#peaky blinders blurbs

[acewritesficsagain]

When Needed | Tommy Shelby

- Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

- Requested by: @runnning-outof-time thanks for being my first request back, K!

- Prompt: S-03 - After a rough day at work, reader is pleasantly surprised when he picks her up from work.

- Warnings: mentions a patient's death during child birth, ptsd (shell-shock), vomit & blood.

- Wordcount: 633

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Y/N breathes a sigh of relief as she exits the hospital, her spare nurse’s uniform stained with blood, medicine, and the remnants of a long, grueling shift that seemed to stretch on forever. The cool evening air hits her face like a refreshing splash of water, momentarily washing away the fatigue that clings to her like a heavy blanket. The day had gone terribly wrong from the moment she stepped inside the hospital.  

Ten minutes into her shift a patient with severe food poisoning vomited all over her, the horrible smell still lingering in her nose. Not long after cleaning herself up and changing into her spare uniform, another patient violently ripped his IV from his arm sending blood splatter all over her as well as the patient. They had to sedate the patient until the IV antibiotic bag had emptied. As if that wasn't enough to test her resolve, another patient suffering from shell-shock mistook her for them enemy as she tried to administer the medication he needed for a nasty infection. But that wasn't the worst of it.  

The worst moment came when a young mother died giving birth to her third son, leaving behind a grieving father and five children. Fortunately, the baby survived but it was touch and go for the first few hours as they did as much as they could for him. The mother wasn't even her patient. Y/N was called into help and assist the doctor when things started to get complicated.  

After that time, seemed to slow down. Y/N didn't get the time to sit down and process what just happened, it being her first time experiencing something so tragic in her nursing career. She went right back to taking care of her other patients as though nothing had happened.  

Looking up at the night sky to see there is not a cloud in the sky. The full moon and the stars are on full display, one star shining brighter than the others. Her mind drifts back to the mother they lost. She thinks of the baby, now safe and sound in the nursery, and the father who held onto hope through his unimaginable grief. She feels a tear stream down her cheek, her heart going out to the grieving family and the woman who wouldn't get to see her youngest baby grow.  

Y/N wipes her cheek with the back of her hand, a small attempt to gather herself before she starts her walk to the bus stop a few metres up the road. But as she reaches the footpath, she stops, pleasantly surprised to see the man who's been courting her for the last six months, leaning against his car with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

Her heart skips a beat as she takes in the sight of him. A familiar warmth spreads through her chest, momentarily pushing aside the heaviness of the day. Thomas Shelby always had a way of making her darkest days feel a little brighter with just a smile. He flicks the cigarette away, and it lands softly on the ground. 

“I had a feeling I should come pick you up today,” he says, noticing the solemn look in her eyes.  

Y/N manages a small smile, despite the weight still pressing on her heart. “You always seem to know when I need someone the most.” 

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks as he pushes himself off the car and walks towards her, his gaze softening as he takes in the disheveled state of her uniform.  

She goes to shake her head but nods instead. “Let’s go home, first,” she says, her voice soft and fragile.  

Tommy nods, a knowing look in his eyes as he opens the car door for her and helps her get in. 

©️2025 acewritesficsagain - No one has my permission to copy, translate and/or repost anywhere.

Tagged: @rainyday-daydreamer

[ssweetleaf]

dark blue.

tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.

includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here

a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3

⋆✰

“What’s a good girl like you doin’ with a boy like Finn, eh?”

It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.

It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.

So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?

Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.

He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.

You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.

"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"

Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.

"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.

"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"

"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"

An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.

You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.

Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.

"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"

You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.

He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.

"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.

You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?

"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.

"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"

You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.

"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.

His reply was simple.

"You heard me."

"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.

"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."

You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.

"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.

"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.

"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.

“Do you want to?” He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.

“M-maybe…”

“Come here,” Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.

“Do you want me to show you what it’s like?” He cooed all condescending and mocking, “Do you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?”

“Mr Shelby, what about Finn?” His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.

“Fuck Finn,” he spoke slowly, “you forget about him when I’m talking to you, you understand me?”

You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.

“Yes, Mr Shelby,”

“No, no, none of that,” he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. “You address me properly.”

You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. “I’m your daddy now, isn’t that right?”

You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.

Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sure— and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.

“Yes,” you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, “yes, daddy.”

His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.

You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.

"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"

You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.

So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.

Yeah, that was no act.

Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.

Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.

Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.

The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.

He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.

You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.

Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.

"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."

You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.

He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.

"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"

You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.

"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."

"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."

You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.

"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."

Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.

"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."

You nodded, cheeks searing.

"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."

He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.

You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.

"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.

You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.

The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?

Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.

"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."

Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.

So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.

"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.

"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.

"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.

You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.

"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.

With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.

"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"

He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.

You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.

"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"

With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.

You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.

He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.

Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.

"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."

You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.

"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.

Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.

He'd have all of you soon enough.

You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.

"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."

You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.

One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.

"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."

He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.

"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."

Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.

He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.

[thomashelbyswife]

Thomas Shelby Peeking Through Windows

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.

Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3

Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)

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

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

An Unfortunate Accident

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, blood

Word Count: 601

Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.

“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”

She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.

“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.

“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.

“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.

“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.

“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.

“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.

“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.

(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.

One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”

“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.

“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.

“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.

“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.

It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.

“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.

MASTERLIST

[darlingsfandom]

Heeey, I love your writing💕 can you please write something about Tommy buying a horse for his wife and teach her to ride, and the day ends with her riding Tommy real hard😍

Hi! Thank you 💕 I sure can.

TW: swearing , semi public sex, riding, p in v unprotected and not proofread.

Tommy was always full of surprises sometimes they were good other times they were bad and sometimes you didn’t even ask. It was better that way because you knew of the family business long before you married Tommy.

On the bright side this time was a good surprise. You were sitting out back enjoying your romance book with a glass of lemon water while the cool fall air breezed across your cheeks. It was quiet since Tommy was out , Polly was with Lizzie and shopping and the rest of the family was out doing their own things. It was nice to have the house to yourself. All thoughts in your head flew out the window when you heard Tommy’s voice in the distance.

Quickly you stood up on your feet as Tommy came in the yard with a surprise.

“Tommy! What on earth is that?” You asked closing your book and tossing it on the table.

“It’s a horse darling!” He smiled.

“I see that but what I meant was… why do you have a horse Tommy ?” You walked up to him with caution .

“Well because it’s your horse!” He offered you the rope but you stood in shock.

“You bought me a horse? Really? You’re joking! I don’t know the first thing about owning a horse!” You were in disbelief. The horse was beautiful you had to admit but you just couldn’t wrap your head around the reality of the situation.

“Well that’s why ya got a horse! I’m going to teach you how to care for her and how to ride as well.” Tommy petted the left side of the horses face before extending his hand out for you. You took his hand cautiously before he placed it on the horse.

“You got a female horse to match yours? Because they look the same!” A smile crept on your lips as Tommy smiled at you. It was true, he basically got his and hers horses for the two of you. He wanted you to go on rides with him, enjoy the nature that surrounded the home and beyond. A new hobby the two of you could share together since you didn’t collect guns or whiskey and he didn’t bake bread or the most delicious lemon cookies he’s ever had. This was something the two of you could enjoy.

“She is beautiful.” You whispered while petting her mane .

“Just like you my dear. Soft, elegant … Gorgeous.” Tommy kissed your cheek making you turn red. “Now for today I’ll ride with you on her which we can’t just keep calling her well her! You’re going to have to name ..”.

“Tulip!” You blurted out making Tommy chuckle. Here you were so determined not to like his gift but you had a name already picked out. Tommy nodded in agreement before he helped you up on tulip.

Tulip let out a little neigh which made you jump and Tommy shake his head as a laugh left his mouth. He got you up there with ease before hopping on himself. Tommy sat behind you as close as he could so he could still hold the rope and guide tulip. His chest was pressed into your back and had his arms wrapped around you as best as he could.

“Best of ya grab the rope too, safety and all.” Tommy kissed the back of your head and with the snap of the rope the two of you were off.

The afternoon flew by as Tommy took you for a ride along one of his favorite paths. It was stunning watching it go by and the sun sitting high in the sky. It wasn’t long before the two of you made it home. Tommy jumped off first before helping you down and taking tulip into the barn with his horse. The horses looked at each other and it was an instant connection. Tommy laughed as he watched his horse Butcher give Tulip his charm.

“I think they like each other.” Tommy wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you turned to face him and place your hand on his chest.

“I know two other creatures that like each other.” You arched your eyebrow while dragging your hand down his chest.

“I know that look sweetheart… let me take you back into the house..”

“No!” You pushed him up against the barn doors before smashing your lips into his. His hands grabbed onto your waist and lifted your leg up as the two of you kissed heavily mixing your tongues together. Tommy loved when you got to this level of neediness because it meant that he could do what he wanted whenever wherever ! You were needy after the ride because he had you sitting against her harness that was studded and you were sat upon the stud that rubbed against your clit.

“Needy girl … going to let me fuck you in a barn… although two weeks ago at the pub…” Tommy mumbled to himself as you kissed down his neck. Your hands were busy undoing his pants.

“No, you’re going to let me ride you!” You were in a hurry to get his cock out and who was he to complain.

