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#thoma
evilvvithin · 18 hours
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THE TEXAS CHAINSAW MASSACRE marcus nispel, 2003
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live-from-gotham · 14 hours
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we’ve got a pulse!
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i am bored as shit so if you guys have any pressing questions about literally anything asks are open 😔 i love yapping with everyone
masterlist
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elenaazra · 17 hours
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"You don't find it son, you make it"
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hotchs-big-hands · 13 hours
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He’s so T H I C C
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You are so right anon I’m at my LIMIT UGH HE IS SOLID.
I’m unwell.
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dcfangirl · 9 hours
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Tim: wait, you quit smoking?
Jason: I quit smoking when I became Robin.
Tim: Ok,That Is Not True. I've seen you smoke recently, don't gaslight me!
Dick: You didn't really quit smoking when you were Robin Jay, you used to take my cigs sometimes
Duke: wait,, YOU used to smoke??
Dick: Yeah, back when I was Nightwing
Duke: You're /still/ Nightwing ???
Tim: He means back when he was Discowing
Duke: What's discowing???
Jason: The reason I used to smoke.
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deostyx · 7 hours
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The Prince and The Duke
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incorrectbatfam · 17 hours
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evergreensounds · 19 hours
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The Terror - You ain't going nowhere, The Byrds
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queenshelby · 5 hours
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Sweet Possession (Part 4)
Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)
Warning: Age Gap, Smut
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"What is going on, Tommy?" you asked when he came back inside,  still feeling a little uneasy about what you had seen outside.
Thomas hesitated, his eyes darting around the room before settling on your face. "Just business, Love," he said dismissively, but there was a guarded look in his eyes that made you think he was hiding something.
"But what kind of business?" you pressed, your voice tight with apprehension.
"Business that I cannot discuss with you,"  Thomas replied, a hard edge to his voice.
You flinched at this, recoiling slightly from him. "Can't, or won't?" you asked, your eyes narrowing with suspicion.
Thomas sighed heavily, running a hand through his damp hair. "Can't," he said firmly. "It's better that way."
But you couldn't let it go. Something in your gut was telling you that there was more to this than he was letting on, and you were determined to get to the bottom of it.
"I am your wife, Thomas. You made me a promise on our wedding day to always be honest with me. I deserve to know what's going on," you said, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture.
Thomas sighed and walked over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of whiskey. He took a long sip before setting the glass back down on the table with a heavy thud. "I have been asked to export certain things on behalf of the Crown. Things that the Crown cannot itself be seen  to be involved with," Thomas finally admitted, his voice tense and low.
Your eyes widened with shock as you absorbed his words. The Crown? Exporting things that they couldn't be seen to be involved with? What on earth could that mean?
"What kind of things?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.
Thomas hesitated before finally answering, "Weapons. Guns. Ammunition," Tommy explained, his voice barely above a whisper. 
"Illegal things," you gasped, your heart twisting with a mix of fear and disappointment.
"Not illegal, just controversial," Thomas replied, his voice still low and tense. "And necessary. It helps fund our operations and the facilities we support, including the orphanage you want to work in," he told you and you stared at him, your mind reeling with the implications of his words.
"So, it is legitimate? Because you are doing this on behalf of the crown?"  you asked, struggling to make sense of the information Tommy had just revealed to you.
Tommy nodded. "It's a delicate matter but, of course, I wouldn't do anything illegal. You know that, right?" Thomas asked, his eyes pleading for your understanding.
You nodded slowly, taking in the weight of this new information. "Of course. I trust you , Thomas," you finally whispered, albeit with some hesitation.
Thomas let out a sigh of relief at your words, pulling you into a tight embrace and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I love you," he murmured.
But as the night wore on, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that something was still amiss. The idea of Thomas being involved in such controversial and dangerous business left a bad taste in your mouth, and the thought of him endangering himself for the sake of others weighed heavily on your heart.
The following morning, however, you went on with your day as if nothing had happened. It was your first shift at the orphanage, to which you had agreed last minute as someone else had, apparently, called in sick.
Isiah, was again, tasked to drive you to the orphanage and, when you told him that he could simply drop you off and then pick you up later, he shook his head.
"No, I need to stay with you Mrs Shelby," he  replied, his voice brooking no argument.
You sighed inwardly, not wanting to cause a fuss but also slightly annoyed at the thought of having your every move shadowed by Isiah.
You couldn't shake off the feeling that he was keeping tabs on you for Thomas.
But you swallowed your pride, knowing that it wouldn't be wise to defy Thomas given everything that had happened the previous night. You assumed that he was just being overprotective of you and this was kind of sweet, you thought. 
The orphanage was buzzing when you arrived and a young man, around 25-years of age, greeted you in the grand hall of the big building. His name was James McKinnin , a well-known social worker of the city.
