I had an anon ask for Tommy dealing with Wren having a boyfriend. This isn't quite Tommy finding out but I might do a few parts!
A ficlet in which fifteen year old Polly Wren forgets the house Tommys rules.
Masterlist | FT | divider by @/saradika-graphics
Nell frowned as she opened the front door, the music blaring from upstairs was deafening. The classic sign of Wren home alone.
They'd only just started letting Wren be home alone after school if Francis wasn't around, usually picked up by Ada or one of her Uncles.
Tommy was reluctant at first, always finding an excuse to work from home but after some gentle convincing Nell had encouraged him to let her have a tiny bit of freedom.
The kitchen door was closed and she could hear Goose behind it.
“Wren?” She called, heading for the kitchen placing her things on the side as Goose nudged against her legs “Hi boy, where's your sister huh?” She asked, scratching behind his ears.
Opening the back door for him to head into the garden before she took to the stairs, making her way to Wren's bedroom, knocking even though it would be useless coming from the volume of the music.
She waited anyway, like she always had. She was once a teenage girl and hated the intrusive nature of her parents barging in whenever.
After a minute or so she knocked again, this time opening the door “turn that down” she shouted, heading straight for the speaker on her chest of drawers.
“Mum!” Wren shrieked, jumping from her bed.
Nell spun round, her eyes landing on the young blonde boy on the edge of her fifteen year old daughter's bed.
“Polly Shelby, who is this? What are you doing up here?” She asked flustered by this new territory she found herself in.
Wren rolled her eyes “mum don't” she sighed, the colour flushing on her cheeks, her lips a shade darker than normal painted by kisses from a teenage boy.
“You know the rules, Wren” Nell stood hands on her hips, eyes burning into her daughter.
“Who is this?” She asked again, the boy scrambled to his feet “Sorry Mrs Shelby, Sorry I'm Owen” he held out his hand to her, she dropped her gaze to it.
“You can call me Nell, but please leave my daughters bedroom” she was calm, as he nodded.
Wren threw her a seething look, as she went to follow him down the hall “Wren” she called making her daughter stop on the landing, she spun round.
“What mother?” She was looking at Nell like she'd ruined her whole life.
“All I'm going to say is you're lucky it was me and not your father” she nodded to the stairs “Now say goodbye, and apologise to Goose for locking him up” she smirked. Wren rolled her eyes but done as she was told.
Nell gave them space, lingering on the landing. The hushed whispers from below and then the door closing.
-
Wren found her later in the back study, she slipped onto the snuggle chair “Mummy” she pouted.
Nell looked up from the laptop “Darling?” She asked, closing her work down. “Will you tell daddy?” She mumbled.
Nell smiled “Come here, eh?” She gestured to her lap, arms outstretched.
Wren folded in her lap effortlessly, still her tiny girl “We won't tell him about this afternoon, but maybe we should drop a few hints about a potential boyfriend” Nell suggested.
Wren dropped her head into the crook of Nell's neck with a sigh “he's not a full boyfriend” she muttered.
Nell laughed lightly “Why are you bringing half boyfriends to your bedroom?” She teased.
Wren pulled back from her shoulder “Mum” she whined “No seriously Wren bird, no boys upstairs or when you're alone in the house” she reiterated the rules “No boys behind closed doors” she added.
“We're trusting you to be home alone when we can't be here, don't make us regret it” Nell was firm but kind, she knew all too well the struggles of girlhood.
Wren nodded “I know, I'm sorry” Nell pressed a kiss to her forehead “how did you get him here anyway?” she knew someone would have helped her, the school wasn't exactly walking distance.
“Uncle Arthur, but mum please don't be mad at him I said, I said you were ok with it” she buried her face deeper into her mother's shoulder.
Of course it would be Arthur, Polly was his first niece. He'd believe anything she told him. She knew Finn would have asked her first and John would have refused, he was almost as bad as Tommy when it came to protecting her.
“Polly Wren Shelby” Nell scolded, jiggling her shoulder so she had to look up.
“Sorry mummy” she pulled out her secret weapon, the puppy dog eyes and pouting mouth, “God I'm going to go grey earlier than I expected” Nell tusked.
Wren bit at her lip “I think I like him” she admitted “and that's fine, it's normal but please don't tell lies to Uncle Arthur, and try not to give your father a heart attack” she brushed her fringe from her forehead.
“I quite like having him around, you know?” She teased, Wren nodded with a giggle “he's ok isn't he?”
Nell nodded “he's alright, we should keep him”, they both looked up at the sound of clicking on the tiled floor “Should we keep daddy, Goose?” Wren asked, slipping off Nell's lap.
Goose's tail wagged as she knelt down with him on the floor.
“Where are my girls, eh?” Tommy's voice bellowed followed by the sound of his keys in the dish.
“Are we telling him?” Nell asked in a hushed voice. Wren shook her head violently “not yet mum, please” she wrapped her arms around Goose's neck.
Nell nodded before she got up from her chair “in here, Tom” she called, brushing her hand over Wren's head and then Gooses as she made her way to the hall.
Tommy smiled at her, coming home to her was his favourite thing and then Wren appeared behind her and he changed his mind coming home to them was his favourite thing.
“What are you two plotting?” He asked, loosening his tie as he walked over, pressing a kiss to Nell's lips, followed by a forehead kiss for Wren and a pat for Goose.
“Dinner” Nell smiled “but Wren is taking the dog out before that” Wren nodded “come on goosey, let's go”
-
Tommy wrapped his arms around Nell's waist as they stood in the kitchen, his lips on her neck.