“Now that you’re already an expert in darling.” Tommy smirked as you pulled his pants down along with his boxers but when you pushed him down into the hay that was a shock. You pulled down your skirt but as you took off your panties Tommy grabbed them from your hands and held them up. “Ooh baby, look at that wet spot! What a naughty girl you are.” He licked the wet spot while looking you the eye making you whine. “What’s the matter honey, do you need my tongue licking you hmm?”

“Tommy please! Fuck!” You had tears in your eyes from how worked up you were.

“Ride me baby and then I’ll lick your pretty cunt.” Tommy snapped his fingers and you were on it. You slowly jerked his semi hard cock before putting the head of his cock against your folds. A small hiss left your lips as you sank down all the way on his cock.

“Oh Tommy!” Your fingers grabbed his shoulders as he helped guide you along his cock.

“That’s a good girl, I know it’s big and no matter how many times I fuck ya ya never seem to get used to it! Magic little pussy ya got baby.” Tommy rubbed your hips as you finally started to ride his cock. It was slow and loving at first. He brushed your hair with his fingers as you rocked your hips back and forth making him let out low groans. Tommy pulled you closer so he could moan into your ear because he knew how much you loved hearing his moans.

The two of you enjoyed the soft yet passionate sex but something inside of you took over. Your grip on his shoulders got tighter before you looked up into his eyes and he could see the desire pooling in them. You lifted up your hips and slammed right back down before moving your hips faster, riding his cock like your life depended on it.

“Fuck yes! That’s my girl! Yes baby don’t stop! Feels so fucking good! Fuck! Ride my cock just like that.” Tommy’s hands smacked your ass cheeks at the same time making you cry in pleasure. Your mouth dropped open letting all your whines spill out . Tommy was in love! Well he’s always been in love with you but this was the lustful love . The way you were riding his cock was the best he’s ever felt, the way you just took charge and used him for your own pleasure that lead to his pleasure was amazing to him. His sweet little housewife that had a sexual hunger that only he could fill was the best feeling. Here you were owning his cock, looking so angelic yet doing something so dirty.

“My cock! Mine” you mumbled as you rode him hard.

“Yes baby! It’s yours! Fuck! Such a dirty girl! Fucking me in public place again” Tommy cupped your face in his hands making you look him in the eye before he stopped you from riding him. You pouted your bottom lip but only for a split second until Tommy took over and fucked his cock up into you as fast as he could. The sound of his heavy balls slapping against your wetness filled the barn making you moan loudly. His hand snaked up to your hair and gave it a hard yank so he could cover your throat in kisses. Your orgasm was on the brink and Tommy knew it so he slowed down before gripping your hips to pull you down his cock . He bounced you nice and hard on his cock that was aching to cum in you.

“Tommy!” You whined loudly as your body started to shake.

“I know baby, it’s okay be good for me yeah? Cum on my cock! Soak my cock… be a good OH !” Tommy was cut short as you clenched his cock cumming hard! The two of you cried out together as your orgasms washed over you. You were shaking in his arms as he held you tightly while filling you up with his cum.

Silence filled the barn as you came down from your high. Tommy rubbed your back lovingly as the two of you relaxed enjoying each others body heat.

“Ya know I meant it earlier honey… you’re already an expert in riding alright and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Tommy kissed your temple before he slowly helped you back onto your feet to get back to the house so you could carry on like nothing just happened, just a regular afternoon fuck session between a husband and his wife in their barn. Between you and Tommy , it was never a dull day and neither of you would change it .

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

YOU AND TOMMY IN THE BATH

Pairing.| Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Word count.| .2k

Notes.| Just a little fluffy blurb, open to requests.

You’d always be the only line of therapy that Tommy needed, craved. Especially when he was alone in the bath and he’d spot your soft eyes watching him. Gently, he’d gesture to you to come over, “come’ere love” he’d always smile kindly at you.

You’d gracefully approach him, slowly shredding your silk gown, nothing underneath. Tommy was certain he’d always be a slave to your beauty. With your hand on his shoulder, you push him forward and climb into the tub behind him. A relaxed exhale would leave both of your lips as you wrapped your arm over his firm chest.

The bar of soap would caress over his skin, you’d always tut whenever you’d notice a new mark on his pale built body. All you could hear was the sound of the water splatter around gently, Tommy’s head rested back against your shoulder as he closed his eyes and breathed out. The gears in his head would finally come to a halt. Business was officially put on hold as he focused his mind on you. Only you could ever keep his demons at bay.

Sometimes one of you would fall asleep, sometimes you’d both fall asleep, but most of the time you just enjoyed each other's company. Words never needed to be said, conversation was always to the minimal. The tenderness was always in your heavenly kisses, it spoke such powerful words in your relationship. It truly made his skin feel electrified. All Tommy needed was you, here with him. On the occasion you’d devour each other in the tub. But most of the time, Tommy just wanted to be held and loved in his most vulnerable position.

[fandom-puff]

Hi! Just wanted to say I love your writing and was wondering if I could request "overstimulation + praise kink" with Alfie Solomons from Peaky Blinders please? No pressure though and thank you!!

Thank you so much!! I love Alfie <333

Warnings: contains Overstimulation, oral sex, fingering, penetrative sex, praise kink

Pairing: Alfie Solomons x fem!reader

“There’s a good girl,”

Alfie’s voice was low and gruff as he coaxed yet another orgasm from your oversensitive cunt, this time with his thick calloused fingers pumping deliciously in and out.

Your back arched, pushing your naked breasts against him, and you whimpered as your erect nipples grazed against his clothed chest. Eyes rolling back, your mouth went slack as slurred curses and groans of his name tumbled out in a muddled moan.

Alfie continued his ministrations, nosing at your neck and grazing his teeth against your throat, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. “Doing so well, pet,” he murmured, sucking a mark into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Such a good, good fucking girl for me,”

As his thumb reached up to circle your clit, your legs clamped around his hand, squeezing his wrist as you rocked into his touch. White-hot pleasure seared painfully through every fibre of your being, but you weren’t willing to throw in the towel just yet. You could feel your own wetness smeared on your neck and chest, transferred from Alfie’s beard to your skin once he emerged from between your legs. He had drawn out several releases just from his tongue, and now he had moved onto using his fingers to tease you open, swirling your slick and his saliva around your sensitive pussy until you shook over and over with pleasure.

“Think you’re ready for my cock?”

It was a stupid question; of course you were ready for his cock, and you had been for the best part of two hours. You had even begged for it… about four orgasms ago. “Please,” you whispered again. “Please, need it, Alf, please!”

“So pretty when you beg, darlin’,” he told you, kneeling between your thighs and shucking off his shirt, before tugging himself from his pants. You groaned at the sight of his heavy cock, pushing your hips up towards him. He smirked, holding the base in his fist as he lined up with your entrance, running the tip up and down your wet slit. “Gonna be a good girl and milk my cock?”

When you nodded eagerly, he grinned, pushing forward, stretching you out in a way his fingers never could. “Fuck… good girl, YN, love… take my cock so well, you do,” You moaned, already trying to rock your hips up and down, eager for him to ruin your overstimulated cunt. “My good little pet, drunk on my cock,” he grunted, starting to snap his hips against yours.

It only took a few thrusts before your overworked pussy was spasming uncontrollably around him, and he held onto your thighs, holding you close to him to keep his cock inside you. “Fuck… good girl,” he praised, and smirked as you tried to wriggle away. “But I’m not done with this perfect cunt just yet,”

[calummss]

Change Of Witness | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

summary: coming home earlier from work you see your father with a noose around his neck and hear the sound of a clocking gun behind you

pairing: fem! reader x thomas shelby

words: 800

a/n: inspo kill boksoon; tw short description of abuse; NOT PROOF READ

You never were one to talk much. You rather kept to yourself; alone, surrounded by nothing but thought and memories. Working in the store was a constant reminder that you weren’t a people’s person.

‘Y/n,’ one of the female workers called. ‘Can you take over my shift today?’

‘I can’t,’ you replied dryly. ‘I have a reservation for tea with my mother.’ You didn’t.

‘Oh okay. Have fun.’

‘Thank you.’

Walking over to where your personal items where you went to grab your bag when your sleeve rose, revealing a dark purple mark that kissed your skin, visible to anyone who took a glance at your arm. Quickly pulling your sleeve back down, you made your way out of the shop hurrying along the roads of Small Heath to get home. Wanting you to curl up in bed and deal with life the next day.

‘Look at me when I’m talking to you!’

A sting pained your face as your head turned sideways, impacted by the force of a steady hand.

‘Do you have no respect for me!’

Another sting. Another whip of the head. Your neck muscles are close to cramping as you fell to your knees.

‘Do you have nothing to say?’

You stayed silent.

With a swift motion he held your wrist, forcefully pulling you up as you winced, ‘Please stop,’ you cried out quietly.

‘Now you fucking talk?’

‘Please stop.’

‘I will stop once you act right!’—

‘Excuse me,’ the lady you bumped into apologised kindly.

‘No, I’m sorry.’ You said but she was long gone.

