snowdropblossom

Latest Posts by snowdropblossom

Being a pro censorship ao3 user is so insanely cringe. Either use the (incredibly effective and well designed) filtering system to avoid seeing the shit you don't like or stop complaining. Leave the pro censorship rhetoric to Wattpad or smth

lets see how successful this gets

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25 posts!

This is Money Snake. She only appears every 312 years. 

If you reblog her picture within the next twenty-five seconds you will have good luck and fortune for the rest of your life. 

250 likes!

welcome to burlesque

synopsis - tommy attends to this new burlesque club and he didn't expect to see you there

pairing - tommy shelby x reader (dancer!)

warnings - SMUT +18, breeding kink, creampie, p in v, unprotected sex.

notes - rushed, this is my favourite song and movie ><, divider by saradika-graphics

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

After the first World War, the inner-city of Small Heath, Birmingham is not lively that it used to. Loads of soldiers coming home from the war were traumatized; only finding comfort in whores, cocaine, alcohol, and betting.

With lots of men now drinking and snorting on their snows, alcohol businesses, betting shops, and cocaine distributors are now on their peak of their business like the well-known gangster, the man himself, Thomas Shelby.

It was the usual day for the gangster. His family running their businesses and sorting out gangster fights. Tommy is miserable in a way that he has no one to talk to or engage something with. Sure, he has his family but all he can talk about to them is business. With women, he still cannot find the right women for him.

As Tommy walked on the bland streets of Small Heath, inhaling his cigarette, he was approached by his friend, Johnny Dogs and his other workers. As Johnny walked to catch up with Tommy, he placed his shoulders on the gangster's shoulders.

"What ya up to, Tom?" Johnny Dogs asked, a smile planted on his face.

"The usual, John, business," Tommy sighed before he replied, continuing to inhale the cancerous stick.

"You should go to this club, Tommy! There's a lot of women in there, I heard. Just recently opened," Curly joined the conversation.

Tommy's eyes began to look at them. Recently opened? A club? In Birmingham?

He began to be interested and curious at the same time.

"Curly's right, Tom." John said. "Maybe you'll find someone there, eh? Or maybe just loosen up."

"There's nothing new with that, Johnny. There's whores everywhere. What's so special about this club," the older Shelby replied.

"Heard the women there are.. unique. Dancers."

Strip clubs in Small Heath isn't new for Tommy. But it's a bit confusing for him to see why his friend is very invested in this club. Maybe there's something more and special about these women and dancers. He cannot help but think.

"What ya say, Tom?"

After a few minutes of deciding, he exhaled.

"8:00 PM."

The boys cheered and clapped, playfully hitting each other's shoulders with their elbows as they cheered. A huge smile were planted on their faces

• • •

It was finally 7 in the evening. Tommy Shelby was already dressed for the man's night. A velvet red tie decorated his grey suit. His long black trench coat keeping him warm. The golden pocket watch with the engraved 'Shelby' name on the back hanged on the small pocket of his charcoal vest.

"Where are you going, Tom?" Polly asked as he saw his nephew exiting the manor.

Tommy placed his newsboy hat on his head, styling it properly as he replied to his aunt,

"Night with me boys. We'll be back by morning."

"Hope you're not plotting something again, Thomas."

"Yeah, no, aunt Pol." he coldly replied before finally shutting the door.

• • •

The ride was a little long, especially how this club is in the Northern part of Birmingham. The Blinders have finally arrived. Getting off their cars and entering the club like they owned it. The entrance fee lady didn't even bother asking them to pay since, well, they're the Peaky Blinders. Other customers hurriedly gave way and emptied the tables for them.

The club was lit in a red color. Circular tables with lamps were placed everywhere in front of the medium sized stage. Renaissance paintings were hanged all over the walls of the club. Tommy was suprised by this new club, it shows how the owner definitely has a budget for this.

The gangsters finally sat on their chairs just near the stage, ordering up a few drinks before the lights turned off, only focusing on the stage.

"This club is a Burlesque?" Tommy asked as he sipped a glass of whiskey he ordered.

"Yeah. Can't you believe it? The first every Burlesque club after a decade!"

The small band on the side of the stage started to play a jazz-like original song. A woman with a black top hat decorated on her (h/c) hair, a combination of black and white colour painted her tight corset while a pair of black fishnet stockings kept her warm appeared on the stage with a few dancers.