He nuzzled into her neck “missed you today” he hummed, Nell leaned back into him “missed you” she turned to kiss his cheek.
“How about a takeaway? Wren in bed by 10 and then I'll take you to bed?” He suggested, Nell nodded, that sounded delightful.
“Mr Shelby when was the last time you took me to bed” she hummed, turning in his arms “last night” he smirked, “and I seem to remember this morning's shower was eventful” he teased.
Nell rolled her eyes “well excuse me for wanting my husbands attention” Tommy laughed “Darling, I wasn't complaining”
The sound of the front door shutting pulled them back into the room, “Back” Wren called.
Nell could hear her unclipping Goose, kicking her shoes into the porch. “Come pick a takeaway” Tommy called “and do you have homework?” Nell added, falling into their domestic bliss.
-
Nell knew she should plant a few seeds in Tommy's mind about Wren and potential boys, and post sex was possibly the best time to tell Tommy anything that would annoy him. When he was still on a high.
She showered quickly. leaving the en-suite to him already showered and in their bed, leaning against the headboard. Glasses on, iPad in his lap as he scrolled.
Nell busied herself clearing away various bits, “I think Wren has a slight crush” she threw it into the room as she disappeared into the Walk-in wardrobe.
“What does she know about boys, eh?” Tommy placed the iPad on the bed next to him.
Nell laughed as she came back into the bedroom “Not much, but she can still have a crush” Nell made her way to the bed.
“She doesn't need boys” he muttered as Nell climbed under the duvet, picking his iPad up and placing it on her bedside “well no, but it's only natural” she curled into his side.
Tommy closed his eyes, head back against the plush headboard “She's only fifteen” he sighed “and what were you like at fifteen?” Nell asked, Tommy laughed, fingers tickling against her bare arm “fucking hell” he grumbled.
“Exactly, and girls get those kinds of feelings too” Nell pressed a kiss to his chest “but I think it's a small crush and will probably be nothing” she reassured him, wanting to ease him into the idea slowly.
“What were you like at fifteen, eh?” He asked, looking down at her. Nell laughed moving so she could straddle his thighs.
“Oh, Mr Shelby you don't want to know” she pressed her lips against his, his hands squeezing her thighs.
My birthday is in one week (10th of August) and I don't like it 😭. But I can't avoid it either. So, I wanted to do something but for you.
I can't write because my mind isn't very collaborative these days... But I can make moodboards.
So here's the rule.
→ Send me a character + a thing you want to gift them. But be specific (Ex: I want to gift Tommy a sandwich.) It can be canon characters, OCs (mine, yours or other people's characters!)* And even other mutuals, if you want.
And once I receive it, I'll try my best to do something with that. If I can activate my braincells, maybe I can write a line or two about that.
Be silly, if you want to! No one will stop you 😌❤️.
* (Except Rose, because her birthday celebration was just weeks ago and I wrote a lot of things similar to this for her.)
Tagging some mutuals just because but there's no pressure at all, as always.
premise: Your husband John is good at a lot of things and flirting with everyone is one of those things.
This was a request from my friend, who’s never even seen Peaky Blinders.
Pairing: John Shelby x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Vaginal sex, angst, fingering, dirty talk, swearing, slight non con elements (But not really)
A/N: Hello Lovelies 💙 John has been on my mind, and I really needed to write this so here you go. Also, I wanna say thank you to @neonn0ble and @greenorangevioletgrass for keeping me motivated throughout this.
When you accepted John’s marriage proposal, you knew what it would entail. Not only would it mean taking him on as your husband, but all of his children, and his family. Accepting meant that you would become a Shelby. There was a danger that came with the name, the family, the lifestyle, and you believed you were prepared for it. Your mind and will were strong. Considering your proven track record, there was no doubt that you could handle any mess that landed in your lap.
You were on top of it all, practically running things from John’s end. You may not have been blood, nor were you the face of anything, but you most definitely had the reins on a lot, John included. The poor boy was wrapped around your pretty little finger, or so you thought.
Watching your husband sit across the room, cigar in hand, surrounded by numerous women, you felt a fool. Oh dear, sweet John, so incapable of not flirting with every woman he sees. Sure you might also flirt with every man, but that didn't make you feel any better about the scene playing out before you.
You bring your drink up to your lips, taking a gulp. Finishing off the remnants of your third brandy of the night, glaring at the three girls fawning over him. Finn sits next to him, not absorbing any of the attention that the ladies were offering. One woman places her hand gently on John’s lapel, letting her hand graze over his chest, as she giggles at something he says. He’s not that funny, you scoff.
There was a lot you could take being a wife to a Shelby, but one thing that you weren’t going to was being made a fool in front of everyone, by none other than your husband. Unbeknownst to you, Tommy and Arthur were watching you closely, soft smirks on their faces as they catch the expressions of disapproval you were shooting John’s way.
They knew him, knew the flirt that he was, and though neither of them were going to speak out against John’s actions, for fear of being caught in the crossfire of your wrath, it didn’t stop them from both thinking that he was quite daft. Tommy wondered what fate would befall John if he kept up with his antics. Judging by the glare plastered to your face, he wagered that it wasn’t going to be anything good. You’d had enough.
Setting your glass down on the bar, your gaze finds Tommy and Arthur, who quickly look away as if they hadn’t seen anything, typical. You reach into your purse, pull out your lipstick and compact, fixing your smudged color on your lips before you slip it back into your purse and set off towards him.