"Hi, it is so nice to meet you. I'm Y/N Shelby, Thomas' wife," you said with a smile, extending your hand towards him.
James clasped your hand firmly and shook it. "Mrs Shelby, of course. I heard that you we were coming," James told you , his voice full of enthusiasm. "Mr Shelby called me yesterday evening, at around midnight, to let me know that you would be joining us and it was quite a surprise, you know. Mr Shelby donates a lot of money to our organisation and I would not have expected his wife to volunteer with us as well," the man continued, his tone earnest as he led me down a long corridor.
"It's my pleasure and a little selfish really. I miss the work but, since I moved in with Thomas, I gave up my employment, so I have become rather bored," you said honestly and James smiled at my response.
"That's very commendable Mrs Shelby, but let me ask you, do you have any experience in a setting like this? Without meaning any disrespect, being Mr Shelby's wife, I had expected you to be a little older,"  James asked, his words laced with polite curiosity.
"No, but I am eager to learn, and I am certainly not afraid to do some hands-on work. Before meeting my husband, I worked in a factory and then in a pub, cleaning up after drunk men, so I am no stranger to hard labor," you replied with a small chuckle.
James smiled warmly at your response, clearly impressed by your determination and down-to-earth attitude. "That's fantastic, Mrs Shelby. I'm sure you'll be a great asset to our team. Let me give you a quick tour and introduce you to the other staff members," James said as he led you further into the orphanage. "Michael, one of our duty managers, will be looking after you and explain everything you need to know,"  he added as he spotted Michael in the distance.
Michael was a tall, slender man in his mid-twenties with short, curly brown hair and warm hazel eyes. He greeted you with a friendly smile and shook your hand firmly, welcoming you to the orphanage. He then gave you a brief orientation and introduced you to the other staff members, who were all friendly and welcoming as well.
As you worked there, you began to realize just how much need there was in the community and how much of a difference your husband's donations were making.
You felt proud to be a part of it, even in a small way.
That day, Michael showed you everything you needed to know in a commercial kitchen setting, which is where you wanted to work. It was your passion, cooking for others and Michael appeared to be an excellent source of information.
Isiah, however, always stood in the corner, observing your interactions with the tall man who, for his liking, occasionally came to close to you when working in the kitchen.
"Here, let me show you," Michael said on one occasion as he approached you from behind, taking the knife from your hands. "This is an easier way to prepare the herbs for the soup," he said, brushing your arm ever so slightly and causing Isiah to intervene. 
"Everything alright here?" Isiah said, his tone stern and disapproving.
"Yes, of course," you replied, flustered at the intrusion. "Michael is just teaching me how to prepare the herbs for lunch," you added in an attempt to defuse the tension that had suddenly filled the air.
Michael nodded a greeting towards Isiah, who continued to glare at him with suspicion but nodded nonetheless.
Isiah then intervened a few more times over the next few hours, insinuating that Michael was getting too friendly and, eventually, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable with his presence.
Despite this, however, the day had been productive and fulfilling for you. You had made new friends, learned new skills, and felt a sense of purpose that had been missing in your life for quite some time.
As the sun began to set, Isiah drove you back to Thomas' luxurious home and, just after Frances greeted you and Isiah, you made your way to Tommy's office.
"You are late," was the first thing he said , not looking up from the documents in front of him. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling into the chair opposite him.
"I am sorry, I didn't realize the time," you answered with a small smile. "I was just so engrossed in what we were doing."
This seemed to appease him, and he looked up and smiled at you, reaching across the desk to take your hand in his. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said softly.
"I did," you answered, squeezing his hand.
"I really did. I never knew that working in a kitchen could be so fulfilling."
Thomas smiled at your enthusiasm, his eyes softening as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm glad," Tommy smiled before asking you for Isiah's whereabouts. 
"He is downstairs," you said. "Shall I send him up?"  you asked, your voice laced with a hint of caution. Thomas' demeanor had shifted again since that morning, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why.
"Yes, I have some business for him to take care of," Thomas replied, his tone curt and dismissive. You nodded and stood up from your chair, making your way to the door. But before you left, you turned back to Thomas and looked him in the eye.
"Is everything alright?" you asked, searching his face for any signs of distress. 
"Yes Love," Tommy said, forcing a smile onto his face. "Everything is fine," he added, although his voice didn't quite ring true.
You frowned at his response, not entirely convinced. But you nodded anyway and made your way to the door, calling for Isiah to come upstairs and, unbeknownst to you, what Tommy really wanted from him was an update on your day. 
"How was it?" Thomas thus asked as soon as Isiah walked into his office and closed the door behind him.
"It was fucking boring ," Isiah replied with a sigh, leaning against the door. "Just a bunch of kids and their annoying chatter," he explained to his boss who, of course, had some more questions.
"And what about the employees. Did they treat my wife with respect?" Tommy asked , his voice low and tense. 
