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#cillian murphy imagines
beiasluv · 8 months
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cillian murphy and his ‘daughter-figure’
a/n: i can never make myself write for people in real life with a romantic interest, sorry 😩 but i won’t deny to reading allat. no proof reads :)
enjoy!
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cillian had taken you under his wings (awh) a long, long time ago
thankfully, christopher nolan approve of your acting and accepted you for a movie, allowing you to meet him for the first time
becoming the youngest constant actress to be featured in nolan’s multiverse
several years later, you are, once again, walking on the red carpet with your on screen ‘father figure’
oppenhiemer ofc
walking along the red carpet, camera flashed at you and your drop-dead gorgeous outfit for the event. making sure to look around to catch every news headlines, you see flo and emily waving at you. wasting no time, you rushed to your favorite girlies.
“hii,” flo and emily enveloped you into her embraces and kisses.
“my darling, y/n, how’ve you been?”
giggling about the latest girl talk, complimenting flo on her haircut and outfit, and a little bit sprinkle of girls touch up, a third hand wrapped around your shoulders and you turned around to see those set of blue eyes.
“cill!”
“hello, darling,” without a second thought, cillian smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist. not too tight but not too insecure, just the perfect spot.
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liked by florencepugh, roberdowneyjr, and others
yourinsta thank you. xoxo
cillian is just a sweet soul in general
he could get protective if you were rubbed off in a wrong way
if the interviewer ask weird questions, he won’t hesitate to throw hands
he also loves going out with you just for bonding purposes
movies, restaurants, or just going out with his kids
his wife definitely adores you
his kids definitely see you as their sister
a 100 percent some photo booths sessions with him
“ok, pose now!” you looked at the camera while making a serious face, which cillian mirrored. a funny face and a silly face precedes.
“how do you click this ancient photobooth? cill!”
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liked by ynnumberonefan, florencepugh, and others
yourinsta thanks for paying for mi lunch ;)
jessepas NO WAY y/n convinced cillian to do photo booths with her
kanHK trust me! cillian def convinced her 😭
gagahi imagine getting your lunch payed by emily, rdj, cillian, matt, and JOHN?
ynwifie Y/N pleaseeee i can pay for your lunchhh
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you are feeding cillian fans with post and pictures. (come on, we are starving)
dancing to tiktoks with cillian in the background smiling <3
you can never do interviews with cillian and never laugh
it. is. impossible.
he’s just very funny in private and ‘the’ dead face humor
“three, two, one, rolling!”
“hello- cillian,” chuckling as you see cillian staring off into the distance again.
“oh- hello,” he smiled. “i am cillian murphy.”
“and i am y/n l/n, and we are here for…”
what is your favorite scene with cillian?
“are we talking about oppenheimer or just everything?” you chuckled and took a swift glance at cillian who was grinning at you.
“just in anything, anything that comes to your mind”
“wow…” poking your tongue a little bit out while you were thinking. “i…don’t know…not- not because i don’t have one but it is a journey back, you know?” smiling at the interviewer.
“we take a long way back,” cillian added while he looked over to you. “i remember meeting her when she was just a little kid in the batman trilogy.”
“i- i was young, yes,” letting out a soft laugh, you thought again.
“um…I honestly don’t know which one to pick,” you chuckled. “i’ll say my favorite one is in inception, it just amazes me how cillian delivers his emotional, tear-jerking scenes, and we got to do a lot of amazing, humorous stunts.”
“cillian doesn’t take compliments very well, does he?”
the comment made you look over to your fellow actor and saw him smiling at you and shaking his head. you laughed and adjusted your position in the chair, “irish people doesn’t take it very well, he will just turn invisible if you keep complimenting him.”
are you going to go watch barbie?
cillian smiled and glanced slowly at you, “ask her.”
“a 100% will do. as a matter of fact, i already went to watch it,” you said proudly and giggled.
“oh really? how was it?”
“it was really, really good. i wasn’t expecting to cry but…you can ask him,” you pointed at cillian who couldn’t hold his chuckle in any longer.
“so you two went to watch it together? wow-”
“yes,” cillian smiled sheepishly. “a lovely movie, made y/n cried, very touching,” cillian chuckled.
“no spoilers but- the ending scene was super tear jerking but the end credits made me confused whether I should laugh or cry,” you laughed at your memories of going to watch barbie with cillian.
what do you have each other on the phone as?
“this is going to be so embarrassing,” you fake groaned and chuckled, while digging for your phone in your dress.
“also girls, this dress has pockets. amazing,” cillian and the interviewer gained a few chuckles. you fished out your phone and unlocking it with a few swipes, and opened the contact app, scrolling to the ‘c’ sections.
“i…have him as ‘cilly shelby’,” cillian went wide eyes and look at the screen of your phone.
cillian grinned and leaned back on his chair, “i saved her as y/n and a smiley face emoji.”
“aw what? that is so nice, i feel so bad now”
one thing about the person next to you?
“cillian, cillian, cillian. i would say he is very caring and an astonishing actor, performer,” you says while putting your hands to your heart.
“no- you are”
“irish modesty, people,” you faked rolled your eyes at him, while mockingly patting him.
“he’s great, just a very supportive…i wouldn’t say brother but i don’t wanna say father figure as well, even though we played a lot of father-daughter roles together,” you laughed at your own response, fixing your hair.
biting your lips, you pondered, “ah, i would say an…‘uncle figure’.”
“what?” cillian chuckled
“it’s someone you can have fun with and someone who you can look after to, for me,” you smiled while cillian cooed his response and gave you a side hug.
“that was very sweet,” he smiled. “i would say y/n is very sweet and brave soul, just someone who you meet and brightens your day.”
cillian cleared his throat and switched his crossing leg, “well, i have two boys but bonding with her will always be special to me, like the daughter i never had.”
“thank you christopher nolan for giving me a daughter,” he chuckled and gave you another side hug.
“aw, i’m going to cry”
last but definitely not the least. a random question from the audience, what is the hottest thing a man can wear?
laughters filled the room, rolling back in your chair, “wow, that was random.”
“i know right?” the interviewer chuckles and wiped a fake tears.
“i think we should ask the man,” you pointed your fingers at cillian and he shifted in his chair.
“wow…that really caught me off-guard,” cillian cleared his throat. “i would say a nice suit or a silk shirt.”
“definitely a black silk,” you added, gaining chuckles from cillian and the crews.
“for me…wow, it’s going to be really weird. I like men who wear watches, like the leather straps one,” you chuckled and hid your face in your palms.
“i definitely rubbed it on her, sorry,” cillian smiled and hid his watch as he crossed his arms.
“hey- yeah- maybe he did…ooo, ah, another thing is properly a teacher glasses, i don’t know man, it’s hot.”
“noted, guys, you’re welcome,” the interviewer says to the camera, cutting off the interview session.
if you like my work, feel free to like or reblog; if not, critiques are appreciated. today’s a great day to take care of yourself 🤍 lots of love.
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calummss · 5 months
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Cillian Murphy Headcanon: Dating A Younger Woman Would Include
masterlist
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the age gap i’m thinking of is 15-17 years, so if it makes you uncomfortable do not read!
a/n: i got inspo from @wouldpollyapprove . so credit for this idea goes to her
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i feel like you would meet cillian randomly
at a cafe when there were no free seats left; the cinema, both alone because you’re introverted; asking around for pen, something like that
literally straight out of a movie
he liked that you weren’t up in his business or knew straight away who he was—which you did but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable
you exchanged numbers and went from there
you started off as friends and hung out a lot
but it got you thinking if you were more than friends; if he could see you as a potential girlfriend
so you took the risk
and it payed off
cillian felt the same way about you
both of you decided that it should be kept private for loads of reasons
one being that the media liked to trash age gap couple
when you introduced him to your family they were instantly smitten by him and it ability to hold conversations, how kind and smart he is
they were skeptical of the age gap and talked to you about it. it took them some weeks to get used to it but they liked him nonetheless and knew that he made you very happy
his parents and the contrary didn’t care about the age gap at all, never mentioned it or repeated your age in a judgy way, instead cheersed your wine glass with a ‘welcome to the family’
you moved into his place a year and a half after you start dating
you’re job is flexible so you can work from/in dublin
despite cillian’s fame you’re still able to go on dates
you’ve been very good at hiding from the paparazzi
when the press do get a hold on cillian’s private life and publish a picture of the two of you, the fans go wild
they’re having a field day talking about your age gap
which makes you a little insecure but there’s nothing that cillian can’t comfort you through
cillian’s publicist releases a statement so you can enjoy the piece and quiet again
the topic died down anyways
especially when they caught glimpses of the two of you around town, fully engaged with one another, love written all over you
also can i just say that your first christmas together is the best thing ever??
you two standing in the kitchen, preparing the food in the warm christmas lights of the house, warm air around you two, all whilst slow dancing in a burning room by john mayer is playing
when cillian’s away for work you facetime each other every second night and fall asleep without hanging up
he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever
sometimes you visit him on set
and stare at him in awe (well he is hot)
cillian and you are so in love and everyone can see it
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babyflorencee · 3 months
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Florence's Masterlist of hot guys
I'd love to hear any requests that you may have for these five actors and the character that they portray!! 💋♥️
Gilbert Blythe
𓇼Jealousy
Dylan O’brien
𓇼Raindrop Romance and Puppy Dog Eyes
𓇼 My Flannel
𓇼Ignored ignorance
𓇼I love you
𓇼Fuck it
Timothée Chalamet 
𓇼Hair dye
𓇼Only one bed
𓇼Peach Boy
𓇼Pretty boy
𓇼Worries and apologies 
𓇼Books, pillow talks, and an attention-craving boy
𓇼Sleepy
𓇼You're stuck with me
𓇼Hair tie
𓇼Stop taking your hands out of mine
𓇼Cigarettes
Cillian Murphy 
𓇼Haunted house
Andrew Garfield 
𓇼Do I make you nervous?