You didn’t want to start anything, to ruin Arthur’s night, but John was making it very hard. That smug smirk, that you would normally melt for, had you ready to wipe it clean off his face. There was also the matter of the three women that were albeit throwing themselves at him, that you would have to refrain from dealing with. In classic Shelby fashion, your first thought would be to ‘get rid’ of them, in all senses of the word, but you weren’t going to do that, not yet at least.
You weave through the guests dancing around, drunk and completely oblivious of the warpath you were on. Some move aside for you to pass, but pay you no mind, others you had to push past.
One of the women sees you approaching, knowing damn well who you are, yet makes no move to change her position, if anything she appears to shoot you a smile. Finn, however, catches your gaze and the blood drains from his face. He leans closer to John, trying to alert him of your approach, but John isn't listening.
The panic on Finn’s face was enough to make you smile. Small tidbits of the conversation reach your ears. “Oh, I can be very convincing,” and “need you a man to take care of that,” followed by a smug smile. You can’t lie, hearing those words fall from his lips, was making you angry in more ways than one.
Stopping in front of them, your head slightly cocked, gaze boring into him, you wait for him to notice you. When he doesn't you clear your throat, trying to gain his attention. Finn’s panicked look turns to embarrassment as his eyes meet yours. He looked like he was desperately trying to apologize for John’s actions, but also like he wanted you to know that he had nothing to do with it. However, you weren’t after Finn, John was your target.
“John,” Finn croaks.
But John waves him off, continuing his conversation. At this point, you’ve reached your limit.
“Don’t let him fool you, this one will keep you wanting,” Gaining the whole table’s attention with your remark. Finn’s tune lightens slightly at the comment, reluctantly refraining from laughing. John’s eyes catch yours and widen, realization hitting him.
“I’d hate to see another disappointed woman,” you add nonchalantly, before turning on your heel and marching straight out of the Garrison into the cold damp night.
Leaning against the cold brick, you take a deep breath, the anger and hurt overcoming you. You dig through your purse for your cigarette tin, needing something to anchor your nerves. Opening it, you remove one, placing it between your red pursed lips, slipping the case back into your purse. Your hand desperately searches your bag for the lighter, coming up short.
A flame appears just in front of you, and you don’t need to look at its owner to know who owns it, the gold ring on his pinky gives him away. You lean forward slightly, letting the flame ignite the cigarette before you pull back, taking a long drag and exhaling it slowly.
Your eyes trace the length of his arm until you make it to his face, a wry expression resting on it.
Taking another drag, you exhale the smoke in his face and step around him, making your way further down the street. You have no intention of talking to him, no intention of putting up with his sour excuses as he tries to get out of being on your bad side.
“Love, wait,” he calls out, jogging after you.
“Oh fuck off John,” you retort as you continue walking, trying to make your way to anywhere that wasn’t around him.
“Don’t walk away from me, talk to me,” he pleads.
The desperation is clear in his voice, but you ignore him. You’re far too worked up to engage with him and you know that he hates it when you shut him out, so what better way to prove your point.
“No John, I bloody won’t.”
Taking a final drag, you flick the bud to the ground, not giving it a second thought. John grabs your arm and spins you around to face him.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” you demand, straining to pull your arm from his grasp, nearly sending yourself falling backward.
His jaw tenses as he looks at you, regarding him with your own look of frustration. John quickly looks around, noting the familiarity of his location, his eyes falling upon the office. He grabs you again and drags you to it, pulling out the keys and unlocking the door, pushing you inside first before following after.
“I said don’t fucking touch me, John.”
You ball your fist and bring it down against his chest, causing him to grunt at the contact.
“Love, just stop and listen to me,” he pleads again.
You let your fist fall to your side, keeping it clenched and ready to strike him again at any minute. He pulls off his coat and hat, setting them down on one of the tables, taking a deep breath. His calm composure that he had was now tense, a stern look on his face as he looked down at you.
“Listen, -” he starts.
You cut him off, not caring for the explanation or for the string of bullshit that was inevitably about to leave his mouth. He was unbelievable.
“No! You listen to me.” you retort. “Do you think it’s fucking funny, John!” you huff.
He’s taken aback, but his face quickly softens at your distaste. His eyes trail the entirety of you as you stand in front of him, in your aggressive stance. He can’t seem to bite back the shit-eating grin on his lips as he watches your other arm fall to sit on your waist. Seeing you jealous and upset was something that he found to be quite cute, and you knew it, but it didn’t change the way you felt.
“You think it’s funny to make me look like a bloody fool?” you lecture.
He lets out a small chuckle, and the amusement on his face makes you angrier, more enraged. He moves to approach you, his hand reaching out for you. You swipe the nearest thing to you, which happened to be a book, and send it hurling it at his head.
“Don’t touch me!” You shout.
John ducks as it clears his head, missing him just barely, coming back up with a look of challenge on his face.
“My love,” he coos.
His call for you comes out like a reverent melody, belittling your request. Arms outstretched as he cautiously makes his way closer to you, the grin on his lips growing.
Picking up another object, you hold it tightly in your grasp, gaze narrowing on him in a look of warning. The subtle chuckle that leaves him makes your blood boil. You hurl the cup at him, and much to your anticipation he dodges it.
“Tell me, am I not good enough?” You shout, picking up something else to throw. “Am I not enough for you?” Chucking it at him, but he moves aside.
