth I lended.
It was quickly over. We splashed some vodka on it and even gave the bottle to Finn so he can nurse it. We bandaged him up and check for any other injuries on him.
Finn rested on the couch, his body tired from the amount of adrenaline that rushed through him.
While my mother and I was cleaning up, the Shelby brothers strutted through our front door.
There the three were, covered in blood but none of them hurt. It truly was a miracle every time.
"He's all patched up." My mother spoke up, eyeing the floor and her furniture to see if they've made any stains.
"Thank you." Tommy reached into his pocket, taking out a large wad of cash and handing it to me.
"Oh no, I cannot accept." I pushed his hand away.
"You put Finn first even when you were in the accident too." he held out the money again.
"For God's sake." My mother walked her way over in front of me. "I accept."
She took the money with a smile and went back to cleaning.
"What'd you all do?" Finn groaned out as he slowly walked from the living room to the kitchen where we all stood.
"Left a little message for Jimmy McCavern." Arthur chuckled out as he held out a bullet to Finn.
Finn was too weak to grab it, so he nodded for me to get it for him. I spun the bullet in my palm, examining each and every crevice.
"McCavern." I whispered out as my thumb slid over the engraving.
"Do I get the shot?" Finns eyes shot up to Tommy.
Tommy silently nodded with the side of his mouth slightly curled up.
"You get to shoot him in between his fucking eyes." John said nonchalantly.
#gxdsfavgals masterlist#cmac</3#peaky blinders#tommy shelby#arthur shelby#john shelby#finn shelby#polly shelby#polly gray#michael gray#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders smut#peaky blinders fluff#peaky blinders angst
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Blue Skies- Tommy Shelby
Chapter 3: ‘Deadly Kiss’
Warnings in this chapter: smut (minors DNI), hints of infidelity (again), drunk sex etc. etc. etc.
Masterlist
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After your soiree, Thomas wasted no time in taking you back to his home.
Between the drunken laughter and heated kisses in his car, you barely noticed just how large the mansion was. You held onto him as you carefully walked through the pathway of stones, making sure not to trip or stumble in your heels. The lights illuminated the walkway as he led you inside. The inside was just as lavished as the outside, it took your breath away. You've never been inside of a house this big. 'Did he really live here all alone?' You wondered. The front door closed with an echo behind you. The entrance completely enthralled you, so much that you nearly jumped out of your skin as Thomas came up behind you and used his fingers to peel your coat off your shoulders, sending chills up your spine. You turn your head to the side, one of your hands reaches up to touch his cheek. One of his hands laid on your hip as the other slowly laced his fingers with yours. Moving your hand away from his face to bring your knuckles up to his soft lips. You turn your body to him as his hand holds your chin and the other holds your waist, slowly going lower and lower down your back. Planting heated kisses on your lips, a sense of wanting in his motions. A heavy pleasurable sigh escaped your lips as you pulled away from him.
"Take me," you whispered in his ear. Thomas' eyes roll as a heavy exhale escapes his lips.
Thomas Shelby wasn't one to disagree with a woman's request.
In a blur, you were in his bedroom. He quickly shuts the door behind him as he hungrily kisses you, pushing you against the door. You chuckled into the kiss as you helped him strip off his grey suit jacket and throw it to the floor as if it were a common shirt. His lips crashed against your own again, his tongue slipped past your lips as you moaned. Teeth biting on his bottom lip as you pushed yourself off of the door. He began slowly walking back towards the bed, each taking your time in shedding your clothing.
You wore nothing but your slip and stockings. The silky fabric was a pretty blush pink color as the stockings were decorated with lace at the top, clipped onto the nude colored garters. He began to feverishly unbutton his shirt, as many buttons as he could without stumbling to not keep you waiting. With your legs wrapped around him, you laid under him, your drunken gaze and lustful eyes stare up at him with half-lids, pure indication that you wanted him, your eyes drinking up his figure even more now.