𓇼P.s I love you
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huntingingoodwill · 1 year
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how to steal a million (t.s.)
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masterlist
pairing: tommy shelby x reader
prompts: must include: a confession, hurt/comfort, a family tradition, forced proximity
a/n: this is my fic for @runnning-outof-time 's holiday bingo challenge! i hope you like it <3
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You hitched up the skirt of your gown, the silk gathering in your fingers and tumbling past your knuckles as you hurried down the hallway. 
You heard your name echo down the corridor, and you swore under your breath, wisps of hair falling from your perfect coiffure as you evaded the voice.
“Where are you? Everyone’s asking after you! Come down and join the party!” 
Your eyes landed on an inconspicuous door, and you scrabbled toward it, heels clicking frantically against the marble floor. 
You slid into the broom closet, hurriedly clicking the door shut behind you. You were immediately plunged into darkness, the only sliver of light peeking through the gap at the bottom of the door. 
You watched that little strip of light fall across your feet, holding your breath. Your fingernails dug into the soft flesh of your clammy palms as you heard the voice get closer, footsteps quickly approaching.
You breathed a sigh of relief as the footsteps receded into the distance, the voice growing fainter as the shadow that obscured the light moved past the closet. 
The tension draining out of your body, you sunk toward the door, bracing your forehead against the smooth, cool wood. 
You heard the click of a lighter behind you, and you whipped around to see a man in the darkness, illuminated by the orange glow of the small fire. 
“Cigarette?” He mumbled, the smell of tobacco filling the cramped space as he lit the cigarette that dangled off his lips. 
“Jesus Christ!” You exclaimed, jumping back in shock. 
Your hand shot up to feel around for the light switch above you, yanking on the cord. 
Suddenly, the tiny closet was awash in light, and you took in the sight of a man sitting in the corner, casually nursing a cigarette. 
“Who are you?” You blinked at him, astonished. 
“A guest.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, folding your arms over your chest as you felt suspicion swirl through your mind.
“A guest.”  You repeated, your tone brimming with doubt. “And what is a guest doing, hiding here, so far away from the party?” 
“I could ask the same of you.” He quipped, icy blue eyes holding your gaze.  
“Ah, but I’m not a guest.” You defended yourself, holding up a manicured finger as you corrected him. “This is my family’s party. I’m technically a host.” 
“Well,” He began, taking a puff of his cigarette, silver smoke spilling from his lips as he spoke. “You’re not being a very good host if you’re hiding up here, are you?” 
You gave him a tight smile, eyebrow cocking as you looked at him. You hadn’t been able to put your finger on it before, but recognition now registered in your mind. 
“I remember you.” You wagged your finger at him, beginning to catch on. “I saw you with May Carleton at Cheltenham in March. Tommy Shelby. I don’t seem to remember my father mentioning that gangsters would be on the guest list tonight.” 
“Why not? We’re good fun at parties.” He replied, shrugging nonchalantly. 
“Cut the shit, Shelby. What are you really doing here?” 
“Well, if you must know,” He sighed, bothered by your incessant questioning, “I’m here to rob your family blind.” 
“Excuse me?” 
“Your father has come into quite a bit of money recently.” Tommy said, words calculated and measured. “He’s been stepping on the Blinders’ business. So, I came here tonight to take back what’s ours.” 
“How much?” You asked.
“A million dollars.” He sighed, punctuating his statement with a drag of his cigarette. 
“You’re seriously admitting to me right now that you came here to steal a million from my family?” 
“You’d hardly miss it.” Tommy explained. “And, with your family’s yearly legendary holiday party going on tonight, I figured I could hide until all the…” He took a second to ponder, searching for the words, “rich fucks down there were drunk enough. Then, I’d take what’s mine and leave. No one would be any the wiser.”
“Well, I’m sorry to ruin your plans, Mr. Shelby, but I won’t stand by-” You said, turning to leave and warn your father. 
“You’re not going back down there.” He interrupted. 
You swivelled back around, glaring at him. 
“Is that a threat?” You spat. “I’m not scared of you.” 
He sighed, shaking his head. 
“You’re not going back down there, because you don’t want to.” 
“What?” You said softly, your tough exterior faltering for a second. 
“I can tell you don’t want to go down there. So don’t.” He said. 
You reached for the doorknob, but as your fingers grazed it you lost your nerve. You sighed, flexing your fingers. Your hand returned to your side. 
“Move.” You ordered, and Tommy listened, sidling closer to the wall as you squeezed next to him, pressed up against him in the cramped space. You plucked the cigarette from his fingers, taking a drag for yourself. You took a breath, carefully considering your next words. 
“It’s not that simple, you know.” You mumbled, eyes trained on the glowing end of the cigarette. 
“Sure it is.” He replied, taking the cigarette back as you passed it to him. 
“It really isn’t.” You chuckled.
“How so?” You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to gaze at him. 
You could hardly fathom why he’d care. Still, you felt the emotions you had kept bottled up all your life bubble up within your throat. You pressed your lips firmly together, fiddling with your fingers nervously as you felt a lump form in your throat. You felt so silly, feeling yourself unravel little by little, all because the criminal you were squashed up against in this tiny room asked you a simple question. But, no one had ever really asked you about how you felt, living in the gilded cage of high society. It felt foreign, sharing your feelings, and you grew nervous at the prospect of having to do so.
“I don’t know.” You muttered, folding your hands in your lap meekly. You could feel the barrage of emotions pooling in your mouth, the true feelings you had kept hidden for so long ready to spill out. “It’s one of our many family traditions, this stupid holiday party. I don’t like any of it.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, just thinking of it making you feel dizzy. “All the parties, all the gossip, all the expectations. If I make one small misstep at one of these, I’m immediately filed under disappointment.” You rolled your eyes, smiling. “I feel…trapped. It’s better to hide than risk being a blemish to the family because I wear the wrong dress, or my soiree conversation isn’t polite enough.” You forced out a laugh. “Sorry. It probably sounds stupid to you.” 
“It doesn’t.” He replied immediately, and you turned to him, a little stunned. “I’m not going to pretend I know all about what it’s like being a high society woman,” He started, earning a little laugh from you, “But, I think you deserve better than this. You should go. Leave it all behind.” 
You smiled, shaking your head. 
“It’s not that simple, Tommy.” 
“It won’t be.” He replied. “But, I think you deserve better than living a life you hate. I’ve heard about you for a while now. As you said, stupid high society gossip. But, meeting you has confirmed it. You’re bold. Brave. Intelligent. You should do what makes you happy.” He paused, thinking over what he wanted to say next. “I… would like to see you happy. I want you to be happy.” He said, trailing off quietly at his final revelation. 
“Really?” You whispered. 
“Really.” He cleared his throat. "And... if you ever need any help, come find me, alright?"
An uncontrollable smile tugged at your lips. You reached out for him, pulling him into a hug. You felt him tense under your embrace, but he soon relaxed, melting into your touch.
“Thank you.” You mumbled into his shirt, cheek pressed against his shoulder. 
“Alright, that’s enough.” He mumbled, patting you awkwardly on the arm, already missing you as you pulled away. 
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, leaning against each other’s shoulders in the small space. 
“Hey, Tommy?” 
“Yeah?” He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised, noses practically brushing each other due to your proximity. 
‘How’d you like some help with stealing that million?” 
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gothicwidowsworld · 2 years
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Let me go T.S
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Thomas Shelby was a passionate man, a man who over time had hardened and could now rule his small but growing kingdom with an iron fist. You have to be either brave as brass or utterly insane to willingly associate with the compelling blue eyed authoritarian. If Thomas Shelby entered your life it could only mean one thing. Death. Death was unforgiving. Death didn’t care who it hurt in the process of stealing someone from this plane of existence. And the death that clung to you after being with Tommy was suffocating. What hurts the most is that when death appears it will come from nowhere, robbing you of the chance of saying goodbye. 
Perhaps that was why Y/N L/N fled, the stench of death was becoming too much. It clung to her to the point of making her delirious. She was trying to outrun her destiny. She was already tired of running, tired of looking behind her back every minute to see if death was closing in or not. But it wasn’t death trailing after her. It wasn’t death watching her every move like a hawk watching its prey. It was Tommy. He couldn’t… wouldn’t let her go. The Great War had changed the pale man, he didn’t laugh anymore. He just watched, his lips constantly forming a tight-lipped smirk. Even before the war he’d been obsessed with Y/N L/N. But when does childhood love turn into strangling tar like obsession? 