“Fuckin ‘ell, listen to me,” he says sternly, moving closer. You back yourself up trying to stay out of his reach, scrambling for whatever you can find to throw at him, despite your aim.
“No. Go back to your whores,” you pause, backing up. “I can’t wait to see the look on their faces when you disappoint them.” You add, watching his smug look falter.
You always know exactly how to attack his ego, to wound him even in the slightest. You know it isn’t true, far from, but you knew it would affect him.
“You don’t mean that, do you love?” He asks, knowing the truth. He backs you up into the wall, your body coming to a halt. Taking a frustrated breath, you realize that he had you pinned, just as he wanted.
“We both know that’s not true-“
“Isn’t it?” You bite back, bringing your arms to fold. “I’m sure those women would love to find out just how disappointing you can be.” John's eyes narrow, the smug look on his face thinning, while a grin forms upon your own.
“I’m quite sure they will,” he retorts.
You don’t try to stop your hand as it swings for his cheek, not like he doesn’t deserve it. But your smile fades as John's hand catches your own, using it to push you back hard against the wall. Out of instinct, your other hand attempts another strike, but he grabs it as well, bringing them over your head.
“Let go of me,” you try to pull yourself from his grasp, but he doesn’t let up. You know that if you really wanted him to let go he would, but John knew you, and he knew that you didn’t really want him to stop any of this.
“I’m sorry, love. I wasn’t doing it for me-.”
“Oh save it, John.” You bite back.
“How can I make it up to you?” His eyes are hopeful and yet the sinful gleam is still there, staring right back at you.
Both of your hands are held above you by his one, he brings his other to tend to you. With his eyes dark and lustful, his hand takes to you, roaming your side, up and over the swells of your breast, brushing his thumb over your clothed nipple.
Your eyes were fluttering, threatening to fall shut, enjoying his subtle touches. You were trying not to give in to him so easily, but his touch had such an effect on you that it was harder than you wanted. He palms your breast, kneading it around in his hand, sending a surge of heat straight to your core.
Despite your stubborn attitude, John knew the effect he had on you and here he was, using it to his advantage. He liked seeing you all riled up, jealous, mad at him, and perhaps that’s why he did what he did, but that knowledge didn’t lessen the sting any.
Looking him over, your jaw tenses as you think about what he was asking. After he made you look like a fool in front of everyone. Like you couldn’t even control your own husband. You hated the way that felt.
“You can’t.” You breathe, trying to mean it, but you don’t.
“Oh, darling…”
His hand leaves your breast, slowly sliding down your stomach stopping just below the hem of your dress. He waits for you to object, but you don’t. Dipping his hand just under, he brings it slowly up your inner thigh, knuckles ghosting over your sensitive skin.
His fingers meet your wet heat, unclothed, and begging to be touched. His eyes glint with surprise when he notices, his devilish grin growing as he flicks his finger through it, collecting your juices.
Your lips pull together tightly, his thumb presses lightly against your clit, toying with it as he slips a finger inside you. You were losing your composure little by little, giving into him with every touch.
“Look at you now. What, nothin to say?” He taunts, bringing another finger to join the first, working them in and out of you slowly.
“Don't you dare fucking forget who you belong to, John,” but it comes out more breathy and sensual than you intend, and he notices.
“Oh, no doubt sweetheart, ” He grins.
You push him off you, finding it harder and harder to control yourself, and you weren’t ready to give in fully just yet.
“Fuck off,” you bite, taking another swing at him. To your surprise, he catches your wrist, holding firm.
“Tsk tsk, I thought we were fuckin past this,” he remarks, shaking his head slowly.
You shoot him a pointed look, “With the shit you pulled, did you think it was going to be that easy?”
You push past him, breaking from his grasp. He chuckles lightly, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him, just so he can pull you into him.
“Perhaps not, but I’m willing to try.”
Before you can retort, John's lips come down on yours in a slow and heated kiss, claiming them as he pulls you hard against him. You might have lost, but you weren’t going to completely let him get away with it. Sadly, the way he dominated you was intoxicating and you craved it.
His hands shuck your coat, letting it fall to the ground before he pulls at the straps of your dress, tugging them down, exposing your bare chest to him. His grip is rough, as he kneads your breast, pinching down on your hardening nipple earning a soft moan from you.
He pulls you, lifting you up to sit on the table, brushing aside all of the objects on top to a clattering mess on the floor. Wrapping your legs around his torso, you lock them to keep him close. As you go to grab onto him, looking for something to ground you, he grabs both of your arms, pushing you to lie back against the table. Bringing your arms to rest level to your face, his lean torso coming to hover over your frame.
“You know, ya love me,” He grins.
You roll your eyes, but deep down he knows. He knows that you are his and he is yours, utterly and completely. You may not have said anything, may not have given any indication, but he knew the truth, that you two shared a deep loving bond. You couldn’t even hide the grin that was creeping over your lips as he looked at you.
He leans in, letting his lips find your skin, kissing over the curvature of your breast. His eyes fixated on you as he sucks on the soft skin, leaving his claim along your body.
Arousal pools between your legs as you search for any type of friction, something to satisfy the ache. Lifting your hips, pushing them against his, your head falls back as he moves up to your neck, kissing a soft tender spot, one he knows you particularly love, making you gasp.
Using his own, John pins your hips back down against the table, grinding into you in a delicious way, causing you to tighten your grip around his waist.
