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#tommy imagines
mydear-corinthian · 1 month
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phone call
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synopsis - tommy receives a phone call in the middle of having sex with his wife.
pairing - tommy shelby x reader / thomas shelby x reader
warnings - SMUT +18, rough sex, use of foul language, breeding kink, praising kink, creampie, just full of porn, unprotected sex, p in v
notes - short (w.c <850), gif and picture isn't mine, divider is mine
main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist
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His hands explored every inch of your sensitive body with a satisfying touch that sent shivers down your spine. There was an irresistible affection between the two of you that was endless. Your breath caught as his dominant, wild hip thrusts into yours, causing hectic, unrestrained moans with every thrust.
"Oh my God- yes, Thomas!"
As he pushed you farther into the mattress, his weight and heat surrounded you as you lay beneath him, your bodies linked. He drew closer as your legs coiled around his hips, stretching you in the most delicious way as he slid deeper with each thrust. Tommy started to breathe hard, his chest heaving as sweat collected on his forehead and trickled down to mix with the heat from your smooth skin. He met your gaze with lust and something deeper than that.
"Yes, baby.. fuck- you take me so well.. so fucking well," he praised on your ear as he rested his head on your neck, his deep thrusts not stopping.
The telephone on top of the nightstand beside your shared bed rang loudly. Your husband stopped, looking at the phone near him.
Who the fuck is calling at this hour?
Tommy picked the phone up, not leaving the bed.
"Thomas Shelby." he answered.
You expected him that he would draw away and stop, especially when the phone rang. He stopped and reached for it, and you felt upset. Tommy, though, chose to stay still and answered the phone with one hand while tightening his grip on your waist with the other and suddenly thrusting his hips forward once more.
His thrusts continued to shock you, causing your body to tense in surprise, but before you could respond, pleasure took over. His cock sank farther, each malicious movement finding that exact spot. You ended up speechless by both of his soothing phone voice and the way he caused your body to react to him.
"What ha-happened?" Tommy asked over the phone, his breathing heavily telling each question with a struggled and unsteady voice. He attempted to keep his composure, but the force of his motions made it almost impossible as his chest rose and fell quickly. As he tried to concentrate on the talk, you could feel his heart thumping against your body and his breath rapid and hot against your skin.
Tommy looked at you, a smirk painted on his face. With his free hand, his fingers toyed with your hardened nipples, brushing them and squeezing it.
"Tomm-" you covered your mouth immediately as you nearly moaned his name out loud, afraid of whoever is on the phone hearing that Tommy is fucking his wife at the moment.
"Yeah, I'll handle that tomorrow morning," his voice was deep making you feel wetter and wetter. A familiar feeling coiled down through your stomach.
"Tommy, I'm so close," you quietly moaned. Your fingers gripped the silk bedsheets tightly as you felt your high coming.
The room was filled with the constant sound of your bodies meeting, the heat between you growing with each slap of flesh on skin. Your thoughts were taken over by the intense pleasure that was shooting through your entire body as your eyelids fluttered closed, buried in a fog of ecstasy. You vaguely heard Tommy drop the phone somewhere in the distance, but it didn't really matter. The way he grabbed you closer and pounded your hips with such merciless pace that every thrust sent shivers of pleasure through your entire body was all that mattered. Heavy intakes of breath from him, merging with your groans as he pushed you both to the edge.
"Good girl, yes, yes.. Finish on my cock."
Tommy experienced the same closeness as your cock clenched all over it. With a deep moan, he raised your right leg to his shoulders. He treated you like the most precious gemstones that thieves like him could take. Tommy groaned and praised as his head rolled back.
"D'you want me to cum inside you? Breed you? Make you mine?"
"Yes, yes! Fill me up, sir! Please!"
His back was scratched by your nails, and in a few hours, scars will definitely begin to appear. You groaned, breasts bouncing and the bed creaking with every pound.
And then, after a few more thrusts, he smashed deep inside of you until he poured all of his seed into your abused and tight walls. It was warm and filled. Tommy groaned loudly and pleased, then rested his head on the side of your neck to inhale yourself. He waited until every last drop of his cum filled you before pulling out.
As soon as he pulled out, a mixture of his and your load leaked outside your throbbing pussy. Tommy got up, grabbing a box of tissue and cleaned the both of you up.
"Who was that?" you asked.
"Just the betting shop asking for me to check on something."
"You think they.. heard me?"
"I'm sure they did and I'm glad so that they know how much I fucking please my lovely wife." he chuckled before planting another kiss to your lips.
You gladly kissed him back but the kiss deepened and the both of you know what that means.
Another round.
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cillianhead · 1 year
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this is literally the hottest thing i’ve ever seen in my entire life. i am just sitting here watching it over and over and over and over again… ITS TOO MUCH FOR MY BRAIN TO HANDLE.
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darkshelbyfiction · 1 year
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birthday gift
FOR: THOMAS SHELBY X VIRGIN READER
Warning: Somewhat Incestuous, Virginity Loss, Innocence Kink, Smut
Summary: You are Tommy Shelby's adult stepdaughter. On your birthday at Arrow House, he comes to your room and tells you that he has a special gift for you, but you cannot tell your mother about it.
Note: All Characters are over eighteen!
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The ticking of the clock echoed softly in the dimly lit bedroom, marking the passage of time on your birthday night and marking it two years since you moved to Arrow House with your mother Sarah who now was married to Thomas Shelby, the infamous leader of the Peaky Blinders.
You lay curled beneath the sheets, your heart beating rapidly within your chest. You could not shake the uneasiness and excitement gnawing at your insides.
What did your stepfather mean when he wanted to give you a special but secret gift for your birthday, you wondered?
You remember how, over dinner, he leaned forward and stared at you intensely before finally saying, "I have something very special planned for tonight. Something you cannot tell your mother about." It left you feeling both curious and apprehensive at the same time.
But you couldn't resist him, not after all these years of seeing his intense gaze and admiring his muscular body. So, you agreed to meet him at midnight, in your private chambers, so that he could give to you whatever it was he wanted to give to you.
And now, here you were, lying awake in your bedroom, wondering what would happen next.
The sound of the door opening interrupted your thoughts. There he stood, dominant and enigmatic in his black pants and a shirt, a subtle smile playing on his lips. He closed the door gently behind him and crossed the room, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Hello, Sweetheart," he said softly, his voice carrying an undertone of warmth and reassurance. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he approached the bed.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, his large hands settling on your shoulders lightly as you too sat up, revealing your modest nightgown to him. 
With tenderness, he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"You said that you had something special planned for me tonight," you started nervously, trying to formulate your question. "Will I need to get dressed for that? Will you be taking me somewhere?" you asked, but Tommy shook his head. 
"That's right, sweetheart. I have something special planned for you, but it does not involve us leaving the house," he replied softly, his eyes still holding yours with their intensity.
"So, what do you have planned then, Tommy?" you asked curiously with your cheeks blushing in several shades of red and pink. 
"I want to make you feel really good Y/N, would you like that?" your stepfather announced. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, and an even deeper blush crept across your face as you nodded hesitantly. You knew deep down that something about this was wrong, but the thought of pleasing him as well as the attraction you felt towards him overwhelmed any doubts.
Tommy shifted closer, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist, pulling you against his firm body as, still, you were sitting next to him, just much closer now. 
"Has another man ever made you feel good down there?" he asked gently, running his fingers over the naked flesh of your thighs, all the way to the area beneath your nightgown.
You swallowed nervously, your cheeks reddening even further. You hadn't ever discussed such things with anyone before, especially not with a man like your stepfather. 
"No, no one," you admitted, finding yourself answering truthfully, your voice wavering slightly. "No, nobody has ever touched me there." You watched his expression change from curiosity to relief, his eyes searching yours for understanding.
"So, no one has ever touched your pussy, eh?" Tommy clarified, his voice gentle yet commanding. 
"No" you confirmed, feeling the nervousness building up inside you. You didn't quite understand why you were suddenly feeling anxious, but you realized that this was something different from the other experiences you had shared with your stepfather. You felt vulnerable, yet excited by the prospect of discovering new sensations together.
"Would you like me to touch your pussy?" Tommy then inquired gently, stroking your hair once more to calm your nerves. Your heart raced, and your palms grew clammy with anticipation.
Nodding timidly, you gave a hesitant, yet enthusiastic affirmative. Your eyes locked with his, conveying trust and eagerness.
"Good," he murmured, bringing his hand to your waist, his fingers grazing the smooth fabric of your nightgown. "It will feel nice, I promise," he told you as, with tender precision, he slid the fabric aside, exposing your delicate thighs to the cool air.
"Spread your legs a little, Sweetheart," Tommy said and, after you reluctantly complied, he slowly slipped his hand into your panties, his finger making contact with your virgin cunt.
"Relax," he cooed, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead as he still sat next to you, gently touching your sensitive folds.
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Sweetheart. I won't hurt you. I will just make you feel good, eh?" His voice was reassuring, his touch tender, and you found yourself calming down under his guidance.
"Does it feel nice?" your stepfather then asked gently, his finger continuing to stroke your inner folds, evoking sensations you had never experienced before. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes, and focusing on the sensations coursing through your body.
"Yes, it feels strange but nice," you admitted softly, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze.
"Good girl," he reassured you, a warm smile on his face as he continued to run his fingers over your cunt gently before, finally, removing them and bringing them to his lips.
He tasted your essence and smiled. "See, you are already getting wet for me too," he said while using his soaked fingers to gesture towards your moistening panties. 
Your face flushed crimson, and you turned away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"Why am I getting wet?" you asked quietly, feeling embarrassed.
"Because your body is responding to my touch Sweetheart. It wants more if it," he explained, his voice warm and comforting. "It's a natural reaction."
As he spoke, his hand continued to caress your inner thigh, drawing circles on your soft skin.
"Just relax and enjoy it," he advised gently, his tone reassuring as his fingers dipped back into your folds, gently circling and teasing your budding entrance. You moaned in response, your body relaxing slowly, giving into his touch. 
"Can I have a look at your pussy? I would really like to see it," Tommy eventually whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 
"Okay, but just quickly," you nodded, taking a deep breath to steel yourself.
"Okay Sweetheart. How about you take off your nightgown and panties for me and lie down. I will only have a quick look, eh?" Tommy said, his voice filled with anticipation.
"Okay, Tommy," you replied, carefully removing your nightgown and panties as your stepfather had instructed.
Lying down on the bed, you felt exposed and vulnerable, but Tommy seemed to sense your discomfort. With his gentle touch, he lifted your leg onto his shoulder, positioning your entrance at eye level.
His eyes traced every curve and fold of your pink, wet flesh, a mix of desire and admiration flashing in his eyes. "This is beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
Tommy then kneeled by your side and touched your wet folds again, his eyes hungry with desire.
"Can I have a look inside?" Tommy asked softly, leaning closer. Your eyes widened in surprise, but you nodded hesitantly, unable to say no to him. He gently placed his finger on your labia, testing your readiness. 
With two fingers, he then opened you up, exposing your inner flesh to his gaze gently by parting your lips and saying, "I am going to put one finger inside you now, Sweetheart," his eyes glazed over with lust. 
You trembled, a mixture of fear and arousal coursing through your veins. You felt the gentle pressure of his index finger as it pressed against your tight entrance, gradually working its way inside you.
"Is this alright, Love?" he asked, his voice full of concern. You nodded, trying to stay composed as the sensation of having something foreign inside you sent shockwaves throughout your body.
"Is this, okay? Can I go a bit deeper?" he repeated, making sure you were comfortable with his ministrations.
"Yes, it's fine. You can go a bit deeper I think," you replied, trying to maintain composure.
The feeling of your stepfather's finger inside you was both alien and enticing, sending waves of excitement coursing through your body.
"I can go even deeper if you wish, past your hymen," he offered gently, his fingers probing further within you. You hesitated, unsure of how far you were willing to go. "Only if you're ready," he added, assuring you of his care and respect.
"I don't know," you stammered, your breath catching in your throat while Tommy withdrew his finger from your wet folds.
"That's fine, Sweetheart," he said, before making another inquiry. "Perhaps I could kiss you down there for a while? That will help you relax," he said gently, leaning closer.
You hesitated, feeling torn between your instinctive response and your trust in him. Ultimately, you nodded hesitantly, allowing him to continue.
Soon, his lips brushed against your sensitive folds, exploring the terrain with his tongue. The sensation was foreign yet inviting, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.
"Do you like that?" he asked softly, his mouth lingering against your sensitive flesh.
"Yes," you breathed out, your heart racing as his touch became more intimate.
"Do you want more?" he asked gently, his thumb gliding along your sensitive folds, eliciting sensations you had never experienced before.
You nodded, tentatively giving in to his guidance. As his fingers teased and explored your inner depths, he positioned himself between your legs, his eyes seeking approval from you.
"I want to taste more of you, Sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes reflecting a mix of tenderness and hunger. You hesitated, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.
"What should I do?" you asked, looking into his eyes for guidance.
"Just relax and let me make you feel good," he replied, his voice soothing. 
With gentle ease, he lowered his head and began kissing and suckling your most intimate parts, evoking sensations that sent ripples of pleasure through your entire being.
As he explored your folds with his mouth, you couldn't help but let out small cries of ecstasy, reveling in the novelty of the experience.
His tongue danced along your inner walls, evoking feelings you had never imagined possible. In that moment, you knew that you wanted more, craving the unique blend of pleasure and vulnerability that his touch provided.
"You are incredibly responsive," Tommy complimented you, the tip of his tongue darting across your sensitive flesh.
"It feels amazing," you confessed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you tried to hold onto the intense sensations coursing through your body.
"I didn't know it could feel like this," you whispered, your breath hitching in your throat. "And it makes me want more," you confessed, the words tumbling out of your mouth in a mixture of wonder and arousal.
Tommy pulled away slightly, his face filled with pride and satisfaction at having brought you to such heights of pleasure. "It is an incredible experience, isn't it?" he said softly, stroking your cheek with his hand.
"Yes, it is amazing Tommy. Is that what you do with my mum?" you asked, feeling a sudden burst of curiosity.
"No, we do things differently, Love" he assured you gently, his eyes reflecting a mix of love and respect for your mother. "But it's time for you to explore these sensations," he said, his voice warm and reassuring. His hand returned to your folds, his fingers gliding effortlessly through your wetness, teasing and pleasuring you. The sensations were unfamiliar yet intensely gratifying, causing your body to respond with increasing fervor.
"What do you do with her and the other women you visit?" you asked, your curiosity piqued by the intensity of the sensations he had brought forth in you.
"Well," he began, thinking of the right words to say before simply telling you straight-out, "I usually put my cock into their holes, Love." 
"Into here?" you asked, touching your cunt while feeling intrigued and yet nervous at the thought.
"Yes, Love. It goes in there sometimes, and it feels really nice when it is inside," he replied gently, his hand expertly moving your hand out of the way and stroking your folds as he talked.
"Would you like me to do this to you?" His question took you by surprise, sending waves of nervousness and curiosity coursing through your body. "I think you would enjoy it," he said, smirking slightly. 
"Uhm, I don't know Tommy. Can I see it first? Your penis, I mean," you said, your curiosity growing.
Tommy smiled, understanding your hesitation.
"Of course, Sweetheart," he replied, sitting up and undoing his trousers. He revealed his erect member, which was already dripping with precum. It stood tall and proud, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.
"It's big," you said, your eyes fixated on his impressive length.
"Not too big, just right for you," he replied confidently, his voice filled with pride. "I think you will find it pleasurable, if you let me put it into you." 
You looked up at him, still feeling uneasy but intrigued by the idea of experiencing something new. "Will it hurt?" you asked, a slight quiver in your voice betraying your apprehension.