Arriving home you opened the door, leaving your bag at the front a stayed completely silent for a few seconds, trying to figure out if you were alone or if you had to expect him to be home. But something felt eerie. A weird sound sounded from further in the house. Walking towards the living room the sounds got louder, clearer, like someone’s voice was being hindered. When you stepped into the living room you stood still, taking off your hand as you watched your father stand on a small wooden stool with a noose tied around his neck, a scarf tied around his mouth that muffled out the shouts he was trying to get past the fabric. You stood there eyeing him, unsure of what had happened when the clocking of a gun suddenly sounded behind you, something touching the back of your head.

‘You’re supposed to be at work.’ The man’s voice sounded husky.

‘Are you here to kill my father?’ You stared straight ahead, not daring to turn around, trying to sound out your father’s cries for help.

‘Your father is killing himself…’ He said in a raspy tone, his tone weirdly pervasive. ‘After killing his own daughter.’

Pressing your lips together you stared at the noose that held your father’s life, ‘I really should’ve taken that shift.’

You pulled your shoulder together when you noticed that the man had taken hold of your hat, the quiet sound letting you know that he had most likely placed it on top of the piano. ‘Nice hat.’

You cleared your throat.

‘How old are you?’

‘Twenty-two.’

‘That complicates things,’

‘In what way?’ You asked gently, your feet starting to cramp with how still you were standing.

‘You’re basically a child. I have younger siblings so I don’t kill children. That’s my rule.’ He said with his same monotone voice, the pressure on the back of your head releasing when he withdrew his gun.

‘I see that your job isn’t just for bad people then?’

‘Are you always this reckless?’

‘Defining someone as a child is really vague.’ You told him, staring at a picture that stood on the coffee table next to the small stool. ‘Rules should be clearer. You should say you don’t kill minors. But I’m a grown woman with a job.’

‘Child or woman, letting a witness survive—hey.’

Before he could finish his sentence you stomped over to the chair, kicking it from underneath his feet as you watched him wiggle and cry out. You turned around facing the man that had come to your house to do what you had done, recognising his face as Thomas Shelby who you have seen around Small Heath occasionally.

‘Now you are the witness.’ You stared at him, a slow smile forming on your lips as you could feel the grips of your wrist loosen as the muffles grew quieter. His breaths stretching out before stopping completely. ‘Are you still going to kill me, Mr. Shelby?’

[jelly-rei]

Finding Delilah (Part 5)

<Part 4

Part 6>

Summary: Comfort, memories, and choices collide.

A/n: A lot of things happen in this chapter, so I hope it doesn’t seem too messy…

Word count: 3.3k

Content includes: Abuse, Casual anti-romani racism, mentions of death and murder

1917

“How many times did I say not to talk with those dirty gypsies!” Malcolm’s father roared as he whipped the boy with his leather belt, hitting against the tough skin of his freckled back. Malcolm looked behind at his father and said behind gritted teeth and a clenched jaw.

“She’s not dirty, Papa! She’s a good girl…She don’t mean any harm!”.

His father lowered his belt and took one good look at the angry red welt on Malcolm’s back. “Sit down boy,” he instructed. His father placed a hand on Malcolm’s back making him hiss at the painful sting. Maybe it was guilt that crept across the old man’s face—or something like it. He couldn’t seem to meet his son’s gaze. Malcolm relented and sat stiffly next to his father as he was told, looking down at the floor, fiddling with the seam of his trousers waiting for what his father would say next.

“Now, you know why Papa gets really angry when you talk and play with people you don’t know….” His father’s voice faltered, trailing into the thick, suffocating air.

Malcolm bit down on the inside of his cheek, “But Papa…she’s not people…I know her”

Delilah wasn’t just anyone. She was his light. His sanctuary. The only soul whose laughter stitched something broken inside him back together. Malcolm would never allow anyone to speak ill about Delilah. She was his escape. And the only girl who’s energy made him smile. Her happiness made him happy. And that was all he needed.

“Her family are a bunch of gypsies for goodness sakes boy!” He bellowed, his face grimacing, causing the wrinkles on his forehead to deepen.

The insult hit harder than any belt. Malcolm shot to his feet, fists clenched at his sides.

“Why does that matter Papa? You go to the same church as her Aunt and help those same gypsies that you spit on! Mama was a gypsy, so what do you have to say about that?!”

“Well look where that fuckin got her!”

Malcolm stared in disbelief at his father’s words, at his audacity. His mama had passed away from a sickness two years ago. He hadn’t known exactly what sickness had hollowed her out, but he remembered her pale skin, the blue veins mapping across it like rivers, the way Nolan had sat by her bedside everyday—changing her dressings, feeding her broth—while their father disappeared to do God knows what.

His mother had the palest skin like snow. Eyes sunken like a beautiful worn sculpture.

“What does that mean?” Malcolm choked out.

“Your mom was cursed, boy. Magic. Cursed by her own fucking community”

“How do you know Papa? Why would they curse her?” he demanded to know.

“Some of them heard about what I did, and I guess they didn’t like that” His father shrugged nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t the cause of the problem. The whole situation that caused them to move to Small Heath in the very first place.

Malcolm sat back down and raked his fingers through his hair. His mother was a whore, Nolan was a known thief. Malcolm always knew that his family wasn’t really favoured by others back in his hometown. Never knew that the hate was so strong enough to kill someone.

His father was a criminal, constantly on the run from the law. Not sure what crime it was that led to his father threatening everyone in the village that he would kill them if they opened their mouths. But all Malcolm knew that it must’ve been horrible. The only people in the family who seemed to know about his father’s crime were his mother, Mary, and Nolan. And Nolan…he always looked like he'd seen it all.

“What did you do Papa…what did you do that made them so mad? Why’d they take it out on Mama?” Malcolm questioned with his head in his hands, fingers pressing deeply into his temples. Whatever the answer was, Malcolm knew he would still keep his mouth shut, and go on with whatever his father told him to do. He was always a Papa’s boy. He was always praised for it.

“What I did is none of your business. We came all the way here to make a name for ourselves. In here, we are no longer criminals”

Malcolm figured it was useless to try and ask and pry any further. It was clear that his father was never going to tell him and that he was probably going to die never knowing. He was just confused and wondered why it was his mother that was dragged into all this. Why his mother got the other end of the stick. Nolan once told him before he went to fight in France, “You can always reject your father, but you’ll always have your mother’s blood”. Malcolm never understood what that meant. Even now after Nolan had passed. People are always quick to blame your mother for how you turned out. So maybe whatever his father did, the village couldn’t take out their anger at him, out of fear of what he would or could do, then his mother would be the next choice.

“One more question Papa…”

“What now?”

“How long do I have to keep calling myself Malcolm?”

Delilah’s home, 1934

The lights were dim and the air was quiet back at Delilah’s humble abode. She lived in a small two story terrace building on the edge of Small Heath. It was much quieter here, slightly fewer gangs walking around, but still a walking distance from Saint Judes Church and Watery Lane. Her family had strongly advised her to move away from Small Heath when she mentioned that she wanted to continue living there. Everything happened there. Her whole life began there. It felt like she was letting go of everything she ever held on if she moved elsewhere. And Delilah didn’t like to let things go.

“You can’t stay here Dilly,” Polly urged.

“But Polly…I can’t seem to let go of Small Heath”, Delilah whispered.

“You need to move somewhere better, my love, your heart needs peace and Small Heath gonna give you that”

She knew that Polly meant well and was trying to help with her anxiety. Delilah was always weary and paranoid of something happening to her or anyone else in her family. It got to the point where her paranoia had caused her to be awake at the latest hour of the night, walking slowly to her siblings room, opening their doors hauntingly slowly, worrying that something might happen to them.

Ada would lift her blanket and invite her in and hold her tight, letting her know that she’s okay. “Come here Dilly, lay with me, see I’m right here…I’m okay”.

It always scared Arthur the most when she would peek at his door, but he always reassured her as well. “Bloody hell Delilah…You scared me. I’m alright, love”.

John never questioned it and would sit outside on the dining table, distracting her with meaningless conversations.

Oddly enough, Thomas never flinched. Maybe it was because he never slept and was just as paranoid as her. He shared the same fear, always hearing the sound of a pickaxe picking on the back of his wall. Delilah would always invite herself onto his bed, hugging him tightly and he would do the same. He had quickly learned that squeezing her tightly was effective in making her racing heart beat at a gentle pace.

Her home was warm. Not much furniture that filled the space. She liked it that way, not much clutter, especially since her mind was already very much cluttered with thoughts all over the place. Her bed was placed perfectly where the sun would shine through the window but wouldn’t glare directly into her eyes, but instead, bath her in its golden rays. Delilah didn’t do much at home. Her routine consisted of waking up, sometimes she would have breakfast, call Ada and Tommy, and sit on her couch until she would get tired and fall asleep.

She lived alone and didn’t, if not, never had anyone over at her home. But this was going to change because Ada had called a day ago while Delilah was preparing to go to sleep.

“Evening Dilly, are you free tomorrow?—of course you are, you’ve got nothing to do anyway”

Delilah scoffed at her sister’s snarky comment, “Well if taking care of Izzy counts then yes, I am very busy”.

