#tommyxreader

[unnamed-slut]

Older!Tommy Lee X Younger!Rockstar Reader

Synopsis: After meeting Mötley Crüe in a club they invite you to hang out with them. (18+ MDNI) Alcohol consumption, car sex, sharing (Tommy shares you with Nikki), voyeurism (other Crüe member in car), fingering.

Authors note: First time writing smut, bare with me. I’m trying.

“Vince, you really shouldn’t be driving.” You say before taking a long swing of the whiskey feeling the burn of it sliding down your throat.

Vince groans his grip tightening on the wheel his knuckles turning white “That’s fucked up. Why would you bring that up?”

You can feel Tommy’s grip on your waist tighten causing him to press his body flushed against your own as you take a long sip from the bottle. Vince is staring straight at the road a pissed expression on his face.

“Give that thing back.” He says trying to reach back to snatch it from your hands. Mick is staring out the window ignoring the three of you.

You sigh and hand it back to Vince, “Just don’t kill us.” Vince snatches the bottle back from you and takes a long drink, Mick shakes his head at him but says nothing. “Jesus, I’m not that damn drunk.” Vince grumbles.

Tommy leans forward placing a kiss to the back of your neck. Tommy grins at you pulling you back up against his firm chest. You can feel his arms wrap around your waist, he holds you tightly against him. Mick looks back at the two of you and glares before turning back to look out the window. Vince is drunkly singing along with the song that is blaring through the car stereo as he drives much faster than he should be.

You roll your eyes then situate yourself so you’re straddling Tommy. Tommy smirks at you looking down at you as you straddle his lap. One of his hands moves to rest up on the small of your back holding you against him while his other is placed on your thighs. He leans down so that his nose is pressed against the side of your neck, the sensation of his hot breath against your skin causes you to shiver and moan softly. You can hear Vince groan up front clearly annoyed from the noises that you’re making in the back of the car.

“You two are gonna make me crash this damn car.” Vince whines looking at you in the rear view mirror.

“You’re either jealous or it’s turning you on.” You say as Tommy continues the attack on your neck.

Vince glances back at the two of you and rolls his eyes “As if.” He spits out before quickly turning his attention back to the road.

Tommy bites down on your neck sucking on the sensitive skin as his hand on your thigh slides up under your skirt. A moan escapes you when you feel his fingers on the bare skin of your thigh. Tommy takes advantage of the moment and pushes the fabric of your skirt up higher as he moves closer to your inner thigh. You can see Mick’s eyes dart to the rear view mirror and he stares at you with disapproval before looking back to the road.

Tommy’s fingers dance their way higher and higher up your inner thighs. His mouth is still connected to your neck, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. He growls against your skin when he’s met with the fabric of your underwear. You can feel Tommy grin against your skin, his hand begins to push the fabric of your underwear to the side, he slowly presses two fingers against you. He continues to kiss up and down your neck, occasionally biting down on the skin with his sharp teeth.

The car swerves suddenly and Vince lets out a string of curses as he tries to regain control of the car. Tommy smirks into your skin and sucks and bites gently on the shell of your ear. You feel his fingers press roughly against the sensitive bundle of nerves making you let out a louder moan in response.

Vince glances back at the two of you from the driver seat and can’t hold back his annoyance. “Dude, I’m trying to drive here. Can you two stop that? It’s too damn distracting.” You can see Mick’s shoulders tense as he looks out the window. He seems embarrassed to be stuck in the car with the three of you.

Tommy rolls his eyes up at Vince ignoring his pleas. He slides his fingers around you and slowly pushes them into you. He bites down on your neck harder as a moan escapes you.

“Tommy, knock it off.” Vince grunts from the front, he’s gripping the wheel tighter than before. Tommy’s lips are still connected to your neck, sucking and biting the skin as his fingers begin to move inside you. You can feel his teeth graze you as he lets out a low growl at how wet you are.

Nikki is watching the two of you with a smirk on his face. His gaze darting between where your neck and Tommy’s hand before moving to look over at the other two men in the car. You glance over at Nikki and notice the look on his face. He’s staring at the two of you, an expression of lust and desire.

Tommy can feel you squirming in his lap and he grins against your skin. He pushes his fingers into you deeper, his thumb brushes against your sensitive nub. You moan loudly your head falling back against the drivers seat behind you. Tommy takes your neck being exposed as an opportunity and begins to lay hickeys on your skin. He bites down causing the skin on your neck to redden. His fingers move faster inside you.

“Jesus Christ.” Vince mutters clearly annoyed by your moans, “Can you shut her up?”

You continue to squirm in his lap, the feeling of his fingers making you lose the last bit of your self control. Nikki is still watching the two of you with a look of intense yearning all over his face. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and runs over his lower lip. You feel Tommy’s breath against your skin as he chuckles, his fingers working against you. He sucks on your sensitive skin, before leaning up and whispering in your ear. “You’re so tight, sweetheart.”

You can see Nikki’s jaw clench through the corner of your eye. Your moans get louder and louder in response to the things that Tommy is doing. You can feel the pleasure growing as your stomach pools with heat.

“Tommy, I’m gonna-” You’re cut off by another moan, unable to finish the sentence.

Tommy let’s out a groan against your neck, his fingers moving furiously inside you, bringing you closer to the edge. Just as you thought you were about to reach your peak of pleasure, Tommy pulls his fingers back out of you. He lifts them up to his mouth and sucks the taste of you off them with a smirk.

Vince glances back at the two of you from the driver seat and looks as if he’s going to say something but decides against it.

You whine as Tommy pulls away denying your orgasm. “Aww, is someone sad?” Tommy says as he grins up at you. His hands are resting on your hips holding you in place.

Vince lets out a scoff from the driver’s seat, clearly unable to hold back his annoyance anymore. “Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” He spits out. Tommy rolls his eyes up at Vince and looks unbothered by the annoyed looks that he was receiving from the rest of the men in the car.

“What?” He asks. “She was enjoying it. You didn’t hear her moaning?” He adds a smirk creeping onto his face. Vince’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white again.

Mick mutters something inaudible under his breath, still staring out the window without looking towards the pair of you at all.

Nikki is still watching you, a pleading look in his eyes clearly wanting the same thing that you do. You look over at Nikki smiling at him. Nikki’s eyes widen as he sees you looking at him. A hint of surprise quickly crosses his face before he grins at you. Tommy’s grip on your thighs tightens as he looks over at Nikki.

“What?” He questions in a mocking tone. “You want some too?” You can see Nikki’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, his eyes move from your face and slowly rake down the length of your body.

“You know I do.” He responds, his voice slightly strained.

“I’m a generous guy.” Tommy says, “I could share.”

A smirk appears on Nikki’s face, “How generous?”

Nikki’s eyes are fixated on your body, clearly liking the idea of sharing you with Tommy. “Very generous.” Tommy responds without hesitation.