"Of course, they did," Isiah replied with a shrug. "They were all very friendly, although, one of them was a bit too friendly in my opinion," he went on to say , causing Thomas's eyes to narrow.
"How so, Isiah?" Thomas asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"Just one of them kept getting a little too close to her," Isiah replied with a shrug.
"Too close how?" Tommy queried with a steely glint in his blue eyes. He didn't like the sound of some man invading your personal space after he had secretly made sure, for many years, that you were shielded from these kinds of advances.  However, as Thomas pressed for more information, Isiah's response was casual and nonchalant.
"Just talking to her a lot, and touching her arm on occasion," Isiah finished, still leaning against the office door.
"He touched her?" Thomas repeated, his voice deceptively calm.
Isiah nodded. "Yeah, a couple of times," he confirmed before, explaining to Tommy again that the employee in question had only touched your arm. "Her arm, Tommy. Nothing else," Isiah clarified, sensing Thomas' growing tension. 
"Did you get his name?" Thomas asked, his voice low and growly as he clenched and unclenched his fists in an attempt to conceal his anger.
"Yeah. His name is Michael Grosvenor," Isiah told Thomas, his voice steady despite the dangerous look in his boss' eyes.
"Michael Grosvenor, eh" Thomas repeated, testing the name on his tongue. He would remember that name. "Did my wife seem interested in his advances?" Thomas then asked, trying to keep his voice even.
Isiah shook his head. "No, she seemed a little uncomfortable with it after it happened a few times, but she didn't say anything," he answered honestly.
Thomas nodded, his mind already racing with plans of how to handle this situation.
He had always made it clear to the men in town that his property was off-limits, but now it seemed that some of them had forgotten that rule.
"I see," Thomas said simply, his voice deadly calm. He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk to stand in front of Isiah. "I want you to keep an eye on my wife whenever she's at the orphanage. Do you understand?" Thomas ordered, his voice low and commanding.
"Yes, boss," Isiah responded, understanding the gravity of the situation. He nodded once, before turning and exiting the room, leaving Thomas alone with his thoughts which began to race incoherently until, eventually, he snapped out of it and walked downstairs to the reading room where he knew he would find you.
"Y/N, may I have a word?" Thomas said, his voice rough and low as he entered the room. He closed the door behind him with a definitive thud, before walking over to you, the sound of your own heavy breathing filling the air around you. 
"Of course," you responded, your voice a breathy whisper, your heart pounding in your chest as Thomas knelt down before you and pulled your legs apart, his gaze fixated on the lacy underwear you were wearing, catching you off guard. 
"Thomas," you gasped, your fingertips digging into the plush armchair you were sitting on as he placed a soft kiss on the inside of your thigh, just above where your stockings met your skin.
"Isiah tells me that one of the employees at the orphanage got a little too close to you today," Thomas growled, his voice gravelly with desire.
You let out a soft moan as he traced his fingers along the seam of your underwear, the lace already damp with your arousal.
"No, oh god Tommy, it was innocent," you moaned , your head falling back as he pressed a tender kiss to your clit through the thin fabric.
But Thomas wasn't having it. He was insanely jealous and protective of you, and the thought of some man touching his property made him see red.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and tugged them down your thighs, baring you to him. He growled as he saw how wet you were, your pussy glistening in the soft light of the room.
"Innocent, eh?" Tommy groaned. "Just like you were, just days ago, before we got married,"  he continued, pinching your clit firmly between his thumb and forefinger.
You cried out at the sensation, arching your back as you clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his muscular arms.
"Tommy," you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as he teased you with his fingers. "Please," you begged, not sure what you were asking for, but knowing that you needed more.
"Please what?"  Thomas rasped, his mouth hovering over your pussy as he waited for your response.
"Fuck me," you whimpered, unable to hold back the words any longer. 
"But why should I?" Tommy asked. "You let some stranger touch what's mine and now you want me to give you what you want?"  Thomas growled, his fingers still teasing your clit. 
You whimpered as you processed his words, but the ache between your legs was insistent. 
"He didn't. I mean, he touched my arm. Oh god, please,"  you moaned, pulling his head towards your core, desperate for some kind of release.
Thomas chuckled and obliged, pressing a tender kiss to your clit before slipping a finger inside you. You gasped at the intrusion, your back arching off the chair as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, his thumb still teasing your clit.
You felt yourself building towards your release, but just as you got close, Thomas pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you feeling empty and unfulfilled.
"No, don't stop," you begged, your voice breathy and desperate.
Thomas smiled at you wickedly, his fingers still slick with your arousal. "Tell me who you belong to, Y/N. Who owns you, eh?" Thomas repeated, circling your clit with his thumb as you writhed beneath him. "Say it."
"You do," you gasped, your breath hitching as he stroked your aching core with deliberate slowness.