Tommy thought if he changed himself enough she would love him again. If he loved her enough she’d become blind to the darkness that loomed over him. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d expected as he waited on her doorstep, a cigarette dangling precariously between his pink lips. Part of him craved a heated romantic reunion, perhaps one of those intense and ardent embraces in those silly books Y/N had poured herself over when they were teenagers. Throwing the dying cigarette to the floor, Tommy’s infamous blue orbs narrowed at the golden door knocker. Thomas Shelby wasn’t a shy or nervous man, he was cool and calculating but in this second he felt like an awkward teenage boy. Whilst debating whether to knock or run away like a coward, the navy blue door opened suddenly. The obstruction revealed the y/h/c woman Tommy had grown to love, but this wasn’t a movie… And Y/N most definitely wasn’t the damsel in distress, nor was she the star studded heroine. Instead he was greeted like a ghost, her soft y/e/c orbs hard as she practically stared straight through him. It was like he wasn’t there, his gentle touch was nothing but a slight breeze of a warm spring day. “Leave me alone!” Y/N hissed coldly. Despite her anger laced tone, Tommy took no heed. Instead choosing to flicker his frozen lakes of blue over the y/h young woman's figure. He couldn’t help but laugh, she looked like a girl playing dress up. She was donned in something Tommy guessed was fashionable. But it wasn’t her. It wasn’t the Small Heath Y/N. She was playing a game, trying to forget him and all the negativity he brought with him. 
“Come home Y/N/N” Tommy implored desperately but lacking sincerity. If she wanted to play make believe Tommy would quite happily play along. 
He wanted to stand tall and be the man his taste of war had made him. The Tommy that everyone had become used to. But that stoic man vanished as he watched the girl he loved stand firm before his very eyes. Her usual sweet smile has disappeared, replaced by a tight-lipped scowl and a glare that burnt worse than the pits of hell. “This is my home Thomas.” Y/N replied simply, gesturing at the brick and mortar she’d claimed as her place of safety. Tutting Thomas shook his head in disagreement, “That hurts me Love.” was all he said, he spoke slowly almost drowsily. “You know what I meant.” the older man added, his tone remained even. “I always know what you mean Mr Shelby.” Y/N began knowing the use of his surname was sure to sting, but she wanted to twist the knife just a fraction deeper. “But I think you’re a delirious old fool.” the y/h/c young woman spoke enunciating each word like it would be her last. If Tommy was death and her time had run out she’d make damn sure she’d break his heart before she met God. 
“Thomas Shelby is an idiot if he thinks I’m going anywhere with him!” Y/N laughed arrogantly, the anger she’d locked away burning through her like acid. It was a hurricane, a flame of rage prepared to burn anything it came into contact with down to the ground. “You’re coming home and you’re coming home now” The dark haired man replied eerily calm, ignoring the unladylike scoff that came from the volatile young woman. “Even if I have to drag you kicking and screaming.” Tommy whispered assertively with a smirk.  
“Why couldn’t you just let me go?!” Y/N repeated this time barely above a whisper. “Because I love you too much to let you go. People could use you to get to me. Nasty people.” Tommy replied, placing a rough hand on the young woman’s soft cheek. Tightening his grip on her y/s/c face Tommy narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Her familiar y/h/c locks sat naturally, slightly cascading over her shoulders. She still smelled of the summer meadows they’d made their kingdoms. But something was off. The scent of cigar smoke had entwined itself with her familiar delicate scent. But she was home, it didn’t matter where in the world he was as long as he had her. And Tommy wouldn’t make the mistake of letting her go. Not this time. Not ever. 
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holy-minseok · 5 months
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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂
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garrison-girl-08 · 4 months
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A Gentle Warning
Pairing - Thomas Shelby and Wife Reader
Request from @crispynutella
I’ve always wanted to read something about the reader being Tommy’s wife during the whole Grace season 1 arc. Like Grace would be trying to get closer to him but Tommy is not allowing it because he has a wife that he is head over heels for. Jealous reader but quiet version maybe?
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Feeling Tommy press a kiss to your head, you dragged your eyes away from the numbers. Offering him a smile, he was fixing his hat on top of his head. He liked it to sit just right, pulling on his leather gloves. He bent again, to press a kiss to your lips. Catching his hand, you pulled him closer.
"Bloody hell, you two are putting me off my fish paste sandwich," Arthur bellowed, with a mouthful of food. Proceeding to wipe the crumbs from his shirt, onto the floor.
"Who even eats fish paste? The war is over remember, Arthur," you teased, letting Tommy pull you to standing.
"Nothing wrong with this, Y/n. Done me no harm, growing up," he sniffed, taking a swig from his hip flask.
Slipping his office key into your pocket, Tommy brushed a loose curl from your forehead. "Can you make sure that's locked, ey?" His tongue ran across his lips, "I have a meeting at the yard, then I will meet you at The Garrison?"
Checking the time, on Tommy's pocket watch you leant against him. "I should be about an hour, I just want to double check the takings," you gestured with your eyes towards Arthur. He was taking another large swig from his flask.
"That's my girl, ey," he mused, leaning closer to your ear. "Might have something waiting for you at home,"
"Might?" you asked, face lighting up, “Like what?”
Grinning to himself, he winked while walking away. “Make sure you walk Y/n to the pub, and cut down on the booze, ey,” he warned Arthur, receiving a grumble in reply.
Watching your husband go, you felt your usual pang of worry. Plus, you knew that would only increase when you got to The Garrison. The new bloody barmaid was all over him, like a fly on shit. You could see straight through her. She wanted him. She practically drooled, when she looked at him.
“That a no, then?” You heard Arthur ask, clearly waiting for an answer.
"Hmm?" you asked, snapping out of your daydream.
"You don't want a swig?" Arthur chuckled to himself, watching you shake your head going back to work.
Reaching the pub over an hour later, you could hear the rest of the family in the snug. Grace no where to be seen. Good. There was only so much of her ogling your husband, you would accept. Arthur held open the door, for you. The whole room fell silent.
Polly and Tommy looking at you, guilt across their face.
“Don’t stop gossiping, just because we have arrived,” you joked, wondering if they had been discussing you or Arthur.
“Just business, love,” Tommy lied, patting the seat next to him. Polly shook her head, lighting a cigarette. You could practically see the anger, oozing out of her. What had Tommy done this time?
“Here you go, Mr Shelby,” you heard, here she was the blonde tart. Placing the drinks onto the table, she smiled at Tommy. A hint of a blush forming on her cheeks. "Let me know if you need anything else," Shooting you a quick look, she reversed out of the room.
Feeling Tommy rest his hand on your knee, you scooted closer to him. He was actually oblivious to Grace's advances. You had observed him, when she was around. He hardly glanced in her direction. But maybe, that was when you were here?
The more you thought about it, the angrier you felt.
"I love you in this dress," Tommy grinned, brushing his fingers over the material. Tilting his head to the side, he pressed his lips against yours. "Was thinking we could go to London for the night, before Christmas? Just us, hmm?"
"I would like that," you beamed, interlacing your hand in his.
"You sure you have time for that, Thomas?" Polly asked, her dark eyes narrowing. "You have a lot to deal with here?"
"And it will all be dealt with in good time, Pol," he countered back, his body tensing.
Standing, you brushed your dress down. "Just nipping to the bathroom," This was your opportunity, Tommy distracted with his family. The pub was relatively quiet. Leaving the snug, your eyes searched for her.
Where the hell was she?
You sashayed across the wooden floor, your heels clicking as you went. The cellar? Tiptoeing down, your adrenaline was racing through your body. You had no plan, of what you were even going to say. Grace was balancing three bottles of whiskey in her arms, when she noticed you.
"Ah, Mrs Shelby, is everything ok?" she asked, in her sickly sweet voice.
Slightly pouting, you debated her question, while leaning against the wall. "Hmm, you tell me Grace?" You purposely spoke slowly, enjoying watching her squirm.
Blinking rapidly, she looked towards the staircase. Panic showing on her face. "I.. I don't understand, Mrs Shelby," Grace took a step back.
Sighing, you held out your left hand. Two gold rings sat upon your third finger. One with a diamond, Mrs Shelby yes that was you. "See this ring?" you asked, showing her, as you slowly approached. "You know what that means?"
Swallowing deeply, Grace nodded. "Yes,"
"Tell me," you smirked at her. "Tell me what you think?"
"That you are married," she responded, glancing upstairs again. Could she make a run for it?
"No need to be nervous," you chuckled, "We are just chatting, just two ladies having a chat. But, yes, you are correct, it does mean that," You were now centimetres, away from her. "So stay the fuck away from my husband, don't look at him, don't talk to him, got it?"
Nodding profusely, you noticed her breathing was shallow. "Yes,"
Looking her up and down, you smiled sweetly. "Good, I will only warn you once," Pushing the whiskey from her arms, you watched it clatter onto the floor. Smashing into smithereens, all over her clothes.
"Oops," you shrugged, walking back upstairs.
Entering the snug again, they all turned to look up at you. "Where have you been, Y/n Shelby?" Polly asked, a knowing look on her face. Sitting back down, you let Tommy wrap his arm around your shoulders.
"Oh, just chatting to the barmaid," you answered casually, leaning to pick your drink up.
