So i after all the internal turmoil of being so enamored by such a wonderful person, that is Ezra Miller, i finally decided to let some of the chagrin out by making an aesthetic edit in his honor….. or atleast try to. It is kind of a facial appreciation post, tho his face is not the only thing i adore, his charm n personality i hold in a much higher regard~ Anyway, i call it, ‘The Breakdown of Perfection’.
“È difficile da descrivere. Non è un colpo di fulmine, davvero. È più… uno spostamento di gravità. Quando vedi Lei, all'improvviso non è più la terra che ti tiene attaccata a sé. È lei. E niente conta più di lei. Sai che per lei faresti qualsiasi cosa, per lei saresti qualsiasi cosa… Diventi tutto ciò di cui ha bisogno, che sia un protettore, un amante, un amico, un fratello. ”
“«Non temere» mormorai. «Noi ci apparteniamo». Fui immediatamente travolta dalla verità delle mie stesse parole. Quel momento era così perfetto, così giusto, che per nulla al mondo potevo dubitarne. Le sue braccia mi avvolsero stringendomi a lui. Era come se ogni terminazione nervosa del mio corpo sprizzasse elettricità. «Per sempre» aggiunse Edward.”
"Vedevo benissimo quanto sarebbe stato facile innamorarsi di lei. Esattamente come cadere senza sforzo. Impedirmi di amarla era l'opposto, era arrampicarmi su uno strapiombo, una mano dopo l'altra, un'impresa estenuante, come se possedessi soltanto le forze limitate di un umano."
"Mi piace la gente che sa ascoltare il vento sulla propria pelle, sentire gli odori delle cose, catturare l'anima. Coloro che hanno la carne a contatto con la carne del mondo. Perché lì c'è verità, lì c'è dolcezza, lì c'è sensibilità, lì c'è ancora amore."
“Avevo bisogno di questo. Del suo tocco infuocato, dei suoi morsi, del suo amore nero. Avevo bisogno di perdermi nella sua anima, perché era l’unico posto che non mi avrebbe mai fatto paura.”
A/N - It's here!! It can be thought of as a writing exercise of sorts (learning how to write smut) and while I said there's striptease, it's actually just about slowly stripping Tommy. I don't even understand this...but I spent 6 hours on this, so naturally I'm posting it.
***
"Where is the champagne? I asked you to refill the glasses hours ago." You told the caterer brusquely before going back to check the flowers.
Eyeing the arrangements, you allowed yourself a moment to pat yourself on the back.
One week of marriage, and you were already hosting charity dinners. Your husband, Thomas Shelby was good, if only a little reticent and very busy. But more than his reticence and busyness, it was his formal behaviour that irked you. You were a little shy considering it was your first marriage, but he took your shyness as fear and had never done anything except give you a polite kiss. That too just for the sake of appearances.
"What are you doing here, (Y/N)?" Ada demanded as she appeared in front of you out of nowhere, an army of Shelby women following close behind her.
"The cake is very good." You said through a full mouth.
"Your husband is flirting with the Duchess, and you're eating cake?" She asked in mild shock.
Casting a careless glance at your husband and the Russian Duchess, you shrugged. "He's not flirting. He's talking."
"You need to get your eyes checked, sweetheart." Polly added with an amused grin.
"With a woman like that, everything has a hidden meaning." Esme concurred.
"What do you mean?" You asked, dumbfounded by the onslaught of the Shelby women.
"(Y/N), honey, you're pretty and wonderful. The woman a man wants in his home. She on the other hand, is the woman he wants in his bed." Ada said with a helpless shrug.
"Tommy would never..." You began as you fingered your pearls.
"Doesn't mean he doesn't want to." Linda smirked.
"Oh." It was the only word you could manage as your eyes took in your newly wed husband in an entirely different light.
"Here, give me that cake. You might not want that now." Ada said kindly.