You hated how easily consumed you were, melting into his touch, all so he could have his wicked way. You’re too wrapped up in him to notice that his grip on one of your arms has fallen. That is until, you feel his hand sliding up the length of your thigh, his wedding band cold against your burning skin, while the pads of his fingers take in every inch of you.
A soft gasp leaves your plump lips at the feeling of his fingers traipsing through your wet folds, teasing your entrance. His eyes flutter up to your face, looking at you through lidded eyes watching your face contort as his thumb presses against your aching clit. The grin on his face was a taunt, as if he was saying ‘I know what you really need… what you really want.’ John loved to push you, push your limits, your nerves, your everything, and he knew just how to do it, every damn time.
You were unable to speak as he slipped a finger in, his thumb starting small circles. It all felt too damn good.
“John, please,” you mutter, needing more, unable to hold back from fucking yourself on his fingers as he slipped in another. Your whimpers were a gift to him, he loved to hear just how good he could make you feel.
“What? Does that feel good?” He teases, his fingertips pressing against your g-spot watching the way your body reacts, moans falling from your lips.
“Cause you look satisfied.” Your eyes clench shut, as you let your head fall back. You don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing just how good he was making you feel, but you need more, more of him.
You prop yourself up by your elbows, looking down at him.
“John, piss off and fuck me already, or get back to your whores. Your choice.”
John’s face turns stern, as he stands up straight, removing his fingers from you. The feeling leaves you with a nagging emptiness and desperation to be filled.
He gives you a mischievous smile, nothing but pure arousal pools between your thighs. John grabs your hips, sliding you down the table until your ass was barely on it.
“My… whores?”
His eyes grow dark as he looks at you, his hands on either side of your body.
“Yes, your who-”
John grabs your jaw, holding it so your eyes meet his as he leans closer to you, his breath fanning across your burning cheeks.
“My whores…? Tell me, love, what does that make you?”
His eyes trail your form, sitting there, legs spread, chest exposed. His brow raises at the sight, waiting for you to object. His hands find the hem of your dress, hiking it up enough to rest just above your hips. With glazed eyes, you watch as John pulls down his trousers just enough for his cock to spring free.
“Why would I need them? When I have this?”
He spreads your legs further, thumbs pressing into your inner thighs as he leans closer to you, eyes watching you closely.
“You’re infuriating,” you sigh, leaning back further on your hands, staring up at him with narrowed eyes.
“You didn’t answer the question, love…”
John brings his fingers back to your dripping cunt, touching you everywhere except the place that you need him most. You move your hips, seeking his touch more and more, becoming frustrated when he doesn’t give in.
“John,” you whine.
He moves his hand, lining himself up with your entrance, just barely pushing his tip into you, enough to drive you wild. Leaning closer, his eyes grow dark with a glint of devilry.
“Why the fuck would I want them,” he pauses “when your cunt.. fits me.. so well?” He says, pushing into you in one deep thrust. You gasp, your mouth falling slack. Grabbing his tie, it anchors you, as you take in every inch of him, as he stretches you out. Your mouth falls open wide, and your head back, eyes closing as you savor the pleasurable burn that courses through you. Taking advantage of your exposed neck, John leans in, nipping at the skin, before smoothing it over with his tongue.
“Besides, my love, I told you, they weren’t for me..”
Your eyes shift back into focus, keen on meeting his.
“What-”
John hooks one of your legs around his waist, pulling out of you nearly all the way before thrusting back in, hard. You moan as he hits that sweet spot within, and take in his ever-sweet grin plastered to his lips at your sudden sound.
“They…were…for….Finn,” He punctuates every word with a thrust of his hips, drawing them out. The drag of his cock was sending your mind in a haze, and your body into a frenzy. Heat pulses throughout you, making your skin tingle, your nipples harden, and your breath grow heavy.
Your eyes search him for a moment, trying to figure out what it was that he was really saying. As if he understood, he continued, “You forget my darling, I chose you... I don’t need anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”
Your heart was beating rapidly as you tried to make sense of it all.
“I am yours,” he adds, his eyes narrowing on you and the rise and fall of your chest.
You were sure there was more of an explanation, more to the story, but in this very moment you didn't need to hear it all, you believed everything he was saying. You are, in every way, his and he yours.
Yanking on his tie, you tug him as close to you as possible. You catch his lips in a hard kiss, instantly melting into him, as his tongue darts past your lips and into your mouth. John snakes his hand down between your bodies, pressing his thumb against you, your moan instantly swallowed up by his kiss, as he massages in slow circles.
“Fuck, John…fuck…” you pant.
You could feel it, you weren’t going to last much longer. Each thrust, each gentle movement of his thumb was sending you, and he knew it.
“Come, my love….cum for me.”
At his words, your orgasm takes you, waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body, every nerve ending on fire. Eyes shut, back arching off the table, you let your head fall as you revel in the feeling. The ache of your abuse clit, throbbing as every nerve was being tended to. The cold air rushing against your hardened nipples, even the fluttering of your walls, squeezing him tightly. Fuck, did he know how to make you feel good. Your vision blurs, letting out soft sobs as John pushes you through your orgasm.
“So beautiful, that’s my girl,” he coos.
It’s only a few moments before John joins you in your blissed-out haze, his cum coating your walls, soothing the ache. A few more sloppy thrusts and he collapses on you, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck, as he catches his breath.
Pulling himself from you, you almost beg him to stay, to hold you tightly in his grasp a few moments longer. He places a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth, and you open your eyes, staring up at him. Fastening his trousers back up, John watches as you pull up the sleeves of your dress, righting yourself.