"You wanna go home, love?" Tommy asked, stubbing out his cigarette. Totally oblivious, to what you had done. But, Polly knew you too well.
"Yeah, why not? I've finished here," you smiled, looking through the window of the snug. Grace staring back at you, wiping the whiskey from her dress.
Saying your goodbyes, Tommy held open the door for you. Pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Ready for your present now?" he asked quietly, voice rumbling against your ear.
"More than ready," you answered, not taking your eyes of Grace. "Goodnight Grace," you called over your shoulder, letting Tommy take your hand to lead you home.
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darkshelbyfiction · 6 months
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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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starkwlkr · 8 months
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barbenheimer | cillian murphy
this was supposed to be posted on friday which was the release date for both movies but i was in mexico and i had no signal 😭 also i will always be a whore for cillian murphy 🫶🏼🫶🏼 he’s literally the reason i watched a quiet place 2 twice sooooo
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liked by ameliadimz, ariana_greenblatt and 4,277,280 others
barbiethemovie TEASER TRAILER OUT NOW!
y/nmymother this is going to heal my depression
murphyfam y/n and cillian having their movies come out on the same day is so iconic of them
pascalismybf clearing my schedule just for them on july 21st
violetdelights y/n: 💕💖🌸💓💝🌷🎀🩰 cillian: 🖤⚫️💣🔪🧍🏻🔥💥🧨
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y/nl/nmurphy has added to their story
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liked by barbiethemovie, oppenheimermovie and 5,277,288 others
y/nl/nmurphy cillian and I spending today with the birthday boy instead of working. happy birthday, my sweet boy!!
barbiethemovie he’s more than kenough! happy birthday, alexander!
florencepugh what a legend! auntie flo sends so much love to the birthday boy❤️
tomhardy my godson is looking great! love you alex!
extratv barbenheimer day? no, it’s alexander murphy day!
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5K notes · View notes
willsdreamgirl · 7 months
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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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drcranessweetestdoe · 1 month
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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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beiasluv · 8 months
Text
tattoo? | modern!thomas shelby
a/n: i’m sorry, i hav no idea how to write segsual tensions 😩
enjoyyy 😉
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“i don’t recall seeing you in the school with john?” thomas chuckled as he propped himself up on his elbows, revealing his upper body underneath the covers.
“do you?”
well…all it took was a simple call from your friend, john, asking you to check on his hangover brother. it all took a couple minutes to drive to the shelbys home and to walk up to his room.
some painkillers, a glass of water, and a toast were offered and accepted because you knew he would appreciate them after a long night. and it all took a smoke-filled brain and his ruffled sheets for you to spend a ‘couple of minutes’ to heal his hangover.
it was a platonic relationship between you two. well- you thought. being in school with john you were honored with the opportunity to see his brothers in the picture frames whenever you visit the his home. honored or not, you never really met the man and the moment. until now…
right. so where were we?
“so you were the ‘hot brother’ everyone was gushing about when you pick john up in your car?” you shook your head and wiped the fake tears. “to be frank, weren’t you a senior…or in college when john and i was in grade-school together?” you chuckled as you leaned on his drawer, crossing your arms together.
his room was fairly old yet new. the shelbys’s got a reputation for it. an empty king size bed, only occupied by the king of this room. thomas shelby was someone in your- let’s say- outer circle. so many chances to acquaintance, but never did.
he was always fond of smoking, cigarettes or typically anything you could think of. but mostly cigarettes. just by being in his room alone could get you high as hell. his glowing blue eyes stared into your face but you felt it in your soul.
“you don’t gotta make me feel old, darlin’”
“right. just keep in mind that you roamed the word 15 years before me; let that sink in”
“it’s called experience, love. so tell me, what do i do to have the pleasure of a young and lovely woman to take care of me?” thomas grinned as he leaned his head on the headboard.
“it’s only for the sake that john is a good friend of mine”
“so i only deserve the title of your ‘friend’s hot brother?’,” he puffed a drag from his poor little cigarette.
“might want to remove the ‘hot’ part,” you sighed sarcastically. “anything else you might need, mr. shelby?”
“would it be so foul for me to ask for a kiss? perhaps on the lips if you feel so brave?” his infamous smile of straight teeth peaked out of his lips. gosh, you never forget that picture on the wall downstairs. he was young but not naive, being particularly cheeky in that picture.
clearing you throat, “anything tangible object do you want?”
“a kiss is tangible”
“i won’t be known as the bitch who kiss her friend’s brother, shelby”
“why not? it makes a good thanksgiving dinner conversation,” he grinned as he took a puff.
sighing, you made your way to his bed. then brushing your fingers against his, you grabbed the cigarette out of his grasp and put it in its grave of ash tray. crouching down next to his bed, you pulled his covers up to his waist, “you’re drunk, shelby.”
“and you’re not”
“was it a whiskey or a vodka or…a rum, hm? a bachelor’s party of yours or someone else?” he had to stop looking at you with those blue eyes or you’ll crumble under him sooner or later. and you were trying your hardest to ignore the sensation of his salt nd’ pepper hair brushing on your arms.
“trust me, i don’t plan on tying the knot with her anytime soon, and what’s the rush? have a boy waiting at home for you?” his head was tilted and you were quite sure that his intentions were the same.
you shook your head. “i don’t have one. and i don’t plan on finding one soon,” an unexpected sigh left your mouth.
“how do i know that a woman so lovely as you are not lying to an old man?” shelby inched his face closer to yours.
“how can i? i have nothing to show-”
“your phone, darling”
-
that was how you found yourself sitting on the edge of his bed. eyeing him while he tried his best to dig up your phone. his fingers maneuvered around the apps, through your chats, instagram, and photo albums. which he successfully viewed all your embarrassing pictures, but you’d say it was a success that you proved him wrong.
“soo…? congratulations, you’ve found nothing,” smiling as you welcomed your phone back to your loving arms.
“what a shame,” he grinned and perked at you. “no dms were replied, are you more of a love letter girl?”
“well…isn’t that most of them are just trying to fuck and go?” you rolled your eyes and grinned sarcastically at him.
he took his time staring at your eyes, down to your lips. if only you’d knew how to read mind, you would be disgusted by this thoughts.
clearing your throat, you quipped, “it’s only fair if i’d get to look at your phone as well.”
“why not?” he grinned as he handed you his phone.
gaining the access to his phone, you wasted no time to scroll through it. god knows what this phone has been through. the little cracks made it look ancient, but story-wise, it’s a treasure. the pictures of him wrapping an arm around a lady, made a pang on your chest. her smile flashed across your eyes, and your heart. why were you so dramatic? everything was fine, you were only here because of john.
you are not the other woman.
but- he was in a relationship. you’ve known this- right? it felt so disgusting yet so attractive at the same time. how could you be such a bitch to be sitting on his bed? the one he used to make love with another woman? disgusting. you fucking hate cheaters, don’t you? you fucking hate him-but, gosh, how could you hate those soft, dreamy, and sweet set of blue eyes?
“y/n?”
“oh- yes?”
“so…found something interesting?” he grinned softly as he wrapped his arms around your back. fuck- those calloused hands sent a shiver down your spine. scrolling through his photos, you tapped on a picture of…a tattoo?
“i didn’t know you have a tattoo?” you perked at him, looking at his lips- i mean- his eyes.
“yes. would you like to see it?”
“if you’d want to-”
“anything for you, darling,” he chuckled as he unbuttoned his white collared shirt- well, most of them were undone during the party, you’d assume. throwing them on his bed, a stripe of calvin klein peeked from the black slacks he wore last night. grinning at your face, he turned his back to you.
you followed down his shoulder and down his to his upper back. his soft and reddish flesh laid in front of you like a five-course meal. those freckles adorned his skin like the stars in the night sky. you could almost feel the tender bulge of his shoulder blade. soft, but sharp enough to cut your tingling fingers.
pushing the thing in your throat down, you’ve managed to quipped out. “wow- i mean- stupid question, but…did it hurt?”
“it did hurt, but it’s bearable,” he smiled as he ran his fingers through his hair. you’d bet they are soft yet rough enough when they course your skin. “you have any tattoos?”
“no- no i don’t,” you cleared your throat and letting out a chuckle, “you’ve got a thing for tattoos?”
“i could find them very attractive in certain spots,” he leaned his body back, resting the weight on his wrists. thomas couldn’t help his eyes from traveling down your back. “you?”
“i mean- tattoos were never my thing, but i’ve seen some that are fine as hell”
“which are?” his head twisted to face you and you could see his hair flopping in the same direction. right- tattoos.
without a doubt, you unlocked your phone and searched your trusty-google for a hip bone tattoo. thomas leaned over your shoulders to feed his curiosity. with each picture popping up, thomas felt as if each of his quench for thirst was satisfied.
“i definitely know a better place for you, love,” he blurted out. “if only you’re interested, of course.”
.
“which is?”
you expected him to open his mouth and relive you from your curiosity, but instead his finger traced down from your neck to your spine, and stopping at a very dangerously low area. he gave you a slight tap, which sent goosebumps down your arms, and smirked. his face inched closer to yours and to your ear, “your lower back, darlin’.”
.
“what-?” you coughed on air, “i- no, i don’t like wearing low-rise jeans or open-back shirts”
“who says you need to show it off for the public eye?”