As the song started, you began to sing. Swaying your body seductively to the melody of the song, you looked at the guests. There were a lot of people in the club making you nervous but you decided to brush the anxiety away.

Tommy was widened by the performance but it wasn't the first time that he witnessed it; it's just that he haven't seen this kind of performance in years. His baby blue eyes followed you as you sang, mesmerized by the shift looks on your face. He kept a close eye on your legs as they moved fluidly and elegantly to the music. His eyes lingered on the way the tight corset tightened in your curves and making your form seem more beautiful with each breath. He was lost in focus, taking in each detail of your performance.

You looked at the audience again and now your eyes caught him.

Thomas Shelby.

The man himself.

You felt your heart drop, you know that one day he will visit the club but you didn't expect that it will be today. It was like a faraway memory coming to life the first time you saw him since the war. You remembered the moment that ignited everything between you, helping him with his broken arm in that dark tunnel. You can still feel the warmth of that kiss you had under the sycamore tree, and the letters you wrote one other later that carried shards of your hearts. That gentle kiss represented the silent relationship that has become stronger with every written word and every memory exchanged.

The way he looked at you felt the same: soft and genuine.

Tom had already shown many signs of trauma during the war, but he always felt safe and well while he was with you in the medic tent or on walks. You ended the gazing exchange between you two by continuing to dance.

You got a lot of "woo" and "yeah" remarks from the crowd as you went on singing and dancing sensually with your girls.

Tom began to be curious. You seem so familiar to him but he's not sure where you guys met.

"Who's the singer, Charlie?" Tom began to ask, leaning, his mouth just behind Charlie's ear.

"Oh her? That's (Y/n) (L/n). I heard she served in the war as a medic. Lovely ain't she?"

Oh.

Now Tom can recall who you were.

It was you, the nurse, who saved his arm after a bullet struck him in that tunnel. His memories of the war flashed back, and for the first time he wasn't afraid. Rather, he was somewhat happy. He recalled how you carefully applied a white bandage on his arm with your soft, delicate hands. She asked about how he was while exchanging life stories with him. How you kissed each other beneath the sycamore tree.

"Welcome to Burlesque!" The dance finally ended. A huge smile plastered on your face as you bowed, the big curtains coming down the stage. Loads of men including Tom's gang stood up and cheered, their claps echoed the club.

As you went backstage and sat on your vanity, you cannot help but recall who you just saw. His eyes were still the same; his blue eyes shining as his eyes locked yours. Memories of you and him talking, kissing, walking together flashed on your mind, making you frown at the memory that you hope you can still experience it again.

Meanwhile, Tommy excused himself, telling his gang that he'll be visiting the backstage to talk to someone. They didn't interfere nor asked who and why.

Tom finally arrived at the backstage, seeing women changing to their next-performance clothes. The dancers gasp at the sight of the notorious gangster, immediately covering up their bodies with their clothes. He cleared his throat due to the awkward moment, starting to ask where you were. "

Where can I find (Y/n) (L/n)?" Tom asked.

"B-back room, Mr. Shelby."

As Tommy walked towards the wooden door of your own vanity room, his heart raced. He felt his muscle goes numb every step he took. He doesn't know how you will react if he saw you. Will you be mad for him leaving you all of a sudden after the war? Will you be sad? Will you be happy? He doesn't know and he cares about that.

Taking a deep breath, his pale palms twisted the door knob, opening the door. He finally saw you. Sitting on a circular chair in front of your well-lit vanity mirror, loads and loads of make-up scattered on your table. You were wearing your long black corset only.

As you noticed the door opening, you looked at who it was while trying to remove your earrings. Finally looking at the person, your heart instantly dropped. You finally saw him up close after years of having no contact.

"Thomas..?" You stood up, feeling every electricity in your body flinched.

"(Y/n)."

A part of you wants to run up to him and give him the tightest hug and another part of you wants to scream at him for leaving you just like that.

"Why are you here?" you answered coldly but your voice softy broke, trying not to cry.

"I'm sorry," he spoke up. "..for leaving you just like that. I didn't mean to. I-It's just that - I didn't knew what to do."

As a former medic, it's understandable due to his mental state during the war. But as his lover, you just wished he stayed.

"Where were you, Tommy.."