He turns his head and looks over at you. He’s got a smirk on his face, “What do you think, sweetheart? You want Nikki to play with you too?” You nod rapidly wanting to have as much fun with the Crüe as you can.

Nikki smirks, he’s clearly enjoying your eagerness to be with him as well.

“Well I guess that settles it then.” Tommy chuckles. He brings his hands to your hips and lifts his lap off his lap and sits you in the middle seat between him and Nikki.

“Your turn.” He says as he pats your thigh, inviting Nikki.

Nikki doesn’t need to be told twice. As soon as you’re moved into the middle of the seat, he’s on you. He immediately attaches his mouth to your neck, his hands slide up your thighs and under your skirt. You moan as Nikki attacks your neck, his mouth against the sensitive skin. You can feel his hands moving up your thighs, his fingers gripping your flesh.

Tommy smirks, enjoying the sight of you being pleasured by Nikki. He watches as Nikki’s fingers slide under the fabric of your underwear. Nikki’s fingers brush against your sensitive nub causing you to gasp. He grins against your neck at the reaction that he’s gotten out of you.

“So sensitive.” He mutters as he nibbles on your skin. You feel Tommy intertwine his fingers with you, holding onto your hand. He watches as Nikki worships your skin, his eyes flicking between your face and where the bassists fingers are between your legs. Nikki bites down on your neck a bit harder as his fingers circle the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body responds to the attention with a loud moan, your hips arching forward against his hand.

Tommy has a pleased look on his face as he watches your reactions to what Nikki is doing. “She’s so sensitive, Nik. Can’t stop moaning for us, huh?” Tommy teases in your ear.

Nikki hums against your skin in agreement, his fingers press against you a bit harder. Nikki grins against your neck, “Look at that, she’s desperate.”

His fingers press against you with more pressure, moving a bit faster. You squirm and try to grind yourself against his hand more as the pleasure starts to build in your stomach again.

Tommy is watching you from the corner of his eye, enjoying the sight of you. You whine, “Sixx, I’m so close!” “That’s it, girl. Take what you need.” Tommy says, his eyes fixed on you.

Nikki hums against your neck, he presses the heel of his hand against you. “You’re so close, I can feel it.” You start to feel yourself reach the edge, your stomach growing hot. You moan loudly, practically shaking from the pleasure.

Nikki’s fingers continue to work against you, his thumb adds a bit more pressure. “Come on, sweetheart.” You feel your body begin to shake as you reach your climax, your body shuddering against Nikki’s touch.

Tommy watches with a satisfied look on his face, enjoying the sight of your pleasure. Nikki releases your neck with a smirk, he keeps his fingers pressed against you as he watches you shake and moan. You’re breathing heavily, your body still shaking from the pleasure that you had just experienced. Nikki takes his time pulling his fingers from you, enjoying the reactions that he’s getting out of you.

Tommy chuckles, “God damn, you’re a sight.” He looks over at Nikki, his eyes move down to where his hand is between your legs. “You think you got her warmed up enough, Nikki?”

[agirlcandream84]

Finally Requited

This is my first ever fanfic and I have literally no idea what I’m doing.  I’m new to fanfic in general but am quickly becoming obsessed.  The idea came to me suddenly one day and I was desperate to see it through.  Please please please give me feedback.  

Tommy x Reader 

Summary: You and Tommy have been friends since your older brother joined the Peaky Blinders years ago and he harbors intense feelings for you.  Naturally, he thinks himself unworthy of your goodness and instead just remains in your orbit as a close friend until you suddenly need him and can no longer deny it.  

(I don’t know what people call these things but this contains angst, unrequited love, LOTS of smut, gentle love)

.........................................

Alistair Sommers was never your perfect match but he was the perfect match. Most women would be well-pleased to marry Alistair and you knew you were in an enviable spot.  Reliable, handsome, connected and wealthy.  You loved him in your way and no one could accuse you of neglecting his heart.  You poured yourself into being a doting fiance - cooing over him at the obligatory social events, keeping his clothes and shoes well-kept, and being a willing ear to his many stories - so much so that you’d nearly convinced yourself that you were content.  But this was a cordial love, one based on need and not passion.  Poets were not penning sonnets about this kind of love.

And frankly, you had no time for sonnets.  

Having lost your mother four years ago, and your father growing more frail by the day, your hands were full caring for three younger siblings who lived outside town with your father.  Coupled with a grueling job at the textile factory during the day and spare seamstress jobs in the evening, your candle was burning at both ends- rapidly.  But Alistair was a solution - one that was palatable enough and, most importantly, could mean security for your family. 

That is, until 2:34pm on November 14th, two weeks before your wedding date. An odd time to be home during the day given your long factory hours but the foreman had sent you off when it was clear you were feverish and near fainting.  After a slow trudge home to the apartment you shared in town with your best friend and roommate Tess, you stuck your key in the lock, twisted, and stepped into what would ruin you.  

Alistair Summers, naked from the waist down with his cock in Tess’s mouth, both clueless to your existence in the doorway and enjoying themselves with much enthusiasm.  Her head bobbing up and down just below his undershirt and Alistair’s neck exposed with his head flung back in ecstasy.  Both generously moaning and, by the looks of it, just getting started.  

You drop the bag you’re holding with a thud, mouth agape, much like Tess’s, and the pair snap to attention.  Shell-shocked for a moment, you stand in stunned silence.  

“oh my god, oh my god” you mutter breathlessly, the wind kicked out of you, almost a mindless chant as you process what you’ve just discovered. You’re aware of their movement and fumbling as they scramble to dress but you’re catapulted into another dimension entirely. 

“Y/N!” Alistair shouts, “I can explain!” as he attempts to hike up his pants, doing a funny one-legged hop that you may have chuckled at under other circumstances.

But it’s too late, you’re already dashing down the steps, desperate for the fresh cold air to sting you in the face. You’re smacked with frigid air and rain the moment your feet hit the cobblestone.  You gulp it in with heaving sobs, bent with your hands on your knees, mind reeling and still feverish.  

Desperate to evade Alistair, you start walking at a rapid clip, knowing he’d be on his way to catch you.  The very idea of looking him in the eye feels repulsive. You and Alistair are done- a fact that feels so certain it could be cast in stone.  There is no chance for repair on a home that never had a meaningful foundation, and you know this in your gut.  The truth of it fills your head and sends your mind racing to your family and their fate.  What will the price of your dignity cost them? 

.............................................

“I’m sorry. This is the only place I thought to go,” you mumble as Thomas Shelby opens the door to find you unexpectedly on his doorstep.  A cigarette hangs limply from his lips, his face immediately etched in worry as he sees your state-- exhausted, shivering and soaked through to the bone.