“i-” your lips were met with his finger, stopping any more excuses from flying out.
“no more excuses. i know you’ll look sweeter with a tattoo on your lower back”
“but-”
“no buts. let me show you”
“how-?”
“lay on your stomach for me, love”
“i’m sorry?” you felt as if the air bubble was coming up your throat again. fuck- could your stomach stop twisting for a minute. thomas fucking shelby is asking you to lay down on his bed.
“i…said, lay down on your stomach for me, love”
“no-”
“please, i insist”
with all the strength you could mustered, you pushed yourself up from the edge of his bed and crawled on top of it. with each sink of the duvet under your hand, your stomach felt as if it is sinking a thousand times deeper. ignoring his burning gaze on your body, you lowered yourself on his soft bed.
the silky smooth fabric greeted your skin, but for some reason you felt a burning sensation under your skin. how could you be so disgusting and disrespectful to his lover? resting your head on your arms, you wiped the tears escaping your eyes. fuck- stop crying.
“can i give you a lovebite, darlin’?” you nodded without hesitation, even though you knew. you knew, it could have been just a ‘lust’ bite.
his calloused finger traced its way down your spine to your lower back. hooking his finger to your bottom, he revealed the “not-so” revealing area of yours. without a warning, his teeth sunk onto your soft flesh, gaining a jolt from you. his soft yet coarse lips met your flesh, creating a suction just enough to create a popping sound when he lift his head off your soft back.
an airy gasp escaped from your lungs to your mouth. biting your lips but you couldn’t hold them in. you heard a chuckle sounded from behind your back. his messy duvet you’ve been clenching on was a little less messy when you released it from your grasps. and you couldn’t help to realize you’ve been arching your back under him- fuck.
gasping for air, you heard a camera click and thomas sliding down on his bed next to you. kissing your tears away, he slid the phone towards you.
a picture that you could only imagine was your lower back flesh, puffy and reddened, labeled with a bite mark. tiny sips of blood could be seen through the thin layers, just nothing major
“so…fancy a lower back tattoo?”
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shewrites444 · 8 months
Text
arranged [thomas shelby x reader smut]
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[ i’ve never written about one of cillian murphy’s characters but oppenheimer has me feeling a bit inspired lately. i haven’t watched peaky blinders in ages, so apologizes if it’s not completely accurate to the storyline. ]
[update: arranged part 2 ]
word count - 2.1k
[ summary - the reader and tommy agree to an arranged marriage that suits both of their needs. despite their disliking of each other, the two seem quite fond of each other in the bedroom, especially on their wedding night. ]
[ warnings - enemies to lovers trope that includes unprotected sex, oral, roughness, etc ]
-
thomas shelby was the last man i ever imagined myself being wedded to, but when my father unexpectedly passed and i no longer had the protection of his people, i had to find another way to make sure i wouldn’t be a victim to any gangs of birmingham - including the peaky blinders.
of course, tommy would never have married me if there wasn’t something i could offer him in return - that happened to be a ton of inherited money from my father, and several breweries i now technically owned, and numerous meeting spots that only i knew about, that the coppers would never find him or his family at, during anytime of the day.
despite the convenience of our arrangement, there was nothing favorable for either of us past the business side of things. our families had been at each other’s throats for years and now that my father was gone, a lot of that tension was, but nevertheless, you can’t expect a peaky blinder to not hold a grudge, even on their wedding night.
“see, that wasn’t so bad.” i mutter to my newly wed husband, walking into the dimly lit bedroom as i took off my white heels, setting them aside the now shut door. i watch as tommy began to unbutton his white dress shirt, and i sigh to myself, but loud enough to quirk his brow.
i tuck my hair behind my ears, walking to the bed and pulling the sheets down to prepare for what would hopefully be a fairly long sleep, given that i’d prefer not think much about who i was now standing across from.
“you don’t have to stay in here tonight if you don’t want to or even at all, tommy. you already have children and i’m aware you don’t want more, and frankly, i don’t want any, so just lie and tell polly the marriage was consummated tomorrow morning. go on.” i gesture my hand up and towards the door, watching his blank expression as i spoke in a more demanding, harsh manner.
he walked towards the bed, untucking his side, his shirt now unbuttoned and his toned, pale body at my exposure, which only made my cheeks redden as the muscles flexed with his movements. i may have despised the man for his profession, but it’s not like he wasn’t physically attractive.
“i may not be so found of you, mrs. shelby, but i do keep my marriage duties, at least to sleep beside you.” he says plainly, sitting down on the white sheets before looking up to me with a teasing expression. it almost felt wrong to see him show any emotion besides, well, none. “now, do i have to make you turn around while i fuck you, or can you bare the sight of me while doing so?”
i roll my eyes with a smirk, laying down and hovering my face above his before biting my bottom lip, glancing at his own with a bit of temptation, but nothing i couldn’t ignore for the sake of my ego. “i’m shocked you even asked to touch me, mr. shelby. peaky blinders have always seemed so forward with what they want.”
he tilted his head, his well-groomed hair bouncing lightly at the movement, now reaching over to hold the back of my neck, running his fingertips through the ends of my hair. “would you prefer i not ask? you didn’t strike me as the type of woman who’d prefer to be fucked like an animal.”
“you didn’t strike me as the type of man to wait until we were wed to even discuss sex, so we’re both a bit surprised. have you been distracted with other women through our engagement, dear husband?”
he scoffed at my comment, sitting up and leaning himself down to peck at my neck lightly, his heated breath against my tingling skin, a pit forming in my stomach at the touch he never dared grant me until now.
“you never gave me any suggestion to fuck before tonight, [y/n]. i assumed you wouldn’t allow me to lay a finger on you. this all seemed like a business opportunity, a plan for protection and financies, nothing more.” he muttered through his kisses, trailing his lips down to my covered chest before looking up to me again. “so, how about i ask you like a gentlemen, mrs. shelby. is this for business, or not?”
i shrug softly, glancing down to meet his seductive, icy blue eyes. “i think i’ll be able to tell if it is or not when you fuck me, mr. shelby."
he reached over to pull me on top of him, grabbing the white gown that dressed me and helping me to slip it off my core and past my arms, tossing it to the floor, which exposed me in nothing but my underwear, my breasts falling out of the fabric and resting before him. he took one hand to hold my back, the other cupping one breast and his thumb flicking at the hardening nipple. i feel him push me down, his lips attaching to the bud as i let out a soft moan, shocked by how sensual thomas shelby could be if directed to do so.
i could feel the bulge in his pants growing, beginning to grind myself against the black pants while he fondled my breasts with his mouth and free hand, the other that was once on my back now guiding itself down to my ass. he pulled himself away from my breast, panting softly to himself as the tension began to increase between our moving bodies.
“take off your panties and lay down on your back, won't you.” he said to me in a more demanding tone. i stood up and did so, spreading my legs before him as he undressed himself at the side of the bed, soon leaning down in front of me.
i chew my bottom lip at the sight of the man before me, but gasp as his tongue links to my clit, swirling and flicking around the sensitive bud of skin, while i only grow wetter through his touch and the saliva that collected against my entrance. i reach down to hold his head of black hair, my other hand resting against my chest while he continued to give me nothing but pleasure.
“this… this doesn’t seem… like b-business to me…” i stutter my words, my back arching at every sensitive touch he brought to my body. my words made him pull away, a smirk on his wet lips as he stuck one finger inside of me, pumping and curling it slowly enough to draw a loud moan from my lips before pulling it out right after.
he leaned down and gestured for me to open my mouth, sticking his finger inside for me to taste my own juices before pulling it out and licking it himself.
“neither does this, how wet you are for me. are you sure you want to take back the consummation of our arrangement, hm? it seems you like my tongue, mrs. shelby. do you think i’ll like yours?” he grinned, standing up and pointing his full erection towards me, holding it in one hand as i sat up on the bed.
i blush, getting off of the bed and onto my knees before him. i take his length into one hand, pumping it slowly as i look up to him, our eyes locked when i lean forward and take his tip into mouth, a heavy sigh coming from his lips as i begin to suck him off. he was thick and much longer than any man i’d ever been with, and frankly, if we were to sleep together tonight, i was a bit nervous of how my body would take him and the aftermath of it all tomorrow morning.
“fuck, fill your throat with me, [y/n]..” he moaned, both hands holding the back of my head as he thrusted himself towards my face. i took his cock down my throat, my eyes closing almost immediately as a tear runs down my cheek from the unexpected penetration, moving my head back and forth as his balls slap against my wet chin.
he tilted his head, mouth hung open as he watched me take him down my throat. i could hear his breath cutting short each time he thrusted, his cock twitching inside my mouth as he edged himself through each stroke. when he could tell through my reddening expression and glossy eyes that i was a bit overstimulated, he slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, leaning down to help me back on my feet and onto the bed.
he kneeled down before me, grabbing my face with both hands and pressing a passionate kiss against my lips, his tongue pushing itself into my mouth, which distracted me from the way he was moving my body off the bed again. he wraps his arms around me and guides me across the room and to the dresser, where he then breaks the kiss and turns me around, bending my body against the wood to where i made eye contact with the mirror that connected the furniture.