“No, feeding and sleeping with that ginger cat of yours does not count”

Delilah laughed, her siblings never did like her ginger cat, Izzy. Arthur called it a dangerous thing because she bit him once and he now has a grudge. When John was still alive he would call her lazy girl, which wasn’t necessarily wrong. Tommy didn’t even want to be near it.

“If that’s the the case the no, I am not busy tomorrow”

“Good, I’ll be coming over tomorrow. No reason, just figured I wanted to see my cute little sister, mourn, and drink wine while we talk about our wonderful family”

Ada strutted through the busy streets with her large fur coat. Her makeup was elegantly done as always, red rogue perfectly making her lips stand out. She clutched her handbag and walked past the crowd. Ada had an aura and energy around her that made others turn their heads at her when she walked by.

Knock knock knock. She waited patiently for her little sister’s arrival. Soon later, Delilah slowly opened the door and immediately brought a smile to Ada’s face.

“Ada!” Delilah squealed as she yanked her sister inside by her arm.

Ada gasped but quickly balanced herself back on her feet and crossed her arms around her chest, looking at Delilah with that same look she always had. That “I missed you like crazy” look.

“Morning Delilah, I’ve missed my little sister,” Ada said with a playful raised brow as she wrapped her arms around Delilah’s frame.

Delilah assisted Ada to sit on the armchair and went to the kitchen. Ada removed her fur coat placing it on the coat rack, before sitting down comfortably.

“Wine or Whiskey?”

Ada scoffed at the question.

“Whiskey is for heartbreak. Wine, now that’s for grief”

Delilah was amused by that statement. It reminded her of a time where one of Tommy’s friends, or something like that, told her that Gin was for the melancholy and Rum was for violence. But she didn’t have any of those, so it was either Wine or Whiskey. Though wine was usually used for toast and celebrations while whiskey was more for numbing the pain, there was no use in numbing a pain that would never go away. So instead we commemorate it. And Polly was a person to celebrate.

Delilah poured the drink into their cups and they both raised a toast, “To Polly, one hell of a woman she was” said Ada. Delilah nodded and took a sip of her wine.

“That she was”

As they drank, Ada wrapped an arm around Delilah’s shoulder and layed on it. Ada took a deep breath and released a deep sigh. One that dissolved all the weight in her chest. Delilah let her eyes close shut gently. Just having Ada—her only sister, here with her was enough to anchor her back to the ground beneath her very feet. Delilah didn’t know that all she needed to remind her that she’s still real was for another human being to hold her hand and say, “I see you”.

“You know I’ll always be here with you right Delilah?” Ada blurted, her fingers lovingly brushing down Delilah’s brown curls.

Delilah melted into her sister's arms and grunted.

“I’ll remind you that you’re my little sister, and a very special woman in my life, if you go missing, be it physically or spiritually, I’ll never stop finding you”

Silent tears fell from Delilah’s eyes, Ada’s warm hands brushing circles on the small of her back. Ada's eyes flickered upward to the photo of Polly and John in his uniform framed very nicely near the fireplace. Delilah took the pictures from their rooms after they passed away.

“That's a nice picture of them you have there”

Delilah wiped her hot tears away, “Mhm…I don’t want to forget what they look like. I’ve already forgotten what Mom and Dad look like. And Malcolm…”

The mention of Malcolm’s name made Ada sit up straight. “Malcolm? wasn’t that your boyfriend as a kid?”. Delilah swatted Ada’s arm and Ada giggled playfully.

“No he wasn’t my boyfriend. He was just a really good friend of mine back when I was 9. I don't know why, but I have really bad memory. I seem to have forgotten what he looks like already…”

Ada shrugged, “Well it was 17 years ago, that is a long time, Dily”.

Delilah nodded and sighed. She realised that she was starting to forget faces when she couldn’t even get an image of her mother in her head when asked what she looked like. All she could remember was that she had beautiful blue eyes and a voice soft like a feather. And John, she almost forgot if he had brown or blond hair, or if he had freckles on his skin.

So for Polly, she promised she would never forget what she looks like. Polly had beautiful brown curls that she never failed to style so beautifully, every tie and every hairpin fit so perfectly. She had eyes that commanded and hands that could make a man crumble. Those same hands that soothed all her siblings to sleep

“I miss Pol, Ada”

“I miss her too love, let’s just sit here together and talk about her okay? I have all day”

Lucas Woods was wandering around Saint Jude’s Church. Everyone in Small Heath always joked about how Father Woods never leaves the Church. How his soul is stuck there. If you needed someone, you could bet your last penny that Lucas Woods would be there, sitting gracefully on a pew, staring off into the distance.

When the Church was empty—which was always the case, he walked out and found himself at the back of the Church. An overgrown grass patch with wildflowers, and an oak tree in front of him. The oak tree was calling for him to lay underneath it. For once, he felt his chest tightening and his heart telling him to just lay down and let the grass settle on him. Lucas made his way to the tree and hesitantly lowered his body down onto the grass. The tree leaves and long branches sheltering him from the blazing sun. He felt the tight strings stitched into his heart loosening slightly as he rested.

He must’ve fallen deeply asleep because he didn’t realise that there was another person who had been watching him as he rested.

“Delilah?”

Delilah’s eyes widened and she shook her head, “Oh, Oh! Lucas I’m so sorry! I was just walking around here and saw you laying down and thought something had happened to you…” she sputtered.

Her genuine concern was something that Lucas loved about that girl. He could not help but smile at her trying to explain herself. He blinked awake, sunlight shining in his eyes.

“That’s alright Delilah, I was just sleeping. Sorry to worry you my dear”

Delilah’s cheeks flushed a light shade of red. Lucas scooted a little to the side and patted on the empty space next to him. As soon as she sat next to Lucas she could feel the tension in her shoulders relax. Lucas was looking off into the distance as he always did and Delilah was staring at him once again. He just looked so unexplainably at peace but so tired at the same time. The way his eyes had heavy bags but the way his skin was reflecting off the sun so breathtakingly. She always thought everyone she saw was beautiful. And Lucas was beautiful. So painfully beautiful.

Lucas turned to face Delilah and gave her a warm smile, catching her off guard. “Is there something on my face?” he teased. Delilah laughed, “No Lucas, it’s just that…” she reached her hands out as she spoke, and her fingers rested ever so lightly on his textured skin. Lucas watched—feeling his heartbeat quicken and his face warming up slowly but he found himself never wanting her hands to leave.

“Just what, Delilah?”

“Just that you look so beautiful”

His eyes locked onto hers, a mix of surprise and vulnerability reflected in his gaze. As she touched his face, a gentle warmth spread through his body. He remained silent, unsure how to respond to the sincerity in her voice. The word "beautiful" hung in the air, unfamiliar yet deeply touching. For a moment, time seemed to pause, with only the sound of their quiet breathing filling the space between them. His silence wasn't indifference; it was the quiet reverence of someone hearing something beautiful for the first time.

“I’ve never heard that one before,” he mused.

Delilah didn’t respond. Instead, she just let her hands rest on his skin. She didn’t need him to believe her words. But she always felt that she needed to let others know just how beautiful they looked. She couldn't help but be captivated by the unique features of everyone she met. Each person's face told a story, and she found herself drawn to the distinct qualities that made them who they were. With an infectious enthusiasm, she'd often blurt out compliments, her words spilling from a genuine place of admiration. "You're so beautiful," she'd say, her eyes sparkling with sincerity. The way someone's smile lit up their entire face, the quirky shape of their eyebrows, or the radiant glow of their skin—each trait was a masterpiece in her eyes.

“You’re beautiful yourself, Delilah”

Delilah smiled sheepishly at his compliment. Hiding her face in her hands. “Goodness… Lucas, I'm so sorry” she chuckled.

“You just look like someone I once knew,” She muttered.

HMP Birmingham, 1934

The guard didn’t even look him in the eye when he unlocked the cell door.

“You’ve got a visitor,” he muttered.

Michael Shelby stood from the narrow bed, smoothing the wrinkles from his worn shirt. His expression sharpened with suspicion—he wasn’t expecting anyone. Not yet, anyway. His boots scraped against the cold floor as he followed the guard through the dim corridors, passing faces he no longer bothered to remember.

In the visiting room, a single man sat at the far end, hands folded neatly in front of him. He was young, but the way he carried himself made him seem older—like something gnawed away at him from the inside out. His clothes were modest and neat. The kind you wouldn’t glance twice at on the street. Michael slid into the chair opposite him, the wood groaning faintly under his weight. The stranger lifted his head, pale eyes meeting Michael’s without much urgency.

“You’re the visitor?” Michael asked, one brow lifting.

The man simply nodded. No name. No pleasantries.

There was a long pause, just the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Michael drummed his fingers against the table, impatient. “Well?”

The man spoke, his voice low, almost bored. “Your wife made arrangements. She’s paid well.”

Michael leaned forward slightly. “Arrangements for what?”

“To take care of Thomas Shelby.”

The words hung heavy between them. Michael’s jaw tightened.

“No”

The visitor tilted his head, studying him the way one might study a flickering candle, wondering how long it would last.

Michael’s voice was steady. “I kill Thomas Shelby myself. But Arthur goes first.”