Tommy. All rage and iciness and determination.  The man never met a problem he couldn’t fix through brute force. Tommy struck fear in the hearts of many and he knew it.  But your Tommy, the one just for you, was different.  He became rounder around the edges.  His blue eyes finding you in a room.  His capable frame shielding you in a crowded pub.  His rough hands placing your coat on your shoulders.  

But he wasn’t really your Tommy, was he?  Much to your relief, he wasn’t really anyone’s Tommy.  But he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his and you both knew that. 

It’s a lie to say that Tommy’s love was unrequited.  You loved Tommy Shelby the moment you saw him.  But fate and circumstance kept you apart, moving through different stages of life at different times.  Tommy, obsessed with your safety, from others but mostly from himself, he wasn’t willing to hurt the only good thing in his life.  Until eventually, with the world on your shoulders, you found Alistair who felt like a solution to a problem.  

“Y/N, love, what is it?” he asks as he guides you by the small of your back into his warm living room.  The tenderness of his touch is incongruous with his calloused hands and piercing eyes.  He’s all angles and sharpness.  But Tommy has always reserved his softness for you, something few others see in him.  He ushers you in and towards the stuffed armchair by the fire, his first instinct to warm you thoroughly.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes love” he offers gently, almost speaking  like words alone could break you.   He helps you undress from your soaked clothes, keeping his eyes locked on your pained face the whole while despite your nakedness. You feel his concerned gaze but can’t bring yourself to meet his blue eyes, knowing you’d break the moment they were fixed on you.  He unbuttons his own shirt and wraps it around you for warmth while he guides you to a stuffed chair by the fire and places a blanket across your goose-bumped legs. You sit exhausted in his chair, barely upright, and he sits across from you on the coffee table- his eyes at height with your forehead as he leans on his knees to look upon your face.  After ensuring your comfort and warmth, he tilts your chin to meet his eyes. “What happened love?” he asks tenderly. 

You explain every detail, slumped in his chair, your only comfort being his presence.  His face a mix of concern and contained anger, he consoles you through sobs, his eyes never leaving your face.  When you’ve finished speaking, he leans back and swipes his hand down his face in an agitated rage, his leg bouncing. 

“That fucking bastard” he mumbles under this breath. Tommy’s disdain for Alistair was never subtle.  He loathed the man, any man, who might take you from him but held a special rage for the man who would dare hurt you.   It takes his every ounce of will power to remain where he is and not storm into the night to hunt for the man who could make you so broken. Only the urge to be beside you, care for your comfort, suppresses his rage.

You’ve been crying softly, broken, nonstop since you arrived-- finally releasing years of tears without an ounce of strength.  It’s a release of sorts-- to give up and let down every guard.  With one calloused hand he cups your jaw and strokes your cheek with his thumb, occasionally swiping a tear tenderly. 

“I’m here, my love” he murmurs.  He holds his shirt shut around you with the other hand, putting your comfort before his desires. Consumed with worry to see you so broken and concerned for your comfort and warmth, he fixes you a cup of tea from the kitchen.

As he clanks quietly in the kitchen, you take stock of your life.  No fiance.  No apartment to return to -- certainly not while Tess is there.  A father and siblings who my suffer at the hands of your decision. And you -- finally allowing allow yourself to break into a million pieces after keeping them cobbled together for so long.  

It’s on his way back from the kitchen that he notices just how worn you look. Nails jagged. Dark circles hugging your eyes. Your fingers pricked from countless mending jobs.  Your frame smaller than he’d last seen you. Your soaked dress in tatters by the fire. He’s watched you navigate a series of tragedies through life (your mother’s death, your father’s illness, constant financial woes), with seeming resilience despite his ever-present desire to fix things for you.  Once Alistair was in the picture, he gave you distance, finding it too painful to be near you with the certainty you couldn’t be his.  But that was a mistake --  one that Tommy wouldn’t make again.

He sits back in front of you, your knees touching.  Several moments pass as he lets you cry, offering comfort as your head rests on his forehead. Through tears and barely at whisper you say it.  

“Fuck me Tommy,” you murmur quietly. The words sound lewd but the tone has only gentle pleading.  

You want Tommy in the most primal way. You want his body to heal your broken one. For once in your life you want to stop denying yourself comfort and care. You want someone else to fix your problems, if only briefly. You want only him and always have.  And you no longer have the strength to keep suppressing it. Not in his presence in this way. Not anymore. You’re too tired and beaten down than to be anything but honest with yourself and him.

His hands instantly go still and he locks eyes with yours. 

“You don’t mean that, love.” He matches your tone with tenderness. Determined not to let you do something you’ll regret no matter how much he wants the same.  

He brushes a fallen hair away from your face. He’s spent so long yearning for you and denying his urges that it feels like second nature. And he can keep doing it to protect you.  To stay in your orbit longer.   He strokes your cheek more but you feel his electricity. “Please Tommy. Don’t make me beg. Not after what happened today,” you say softly, your eyes full of tears. He can’t bear to see you like this and can’t bear to deny himself any longer. In one swift but gentle movement Tommy lifts you onto his seated lap never losing eye contact, the blanket falling to the floor, your legs straddling him. He cups your face in both hands and pauses to drink in the map of you face, eyes darting around in hunger and then locking with yours.  Then he kisses you passionately, with force and power. You feel his urgency and attempt to match it. But Tommy can sense how spent and exhausted you are and takes note. He kisses you tenderly instead, matching your energy and capacity.

Tommy slips his hands through the open shirt and around your naked waist and trails them slowly to your eager womanhood.  You reach down and unhook his pants, immediately freeing his erect unit. You each move with slow intention. Not intending for you to expend more energy than you need to, he lifts your hips and glides you onto his unit with ease, feeling your eager wetness. You feel his throbbing within and gasp softly. Exhausted but content to have him. You’re both still for a moment, wanting this moment to last forever. No energetic movements.  No frantic fumbling. Only stillness. You lean forward and bury your head in the crook of his neck. Run your hands through the back if his head. Still crying softly you feel his fullness and cry more, knowing this is all you’ve ever wanted despite nothing in the world making that feel possible. You feel Tommy’s capable arms engulf you, sliding his hands up your back and hooking your shoulders.  He sits in stillness with you. Allows you to cry gently-- your most private parts full of him.  With your breasts pressed into is chest, only the barrier of his thin shirt wrapped around you, you both savor how long you’ve denied this moment. You pull back to meet his eyes and kiss - your tears hit your entwined lips and he kisses you gently. Feeling him this gently is something few get to do. Tommy’s sexual exploits are usually fevered and frantic, fueled by alcohol. Always looking to replace his desire for you but never coming close, instead using casual sex to numb his ache for you.   Tommy can see your energy is limited and only wants your total comfort. He stands slowly, grabbing the backs of your legs to lift you with him. His throbbing cock never leaving your warmth. You hug his neck, face still buried in him and smelling his musky scent. He carries you to his bedroom and with every step you feel him move inside you- a small pump that sends chills through your body. He places you gently on the bed, still inside you, and kisses you in earnest.  His shirt falls open around you, revealing your breasts and tender nipples on display.  He touches them gently with both hands, tracing their shape, taking you in. He’s dreamt of having you as his since the moment you met.  It felt like a fact of his existence, moving through the world tethered to you. Tommy resigned himself to a life beside you, next to you, near you.  But never with you. He thought that could be enough.  He’s so clear to him now that it never could have.