"i think this is worth the watch, don't you?" he teases, a devilish smirk across his face as he takes my neck in one hand, the other trailing before my pussy, his index and middle fingers attaching to my clit as he pushes himself inside of me without warning.
i gasp, watching my mouth open as he begins to fuck me, hard, against the dresser. the stimulation above my insides didn't make this any easier to take, given the fact i could already feeling my climax building in a matter of seconds.
i rest both palms against the wood, watching tommy's lips trail to my shoulder as he kissed against my sweating skin, leaving fresh hickeys from time to time, marking me like i was more than just an arrangement to him. if anything, this showed me that thomas shelby may not favor me, but he sure wanted the world to know i was his wife, and no one else's.
"i could fuck you all day, [y/n]. nothing fucking... compares to... how good you feel, fuck.." he muttered between kisses, looking up to meet my eyes in the mirror, his hand moving from my neck to hold my left breast tightly, halting it from bouncing throughout his thrusts. "do you feel me as much as i feel you?"
i nod, mouth still hung open, unable to even speak a word as tommy pulled my body closer, his fingers digging into my clit and forcing me to arch my back down, my ass pressing against him and causing even harsher friction between our bodies while he quickened his pace at the touch, the sound of our skin slapping together overpowering the bedroom.
i suddenly feel his arm wrap around my waist, and then the other, holding me so close and his body leaned so far down my back was touching his core. he thrusted deeper, further than what i even thought was possible for him to go, and so much so to the point i was in immense pain, but god, it felt so fucking good. his cock overpowered my entire body, and i felt my orgasm rushing to the surface, fluids leaking out from inside of me past himself and dripping between my legs, his own orgasm filling my insides within a matter of seconds after.
i feel him slide out of me, catching his own breath and helping turn me around to face him. he takes my hand and places the other on my back, guiding me to the bed once more and laying me down, pulling the sheet on top of me to cover my stomach down, my breasts exposed to the cold air. i feel his lips against my chest, lightly kissing from my nipples, to my shoulders, to my neck, and to my lips, once more. he smiles softly, and genuinely, to me, before snapping out of his sappy mood to grab a cigarette from the nightstand, lighting it.
"do you think we'll be doing this again?" he asks quietly, handing me the cigarette. "doesn't seem like it would be a negative thing to add to our arrangement, eh?"
i smirk, blowing the smoke out from my lips and towards the ceiling. "i wouldn't be opposed, but if you fuck me that hard every time, i'm not sure i would be able to get out of bed the next morning."
he chuckled to himself, standing up and walking to the other side of the bed, sliding himself into the sheets and putting out the cigar. he took me into his arms, lighting running his hand across my hair. "we can see about that. goodnight, mrs. shelby."
i rest my head against his chest, closing my eyes and smiling to myself, partially hoping tommy wouldn't see my vunerability.
"goodnight, mr. shelby."
3K notes · View notes
babyflorencee · 3 months
Text
Haunted House
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Jonathan Crane x fem!Reader
"Johnny, please. I don't want to go in," I whined, tugging on the sleeve of my best friend, as we started to near the entrance.
"Come on darling, I'll be right next to you the whole time," he said, intertwining our fingers together, giving my hand a small but reassuring squeeze.
I nodded my head, holding on to his hand tighter when I realized we were the next people in line to go in. "Okay, next," the lady said, nodding her head to Jonathan and I.
"Have fun," she sinisterly said, smiling widely at us, causing me to hug Jonathan as if my life depended on it.
"Don't be scared, love, she says that to everyone," he said, laughing a little as he hugged me back.
We walked through the blood-stained door to be greeted with a room that looked identical to a meat locker. Taking a deep breath, I looked around the room noticing that there were meat hooks, hanging animals, hanging body part, black and white flashing lights making it harder to see, not to mention the room was so cold that smoke appeared whenever someone talked, or even breathed.
I looked over at Jonathan, seeing an amused look on his face. He had this psychopathic, crazed look in his eyes, making me nervous at the thought of this amusing him. "Jon, I don't like this," I whispered, looking up at him.
"How? This is so fascinating. The affects the smoke, the blood, the animals, not to mention the screams. Don't you like it?" He said, smiling like a little boy who just got handed ice cream. 
I knew he liked these things. He has been trying to convince me to go with him to a haunted house for years. But something about him getting pleasure from other people's fears seemed a bit off to me. But I never really cared to think about it. I was just grateful enough at the fact that he let me cling onto him, since he was the polar opposite of affectionate. He hated giving and receiving any form of affection.
"No, I don't Jon," I said, giving him a weird look as he just rolled his eyes in response. 
We kept walking for what seemed as if forever, when all of a sudden, this overly tall guy that was wearing a white apron with blood and slashes all over it and who was carrying a big, butcher knife, jumps from behind the door causing me to let out the loudest, blood curling scream I had ever heard. I practically jumped onto Jonathan, burying my head into his neck, on the verge of tears, as he was now forced to carry me.
All he did was let out a laugh, reaching over a little to pat me on the head, "It's okay little one, I'm here to protect you." The mockery in his tone being very apparent.
After the second jump scare, I ended up forcing Jonathan to carry me until we reached the end of the haunted house, making him swear on my life that he will never bring me to another one of these things ever again. 
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huntingingoodwill · 1 year
Text
you’re! ruining! date! night! (j.c.)
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masterlist
send requests for my 1.3k sleepover!
requested by: anon
prompt: "i've waited so long for this."
a/n: main atrocity in this is the reader using a fork to eat korean fried chicken instead of a gloved hand. i stand by the hc that jonathan is vegetarian all week except for fridays where he gets a free pass. please enjoy.
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“I’ve waited so long for this.” Jon’s breath was warm against your shoulder as he sighed into it. He pressed his nose into the crook of your neck, his dark, dishevelled hair brushing against your jaw. 
Your nose scrunched at the ticklish sensation, laughter bubbling in your throat as you leaned away. His arms locked themselves around your waist, circling you in even as you tried to squirm out his grasp. 
“Maybe,” You began, adding oil to the saucepan, tilting it and watching as the liquid lazily circled around its surface, “You wouldn’t have to wait so long for date night if you didn’t insist on spending every night working late at Arkham.” 
“Don’t get smart with me.” He deadpanned, chest rumbling against your back as he grumbled. 
“Oh,” You sighed, overly saccharine in your sarcasm. “No one could ever be smarter than you, darling.” 
You felt him tense behind you, arms growing still around your waist. 
“Oh Jon, I was just teasing! I hope you aren’t gonna get into one of your moods again-” You sighed, trying to placate him when he cut you off, clapping his hand over your mouth. 
He lifted his finger to his lips, bright blue eyes alert as they darted around the room.
“He’s here.” He whispered, eyes turning toward the front door of his apartment. 
Slowly, he raised his arm, fingers feeling across the wall until he found the light switch. Click. The apartment plunged into darkness. You glanced at Jon, watching as he clenched his jaw, steeling himself as the pale, cold moonlight streaming in through the window casted him in its glow. 
He lifted his hand from your lips, pushing down on your shoulder. You followed his prompt, crouching down, shrouded by darkness in a shadowy corner of his kitchen. 
His gaze never leaving the front door, he smoothed a reassuring hand over your hair as you, tucked your legs into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. 
He crept toward the door, feeling for his briefcase as he stepped through the living room. He took his time, opening the black, leather case open at a painstakingly slow speed. The click of its closures cut through the silence, the air thick with tension. He felt for a vial of his toxin, feeling its cool glass in his clammy hand. He reached for his mask, slipping it over his head. 
He reached out for the door knob. You watched, silencing yourself, hand held over your mouth. You could feel your laboured breath against your palm. 
His fingers barely grazed the door knob before it burst open, Batman’s silhouette illuminated in the light of the dingy hall. You rolled your eyes. This guy again. 
“Looks like I found you, Dr. Crane.” He growled, swinging at Jon. 
Jon managed to dodge the first one, but the next one caught him in the jaw, and you winced as you watched him bob backward, almost stumbling to the floor as he blinked away the pain. 
Bruce used that moment of vulnerability, shoving him against the wall with such force the window rattled in its pane. 
“You’re going away for a long, long ti-!” Bruce’s raspy voice trailed off into a squeak as you crept up behind him from the kitchen, bashing him on the head with your saucepan. 
“You’re!” Smack. “Ruining!” Bang. “Date!” Whack. “Night!” You screamed, using all your might to hit him on the head, over and over. 
He became very still, blinking, and you worried for a moment that you’d get out of this in cuffs, and he’d only sustain a couple of light bruises. 
Then, dazed, he fell to the floor. 
You huffed, wicking sweat away from your brow as his heavy body laid sprawled out on the floor. Your chest heaved from exertion, and, suddenly exhausted, you allowed the pan to slip out your hand, clattering to the floor. 
You fell into Jon’s arms as he wrapped his arms around you, smoothing down your hair. 
“I’m too tired to cook.” You grumbled into his shoulder. “I think I can’t, anyway. The pan’s dented. My poor pan.”  
“I’ll get you a new one.” Jon cooed, gently rocking back and forth as the two of you stood, wilting into each other’s arms, ignoring the unconscious body on the floor. 