The man said nothing, only tapping a finger lightly against the edge of the table. As if he had heard the same thing a hundred times before. Michael went on, voice hardening, “Arthur’s a rabid dog. If I don’t put him down first, he’ll come straight for me. It has to be him first. Then Tommy.”

At last, the man gave a small nod. “As you wish, Mr Gray” he said easily, like the outcome was none of his concern. He stood, smoothing the front of his coat, preparing to leave. But just before he turned away, he glanced back over his shoulder.

“I hope you don’t regret your choices,” he said softly. Then he was gone, slipping from the room with the same soundless efficiency he had arrived with, leaving Michael sitting alone beneath the flickering overhead light, feeling—for the first time in a long time—very, very cold.

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

By Order Of The Crimson Brotherhood.

(peaky blinder!harry)

masterlist || ask me anything

in which, the year is 1921, and the city of manchester is under the control of the ruthless gang the crimson brotherhood, so when there leaders wife gets mobbed in the streets on her way home from the farmers market, the styles brothers make sure they know she is one of there own.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - ik this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but i have 100% been in my peaky blinders era as of the beginning of the month, im already on season four 🙈🙈 and thought it would be kind of cute to join the two worlds together, don’t know if this will turn out any good but who knows?? anywho enjoy angels 💗💞

January, 1921.

Harry Edward Styles, a man born and raised in the city of Manchester, a man known for his ruthlessness, his strong will and his dangerous antics.

Him aswell as his brothers roamed the streets of Holmes Chapel, with razor blades down into the flat caps which ultimately led to fear seeping into the bones of there enemies.

Which they had a lot of.

The Styles Brothers were well renown around those ends, the family always had been, there father wasn’t present and there mother died when the youngest brother was barely a year old.

Harry met you, his gorgeous girl at the age of nineteen, the two of you were childhood sweethearts, destined to be together no matter the circumstances.

You were wandering around the streets, when you bumped into him and his elder brothers Charlie and George. You were about to fall to the floor but your wrist was captured in the hands of the leader, who caught you and raised you back to your feet carefully.

You asked how you could return the favour and he muttered something along the lines of ‘you could let me take you out for a night on the town’

And the rest was history.

When the war broke out, Harry knew for a fact that he would be getting called up to represent his country, and at the point the two of you were already engaged, but he demanded that the two of you be husband and wife before he was shipped off, explaining that if he was to die, he wanted to die as your husband.

So, the two of you had a small ceremony and you officially became Mr and Mrs. Styles.

When he returned home from war, he demeanour was slightly colder due to everything that he had seen and been through, he was colder to everyone around him, except for you.

He could never be angry, harsh, callous or aggravated around you.

People feared him before he went to war, but when he returned it was like he was a ticking time bomb, one wrong move and heads would be blown.

He ruled Manchester.

And that would never, ever change.

In the heart of Manchester, you move with the grace of a queen, your every step echoing the legacy of the Crimson Brotherhood, the notorious gang led by your husband, Harry Styles.

Despite the weight of your marital ties, you refuse to be confined by the expectations placed upon you.

Alone at the market, you weave through the stalls with purpose, selecting the finest ingredients for the dinner you plan to prepare for your husband, and his brothers.

Determination fuels your steps as you pick out fresh produce, savory meats, and delicate spices, each item chosen with care to create a meal worthy of the Crimson Brotherhood.

You approach the butcher's stall with a slightly sense of innocence, the scent of freshly cut meat mingling with the bustling atmosphere of the market. As you exchange pleasantries with the butcher, you can't help but admire the array of cuts on display, each one a testament to the skill and expertise of the person behind the counter.

"Good afternoon, love. What can I get for you today?"

Returning the smile, you reply, "I'm looking for four round beef steaks, please."

One for you, one for Harry, one for Charlie and one for George.

The butcher nods, already reaching for the desired cuts. "Ah, excellent choice. Coming right up."

As they expertly select the steaks, you engage in friendly banter. "Busy day at the market?"

The butcher chuckles, their hands deftly working the meat. "Always is, especially with the sun shining like this. But I can't complain, keeps me on my toes."

You nod in agreement, admiring their skill. "I can imagine. Thank you for always providing such quality cuts."

With a satisfied grin, the butcher presents the four round beef steaks, neatly packaged and ready for you. "There you go, love. These should do the trick."

"Thank you so much," you reply gratefully, accepting the package. "I really appreciate it."

"It's my pleasure," the butcher says warmly. "Enjoy your meal."

With the package of steaks safely tucked into your basket, you bid farewell to the lively atmosphere of the farmers market. The sun's warm rays still linger, casting a golden glow over the bustling streets of Manchester.

As you walk, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having secured the ingredients for tonight's dinner.

Reaching into your basket, you retrieve a pair of gloves, slipping them onto your hands with practiced ease.

Just as you're about to slip the second glove onto your hand, a sudden grip tightens around your arm, pulling you forcefully backward.

Startled, you gasp as you're dragged into the dimly lit entrance of a secluded alleyway, the bustling sounds of the market fading into the distance behind you.

Heart pounding, you struggle against your assailant, your fingers instinctively tightening around the basket's handle, the package of steaks forgotten in your grip.

Panic surges through you as you're dragged deeper into the darkness, your mind racing with fear and uncertainty.

As the man's grip tightens around your arm, you're suddenly face to face with a stranger whose features are etched with menace. His blonde hair falls haphazardly across his scarred face, the jagged line drawing your attention to the intensity in his eyes.

The overpowering stench of rotten egg fills your nostrils, sending a shiver down your spine as he speaks.

"Just the girl I've been looking for," he growls, his words sending a chill through your trembling body. Tears blur your vision as you stare back at him, unable to comprehend the terror unfolding before you.

He was Irish.

In a voice thick with malice, he continues, his words slicing through the air like a blade. "Your husband and his brothers owe me, and I aim to collect. And what better way to send a message than through his darling wife?"

You try to speak, to plead for mercy, but fear has stolen your voice. Before you can utter a word, his fist connects with your jaw, sending you sprawling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, you curl into yourself, the pain radiating through your body like fire.

The man's laughter echoes off the walls, cold and cruel. "They crossed me, and now it's time to pay the price. And you, my dear, are the perfect pawn in this little game of ours."

As he delivers blow after brutal blow, each impact driving the air from your lungs, you cling to the faint hope that someone will come to your rescue.

But as the darkness closes in around you, you realize that you are utterly alone, at the mercy of a man whose cruelty knows no bounds.

With aching limbs, you muster the strength to push yourself upright, the world spinning around you as you struggle to focus through the haze of pain and fear.

Casting a wary glance over your shoulder, you retrieve the basket of food that had fallen to the ground during the attack.

With trembling hands, you wipe the dried blood from the corner of your mouth, the metallic taste lingering on your tongue as a grim reminder of the violence you've endured.

Summoning every ounce of willpower, you force yourself to take a step forward, the basket clutched tightly to your chest. Your movements are slow and unsteady, each step sending waves of agony rippling through your battered body.

As you reach the end of the alleyway, you pause, casting a furtive glance around to ensure that no one is watching. The last thing you need is for someone to see you in this state, vulnerable and exposed.

With a silent prayer for strength, you begin the agonizing journey home, every step a testament to your resilience in the face of unspeakable cruelty. Tears threaten to spill from your waterline, but you refuse to let them fall, determined to maintain a facade of strength until you reach the safety of your own four walls.

With each agonizing step, you inch closer to the familiar sight of 24 Spring Lane, your sanctuary from the horrors of the outside world.

The journey that once felt like a mere stroll now stretches out before you like an eternity, every movement a testament to the relentless ache that pulses through your battered body.

Finally, you reach the doorstep, the key trembling in your hand as you struggle to insert it into the lock. Your fingers fumble with the familiar motion, the simple act of unlocking the door now a monumental task in your weakened state.

As you push open the door and step inside, relief washes over you, tempered only by the searing pain that courses through your body with each labored breath.

The injuries inflicted upon you by your assailant are beginning to take their toll, the dull throb in your ribs now accompanied by a sharp sting at the top of your eyebrow.

Unaware of your husband's presence, you stagger into the living room, your focus consumed by the overwhelming need to seek refuge from the torment of the outside world. But as you drop the basket to the floor and collapse onto the ground, a cry of pain escapes your lips, the weight of your injuries too much to bear alone.

In the dim light of the room, you catch a glimpse of Harry sitting in the corner, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

His expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on some distant point beyond your line of sight.

As you collapse onto the floor, your body wracked with pain, Harry's instinct kicks in, propelling him across the room in a blur of motion. With a sense of urgency, he drops his cigarette and rushes to your side, his hands reaching out to catch you before your skull can meet the unforgiving wooden floor.

His eyes widen in shock and concern as he takes in the extent of your injuries, his heart clenching at the sight of blood staining your face and clothes. Gently, he cradles the back of your head, his touch both tender and urgent as he ensures your safety in the midst of the chaos.

"M’Love, what happened?" Harry's voice is thick with worry, his usually steady demeanor shaken by the sight of you in such distress.

He carefully brushes the hair from your face, his touch feather-light against your bruised skin.

You struggle to find the words to answer him, the pain making it difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak. But as you meet his gaze, the unspoken understanding that passes between you is enough to convey the depths of your suffering.