"Be precise," he demanded, his voice low and raw with need.
"You own me. You own my body. I'm yours," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips in a desperate plea.
Thomas smiled, a self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. He held up his fingers, still slick with your arousal, and sucked them into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.
"Good girl," he praised, his eyes dark with desire as he reached for his belt.
You watched him undo the belt, your breath caught in your throat as you waited for what was to come next.
Thomas pulled the belt from the loops of his trousers, the sound of the leather slithering through the buckle echoing in the stillness.
"Tell me again," he commanded, his voice rough and ragged with desire as he approached you, the belt coiled in his hand like a snake ready to strike. "Who do you belong to?"
"You, Thomas," you panted, your eyes wide and fixed on the belt in his hand. "I'm yours. Only yours," you confirmed, your voice heavy with desire.
Thomas' eyes blazed with a primal hunger as he lifted the belt and brought it down against your inner thigh with a sharp crack.
You gasped at the sudden sting, your eyes watering with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Thomas watched you carefully, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort or distress. But all he saw was your desire-filled gaze locked onto his, inviting him to continue.
He raised the belt again, bringing it down on your other thigh with an equally sharp crack. You whimpered at the sensation, your hips bucking up towards him as you begged for more.
Thomas' eyes narrowed as he dropped the belt to the floor with a thud, his hands going straight to your hips to hold you in place. He tugged your legs apart wider, his gaze locked onto the glistening folds of your aching pussy.
"You're so fucking wet for me," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing the slick seam of your core.
He spread your arousal over your clit, the sensitive nub throbbing under his touch. "And all mine," he growled, his eyes flashing with a primal hunger as he pushed down his pants , his hard cock springing free.
You moaned as he positioned himself at your entrance, notching the tip of his shaft against your slick folds. "Yes," you hissed, digging your nails into his shoulders as you arched your back, ready for him.
Thomas thrust into you in one swift movement, filling you to the hilt. You cried out at the sudden invasion, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he buried himself inside you.
Thomas groaned as he felt you tighten around him, your walls clenching him like a vice.
"Fuck, Y/N," Thomas growled, his hips pistoning in and out of you in a punishing rhythm. He reached down between your bodies and found your swollen clit with his thumb. He pressed down on it, rubbing it in slow circles as he continued to thrust into you.
You moaned as he touched you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.
Thomas was merciless, his hips slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless. The sound of their bodies slapping together echoed through the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.
Thomas reached down and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing gently as he powered into you. You whimpered at the feeling of his hand on your throat, your pussy clenching around his cock in response.
"You like that, don't you?" Thomas growled, his voice low and raw with desire. He had never taken you like this before, so possessively and it quickly became overwhelming for you.
The hand around your neck, the unyielding thrusts, and the sound of his hips slapping against yours. The pleasure was so intense that it bordered on pain. But, before you knew it, your orgasm was already creeping up on you. With every circling motion of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you felt yourself getting close to the edge.
"Come for me, Y/N," Thomas rasped through gritted teeth as he continued to thrust into you at a relentless pace.
"I want to feel you come all over my cock."
Your breath hitched as the heat within you coiled tightly, ready to unravel at any moment. Your legs shook around Thomas' waist, trying to keep contact as he hit your sweetspot over and over again.
With one last, hard circle of Thomas' thumb on your clit, you cried out as you toppled over the edge. Your orgasm tore through your body like a freight train, leaving you panting and trembling in its wake.
Thomas groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, milking his cock as you came. He continued to piston in and out of you, chasing after his own release which came much faster than he had expected.
Pulling out of you quickly, he cupped your mound, his fingers massaging and teasing the sensitive folds of skin as he watched you come down from your orgasm while he stroked his cock.  He was so turned on by the sight of your pleasure that he couldn't help but take his own.
"Touch yourself, Y/N," he growled. "I want to watch you make yourself cum again, Love," he told you and so you did. 
Your fingers hovered above for a moment before brushing over the sensitive nub of your clit.  You gasped at the contact, your hips bucking as you felt yourself growing more and more aroused.
Thomas' eyes blazed with desire as he watched you touch yourself, his hand continuing to stroke his cock in long, languid movements. He groaned as he saw your pink flesh flush a deep red, your arousal unmistakable.
"Yes, just like that," Thomas rasped, his voice barely above a whisper. "Make yourself come again."
You whimpered at his words, your fingers moving faster over your clit as your pleasure mounted.
"Oh god, Thomas," you gasped, your legs shaking as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Thomas groaned, his hand moving faster as he watched you touch yourself until, finally, he too came, hard and fast.
He grunted as he spilled his seed onto your stomach, the thick, white ropes of his release painting your skin in a primal display of possession.
You watched him, your chest heaving as you caught your breath, your pussy still clenching in aftershocks of pleasure. Thomas' eyes met yours, the dark desire in them sending another flush of heat through your body.