He begins to pump gently, watching your body in awe as you rock beneath him. He leans forward to feel more of you- inside and out. His elbows are on either side of your head as he kisses your forehead and works rhythmically to please you. You hook your feet behind his back and wrap your arms around him. You’re both desperate to be connected on every surface, in every way. He keeps a steady rhythmic pace, never escalating the way he does with his many exploits. You deserve tenderness and passion. His movements lean deeper, filling you more than you thought possible.

You rock your head back at his deepness and reveal your neck. He plants long passionate kisses along your exposed neck, never loosing pace as he rocks your bodies in tandem. He sees and feels you reaching closer to climax and wants nothing more than to see you pleased, for once. You climb closer to bliss and he whispers so softly in your ear you almost don’t hear it. 

“ I love you Y/N. I’ve always loved you.” After only a moment you climax, your body overtaken with waves of pleasure as his cock still keeps you with gentle rhythm. Euphoria in a way that Alistair never could. Alistair is a decade ago,  a lifetime ago.  Another tear rolls down your face at the sheer exhaustion, the bliss, the emotion of the day. Moments later Tommy explodes inside you, ecstasy apparent on his face. You feel his powerful warmth in your tender sex. He rocks gently a few more pumps, you both savoring every sensation. Spent, he rolls off of you and pulls you in without hesitation, slowly stroking your arm and inhaling your scent.  You settle into the crook of his arm, your cheek to his chest, as he pulls the covers up to your nipples. You close your eyes to hear his steady breathing, feeling calm for the first time in what feels like years. Despite your best efforts, you quickly slip into a deep sleep, spent from the day and in the protection of the only man you’ve ever truly trusted. Tommy lays awake, stroking your arm gently-- overcome with the days events, mind already working on ways to fix every problem, but truly content for the first time.  You’re his. 

[gloves94]

American Psycho [2/10]

Warnings: Language Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Gangster! American! Reader Summary:  In hopes of expanding the family business [Reader] arrives in England. Unfortunately, a cutthroat rival gang, The Peaky Blinders, become threatened. Thomas Shelby, their ruthless leader, finds his newest mortal enemy to be more than fascinating- Will this lustful affair end well for either? Who will be responsible for the coming bloodshed?

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T [prev] * [2] * [3] * [4] * [5] * [6] * [7] * [8] * [9] * [10]

"I am an American; free born and free bred, where I acknowledge no man as my superior, except for his own worth, or as my inferior, except for his own demerit.” - Theodore Roosevelt XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The crackle of flames was deafening. Neon light was hard on the eyes of the bystanders. The flames of hell reached for the skies. The booze inside of the building only provoked the fire. The bar line was consumed by fire and the building was left ashen and destroyed beyond repair. Even the firefighters couldn't manage the created chaos.

Thomas stood at a safe distance from the building. He lifted a cigarette with a stiff hand and allowed the burning sensation to fill his lungs. Allow his senses to momentarily cloud. "I will kill the bastards who did this!" Arthur tossed an angry kicked as he roared in anger. "Bastards!" He shouted to the heavens. "Burned down the Garrison!" He cursed the sick individual that destroyed his bar. Tommy simply flashed his brother a judgmental gaze. The veins on Arthur's neck were thick, his eyes wide with anger. "It's not personal. It's business." Tommy said cooly as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. "They burned me damn pub Tommy it is both goddam personal and business!" the oldest Shelby raged. "We'll rebuild it," Tommy said finally before turning away and entering his car. "Where the hell you goin'?" Arthur continued throwing his tantrum. Tommy sped through the streets of Birmingham. His jaw was shut tightly. His knuckles were blistering white from the tight grip on the steering wheel. "To find the bitch who did this," he mumbled under his breath to himself. He slammed the car door behind him as he stormed into the building. He walked past the Black Star lines workers and down the stairs past the hidden doors of the brewing bars and curtains until he kicked an office door open. Stumbling in he shot the first person he saw between the eyes. It took him a moment to catch his breath. He looked at the damage he had done. The man lay facedown on a desk over a pool of blood which reflected his sudden death. "Tommy," a voice pipped behind him. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't shoot you. You crazy bitch." He stretched out his arm and pointed it at the individual standing beside him. "Hm.. I wish I could," an American accent said. The woman carelessly tapped the loaded gun against her chin in a pensive tone. She then pointed her gun back at him. "Want to make it a contest?" She said with a wink and a smile. "You wanted my attention. You got it. What do you want?" He said through gritted teeth. There was something unnerving about this American woman. "You already know what I want Thomas" the smile on stretched wider across her lips. "Why don't you give it to me?" Of course, he had seen her. Skulking around the other night, provoking him. She was impossible to not see and it wasn't in particularly due to her appearance. It was her persona. She was the kind of woman that just demanded your attention when she walked into a room.

"You must be absolutely insane if you think we will surrender the docks on Gloucester."

Black Star line was the most ridiculous money laundering business Thomas had ever heard of. A money laundering business based on sea travel located inland in the heart of Birmingham, it made no sense. "America needs us, Thomas," she shrugged and lowered her weapon. "It's been five years without liquor. People are beginning to lose their minds. Son of a bitch Coolidge is beginning to poison 'em." Tommy lowered his gun now. He looked at her with dark eyes. "What's in it for me?" She was quiet for a moment. "Let's have cocktails tomorrow night," she suddenly said in a playful tone. "Molotov?" Tommy scoffed at the ridiculous proposal. His eyes followed her shape as she stepped around him. She simply smiled at him through a half-lidded gaze. "For your troubles," she said before reaching behind her and pulling out a black suitcase. She handed it to him. It was heavier than he expected. "Thank you for taking care of him, I needed a bookkeeper anyways." She said acknowledging the dead man in the room. "Landry's at- say 8? Don't be late or you'll make me  blow up another building!" She laughed.

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

More Than Kisses, Letters Mingle Souls

Fandom: Dunkirk

Pairing: Tommy x Reader 

Warning: A little angst

Writer: @imaginesofeveryfandom​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Summary/Request: Requested by anon:  Could you write something about the reader, Tommy (from Dunkirk)'s girlfriend, writing him every day while he's off at war until one day, the letters stop coming and she fears the worst but he really has come to surprise her? Thank you so much!!