***
Tommy Shelby was tired to his bones. Right now all he wanted to do was lie down, and hope for sleep. What he didn't expect was to find his wife waiting for him in a dress which should be illegal in the United Kingdom.
He was taking off his shoes when his tired eyes suddenly grew attentive at the sight of the scene before them.
His lowered gaze slowly travelled up from your heeled feet, your bare legs and your slinky dress before finally resting on the innocently flirtatious smile on your face.
"What's the occasion?" He asked nonchalantly as he loosened his tie.
"Drink?" You asked as you walked towards him with two glasses of champagne held precariously in your hands.
"Yeah." He agreed, even though his entire attention was caught by the tastefully low-cut neckline of your dress.
"What do you think?" You murmured as you gave him his glass and drew slow circles on the lapel of his coat. He bent low to state in a matter-of-fact voice, "We need to get this off."
But when you looked up at him, he drew back a little. "How much did you fuckin' drink?"
You had had barely one, but somehow, you felt blaming alcohol for your newfound lust was a better option.
"Four. Maybe five." You shrugged carelessly, more interested in putting your hands under his coat.
Easily extricating your grabby hands, he said, "Not tonight, then."
"Why not?" You pouted, inwardly screaming at your stupidity.
"Not in the mood." He muttered and turned his back on you.
But you weren't hearing it any of his excuses, not after you'd put in so much effort. Putting your arms around him from behind, you said, "Please."
"No."
Only he didn't realise that you were already pulling his coat down.
"Are you feeling hot?" You grinned at his expression before throwing the expensive coat on the floor.
He shook his head and walked on, and you followed close behind until you were in front of him. "Where are you running off too?" You demanded and pulled him towards you by his tie.
"Leave it." He bit off.
"Why?" You asked as you pulled him harder for a kiss. Stumbling at the sudden force, he almost fell on you but supported himself by putting his hands on your hips.
"Now we're talking." You murmured against his lips as your hands worked his tie. For a moment, he almost gave up against the feel of you and your scent, but somehow managed to pull away.
This time though, he ended up losing his tie.
"All right, (Y/N). You're drunk. Go to bed." He said as he folded his shirtsleeves and walked ahead to get himself a drink. Something very strong and hard.
"No." You shook your head, and continued following him.
"Why won't you touch me, Tommy?" You grumbled to yourself before holding his hand and pulling him down on the sofa with you.
You were on top of him before he could protest, and soon your face was at level with his and you were straddling his thighs.
"What is it?" You asked, closer to him than you had been in a week.
"Nothin'." He forced out, unable to keep himself from looking at the smooth skin and lushness in front of him.
"Don't you want me?" You asked against his unresponsive lips as you ground against his hardening erection.
His reply was too muffled for you to hear, but you felt its vibrations all the way to your core. You were on the final button of his waistcoat when he sighed and gently pushed you away.
"Get up." He got up and said kindly but you only scowled at him, your hands crossed in belligerence.
"Fine." He muttered and walked away towards the bed, hard and frustrated. Why did you need to drink so much to have sex with him?
Meanwhile, you finally got up and walked behind him. Putting your hands around him from behind, you reached for the still unbuttoned waistcoat and shrugged it off of him in a fluid motion.
"The fuck?" He muttered in restrained anger, unable to believe the dexterity of your hands.
"Why were you flirting with the Duchess, huh?" You asked and without a preamble, pushed him on the bed, before going behind the dressing screen yourself.
"Fuck." Tommy swore under his breath as he righted himself. "(Y/N)..." His voice trailed off when he saw a glimpse of your bare leg from the dressing screen.
"Catch!" You said and before he could even think, Tommy had a heavenly smelling piece of fabric thrown in his face.
Despite himself, he kept looking at the damned screen, waiting for you to come out.
And when you did, he almost forgot how to breathe.
"I hope you like it." You said as you put one leg in front of the other, barely managing to stand still.
If he'd thought the dress was a piece of fabric, the silken negligee might as well be a thread. Against his will, he looked away after a moment.