"I'm so sorry, my love," Tom apologized, slowly walking towards you, cupping your cheek with his palms, stroking your chin.

"I missed you, Tommy. I thought you were gone." you whispered, holding his palms that were cupping on your cheeks, a tear finally fell from your sad eyes.

You tried finding him during and after the war but you failed. You forced yourself to move on, thinking that it was just for his comfort that time and you mean nothing to him now.

Slowly, his lips met yours. Allowing himself to be reunite with you. Tom's hand gripped your side hip as the kiss began to deepen. And there it is, you felt the same feeling when the both of you kissed under that sycamore tree.

He gently pushed you on the door, continuing the make-out session as his fingers locked the doorknob.

"Fuck, I missed you.."

"..so much," Tommy whispered in between kisses.

Your spine tingled with electric shocks as he sucked and kissed your neck, causing you to gasp and sigh with a mixture of pleasure and excitement. With an ache that made it seem as though he hadn't tasted anything like this in years, his lips finally discovered that sweet spot he had been longing for.

Every kiss was intense, every suck a confession of his insatiable appetite, making you insanely addicted. You got caught up in the moment, losing yourself in the heat of the moment as your fingers became tangled in his hair and gripped harder with every pleasure pulse.

"You taste so sweet, my love," he said.

You began to undo your black corset, leaving you with your black lacey bra and underwear, and your fishnet stockings. Trying to undo the stockings, Tom interfered.

"Leave the stockings on."

Nodding, your lips and his met each other again. Tommy's lips were stained with your red lipstick. The two of you ran to the vanity table, your hands removing all the items and make-up that was placed there while Tom began to unbutton his trousers and then his underwear.

You felt so aroused as your black panties were soaked wet. Your hole aching for Tommy inside.

"So wet already?" his deep voice made you wetter.

"Please, Tom. I need you.."

His cock sprung free out of his boxers, revealing how hard he was. He pumped it first with his hand before he moved your panties to the side instead of fully taking it off, allowing him to enter you.

You gasped aloud as his long, thick length began to gently and deeply penetrate you, each inch sending waves of powerful pleasure through your entire body. Tom, at the same time, moaned lightly as he enjoyed the way your close warmth surrounded him, the closeness sparking a fire between you both. His movements had a steady, deliberate pace, and your bodies seemed to melt together as each thrust was delivered with delicate passion. Your in unison breathing and softly spoken confessions of love filled the room, each one increasing the sensual, romantic connection between you.

Your body faced the mirror so he was fucking behind you. After a few minutes of you adjusting to his length, he began to thrust slowly.

"Oh fuck," you moaned.

"You feel so good — fuck!"

Your breasts bounced in time to every thrust he made, and your moans got louder and stronger. Euphoria rushes over you, bringing you closer to the brink with each move. You realized how much you had missed his presence and the way he filled you up entirely because of the pace of that moment. The overwhelming happiness served as a clear reminder of the intense touch and need you had experienced while he was away.

Your head lowered and your palms gripped the side of the bright vanity table. Your head was messy, a few strands of hair covered your face.

You can hear the breathy moans that Tommy let out. His rough fingers gripping your waist as his lower body jerked up, his head rolled back.

As he noticed your head looking down, his right palm gripped your jaw, making you look up and look at the mirror forcely.

"Look at yourself while I'm fucking you, honey."

Nothing but your shared moans, grunts, and skin slapping echoed the whole room. You didn't care how loud you guys were, you just want to think of him and him alone.

Feeling your orgasm build up, you began to let out a louder series of moans and gripped his arm.

"Tom—fuck! I'm close.."

"Yeah? Go on, cum on my cock."

"Yes Tommy, yes! Oh my god!"

"I'm gonna fill you up, yeah? Put a baby inside you. Gonna be the mother of our children, mhm?" he whispered on your ear as his pace quickened.

Finally, your orgasm came, making a mess on his massive dick. After a few more thrusts from Tommy, he came inside you, filling your walls with his sticky white cum.

The both of you panted, catching your breaths. Tom finally pulled out, making your aching hole leak out your shared juices. He let out a satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that was hot," he said, giving you a passionate kiss.

"I love you, Thomas Shelby."

"I love you, (Y/n) (L/n)."

this needs to be hammered into peoples heads during health classes (pshe here in the uk) if only to prevent further loss and problems in the long run

How to spot signs and symptoms of Breast Cancer 

How to spot signs and symptoms of Breast Cancer 

writers curiosities turned 2 today!