"Jealousy suits you , Tommy," you whispered, your fingers still stroking your sensitive clit.
Thomas chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your stomach flutter. "I'm not jealous, Y/N. But what's mine is mine and  I won't have anyone else touching it," Thomas growled, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip as you lay panting beneath him, his tone determined. 
"Nothing happened," you reassured him, your voice softer than a whisper. "It was just a small touch. It was inadvertent, innocent and it meant nothing."
Thomas nodded, but the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, before pulling up his pants. 
"I can't help it, Y/N," Thomas admitted, his voice low and rough. "I need to know that you're mine.
Only mine," Thomas rasped, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. 
"I am," you whispered, looking up at him with doe eyes that made him weak at the knees. "I've always been yours, Tommy. Only yours," you repeated, emphasizing the words that seemed to drive him wild and, whilst you had boyfriends before him, none of these relationships really lasted.
One of the men you had been with before meeting Tommy was killed in a fire following your second date while the other had disappeared without a trace, as had your brother. Men seemed to always have abandened you until now.
Until Thomas Shelby. Thomas had been a constant force in your life. Never leaving, never giving up on you and always making sure that you were safe and secure. But as much as you belonged to him, he belonged to you too. 
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sukuaeheddo · 15 hours
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BRIAN DO NOT MOVE A MUSCLE!!
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loo-nuh-tik · 22 hours
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violent138 · 14 hours
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Duke, balancing the phone between his shoulder and head: I need some advice, there's been a breakout.
Jason, speeding up his motorcyle: From Blackgate? Arkham?
Duke: Uh no, on my face. What do you do to prevent acne from the helmet?
Jason, rolling his eyes at the flashing lights now tailing him: I'll be there in ten, I need to see what I'm dealing with in person.
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dwenerys · 16 hours
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Episode 2 Guide
hello! i made this little guide yesterday but only shared on discord since i dont know how to use tumblr anymore (11 year old me was way smarter). this contains all the options i came across while playing, so i don't know if some crushes have special dialogues during their date. hope it helps! (✿◠‿◠)
jason
1. energetic
2. rebel (+5 with jason, -5 with roy and devon)
3. energetic
4. rebel (+5 with jason, -5 with roy and devon)
5. energetic
6. sweet: perphaps its up to me to be smarter...
7. no way am I going to leave things there
amanda
1. sweet
2. energetic
3. sweet
4. sweet
thomas
1. energetic
roy
1. energetic
2. energetic
devon
1. energetic
brune and elenda
1. if energetic +5 elenda if rebel +5 elenda - 5 brune if sweet +5 brune
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Thomas Gainsborough (1727-1788) "Frances Browne, Mrs John Douglas" (1783) Oil on canvas
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queenshelby · 10 hours
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Sweet Possession (Part 3)
Pairing: Very Dark! Thomas Shelby (32) x Innocent! Reader (19)
Warning: Age Gap, Smut
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Later that day, just as you were waiting for your husband to return home, you couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety  in your stomach as you thought back to your strange encounter at the Italian grocer earlier that day.
The way the man's eyes had flickered down to the gun hidden beneath Isiah's jacket, before quickly averting his gaze. The memory sent a shiver down your spine and you couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right.
Despite that, you quickly put those thoughts aside as you heard Tommy’s footsteps carrying through the door of Arrow House.
You glanced at the clock hanging in the hallway, realizing that it was already shortly after eight o’clock in the evening.
Thomas walked into the reading room where you were sitting, nursing a glass of wine, the dinner you prepared waiting in the oven to stay warm. He was, still wearing his coat and looked somewhat tired. 
"I am sorry I am late , Love," he greeted you, dropping a quick kiss on your forehead.
"Is everything alright?" you asked your husband, concern etched in your voice as you gazed into his tired eyes. You noticed that there were faint lines around his eyes that you hadn't seen before.
"Yes , everything's fine," Thomas assured you, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, trying not to let your suspicions get the better of you.
"Good. I'll go and serve dinner then," you said, standing up from the sofa and making your way into the kitchen but, just as you stood up, you noticed some red blood stains on the collar of his shirt which he was clearly trying to hide by leaving on his coat.
Nonetheless, you decided not to address it, giving Thomas a reassuring smile before you walked off.
"I should have a shower first, Love. It has been a long day," Thomas told you truthfully in passing, his voice still low but there was a lilt to it, like he was keeping something from you.
"That's fine. Just come down when you are ready," you called after him from the hallway and he gave you a quick nod and a smile before disappearing upstairs.
Minutes later...
The dinner that you had prepared was delicious. The meat had cooked to tender perfection and the rich, earthy flavor of the mushrooms you had picked from the forest earlier that week complemented the dish beautifully. The aroma alone was enough to make your mouth water.