"What is it, Tommy Shelby?" You asked again as you walked in front of him, and reached for the buttons of his shirt.
He held your hands with his rough ones in almost bruising force. "No. Not this time."
"Why not?" You almost moaned, and his gaze again fell on the expanse of bare skin laid in front of him.
Taking advantage of his distractedness, you pulled him towards you by his collar. You arched your back so your barely covered breasts jutted out, and just as expected, he finally held you by putting his arms on the sides of your waist.
His lips found home on the side of your neck, pressing heated kisses along the way and you responded by resting your arms on his strong arms.
But when he was finally reaching for your lips, you pulled away and walked out of his hold, giving him a sly smile.
It was he who followed you this time, albeit reluctantly and in mild annoyance.
You finally turned around after a short walk, and raised your knee to rest your foot against the wall. Your eyes held an open invitation and he finally gave up all struggle.
Tommy moved in your direction and trapped you between his hold, looking down at you with an almost menacing smile. You tilted you head to give him complete access to your neck.
But he was more focused on the damned dress. He slipped the non-existent straps of your negligee down your smooth shoulders, but to his annoyance, the bodice stayed firm on your breasts.
Chuckling throatily, you reached for the straps of his suspenders instead. They slid down easily, leaving him in a partially unbuttoned shirt and trousers hanging loosely from his hips.
He looked exquisitely delicious at that moment.
Curbing your thoughts, you moved to press against him and covertly undid each button, until the white cotton shirt just hung from his shoulders.
Just like the men in dirty Victorian novels.
It was also the first time you had seen him bare-chested, and you agreed that you had waited for too long.
"Done?" He cocked an eyebrow.
He had caught you red-handed, and you felt heat spread on your cheeks. But you couldn't break character now.
Slipping your fingers over his skin, you easily slid his shirt down, resting your hands on the contours of his body for a moment too long with each touch.
But Tommy was done holding himself back. Lifting you up with an ease you would question later, he carried you to the bed, your legs wound around him, breasts squished and lips planting soft kisses on the side of his head.
He plonked you down on the bed, and reached to unbutton his trousers, only for you to get up and stop him.
"What?" He demanded incredulously.
Licking your lips, you said shyly, "We haven't even kissed yet."
His face softened. "Yeah, we haven't."
And kiss he did.
It was unlike any of your kisses. It was not soft, or polite, or gentle. It was soul-crushing, the kind which you felt in every cell of your body and sucked you empty.
"Enough?" He teased.
"I want more." You bit your lip and smiled.
"All right."
But before he could do anything, you moved to push him on the bed, and straddled him again. You hurried to unbutton his trousers, while he frantically pulled down the obstinate bodice of your negligee to free your breasts.
You stroked him through the cotton of his boxers, making him groan in pleasure. He latched his lips on your hardened nipples, making you arch your back in ecstasy.
Laying you on your back again, he got rid of his trousers and boxers in lighting fast speed, and you stopped breathing at his naked glory.
"Oh, God."
He smirked as he pushed up the silky fabric and helped you take it off in lighting fast speed, eager than he had ever been.
"Ready?" He asked with a small smirk as he settled himself between your legs, his hair falling forward.
You nodded eagerly and he sank his lips into yours for a passionate kiss. So lost in your kiss, you didn't realise when he pushed inside you until a soft sigh escaped your lips.
He paused to take you in, remembering every detail, every expression. But only for a moment before he started thrusting in long, almost punishing strokes, making you dig your nails into his hard back as you arched into him.
Soon his thrusts grew rapid and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, clinging to the comfort of his strength as you let him revel in your own softness.
In a few moments, it seemed like your body couldn't take it anymore. Your breath came in shallow pants, a film of sweat covered your skin, and Tommy Shelby was inked to every part of your body.
"Am I the woman you would like to have in your bed?" You panted out each word, seconds away from shattering in his arms.
"Every fucking day." He grunted before giving a last final thrust and collapsing on your side.
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