"Only at first." He assured you gently.
Your eyes traveled from his erection to his face, searching for reassurance in his gaze.
"Okay, yes, you can put it inside me. But just for a little bit," you finally agreed, your voice wavering with uncertainty.
"Good girl. I will be gentle. Now, how about you lie down for me, eh?" Tommy suggested, helping you get into a more comfortable position.
You obeyed, lying down on your back, your breath coming in short gasps as you awaited his next move.
Tommy undressed quickly and then positioned himself between your legs, his eyes filled with desire as he looked upon his prize. He reached down and tenderly caressed your cheek, smiling reassuringly.
"Are you ready to become a woman, Sweetheart?" he asked, his voice deep and full of anticipation, and you nodded hesitantly, steeling yourself for the unknown journey ahead. 
Tommy positioned himself between your legs, his large member teasingly close to your entrance. Slowly, gently, he pushed inside you, guiding himself with careful precision. Your eyes widened in astonishment as he entered you, filling you with his presence. His gaze locked with yours, a mix of concern and adoration evident in his eyes.
You gasped, overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness, yet yearning for more. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, both from the intensity of the sensation and the emotional weight of the moment.
"Am I hurting you?" Tommy asked gently, his own breath quickening in anticipation. "Yes," you replied, surprised by the intensity of the sensation, yet eager to continue. "But just a little. Please keep going," you urged, wanting to overcome the initial discomfort and fully embrace the sensations. Tommy nodded, his eyes softening with affection as he adjusted his position, ensuring maximum comfort for both of you.
"You are very tight, Sweetheart. Much tighter than your mother," he said appreciatively, his brow furrowing with concentration as he began to move inside you.
"It hurts a bit," you admitted, wincing as the sensation intensified. "Is it normal?" you asked, feeling both embarrassed and concerned.
"Of course, Sweetheart. It is normal. You have never done this before," he replied, his expression mirroring a mix of tenderness and understanding. "It's natural. Just take your time, and remember to breathe deeply, eh," he instructed, guiding you into a slow rhythm that helped steady your breathing.
"There, that's it. Let go of any tension, Love," he murmured, his voice soothing your nerves. With each thrust, you could feel the pressure gradually dissipating, replaced by a wave of unexpected pleasure. The feeling of fullness engulfed you completely, sending shivers down your spine.
Despite the pain, you found yourself becoming aroused by the intensity of the sensations.
Each movement by Tommy seemed to increase the pressure, pushing you closer to the edge of pleasure. Your body began to arch and writhe beneath him, craving the release of the building tension. Your moans filled the air, signaling your increasing need for fulfillment.
Tommy noticed your response and adjusted his pace accordingly, his movements becoming more deliberate and focused. The sensations intensified, igniting a fire within you that burned brightly. Your cries of ecstasy echoed throughout the room, causing your body to tremble in anticipation.
The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you entirely. Your body convulsed underneath Tommy, unable to resist the urge to come. As the peak approached, you felt the world around you spinning, your vision turning black as your mind succumbed to the all-consuming bliss.
Finally, the climax came, washing over you in a tidal wave of pleasure. Your muscles contracted involuntarily, pulling Tommy deeper into you.
He groaned in satisfaction, his hands grasping your hips firmly until he could not hold it anymore. 
With a final surge of power, he gave one last thrust, coming deep inside you, his entire body shuddering with ecstasy. 
"What just happened?" you asked, your eyes wide with shock. Your body still trembled from the overwhelming sensations, your mind trying to process the experience.
"You just had your first orgasm," Tommy answered gently, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "I am glad I could give that to you, Sweetheart."
"I didn't expect it to feel so good," you admitted, your voice still shaky from the intensity of the moment. "But I really liked it."
"I promised, didn't I, eh?" Tommy chuckled as he pulled out of you and with him came a thick stream of sticky liquid which ultimately leaked onto the sheets beneath you.
"What, uhm...what is that?" you asked, your eyes fixed on the fluid that had just come out of you when Tommy pulled his cock out of your cunt. 
"That's called cum, Love," Tommy explained gently, using a clean towel to wipe the excess fluid off your body. "It happens when a man orgasms. It's normal, so don't worry, eh."
He cleaned you thoroughly, making sure to remove any traces of his essence. He then wiped himself clean with a towel, disposing of it neatly in the bin.
"Now, Love, I think you should rest. I believe you have gone through quite an experience today," he said, his voice full of fatherly concern. "I want you to lie down and sleep for a few hours. And tomorrow, we will talk some more, eh?" Tommy said, planting a kiss on your forehead. "But remember, all of this needs to stay our little secret. Your mother cannot find out about this," Tommy reminded you, his voice stern and protective. "Promise me."
"I promise," you said solemnly, pledging your loyalty to the secret they were sharing.
"Good girl," Tommy replied, relieved. "Now, get some rest, Sweetheart." 
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your-nanas-house · 3 months
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Sweet treat
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◇ Pairing: Stepdad!Thomas Shelby X stepdaughter!Reader
◇ Warnings: SMUT, stepdad x stepdaughter, they both off age, cheating, sweet words.
◇ Summary: Thomas needs a bit of a sweet treat after a rough and long day at work.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. Took me ages to finish this, sorry for the wait... been quite stuck and busy lately. 🙏❤️
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"Darling..." his low sweet voice called as his rough hand brushed away the hair that was on Y/n's face.
It was still dark when the young woman opened her eyes, still half asleep and a bit confused of what was happening due to the deep sleep she previously was in.
"That's my princess," the voice cooed almost mockingly and she could feel the callous hand move on her neck now... against her warm skin.
She knew too well what was going on but her groggy mind didn't allow her to fully take in what was surrounding her.
Almost reflexively a small smile appeared on her face when Tommy's lips kissed her forehead tenderly, the fingers of the sinner now moving the fabric of her nightgown off her shoulder... exposing her tender body to the cool air of the night.
His extension at work that day meant only one thing... he was searching something specific from her... and it was urgent since the man woke her up just for that.
He usually didn't wake her up on purpose... but he made an exception just in those desperate nights.
"Wake-up for daddy, sweet girl" his accent thicker than usual, she could tell it clearly when his low raspy voice pulled her completely back into reality.
The young woman inhaled sharply as soon as she felt the contrast of the tender caress on her cheek and the dirty feeling of Thomas' throbbing boner which was pressing down her lower stomach.
Her tired eyes flattered open for the second time, wandering slightly confused before meeting her stepdad's light piercing eyes and his towering frame.
Sleepiness was still blinding her mind and she needed to get fully awake to understand completely what was happening— but her body reacted faster than her mind.
"There she is. Good girl" Thomas hummed at the view, removing skillfully his shirt before opening his pants as well, pulling them down with his underwear.
The only light present in the room was the little candle he brought there and the soft smoothing light of the moon, which made her understand that it was still pretty early to actually wake up and start the day... and her mom was probably still in her own bed.
The girl could really feel now the rough circles that her stepdad was doing on her clit through her panties, which made her body jolt slightly in pleasure and bite automatically her bottom lip to be quiet. He always liked that she was so responsive for his touch and his praises. It made it easier to get her wet and go to the main part quickly when he needed.
"Tommy—" the young woman nearly whined out as she spread her legs wider to indulge in that pre-orgasm sensation which was the amazing path of the perfect stimulation of her body caused by various factors. Like his tongue swirling now around her hard nipples, mixed with the rough massage her clit was undergoing and his calloused free hand which was busy kneading her flesh.
"Had such a.... fookin'... shit.. of.. day..." Thomas revealed between open mouth kisses, never stopping to work on her so to get her ready for him as he continued to ramble about what happened.
Sadly he had little patience that night so as soon as her smaller body shook due to the orgasm, which hit her like a train, he sucked his fingers clean and easily manhandling her into a position he liked.
Lay down on her belly, ass up and hands flat on the sheet so that the man could easily reach for them.
The young woman's head was resting on the soft pillow, her breathing was heavy as she heard just the soft sound of the fabric moving and the cracking of her bed. She didn't dare to look and check on what her stepfather was doing, opting to behave and close her eyes as she waited patiently.
Thoughts swam in her head, making her bite her bottom lip inconsciously as her body kept buzzing from her earlier orgasm.
Her mom was still in the other room and there were so many maids they could have been easily caught if they wouldn't have paid attention.... not that Thomas was worried about it. In contrary, it was quite exciting for him— for them.
"Always so good for me, luv" The man's low and raspy voice interrupted the silence as the tip of his cock teased her entrance, thrusting carefully in the tip a couple of time to make her relax a bit before the definitive push which made her nearly scream and take his lenght all at once.
Tommy's rough hand flight to her mouth, covering it completely as he slowly pulled out, after waiting to allow her to adjust, enough to leave just the tip inside before thrusting harshly back in.
"So good" he breathed out with a grunt, continuing with his slow but rough movements not caring about her at all now that he had manage to be deep balls in her cunt
"You like it, love?" he asked breathlessly, as his hand sneaked to her chest so that he could play with her perky tits while still keeping one on her mouth to prevent her to be too loud.
It was perfection, Thomas loved those moments with her... his wife was nothing compare to Y/n. His sweet Y/n.
The bed kept cracking at each rough thrust he did, nearly covering the sensual noises of their skin slapping together as his hips snapped forward hitting her joggling ass.
Their body were covered of a thin layer of sweat which started to soak the bedsheets as the time passed and Thomas's cock kept bullying her warm walls inside, his tip hitting her g-spot roughly a couple of time before sending her over the edge.
He didn't stopped at all, rather he increased the speed now that his own control was slipping away since his dick was being milked by his stepdaughter's tight pussy. One thrust, two thrusts, three— and his body tensed, his hips pressing flat against hers and his lenght deep inside of her so not to dirty the sheets with the warm thick load that was filling her up.
"You're fookin' amazing, love. Daddy really needed it" the older man praised in a breath, his hips rocking in lazy swings before he finally let himself collapse on her smaller body— caging her in a hug till early morning.
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peaky1wh0re · 5 months
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Smash.
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call-sign-shark · 9 months
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Of Bending and Breaking || Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Summary: Always being the one who cares for others comes with a price: you break down, but the most unexpected person is here for you: Tommy, the man you were forced to marry.
Words: 2,3k
TW: Hurt/Comfort, very tiny mention of past sexual assault, no proofreading 'cause it comes from clearing my drafts.
Notes: Aunt Isabella's is a tribute to my own aunt Isabelle who, unfortunately, died because of cancer a few years ago.
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It all started with Polly shaking Tommy like a tree, her thin hands firmly grabbing his nephew’s broad shoulders: “You can’t keep sabotaging yourself like this, Tom.” These were the words that left her quivering lips as she dragged his staggering frame to the bathroom and pushed his face into the bathtub right under the tap. When the freezing water splashed all over his neck, Tommy opened his blank eyes wide and inhaled sharply, as if he had suddenly come back to life. Since Grace’s awful death, the gangster was the shadow of his former self. When he wasn’t waging a senseless war with Father Hughes and the Italian, or when he wasn’t keeping his buzzing mind busy with work, Tommy usually numbed himself with a deadly combination of whisky and opium until his deep-seated pain became bearable. It was the night he almost overdosed that Polly decided to take charge of his nephew and found him a new wife, in the hope of soothing his nephew’s mind and finding a mother figure for poor little Charlie. The idea had obviously sent Tommy in a fit of anger but Polly Gray couldn’t care less.
Regarding your own situation, it was not the opium nor the loss of a dear lover that had led you to Birmingham’s most dangerous man but rather the bump in your belly. Aunt Isabella had understood what you were suffering from the moment you had stormed out of the vardo to throw up your breakfast in the nearest bush. The tall and lean woman, whose light brown and curly mane danced in the cold autumn wind, had looked at you right in the eyes and raised one of her thin eyebrows. If there was something pleasant with her, it was that words weren’t necessary.
Yet, later she encountered Polly, with whom she had been a great friend since childhood, and explained that a powerful American man had forced his seeds in you during his stay in England. Not willing to go through the traumatic experience of aborting, Isabella only saw one solution to your problem: you needed a husband who could protect you and your future baby from the evil man with his scarred lip. A wedding would be your salvation. At the realization of what Aunt Isabella had planned for you, you tried to run away from the camp in the middle of the night but she knew you too well and soon caught you, her sly hand firmly grabbing your wrist: “Y/N! It’s for your sake! He’s rich, he needs a wife and he is feared! You’ll be safe with him, don’t you understand?” She explained, cupping your face with her long fingers adorned with claws painted in red and far too many rings. “I don’t need a man to protect me! I don’t need anyone. He’s older and he’s a criminal! Who’s going to protect me from him eh? Have you think ‘bout that?” You cried, the soft light of the sunrise turning your tears into liquid gold.
But still, you wedded him and what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life turned out to be a dull event during which you dissociated the whole time. The only memories you had in mind were two piercing and frightening turquoise eyes staring right at your soul and soft whiskey-tasting lips stealing a quick peck from your cherry lips. A kiss devoid of any form of affection. And then, the groom left.
From what Aunt Isabella told you, your husband had spent most of the celebrations with his brothers, drinking and taking bets outside of Arrow House. Months had passed and still, you felt estranged to this place and its staff. The only moments your heart lightened were when Aunt Isabella visited you, or when Charlie spent time with you, otherwise you remained emotionally closed, trapped in your own mind. Overall you could not complain: You had a house far too big for you with plenty of workers willing to exhaust every one of your wishes. Charlie was a sweet boy, who loved you with all his heart even if you were well aware that you’ll never replace his mother. As for the Shelby clan, they were cordial with you without being really friendly either. And there was Tommy…
Cold and distant Tommy, who you only saw late at night when he discretely slipped under the bedsheet and turned his back to you without uttering a single word. Busy Tommy, whose replies remained concise and spoken with a quiet husky voice each time you asked him something — at least he talked to you a little bit. Trapped in a loveless marriage, that was what you were: Tommy was more a stranger, a mere gust of wind in your life, than the love of your life.
Still, the gangster stayed true to his words and he provided for everything, never refusing to give you money when you asked, and protecting you from the man who had taken your innocence. He even gifted you a wonderful stallion because he knew how much you missed riding. In exchange for his protection and riches, all you had to do was take care of Charlie and do your best to be there for your husband when his darkness threatened to swallow him whole.
You found out about the nightmares shortly after your wedding and quickly decided to do something about it. When he woke up screaming and drenched in sweat after tasting the tunnels’ dirt and Grace’s crimson blood in his troubled sleep, you always cradle him, your fingers losing themselves in his wet dark hair to pet his head gently. At first, you feared his reaction, expecting the infamous Tommy Shelby to push you and not-so-kindly ask you to keep your distance but, to your greatest surprise, he never did. Instead, he would bury his face in your cleavage, panting and trembling, and let you reassure him. Just like he let you bring dinner to him each time he drowned himself in paperwork and forgot to eat. He never commented on your cooking skills though, even if he always handed back empty plates.
The blood on his skin? You cleaned it.
The wounds of his flesh? You never failed to patched them up.
The hole in his heart? You tried to seal it off with caresses, soft kisses, and shoulder massages. Maybe one day he would slowly turn his iciness into affection. Little did you know that he needed it. And by it he needed you. Just like the whole family. How many times did you walk the streets of Birmingham at night, seeking for Arthur and then bringing him home to take care of a wasted and high him? Far too many to keep track. Similarly, you had spent countless evenings helping Ada when she felt overwhelmed, either nursing Karl or cleaning her house when, just like her brother, she overworked herself. And finally, Polly could never thank you enough for everything you did to soothe her mind after the gallows, still haunted by the bite of the hanging rope on her throat.