Without hesitation, Harry gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest with a fierce protectiveness that belies the tenderness in his touch. As he holds you close, you feel a sense of safety wash over you, a comforting reminder that no matter the trials you may face, you will always find refuge in his embrace.

As Harry holds you close, his voice filled with concern, he gently urges you to tell him who is responsible for your injuries. But fear grips you tightly, paralyzing your voice as you shake your head vehemently, unable to form the words to convey the terror that still grips your heart.

"Please, love," Harry implores, his eyes searching yours for any sign of reassurance. "Y’need to tell me who did this. I won't let ‘em hurt you again, I promise."

But the memory of the man's cruel laughter and the violence he inflicted upon you looms large in your mind, filling you with a sense of dread at the thought of facing him again. How can you trust that Harry's promise will hold against such ruthless brutality?

Tears stream down your face as you cling to Harry, your body trembling with the weight of your fear and pain. You long to confide in him, to share the burden of your suffering, but the words remain trapped within you, a silent scream of anguish and despair.

In response to your silent plea, Harry's grip tightens around you, his arms a shield against the darkness that threatens to consume you.

"I swear to you, (Y/N)," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil raging within you. "Whoever did this won't ever be able to hurt you again. I'll make sure of it."

"I... I don't know his name," you manage to say, your voice trembling with fear and pain. "But he... he had blonde hair and... and a scar."

Harry's expression darkens as he processes your words. "Patrick McDonald," he mutters, his voice laced with anger and recognition. "Bloody hell."

Another wave of pain radiates from your ribs, causing you to instinctively turn your head into your husband's chest, seeking comfort in his embrace.

As you lean against him, Harry's arms tighten around you, a silent vow of protection against the threat that looms on the horizon.

"I'll deal with him," he promises, his voice a low growl. "No one hurts my wife and gets away with it."

“George, Charlie!”

You hadn't even realized they were in the house, lost in the chaos of your own pain and fear, but now they appear, their presence a welcome relief amidst the turmoil.

With wide eyes, George and Charlie rush into the room, their expressions shifting from confusion to concern as they take in the sight of you battered and bruised on the floor.

"What happened to ‘er?" George demands, his voice edged with worry as he kneels beside you, his hands hovering over your injuries.

Harry's jaw clenches with barely contained fury as he speaks the name that has haunted your nightmares since the attack.

"Patrick McDonald," he growls, his voice thick with anger and determination.

Charley lets out a harsh breath, his expression darkening with recognition.

"Bloody hell," he mutters, his fists clenching at his sides.

As the gravity of the situation sinks in, George's gaze flickers between you and his brothers, his features set in a steely resolve.

"We need to find him," he declares, his voice firm with determination.

Harry nods in agreement, his eyes burning with a fierce determination.

"And when we do, he'll wish he'd never laid a hand on her," he vows, his voice a low growl.

With trembling hands, you grip tight onto your husband's waistcoat, your eyes pleading with him not to leave your side.

"Please, H," you beg, your voice wavering with fear and desperation. "Don't leave me."

Harry's gaze softens as he looks down at you, his heart aching at the sight of your pain.

"I have to, m’love," he murmurs, his voice laced with regret. "That bastard deserves hell f’what he did to you, and he's going to get what's coming to him."

You shake your head frantically, tears streaming down your bruised cheeks.

"But I need you here," you plead, your voice barely a whisper amidst the chaos of the room. "I'm scared, H. Please don't leave me alone."

For a moment, Harry's resolve wavers, his love for you outweighing the thirst for vengeance burning within him. But then, with a heavy heart, he gently extricates himself from your grasp, his eyes filled with determination as he rises to his feet.

"I promise, (Y/N)," he says, his voice firm with resolve. "When we find him, he's going to hurt just like he hurt you, s’a promise, and I never, ever break promises. He’ll get what’s coming to him one way or another.”

“By order of the Crimson Brotherhood."

[ssweetleaf]

shame.

tommy shelby x fem!reader

summary: you urge tommy to speak up and tell you exactly what he wants while he’s on his knees.

includes: sub!tommy, dom!reader, allusions to cunnilingus

˖ ࣪⭑

“Come on, Tommy- can’t give you what you want unless I know you really need it.”

Thomas stared up at you, face all warm and blotchy, a pretty blush swarming along his skin out of sheer embarrassment and the constant throbbing of his cock. He was on his knees, hands grasping at your thighs to get you to go easy on him, to let him get up off his achy knees and pathetic position.

But no, of course you wouldn’t let up, he needed this, he needed someone to take over control and force him into submission— and that person was you.

So, like any good, obedient boy, he was going to have to beg for it.

“Cat got your tongue, hm?” Your brows raised, a faux look of disappointment flashing across your pretty features. “Really thought you were gonna be my good boy tonight, Thomas.”

Oh no. Thomas. You only called him that when you were really disappointed, his full name uttering off your lips in a huff and a scowl, annoyed that he wasn’t complying to your commands.

He had to fix that.

“N-no!” He rushed out, reaching up and pressing his cheek into your tummy, hands encircling your full hips when he he breathed out. “I want to be good.”

His speech came out as a mumble, hard to hear, muffled too by the fabric of your dress in his face, so you took a handful of his hair, tugging his face back and urging him to look up at you— into your eyes.

“Speak up.”

“I want to be good— for you,” he said, much louder that time, eyes pleading you to coo at him as if you were proud.

A small smile graced your lips and you let go of his hair to cup at his cheek, rubbing your thumb along the sharp line of his jaw and cheekbone, over and over, soothing him just a little and letting his eyes flutter shut.

“I know you do,” you replied, “and you are.”

He let out a shaky breath. His cock was painful, tenting the crotch of his trousers, a little wet spot forming where his tip was resting, pre-cum already saturating him and you hadn’t even played with him yet.

There was a part of him that felt wrong for how pliable he had become, how soft and submissive he was around you— a person like him, of his status, should crave dominance inside the bedroom just like how he would outside of it.

But it was just so easy to let go, to submit and fall apart.

He desired attention and praise— your attention and praise.

Tommy swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing and eyelids squeezing shut, he lifted up the skirt of your dress slightly, bunching it up around your thighs.

“Can I taste you?” He muttered, looking up at you before shuffling closer so his nose grazed against your clothed cunt.

You raised your eyebrow at him, waiting for that certain word.

“Please?” It was almost a whine, nosing at the wet spot on your underwear, the tip of his tongue swiping along it, just for a little preview of the real thing.

You ran your fingers through his cropped hair, scratching at his scalp the way you knew he liked, cooing down at him.

“Go ahead, sweet boy.”

[peakyltd]

Storm

John Shelby x Reader

A/N: Hiii! It's been a while. I haven't forget about this account or writing in general but time was not in my favor 🥲 I missed every single one of you and I'm glad I was finally able to finish this. About the one shot: I got my inspiration for this piece from the scene in season 3 under the pier with Arthur, John and Mrs. Changretta.

Warnings: Rage, mentions of war

Words: 1K

A soft breeze found it’s way trough the opened window of the kitchen, gently touching her skin while she was occupying herself to finish the fresh apple pie. She looked up briefly, her eyes catching the peaceful countryside that made the corners of her lips turn into a small smile. The gentle hue of the sun made it look even prettier and she already imagined John and herself sitting outside, enjoying their pie.

She carefully opened the oven before putting it inside, the feeling of the escaping heath against her face warned her to be careful. She wiped her hands on her apron after closing it and focused on the dishes that needed to be cleaned. Once she was almost finished she heard the front door open, letting her know that her husband had arrived.

Heavy footsteps came her way, followed by a soft touch on her lowerback. A smile crept onto her face as she turned to look at him. “Hello darling.” She greeted happily. “Hi love.” He murmured before pressing a light kiss onto her lips. “The apple pie is almost finished so I hope you’re in for it.” She smiled. “Mhm, smells good.” The lost look in his eyes and the lack of enthusiasm told her everything she needed to know.

While she dried her hands, John turned to leave the kitchen. “John, wait.” She called after him, stepping away from the counter. “What’s wrong?” Her eyes scanned his face, worried about his well being. “It’s nothin’'.” He took his cap off, holding it tightly in his hand while his jaw tensed. “Rough day today, that’s all.”

She gently grabbed his hand while stroking it with her thumb, a way to soothe him. “What happened?” She wondered. “Just business, just… leave it, yeah?” His eyebrows were knitted together while his response sounded rather annoyed. He turned away from her to continue his way out. “I can see it bothers you, love. You know you can talk to me.” She carefully tried again in hopes he wouldn’t torture himself with his own thoughts.

In a swift motion he turned around, throwing his cap her way and pointing his finger in her direction. While she tried to dodge his cap, his eyes widened and his face flushed with rage. “Shut up! Yeah?! Fuckin’ shut up!” His voice was loud while his breath quickened. “I told you it’s fuckin’ business. Now fuck off!”

She gulped at his sudden outburst, her eyes widened in hazy uncertainty. Neither of them making the first move to leave the kitchen. His narrowed eyes were overshadowed by anger but she noticed the glint of sadness lacing them. The tension in his face slowly faded while he looked at the woman he loved so dearly, knowing she meant well but his anger was getting the best of him too easily.

