Drunk_Poet

Addicted to the intoxication of Poetry&Jazz

[marauderpoet]

WHAT IF.....

[marauderpoet]

Until I'm alive no one can hurt my family, my sweetheart. MY FAMILY IS MY STRENGTH. ❤️

[marauderpoet]

कभी यूँ भी आ मेरी आँख में

कि मेरी नज़र को ख़बर न हो

~बशीर बद्र

Come into my eyes sometime in such a way,

that even my sight remains unaware.

[marauderpoet]

HAPPY FOOKIN' BIRTHDAY MR.SHELBY.

[marauderpoet]

आफ़रीनहुस्न-ए-जानाँ की तारीफ़ मुमकिन नहीं

आफ़रीन आफ़रीन, आफ़रीन

तु भी देखे अगर तो कहे हम-निशिं

praising your beauty is truly impossible.

Wow, wow, wonderful!

If you see her, my friend, you would say the same.

[marauderpoet]

Girls: Watch Bridgerton

Women: Watch Peaky Blinders

[marauderpoet]

I don't hear the shovels against the wall, Grace

I FOUND YOU AND YOU FOUND ME ❤️🥂

[marauderpoet]

माना कि मोहब्बत का छुपाना है मोहब्बत,

चुपके से किसी रोज़ जताने के लिए आ |

I agree: to hide this love is to truly love, But for mercy’s sake—just once—come in secret and let it be known.

[marauderpoet]

The name of the perfume is know your f***ing place, soldier.

[marauderpoet]

रंजिश ही सही दिल ही दुखाने के लिए आ,

आ फिर से मुझे छोड़ के जाने के लिए आ |

"Even if it’s with malice, come—if only to break my heart;

Come, even if it is just to leave me once again."

Please come even if, just to leave me but come.

[marauderpoet]

हम को नीचे उतार लेंगे लोग

इश्क़ लटका रहेगा पंखे से

~Zia Mazkoor

"People will eventually take my body down,

But love will remain hanging from the ceiling fan."

[marauderpoet]

Finding your people makes you realize there was nothing wrong with you.

[marauderpoet]

Mrs. SHELBY I'm sorry for being too busy in my mind.

[marauderpoet]

ROUGH *LOVE* OF SAME BLOOD - THOMAS SHELBY X HIS OWN DAUGHTER (RUBY).

INTRODUCTION - Ruby has passed her teenage phase and now she's a young adult figuring her own body and her desires out, due to her father's fear no men dares to even look her, despite of her being like a star in the Hollywood. She has now developed some intense feelings for the eyes she always have near her. She feels protected and safe by her own blue, deep ocean eyes looking at her (Dad's).

It was a night when she some how manages to confess her feelings to him, her own blood her Dad. It wasn't easy but she's a Shelby and they are never afraid of claiming what's their with pride. She told him everything all about her dreams that she had with him, especially managing an eye contact when she had haired from him.

This night was indeed special, as it was the first time Thomas Shelby the king of Birmingham has denied to fulfill his daughter's wish. But.... Her lonely and curious eyes defeated him and as a result made their bond even stronger and loveable.

~Still This night remained Special.

He reached for the buttons of my dress. His fingers were steady, methodical, as he undone each one, exposing my pale skin to the cool air of the room. He watched me with the predatory focus of a man who had won every war he’d ever fought. When the silk pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my thin lace undergarments, he let out a sharp, ragged breath. He stripped out of his own coat and waistcoat with a sudden, violent urgency, his movements shedding the refined leader and revealing the raw, powerful man beneath.

"Sit on the bed, Ruby," he commanded.

I obeyed, my skin prickling with anticipation. The velvet duvet felt cool beneath my thighs. He approached me, unbuckling his belt with a rhythmic clinking of metal. When he shed his trousers, his cock sprang free, thick and heavy, the dark veins pulsing along the length of it. It was daunting, a terrifyingly beautiful testament to his dominance. He stepped between my legs, forcing them wide with his knees, and I gasped at the sudden heat of him.

"Look at me, sweetheart," he whispered, his hand diving into my hair to tilt my head back. "I’m going to be gentle because it’s your first time, but make no mistake—I am going to claim every inch of you."