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“Thanks Poppy.” Arthur muttered, the gravel in his voice coated with shame now that you were down clearing and disinfecting his split knuckles. The oldest brother had started to affectionately call you so for the sole reason that, according to him, you must probably grow better when blood was considering how much you had seen when patching the Shelby siblings. “Sorry for errr… For the mess.” He went on, his steel blue eyes fleeing yours.
“That’s okay.” You replied in Romani, “You, sweet idiot.” Endeared by how surprisingly soft Arthur’s harsh complexions could turn, you couldn’t help but gently put your hand on one of his cheeks. And during this tender display of affection, Arthur was convinced he had caught sight of a smile — a scarce event barely happening on your beautiful but resigned face. Comforted by the warmth of your palm, he leaned into your touch and looked at you through dark lashes, his lids half-closed.
“Tommy’s one lucky bastard to have ya for himself, eh."
"Let's both flee together then." You teased, the familiar tone of Romani language rendered even more melodious by your siren-like voice.
"Don't tempt me, little one." Arthur replied, softer than intended and probably only half-joking.
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The oldest Shelby brother had barely closed the door when your smile disappeared and tears flooded your eyes. Admittedly, spending months of repressing your own anguish didn’t do any good to you despite thinking that focusing on others would have helped. Quite the contrary, all those negative emotions you had left on the back burner turned into a silent and deadly parasite that was eating you up. Dragging your tired frame to the cold and empty marital bedroom, you curled up in a ball in a corner of the room, your bruised knees pressed against your chest, “Positive. You gotta stay positive and push forwards y’see Y/N? Do the right things for the family…” You whispered to yourself as your breath started to quicken for the ball of sorrow in your throat was growing more and more. Yes, you had to smile and say that all was just fine because you knew you were lucky to be here and that you hadn’t any real reason to complain now according to the rest of the world. And yet, the truth was you were tired. So tired and overwhelmed by everything around you. With your wild soul trapped here in the mighty walls of Arrow House, you could not help but drown in an excruciating feeling of worthlessness.
You were lost in a world too difficult for you to understand. Lost and unprepared for a life that asked for too much. When you were living in the vardo with Aunt Isabella life seemed so much easier despite the lack of money and, sometimes, food. Prior to your wedding, she used to tell you that everything would become clear once you’d be a wife and a mother. You’d be an adult adult, you see? But she lied. They all lied. Even with a husband and kids, you still felt like a scared and confused child, who wanted to hide under the blanket of her warm bed and never face the world ever again. These concerns of yours? You never shared because you wanted the Shelby to keep seeing you as a reassuring presence— moreover, God knew how much their broken hearts needed your silent care.
Bringing your trembling fingers to your mouth, you muffled a first sob, convinced it would be enough to keep you from crying. What you didn’t expect was to burst into tears, uncontrollably weeping. After all this time forcing yourself to be strong, your mind had enough. As your heart-wrenching cries echoed in the room they muffled Tommy’s footsteps that were coming closer and closer. When the door flung open, you did not even move, lost in a spiral of pain and psychological exhaustion.
“Y/N?!” Tommy called you, his usual coldness swept away by a surge of panic. He closed the distance between you and him with hastened steps, and put one of his knees on the floor to be at your level, “What’s wrong, ay?” His husky voice asked, worries thickening his Brummie accent even more. You hiccuped and raised your flooded eyes towards him, parting your lips to answer. Yet, as soon as your gaze met his turquoise iris you started weeping again, louder this time. Words were at a loss by dint of never having the chance to express what you felt throughout your life. “Bloody Hell, Y/N! Speak!” Tommy hissed, his heart now drumming in his chest at the sight of his young and always-so-strong wife crumbling in bits in front of him. Never in his life, he had felt so powerless, not even in the tunnels… And, God, he hated it.
“N-nothing. I don’t… I don’t even know it’s just that— I’m so fucking tired, and lost, and confused, and afraid!” You spoke with a very fast pace, spitting years and years of repressed emotions flowing from you all the while feeling deeply ashamed of your mental breakdown. When you were done venting, you simply turned your head and waved off the topic, tears still rolling down your reddened cheeks “Anyway! You’ve got — more important things to do.”
“Stop it, Y/N,” He scolded, low voice rumbling in his chest. His strong and calloused hands, damaged by the war and hard work, cupped your face with a softness you didn’t know he possessed. For the first time in your life, his grip felt utterly reassuring as if you knew these scarred palms were not going to let you fall apart. Never. “You’re what’s important right now.” With that being said, Tommy leaned his forehead against yours and his enchanting eyes soon met yours to force you to focus on nothing else but the vast blue oceans which composed them. “I want you to calm down.”
“I can’t, I can’t—“ You tried to speak but you couldn’t, struggling to breathe under the crushing weight of your panic attack. Your mouth gaped, looking for the oxygen it couldn’t find.
“Oi!” Tommy said louder. So loud that his voice managed to overcome the cacophony of your beating heart and the buzzing sound of your anxiety that filled your head, “I want you to breathe with me, Y/N. Alright? You can do that for me, ay?” He asked, his eyebrows slightly frowned and charming crowfeet appearing at the corner of his eyes — how odd it was to see Tommy’s face veiled with something else than unsettling placidity. Caught off guard by the sudden realization of how close he was, you quieted down a little bit and soon followed the pattern of his breathing.
One long inhale through the nose, one longer exhale through the mouth, and a short pose.
Do it again.
Your shaky hands slowly grabbed his wrists in a desperate attempt to anchor you to reality. This, as well as the focus you had on his mesmerizing complexions.
His long dark lashes — you inhaled slowly.
His cat-like turquoise iris — you exhaled.
His salient cheekbones — You stopped breathing for a very short while.
The myriad of freckles — “Breathe with me, Y/N.”
The soft, hoarse lilt guided you through the dark and thick fog of your own brain, just like a lighthouse. Coming back to clearer waters, your body finally relaxed and fell almost limp in his arms. And once again he caught you, keeping you all safe against his chest. Tommy’s voice, low and steady, resonated one last time in the bedroom with a reassuring warmth as he uttered the simple yet powerful phrase, "I'm here." Each word carefully enunciated, carrying a quiet strength that soothed and reassured, like a comforting anchor in a stormy sea.
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Keep your writers motivated: Reblog and/or comment if you liked it, you filthy animal! o/ English is not my first language btw.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @red-riding-wood
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wenellyb · 3 months
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One of the reasons why the Bucktommy ship is so popular is because they like each other just the way they are.
A lot of romcoms fall flat because we see these cliché characters who are perfect and have no flaws fall in love with each other.
But what a lot of people want to see is characters who are not perfect being loved anyway.
Tommy's sense of humor, isn't for everyone, some people don't get him.
But Buck not only accepts it , he loves him for it. Whenever Tommy dropped a one-liner, Buck smiled or laughed and looked at him with hearteyes. Look at his face after Tommy said "hmm so not like that", "enjoy it while it lasts",...
Buck loves that man's personality and what might seem like a flaw to others is what makes Tommy perfect in Buck's eyes.
Buck isn't flawless either, he might seem needy to some and we all remember the "I'm an ally speech". And even then Tommy still kept flirting with him "Maybe it's me who's making you nervous".
Buck had a whole rant about being an ally while being on a date with a man, and all Tommy had to say was that he was "adorable".
When they went to grab a coffee later that week, Tommy told Buck he had nothing to apologize for.
Buck acted like a jealous teenager and unintentionally hurt his best friend because he was trying to get Tommy's attention. And what did Tommy do? He went to Buck's place to apologize and then he kisses him.
Tommy likes Buck just the way he is.
Buck pouted because Tommy had to leave a Bachelor party because of his job, a party that wasn't even his.
But does Tommy act like Buck is annoying, not understanding or "too needy"? No, Tommy acts like Buck has every right to do it, and even promises him he'll try to make it on time for the wedding.
Buck has had exes tell him he was too needy and Tommy might have had exes who told him he was too broody and here, they've found someone who doesn't complain about these personality traits, but celebrates them.
Bucktommy are giving:
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simplyundeniable98 · 11 months
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look at me t.s.
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Pairing | Thomas Shelby x Female reader
Summary | When Mrs. Shelby requests Tommy in the room with her for the birth of their first daughter everyone is shocked. Men aren't supposed to be in the room with their wives as they give birth, it's just not how it is supposed to be... well all men aren't Thomas Shelby.
Warnings | Mentions of childbirth, pain obviously she's literally giving birth, maybe ooc Tommy? idk. Reader is a little mean to her doctors but she's in pain cut her some slack. MDNI because I said so. Foul language.
Word Count | .06k
~This is loosely based off of the scene in Queen Charlotte when they won't let George into the room to see Charlotte. If you know what I'm talking about I love you~
All dialogue in italics is spoken in Romani.
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"Mrs Shelby forgive me but husbands aren't usually in the room during the birth" The doctor spoke hesitantly as his eyes flicked nervously around the room.
Everyone seemed to speak hesitantly around her. I guess that was what you get when you become a Shelby. Everyone around you is constantly terrified to tell you no or disagree. It was like being royalty in a sort of fucked up way.
Polly Gray cut the doctor a look as she walked over to you and put a reassuring hand on your forehead.
"Polly please" you cried in pain "I need him here." Nothing from the old wive tales could compare to the pain you were feeling. You had been pushing for hours now with Polly at your side but nothing was working. Your daughter simply just would not budge. Polly had made the comment early on about her already showing traits from her father.
"I don't care what usually happens. If Tommy Shelby is not in this room in the next five minutes, I will personally end you." You spoke with a hiss pointing at the doctor.
You weren't usually this aggressive, but given the fact you were in pain and used to getting what you wanted all the time, the circumstances were different.
Polly sighed as she looked down at you and began to head out of the room.
"What's wrong, is she okay?" Tommy spoke immediately as Polly exited the doors of your room.
"She's requesting you Thomas" Polly spoke in Romani so as to not alert the other doctors of your request.
"She wants me in the room with her?" He spoke hesitantly as he looked towards the door.
Polly nodded and Tommy immediately started towards the door.
"I'm sorry Mr. Shelby but I cannot allow you to be in the room." The doctor outside of your door spoke as his eyes flicked down to the floor to avoid Tommy's sharp gaze.
"Tell me, doctor, do you like your job?" Tommy spoke with a raised brow as he waited for his response.
When he didn't reply Tommy bent down to reach his gaze "Hmm? I asked you a question doctor, do you like your job?"
"Yes. Yes I like my job" He murmured still avoiding the sharp blue eyes that were currently staring daggers at the man.
"Well if you intend on staying alive long enough to keep it, I suggest you move out of my way." Tommy stood up straight and tilted his head towards the door.
The doctor nodded and stepped aside, letting Tommy enter the room. "If I hear one more word from anyone about my presence in this room, I will have a peaky blinder on each and every one of your doorsteps first thing tomorrow morning" Tommy spoke before anyone could protest.
"Tommy" you gasped as you finally laid eyes on your husband. "I've been asking for you"
"I know, I know. But I'm here now eh? I'm here now." Tommy bent down to give your forehead a kiss as you winced.
"I cant do this Tommy" you cried "I want it to be over"
Tommy's heart broke at the sight of you. His wife. He wished he could just take all of your pain away and keep it for himself.
Tommy bent down to kneel at the side of your bed as he cradled your face in his hands.
"Look at me. Hey, Look at me, love." He spoke softly as you turned your head to gaze at him with teary eyes.
"You can do this. I know you can. You are the most headstrong women I know, and ill be damned if you give up now." You giggled at his lighthearted teasing and nodded.
"And you don't really have a choice love. This baby has got to come out in one way or another." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes at your husband.
"Okay Mrs. Shelby its time to push" Your doctor spoke as Tommy placed a kiss on the hand he had ahold of and nodded at you.
"Let's meet our daughter Mrs. Shelby."
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willsdreamgirl · 1 year
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“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆。˚
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tommy shelby x fem!reader
you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)
18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut
cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink
word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)
a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌
you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.
you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.
your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.
they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.
everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.
when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.
your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.
a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.
what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”
tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.
a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”
it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.
needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.
when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.
the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.
dearest y/n,
i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?
all my love,
tommy shelby.
you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.
dearest tommy,
to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.
only yours,
y/n.
tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.
that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.
4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.
“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.
after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”
your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”
he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.
he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”
you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”
“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.
things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.
ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.
you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.
he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.
“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.
“mornin’, sweetheart.”
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𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆; 𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒃𝒚
𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; tommy notices your pregnancy before you do
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the night was calm, the moon casting a soft silvery glow through the curtains of the room you and tommy shared. as the streets outside murmured with the remnants of the day, you lay in bed, shifting and turning. the sheets rustled as you tried to find a comfortable position, your restlessness a silent symphony in the dimly lit room.
lying next to you, tommy couldn’t help but notice. his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the way your fingers absently brushed against the fabric of your shy pink nightie.
after a moment, tommy propped himself up on an elbow, his brow furrowing with a careful mixture of annoyance and concern. you glance at your husband, eyes meeting his icy ones in the quiet of the night.
“can’t sleep?” he asked softly, his voice a low murmur that carried a depth of understanding for your situation.
you sighed, a hint of frustration tugging at your tender lips. “it’s like i can’t get comfortable. oh tommy, i’ve been tossing and turning all night.”
tommy reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against yours. “something botherin’ you, angel?”
you hesitated, gaze holding his for a moment longer before you shook your head. “i just … can’t get comfortable,” you whine, pouting your lips.
he opens his arms for you and you lean into his comfortable embrace. albeit, it was much easier to feel lulled with him beside you. it was a delicacy that had become so fleeting within a few months of marriage. usually he'd come to bed after you'd fallen asleep, and woke before you started to stir.
as the silence lingered, tommy’s gaze softened, his eyes tracing the soft slopes of your face. in that moment, a realization seemed to settle over him, piece by piece, like a puzzle coming together.
“love,” he began slowly, his voice a mix of tenderness and curiosity. “i’ve been noticing things lately. changes.”
you met his gaze, your curiosity piqued. “changes?”
tommy’s fingers brushed against your flushed cheek, his touch gentle as he spoke. “you’ve been feeling sick over certain smells, right? complaining about the food in the kitchen?”
you blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden but astute observations. “that’s true.”
“ and i’ve noticed you’ve been tired. more than usual,” he continued, his thumb tracing circles on your skin
you nodded slowly, a mixture of surprise and curiosity dawning in your eyes. “i’ve been struggling to keep my eyes open lately.”
tommy paused, his gaze searching yours before he spoke again, his voice softer. “and there’s the restlessness. tossing and turning all night.”
your breath caught as the realization dawned on you, and you met his gaze with a swirling mixture of emotions.
“tommy, what are you…?”
you trail off as his fingers trace your silky nightie that had once fit just right around your curves but was now becoming snug around your waist. his fingers slid down to cup your gently rounded tummy, his touch light and deliberate.
“your hips,” he said, his voice a hushed murmur. “they’re different now. rounder. as well as your tummy…”
you blushed, your nervous laughter a mixture of shyness and surprise. “oh, so you’ve noticed that?”
you'd figured it had something to do with the way you've been indulging lately. you were thankful your husband chose not to mention your newfound voracious appetite. you were ashamed of how unladylike your eating habits had become, especially on nights when your husband didn't accompany you to dinner.
his gaze held yours, his smile tender as he continued to trace over your softer tummy. “couldn’t very well miss it now, could i?”
tommy’s thumb brushed against your knuckles, his touch a reassuring anchor once he sees you flush at his teasing. “don’t worry, angel, it suits you.”
you smile shyly and bury your face into his shoulder. a moment passes and tommy speaks again.
his fingers brushed against your stomach as he spoke, “i think i might know what’s going on, love.”
a beat of silence passes, then, you realize what your husband could be hinting at.