It wasn’t supposed to happen.

The car accident least of all. His gaze is on you, intense and scathing, watching you as you struggle to not break down in tears. He knows you can’t afford the damage to your own car, much less his, and for a moment, he simply.. watches, lips twisted in wry amusement as he approaches you.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry, I didn’t see you, I’m so sorry I’m-;”

He cuts you off before you can blubber any further onto him, his voice soft and low and amused.

“Sweetheart, relax,” His lips quirk up, and it’s then that you realize that this is Bruce *fucking* Wayne, billionaire recluse who’s hand in philanthropy is beginning to show in the recovering ashes of the riddler’s attack on Gotham. “I’ll take care of it. Are you hurt?”

His hands are steady as they tilt your chin upwards, his eyes searching and intense and dark even now, but the smile that he offers you is comforting enough, thumb shifting to brush a stray tear off your cheek.

Your skin is soft.

It’s the first thing he notices - sure, it had looked soft enough from afar, but under his calloused fingertips, your hands are like silk, sheer heaven and for a moment, he considers keeping you, considers taking you home right here and now, but instead, he sets his gaze on the car behind you, already battered and the accident hasn’t helped. It was your fault, he knows this, and just as much, he knows you won’t be able to fix it.

“What’s your name?”

You babble out your name, trembling hands moving to cup his wrists, the stability that he exudes enough to be infectious, and when he hears it, it’s like music to his ears, his heart lurching in a sensation of simple

Ah

There you are.

“It’s nice to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Bruce,”

You know. Of course you know, however reclusive he is, his face is plastered over the news constantly, especially now that he’s got his finger in the pie that is Gotham’s premier charities, bankrolled almost entirely by the Wayne foundation.

He decides, then and there, that you’ll do nicely as a pet project. Still wiping at your tears, he leans in, tall frame curling in to meet yours, shifting his expression to be as reassuring as possible. He’s not.. socially adept, not as much as he should be, but he knows this one, awkward as it is.

“I’ll get this taken care of. Don’t worry. Why don’t you get lunch with me in the meantime?,”

Already, he’s got Alfred sending tow trucks, scheduling mechanics, ordering parts. It’s not difficult for him to recognize the make of your car, the model, the year, and that’s sent off too, a flick of his wrist and a murmur into his earpiece.

You nod - of course you do, it’s not like you have any choice in the matter, and you’re whisked off to The Ocelot, corner table, assured that the ratty jeans and top he’s sure was ordered off of Amazon or SHEIN or whatever the fuck else are fine for the restaurant, love, you’re with him and it’s not like The Ocelot serves lunch anyways.

They do. Any reservations have been rescheduled, so it’s just you and him in there anyways, and it’s hardly like you’d know the difference either way.

So he sits, and he listens, watches the way your lips part to form each lovely syllable, growing more animated and less despondent when you realize that no, this isn’t a trick, that he really is going to take care of it and not sue you.

All in all, he really seems like a nice guy. Quiet, but he’s got a good sense of humor, and you like the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. At least, you tell him so, a little tipsy on the most expensive bottle of wine you’ve ever had the privilege to drink, full of food that he insisted on ordering for you if only to let you try the best things on the menu.

So when he offers to drop you off at your apartment, you enthusiastically agree to it, not realizing that he’s taking note of the building, the door number, the sound your lock makes as the key slots into the mechanism.

~

From then, you.. begin to date Billionaire Philanthropist Bruce Wayne. He’s perfectly nice, respectful and polite and honestly more than a little old fashioned, and maybe you like that, the way he insists on opening car doors for you, the way that he sends you clothing and jewelry and purses to bring along any time he invites you out.

Every invitation to a gala or charity ball is extended to you, if only for the opportunity to dress you up like a little doll, put you in expensive clothing and jewelry and coo at you, murmuring praise against the curve of your neck every time he ducks from the view of the cameras that always seem to follow him.

Nothing is too expensive for him, and though you do attempt to protest, he seems gleeful in his gifts to you, the urge to shower you with presents to endear himself to you only hampered by Alfred’s firm guidance on ‘proper courting’.

He.. rarely calls you by your name.