John places his hands on the table on either side of you, a soft grin taking over.
“See love, told ya I’d make it up to ya.”
He leans in to kiss you, but you press your finger against his lips, pushing him back slightly.
“Oh darling, you have a lot more making up to do,” You say, with a glint of mischief. Intrigue spreads across his features, as he takes your hand in his, holding it gently.
“Well, I reckon I better get started.”
You remove your finger from his lips, leaning forward just a little, smirking.
this one is pretty long, but I really like it. It was just something I’ve been thinking about all day. Hope you like it.
Warnings: Fluff
Word count: 1761
Being the youngest Shelby has its perks. Apart from being spoiled rotten and you were also very loved. Arthur, Tommy, and John were all in some way a father figure just as much as your older brothers. Arthur was more nurturing, Tommy was more fatherly in the way that he always gave you advice when it came to school or anything other than boys because the lord knows that he’d murder any boy you even showed signs of liking. John knew how to cheer you up in every situation. Ada and Polly were the best when it came to more feminine things like hair, make up, and style. Finn is your partner in crime and best friend, you two are close since you’re only a year apart.
At the young age of 5, everyone noticed how much you loved music. You’d hum to a song you’d heard and match its pitch with whatever objects you could find. At the age of 6, you stumbled upon a violinist, he was old, well into his 50′s, and playing for money, but the sound he emitted from his instrument was so enticing, you stood and watched him play. You didn’t know how much time had passed as you watched him play, but it was long enough for your family to notice you were no longer with them. They’d found you sitting on the concrete floor, legs criss cross, watching the man play his melodies.
Thomas got you your first violin a few weeks later, right before all of them left to fight in the war. In those four years, you dedicated almost all your free time to playing the violin. It was your escape, you practiced until your finger were numb and only until you perfected every note would you think about stopping, most of the time you’d still continue. Your music was rarely heard, though, Not by Ada or Polly and not even by Finn. Your music was yours and yours alone. You’d leave in the morning with your violin, carry it around school and practice somewhere secluded after school. Or you’d leave after breakfast on the weekends while Polly was busy with the business.
When the boys returned from the war, you weren’t able to spend as much time playing and practicing as you’d like. They became more protective than the last time you’d seen them. The first year they were back, after turning 11, you played in front of them for the first time. It was a simple song called ‘Andantino’. It was one of the first songs you tried to learn and succeeded. It was slow and beautiful. It was the first time any of them had heard you play and to say the least they were stunned. You were 11 and playing beautifully.
That was the only time you’d played for them for a long time. It always made you nervous when others heard you play. you were a little afraid of their judgment. No one ever pushed you to play. When you were 14, you stopped playing for a few months. School was becoming more stressful and it felt like you barely had any time to play. When school ended for the year, you picked your violin back up and worked hard to regain you skill level. You’d go to your Uncle Charlie’s place and go as far out onto the field as you could so no one would hear you play. And if they did it would sound incredibly distant and faint. you tried to maintain the habit even when school started again.
You ended up graduating high school early, at 16, and began to focus on your violin. It wasn’t strange for your family to not see you for the entire day as you’d spend it out practicing and playing.
One day, you decided to go back to the market in which the old man with the violin was at. You had little hope you’d find him there but you did. Still playing the violin. You watched and listened to his music. It was just as beautiful as you remembered. He saw you from afar and beaconed you over when he finished his piece.
“You seem awfully familiar...” He says trying to remember, “The little girl who watched me play for nearly an hour a decade ago?” You smile slightly.
“Yes...”
“Did you ever learn to play?” He asks.
“I did.” He hands his violin to you and gestures for you to play. You took a moment to breathe and decided which song you would be playing. You let your fingers lead you, the memory of each note to lead you. You let everything go and let the music guide you, ‘Gymnopédie No. 1′ was the piece you had decided on playing in that moment. You shut your eyes and played the song by memory, every note was smooth and beautifully played. The music transported you somewhere safe, somewhere warm and comfortable. Once you finished the piece you opened your eyes and found a bigger crowd then the one before watching the man. He was in front of you with an astonished face.
“That was absolutely beautiful, and all of it by memory... my God, you were born to be a violinists.” He says as you hand him back his violin.
“I wouldn’t be here, playing the violin, if it weren’t for me hearing your music 10 years ago, I have you to thank.” You say walking away, but not before leaving a pouch with money inside the hat he was using to collect his earnings.
When you arrived back home you found Thomas, Arthur, John, Ada, Polly, and Finn all in the living room. You were a little happier when you arrived from when you left.
“I heard you gave quite a show today, Y/n.” Thomas says. You look at him a little shocked he’d found out but held a smile on your face nonetheless.
“What? Where?” Ada questions.
“At the market, the old man who was playing the violin 10 years ago still plays there.” You inform them.
“And he let you play? How did he know you played the violin?” John asks.
“Yes. And he recognized me. It felt amazing playing for a crowd. I used to be so afraid of playing in front of people, even you guys but after today, It felt so... magical in a way.” you say.
“maybe you should do it more often then,” Polly says, everyone agrees.
“Maybe, I should...” You say.
“Why don’t you play at the Garrison?” Arthur says.
“That’s a great idea, you can play tomorrow night.” Thomas says.
“The Garrison is a pub, Who the hell goes to a pub to listen to a violinist?” You retort.
“Tomorrow can be a special event, it’s a great idea come on, Y/n.” Arthur tries to convince you.