"yeah?" you breathe, staring into your husband's eyes to confirm your suspicions. you'd figured that you might've been carrying when your monthly had failed to arrive for a second month in a row, but it didn't quite register as a concern until tommy had started to notice.
"i think you're expecting." his words are tender, both of you sharing a moment of silent revaluation.
"tommy..."
you hadn't been trying for a baby, though neither of you were opposed to the idea of children. you'd discussed it on your wedding night, and tommy had promised that he'd give you as many children as you wanted under the humble request that he'd be able to have a year to spend with just his wife before adding any new additions.
“i understand if you’re not happy about this, i know you said you—”you begin to ramble, but get cut off by your husband pressing a stern finger over your lips to prevent any more anxious words from waltzing out.
“shh, love,” he murmurs, “‘m happy about it.” your can feel your eyes fill with tears at his words. mood swings already, you think, how did he notice before you did?
“truly?” you look up into his eyes to see a familiar tenderness, reserved only for you and now apparently your child.
he sighs happily and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead.“truly.”
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pearlessance · 1 month
Text
Three's A Crowd
Tommy Miller x f!reader x Joel Miller
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Summary: Tommy's new girlfriend is awfully sweet. When Joel finds out she's got a big appetite that only he can fill, he decides to satisfy the craving. Warnings: explicit sexual content MDNI, threesome, praise, seduction, age gap(20yrs), size difference, oral sex galore, unprotected sex, photos taken during intercourse, mention of sending nudes, throat bulge, usual smut antics NOTE: i'm not sure if this is actually any good considering it was writen in just a matter of days because i was inspired by the new promo, gabriel luna the man that you are 😵‍💫😵‍💫 !! MASTERLIST [crossposted to AO3]
 Joel Miller knows his brother like the back of his hand. 
Which is why it’s not surprising when Tommy lets him in on the details about his secret new girlfriend. Secret—because you’re the daughter of their most consistent client. 
At first, Joel tells him how stupid it is to risk the company like that. It’s irresponsible to put on the line their biggest cash cow just to fuck around with the only daughter of the man that funds Miller Contracting through the winter. And then there’s the fact that you don't exactly fit Tommy’s type.
A rich girl with an even richer daddy compared to all those wild girls from Tommy’s previous female fixations? It doesn’t line up. It makes no sense in Joel’s head. 
Even as his brother tries to explain, “I didn’t go after her. Not at first. She came onto me.”
Joel’s got one hand on the steering wheel and the other propped on the open window of his truck as they drive home from a particularly exhausting day. He furrows his brows and asks, “Don’t you think that’s a little suspicious? You sure she actually likes you and isn’t just tryin’ to get her daddy’s attention?”
Tommy snorts. “Even if she was, I wouldn't care. You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?”
“Jesus Christ—”
“An’ I mean love, Joel. Not like. Love.” There are stars in his eyes and he knows it’s a serious matter but Joel can’t help the laugh that escapes him.
He thinks it must be high praise coming from his brother who goes home with a different girl every other weekend. “That good, huh?”
“Better than good.” 
And he knows Tommy’s got a one-track mind, so there’s really no use fighting it. So he just says, “Be careful. Don’t go gettin’ caught 'cause the business will pay the price.”
Tommy agrees and Joel lets it go. Doesn’t think about it again, even when Tommy cancels their plans to go out that weekend in favor of your company.
Well, not until he’s standing in your kitchen going over blueprints with your father, that is. 
Joel tries not to glance out of the floor-length windows in the kitchen to the backyard. He tries not to look at the movement in the pool that repeatedly catches his eye. And he tries, really fucking hard, not to allow his attention to linger on the way that white bikini rests so snugly against your chest, or the way your wet hair cascades down your back and sticks to your smooth skin, or the way his cock twitches in his jeans when the impressive swell your ass shakes as you pull yourself up and out of the pool.
He understands his brother a little better when he sees you, Joel thinks. Understands why he’s willing to risk such a high-profit opportunity for the chance to see you underneath him. 
Your father leaves the kitchen to find an old set of blueprints to compare to the new ones, and Joel begins to panic as he realizes this is the moment you decide you’re done swimming. 
When you open the door to the kitchen the hinges creak. Joel takes note of it. 
Water drips onto the white tile floor, the same quick rhythm as the thumping of his heart against his sternum. You cross the kitchen and open the fridge door without even looking at him. 
But Joel certainly looks at you. Can’t help but to, really. You’re like some decadent display as you break the seal of an icy bottle of water and begin to take long, slow drinks from it. Your lips are plush and swollen and Tommy’s words reverberate in the back of Joel’s head. 
You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?
“Thirsty?”
He nearly chokes. Joel knows you’re likely just being hospitable. Kind, even. But he feels like he shouldn’t be speaking to you, not when you’re close to naked and dripping wet. And if not because of your father upstairs, then certainly because of his brother’s affinity for you. So, despite the way his tongue feels like sandpaper in his mouth, he says, “No, thanks.”
Joel turns his eyes back to his blueprints, folding the corner once, twice, trying to focus on anything but the weight of your stare.
If you notice his unease you ignore it as you slide up to the counter beside him and peer down at the layout of your father’s newest home renovation. You’re so close he can feel the heat of your skin, can smell the chlorine in your hair. “Hm,” you say. “This is for the guest room?”
“Bedroom D,” he corrects.
A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips. You turn away from the blueprints, spine resting against the marble countertop in favor of studying him instead. “You’re Joel, right? Tommy’s older brother?”
There’s no sense in lying, Joel thinks. Though he does consider it for a moment. “Uh…yeah,” he says. And then he clears his throat and nods, repeating a little more firmly, “Yeah.”
Your stare is so hot against his skin, eyes unabashedly roaming down the column of his neck. He shivers as your attention lingers on the small sliver of his chest that’s revealed thanks to his decision this morning to leave one of the buttons on his flannel unsecured. You’re standing so close to him now that a drop of chlorinated water falls from the ends of your hair and onto his arm.
Joel feels the cool liquid slide down his too warm-skin, melting as if it were ice, heating to the temperature of his blood that sings in his veins beneath your scrutinization.
He watches your tongue slide over your pretty bottom lip and his breath catches in his lungs. “Hm,” you say again, the sound a little fonder this time. “I see where he gets his good looks from.”
It’s been a long time since someone flirted with him so openly. Even longer since someone your age even took a second glance at him. And even though he knows, by the rule of his own morality, that you belong to his little brother…Joel can’t deny the giddy feeling it elicits in his chest. Can’t deny that he likes your attention, either.
“Found them,” your father suddenly says, bounding down the stairs with folded blueprints in his hand. 
Joel clears his throat and you take a small step away from him, but otherwise seem unphased by the intrusion. He tries to ignore the lingering buzzing beneath his skin, tries to shake off what remains of the electrified energy you’d created.
You greet your dad with a kiss on the cheek and tell him you’re going out tonight. Your father asks with who, and you glance past him, staring only at Joel as you say simply, “Just a friend.”
And he knows you’ll likely be at his little brother’s apartment within the hour. Thinks about preparing himself for yet another of Tommy’s cancellations of guy’s night but this time there’s no frustration on Joel’s part. 
Because he doesn’t blame his brother at all. If anything, he understands a little better now. Understands why getting drunk with Joel at a bar is a far less tempting activity than spreading those pretty thighs of yours. Understands why he’d rather stay home than go out, especially if you’re there in his bedroom on your knees for him. 
His assumption is confirmed later that night when he gets a text message.
Tommy: Have to cancel again. Sorry, something came up.
Joel knows exactly what ‘came up’ and decides to put on an old western movie to distract himself instead.
But when he lays in bed that night, the image of you in your bikini surfaces in his brain and makes a home there. He tries for an hour to get himself to relax enough to shut it out, to just go to sleep.
Eventually, though, he realizes there’s no fucking point in trying. And even though you’re in his brother’s bed and your father’s blueprints are sitting on the kitchen table downstairs, Joel Miller takes his cock in his hand and has the best orgasm of his life. He thinks about your smooth skin and supple curves, thinks about the way that single droplet of water felt against his skin, thinks about your pink tongue and the way you looked at him with such insatiable hunger.
It’s a secret Joel decides he’ll take to his grave.
He tries not to think of you after that. Tries to keep his distance from you, from your house in general. Joel’s not a man who enjoys technology but opts for emailing your father instead of meeting with him to avoid another post-pool incident.
Tommy finally makes it to guy’s night two weeks later but he’s glued to his fucking cell phone. Joel tries to make conversation, tells him about upcoming projects and opportunities for contracts, and mentions that this summer has been their most profitable yet. But Tommy only nods every so often. Giving Joel a stupid, uninterested, “Yeah, for sure,” or “That’s great, Joel,” or “I don’t know, maybe.”
There’s no salt to his words, no meaning other than oblivious agreement. And it starts to anger Joel because Tommy’s been distracted by girls before but never like this. Never so much so that he can’t sit and have half a conversation with his brother. Eventually, he lets out an annoyed sigh and says, “If you’ve got somewhere better to be you can just fuckin’ go, Tommy. Jesus Christ.”
The irritation seems to finally get his attention. Tommy locks his cell phone and says, “She’s sending me pictures, distractin’ me, I’m sorry,” but there’s a stupid ass grin on his face and Joel can feel the insincerity radiating off his brother.
Joel rolls his eyes and waves down the bartender for the check. 
“No, no, okay,” Tommy insists, setting his phone face down on the bar top. He shoos the bartender away and says, “Okay, seriously, you’re right. I’m sorry.” It’s a little more genuine this time, and so Joel decides to meet his brother halfway.
“You really like her? S’that what this is?”
That smile returns to Tommy’s face, eyes glossing over in a mystifying way. He must, because Joel’s never seen him like this before. “We’re not even together,” he says.
Joel’s brows furrow. “What are you talking about? You spend every weekend with her, you might as well be.”
“Believe me, Joel, I’ve tried, man. She’s…I don’t know how to explain it. She doesn’t want anything serious. Doesn’t wanna be exclusive or nothin’ but isn’t fuckin’ around with anyone but me. I just…” he shakes his head and his eyes widen and Joel can see the awe in them. 
“So she’s acting like you,” Joel supplies.
It makes Tommy laugh. But the more he explains, the more Joel starts to believe it. “She’s so sweet but that girl is insatiable. Just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it. Doesn’t care about much else.”
“I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t have fun, Tommy, but don’t let her consume your whole life. Get some space every once in a while,” Joel says. But he understands the infatuation, understands exactly how enticing your company would be. 
He leans in close, one hand wrapped around his whiskey glass and the other tapping the back of his phone. “Those pictures…she’s taking pictures in the shower, Joel. For me. An’ you wanna know what she just told me the other day?”
Joel knows what’s coming next. Knows Tommy’s about to clue him in on something Joel has no business knowing, but he can’t fight off his curiosity. “What?”
“Said her biggest fantasy is a threesome with two guys. Told me, and I quote, that she wants to get fucked while she’s got my dick in her mouth.” He makes a sound of disbelief but there’s this grin on his face that lets Joel know Tommy’s biggest fantasy is to be with a filthy girl like you.
Joel just shakes his head.
But the image his brother paints lingers in his brain for days.
In fact, he’s still thinking about it during his next meeting with your father. Thinking about the fact that you’re up in your room, fantasizing about getting fucked by two guys at once when your dad suddenly says, “I’ll be out of town for a couple of weeks, I hope you don’t mind I gave my little girl your phone number. Just in case anything goes wrong. It won’t, but I hate being so far away while she’s here alone. I’m sure you understand, being a father and all.”
He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to respond, unsure how to explain how terrible an idea that is, so he says nothing. Just nods stiffly and begins discussing the renovations for the ensuite of bedroom C. 
Less than a week later, Joel gets a phone call from an unknown number, and his gut sinks because he knows it’s you. He debates on ignoring the call but then begins to worry that something’s actually wrong and puts himself in your father’s position. Thinks he’d be furious, had it been Sarah, if she’d called someone for help and they’d ignored her. 
So, he presses his cell phone to his ear and says, “Hello?”
“Joel? Hi, sorry, I know it’s kinda late. Do you think you could come over really quick? I need your help.”
“Help? With what?” It doesn’t really matter, he thinks. Because he’s already lacing up his boots, phone held to his ear with his shoulder.
“I locked myself out,” you explain. “My dad’s out of town for work and I didn’t grab my key before he left. You have a spare, don’t you? For the renovations and stuff?”
Joel can’t help but wonder where you’ve been for the last few days. Someplace you wouldn’t have needed to come home, it seems. “Uh, yeah, I do,” he says. “I’ll be there in a minute. Hang tight.”
He finds you standing on your front porch with a backpack slung over your shoulder, your phone charger in your hand, and a look of relief on your face. “Thank you so much,” you immediately say. “I swear I never forget my key but I was distracted this time.”
Joel unlocks the front door for you and lets you inside. He lingers on the threshold, saying, “No, it’s fine. No worries at all.”
“Come inside,” you insist, and he can feel the bad decision from a fucking mile away.
“Really, it’s fine. I’ll just—”
“Please,” you interrupt. “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Let me make you something to eat before you go. It’s the least I could do.”
He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t. But he does.
Joel nods, unable to resist you and how pretty the word please sounds in your mouth. He follows you into the kitchen, lingering at the island counter as you drop your bag onto the floor next to the stairs and immediately plug your cell phone into the extra outlet he’d placed into the backsplash per your father’s request during last winter’s renovation. You look over your shoulder at him as you open the refrigerator and ask, “You like grilled cheese?”
“Uh, yeah. I do.” He sits in comfortable silence for a moment, watching the way you move as you prepare the bread and heat up a cast iron pan. Eventually, he finds the courage to ask, “You…uh…were you at Tommy’s?”
He watches as your cheeks redden the smallest bit. But there’s no shame in your voice as you answer simply, “Yes, I was.”
“Figured you’d tire each other out eventually,” he teases.
You laugh softly, and the buttered bread sizzles as you place it into the pan. As you lay the slices of cheese on top of it you explain, “Wasn’t like that. I’m home for the weekend so Tommy can talk to you, actually.”
It surprises him to hear it, in truth. “Me? What for?”
You flush an even deeper crimson. “Uhm…I think it’s better that you hear it from him,” you say.
Joel’s mind wanders to a million places as you dig out a spatula and flip the grilled cheese. But then a terrifying thought strikes him and Joel suddenly asks, “You’re not pregnant, are you?”
“Ew, no,” you say with a laugh. “Believe me, Joel, I like creampies just as much as the next girl but I’m not irresponsible about it.”
This time, it’s his face that warms. Joel swallows hard and sits on the barstool at the island, trying not to think about your inadvertent admission, trying not to imagine it, to imagine how fucking good it would feel to—
“Here,” you say, placing a glass plate in front of him with a perfectly crispy grilled cheese cut diagonally. He’s thankful for the distraction, thankful to convince himself the watering of his mouth is from the food in front of him and not the thought of how you would taste on his tongue.
“Thanks,” he says simply, trying to massage some of the tension from his shoulders. It had been a long day on the job site and he’ll admit to himself only that a grilled cheese and the sight of a pretty girl certainly feels like a treat.
You seem to notice his discomfort and ask, “You okay?”
He nods and takes a bite of his sandwich. It’s the most delicious thing he’s ever had and he tries to hold back his moan to no avail. When he looks over at you, you’re wearing a satisfied grin that only widens when he says around another mouthful, “This is incredible.”
As if it’s the most natural thing in the world, you step up behind him and place your hands on his shoulders. Joel opens his mouth to stop you, to tell you this is wrong, inappropriate—but then you kneed your fingers into the tender muscle, and his eyes flutter closed. 