Always pet names, with him, always terms of endearment and suggestions of possession that you end up finding yourself flushing at, the nigh reverence in his tone enough to leave you leaning into him and pressing sweet, loving kisses to his cheek and jawline.

You’re untouched by the corruption that seems to seep into every crevice that Gotham’s foundations. Pure, in a way, so sweet and kind and good that he can’t help but want to protect you, finds himself going out of his way as the bat to ensure you get home safely from work.

Fuck, and maybe he breaks into your apartment once or twice, purely investigative, nothing perverse, he tells himself, inspecting a pair of panties that he really has no business touching. The sense of growing discomfort in his nether regions are enough of an excuse that he strips then and there, pumps his cock on your bed surrounded by the scent of you, imagining you on top of him, under him, gasping his name and begging to be filled and looking at him with dewy, glazed over, lust filled eyes.

He swears it’s not perverse.

Swears to *god* as he cums into another pair of panties, a pair he knows for sure he’s bought for you, and tucks them neatly back into your underwear drawer, shoving the first pair into a pouch in his belt.

Absolutely justifiable losses.

~

You’re so oblivious to it.

That’s what gets him more than anything else - how oblivious you are, how clueless you are to how many robberies he stops in their tracks, each interception before you’re targeted enough that you genuinely think that the city is getting safer, better.

You tell him about it over lunch, pointing at him with your fork, mouth half full of salad, and your manners are atrocious but he can’t help the way it makes him chuckle, dark eyes crinkling with warmth.

“I’m serious! I don’t - okay, look, vigilantes are bad, but like..,” A pause, for you to actually swallow, outrage flashing in your eyes as he delves into straight up laughter. “I don’t know! Maybe this guy - Batman, or whatever - maybe he’s doing something good for the city,”

He can only shrug in response - keeping his fantasies of you private and locked down.

~

And, really, the stalking keeping an eye on you comes in handy, inevitably, especially with how you tend to prefer walking home to anything actually sensical. He’d offered you a car to borrow while yours is being repaired, but you’d seemed hesitant with the expensive make, had smiled and said that your job wasn’t that far away, really, and it’s not as if you aren’t familiar with gotham - you’ve lived here for years, and you’ve been just fine.

It’s just a joyboy - nobody especially powerful, but his heart still wrenches all the same when he sees the gun aimed at your head, and he can’t stop himself from dropping on top of the aggressor, beating him to a bloody pulp and then some, his vision white with with rage and a level of possessiveness that he can’t quite comprehend.

All that’s running through his head is a pervasive sense of drive, a need to keep himself from losing anybody else, so when the man under him finally collapses, and he leans back to look at you, it takes a moment for his senses to settle back in, for the blood rushing through his ears to lower from the roar.

He realizes you’re speaking, babbling in the same way you did when he first met you, and the memory is enough to bring a wry twist of his lips, amusement flashing in those dark, masked eyes.

“And I was just walking - I’m sorry, are you hurt? Did he hurt you? Oh my god, are you bleeding?,”

There isn’t any fear in your eyes, but your eyes are glued to the gun in the perp’s hand, the smoke rising off of it, and he idly realizes that he must have fired it in the fall.

The bat rises, that twist of his lips compelling and familiar, and strides towards you, assessing you with a familiar sort of scrutiny.

You’re bleeding.

“Relax, I’ll take care of it. Are you hurt?”

He sees the recognition in your eyes the second it lights up and knows he’s made a mistake. Sure, you’re not as smart as he is, very few people are, but you’re not stupid, and that mistake causes his breath to catch in his throat as your lips part, a strangled sort of bark of laughter coming from you.

“That’s funny - you sounded just like my boyfriend just then. Isn’t that.. funny..?,”

You look like you’re about to bolt. The bat sees the tensing of your muscles and takes a step forward before you can, his hand stabbing out to grasp at your arm. He’s erred, he’s erred *bad*, and the little gasp of pain that you make is just another tally in the ever increasing lineup.

“Bruce?,”

And now you’ve gone and done it, and the fear you’re experiencing is genuine, the wobble in your voice and the suddenly glassy eyes evidence enough that there’s no going back from this.

The strike to the side of your throat is an instinctual one, the edge of his hand snapping out quick enough that you don’t even flinch, falling unconscious and right into his awaiting arms. It’s reverent, how he carries you, though he doubts you’ll ever notice with how hard you’re out.