Carefully, you removed the dish from the oven and set it on the table in the nearby dining room, lighting the candles that you had arranged in its center. You had always loved setting a nice table, believing that food always tasted better when it was presented beautifully.
You had spent many hours as a young girl watching your mother, a talented cook, prepare meals for your family. Now, you were proud to use the skills she had taught you.
You had just finished setting the table when Thomas walked into the dining room, his dark hair still damp from his shower. He was wearing a clean white shirt and dark trousers, looking both comfortable and sophisticated. His face was free of stubble and his eyes sparkled with warmth as he looked at you.
"Something smells good," he commented, walking over to where you stood by the table and giving you a kiss.
You blushed, always feeling a little shy when Thomas praised you. 
"Thank you," you responded, making a small curtsy before taking your seat at the table. Thomas chuckled, sitting down across from you and reaching for the glass of whiskey you had already placed in front of him, knowing how much he enjoyed a drink as he dug into the food. 
"I enjoy cooking. In fact, I was thinking about doing some work at the local orphanage. The children there could really do with some decent meals , and it would give me a chance to feel useful," you told Tommy as you served yourself up some food as well, never enjoying the maids doing it for you. 
Thomas raised an eyebrow at this, studying you closely. "You want to work at the orphanage?"
You nodded, taking a sip of your wine. "Yes. I know how much you support local charities and causes. You're always helping people in need, and I want to do my part too."
Thomas smiled at this, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's very thoughtful of you, Love. I'm sure the children will appreciate it," Thomas replied, gazing at you with a softness that made your heart flutter. "But remember, Love, the world can be a dangerous place for a young woman and you, of all people, should know that, eh." 
"It's an orphanage, Tommy. It's not the Garrison," you chuckled, recalling the night he had saved you from a less than favorable situation.  Thomas cocked an eyebrow, his face growing serious.
"I know that, Love. But even so," he began to say, before trailing off, collecting his thoughts. "I will send Isiah with you," he then said, shaking his head and you stared at Thomas for a moment, surprised at the intensity of his words. It was clear that he was deeply concerned for your safety, and you couldn't help but feel touched by his protective nature.
"You are always so worried about me ," you told him with a soft smile, reaching across the table to take his hand in yours. He met your gaze with a steady one of his own and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.
"It's my job to worry about you, Love," Thomas replied, his voice low and earnest. "You're my wife, and I want to keep you safe."
The two of you finished the rest of the meal in relative silence, the only sounds being the soft clinking of silverware against china and the occasional sip of whiskey or wine.
Thomas watched you closely, his gaze warm and affectionate. He had always been a protective man, although sometimes his methods could be a little unconventional. But you knew that in his heart, he always had your best interests at heart.
As you finished your meal and pushed your plate away, Thomas leaned back in his chair and gave you a small smile. "I have something I want to show you," he said, his voice low and mysterious.
You raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued. "What is it?" you asked and Thomas smiled, his eyes gleaming with excitement.
"It's a surprise, Love," he said, standing up from his chair and offering you his hand. "Come on, I'll show you."
You took his hand and let him lead you out of the dining room and down the hallway to his study. The room was dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a soft glow over the large wooden desk that dominated the space. Thomas closed the door behind you and crossed over to the desk, reaching for something behind it.
It was then that you noticed a large painting leaning against the wall, wrapped in thick brown paper.
"Are you going to tell me what it is?" You asked, unable to hide the excitement in your voice. Thomas chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Patience, Love," he murmured, carefully unwrapping the painting to reveal an exquisite work of art. It was a portrait of you , a stunningly accurate depiction of your likeness, down to the last detail. Your eyes were wide with surprise as you took in the image of yourself, feeling a little self-conscious under Thomas' intense gaze.
"It's beautiful," you breathed, reaching out to touch the canvas. The brushstrokes were delicate and precise, capturing the softness of your skin and the warmth of your smile. You had never seen anything quite like it before.
"I had it commissioned as a wedding present," Thomas explained, his eyes never leaving your face.
"I wanted something to celebrate the woman you are, and the woman you're becoming."
His words sent a rush of warmth through you, filling your heart with a sense of love and pride. You had never felt so cherished, so adored. It was an incredible feeling, one that left you breathless and overwhelmed.
You stood there, hand still resting on the painting, heart pounding in your chest as you looked into Thomas' eyes. You could see the raw desire burning in his gaze, the hunger that told you he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.
"This is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas stepped closer to you.
His hand reached out, gently grasping a tendril of your hair, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen," Thomas growled, his breath hot against your skin.
Your heart raced as he pulled you towards him, his lips crashing down onto yours in a passionate kiss that left you breathless.
"Tommy ," you gasped, your voice barely audible as his hands roamed over your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist before cupping your breasts over your dress.
"Yes, Love?" Thomas murmured against your lips, his thumb teasing your nipples through the fabric until they hardened beneath his touch.