All argument leaves him as quickly as it appeared, and all he can manage to say is, “Jesus Christ.”
Your quiet giggle is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. And Joel knows he should be thinking of his brother right now, knows he should be thinking of your father, thinking about the fact that you’re just a young woman, twenty years separating the two of you…but all he can focus on is the way your hands feel on him.
They’re warm and soft but clinical in their pursuit, thumbs pressing hard into the muscle that brackets his spine. Your delicate fingers feel like heaven, bringing relief he never realized just how badly he needed.
You slowly massage down his back, pushing against the knots, working them free. When you get to his lower back, he groans when you slip your hands beneath his navy t-shirt. You’re touching him with no barrier and it steals the breath from his lungs.
Never in his life has he wanted to be touched by someone so badly. Never in his life has he enjoyed the feel of another person’s skin against his so much. Your thumbs dig into the sore muscles, working the tension out.
You lean in so close that he can feel the heat of your breath against the shell of his ear as you say, “Will you take your shirt off?”
He’s thankful you’re standing behind him, however. Because it means you can’t see the way his cock stiffens in his jeans.
The words are tempting and seductive and wrong, he knows. He looks back at you and the heat in your eyes takes him off guard. The angle has his mouth so close to yours you’re sharing the same breath.
It’s then he knows just how badly you want him. As much as he wants you.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you say. While you speak, your fingertips trace soft patterns into the skin of his lower back.
Joel knows it’s a bad idea, but he does it anyway.
You step away from him only long enough for Joel to grip his t-shirt at the back of his collar and pull it over his head, laying it on the marble countertop.
And then you go back to your ministrations as if nothing changed; massaging the tension from his muscles, starting low and working your way back up to his shoulders this time. But it is different, Joel knows. Because he can feel the heat of your skin against his and his heart rate picks up, a different kind of tension filling him instead.
But it feels so fucking good that he doesn’t ever want you to stop.
So, he eats what remains of his grilled cheese. Lets you work the tightness from his bones, trying not to hiss in pain when you touch a particularly tender spot in the center of his back. You lighten the pressure there and begin building back up to it slowly, bringing him to heights of euphoria he’d never known existed.
When he wipes the crumbs from his hands and pushes his now empty plate away, Joel knows he should stop you. But he doesn’t, because he can no longer find a reason good enough to say the words. He lets you dote on him in a way he doesn’t deserve and soaks it up while it lasts.
And when you press a sweet, chaste kiss to the top of his spine, Joel feels the energy shift but doesn’t say anything then, either.
Because he likes the way your lips feel against his skin. Even more so than your soft hands.
You do it again, a little higher this time. You kiss the back of his neck and he shivers. He realizes you can see the goosebumps that break out across his skin, because he can feel the smile on your lips as you press another wet, open-mouthed kiss to the junction of his shoulder.
Joel’s cock has never been this hard, he thinks. He’s never wanted someone so badly, has never been so incapable of making the right decision as he is at this very moment.
His breath comes fast and labored as you press yourself to him. You’re not wearing a bra beneath your oversized t-shirt, and he can feel your pebbled nipples against his back. Your hands move forward, circling his abdomen, sliding up and over his chest. He knows he should stop you now, knows this is the beginning of something he can never come back from.
But the two of you are all alone in this big empty house, and how can he deny you? He doesn’t have the strength. Not then you slide pretty, delicate fingers over his soft stomach, through the dark curls that disappear into his jeans.
Your hand is slow in its pursuit but still adamant as you palm the bulge in his jeans. Even through the thick denim, the feel of your hands on him makes him shake. He cock throbs with each gentle stroke, each small movement. “You can tell me to stop,” you tell him. “Is this okay?”
He can’t bring himself to say anything, but the moan that escapes him is answer enough. He places his hands on the edge of the counter and straightens his spine, getting a full view as you undo the button of his jeans and lower the metal zipper at an agonizingly slow pace.
And then you’re slipping a hand inside his jeans, below the elastic band of his boxers, and all thoughts eddy out of his head. He can think of nothing, nothing as you begin to stroke him. Your hands are small, barely fitting around his cock, but you make do with what you have and it’s more than enough.
You pull him out of his jeans completely, and it’s a sight to behold, seeing his cock in your pretty hands. He tries to catch his breath as you pull one of your hands away for a single moment. And when it returns, your fingers are sticky with webs of spit.
This time, when you wrap your hand around his cock, you’re able to stoke him a little easier, the added lubrication allowing for freer movement. You move slowly at first, hands grazing from base to tip.
He watches with reverence as you familiarize yourself with him. When a bead of precum forms at the tip of his cock, you use your thumb to add it to the sticky wetness already in your hands. Joel can feel the smile on your face as you continue to press desperate kisses to his spine, and he knows he won’t last long like this.
Watching you stroke him with both of your small hands, watching you take care of him like this…it’s too much. It’s too fucking much.
So he closes his eyes. Lets himself sink into the moment with you instead, listens to your pretty whimpers as you press your tits against him. He wants to reach around and slide his hand between your thighs but knows better, knows that this is already bad enough.
You tighten your hands around his cock, squeezing a little harder, and he feels his end begin to build at the base of his spine. “Fuck.”
“Does it feel good?”
He tries to breathe slowly, tries to draw it out. But you pick up your pace, stroking him a little faster, and Joel can’t stop the groan that escapes him.
“You make me so wet, Joel,” you whisper against his skin. “I think about you and touch myself sometimes, thinking about how fucking big you are, how good it would feel to have you touch me…how good you’d feel inside of me.”
Your filthy words bring him to the brink. Joel fights it, doesn’t want to finish so fast he embarrasses himself. He wants to see the look on your face, wants to fuck you right here on this kitchen counter that he built.
Joel clenches his fists instead. Stays stone still because he knows if he moves an inch he’ll be giving into these desires. Knows a single shift in position would have him pulling your shorts down your thighs and licking your pussy until he makes you cry out for God. 
But it’s not his place.
It’s not his fucking place, and you’re not his fucking girl.
So he doesn’t move.
You do, though.
Joel tries to catch his breath as you pull away from him, the absence of your touch leaving him cold and wanting. But then you’re nudging your way in front of him, in the small space between his knees and the island, and then you’re lowering yourself to the marble floor.
You ever met a girl that loves to suck cock before?
Slowly, you run your hands over his jean-clad thighs. You look up at him through your lashes and he feels a little like he’s being worshipped.
And when you lean forward, pretty, soft tongue licking the underside of his cock, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself. His resolve withers, and he threads his fingers through your hair but is careful not to rush you.
He lets you take your time, lets you swirl your tongue over the head, lets you taste every inch of him to your heart’s content. And when you finally take him into your mouth, cheeks hallowed out, creating a tight seal around him, Joel’s head falls back in bliss.
You savor it, relish in it, swallowing him down inch by inch. He hits the back of your throat and still you keep going, choking on him, nose pressed against the hair below his navel. With each pass, you begin to bob your head, tongue smoothing over the sensitive tip. You set an insatiable rhythm, drool sliding down your chin.
It doesn’t take him long. His hands tighten in the hair at the nape of your neck and he breaths out, “Fuck, fuck, sweetheart, I’m gonna-”
Your watery eyes meet his and the adoration in them sends him over the edge. Joel finishes at the back of your mouth, your fingernails digging into the meaty flesh of his thighs almost painfully, but you take everything he gives you and swallow it down.
It’s the sexiest thing he’s seen in all his life.
When he finishes, Joel strokes your hair affectionately and you smile up at him with his cock still in your mouth. It makes him laugh, and he realizes how soft and sweet this moment feels. How easy it is. How he never wants it to end.
Slowly, you sit back and begin to stand to your feet. Your lips are swollen and red and glossy, even when you wipe the spit off your chin with the back of your hand.
You cross the kitchen, grab your phone, and make your way to the staircase. “Thanks again, Joel. Can you lock up on your way out?”
He doesn’t understand how you can feel so casually about this. Doesn’t understand how you’re likely texting his brother as if Joel’s cock wasn’t just in your mouth, as if the taste of his release doesn’t linger on your tongue. 
The guilt doesn’t set in until he’s in bed that night. He can’t sleep, because he knows he has to say something to Tommy but knows, too, he’ll likely pay the price of a right hook in reparation. 
At three in the morning he sends a text to his brother; Come over in the morning. Need to talk. Important. 
Joel doesn’t sleep. He lays in bed and thinks of you, as he so often does these days. Thinks about how uncomfortable it’s going to be to tell his little brother that he indulged himself in the pretty little thing he’s been spending all of his time with. He decides he’s just going to say it outright, tell him the truth without beating around the bush, and immediately apologize for it afterward.
Because he is sorry, Joel thinks. Not sorry that he did it, but sorry that it’s hurt people in the process.
How can he come to regret the most gratifying sexual experience of his life? It’s a comfort, to hear some of Tommy’s words echo in his brain. 
We’re not even together.
She doesn’t want anything serious.
It’s like she just wants to fuck and have a good time and that’s it.
Joel hopes his brother feels a similar way. Tommy’s never once indicated he’s ever wanted to settle down with a woman, but…something sits in his gut and twists up his insides. Because as much as he wants to deny it, Joel knows this…knows you are different. What Tommy feels for you is different.
He’s drinking whiskey by ten in the morning for no reason other than to calm his nerves.
And Joel’s thankful for the liquid courage when Tommy finally pulls into the driveway at noon. He comes barrelling through Joel’s front door with a scowl on his face, and for a second Joel wonders if his brother already knows and is here thinking Joel had every intention of keeping this secret of yours.
But when he speaks, Tommy doesn’t seem angry. Just…concerned. “What’s up, man? Pretty ominous text to wake up to. Where’s Sarah? She alright?”
Joel shakes his head and raises a hand between them. “Sarah’s fine, she’s alright,” he says quickly. “Staying with a friend this weekend. Sorry, I guess I should have mentioned it wasn’t a life or death situation.” 
For Tommy, anyway.
With a slow nod, Tommy’s shoulders slump and he drops himself onto the couch. “Alright, then. That’s good. I was worried, came haulin’ ass over here.” It’s then he notices the tumbler in Joel’s hand, half filled with amber-colored liquid. “You good, Joel?”
He takes a seat next to his brother and tries to recite the speech in his head. But nothing comes out. Joel opens and closes his mouth once, twice, and then finishes off the whiskey in his glass.
Tommy’s patient, for what it’s worth. He lets Joel adjust in his seat three different times, saying nothing while he tries to find the courage he’s been building for the last twelve hours.
“I…I, uhm…I have to tell you something an’ I…” Joel shakes his head and squeezes his jaw. “Alright, look. I…did something.”
A quiet, curt sort of laugh leaves Tommy. “I know what happened last night, Joel. She already told me.”
It surprises him. Not that you told him, Joel can’t fault you for that considering he’s presently trying to do the same thing. What’s surprising is that Tommy seems relaxed about the whole situation. Relieved, even.
A million different questions surface on the tip of his tongue, but only one comes out. “What?”
“It’s alright, man,” Tommy says, laying a comforting hand on Joel’s shoulder.
“You’re not…mad? I don’t understand. I let her—”
Tommy’s mouth stretches into one of the widest smiles Joel’s ever seen on his brother’s face. “It was good, huh?”
Joel doesn’t know if saying yes is a good idea. Doesn’t know if a simple three-letter word is sufficient enough for the things you made him feel with that pretty, pink tongue of yours. 
But it seems his thoughts are written plainly on his face. “Fuck yeah, it was,” Tommy says with a laugh. “She called me right after you left her house last night. Told me everything. She makes a mean grilled cheese too, doesn’t she?”
Try as he might, Joel can’t seem to wrap his head around what’s happening. Can’t seem to process his brother’s ease, his indifference. He tries to put himself in Tommy’s place but knows that if it was his bed you slept in for the last week, Joel would be furious to learn you’d wound up on your knees for someone else.
But if that someone was Tommy? His own brother?
Maybe that’s why it’s different. Because Joel would never do something to hurt his brother intentionally. And he knows, too, that Tommy would never do it to him, either.
He trusts his brother with everything in him. There’s not another soul on the planet who knows him like Tommy does. So, surely, he knows that what you and Joel did wasn’t born of malicious intent, right?
“She’s a sweet little thing,” Tommy says quietly, as if they’re sharing a secret. “But that mouth on her is somethin’ else. She’s a talker, through and through.” There’s pride on his face as he speaks. “Said she felt real bad, runnin’ out on you like that, but she’d gotten so wet from just goin’ down on you that I could hear it through the fuckin’ phone, Joel.”
Though he tries not to, Joel begins to wonder what would have happened if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t disappeared so fast to take care of the ache that had settled between your thighs.
It would have been only fair, right? You helped him. He would have helped you.
“She wanted me to talk to you about something, anyway,” Tommy says.
He’d nearly forgotten that you’d mentioned the same thing last night in all the chaos. It piques his interest, because what on Earth could you need Tommy to ask him?
But his answer comes quickly when his brother says carefully, “You remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you what her biggest fantasy is?”
A threesome.
Joel’s standing from the couch and shaking his head before his brother gets another word out. “Have you lost your fuckin’ mind, Tommy?”
“Joel, just listen—”
“Listen to what, man? You got any idea what you’re askin’ me right now?”
There’s a smirk on his face as he stares at Joel from the couch, looking just as comfortable as if they were having a normal conversation about what they should eat for dinner. “I’m askin’ you to fuck my girlfriend,” he says.
Somehow, the word girlfriend surprises Joel more than the rest. It’s the very first time he’s ever called anyone his girlfriend. “I thought you weren’t together.”
Tommy shrugs. “Call it what you will. Does it really matter?”
“Yeah, Tommy, it does matter. Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have feelings for this girl. Tell me this doesn’t mean anythin’ to you, that doing somethin’ like this wouldn’t fuck it all up in a minute.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t lie to you, brother. ‘Course she means somethin’ to me. That’s why I wanna give her everything she wants. And she wants you too, Joel. Is that so bad?”
Joel sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots.
For a second, a single second, he considers it. Thinks about how any price is worth it for a single night with you, to hear the sound of your moans, to feel your warm breath against his neck again. He’d bet you sound real pretty, all filled up with him.
“Don’t trust anyone else to take care of her the way I do,” Tommy says. “No one but you.”
It’s too much. It’s way too much to ask of him.
“You’re insane, Tommy,” he says, grabbing his whiskey glass from the coffee table and escaping to the kitchen to refill it. He wishes he had something a little stronger.
He’s not surprised when his brother follows him to the kitchen. Tommy leans against the archway and says, “You can say no.”
“Good, 'cause I’m sayin’ no.”
Tommy laughs, but Joel thinks there’s no joke to be found. “Just wanted you to know the offer’s there and she’d jump at the opportunity. Y’know, if you change your mind, that is. Ask her about it, if you wanna.”
“I won’t.”
He raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, not tryin’ to push it or anything. You know how to get ahold of me.”
And then his brother retreats, leaving Joel with nothing but his whiskey and his thoughts.
Thoughts that run rampant in his brain. Filthy images of you beneath him, back arched in pleasure, pretty mouth hung open just wide enough for Tommy to slip inside.
How terrible would it be, really? Tommy might have impulsive tendencies, but he seems so sure of this. And if there’s not an ounce of jealousy in his brother, so much so that he offers you to Joel like some sort of prize…maybe there won’t be the repercussions Joel’s afraid of.
Maybe it’ll be as Tommy says. Maybe it would just be a good, safe way to give you what you want, to indulge your wildest desires. 