You sighed, cheek pressing into the sharp bone of Jon’s shoulder as you nodded down at Bruce. 
“What do we do? Date night’s ruined. And there’s the matter of him, of course.” 
“No,” Jon said, putting his hands on your shoulders. “It’s not ruined yet. I know what to do.” 
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“Hm..?” Bruce grumbled, the fog that clouded his eyes, making the world around him a blur, slowly lifting as he blinked away sleep. “Huh…what…? Where- Crane!”  He yelled, registering where he was. 
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” You smiled, your voice so bright it cut through the throbbing pain blooming all across Bruce’s head. You sauntered over from the front door, kicking it shut with your heel as two bags of takeaway hung off your hands, swinging with every step you took. 
You set down the boxes on the dining table, three places already set: you, Jon, and a last minute setting for Bruce, tied up to the dining room chair. 
His arms strained against the rope, and he struggled, only succeeding in rocking the wooden chair back and forth, its legs squeaking across the floor. 
Jon came over, two beer bottles in hand. He held one up to his mouth, pulling the cap off with his teeth, the sound of the fizzy drink sizzling from the bottle. 
“Cool, huh?” You gushed to Bruce, keeping your hands busy as you opened up the takeaway boxes. The greasy, fragrant smell of Korean fried chicken filled the air. “It’s one of his most redeemable qualities.” You cooed, laughing as Jon rolled his eyes. 
“Hush.” He mumbled, bringing the other bottle to his lips. 
“That, and I broke the bottle opener.” You whispered. 
You skewered a piece of the tender chicken with a fork, wagging it in front of Bruce. 
“Here comes the choo choo train! No?” You frowned as Bruce glared at you, gaze dripping with derision. 
“C’mon, I promise it’s good! Say ahhhhh!” You exclaimed. 
Bruce inhaled, taking a deep sigh, wishing he had chosen a different career path. 
“Ahhh.” He grumbled, opening his mouth and allowing you to feed him a piece of chicken, chewing irritatedly. 
“Good job.” You smiled. 
You turned to Jon, catching his eye as he raised an eyebrow at you. 
“Don’t be jealous.” You quipped, a cheeky smile growing on your face. You stabbed another piece of chicken onto the fork, making your way over to Jon. 
You slid into his lap, feeding him a piece before throwing your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his stubbled cheek as he hummed gratefully. 
“Ew.” You heard a voice grumble behind you, turning to see a disgusted Bruce, all but forced to watch your displays of affection. 
“You’re the one who interrupted our date night!” You laughed, Jon’s hands wrapping around your waist. 
“Get a room.” He huffed. 
“You’re in our apartment!”
824 notes · View notes
ssweetleaf · 2 months
Text
dark blue.
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tommy shelby x fem!reader
summary: you're finn's girlfriend- and you've always received the same question, what's a good girl like you doing with a boy like him? funnily enough, his older brother thomas wonders the same thing.
includes: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, age-gap (tommy is in his early 40s, reader early 20s, though it isn't specified), innocence kink/corruption kink, cheating, daddy kink, oral (male rec), throat fucking, cum-eating, based on this ask here
a/n: feedback is always very much appreciated!! <3
⋆✰
“What’s a good girl like you doin’ with a boy like Finn, eh?”
It was a common saying you'd get from various people over the few months that you'd been seeing a certain Finn Shelby-- you were used to it, the constant stares of disbelief that someone like you, someone so sweet, with pretty dresses and full of radiance would want anything to do with an up-and-coming gangster.
It was love, at least that's what you told yourself.
So after hearing that certain question so many times without batting an eyelid, why did it sound so different when it came from him?
Thomas Shelby. Your boyfriend's older brother. All stoic and dressed to impress and intimidate, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like always, smoking on it without a care in the world whether he was allowed to in a house like yours or not.
He had surprised you, scared the wits out of you-- you were alone in the comfort of your bedroom, sitting at your vanity doing your nightly routine before he had shown up. You hadn't a clue how he'd gotten in, and he was smug about it, the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth a big indicator.
You stood up, smoothing down your nightgown when it clung to the thickness of your thighs and attempted to make eye contact and stutter out a few words.
"M-Mr Shelby," you breathed, fiddling with your hands when you clasped them in front of you. "What're you doing here?"
Tommy's eyes flicked around your room, taking note of your white walls and plush, pink duvet-- the trinkets scattered along your room all cutesy and girly. Just like you and your stupid nightgown, he thought.
"Came here to properly introduce myself," he spoke, inhaling another drag and exhaling the harsh smoke in your direction.
"But we've already met," your brows furrowed, cocking your head to the side impishly and unsure. "It was the other day, don't you remember?"
"I do," he flicked his tongue over his lips to moisten them, eyes still fixated on you. "but that was far too formal, don't you think, sweetheart?"
An unusual shiver ran along your spine-- sweetheart, you liked the way it sounded, the way he said it. Finn never called you sweetheart.
You nodded, in a foggy daze, staring at him with a somewhat dumb expression on your face.
Tommy cleared his throat and you quickly shook yourself out of your strange stupor.
"Aren't y'gonna invite me to sit?" he asked, eyebrows raised, waiting. "that's what polite girls do, isn't it?"
You were quick to nod your head, pulling out your vanity chair and inviting him to sit, just like he had asked. He sat down, the contrast of his dark exterior with your pretty pink belongings had butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach-- a sense that he didn't belong there, but the thrumming between your thighs was obvious that you liked him being there, amongst you, amongst your things.
He stubbed his cigarette out in a little jewellery dish that sat upon your vanity, heart-shaped and porcelain, now covered in grey, smoking ash. You knew better than to chastise him for it.
"You didn't answer my question," he muttered, clasping his hands in front of him, though differently to you, it was in confidence, to intimidate.
You thought about it. Why were you with Finn?
"W-We're in love, sir," you stuttered, not meeting his gaze, your cheeks were on fire.
"You don't look too sure about that, sweetheart," there it was again, that name, a single term going straight to your core, a surge of wetness saturating the cotton of your underwear. "Has he fucked you yet?"
You coughed on your own spit, eyes bulging out of their sockets at his crude question.
"Pardon?" you breathed, exasperated.
His reply was simple.
"You heard me."
"I don't believe that's any of your concern-" he was quick to interject, eyes swarming and dark, consuming you, leaving you to hang your head and cower.
"Finn's my brother," he spoke, "I have the right to know what he gets up to, and I don't want him corrupting a good girl like you just because he thinks he's in love."
You flushed at his words and you decided to answer his previous question, no matter how inappropriate.
"We haven't," your words were soft, quiet, he almost had trouble hearing you.
"Haven't what?" he hid his smirk, he already had you wrapped around his little finger, it was too easy.
"Had sex," you muttered, cheeks searing at your confession.
“Do you want to?” He asked, you stiffened, lashes fluttering and lips opening and closing like a poor fish out of water.
“M-maybe…”
“Come here,” Tommy patted his thigh, signalling you to come closer, to stand between his spread legs and have him look at you much closer. You did as he asked, you were a good girl after all.
“Do you want me to show you what it’s like?” He cooed all condescending and mocking, “Do you want me to show you what big, bad men do to little girls like you?”
“Mr Shelby, what about Finn?” His eyes darkened at the mere mention of his youngest brother.
“Fuck Finn,” he spoke slowly, “you forget about him when I’m talking to you, you understand me?”
You nodded, resting your hands against his shoulders to steady you when he tugged you closer by the frills of your nightgown.
“Yes, Mr Shelby,”
“No, no, none of that,” he shook his head, hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing against your soft, covered skin. “You address me properly.”
You searched your mind for the right term, brows furrowing and lips pouting, trying to think what on earth he wanted you to address him by.
“Come on, sweet girl,” he chuckled, bringing his thumb and forefinger to grip your chin, tugging it from side to side. “I’m your daddy now, isn’t that right?”
You whined, unable to control it, rubbing your thighs together, your walls collapsing and letting your submissive nature come to the forefront.
Thomas Shelby was the devil himself, you were sure— and he was your daddy. Finn had disappeared from your mind completely.
“Yes,” you sighed, all dreamily and cute, leaning into his touch, “yes, daddy.”
His plump lips curved up into a smirk, palm patting at your cheek as if you were a dog, eager for praise-- and you realised that wasn't too far from the truth; just a bitch in heat, eager and ready for her first breeding.
You stared at him, dumbified from those cornflower irises of his, almost hypnotizing, and you were sure you'd comply with anything he'd ask of you.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Tommy could practically see the gears shifting beneath your skull and he raised his brows when you stuttered, a silent 'I'm waiting' when you took far too long to answer him.
"C-Can I have a kiss?" you spoke shyly, thumbing the expensive cotton of his crisp shirt, growing impossibly warmer and not just because of the close proximity. "please?"
You made sure to add your plea, keeping your manners intact, giving him something to be proud of you for.
So innocent, he thought, you really were such a good girl-- something he thought was all just an act to get what you wanted, however with the way you stumbled over your words and fluttered your lashes, more eager for a kiss than anything else- anything more.
Yeah, that was no act.
Tommy fought the smile that ticked at his lips, using his fingers to tip your chin, tugging you closer, closer, closer, until you were a hair's width away. You could feel his lips brush against the skin of your cheek, gently, so uncharacteristic, you didn't think that a man of his status and power could be so sweet on someone.