You moaned softly, arching your back into his touch as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance that was both familiar and thrilling.
Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer as the hunger inside of you grew stronger.
"I want you, Tommy," you whispered hoarsely, your breath hot against his ear.
Thomas responded with a growl, his hands tugging at your dress until it slid down to your feet, leaving you standing there in nothing but your lacy underwear.
"Fuck, you are so beautiful," Thomas groaned, taking a step back to drink in the sight of you. "And you are mine," he added possessively, reaching out to trace the curve of your hip with his fingertips.
You shivered at his touch, feeling a pulse of desire low in your belly. You had never felt so desired, so wanted before. It was intoxicating.
"Yes, I'm yours," you whispered, reaching out to touch him in turn. Your hands found their way to his belt, the metal buckle cool against your skin as you undid it and slid it free from its loops.
Thomas groaned as you began to undo the buttons of his trousers, revealing the hard length of his cock beneath.
"Fuck, Love," Thomas gasped, his voice barely above a whisper as you wrapped your hand around him, feeling the velvety softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.
You pulled him forward, pressing your lips to his collarbone and trailing kisses down his chest as you unbuttoned his shirt and sank to your knees before him all at the same time.
The scent of him was musky and intoxicating, and you couldn't resist the urge to take him into your mouth.
"I have never done this before," you confessed, looking up at him with shy, yet eager eyes.
Thomas' expression softened at the admission, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "I know , Love," he murmured. "I'll guide you." And with those words, you opened your mouth eagerly, waiting for him to make the first move.
Your tongue darted out, teasing his tip and tasting his pre-cum as it leaked out. Thomas moaned deeply, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper, urging you to taste more of him.
You complied eagerly, exploring every inch of him with your mouth as Thomas thrust gently into your throat. Your hands wandered up to his toned ass, pulling him closer as you sucked and licked with abandon.
Thomas' breath hitched as you drew back, gasping for air before sliding back down on him once more.
"Good girl ," Thomas grunted, guiding your head back down onto him.
You could feel the trembling in his legs as you worked him with your mouth, the intensity of his pleasure building to a peak.
"I'm going to cum, Love," Thomas warned, his voice low and strained. "Do you think you can swallow it?" Thomas asked, his voice tight with anticipation. You looked up at him, eyes wide, and nodded eagerly.
"Good girl," he praised you before grabbing a fistful of your hair and pumping his hips faster.
You worked your mouth up and down his shaft, feeling the throbbing of his cock intensify until finally, Thomas thrust deep into your throat and held it there as he came hard. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could, feeling the hot streams of cum coat your tongue before spilling out of the corners of your mouth.
You felt a sense of pride wash over you as you took it all in, Thomas's hips still thrusting as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.
Finally, with one last gasp, Thomas pulled out, his cock sliding free from your mouth with a wet, sucking sound. You looked up at him with a sense of accomplishment and longing, unable to tear your eyes away from the sight of him.
Thomas reached down and gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.
His eyes were soft, filled with love and admiration. You blushed under his gaze, feeling both proud and self-conscious at the same time.
"God, you're beautiful," Thomas murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "And so fucking sexy."
Your blush deepened at the compliment, but you didn't look away. Instead, you reached up and took his hand in yours, bringing it to your lips for a gentle kiss. Thomas smiled at the gesture, his thumb tracing idle patterns on your skin as he looked down at you with a hunger that made your heart race.
"Come here," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "I want to feel you."
You stood up, stepping closer to Thomas as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the evidence of your earlier efforts still slick against your thighs. The combined scent of him and of yourself left you heady, intoxicated by the smell of raw, unbridled sexuality.
His mouth found yours again, his lips claiming yours in a bruising kiss that left you breathless and trembling in his arms.
"I always wanted you to do things to me, on this big desk of yours," you giggled nervously  , your eyes sparkling with mischief.
Thomas's grin deepened, his hands roaming your body with a possessiveness that made you shiver.
"Then what are you waiting for, Love?" He murmured, his voice low and seductive.
You didn't need any more encouragement than that. Within seconds, you had pulled your underwear down your legs and climbed up onto the desk, positioning yourself so that your ass was right at the edge.
"So fucking perfect ," Thomas growled, his eyes burning with desire as he took in the sight of you spread out before him, ready and willing.
You felt a rush of heat flood your body, the thought of being so exposed heightening your arousal to new heights.
Thomas reached out, his hands tracing the curve of your waist before moving up to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending pulses of pleasure straight to your core.
You moaned softly, arching your back and pressing yourself into his touch.
Thomas' mouth found yours again, his lips silencing your cries as his fingers continued to tease your nipples.
"You like that, Love?" Thomas asked, his voice low and sultry.
"Yes," you gasped, your breath hitching as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. "Please, Thomas."