He lowered his head, his mouth crashing onto mine in a kiss that tasted of smoke and obsession. His tongue pushed past my teeth, seeking mine, swirling in a thick exchange of saliva. I moaned into his mouth, my hands clawing at his shoulders, feeling the hard muscle beneath his skin. He moved down, his lips trailing fire along my throat to my breasts. He caught a nipple between his teeth, tugging sharply, and a bolt of electricity shot straight to my core.

"You’re so wet for me, Ruby," he groaned against my skin.

He moved his hand down, his long fingers finding the soaked lace of my knickers. He didn't remove them yet; instead, he rubbed his palm over my mound, the friction of the lace against my clit making me cry out. The squelching sound of my own lubrication filled the air, a wet, rhythmic noise that seemed to drive him wild. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and tore the lace away, baring my dripping pussy to his hungry gaze. He dipped two fingers inside me, testing the tightness, and I arched my back, my breath hitching.

"So tight," he muttered, his voice thick with lust. "Like a vice. You’re going to bleed for me, aren't you?"

"Dad, now," I begged, my hips twitching instinctively toward him.

He positioned the head of his cock at my opening. It felt massive, a blunt force that threatened to split me open. He didn't rush. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine, his blue eyes searching my soul one last time for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, he pushed.

I let out a sharp, strangled scream as the membrane of my maidenhead tore. The pain was hot and sudden, a searing line of fire that made my muscles lock. He stopped instantly, his breath coming in short, harsh pants. 

"Easy, darling, easy," he soothed, his hands framing my face. "The worst is over. Just breathe for me. That’s it. Melt for your father."

He waited, letting my body adjust to the invasion. I felt the fullness of him, the way he stretched me to my absolute limit. The pain began to dull, replaced by a heavy, throbbing ache that slowly spiraled into a dark, honeyed pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.

"Please, More," I whimpered.

He began to move, a slow, agonizingly deep thrust that pulled almost all the way out before burying himself back inside with a wet, shlicking sound. The friction was incredible. Every time he slid home, his balls slapped against my labia with a meaty thud that echoed in the quiet room. I could feel the pre-cum slicking the path, making each stroke smoother, more intense.

"You like that, don't you?" he growled, his pace picking up. "The way I fill you? The way I take what’s mine?"

"Oh god, yes, Dad!" 

He became less careful as his control slipped. His thrusts grew violent, his cock slamming into my cervix with a force that made my vision blur. The bed creaked rhythmically, the sound of our bodies colliding—a messy, primal squelch of sweat and juices—becoming the only music in the world. I felt the build-up, the tightening of my internal muscles around him, milking him with every desperate squeeze.

"I’m going to... I’m going to come," I gasped, my head tossing back and forth on the pillows.

"Do it, love. Come for me. Let me feel you shake," he commanded, his own voice breaking.

My orgasm hit like a tidal wave, a series of violent, rhythmic contractions that clamped down on his cock. I screamed his name, my entire body convulsing as waves of white-hot pleasure crashed over me. The sensation was so intense I felt my consciousness slip for a moment. Seeing me break seemed to be the final straw for him. He let out a low, animalistic roar, his muscles corded and straining as he delivered several final, punishing thrusts. 

He buried himself to the hilt, his cock twitching inside me as he erupted. I felt the hot, thick jets of his seed filling me, hitting my back wall with enough force that I could feel the warmth spreading deep within my womb. He stayed there, his weight heavy and comforting, his heart drumming a frantic rhythm against mine as we both tried to catch our breath. The air in the room was thick with the scent of sex, musk, and the undeniable finality of what we had done.

He eventually pulled out, the sound of his slick cock sliding out of my overused, gaping hole a loud, wet pop. A mixture of his cream and my own fluids, tinged with a streak of bright red blood, leaked out of me, staining the dark velvet of the sheets. He looked down at the mess we had made, a dark, satisfied smirk touching his lips. He reached down, wiping a bit of the stray fluid with his thumb and bringing it to his lips, tasting me.

"You're a Shelby now, through and through," he whispered, pulling the covers over our tangled, sweating limbs. "And I'm never letting you go."

I drifted toward sleep, anchored by the heavy arm he draped across my waist.

THANK YOU

PLEASE, PLEASE DON'T JUDGE ME. It's just my imagination.

Written by the maladaptive daydreamer ~~~~~~~~~~~~ K.R (11/4/26 at 4:25 am).