And it would certainly be an indulgence for him. Just feeling your hands on him had brought Joel bliss like he’d never known. He can’t imagine how much higher he’d feel if he could taste you, if he could finish deep inside of you and not at the back of your throat.
It takes twenty minutes of pacing in his kitchen and another ten of shaking the nerves from his hands before he picks up the phone and calls you.
“Hey, Joel. I was just thinking about you.”
“S’that right?”
“Mmhm. Did…did Tommy talk to you yet? He told me he was going to this morning.” 
“Yeah, sweetheart. He did.”
A strange sort of silence stretches on. He can hear your hesitance and realizes you’re just as nervous as he is. “And? What did you…what did you say?”
He doesn’t have the heart to tell you he declined the offer. Not when it was a no mostly out of fear and unease. “You wanna tell me how this is gonna work?”
You snort and he can almost see the playful smirk on your face. “I think you know how it works, Joel.”
“That’s not what I mean,” he says, but can’t fight off the smile that climbs onto his face and makes a home there. “Brat.”
“Hm, I think I prefer the term princess.”
Joel laughs but thinks the name is real fitting. He can see why Tommy likes you so much—can understand why he wants to give you everything it is that you desire. Everything about you is so playful and carefree and innocent. You’re just so sweet. A tooth-rotting confectionary. 
“I don’t know how it’ll work,” you finally say. “I’ve never done something like this before, but I know it’s what I want.”
Your conviction is reassuring. Both you and Tommy seem certain that this is the path you want to take, no unease to be found within either of you. But it’s not the physical that worries him. It’s…everything else. “An’ what happens if it becomes something more? Sex is just sex until it isn’t.”
He can hear the smile in your words as you ask, “You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?”
“I’m bein’ serious,” he insists. “Tommy feels somethin’ for you. I know it and I think you probably do, too. I don’t want to do this and ruin what the two of you have been workin’ on.”
“You won’t ruin anything,” you insist. “And if…if things do get…complicated, then we’ll just take it day by day. No use in worrying about something that might not happen, right?”
It’s such a naive way of thinking. Joel wishes he wouldn’t have said no so quickly. Wishes, too, that you were a little different. Maybe if you weren’t so sweet, so tempting, he wouldn’t be so worried about ‘catching feelings,’ as you’d put it.
Your voice is quieter as you say, “For what it’s worth, Joel…I like you, too.”
By the end of the phone call, you manage to convince him to consider it. To genuinely give the idea a shot, to weigh all the pros and cons. You promise not to be disappointed with either decision and though he knows the whole thing has been your idea, Joel believes you.
Several days later, Joel stops by with the intent to fix the creaky hinges on the door to the pool. But the moment he steps into the kitchen, Joel forgets all about the task at hand because he can hear your moans echoing through the house.
He follows them like a moth to a flame.
The door to your father’s bedroom is wide open. And in the center of the king-sized bed, covered with gray satin sheets, is you and Tommy.
Tommy’s turned away from the door, but you’re looking right at it. Looking right at Joel, as you bounce in his brother’s lap. When your eyes connect with him, your pace only picks up, your moans only grow louder.
Joel watches, frozen in time, as you chase your release. Tommy swirls his tongue around your pebbled nipple, leaving a trail of wetness in its wake. You thread your fingers through his hair and moan his name but you stare right at Joel.
He can’t breathe. Has suddenly forgotten the process of inhalation. He’s seen you in your bikini but never like this, never completely bare. You’re beautiful, Joel thinks. Beautiful in a godly way; a woman the poets write for, a woman the sculptors display in cathedrals.
You reach a hand between your bodies, circling your clit and arching your back.
The thought doesn’t even cross Joel’s mind that he should leave, that he should give the two of you some privacy. It feels right that he’s here. 
You grind yourself on Tommy’s cock and give Joel the sweetest, most innocent smile as you say, “It’s so big, you’re so deep. God, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”
Tommy grabs at the soft swell of your ass, lifting you just to slam you back down onto his lap. “Yeah? Gonna cum all over this dick, princess?”
I prefer the term princess.
No need to wonder why, Joel thinks.
“Mmhm, yes, yes, right there.”
“Can feel her gettin’ all messy,” Tommy says. “If I knew you’d get this wet ridin’ me in your daddy’s bed I would’ve said yes weeks ago, pretty girl.”
Joel knows the reason you’re all worked up has nothing to do with the location and everything to do with his eyes on you, but he stays silent. Stays still.
Even as he watches you fall apart on his brother's cock and soak the satin sheets beneath him. Even as Tommy does the thing that Joel’s been dreaming about every night for days, filling you up with his release. 
He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t fix the creaky hinges, either.
Joel barely makes it back to his truck before he’s reaching into his jeans to stroke his cock, right there in the driveway in broad fucking daylight.
It only takes a few quick tugs before he covers his hand in sticky ropes of cum. He tries to catch his breath, wiping the mess you’ve made of him onto his jeans and driving home ten over the limit. Before he makes it inside to shower and change, Joel sends a text message to both you and Tommy that reads; Okay. I’m in. My place. Friday night at ten.
He tries not to think about it too much. Tries to go on about his work week like normal, going through the motions of making dinner each night and taking Sarah to school every morning with Tommy in the passenger seat.
They don’t talk about it, though Joel can sometimes feel his brother staring at him a little too long as if there’s something he wants to say. But he doesn’t. They don’t bring it up until after Joel drops Sarah off at her friend’s house for another weekend-long slumber party. 
Tommy says, “I’m gonna take her out for dinner. Do you want to come with us? Could help break the ice a little. Loosen you up.”
He agrees, and instead of going home, they pick you up from your house. You’re wearing a pleated blue skirt that’s a little too short, but Joel thinks you look like something divine. Tommy helps you up into the truck, and everything starts to feel real the moment you’re sitting between them. Joel behind the wheel, Tommy on the passenger side.
You look so small in the center of the cab, surrounded by two brothers who possess nothing but longing for you. Like pretty prey caught in the clutches of two predators.
Joel has to readjust himself in his seat when you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Sweet. “Missed you,” you say. “You look good. You both do.”
He doesn’t comment on the fact that they’re both still in their work attire; dirty blue jeans, sun-faded t-shirts, and muddy boots. He’s surprised to hear your appreciation, considering how put together you always seem to be.
But maybe that’s the appeal for you. The blue-collar archetype. Your daddy probably expects you to marry the son of one of his friends, just another rich boy.
If he could see you now…
Tommy slides his hand to the inside of your thigh and squeezes. “You hungry, princess? Let’s get you somethin’ to eat.”
As much as he hates to admit when his brother’s right, dinner works wonders for Joel’s nerves. The three of you talk the entire time; you tell Joel about your friends and the subjects you’re studying in that fancy college you got into on a full ride. It’s not the one your father wanted you to attend, but it’s the one you wanted.
Even though he knows Tommy has heard it all before, he lets you and Joel have this moment. He sits beside you and smiles at you as you speak, eyes glued to the side of your face and full of adoration. Joel realizes then that he thinks his brother might be in love with you.
He gets it. Thinks it must have been a real easy fall.
Tommy slots himself in the conversation naturally. The two of you clue Joel in on some of your inside jokes and it doesn’t feel weird at all. He doesn’t feel left out like he’d worried he might be, and he doesn’t feel jealous when you steal bites from Tommy’s plate because you steal things from Joel’s, too.
It’s easy. Nothing feels forced, no conversation out of place.
Halfway through the meal, you switch sides of the booth and sit next to Joel instead. You lay your head on his shoulder and he holds your hand beneath the table and it feels right. Tommy smiles at the two of you and carries on with his story as if the dynamic you’ve created has existed for years and not just hours.
When it’s time to go home, Joel finds that his nerves have completely vanished.
Tommy offers to drive. And he’s thankful for it because it allows him to focus on just you.
You take Joel’s hand and lay it in your lap, palm open. He shivers as you trace the lines in his hand. You ask him, “How are you feeling?”
And the answer comes to him easily. “Good,” he says. “Better.”
“Told you,” Tommy says, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. “She’s a real good girl, Joel. Always does as she’s told.”
Even though the sun is setting below the horizon, he can see the crimson that stains your cheeks and it brings a smile to his face. “S’that right?” He takes your chin gently in his hand and forces you to look up at him. “You a real good listener, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, she is,” Tommy answers wistfully. “Why don’t you g’’head and give Joel some sugar, princess.”
You lean into Joel’s side, pressing a kiss to his jaw. It feels good just being close to you, holding you in his hands, but when you touch him, it’s something else entirely. An uncontrollable desire, an unfamiliar sort of decadence.
Joel cradles your face in his big hand, thumb stroking your cheekbone, and gently presses his lips to yours. It’s soft at first, a tender curiosity. He kisses you again, a little more heated this time, and when he flicks his tongue across your bottom lip you grant him access as if it’s second nature. 
His tongue explores yours, tangling together, invading your sweet mouth. Joel thinks you taste a little like honey and a whole lot like fortuity. If you had asked him ten years ago if he’d ever imagined he’d be in this spot, tasting the inside of his brother’s girlfriend’s mouth, Joel would have said it was a delusional thought. 
Yet here he was, cock stiffening in his jeans from something as simple as a kiss. Like he’s some teenage boy, experiencing a woman for the first time.
But it is his first time experiencing you, and Joel knows that’s what makes all the difference. 
The kiss turns sloppy and desperate. And when your panting breaths turn to moans, Joel realizes Tommy’s hand on your thigh has disappeared beneath your skirt.
It surprises him, the magnitude of the moment. Joel would have thought he’d feel jealous somehow, envious that his brother’s touching you and he’s not. But there’s nothing but satisfaction to be found. Joel likes to see the dark look in your eye, likes to see your breath hitch in your throat.
He takes your legs and spreads them wide, draping your thigh over his, giving his brother more room to touch you.
“What do you think, brother? Think we should give her what she needs before we even get home?”
Your face is so close to his that your breath fans across his spit-covered lips as you say so beautifully, “Please, Joel.”
A smirk finds its way to his mouth. “You look so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, sweetheart,” he says. “S’that what you want? Hm?”
You nod frantically, eyes pleading.
“Hold your skirt up, baby,” Tommy instructs. And you do as he says without question, fabric bunching around your hips. 
Joel can’t deny the pleasure he finds in discovering you’re completely bare beneath. Even from his spot in the passenger seat, he can see how glossy your pussy is with arousal, desperate to be touched by both of them. “Oh…look at that, Tommy. She wants it bad, doesn’t she?”
“Always does, brother. Needy little thing. S’why she needs the two of us,” Tommy says. His fingers trail lazily over your slit, a teasing caress. He presses his index finger against your clit and makes a satisfied hum, a sound that comes from somewhere deep in his chest. “Can feel your heartbeat right here, princess. Tell Joel what you want.”
“I want him to touch me,” you say, a little bit breathless. “Want him to make me cum while you kiss me. You taste so good, Joel. You make me so wet.”
The words don’t sound filthy or obscene in your voice, despite how vulgar they are. Joel squeezes your jaw in his hand and delights in the way you grin when he says, “Eyes on me, sweetheart. Wanna see the look on your face when he fills you up with his fingers.”
You’re so pretty, Joel thinks. But it’s nothing compared to the way your pupils dilate as his brother stretches you open. Your lips part and Joel takes the opportunity to crush his mouth to yours, to taste the sweetness you possess. 
He drinks up your moans as Tommy sets a steady pace between your thighs. Joel grabs the back of your knee with a rough hand and spreads your legs further apart. He can hear how wet you are, can feel the goosebumps as they form down the column of your throat.
Joel pulls away from your spellbinding kiss only to catch his breath. “How’s it feel, baby? That feel good, hm? Tommy takin’ good care of you?”
“Yes, yes—mmm—fuck. His hands are so big, feel so fucking good,” you whimper. One hand is clutching Joel’s shirt, holding on for dear life, and you move the other to rest on his cock. You gently knead it over his jeans, and he wonders if you can feel just how hard he is for you.
It doesn’t take long until his brother has you trembling. Your thighs shake and a crease forms between your brows as you chase after the relief you seek.
He kisses you again, tongue brushing against yours, and when you breathe Joel’s name into his mouth he knows what you need before you even ask. 
Slowly, experimentally, Joel’s hand on your knee travels upwards. Over the soft skin of your thigh, taking it all in, savoring you—and then his fingers are circling your clit while Tommy’s are shoved deep inside of you, curved to hit the perfect spot, and you come undone within seconds. 
“Oh, God, Tommy, I—”
“I know, baby, it’s okay. Go ahead,” he says, giving you full permission. 
The words are the last thing you need to reach the full height of euphoria. You’re reduced to a trembling mess in his hands and Joel thinks this is so much better than his dreams. Better than standing in the doorway, watching you, wishing he could hold you.
“That’s it,” Joel praises. “There you go. Bein’ so good for us, sweetheart.” Wetness coats his fingers as he continues to circle your clit until your breath stutters in your chest. He kisses you hard as Tommy’s rhythm begins to slow, eventually stilling completely. 
You wince as they both pull their hands away from you at the same time, a synchronized movement. 
Tommy pulls the truck into Joel’s driveway and chuckles as he looks at you, skirt still hiked up around your hips, limbs boneless. He strokes the side of your face and kisses your hair. “You’re alright, princess. We’re just gettin’ started.”
Joel climbs out of the truck and adjusts your skirt, holding you with an arm around your waist to ensure your balance until both feet are on the ground. Tommy comes to your side and slides his hand into yours, handing Joel the keys.
While he works to unlock the front door, Joel can’t help but smile at the sound of your sweet giggles. He looks over his shoulder to see his brother kissing your neck and grabbing your ass, and the two of you look so infatuated with one another that it’s intoxicating. A magnetism he can’t help but be drawn to, a warmth he wants to embrace.
The minute you walk in the door you’ve got your hands on Joel again. You slip them beneath his t-shirt and he’s thrilled to give you what you want. He pulls it off over his head, discarding it on the back of the couch, and lets out a pleased sigh as you begin peppering wet kisses over his chest, down his sternum, fingers grabbing needily at his skin. 
Tommy stands behind you as you lower yourself to your knees between them. He runs his hands through your hair lovingly and says, “Show him what you do best, baby.”
You smile up at him and it takes Joel’s breath away. He’s never seen someone so pleased to please him, never felt this wanted in all his life. The metal of his belt buckle clinks against the button of his jeans as you undo them, pulling down his zipper in a way that’s familiar to you now.
When you pull his cock out, you wrap one hand around it and guide the tip to your mouth. He’s so hard already that he aches, but the feel of your soft tongue on him grants him ease. You lick every inch of him, an indulgent sort of torture. And then you’re swallowing him down, creating a tight seal with your plush lips.
Your mouth feels like heaven, Joel thinks.
“Look at the way she’s got her legs pressed together,” Tommy murmurs, thumb caressing your temple gently. “Gets so turned on with a dick in her mouth she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.”
“We’re gonna take care of that for you,” Joel says, cupping your jaw in his hand. He shifts it a little lower and can feel the outline of his cock through your throat as you swallow him down, gasping for air you never once ask for. “Gonna take care of everythin’ for you, sweetheart.”
Pleasure coils around his spine, a vise-like grip that threatens to end this night well before he’s ready for it.
Tommy grabs a handful of your hair and draws your head back. Strands of spit still connect you to him and drool runs down your chin. It’s the most pornographic thing he’s ever seen. Tommy laughs and says, “I know, brother. S’almost too good.”
Joel knows it should be a strange thing to hear, but it feels innate. He helps you back to your feet and pulls your shirt over your head while Tommy unzips the back of your skirt and slides it down your legs.
You turn and wrap your arms around Tommy’s neck and he lifts you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Joel supposes it is—the two of you have had a whole lot more practice together than he has. Tommy starts towards the stairs, heading towards Joel’s bedroom, but you let out a whine and reach out for him.