Thomas grinned at the plea, his fingers leaving your breasts to trace a path down your stomach and towards the apex of your thighs.
"God, you're so fucking wet for me," Thomas groaned against your mouth, his fingers brushing through your folds before delving deep within you.
You gasped, your back arching off the desk as Thomas began to thrust his fingers in and out of you. Each stroke hit a spot deep within you, driving you wild with pleasure.
"Please Love, let me cum inside you ," Thomas groaned, his breath hot against your ear.
"No , I- I can't," you gasped, feeling the familiar fluttering deep within your belly.
"Please ," Thomas begged as, finally, he aligned himself with your wetness and thrust into you with one swift push, but you knew that if you let Thomas cum inside of you, there was a chance you could end up pregnant. And with your life the way it was, the last thing you needed right now was a child.
You shook your head, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your husband bottomed out inside of you.
God, he felt amazing. But you knew that this was as far as you could go.\
"I am sorry," you whispered, your breath hitching as Thomas began to thrust his hips against yours, driving himself in deep and hard. "I-I can't. I'm sorry."
But Thomas seemed to understand.
"It's alright, Love," he murmured, brushing a stray curl from your face with a tender hand. "I'll just make a mess instead," he chuckled in between groans as he continued to thrust in and out of you.
Your nails dug into the desk, your breath coming in ragged gasps as Thomas's hips snapped against yours, his cock hitting that delicious spot inside of you.
"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your pelvis bucking to meet his thrusts. "Harder."
Thomas growled at the demand and obliged, his cock pounding into you with bruising force. You cried out, throwing your head back and bracing yourself against the onslaught of pleasure.
Thomas's thrusts became erratic, his breaths coming in short panting gasps.
"Fuck, I'm close Love," he groaned, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips.
You nodded frantically, feeling your own pleasure coiling deep within you. "Yes, yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as your own orgasm built within you.
Your nails dug into the surface of the desk even harder now as Thomas continued to drive into you with an almost brutal force. Each thrust sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body, your breasts bouncing in time with each stroke.
"Yes, Tommy! Oh god , I'm gonna cum!" You screamed as your orgasm tore through your body like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him.
Thomas's thrusts became erratic as he too, found his release, his hot seed filling the air around you as he pulled out and used his hand to finish the job.
You collapsed back onto the desk, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Thomas leaned over you, his arms braced on either side of your head as he caught his own breath.
"Fuck, Love," he groaned before, suddenly, you were being interrupted by one of the maids.
The sound of a knock on the door broke through your haze of pleasure, and Thomas quickly pulled away from you with an annoyed expression on his face. You each gathered your clothes and Thomas barked, not bothering to conceal his irritation at being interrupted in the middle of such an intimate moment.
The maid, a young girl with mousy brown hair and a pinched expression on her face, looked at the ground as she spoke, knowing exactly what you had been doing, 
"I'm sorry to disturb you, sir, but there's a matter that needs your immediate attention."
Thomas sighed heavily and rubbed his temples with his fingers. he asked, his voice clipped and impatient.
"It's the new shipment of whiskey, sir," the maid replied nervously. "The delivery driver says it was damaged during transport, and he refuses to hand it over until you inspect it yourself."
The maid's statement caught Tommy by surprise. "Y/N, go upstairs!" he ordered you in a way he had not spoken to you before.
"Excuse me?" you asked, annoyed with the way Thomas had spoken to you. You were still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm and, frankly, the last thing you wanted was him to snap at you like this. It was unlike him. 
Thomas let out a long-suffering sigh. "I am sorry Y/N. I shouldn't have spoken to you like this, but I need you to go upstairs and stay there. Please," he added as an afterthought, his voice softening.
"Fine ," you muttered, annoyance tingeing your voice as you slid off the desk and started to pull your panties back on, pulling them up beneath your dress. 
You couldn't help but feel irritated at the interruption, even more so at the tone Thomas had used with you. 
But you shook it off, reminding yourself that Thomas wasn't like that. He cared for you deeply, and you cared for him just as much. Maybe he was just having a stressful day.
When you arrived in the bedroom you shared with Tommy now however, you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on. A whiskey delivery at 10 o'clock seemed absurd and, with that in mind, you pulled aside the curtains and peaked out of the window .
Tommy was already standing outside, talking to a somewhat scary looking truck driver. But something was off. Tommy looked tense, his shoulders rigid and his expression stern.
The driver seemed to be making wild gestures, his hands waving around erratically as he spoke. And then, you saw it when the stranger opened one of the boxes on the back of his truck.
Inside there was no whiskey however, but instead, you saw something black, something that looked like rifles. A lot of rifles.  Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Was this some kind of arms deal? And if so, why would Thomas be involved in something like that?
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hotchs-big-hands · 16 hours
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I think the full nelson from him would fix me (I would stop being a brat for the rest of the night and then be bratty again the next day)
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