He hurried to pull his half buttoned shirt over his head as your hands ran up his body and around his neck to pull him down to your level and into another heated kiss. His large calloused hands pull the slip over your head, tossing it to the side as his hand pins yours above your head. Ever so slightly tugging him closer with the motion of your knees.
"Thomas, please," you beg in a sultry moan. The way the lace hugged your breasts and curves, the way your garters held up your stockings and squeezed your thighs sent him in an obedient frenzy. He wanted nothing more than to rip that lace lingerie right off of your body and ravage you, taking you and experiencing pure, hot bliss together. He slipped his slacks off, leaving him in his white boxer shorts. The V-line cuts into his pelvis deliciously, causing you to stick out your tongue and quickly lick your lip.
For a second or two you stared at each other. His icy blue eyes pierced through you with arousal and then, when the seconds passed, he slid between your thighs, using his fingers to slip the lace to the side. Staring intently at you as he slowly slid his length in. Painfully slow, so slow it took your breath away. And every thought and doubt you had, already left your mind.
A moan echoed within the quiet room. He moved, thrusting once slowly, then again and again picking up his pace as he rocked his hips into yours until you were a crying, moaning mess. His cock was filling you deep as his tongue danced with yours to the rhythm of your bodies.
You knew it deep down you weren't going to remember these events in the morning. The amount of whiskey you both had was hitting you hard at that very moment, but the consequences seemed like a thing your future self needed to worry about since your current self was pressed against the soft sheets of the bed. His strong arms keep him up and hovering above you. You were used to being pinned down in the bedroom but not like this. This was different. You reminded yourself that he was insanely drunk and the look he was giving you was nothing more than lust. Your mind buzzed as you fell in love with every bit of this moment. It was something you never expected you needed in your life, to have your control taken away from you in the most sensual way. In fact, you were obsessed with the idea that you felt the familiar hot feeling already approaching, pooling in the middle of your stomach. He momentarily pulled away from you, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and groan.
"Ah, fuck…Thomas I-"
"Cum for me love, go ahead," His deep voice cut you off with a whisper in your ear. His voice alone was your downfall as your muscles clenched around him tightly. Milking his cock as you fought your release for as long as you could. He groaned in your neck, using every last bit of energy he had left to pump into you. Every thrust was hitting you in just the right spots, making you let our breathless moans into the hot air. Forcing a mind-numbing, glass shattering, world rocking orgasm to hit you like a train, turning your hot moans into a muffled scream as he kisses you roughly. Your nails digging into his shoulders and back as he fills you up with his load, driving him insane as he reaches his own climax just seconds after you did. When he slid out of you, he collapsed onto the bed beside you, sweat covering your bodies as you felt drowsiness take over you.
Your head was resting in his chest as he heavily pants, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as he reached for a cigarette and a lighter on the nightstand.
The singing birds and sunlight burning your eyes through your eyelids were the first to wake you up that next morning. Taking in your surroundings, you questioned yourself.
'Where the hell am I?'
You slowly sat yourself up, rubbing the hangover from your eyes as you twisted to carefully glance at the sleeping stranger behind you.
Except there wasn't one.
You sighed in relief a little too loudly as you sat up and stretched your arms over your head. The warm sun beaming through the windows, painting a comforting warmth on your naked skin. As much as you wanted to stay wrapped in the soft comfort of the sheets, you forced yourself out of the bed. Tip-toeing your way around the bedroom to find your scattered clothes. As you bent your body down to grab your undergarments, you winced.
"Shit, fuck me," you hissed in pain as your back and hips were sore from last nights events. Even though you could barely remember the events, you knew the pain was worth it. You cleared your throat as you stood up and quickly got yourself dressed.