He can’t deny how warm it makes him feel, seeing you all wrapped up in his brother but still reaching for his hand. The smile you give him the moment he touches you makes his heart constrict in his chest. It’s such a soft, intimate moment, and Joel can think of nothing but your conversation on the phone last week.
You worried about catching feelings for me, Joel Miller?
He wasn’t a week ago. But now…? Now, he’s not so sure.
Tommy lays you down in the center of Joel’s bed and the sight of it pushes away his anxiety. You’re so beautiful with your hair splayed out behind you, an angelic sort of halo. The thought crosses his mind that you might have always been meant to exist in his bed.
It feels like second nature to crawl over you, to let his hands roam over your chest, your ribs, your hips. Joel follows each caress with a kiss, mouth following the echo of his hands. He sucks a bruise into your hip, ensuring this moment is real with physical, tangible evidence.
When he gets to the crease of your thigh, Joel sits up and spreads your legs wide. “Look at that,” he whispers. Tommy’s pulling off his worn t-shirt and working on his jeans but pauses long enough to appreciate the sight of your pussy, glossy with arousal and what remains of your first release. “She’s so fuckin’ pretty, ain’t she?”
“Yeah, she is,” Tommy agrees. “Taste’s real pretty, too.” He leans over and presses his mouth to yours, a messy, needy sort of kiss. You whimper as Tommy asks, “What d’you think, princess? Think Joel should get a taste? Hm?”
“Yes,” you say without hesitation. “I want it so bad, Tommy, please.”
“Want it, huh?” Joel slots himself between your thighs, his mouth an inch from where that ache resides. “Maybe we should make her wait a little longer, Tommy. Make her wait ‘til she needs it.”
“No, no, please,” you cry. You buck your hips, trying to find reprieve, but Joel’s hands on your waist hold firm. “I do, I do, I need it, Joel, please, please.”
He looks to his brother to make the decision. Tommy’s got a wicked grin on his face as he watches you writhe on Joel’s sheets. “Think you’ve been real good today. But don’t go forgettin’ your manners, princess. When Joel licks that pretty pussy of yours, you better say thank you.”
The moment he slides his tongue through your slit, your spine bends, arching off the mattress. Your shoulders slump and your breath comes fast. “Oh my god,” you moan. “Thank you, Joel, fuck.”
He tries to give you the same tentative treatment you’ve given him; tracing every inch of you with the flat of his tongue, memorizing the sweet taste, sucking your clit into his mouth. He can feel it pulse with need, and Joel understands the fever.
Your thighs clamp down around his head but Joel doesn’t mind. He just presses his mouth against you harder and flicks his tongue a little faster.
“Tommy,” you whimper. Joel looks up to see your chest heave with each shaking breath. You reach out for his brother with trembling fingers.
“I’m comin', baby,” Tommy says softly. “Don’t you worry.” The mattress dips beneath his weight as he kneels beside you. He cradles your head in his hand, supporting your neck while he eases his cock into your mouth. 
It’s the hottest thing Joel Miller has ever seen in his fucking life.
You grind yourself against his face and he supplies the friction you seek. Arousal coats his facial hair, enveloping his senses in nothing but you. Your moans, your taste, your scent—you, you you. He thinks he’ll never want it any other way but this.
Tommy guides your mouth with a hand wrapped in the tangled strands of your hair. He fucks your face and you whimper around his cock like there’s nothing else in the world that could ever compare. He smiles down at you and says, “You’re gonna make her cum, Joel. Can you feel it? Get’s real sloppy when she’s right there, right on the edge.”
Joel groans against you and focuses his mouth on your clit, giving him just enough room to slip a finger inside you to massage that sweet spot.
You stretch your arms above you and fist your hands in the sheets. When you reach the summit, Joel can feel it on his tongue, can feel your pussy tighten around his finger, can feel your thighs shake around his head.
Tommy pulls your head back, giving you a moment to breathe as another orgasm surges through you. Your moans echo in Joel’s room, the prettiest-sounding symphony he’s ever heard. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Tommy praises, just as breathless as you. “Bein’ such a good girl for us, baby.”
Joel doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop licking your clit until you’re giggling and twisting in his hands at the overstimulation. You sound so satisfied, so happy. It pleases him to see the elation on your face. When he finally pulls away, Joel snakes his arms beneath you and pulls you up to your knees. “So good,” Joel agrees. “But she’s gonna give us another one, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
All you can do is nod and it makes both brothers laugh.
“She’s usually got so much to say,” Tommy teases. “Think we’ve got her fucked dumb, brother.”
“That’s alright,” Joel whispers. “We’ll do all the thinkin’ for her, hm? Take such good care of this sweet little pussy. Turn around, baby. On your hands and knees.”
You do as he says blissfully, ass arched beautifully on display for him. Tommy maneuvers himself in front of you and you take him in your mouth on instinct. Second nature, habitual.
Joel positions himself behind you and slides the head of his cock through your slit. “This what you want, sweet girl? This what you dream of?”
Leaning back, you stroke Tommy with your hand and look up at him as you answer Joel’s question. “Yes,” you say. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you. Knew I needed you, Joel. Knew I needed you both.”
“Three’s a crowd, princess,” Tommy says. “But I think I like this one.”
Joel’s inclined to agree. He pushes into you slowly, sighing in contentment at the gratifying tightness. You’re so wet, so warm. “Goddamn, baby,” he groans, gripping the supple flesh of your ass to keep himself tethered to earth, to keep himself grounded. 
Tommy holds your face in his hands, smoothing his cock over your lips. “Oh, she likes it, Joel,” he says. “Should see her face. Can I take a picture, baby? So Joel can see how happy you look with his dick all up in your guts? Hm?”
The words are crude but Joel can feel you tighten around him as Tommy speaks. “Mmhm,” is all you can say, sticking your tongue out to lick the underside of Tommy’s cock.
He reaches over to the nightstand where his cell phone sits. Tommy angles his phone just right, and the shutter echoes in the room as he takes his photos.
Joel pushes into you real slow. And when he’s buried to the hilt you let out a gasp and hold onto Tommy’s thigh for support, balance wavering. “It feels so fucking good,” you say.
Tommy takes a couple more photos, tries a couple of different angles. But Joel thinks no image will ever beat the one in front of him.
He watches your pussy stretch to make room for him, watches you soak his cock, desperate for it. Tilting his hips forward, Joel sets a steady pace, easily finding a rhythm that has you moaning out his name. 
Satisfied with his work, Tommy sets his phone back on the nightstand in favor of the filthy exhibit before him. He guides his cock back to your mouth, groaning at the feel of your tongue. 
Joel thrusts into you and feels that coil begin to form around the base of his spine again.
You’re moaning around Tommy’s cock and he’s smiling like there’s no place else he’d rather be. Joel understands that, too—because he thinks you’re the most perfect girl that could have ever stumbled into their lives. “S’this what you needed, princess? Needed us both, hm? Dirty little girl.”
“Our girl,” Joel muses, captivated by the way you squeeze him as he says it. He fits so perfectly inside you, like you were made for him, made for this. “Stretchin’ her out so easy, brother. Sweet little pussy’s just cryin’ for it.”
Tommy’s head falls back and his hips stutter. “Just like that, princess,” he praises gently. “Yeah, shit—gonna swallow it all like a good little girl, ain’t you?” 
You make a sound of approval at the back of your throat. Joel can see you look up at his brother, cock-drunk and starry-eyed, and he feels his chest pull tight with a strange sense of pride.
Joel slows his pace just a little, long enough for Tommy to take what he needs from you, for you to focus on just him. And then he’s breathing hard as he holds your head still, nose pressed against his navel. His shoulders draw tight and then gradually relax as he spills his release at the back of your throat. 
When Tommy pulls out of you, his cock is covered in spit and cum but you do as he says, dutifully swallowing it all up like the perfect girl you are. And you even clean any remaining mess with your tongue, licking it up with sweet reverence.
He’s close—so close it aches, but he wants you to give him another before this is other. Wants to make it worth your while, wants to know how it feels to make you cum while he’s buried deep inside you. 
You arch your back and press your cheek against the mattress, looking back at Joel from over your shoulder.
Tommy moves to your side, smoothing your hair out of your face with one hand, and then he slips the other beneath you and circles your clit with skilled, deft fingers.
The response is instantaneous. Joel can feel your pussy pulse around him, sees the strain on your face as you fight the pleasure. You say his brother's name like a prayer shrouded in ecstasy.
But Tommy just shakes his head. “Nah, princess. Ain’t up to me this time. You gotta ask Joel permission.”
He doesn’t understand at first, this almost silent communication between the two of you. But then you say, “Joel, please. Please please, I need to cum so bad, it feels too good.”
You sound so fucking pretty, begging for him like that. “Been so good…I think you’ve earned it,” he says gently. “Go ‘head, sweetheart.”
Tommy continues to circle your clit as you clench around Joel’s cock, uttering quiet praises in your ear. 
You tighten around him and Joel’s right there, right there—and then you say, “Cum with me, Joel, please. Cum with me, I wanna feel it.”
And it sends him over the edge. His name in your mouth, begging him to fill you up. He buries himself so deep inside you that there’s no telling where he ends and you begin, and it’s the best orgasm he’s ever had in his fucking life. 
You shudder beneath him and Joel leans forward, pressing his forehead to your spine. He thrusts into you until the last drop, giving you all of it, giving you everything he has to offer.
As you come down, Tommy pulls his hand from beneath you and combs his fingers through your hair. He’s got that stupid grin on his face, but Joel’s not sure he’s ever seen his brother this happy before. 
The three of you just lay there for a moment, saying nothing, unmoving, basking in the afterglow. Joel’s not quite sure how he’s meant to navigate this, not sure what he’s supposed to say or how he’s supposed to feel about the fact that the best sex he’s ever had was with his brother’s little girlfriend. 
But he does know how to take care of a woman. So, he does. Joel eases himself out of you and disappears for only long enough to find a washcloth, wet it with cool water from the bathroom sink, and grab an icy bottle of water from the fridge. 
When he returns to his bedroom, Tommy holds you in his arms while you speak to him in a hushed tone. It worries him a little, truthfully.
So when Joel sits on the side of his bed to clean the light sheen of sweat off your forehead and the mess between your legs, he asks, “Everythin’ okay?”
“Everything’s good. So, so good,” you answer easily, giving him one of those honeyed smiles.
Tommy takes the bottle of water from Joel’s hand and breaks the seal. “Drink,” he says, passing it to you. And you do, listening so obediently.
But the moment your hands are free again you say, “Joel? Can I ask you something?”
“Anything,” he says. And he means it. Whatever it is you need, whatever it is you want, Joel wants to give to you. He’s come to understand his brother in this, too.
“Do you think you’d want to…I don’t know. Maybe we could do it again?”
He laughs. Genuinely, truly laughs, because Tommy’s been right this whole time. You’re insatiable.
But you quickly amend your words. Saying, “I mean, not…not now. But maybe…maybe I could stay? For the weekend?”
Joel finds the thought of you leaving at the end of the night an unbearable one. And he knows he’ll likely feel the same once Sunday evening rolls around, and he’s not quite sure what that means for him or you or Tommy…but maybe it’s not something he has to worry about today. 
He kisses your forehead and says, “‘Course you can, sweetheart.”
And then you’re reaching for him again, urging him beneath the sheets. You lay your head on Joel’s chest and drape your leg over Tommy’s hip, and you look so at ease, so peaceful that his heart constricts at the sight. You’re so good, so sweet, and Joel thinks he’d do anything to keep you happy.
Later, as your soft snores and shallow breaths fill the silence, Tommy playfully kicks Joel in the shin and says, “Ain’t no use tryin’ to talk yourself off the ledge, brother. Easier to just enjoy the freefall. Take it day by day.”
Joel thinks his brother might be right. Thinks that this might get complicated and messy and dangerous…but for now, for today…he’ll savor the sugary sweetness while it lasts.
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somegrumpynerd · 5 months
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Putting this in the askbox of all my utmv mutuals
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hllywdwhre · 6 months
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Revenge - Tommy Shelby
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Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy
Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any
Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖
MDNI, 18+ only
You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.
Scratch that.
You knew exactly how it had happened.
Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.
You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.
Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.
It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.
Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.
It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.
“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.
Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.
“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.
Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.
The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.
You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,
“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.
“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”
You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,
“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.
Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.
The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.
Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.
Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.
You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.
I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.
You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.
As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.
The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.
“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.
The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.
You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.
You needed Sabini to notice you.
You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.
The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.
You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.
It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.
“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.
A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,
“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.
“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“
“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”
His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.
“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”
You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.
“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.
Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.
“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.
He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.
Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.
“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.
“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.
You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.
“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”
“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.
“And how do you see it?”
“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.
“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.
“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.
His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.
“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.
You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.
“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”
“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.
“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”
His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.
“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”
In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.
You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.
Revenge is a scorned Shelby
As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.
Sabini is dead.
That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.
But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.
You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.
You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.
When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.
You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.
He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.
Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.
“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”
“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.
Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,
“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.
“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”
Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”
“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.
“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”
Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.
“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.
“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”
“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.
“No.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.
“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.
“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”
“Explain.”
“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.
“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.
“Yes.”
“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.
You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.
“Yes.”
“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”
“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.
In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.
You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.
“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.
“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.
“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.
“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.
“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.
“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”
You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.
He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.
“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.
“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.
He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.
He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,
“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,
“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.
“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”
The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.
“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.
“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.
You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.
If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.
His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.
It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.
His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.
Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.
Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.
“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”
Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.
You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.
Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.
You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.
If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.
And then your third.
Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.
He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.
“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”
You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.
“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.
Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.
Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.
The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.
Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.
He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.
His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.
The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.
“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.
“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.
“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.
“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.
“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”
“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.
“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.
You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.
His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.
“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”
“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.
His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.
Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.
“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.
“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.
“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.
“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.
“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”
His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.
“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.
“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.
“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.
“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.
“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.
A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.
He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.
“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”
“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.
“I’m yours and you’re mine.”
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drcranessweetestdoe · 7 months
Note
heyyyyy
could you do a Tommy shelby fic?
in which he fucks Ada's bestfriend when she is 18!
hii, love this idea xx I have been writing this all day, time to celebrate with a jam sandwich:) xx
Finally mine
warning: agegap!, Thomas lusts after her while she is underage, grooming, virginity loss, virginity kink, innocence kink, unprotected sex, Tommy being a softie, possessiveness
pairing: Thomas Shelby x Innocent!Reader
summary: ever since he came back from the war, Tommy found himself wanting his sister’s lovely and sweet best friend, too bad he has to wait until she is 18
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(Y/N) was the sweetest girl in the whole of Birmingham, always polite and kind. Thomas was smitten with her from day one. She and Ada met in school, she felt sorry that Ada was always alone, because everyone told their kids to stay away from the filthy Shelby’s. So, one day she gathered the courage and sat beside the sad girl, who was very excited to finally have a friend.
It was the age of war, so everyone was always on the edge of a meltdown. And money wasn’t exactly falling from the sky. While (Y/N)’s family weren’t considered aristocrats by any chance, she never had to worry about not getting fed, or not having a warm bed to sleep in. That was something that the Shelby’s couldn’t exactly relate to, there was little money and quite a few mouths to feed. Aunt Polly tried her best to feed the hungry children at the table, but she was failing more and succeeding less. Her sister-in-law’s three big boys were away at war, but they were always talked about.