Notes: Title Quote from John Donne

Thanks to the Royal Engineers letters are rather quick to be sent and to be received, while not necessarily a next day delivery, it was certainly first class, and you found that if on a Monday you sent Tommy a letter, that on the Monday afterwards you received one back. It was so regular, so recurring that it brought you great comfort. Each letter was a reminder that he was still okay, that he could still pen a letter in his familiar messy scrawl. It was a reminder that he was still able to come home. You’d known many people who wrote letters to loved ones in France or Belgium, only for the letters to stop being written in return. You knew what it often meant and you knew how terrifying it could be. 

The last letter you’d received had been over a week ago. 

Dearest Y/N,

I know, I know dearest sounds too formal coming from me. But you are my dearest, other than my mother of course (she would never let me live it down if she wasn’t at least equal to you). I’ve missed you, I hope i’ll be able to come back home soon, even if for a week, just to see you. 

It’s not easy being here, nor is it easy being away from you. Sometimes the only thing that gives me strength is knowing that your still waiting for me. Somehow. You have the patience of a saint, you know that? I love that about you; I love a lot of things about you, enough to fill pages and pages of this letter. 

Its nice to know that Mrs Jones is still baking those little pastries despite the rationing on, nothing could probably get between that woman and her baking, not even the law. 

Forever yours,

Tommy xxx 

It had been such a normal letter and that’s perhaps what concerned you most about the slow response to your reply. He hadn’t mentioned the war much and he never did, you doubted he wanted to describe what was going on around him to you. He’d always been a very protective person and you doubt he wanted to risk upsetting you or causing you more worry. He had responded to your comment on Mrs Jones, that she was still making those sweet little pastries she always made despite sugar, butter, flour and well most things, being rationed. He had seemed so normal...or as normal as any letter could be and so you came to the worst conclusion.

That he was missing, that he was hurt, that maybe...maybe he was dead and they simply hadn’t found the time to tell you yet. It kept you up each night that past after your usual letter delivery time. Tuesday. Wednesday. Thursday. Friday. Saturday morning you found yourself barely able to get out of bed you were so exhausted from the little sleep you had had since it had all begun. 

You weren’t sure what you’d do if he was dead. He was one of the most important people in your life. He was everything. Even away in a war zone he managed to make you smile and laugh through his letters. He asked you about your week, gave you advice, confirmed your annoyance or anger with people, he allowed you to vent, allowed you to be yourself even though he was in a much worse situation that yourself. He sent you joked and flirted with you heavily, reminded you that he loved you. Eve away at war he managed to show so much care for you. You hoped the same translated in your letters to him. 

If he was no more. If you had to live without him...it would be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

The worry sank in your stomach, gnawed at your insides, ached in your chest, but you still forced yourself to get up, get dressed and do the few chores which needed doing. Washing your laundry with carbolic soap, squeezing the water out, before heading out the small garden out the rear of the house to hang it on the line. The day was dry, not especially warm, but dry. If it had reflected the feeling in your chest it would be pouring with rain, thunder and lightening flashing and growling over head. But as it was it reflected a much brighter disposition. 

You didn’t hear the front door open, nor did you hear foot steps at the back door as you hung one of Tommy’s shirts, the one that you slept in when you missed him the most. You didn’t know anyone was there until a pair of arms wrapped around your waist and a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Surprise.”

You didn’t turn just clung to the hands at your navel and felt tears of relief start to collect in your eyes as you held back a sob. Tommy’s voice. Tommy was here.  You try to hold it in you really do, the little sob, the gasping sound that leaves your throat at the realisation that he was alive. That you had it all wrong, that he’d simply been travelling home surprise you. 

“Hey...hey...” His voice is soothing and soft as he turns you around to face him, his hands coming up to cup your face. He’s still in his uniform, still as messy and dirty as when he left France, his hair needs a trim and he has dark circles under his eyes, but he’s Tommy. He’s your Tommy and he’s genuinely in front of you. “What’s wrong?”

“I...you didn’t...I thought you’d died! You didn’t send a letter and its...I always get a letter on Monday...” You try to explain the sheer panic you’d felt all week without your usual Monday letter. The dread that you, like so many others, were going to be in grief. 

“I’m so sorry, love...” He pulls you tight against him and you don’t care that he smells, that he hasn’t washed in days, because he’s so real and it reminds you that this isn’t some hallucination or dream. “I wanted to surprise you with my leave...I didn’t-I didn’t think.”

Your hands ball into the back of his uniform jacket, scrunching the wool between your fingers as you allow yourself to calm down from the fear and the panic and relief. Taking deep breathes against his chest. 

“It was a lovely thought, Tommy...just don’t do that again, please...at least send a letter for the Monday.” You can’t explain what its like to have a reassuring routine broken. To receive a letter everyday for 3 years, only for one not to come. 

“I promise, I’ll never do that ever again. I promise.” You pull back to look up at him, taking in the familiar freckles across his face, the mole by his chin, the seriousness in his eyes. You know he means it. He’s always been protective of people he cares about and you know that it hurts him to realise that he scared you so much. 

“I’m glad to see you again...even...even if it was a rather big shock.” You try to pull away from the fact that you’d been scared for the last 4 days because he’s back. Yes, you were scared, but he’s back and only temporarily before his leave is over again. You want to enjoy it. 

“I’ve missed you.” He presses his forehead against his and you close your eyes, taking in the familiar gesture. “I’ve missed you too.” Before pressing forward to meet his lips with your own in a firm kiss. Its been so long since you’ve last kissed him.

It’s almost like coming home, even though you never left. 

[gloves94]

American Psycho [1/10]

Warnings: Language Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Gangster! American! Reader Summary:  In hopes of expanding the family business [Reader] arrives in England. Unfortunately, a cutthroat rival gang, The Peaky Blinders, become threatened. Thomas Shelby, their ruthless leader, finds his newest mortal enemy to be more than fascinating- Will this lustful affair end well for either? Who will be responsible for the coming bloodshed?