He turned around and left the space, eager to get outside. The sound of the heavy door slamming shut made her turn to watch him trough the window as he threw the first object he could find along the gravelly path, followed by many curse words and shouting.

A deep sigh fell off her lips while she felt the concern gnaw at her. The funny, charming and above all; sweet guy was still there but since his return from war, his ability to regulate his anger was barely there. He claimed he didn't came back with a trauma like his brothers but for his loved ones it became more visible with each outburst.

Sometimes she could calm him, sometimes he knew he just needed time and sometimes none of them knew how to handle it.

Her hand carefully rested on his broad back, letting him know that she was there. She kept quiet, not wanting to disturb his peace as she sat down next to him on a log. His head hung low, resting against his hands.

“You deserve better, y’know.” A low mumble came from his lips. “How can I get something better when I already have the best?” She looked at his frame while gently stroking his back. He shook his head softly. “Not the time for sarcastic jokes, eh.”

“It’s not sarcastic nor a joke.” She tilted her head, noticing his tear stained face. Her chest felt hollow at the sight as she wrapped her arms around him, carefully pulling him against her body. He rested his head against her chest, his arms finding their ways around her waist.

“He wanted me to kill her.” He confessed after a while. “I couldn’t do it, she’s a good woman.” Her hand gently stroked his hair. “Who?”

“Mrs. Changretta. She was our teacher. I remember her giving us sweets and…” He stopped, allowing himself to take a deep breath. “I fuckin’ threatened her, she was fuckin’ scared but I couldn’t do it.” He sat up straight.

She took his hand, stroking it softly with her thumb. “You made a good decision.” He turned his head to look at her, eyes tired and sore. “Her husband is dead, Arthur did it.” She nodded hesitantly at his words. “How is that a good decision?” Her gaze held his, no good excuse coming to mind. “You saved her.”

He looked down at his shoes, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe.”

Spoken words made place for silence as they held each others hand. The soft breeze found its way to them, slowly blowing trough their hair while the sun gently caressed their skin.

“I didn’t mean it.” John spoke up, turning his attention back to her. “I know I can’t take it back but I didn’t want you to shut up or fuck off. Not any of that. I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand softly. “I know. It’s fine.” She assured him.

“You fuckin’ surprised me with apple pie which smelled so damn good and I just treat you like shit.” Her knuckles gently stroked his cheek while his remorseful gaze took her in. "I forgive you."

"I'll do better, I fuckin' promise." He added, his hands finding their way to the sides of her face, lips connecting with hers as they melted into a deep, meaningful kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, John.” She smiled, giving him one more kiss. His arms wrapped around her body, pulling her closer to him as their bodies connected in a way that made the monster in him fall silent.

Tagging some people who might like it, obviously no pressure to read it if it's not your cup of tea! @brummiereader @call-sign-shark @peakyswritings @zablife @emotionalcadaver @runnning-outof-time @tea-atfive @raincoffeeandfandoms @lovemissyhoneybee

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi K! I have a request if you fancy it... 👀

❛ i could keep you safe. they’re all afraid of me. ❜ with Tommy or John. 🙏🏻🫶🏻

Thanks so much for sending this in, Daisy! I’m sorry it took me a little bit to get it written — I decided to write this for John. I hope you like what I did with the prompt! ☺️

People Know Better | John Shelby x Reader

Pairing: John Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: (Y/N) meets a rather charming man at a party who seems to have no worries towards dealing with the group of men who were giving her a hard time.

Warnings: drinking

Word Count: 1089

COMMENTS, REBLOGS & ANONS ARE APPRECIATED — I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY!

A smile formed on (Y/N)’s as she looked around the club. She was happy she decided to come to this place. The energy coming off of the clubgoers was so poignant that she could practically feel it.

She had been sitting at the bar, occupying a single seat in hopes that she could have a drink or two and do some people watching. She was able to get that wish for most of the evening…but then two men showed up.

They sat in the two open seats next to (Y/N). Those seats had been previously occupied by an older couple, and they’d been a lovely pair to conversate with. (Y/N) had the immediate feeling that this new pair wasn’t going to follow suit in that same manner.

At first they kept to themselves, ordering a few drinks and then talking with each other. But then she caught their eye.

It started with a few glances coming from the man that was facing her direction. She was able to see him grinning at her from the corner of her eye, and she tried her best to ignore and keep her eyes trained on the dance floor. But then the first guy nudged the second; the man that was sitting closer to her. The hand that brushed her arm made her finally look in their direction.

“Not gonna give us anything attention, sweetheart?” the first man questioned, a grin on his face.

“Why should I?” she asked in a curt tone, raising her eyebrows at them. She hoped that her uninterested nature would make the conversation short and sweet. Both men looked at each other upon hearing her response. They seemed surprised that she offered push back instead of going along with with they’d said. “That’s what I thought,” she said, more so to herself then anything, before turning back to look out at the sea of people again.

That wasn’t the end of the interaction though. “Who do you think you are speaking to us like that?” one of them quipped, incredulousness present in his tone.

(Y/N) kept her eyes trained straight ahead. Maybe if I ignore them, they’ll stop, she thought to herself, silently hoping for that to be the truth.

“Hey, we’re talking to you, doll,” the other man chimed in, his tone holding more frustration than anything.

(Y/N)’s head didn’t turn.

They still didn’t get the message. Thinking of a new plan, they both stood from their stools and moved so that they were now standing in front of her. “Whatcha gonna do now, huh?” one of them questioned her, a grin forming on his face.

“The lady doesn’t want to speak to the two of you,” another voice entered the conversation before (Y/N) could say anything. “Give it up before either of you do something stupid,” the new man then gave a suggestion.

“We’re in the middle of some…”

“Let’s get outta here, mate,” the second man stopped the first before he could finish his sentence. His eyes were trained on the new man, and the smirk he was previously wearing was nowhere to be seen now.

This interjection made the first man turn and look to see who this new person was. His demeanor flipped on a dime. “Let’s go,” he muttered to his friend, tugging on the lapels of his suit jacket in attempts to save face before he nodded his head to his friend, a silent gesture for them to leave the bar.

(Y/N) finally got to look at the man who’d made the others leave. He was tall, wearing a long, black coat and a peaked cap covered his head. He watched the two men leave before finally turning and meeting (Y/N)’s gaze. A grin formed on his features as his blue eyes met hers.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) smiled at him, appreciative of his sudden company, “those two were insufferable.”

“It’s my pleasure,” the man grinned at her. He motioned to one of the empty barstools and (Y/N) nodded her head, knowing that he was asking if her could join her.

“You’re not planning on trying the same thing, are you?” she questioned him, a light-hearted tone laced into her words.

“No,” the man shook his head. “I could keep you safe though. They’re all afraid of me.”

His second statement made (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrow. “How can you be sure of that?” She didn’t quite need help being kept ‘safe’, but she’d happily accept his offer of keeping those men, and any others like them for that matter, away from her.

“People know better than to speak against a Shelby, love,” he responded in a confident manner.

“Ahh, and you’d be a Shelby?” she questioned, tilting her head slightly to show her intrigue.

“John Shelby,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out between them to extend a formal greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you, John,” she smiled at him, “my name’s (Y/N).”

She then accepted his hand, her eyes widening and lips curving upwards slightly in surprise as he suavely lifted it to his lips and kissed the top of it. Not a single thing about him was making her feel like she should be cautious around him. If anything, his confidence was making her more intrigued by him. It was refreshing, and a complete 180 from how the other two men had attempted to get her attention.

He winked at her as he lowered her hand, and all she could do was grin as she tried not to let her cheeks heat up too much. The last thing she wanted to do was freeze up in this moment. So she put on a confident face and maintained eye contact with him until he looked away to call the bartender over.

John asked for another round for the two of them, waiting until the man left to begin making their drinks before he turned to look at (Y/N) again. He didn’t expect doing a routine check of one of the Shelby-owned clubs would turn into this, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest.

(Y/N) also didn’t expect to meet this handsome stranger when she entered the club to do some people watching. But as John handed her a glass and flashed one of the grins that she was so quickly falling for, she realized that her night had turned into something that was ten times better than anything she could have planned out.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @succubaby @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing

@evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy

@strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut

@zablife @cillmequick @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @padfootdaredmetoo

@crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627

@brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @justrainandcoffee @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely

@ce1iat @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway

@mysticalfuncollectorus @sleepyycatt @novashelby @wonderlanddreamer

[darlingsfandom]

Could i please ask for a Tommy request where your his new assistant you’ve both been flirting and teasing each other with occasionally bumping into each other slight touch of hands until one day tommy decides to step over the line and fucks you in his office claiming you his.

Understand that you’r super busy and if this is something you can’t write I understand you can change anything.

You got it friend ✨

TW: swearing, cream pie, p in v unprotected, slight breeding kink if you squint !

Not proof read- also finished writing this at 2am!

It’s been over six months in the Shelby household. Six months of doing laundry, making breakfast, lunch, dinner and every Friday a nice dessert followed by doing the dishes, cleaning the rooms and making the beds. They do pay a pretty penny and since you’ve come so far for the position they turned a spare room into your bedroom , of course it was on the first floor by the kitchen but that was better than walking all the way home to turn around and return only a few hours later.