"I am never going out alone ever again," You sigh to yourself as you strapped your shoes on. Grabbing your purse from the floor, you ever so slightly put pressure on the door knob and twist it, praying it wouldn't make any noise and you'd be able to make your escape as quickly and quietly as possible. Holding your breath as and using the tips of your heels to walk down the hall, making your descent down the stairs. Just as you made it to the main corridor, you found yourself utterly confused. You had no idea where the front door was nor how you would get back home without having to walk all the way back in heels. You would hate to get your shoes dirty
'I didn't think this through properly,' you thought to yourself as you glanced around the area, trying to remember which way you walked in. But alas, your memories were hazy and all you could remember was when he kissed your neck and you surrendered your senses. You cursed yourself for being so easily persuaded by him and those glacier eyes, and for drinking whiskey when you knew damn well that you and whiskey did not mix well.
"You must be Ms. (Y/n)," an elderly voice hit your ears in the midst of the silence, frankly scaring you and making you psychically jolt as you whipped your body to face her. She stood just a few feet from you on the first step of the stairs. It was one of his maids, she smiled at you.
"Uhm-" your voice cracked "Yes that's me," you confirmed as you cleared your throat.
"Mr. Shelby would like to see you in his study, follow me," She started walking down a different hall and led you in front of double wooden doors. She knocked once before opening the door.
"Your guest is awake Mr. Shelby, I brought her like you asked," You stood behind her as his gruff voice gave you the same chills as it did the night before. Your body remembers him more than your own mind did.
"Thank you Francis, that'll be all," he told her, grogginess in his tone.
"Would you like any tea?" She turned to you, her voice quieter.
"Ah, no thank you...Francis," you smiled as she nodded once. You took a few steps past her and into the room. Your heels clicked on the wooden floor as she closed the door behind you. Nervously playing with the pearls hanging from your neck, you looked at Thomas. He sat at his desk, a cigarette already lit and a cup of what you assumed was whiskey on his left. The silence caused your skin to crawl and your throat to suddenly go dry as he looked down at the papers and documents scattered on the desk.
"I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay in your home, I'm sorry if it was an inconvenience for you," You fidgeted your hands as you slowly approached him like he was a feral animal and you were trying to gain his trust. He took a sip of his whiskey and let out a refreshed exhale.
"It really wasn't an inconvenience, (y/n)…wasn't gonna just send you home after the fun we had," He answered it so nonchalantly it almost caught you off guard. You only smiled and let out only the slightest jest of amusement as your lips formed in a closed smile.
"Right, well...I appreciate the hospitality but it's getting quite late and I have somewhere important to be, would you mind-"
"I'll have someone take you in the company car," he lifted his head to look at you. You nodded, indicating a 'Thank you'. Thomas himself led you towards the front door, asking the driver to take you wherever you needed to go. But before you got into the car, he gently grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him again. His hand caressing your face as he brought you into a good-bye kiss. It was soft and sweet, a bit shorter than you both had wanted but you still got to be intimate with him one last time. And for all you knew, that would've been that last time you'd ever be able to do this with him.
Either way, you took your leave in the company Bentley and returned home safely. It was a hazy day in Birmingham. The skies were gray in hue and the cold streets were already busy with workers and cars traveling up and down the streets. It took everything in you to get changed and dressed for the day in under half an hour, struggling to put your arm through your coat sleeve.
"Fuck," You cursed loudly as you ran down the street to your bakery. Panting heavily as you unlock the door and lock it once again behind you. You knew once people saw that your doors were open they'd come flooding in. You threw your apron on and thrusted yourself into baking the pastries you had set up the night before.
It took you nearly two hours after the time you usually open to display the freshly baked treats and open up the doors and just as you predicted, your little shop was bustling with customers. It was times like this where you wished you took Esme's advice and hired more people to help you out. But, you convinced her, and yourself, and you could handle the weekend rushes. You knew if she saw you now she would be laughing and saying, 'I fuckin' told ya so, ya cunt,'
You hated it when she was right.
"Have a nice day, thanks for coming in!" You told your last customer. Following behind them as you locked the door for the evening. Heavily exhaling as you leaned over the counter and collecting the money you made into a yellow envelope. You rested for a quick minute before starting to clean up. The records played calming slow jazz as you swept, mopped, and dusted every corner of the bakery. Once you finished that, you wiped the sweat from your brow and stretched your aching and dry hands. Moving to the back kitchen as you scalded the utensils and set them to dry. As you did this you couldn't help but think about the night before. You wondered what you did to deserve such pleasures by such a captivating man like Thomas. You thought about him all day, internally debating if you should continue this casual 'affair' with him or leave yourself out of it and save yourself the troubles of getting involved with a man like him.