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T AN: Note, I had no idea what I was doing so I accidentally deleted the original Chapter 1 file. Bear with me. x [1] * [next] * [3] * [4] * [5] * [6] * [7] * [8] * [9] * [10]

“Loyalty to country ALWAYS. Loyalty to the government, when it deserves it.” - Mark Twain XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

A pair of sharp eyes eyed Thomas Shelby with intensity as he entered the gambling lot. They had entered a dangerous joint which was covered under the façade of an honest business, a traveling ship company, the Black Star line. All the right person had to do was answer the question "What time is it in New York?" to be allowed in. The answer was always "Time for Charleston." As of late, the Shelby's realized that there was a new player in town. Someone who was taking money which could've been theirs, and large amounts of it. The Shelbys scanned the room. It was an underground and very illegal casino. The room was packed, a cloud of cigarette smoke mystified the rooms. Several tables in the room had roulettes and card games which kept its happy guest betting and drinking. "Drinks are free if yer playin'" a bartender approached Tommy, Finn, and Arthur and handed them each a glass of cold whiskey. Arthur began drinking the whiskey, it was slightly watered down, but not terrible. Tommy didn't bother with such trivialities and simply dodged past the man. Several private rooms on the sides were hidden away with thick curtains and the Shelby could only guess composed the part of the brothel. They could guess the alcohol was also brewed underneath the floor where they stood. It was a sinful palace filled with flapper whores, gambling and enough drink to accommodate all and every scoundrel's need, desire, and want. Loud music blasted playing jazz, Charleston dance music, and other American tunes. They had stumbled upon a gold mine. Some bloody bastard had decided to just claim their territory and plant themselves on devil's ground. "Oi, Who runs this place?" Arthur asked as they approached the bar at the end of the room. The bartender who was overwhelmed by glasses and pours simply nodded his head towards a tall, square man who leaned against the counter at the end of the bar. They made eye contact and approached him. The square man had his hairline split right in the middle. His eyes were black and nose appeared to be bent from former breakage injury. "You run this place?" Arthur asked as they rounded him. "What is it to you?" The other responded with an unfamiliar accent that none of the Shelby could identify. "Jasper Markwat," he stretched out his hand for the Brits to shake. He was instead greeted with a gun pointed to his chin. "Cut the fucking act," Arthur threatened. "Horseshit, you're as American as Apple pie." "-And the New York Yankees," Jasper's face stretched out into a broad grin. He didn't look older than forty years of age with a slight peppered stubble covering his face. "How can I help you, gentlemen?" He clapped his hands together. "You set up business in Blinder territory?" Arthur pressed. "Gentleman," Jasper said in a lazy drawl. "May I offer some American hospitality?" He said clapping his hand on Arthur's shoulder as he wiggled his eyebrows to a table of women sitting in the corner of the room. Arthur's eyes slightly wondered as he eyed the women. "This is our territory," Thomas said sternly as he stood his ground. Jasper, on the other hand, looked annoyed. He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the Brit. "Listen," he licked his lips. "We came here to make friends." "We came here to make enemies." Thomas spat back. The eyes that watched and listened carefully became intrigued. Eyes wide. Somebody hid a growing smile. "This is a provocation. Right in our faces." Tommy lit a cigarette. "Seeing as you are a foreigner and I'm a fair man you have until the weekend to leave for the colonies." He took a heavy drag. "We have an understanding?" "Sure, sport." Jasper swallowed his pride and nodded with a side smile. Arthur was already drooling over the women in the corner. Finn simply drank the beverage he had been handed. With that, the Blinders left.

A woman emerged from the darkness of the underground. She passed under the radar when passing beside the dirty gamblers, the lustful men and woman of the casino and those intoxicated. "Alright, you got his attention," Jasper said with a sigh as he tossed a rag over his shoulder. He looked at her with a questioning look. The smirk on her face only stretched. "Now what?"

[gloves94]

Flowers of Glass [10/10]

Warnings: Suggestions of violence.

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Pious! Reader Back to [CHAPTER 1] Summary:  Reader is a devout Catholic. Her innocence and modesty make her untouchable to all of the men of Birmingham. However- is she really untouchable to all of the men in Birmingham?

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter [10] - Loaded Gun

With a mind sunk deep in devout prayer.

Mrs. Shelby was currently kneeling in the front pew of the church. She no longer wore her pristine white veil.

Instead, she kneeled and she prayed, she prayed and prayed and prayed.

She thought of Tommy, her dear husband, and she prayed for his soul. He was a good man. She knew it deep inside of her aching heart.

Often times Aunt Poll would join her in prayer. However, this time she was alone.

The cloudy skies cast a dull light which reflected through the church's colorful stained flowers of glasses on the windows.

Despite it being early in the morning the temple was empty.

Deep in devoted worship, she didn't hear the echoing footsteps entering the House of the Lord...

Mrs. Shelby had initially been so hesitant to marry the man. She didn't belong in his world tainted by malicious lies and deathly violence.

Neither did their child…

But did she have a choice?

Her child needed a father and his father needed him, and well- despite his occupation… Thomas had been a good man to her. A really good man.

It had led her to ponder on the philosophical question of what made a man: his job? The way he did his job? Or was it his character?

Meditating upon the Words of the Bible she came to a conclusion. God's Word, the Holy Book, was a book of love.

The greatest commandment was to "Love thy neighbor as thyself." She pondered long and hard on those words. Arguably God's first miracle towards humanity had been to give Adam, the first man, his equal, a wife, a person to love: Eve.

She would be the Eve to his Adam as he would be hers.

When reaching the front of the altar her eyes wandered to look at his pocket watch. She eyed the thin golden chain he had fashioned for it.

It was her rosary cross, the one he had once ripped from her heart in a dark alley.

Now he would always have a piece of her with him.

The day of her wedding she made a pact with God.

He had, and would always have her uncouth devotion, God that is.

In exchange, she only asked for him to save her husband's soul.

The pious woman was surprised at how her life changed when she married into the Shelby family. She spent a lot of time with Aunt Poll who was the family's matriarch. She liked to think of it as grooming.

Mrs. Shelby learned from her very quickly. Aunt Poll taught her what to do, what not to do, what to say, what not to say. They would often pray, run errands or simply enjoy each other's company. Ada would join them sometimes. And when Mrs. Shelby wasn't preoccupied with familiar tasks or running errands she could be found attending the needs of the family's wounded soldiers. An activity that part of Thomas detested, yet was thankful for.

Often times Tommy would miss dinner. Mrs. Shelby would tire of waiting for him with a full plate of cold food. After some time she decided to call it quits.

She could feel him slither into the sheets at the crack of dawn, his weight dipping the mattress. However, she wasn't one to question her husband's matters or his where-have-been's. Something that Aunt Poll had made very clear to her…

He would hold her tight and bury his face in her nest of hair. She could sometimes hear him mumbling something about "the drills…" in his sleep.

xxx

"What?" She would ask gently shaking him awake.

She had grown used to Tommy's odd sleeping habits.  His tossing and turning, his sleeplessness, the mumbling, stirring and even sometimes the screaming.

"Tommy, wake up!"

"You're here." He would sigh as his arms found his way around hers. "You're here…" He would breathe into her skin.

xxx

Time passed.

Tommy's business grew with time.

The Peaky Blinder's territory and infamy spread through Birmingham and further like the plague. There wasn't a person who didn't know who the Shelby's were or would dare touch them with a ten-foot pole.

Tommy's job was to take care of the family business. Hers to take care of him.

Despite it all, their marriage was no bed of roses.