“It’s an awesome opportunity, y/n. You play really fucking well, everyone would love to hear you.” Finn says.
“And we’ll all be there, so you’ll have more confidence and all our support. you’ll do great.” Ada persuades.
“So, What do you say, Y/n?” Polly says after a while of you contemplating.
“...Fine. I’ll do it, if you all promise to be there.” You say at last.
“Deal.” Thomas says.
That night you decided on which songs you would play. Some were slow and some were fast, but all were just as beautiful. You decided on playing the song you played earlier that day at the market first, then ‘Andantino’, ‘Concerto for Violin in A minor’, Accolay: Violin Concerto No.1 in A minor, a part of Brahms: Violin Concerto in D minor op. 77, Scottish Fantasy Op. 46 and then finish off with ‘Salut d’amour’. You would only play for an hour, that's the amount of time you all agreed on.
The next day when you woke up you decide you wanted to get some practice in, so you went to your uncle Charlie’s yard and practiced until each piece was perfected. You’d played each song probably a hundred times since you’d started playing the violin.
You went home and got ready with Ada and Polly later on. You decided on wearing a simple short sleeve light blue dress that was slightly shorter in the front than in the back. You wore white flat shoes rather than heels. Once you’d fixed your hair and applies a bit of make up, You, Ada, and Polly all walked to the Garrison together, your violin in hand. You were a bit nervous but pushed it all aside. The Garrison wasn’t as rowdy and loud as it usually is. It was more tame. You spotted Thomas, Arthur, John, and Finn seated in a booth. Arthur gesture with his hand for you to go stand on a small platform, While Polly and Ada went to sit with them. You pulled your violin and bow out of the case and stood at the front on the platform Arthur gestured to. Everyone watched as you took a deep breathe, looking towards your family who gave you smiles, encouraging you to start. It didn’t take you long after you started to travel to the place you adored. the place where there was nothing but you and your music. Your cheek rested on the violin, your eyes remained shut and your fingers played the right notes every time. Your eyes were shut but you could see a beautiful field with hundreds if not thousands of flowers, that’s where you were always transported when you played. there was a river not far from where you stood, the sky was a beautiful grey, and the breeze blew on your face.
You only finally opened your eyes when you finished your final piece, it was quiet for a few seconds and it felt as if time had stopped. you received a standing ovation, even from Thomas, Polly, Ada, Finn, Arthur, and John. You smiled and gave everyone a small bow, then walked to the table your family was seated at.
“Would you look at that, Our little sister, might as well become a professional, That was amazing.” John says.
“Thank you, John,”
“That was absolutely beautiful.” Polly says.
“Thanks Aunt Pol,”
By the end of the night, you’d received more compliments than you could handle, it all felt surreal. Maybe you could do this on a real stage in front of thousands one day. Others deserve to feel what you felt when you played, that feeling of everything being healed just by a simple melody.
rundown: after Tommy brought Michael home to Polly, he went to find you as well. Once you return home, you spend a wonderful day with your mother, immediately trusting her
warnings: anxiety attack, you might need tissues
word count: 1,7k+
request status: closed
A/n: I know Polly’s daughter was called Anna, but i still decided to make it Pol x reader
“What if she won’t recognize me?” You asked from Tommy Shelby who you met just few days ago. He was a man who came to find you with a really crazy plan. With a plan which was working at the moment.
“Y/n,” Tommy looked at you and you sucked in a sharp breath. “Believe me she will. And what do you think why else would we need your birth certificate?” He asked you back and since you had no good answer to his question, you stayed quiet.
Walking right next to Thomas Shelby you let him lead you to the house you were the most scared of at the moment. Staying quiet you didn’t know what to think about. What should you say when you arrive? Would you recognize the woman? Would she recognize you? You had no idea.
Thomas turned to one of the houses and he looked at you. Searching for something in his coat, he took out one cigarette and then held them all out for you. You shook your head no and looked at the house in front of which you were standing. It looked…. somewhat pretty.
Thomas lit up his cigarette and didn’t say a word. He started smoking, letting you watch the house where the woman who was supposed to be your mother lived.
Once he was finished with the cigarette, he just threw it away without stepping onto it and moved his hand forward.
“After you.”
You kept standing at the same spot as if you had melted there. Without giving Tommy a look, he understood and with a quiet sigh he got in front of you and you followed him up to the doors of the house, where your mother was supposed to live.
Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes. You could feel that something was about to happen. You could feel that something wasn’t really okay.
“Are you coming?” Thomas asked from the doors and you made few quick steps towards him even if you weren’t rushing. Your chest was lifting quickly and heavily and you couldn’t really help it.
Your mother was standing behind those doors. You were sure about that. You took a deep breath to push away the feeling of running away and you really slowly walked over to Thomas.
“One more time- what’s her name?” You asked from Tommg and tried to stop him from entering the house.
“Her name is Pollyanna Shelby Gray,” Thomas answered your question and you didn’t know what else to ask. You gulped loudly and realized that your hands were shaking.
Honestly, you were happy about that Thomas found your mother but something inside of you was worrying. What if she didn’t want you back? What if all of those things you were told when you were little really happened? What if she left you in a middle of the forest and people who you thought were your mother and father found you?
“Y/n?” Thomas asked you and you wiped your sweaty hands in your clothes.
“We can go,” you nodded to him and tried to quietly count to ten. Thomas opened the doors of the house and stepped back a little, letting you walk in as the first.