Every day you followed the same schedule of getting up, getting ready, made their breakfast , cleaned up then had your own breakfast before re cleaning the kitchen, did the laundry, dusted, took out the garbage , tidied up the rooms and made the beds (Polly made her own! She’s picky about it) after that you’d make a simple lunch and take it to whatever room the family members were in. You enjoyed it.

“Good afternoon Mr.Shelby.” You spoke softly walking into his office. Tommy was looking over some paperwork as you dropped off his lunch.

“Smells delicious as always.” He gave you a quick smile which made your heart flutter.

“Thank you Mr.Shelby, I’ll be back for your dishes in a little bit.” You nodded and made your way out of the room making sure to hide your blush as best as possible. It was no secret that you found him attractive , but you’re not the only one who has eyes for him. You’ve seen your fair share of the women who strolled in and out , but lately there’s been less and less. Usually he’d bring home two girls a night , every night! But it’s actually been about two weeks since you’ve seen him being anyone home.

You stood in the kitchen looking out the window watching the rain pour while the dishes sat on the rack air drying. It wasn’t usual for you to have some down time and the family didn’t mind since you did a good job.

“Anything interesting out there?” His voice made you jump a little before you turned to see him holding his dirty dishes.

“Oh Mr.Shelby, you didn’t have to bring those out here , I was coming to get those shortly.” You took the tray from his hands. His finger tips brushed over yours gently and that wasn’t new. Lately Tommy has been finding ways to touch you in soft ways for example he’d touch your waist when squeezing past you in the hall, how his fingers would touch your hand when handing you something, his eyes would linger on you when you’d bend to set his stuff down or when you’d bend over to grab something from under the sink, no wonder he’d stop bringing random women home.

“It’s the least I could do, gettin’ a bit borin readin’ paper work all day.” He smiled at you as you walked over to the sink .

“I suppose that could be borin’” you washed up the dishes as he stood there watching you carefully before stepping towards you and boxing you in against the sink. His hands rested on your hips making your skin crawl in a good way before his chin rested on your shoulder. “Mr.Shelby, are you feeling okay? Do I need to get you some medicine ?” You turned a little but he stopped you .

“I’m not sick darlin. Just need someone to hold. It’s been a minute…” His hands ran up your sides before pulling you away from the sink as you set the last dish on the rack. “Come with me.” Tommy held onto your hand as the two of you walked back into his office. “Please sit.” He set you down on the couch by the window before making sure the door was locked. “You enjoy your job yeah?” He asked sitting down next to you.

“I do Mr.Shelby. Your family is very kind to me and pay well.” You nodded rubbing your hands over your thighs. His hand rested over yours before lacing his fingers with yours which made your eyes grow wide.

“Please darling, don’t be shy.” Tommy leaned in and kissed your cheek before moving along your jawline up to your lips where he brushed them slowly. Your lips pushed back into kiss your eyes fluttering closed as his hand moved up your thigh. Tommy kissed you harder as he adjusted you so that you were on his lap. Your hands rested against his chest.

“Mr. Shelby … this is wrong. I’m just your help.” Tommy placed his finger over your lips to which you wrapped them around his finger while looking in his eyes.

“You’re not my help sweetheart, you’re simply mine.” His eyes darkened with each word while his tone shifted making you clench around nothing.

“I’m sorry , I don’t understand …” you tilted your head in confusion before you felt his teeth sinking into the side of your neck. Tommy sucked softly after biting making a small whimper leave your lips.

“It’s simple. What’s mine is MINE! And you darling are mine and I’ll make sure everyone knows it.” Tommy had pushed you back onto your feet before quickly lifting up your long skirt and bending you over his desk. He smirked at the wet patch on your panties as his fingers ran across the spot, his lips pressed into the side of your neck, your hands held tightly onto the desk with your head feeling fuzzy because there was no way it was happening. “You’re all mine.” He whispered against your skin as his fingers pulled your panties to the side so he could slide his fingers into slowly making you gasp.

“Mr.Shelby!” You looked over your shoulder to see the way he was biting his lip like a man being detained from his favorite meal.

“Please darling, call me Tommy.” His fingers twisted in and out of you at a pleasurable pace that you’ve tried to reach yourself. Tommy pulled his fingers out before licking them clean while fussing with his belt. The loud clank of the metal hitting the ground brought you back to reality.

“Tommy! We shouldn’t be doing this , you’re my boss.” His finger covered your lips to shush you again before he turned you to face you as his free hand ran over your stomach.

“I’m not your boss anymore… you’re simply mine and I can’t make it any clearer “ Tommy grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest while he lined the head of his cock up with your pussy and slowly pushed in making you scream , nose scrunching from the stretch of pain. “Unless I put a baby in ya.” Your eyes went huge in disbelief.

“Tommy!”

“Don’t worry darling , I won’t put a baby in you… yet.” He pushed himself all the way inside making your hands grip onto his shoulders. Tommy let you adjust. The way your heart was about to burst out of your chest scared you because there was no way this was happening! Thomas Shelby was fucking you on his desk, to be fair you’ve thought about it a million times in your own bed but you didn’t think it would actually happen.

The two of you stayed silent for what felt like ages. Tommy slowly started pumping in and out of you while looking into your eyes. Your hands ran over his chest before gripping the fabric of his shirt to pull him in deeper and smash your lips against his. You’re not sure what came over you but you wrapped your leg around his waist as he started to pick up the pace. Hearing his groans deep in your ear made you moan right into his ear as he held you tightly. His scent of tobacco and whisky intoxicated you along with how he switched it up by pulling your other leg up and angled himself deeper into you making you cry out.

“Oh Tommy! I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“I know darling , I know! I’ve wanted you too.” His words made you melt. Tommy looked into your eyes before kissing you hard , biting your lip as he pushed harder into you.

“What took you so long ?”

“Had to make sure you wanted me too. Do you know many girls see me just for the money?”

“You mean the whores?”

“Yes! They meant nothing, mindless sex.. this though… this feels real .” He stroked your cheek.

“Tommy, I love this soft side but could we have this talk after?” You pleaded before he looked down to see his cock glisten with your juices.

“Sorry darling, see you get me feeling so many things.” He chuckled before adjusting you on the desk and holding your legs up and wide open so he could drill harder into you.

“Fuck!” Your eyes closed shut as he took no mercy in holding back, letting all the tension ease out into you. The way you moaned below him with the cuteness on your face how pink you were, how your nose scrunched, the way your lips stayed parted, you were the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.

“Darlin, I can’t last much longer.” Tommy was a panting mess above you. His face tightened as a loud groan escaped his throat. His thighs shook as the grip on your ankles tightened , his organs hit him hard , filling you up with his cum Tommy looked down at you to see that look in your eye. He knew your own orgasm was on the edge so he used his thumb to reach down and rub your clit with slight pressure at an alarming pace. The coil in your stomach snapped making your back arch as you cried out for him digging your nails into his desk.

“Shhh, I got you.” Tommy pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you to keep you close. He kissed the top of your head while you panted in his arms. The two of you stayed in each others arms comforting each other until his office door came flying in.

“Thomas … have you..! Oh!” John covered his eyes with a smirk on his lips.

“Oh be a man John, it’s not like you haven’t fucked a girl before.” Tommy rolled his eyes before brushing the hair from your face.

“Of course I’ve fucked a girl, just never our staff.”

“Well from now on, Y/N is not our staff ! She’s my love.” Tommy kissed your cheek.

“Yeah yeah that’s great and all but for the love of god can ya get dressed , we have a meeting.” John waved his hand before stepping out of the room. Tommy shook his head before slowly pulling out of you. You could feel some of his cum drip out of you before he fixed your panties. Tommy tucked himself away before pulling you back by your hips.

“Move into my room tonight.” He rubbed your hips gently.

“Yes, Mr.Shelby.” You gave him a wink before he gave a little pat on the ass as you made your way out of his office and down the hall to your new way of life.

[thepictureofchampangeproblems]

Can someone PLEASEEE write a John Shelby fic with him having a lactating kink and breeding kink? Please and thank you.

[fandom-puff]

Hi! Congrats on 10k!! Wondering if it would be alright to request 📚 for Alfie Solomons with the prompt: "thought I'd never see you again". Thanks and congrats again.

Thank you so so much!! I hope you enjoy 🥹

Warnings: reference to violence

The front door slammed shut and Cyril let out a booming bark, before the gruff voice of Alfie soothed him. You barrelled through to the hallway, barely seeing Alfie’s eyes crinkling into a smile before you were in his arms, your arms wrapped around his neck.

Poor man nearly fell down, but your Alfie was always firm and steady beneath you. “I’m here love,” he murmured into your hair, his lips pressing against your head.

“Hate when you’re gone for so long,” you whispered, hiding your face. Alfie let out a low grumble of agreement.

“And you know I hate being away from you for so long too, Sweet, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “Thought I’d never see you again, I hate it when you go to Birmingham,”

Alfie smiled, rubbing your back. “It is a shithole,” he agreed. “But no brummie or blinder will do me in love,” he tipped your face up to look into your eyes. “Or they’d have Mrs Solomons to answer to, hm?”