Being married to Tommy Shelby sometimes included unpleasant encounters. She felt as if every night it was something different.

Sometimes he would arrive home covered in something or someone's blood.

Other times he was wounded: shot, cut, bleeding, tortured, ill.

At times he was even high out of his mind. Even tho he had promised he would stop.

The stress of caring for the man who had her heart had caused strands of her hair to begin to turn grey regardless of her young age.

Their marriage could've been called a lot of things- ordinary definitely wasn't one of the words she would use.

xxx

"Now you've seen me."

He said to her the first time she caught him fumbling around the bathroom as he washed foreign blood of off his pale skin.

"Please stop," she would cry into his bare shoulder as she cleaned his wounds. It was beginning to take a toll. The sleepless nights, the stress, the fear or her husband not returning to her any day.

She almost felt as if any day could be the last.

She pleaded to her husband to take another office. She would not care if it was work in the mines or even in the docks. It was probably safer than having him stroll the streets with a target on his back as the leader of the Peaky Blinders.

"You knew the kind of man I was when you married me," he would say gruffly.

At loss of words, she remained silent.

xxx

Other peculiar instances that occurred after her marriage to Thomas would be when she would attend the market to run errands.

xxx

"Could I have some eggs?" she asked one of the vendors once kindly.

"None for ya," the man spat gruffly.

"I know ya. I seen ya. You're that whore- bearing a creature without God's blessing."

Cross. Upset, yet without another word she turned and left the store. She held her tongue and decided to forget about the incident.

The next morning... Mrs. Shelby awoke to the man banging on her doorstep at sunrise.

"I-I am so sorry. I wish I had known! I meant no disrespect! Here-Here!" He cried out as he handed the woman a basket full of fresh eggs to her.

He wore a black eye and appeared and was dressed in dried blood from the former night.

Many teeth gaps appeared in his grim expression, his mouth swollen.

xxx

After that-

Whenever Mrs. Shelby entered a place, Mrs. Shelby got what she wanted.

People began dodging her in the street. Vendors would hand her free cheese, free produce, fresh and hot bread right of the oven. Even the lame and beggars would cringe whenever she approached them to give charity.

Rooms would clear the moment she set foot in them. All falling silent at the presence of the woman.

Aunt Poll would mutter that the people had grown more afraid of disrespecting her than of Tommy himself. God knows what the people of Birmingham had heard.

Rumors were whoever dared lay a hand on Mrs. Shelby would loose more than a hand, and whomever dared even look in her direction would be made a blind man.

Once- a religious man made the mistake of approaching her one Sunday outside of the church. He had meant no ill, yet there was Thomas. Outside, patiently waiting for his wife to finish her worship.

Mass had never been his cup of tea.

Without a word he simply approached her and claimed her. He took in her elbow and with a subtle hand on her back simply lead her away, his jaw was tight as he glared at the foreigner.

Mrs. Shelby simply smiled at her husband and took his hand in hers as they returned home.

Yet- despite it all… Thomas was a loving man to both her and their child. Their small home was filled with familiar laughter, breakfast food fights and bedroom pillow fights.

Some nights Mr. Shelby and his wife would dance to the latest swing jazz on their living room stereo. When Tommy returned from out of town trips it was always nice.

He would arrive with a toy hidden behind his back to surprise his son with. The child would exclaim and clap his hands in excitement at the surprise.

His wife would hold a hand to her heart simply relieved to have her husband home once again.

He would also have a treat for her, rare gems, pearl necklaces, African diamonds imported from the bloody mines of El Congo.

However, she was simply happy to have him back.

She would embrace him tightly every day.

Rain or shine. Shedding away her sadness or anger she would swallow her pride and embrace the man who had given her everything.

After all, any day could be their last.

...They stopped behind her.

The footsteps that is. A pregnant silence followed. A dropped pin could be heard in the temple.

An arm raised.

A loaded gun aimed.

Threatened. Her eyes shot open.

Holding her breath she mumbled her final prayers. Realization washed over her consciousness.

She begged God to forgive and save her husband's soul one final time.

Despite the darkness that Tommy carried within him, there was also good. He had done well. He had done good…

She kept a beaded rosary wrapped around her palms.

Wrapped safely around the white, pearly rosary was a loaded gun held tightly in her stiff hand.

Her finger itched against the burning trigger.

the end.

FIRST: [1] The Untouchable Woman

PREV: [9] Addiction

TAGS: @i-love-superhero  @savemesteeb @hollabackhollagram

AN: What did you guys think of the ending?  Let me know in the comments below! (Please don't shoot me (lol) it's up to the interpretation of the reader. Was Mrs. Shelby shot? Or did she shoot first?) Funfacts about the story: -The ending of The Godfather (the book) inspired me to write this final chapter. - I named (Name) reader “Maria” in my head. - I’m barely in S2 of Peaky Blinders 💀

[gloves94]

Flowers of Glass  [5/10]

Warnings: Sexual themes, sex pressure

Pairings: Thomas Shelby x Pious!Reader

Summary:  Reader is a devout Catholic. Her innocence and modesty make her untouchable to all of the men of Birmingham. However- is she really untouchable to all of the men in Birmingham? AN: Disclaimer*** I do not romanticise pressured sex. ((Just trying to fit into the mindset of the 1920′s) However, I do enjoy writing about unusual themes).

My fanfiction: M A S T E R L I S T

Chapter [5] - Angel and Demon

"Are you happy love?" Tommy asked as he stood at the entrance of the church holding (Name) by the side, hand tightly wrapped her waist. She stood next to him with her arms crossed over her chest. He held one of her hands in his.

It had been too much, but then again how could she possibly be upset?

After all, it had been for a charitable cause… right?

"You didn't have to do all of this Tommy!" she stared at the brand new organ the Shelby family had so kindly 'donated' to the church. There was a new table for ceremonies, a new podium, he had even gone as far as donating an elegant sacristy for the ceremonial Hosts. Both the priest and the local bishop were over the moon with the improvements that had been done to Birmingham's church.

She sighed, her shoulders dropping. Her disappointment came from the inability of the man to drop his pride for one and one moment only.

"I just wanted you to apologize. That's all."

She might as well have asked him for the world at her feet.

Thomas scoffed. The idea was ridiculous to him.

(Name) looked at him with her eyebrows raised. Thomas Shelby did not look like the type of man to apologize. Ever.

Without saying another word, he wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her dangerously close. She slowly eased into his cold touch. She had decided that she fancied the man. It was hard to resist his approaches, even if in her eyes he was the embodiment of sin.

He stole, killed, lied, womanized- she had also heard of Thomas Shelby's dangerous wrath but so far she had experienced nothing but kindness from him.

It was hard for (Name) to see him as the feared entity he really was.

Resisting him was futile.