One day, the thirteen year old (Y/N) plopped down beside her best friend Ada with a full lunch box in hand. She always had lunch packed with her, but Ada never did. For a long time, she just assumed that the malnourished girl was not hungry in school. While she was munching on her apple, she heard the growl of a hungry belly and Ada turned her head down in shame. While a girl is naive at 13, (Y/N) immediately knew that her friend was hungry, and that she probably didn’t get as much food at home as she did. When Ada looked back at her, she reacted with a wide smile to the outstretched hand towards her, holding a big red apple.
For the rest of the break, they just sat under their tree, silently chewing on their apples, with a smile on both faces.
That is how Ada knew that (Y/N) was going to be her lifelong best friend. She opened up to her when they were sharing a cigarette on the edge of the forest.
“We had more money before the war, if Tommy was here he would make sure that we have food.” Ada explained.
(Y/N) just blinked at her friend. “Who’s Tommy?”
———-
Three years later, the girls were now sixteen and the war was finally over. Because (Y/N) herself didn’t have any brothers, or sisters, she didn’t know how many families waited for this day to come.
It was a pretty summer day, and she made her way to the Shelby household, where she was always welcomed by Aunt Polly. Except, when she walked into the house, there was only one man sitting at the table. Her breath got stuck in her throat and she blushed heavily, he was very handsome. For a moment she believed that she walked into the wrong house, but the photographs on the walls proved otherwise. He was smoking a cigarette and staring at the wall blankly, he was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn’t even hear her come in.
Thomas just wanted a moment to himself in his childhood house before going back to the Garrison, he was not the same man anymore. Suddenly, he saw a figure in the corner of his eye. A second later, the two pairs of eyes met. His previously sad eyes lit up at the sight of her, but he tried to conceal it. She was so beautiful… Slender and weakish frame, something that made him eager to protect her. Her long and soft looking hair. And that face, oh god, that pretty face.
“H-Hi… I’m (Y/N).” She walked closer to him and stuck her hand out for him, she recognized him from the pictures, he was one of Ada’s brothers.
He heard about her, Aunt Pol always told him what was happening on Watery Lane in the letters she sent to Tommy. She had mentioned Ada’s lovely friend, multiple times. She told him that the girl was pretty, very kind, and that she went with her to church on Sundays when no one else wanted to, just so Polly didn’t have to go alone.
Tommy smiled at her, and she felt herself get lost in those bright blue gems of eyes. Instead of shaking her hand, he brought it to his lips and planted a little kiss on it. Her hand was soft and warm, it was a while since he felt the touch of a gentle female. He smiled when she blushed more at his kiss. “Thomas Shelby.”
—----
From that day on, Miss (Y/L/N) was under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. Thomas always had one of his men following her and Ada to school, and then back home. It killed him knowing that he couldn’t touch her, make her his, not yet anyway. That would have been immoral and awful, and he knew that aunt Pol would have broken his hand in two and cut off his cock. That didn’t mean he hadn’t spent too many night fucking his fist to the thought of her. Everyone in the Shelby clan could see how soft he was towards her, always making sure that she stays out of the bad things, and whenever she came over and he was working, his eyes basically formed into hearts and followed her everywhere. The family loved her, she enjoyed baking and she always made sure that at least once a week she turned up to the office with home-baked treats. Those kinds of sweet treats calmed everyone down, business was blooming after all.
Ever since Tommy came back from the war, he only let himself be pleasured by whores, the one girl he wanted was the one he had to wait for. He always hired prostitutes that resembled her even the slightest bit. He imagined that he was burying himself inside her wet and warm walls, he overheard her and Ada and he was very well aware that she was untouched, a sweet little virgin. In Small Heath, the girls started sleeping around in their teens, but she, at 17, didn’t care about the boys her age. She wanted a certain gangster, who was nearing his thirties.
He didn’t even claim her yet, but wherever she walked, everyone knew she was Tommy Shelby’s girl. He sent her gifts, and always a handwritten note. Her heart never failed to warm up when she saw the little T.S on the bottom of the cards. Flowers, chocolates, exotic spices that she could put in her sweet treats, jewellery, dresses, everything a 17 year old girl loves. She was spoiled by him. When she wore one of the dresses that he got for her, she always sent him a shy smile and a little nod.
—-----
Tomorrow was going to be the day when she would finally become 18 years old, a young lady. She felt so antsy getting to bed, knowing that she would wake up as an adult. She also deeply hoped that Tommy would do something, after 2 years of gifts, protection and lustful gazes from distance. It was safe to say that her standards were very much heightened.
When she woke up, she noticed a big box on the chair of her vanity, tied up in one of those big ribbons. Her mother must have brought it up for her, as she always did when her daughter’s name was on the box, written by the familiar handwriting.
She was smiling widely when she opened the box up, it had a beautiful silky dress and a gold locket necklace. She marvelled at the divine fabric, but quickly blushed when she looked into the box again. There was a set of white lingerie and a note.
Tonight, I’ll send a car to pick you up at 7pm, be ready.
~T.S
She melted at that, and she felt her lower tummy warm up. This evening, she will finally be claimed.
——-
By the time 7pm rolled around, she did everything she could to make herself look pretty for him. She took a long hot bath, made sure she smelled good everywhere. She washed her hair and tied up half of it with a bow. She put lotion all over herself, sprayed herself with perfume and put the lovely dress on. Sitting in her vanity, she put on some makeup. She felt beautiful.
She got her light coat on, along with kitten heels and she was waiting for his car to come. When it did, she sat in the backseat and greeted the driver.
She got driven to Arrow house, which she only heard about before. It was so huge, and overwhelming, but very nice.
A maid took her coat and escorted her to the dining roomom. Just like the rest of the house, it was quite big, both the room itself and the table. It was decorated elegantly, the candlelight flooded the room. Just as she stepped in, Thomas walked in the room on the other door. He looked so handsome as always, with his muscular frame and his tailored suit.
His heart nearly jumped out of his chest, she looked like an angel, and she was standing in his house, wearing his gift. The maid left, now there were only two of them in the room, he walked up to her. With a gentle hand on her waist, he pulled her closer so he could plant a kiss on her cheek and whisper in her ear. “You look absolutely gorgeous.” He got even closer, her head was spinning with him so close, his masculine scent sent her hormones into overdrive. “I hope the dress isn’t the only gift of mine on you.”
He felt his dick twitch when she looked up at him like that, a gentle glint in her eyes. She shaked her head, too lost in his eyes to answer with words. To shake her out of her trance, he guided her to her seat, with his hand still on her slender waist.
He sat next to her, the maids kept on serving the finest of foods. Thomas also brought out a bottle of red wine. Both of them were surprised how easy it was for them to talk. They talked and ate, and Tommy even found himself laughing. He also found out how innocent she was, she wasn’t stupid, just inexperienced, and he was more than happy to give her experience. She also had a big heart, and a gentle soul, she was everything he needed.
While everyone in Small Heath tried to warn her about Thomas Shelby, she never understood why. He was just trying to protect his family and give them a chance at a better life, he was also an absolute softie for her. She could see that he had a lot of love to give, he enjoyed being the leader and defeating other gang leaders, but he must have been craving someone who could take care of him for once, she knew that she wanted to be that person.
When they finished dessert, he pulled her chair closer to his and cradled one of her blushing cheek into his palm.
“Are you aware of my intentions towards you?” He asked in a serious tone, she knew that he wasn’t fooling around. Now or never. She nodded as much as she could with the gentle hold on her face, but he wasn’t having it. “Answer me with words, I want to see if you really want this.” She felt dizzy by hearing his dominating tone.
“Yes, I know your intentions with me.” She replied shyly.
“What are they?” His fingers started to move her hair out of her face, caressing her in the process.
“Y-You want to make me yours.” She spoke lowly, it was hard to speak when he was looking at her as if he was seconds away from ravaging her.
“Yes, and do you want that, (Y/N)? Do you want me to make you mine?” He was even closer now, he whispered seductively in her ear, his full lips were nearly touching the shell of her ear. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I will give you everything you crave. Please, let me give you the world.” Thomas Shelby barely used the word ‘please’, but he was nearly begging for her. She almost giggled, as if she really needed much convincing.
“I want it, I want it so bad, Tommy…” She was getting impatient, and he saw it on her.
“Shh, sweetheart… Don’t let your pretty head worry, I’m going to take care of you so nicely.” He stood up and stuck his hand out for her to take. “Come.”
He walked with her to his bedroom, she was walking behind him so she couldn’t see the wicked grin on his lips. When they stepped in the door, he just kept on walking, which caused her to walk backwards, until her knees hit the bed and she had fallen down on it.
He didn’t waste a second and crawled on top of her, his lips slowly finding hers. Their kiss started out slow, he guided her lips with his own. After a few minutes, noticing that she was starting to become more and more confident, he slipped his tongue into her open mouth. His hand wandered to her back, where the zipper was, his head pulled away so he could ask for silent permission. Once he got it, he helped her sit up and he removed the dress. Sitting back on his heels, he admired the sight in front of him, her young body was just begging to be ruined. She was wearing the lace, she looked exactly like an angel. His lips glued themselves to her neck and they sucked and bit, her noises were proof that she was enjoying his touch. He made sure to really mark her up, she wasn’t going to leave his mansion for a while, he needed his time with his new prize. She bit down on her lips to hide her moans, something he growled at.
“Don’t you dare. I want to hear you, don’t hold back, sweetheart.”
He went down to her breasts, he also reached under her arched back and unclasped her bra. She tried to cover herself, but he was having none of it. He slowly unpeeled her arms from her chest and kissed all around her breasts. “How beautiful! Such a nice pair of tits you have, the best I’ve seen.” He sucked a nipple into his mouth and she mewled loudly, she didn’t expect to feel so aroused while getting her nipples sucked at. He made sure that he gave both of her tits the same treatment before going lower.
Before he could do more, he stood up to remove his shirt and pants, her presence was making him hotter by the minute. He hooked his fingers into her panties and his cock nearly tore his underwear when he saw how the crotch was stuck to her entrance. She was already so ready for him. He yanked harder and they finally parted, he brought her panties up to his nose and inhaled deeply. “Mhm, so sweet… But, I think I need to feel this from the source.” Tommy dropped to his knees in front of her spread legs, her mind was making her doubt herself. What if she looked ugly down there? What if it smelled or tasted b—
“OH— Tommy!” She moaned loudly when his tongue licked a long stripe up her slit. He just chuckled into her pussy darkly, then he moved on to her pleasure. His mouth was sucking her throbbing clit, his fingers slowly circled her entrance, teasing her.
“Fuck… Your cunt tastes divine, and it’s only for my mouth to taste.” It wasn’t even a question. She was unable to form a coherent sentence, she could only moan and thrash on his tongue. He took one finger and he slowly eased it into her, she was so wet that it slipped right into her, he didn’t hesitate to add another one. “You’re going so good, I cannot wait to feel this tight virgin pussy on my cock.” He curled his fingers and rubbed them right into her spongy spot, her fingers grabbed his hair and tried to push his face more into her heat. He felt her clenching more and more, so he sped up his movements and grinned proudly when she came undone with a whiny moan and a desperate call of his name.
He kissed his way back up to her heaving chest and looked up at her flushed face. He talked her through it, until her breathing evened out again. He slowly slipped his underwear off, his back straightened out for her to see his big cock. It was veiny and thick and it made her nervous. He kept her legs spread, while he kneeled between them, one of his hand smoothing her face and the other one gripped himself at his base. “Want to give a little touch? Don’t be scared, I’m going to make this very pleasurable for you, my sweet girl.” He hissed when her fingertips made contact with his dripping tip, he was so pent up and her soft touch nearly made him blow his load all over her juicy tits, but he had to stay patient. “Are you ready? Ready to become mine?”
“Yes, Tommy, please, I want to feel you. I-I waited for you.” This caused him to grin and give her a deep kiss.
“I know you did, little one.” He positioned himself at her entrance and he slowly began pushing in, he felt a bit of resistance, but with a sharp thrust, he managed to break through it. He wrapped her up in his arms and whispered sweet nothings into her ear soothingly. “I know, I know. It will feel better in a minute, your pussy just has to adjust to my cock. Relax.” It didn’t hurt as much as she thought it would, but it still did, the girls in her class made it sound worse, or maybe their boyfriends didn’t take the time to prep them properly. That made her so proud, her Tommy made sure she was ready. She tried her best to relax her muscles and she felt the pain lessen. She planted a shy kiss on Tommy’s neck at which he chuckled at. “Good girl. You’re mine now, only mine.” He slowly began moving in and out of her.
Her walls gripped on him like a vice, he didn’t need any whores anymore, he had her now. His hands lifted her hips up a bit, so his cock was hitting her spot at every thrust. He went more and more faster, his fingers also began rubbing on her swollen clitoris.
“AH— Tommy, I’m going to—do that thing again.” His innocent little girl, so good for him.
“Good… I can feel you squeeze me, come on, sweet girl, come for me. Come on my cock. Let me fill you up. Let me make you mine.” With a shout of his name and a cry, she came around him. When he felt her walls pulsing around him, he let go too. His warm cum painted her walls, and it was such a delicious sensation. He stayed inside her for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breaths.
When he pulled out, he sat back so he could watch his cum leak out of her spent hole. He looked down proudly at his softening cock, which had some of her blood on it. Shit, he really filled her up with his load, there was so much of it. And the whiteness of him and the dark crimson of her virginity made such a lovely contrast together.
He took a rag from his bedside table and cleaned her up, making sure that he was gentle with her, the girl just got fucked and she was sensitive both physically and mentally, he had to be gentle.
After he made sure they were both clean, he once again brought her into his embrace. He smiled at her lovingly, which caused her to do the same. Her hair was all puffy from his touch, but he loved it.
“Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He cradled her cheek, and caressed her under eye area with his fingertip.
“I’m good, I feel a bit sore, but it’s okay.” She nuzzled into his neck and left little kisses. “I’m so happy to be here with you.”
He smiled in a way he didn’t for a long time, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He wanted to give the world to the girl in his arms, and he felt the primal urge to protect her and keep her away from all the bad. “Me too. I’m happy to know that you’re finally mine.”
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taglist: @your-nanas-house
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The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader
Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.
Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting
Word Count: 4350
A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)
PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!
Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!
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"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.
"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.
"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.
"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.
"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"
"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.
"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."
"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.
"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."
"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.
"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.
"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.
"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.
"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.
"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.
Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"
"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"
"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.
John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.
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"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.
"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.
"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"
"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.
"I'm looking to donate to the children."
"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.
He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.
"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.
"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.
"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."
"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.
"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.
"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.
"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.
"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.
"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."
"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.
"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.
"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.
"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.
Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.
(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.
"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.
"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.
"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.
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John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.
"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.
To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.
"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.
"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.
John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.
Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."
Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.
"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.
"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.
"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.
Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.
"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.
"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.
"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.
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John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.
"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.
"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.
"The school?" Arthur questioned.
"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.
"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.
"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.
"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.
John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."
"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.
John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.
"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.
"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.
"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.
"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).
"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.
"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.
"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.
"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.
"Why not?"
"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.
Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.
Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.
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"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."
"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."
"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"
"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.
"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."
"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.
"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."
Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.
(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.
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(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.
Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.
"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.
"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.
"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.
"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.
"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.
She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.
"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.
"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.
"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.
"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.
"I'm rather terrible at dancing."
"You've not seen me dance then."
(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.
"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.
(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.
They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.
(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.
"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.
"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.
"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"
"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.
"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.
(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.
"Figured we could get to know each other better."
"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.
The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.
As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.
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-One Year Later-
Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.
"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.
Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.
Well...two of the guests weren’t exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).
Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.
"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."
Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.
No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.
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pepemoon · 6 months
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It is said that the Boogeyman often appears in the dark, hiding in closets and under beds. But not this one. Tommy was so sure that man was within his walls. But lately, he isn’t even sure that was true. Especially tonight, after the loud siren blaring.
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