You stepped inside of her home and smelled candles. Trying not to pay attention to the details, you were searching for the woman. Thomas entered the house right after you and you took a deep breath.
“Pol?” He called for the woman loudly. One time was enough. The answer came.
“In the kitchen Thomas. You should know where it is,” woman’s voice filled the house and you got goosebumps. It was your mother talking. The woman you just heard was your mother.
“Come with me,” Thomas told you and you didn’t even move. Thomas was watching you and when he realized how scared did you look, he put his hand onto your shoulder and squeezed it a little. “Can we?”
“Y-yeah,” you answered and Thomas started walking towards the kitchen. After few steps, you were entering the kitchen and that was when you saw her.
A woman with longer brown hair was standing with her back turned to you. She was cooking something. And it smelled amazing.
“Pol?”
“Yes?” The woman turned around and looked at him. As you saw her eyes, you immediately knew that you were hers and she was yours. Her eyes slowly moved from Thomas onto you and her eyes widened. “Thomas-“
“I would like to introduce you someone,” Thomas said quietly and your heart was beating that fast at the moment you were scared of that it would jump out of your chest.
The woman backed away a little and leant onto the kitchen counter. She covered her mouth with her hands and with teary eyes she kept watching you.
“I would like to introduce you Y/n Anna Gray,” Thomas said and stepped a little away from you. You shook from the adrenaline and you were afraid of that you couldn’t keep standing in your feet.
The woman was still in shock. She had tears in her eyes and let few of them roll down onto her cheeks. She looked over at Thomas and when he nodded to her, she took a careful step to you.
“Y/n?” The woman asked quietly and you started hyperventilating. Thomas immediately stepped to you and took you by your shoulders.
“It’s alright,” he whispered and he kept standing behind you. The woman looked at you and you nodded to her so she knew that she could step even closer to you. She did so and you tried to keep your breathing calm.
“Yes that should be me,” you whispered quietly and the woman laughed a little. She had tears running down on her cheeks and she softly lifted her hand what made you flinch.
“Pol, slowly,” Thomas reminded her and you closed your eyes. The woman pulled her hand away what you could feel and then you opened your eyes again.
“I am sorry-“
“It’s alright,” you said quietly and Polly gasped. That was the first time she heard you talking. You swallowed the ball which had been created in your throat and then you took a deep breath.
Polly looked at Thomas and he pulled out a chair for himself. He sat down and kept watching you and your mother. Both of you were standing at the same spot as before and you gulped.
“Would you like to sit down Y/n?” Polly asked you and you nodded your head. Sitting down right next to Thomas, you put your hands into your lap and you started bonucing your leg. Knowing that you wouldn´t get hurt with Thomas, you tried to calm yourself down, but it didn´t work at all.
“Y/n,” Thomas said your name and you couldn´t look at him. You just bowed your head a little and closed your eyes. When you felt his hand on your thigh, he tried to stop the shaking of your leg. You looked up and took a deep breath. “Pol can I ask for a glass of water for her?”
“Sure,” the woman jumped up and filled you a glass with fresh water. She got back as fast as she could and put it down right in front of you on the table.
“Thank you,” Thomas only said and he took the glass of water and held it out for you. “Take a sip.”
You looked up at Thomas shaking a little and you took the water from him. Trying not to spill it all over the place, you took one sip of the water and then you gave the glass back to Thomas.
“What´s wrong?”
“A-anxiety,” you answered the woman and then you took a deep breath. And then another one. You calmed yourself down slowly and when your breathing was okay, but your stomach was still a little ball of nerves, you tried to ignore it. You needed to look okay from outside and you hoped you did. “I am sorry,” you whispered and didn´t look up at any of them.
“It´s alright,” Thomas said and a question was following.
“You deal with anxiety?” The woman asked you and you looked up at her.
“Since I can remember,” telling her honestly, you watched her face become sadder than it was before and then you decided to finish the glass of water.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you,” you answered and then took a deeper breath. And then another one.
“So...” Polly started really carefully and you looked up at her. She was- shocked? Scared? Worried? You couldn´t tell. “You are Y/n Anna Gray... my...”
“Daughter,” you finished for her and Polly let out a breath what she seemed to be holding in for seventeen years or so. She relieved and covered her mouth.
“Where- where have you been? Where did they take you?” She asked and asked and you gave her all of the answers she needed.
“I was... All I remember is that I was in Australia. Growing up in a house with kind people I tought were my mother and father. And then Thomas-” you looked up at him and he nodded, “then we got a letter from Thomas. Saying that he wanted to talk to us. So he came, we met him. He explained everything to my mother and father and since then we stayed in touch,” you explained and didn´t even feel guilty for calling those people your parents.
“Thomas you were in touch with my daughter and you didn´t tell me a word,” the woman freezed as she turend to Thomas. He was giving her the same kind of poker face he was giving you when you were asking questions about your family.
“She is here now,” Thomas said only and you looked up at your mother. She was watching him, giving him a stare which had a sign of that if she could she would’ve killed him. Instead of fighting him, she turned to look at you and… the woman changed.
Her eyes shone again. She smiled a little. Her soul returned back into her body when she looked at you and all you could do was let your tear fall.
“Oh don’t cry,” Polly approached you really slowly and knelt down in front of you. You looked at your mother with your eyes and you somehow felt like at home finally. “Don’t cry Anna,” Polly whispered and she took your hands into hers. You heard Thomas leave the room and you stayed there alone with your mother, knowing that everything was about to turn to better.