Besides- all they ever did was spend time in the House of God which was perfectly normal. Outside of that, as far as (Name) knew. Nobody in town knew about their relationship. Not even her father. (God forbid the town's doctor found out.)

He had to have her. He crashed his lips into hers and held her close. She could feel the ends of her nerves tingling. She didn't even feel her veil slip off and fall into the church's maroon floor. She gave into him and pulled him closer by the collar of his suit jacket. The intensity increased-

"What is the meaning of this?!" a loud voice suddenly boomed.

A stout man stormed into the church.

With a red face (Name) looked away from her priest. She swore under her breath. Tommy noted it was probably the first time he had ever heard such foul language escape her pretty lips (and Lord forgive, inside of a church!).

Father O'Ryan marched to the front of the altar. His face resembled a stout tomato. He was furious. He reminded Thomas of a whistling tea mug. Despite it, Tommy held a bored expression on his face.

"This church is not a house for sin Ms. (Last Name)!" The priest ran as he marched towards the couple.

It was then that he realized whom the woman was with.

When the priest realized who she was with, his blood ran cold.

"Mr-Mr. Shelby," the priest gasped. Cold sweat built on his brow.

"Blessed be. To have you grace our beautiful temple." He piped. "We cannot thank you enough for all the renovations. The church truly has become a home for the community-" The priest continued rambling nervously.

The couple listened to the priest for a moment.

"-God certainly has a place for you in heaven, Mr. Shelby." Father O'Ryan said both his eyebrows furrowed as a tight-lipped smile stretched across his round face as he nodded his head in an exaggerated manner.

Tommy hated how much of a hypocrite the church could be.

"Thanks." He said after a moment. It didn't sound sincere. "Don't need it." He added cockily.

(Name) covered her mouth. Tommy couldn't pinpoint if it was to keep her laughter in or to hide her gaping mouth. He placed a hand between her shoulder blades and lead her out of the temple.

"You're the devil in disguise Thomas Shelby." She shook her head.

For her, it was hard to wrap her mind around his disbelief in life after death. She couldn't believe that he didn’t' believe in neither heaven or hell, the Resurrection or God's mercy.

"And what does that make you? My fallen angel?" He leaned in and placed a kiss on her temple. Her face lit up with a tint of blush at the gesture.

She was unsure of what to respond. After all, the devil, had once too, been an angel.

She was still touching her lips as they walked the dark streets of Birmingham. The devil had been an angel. The most beautiful one too. She couldn't help but wonder just what had made Thomas the damaged man he was today. Her hand reached for his and he wrapped his fingers around hers. She eyed his expression carefully. She could see the slightest curve turn upwards on his lip, despite it, he kept his stoic mask.

"Where are you taking me?" She asked.

He didn't answer. Simply lead her into the city. He might as well have been dragging her to hell. Regardless, she followed…

Rudolph Valentino appeared on the screen. His smoldering eyes and suave movements almost put Tommy Shelby's to shame.

The couple currently sat in the cinema.

Alone.

There was not a single soul in the room.

(Name) didn't know who Tommy had spoken to, but they had kept the cinema open this late just for him. It only proved how much the citizens of Birmingham respected- or, to be franker, feared the Shelby clan.

Despite having been alone many times, there was something unsafe about being outside of the church. Alone with him.

She felt vulnerable and unprotected being outside of the House of God with him.

Tommy sipped a glass of whiskey calmly. He appeared to be enjoying the film. Then again it was hard to tell with his typically composed expression.

Feeling anxious, sitting in the darkness of the cinema, (Name) held the chilled glass of whiskey in her hand, the only alcohol she had ever had was the cheap wine that was given in Sunday's mass.

Seeking for the liquid courage she sipped on the whiskey slowly in an attempt to soothe her uneasiness. She wasn't fond of the strong taste and forced it down despite the burning in her throat.

Today had been a day of firsts. First kiss. First, drink.

First outing together. She was on the edge of her seat, her nerves jumping at the slightest twitch of his hand around a shoulder.

Rudolph had successfully seduced the woman on the black and white screen that flickered before them. He leaned in to kiss her.

The grip on Tommy's hand tightened around (Name)'s shoulder.

She let out a shaky breath and turned to face him. She opened her mouth to speak but was instead silenced by his breath on hers. He tasted of whiskey and stirred something inside of her. Tommy leaned down and put his empty glass away.

"Tommy-" she breathed.

He once again silenced her. His lips left hers and trailed down to her neckline. They stopped just above her clavicle, where they lingered with gentle sucking.

Her free hand reached for the back of his head and rested on his nape, her fingers stroked his short, dark hair.

She felt her chest swelling as his strong hands lowered. Her heart was racing. This couldn't be right. 'Give in...' A voice in the back of her head whispered. Tempted her. 'Give in...'

It wasn't right.

"Tommy, please stop," she pulled away with a trembling voice. There was an unfamiliar heat pooling between her legs that originated in what she assumed could only be the pits of her stomach. He held her closer. It was then that his bare fingers lightly scratched the skin under her blouse. Goose-bumps jumped in her skin.

"Thomas. Stop!"

With an impulse, she pushed him off her person. He looked at her in surprise before emitting a small chuckle. He leaned in again to kiss her.

"Tease…" He grumbled.

His grip once again found a way to her body, his hand wandered lower than she wished.

"I mean it." She said sternly.

He didn't listen. She jumped to her feet becoming hysterical. He was just the same as those pigs that had assaulted her that fateful night in which they met. His eyes looked murderous. He clenched his jaw. Perhaps… he was worse.

"(Name)!" He said the following. His temper had been lost. His jaw clenched. Their shadows cast against the cinema screen before them. "I am a lady!" She exclaimed, demanding to be treated as what a lady of the time

Once again he reached for her, she pulled back and escaped the room. His gripped tightened around her arm. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. "I will make you my lady," he grumbled against her skin in a dangerous tone. Something about his tone sent a chill down her spine.  Her breath hitched at the tone; there was something arousing about it.

Without thinking twice, she tossed her glass at him. The golden liquid stained his suit and spilled everywhere around. The glass came crashing down and broke into shards. Tommy's pupils had shrunk to dangerous slits that gazed upon her scared expression. If looks could kill…

"I-I'm not going to stay with you in this-in this-" she struggled to find the appropriate word. "In this room of sin!"

FIRST: [1] The Untouchable Woman

PREV: [4] A Charitable Heart

NEXT: [6] The Devil in Disguise

TAGS: @i-love-superhero @savemesteeb

AN#2: Sorry it took me so long! I’ve been out of town and dealing with summer school. This chapter was hard to write, I hope you guys enjoy it. I promise the next chapter is to be very, very smutty x

[tommyslut]

tommyxoc fic

hey there! i’m writing a tommyxoc fic and was wondering if anyone would be willing to my beta. i’m planning to post it on ao3 in the near future.