The phone ringing in the office interrupted your thoughts. You haphazardly wiped your hands on your apron as you sat in the creaky chair and picked up the phone.
"(L/n)'s Bakery, (y/n) speaking," You answered in a chipper tone.
"(Y/n)," The familiar voice made your lips creep into a smile.
"Thomas Shelby," Your smile showed through your voice. Thomas couldn't help but put on the most subtle smile on his lips as he imagined the bright smile on your face. You bit your lip as you leaned back in the old leather chair.
"How did you find out where I worked?" You smirked. He was quiet for a moment, a muffled chuckle rang through your ears.
"I have my ways I suppose," He shrugged on his side of the line.
"Fair, I'm not going to question you then," You laughed a bit. It went quiet once again as you opened your mouth to speak again.
"What did you call me for?" You asked, cringing at the fact that you probably sounded more paranoid than curious.
"I just forgot to tell you um...that I had a good time with you last night," Thomas was having a hard time to find the correct words to use. He's never been this expressive before. Not since Grace.
"I did too, Thomas..." You told him, your voice like honey as you spoke.
"I hope I get to see you soon, (y/n),"
His words caused your ears to perk up. Was the notorious gangster really hoping to see you again? The cold-hearted Thomas Shelby? You stared bewildered, lips slightly parted. Who were you kidding? You knew deep down that this was probably the last time you'd see him. He was a busy man, everyone knew that. He himself knew that. Thomas barely had any time to eat a decent meal, let alone seeing a girl he barely knew. Everyone knows that getting to know someone properly took time, and time he did not have.
"I was thinking tomorrow we could meet again...you can teach me how to properly bake a cake" As much as you wanted to take up the offer, you had to decline. You sighed and bit the inside of your cheek.
"I-I'm sorry, I can't...I'm taking care of my kids tomorrow," You lied, guilt washing over you. Thomas tsked on the other line.
"It's no problem, (y/n), perhaps another time then,"
"Yeah...goodnight Thomas," you nodded.
"Have a good night, (y/n)," he told you. Even though you knew he wasn't upset, you still felt horrible. You hung up the phone on the hook, your hand still lingering.
Trying to convince yourself that this was the best option. Not only for you, but for your family. You'd only heard of stories of gangsters' families ending up dead because of the shady business they get themselves into, forcing their family to become moving targets. If his enemies knew you two were casually courting together they'd target your children, the only things worth living for.
Just as Thomas was hanging up the phone, his study door opened. It creaked as the tall dark-haired woman walked in. She smiled as she approached his desk and slid her lean hands on his shoulders. He sighs in relief, placing his hand on top of hers.
"Why don't you come to bed already, Tommy? It's late," Her soothing voice whispered in his ear.
"In a moment, Lizzie," he said tiredly. Her smile slowly slipped as she stood up straight, and without a word she excused herself from his study. He heaved a sigh as he picked up the glass, downing the whiskey in one single swig. He shouldn't be feeling this distressed over a woman he barely knew just twenty-four hours before, especially when he had a beautiful woman already on his side. It confused him to have this feeling, but something was drawing him to you.
It almost reminded him of when he met Grace.
#Tommy Shelby#tommyshelbyxreader#tommyshelbyxlizziestark#PeakyBlinders#peaky blinder fanfic#alfie solomons x reader#Arthur Shelby#John Shelby#Esme Shelby#Lizzie Stark#grace burgess#polly gray#One Night Stand#x reader#reader insert#afab reader#tw infidelity#eventual smut#angst and hurt/comfort#Emotional Hurt/Comfort#eventual romance#eventual relationship#unplanned pregnancy#peaky blinders smut#tw abortion
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