Though, of course, that's what Tommy Shelby wanted you to think, he wanted you to succumb to the desires that he caused, take you and defile you and leave you wanting no man other than himself. He craved the power imbalance, the sick need to corrupt young, naive little girls like yourself.
Tommy Shelby was not sweet. He was worlds apart from that.
The soft feeling of his lips grew nearer, to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth, before pecking your lips-- a small spongy kiss, capable of urging a little whine to escape your throat.
He kissed you again, slotting your mouths together, locking your lips one over the other, deepening the kiss and it quickly became heated. Swiping his tongue along your bottom lip, he didn't have the patience to wait for you to open up, instead forcing his prodding tongue inside your mouth, crudely swiping it against yours, sucking it between his lips before running it along the ridges of your teeth.
You didn't think kissing could feel so dirty, so unhinged, but you were rather ashamed to say you liked it. The way his callused hands trailed from your hips to your neck, all the way back down just to take a handful of your behind, squeezing the doughy globes roughly and playing with them as if you were a mere toy.
Tommy pulled away, a long, silver line of spit keeping your lips connected, only breaking apart when he began to speak, pushing at your shoulders and urging you to the carpet.
"On your knees," his voice was raspy, and he cleared his throat, clearly affected by you, by your innocence more like. "gonna teach you how to keep men like me happy."
You instantly obeyed, dropping to your knees and sitting on your haunches, practically purring when he cupped and stroked your cheek.
He eyed you from below him, perched in the space between his knees and he spread them further to let you shuffle closer, your hands on his thighs.
"You're a good little pet, aren't you?" he cooed, swiping his thumb along your chin, "such a good listener, eh?"
You beamed up at him, leaning into his touch and nodding enthusiastically.
"Yes, Daddy," a little giggle pushed past your lips, "for you."
"That's right," he hummed, "just f'me."
You had an idea of what he wanted you to do and you fiddled with his belt in anticipation for his next command.
"You're gonna learn how to properly suck cock," he spoke, "and y'gonna do a fucking good job of it."
Your mouth watered at the prospect of having his cock on your tongue. You sighed dreamily.
"And once I've taught ya, that's gonna be your job from now on-- gonna ease daddy's stress whenever he needs you to."
You nodded, cheeks searing.
"Yes, sir- I'll do anything f'you."
He had you where he wanted you, compliant and ready to yield at his every command. It was too fucking easy, he almost wanted to laugh at your naivety, how unaffected you were by the idea of having another man's cock down your throat, your own boyfriend's brother in fact and Finn hadn't even crossed your mind. Poor, poor Finn, always second best when it came to being compared to Tommy.
You may have been a good girl and did as the older man said, but you were still a whore at heart. His little harlot.
"Come on then, sweetheart, I haven't got all day," he chastised, cocking his head down to his belt that you hadn't unbuckled yet. You had so much left to learn.
You fumbled with the leather that encircled his waist, pulling it through the silver buckle and from the loops before unzipping his fly and pulling his tailored trousers down as far as you could to his thighs.
The bulge in his briefs was prominent and your mouth salivated at the sight, your natural reaction to a sight so delectable, your first cock to suck and it was so big too, you wondered how you'd be able to take him without choking on him. But where was the fun if you weren't?
Your instincts told you to reach out and grab it, so you did just that, palming him through his underwear and feeling the warmth of his shaft jolt and throb against your grip, already hard and you swore you noticed a little wet spot saturating the fabric-- a trick of the light, you thought.
Tommy sucked in a sharp breath, giving you a pointed look, eyebrow raised.
"I'm not 'ere to get teased," he huffed, as if his cock wasn't jumping at the touch of your hand. He took a handful of your hair, tugging it and making your scalp burn. "come on, take it out and get to work."
Your fingers curled under the elastic of his briefs, pulling the fabric down to rest where his trousers were, and the sight had you gawking, eyes as wide as saucers as you took in his pretty appendage.
So thick, littered with blue veins, the colour much akin to the blue of his eyes and you swallowed down all the saliva that pooled under your tongue. His tip was a pretty shade of tan, glistening with beads of pre-cum, slapping against his stomach every time he throbbed.
"I didn't know they could be this pretty," you marvelled, taking hold of it and delicately running your fingers up each prominent vein. Tommy cleared his throat at your unexpected praise, the grip on your hair a lot softer than before, instead of tugging on it, he petted it down softly, watching you watch him.
"Put me in your mouth, darling," you smiled up at him teasingly pouting up at him.
"So impatient," you teased, your confidence rising, before you tightened your grip, puckering your lips around his tip, sucking it as if he were one of your favourite lollipops.
You took him out of your mouth with a soft pop, just to reattach yourself to him, lathering your tongue over his sensitive head, the somewhat salty taste igniting your tastebuds and you hummed around him.
"There y'go, you can take more than that," you hollowed your cheeks at his words, going lower, taking him deeper and slowly you started to bob your head up and down, moaning at his taste and thickness on your tongue.
With a particularly harsh downward thrust of your head, he reached the back of your throat, instantly causing you to gag and you pulled off him, whining and sniffling with tears ebbing over your waterline.
"Good girl," he cooed breathlessly, chest heaving and palms cradling your face, hushing and settling you when you continued to whine out. "Doin' so well, got me a little whore in the making, hm?"
He pushed you back onto his cock, guiding you down, down, down until you were gagging once again, though this time you didn't pull off of him, you couldn't, not with the strength he was using to hold and keep your head down. Your nose brushed against the course thatch of hair that littered his pelvis and you tried to resist gagging at the stupidly large intrusion by breathing steadily through your nose.
You wanted so badly to rise for air, to ease the soreness that started to buzz in your throat, but although this was your first time, a true beginner, he still treated you like one of his most proficient whores. Coughing and spluttering, drool started to slip from your mouth and down your chin, so messy and slick, dripping down the length of your neck, saturating your pink nightgown and settling in the space between your tits.
"Fuck," he groaned, "gonna fuck this little virgin throat, gonna make you choke- doesn't that sound good, sweet girl?"
With the way you sobbed and moaned around him, he took it as a yes, keeping a good, firm grip upon your tresses to bob you up and down as he pleased, thrusting his hips upwards and meeting your mouth in the middle.
You grew light-headed, crude, sloppy sounds filling the air along with your constant gags and you quickly slapped at his thigh, urging him to let you up, to go easy on you and let you catch your breath. He didn't stop, however, didn't even slow down, purposeful in messing with you and teaching you that he was in charge-- he would decide whether you needed to breathe or not.
He chuckled at your vulnerability, stopping his thrusts to to sheath himself deep down your throat and keep you still, just the feeling of you gagging around his shaft was enough to stimulate him.
Eventually, he let you up for breath, marvelling at how you coughed and struggled to catch your breath, your throat feeling entirely abused and sore each time you swallowed. His pretty cock jolted at the sight of you, so messy and whoreish, hair tangled and spit dribbling down your chin.
"Breathe, darling," he cooed, cupping your tear-stained cheeks between his rough palms and pouting at you mockingly, pressing a rather condescending peck to your forehead. "Bein' so good-- almost done, sweetheart, just gotta make daddy cum and then you can rest that lovely throat of yours."
You breathed shakily, settling down on your haunches again and grabbing his slick cock in your grasp.
"Okay, Daddy," you sniffled, such a sweet girl, even with a cock in your hand.
Tommy guided you down, conducting your movements with a thrust and push to your head, keeping you pliant and submerging himself within you, and if your throat felt this good his head reeled at the thought of your pussy-- so tight and virginal, untouched, not even by your curious little fingers.
He'd have all of you soon enough.
You could see his stomach muscles clenching, thighs flexing from under your palms and you hummed around him when you noticed his thrusts growing sloppier.
"Fuck," Tommy groaned, breaths haphazard and shaky, "you ready, sweet girl? You ready to taste Daddy's cum? Y'gonna swallow it all, aren't you, otherwise m'gonna have to force feed it down that pretty throat."
You stared up at him as best as you could, fluttering your lashes, tears spilling and clouding your vision, though you blinked them away, eager to see him, to see the way his face would contort, how beautiful he'd look whilst shooting cum inside your mouth.
One, two, three more thrusts were all it took for him to start convulsing, cock jolting on your tongue and spilling his seed, coating the walls of your constricting throat. He was groaning, moaning out loud, sounds so pretty you had to keep your thighs clenched tight.
"Shit- good girl, such a good little whore, you are."
He continued to ride his orgasm out, until he grew far too over-sensitive, pulling himself out of your mouth and lifting your head up, spent and eyes hooded watching you swallow his seed and hum at the newfound taste-- something you already found yourself becoming addicted to.
"Look," you beamed, still teary-eyed and shaky on your knees, you opened your mouth wide, sticking out your tongue for him to marvel at, completely clean of all traces of his cum, now deep in your belly. "swallowed it all, daddy- just like you said."
Tommy's head started to spin, praising you at how good you had been though he felt strange, heart thumping in his chest at the mere sight of you, he felt soft, a small smile on his face without realising.
He thought you were wrapped tightly around his finger, however he had begun to realise in such a short time it was the complete opposite way around.
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