~

That deep, deep sleep is a gift for Bruce. He hasn’t - he won’t - take you, but that refusal doesn’t extend to certain other courtesies. You’re ignorant of the way his hands slide up the skin of your torso, ignorant of the cold sensation of his fingertips against your warm body, ignorant of how he pulls off the worn tee first.

It’s reverence, the way his tongue laves over the hollow of your throat, the way each kiss is pressed onto the edge of your jaw, his eyes half lidded and his gaze glued to you. Careful, so careful - you’re delicate, after all - but still, his fingers press into your hips, savoring the plush yield of your curves.

Already, he’s fantasizing it, breeding you and filling you with heirs,

~

You wake up slowly, at first, and then all at once, unaware of your surroundings and clearly more than a little out of it. Bruce has deigned to leave you alone, for this part, and he watches you through one of the cameras he’s embedded in the room you’re in, studies the way your eyes seem glued shut, the way you almost turn over and fall back asleep.

And then you realize that you’re not in your own bed, and you’re a bit more dedicate to getting up.

It’s a lot more luxurious than you’re used to, and it’s also definitely *not* your bedroom. The sheets aren’t yours, don’t smell familiar, the walls and the curtains are a different color, and the room in and of itself is too damn big - you could probably fit your entire apartment in the square footage, to say nothing of the en-suite that you’re already peering at.

No, focus.

You strip off the comforters, realizing with horror that you’re not even wearing your own clothing, some designer loungewear and nothing underneath. You fight the urge to scream, running your hand through your hair, and stride towards the closed door, heavy oak and thick.

Locked. Doesn’t budge no matter how you wiggle it, not even under the entirety of your weight. No matter what you do, pounding, shouting, slamming, it doesn’t open. You even try running at it, like they do on TV, and that mostly just gives you a sore shoulder and knocks the wind out of you.

So… you investigate the room. Maybe you should’ve done that first, but the panic rushing through your veins has subsided, led to a sort of clarity that has you checking the windows, realizing they’re reinforced - definitely not glass, you realize after you’ve attempted to shatter it. Not like it’d matter, there’s wrought iron bars over each of them, way too thinly placed for you to even think of slipping out.

The room is.. nice, even if there’s a genuine discomfort in being locked in them. Plush carpet under your bare feet, a television, an en-suite bathroom.. you can almost imagine that you’re in some swanky hotel with Bruce, almost fool yourself into the perception that you’re definitely not on the verge of, like, death or disembowelment or whatever the plans for you are. There’s even a bookshelf, stacked high with classics and.. quite a few raunchy romance novels, all almost thirty years old and scrawled with the name ‘Martha’.

You end up settling on a book of old myths, curling up in the bed, and by the time that you’ve read a good couple, you’ve suitably calmed down, and that’s when he makes his entrance.

~

“Sweetheart,”

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice isn’t quite comforting enough that you don’t throw the book in your hand at his head, and when he catches it, you wince, shrinking back into the pile of pillows as he carefully, carefully moves towards you.

“Bruce? I don’t - where *am* I? What’s going on?,”

He hushes you, draws you into those deceptively strong arms and holds you, pressing his lips to the top of your head, and instinctively, you relax into his grasp, muscle memory powerful enough to override the pounding of your own heartbeat in your ears. You huff, and lean into him, soothed for a moment. He speaks, then, always so patient, so tender, his hand reaching up to pet at your hair.

“It was always a risk, letting you run around gotham like I did, but I thought I could protect you.”

You stiffen.

He continues to pet you, his voice soft against the crown of your head, low and worn in the way it always is.

“This city is corrupt, sweetheart, and I need to know you’ll be safe,”

You try to draw back, but the cage of his arms is steel, and he holds you close to him, chest to chest, his hands cold.

“So I’ll keep you here. With me.”

stop removing usb ports and audio jacks and buttons from electronics stop it you're hurting them stop it stops top stop it

“I fookin love you!”

Tommy should have known this was a bad idea. But Ada was just so fucking persistent.

She convinced to hire one of her friends, a teacher, a very good one at that. He was trusted with Charles’ education.

Ada guaranteed Tommy that (Y/n) would not disappoint him.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Shelby.”

Thomas’ piercing blue eyes trailed over (Y/n)’s figure. (Y/n) was a little bit shorter than Tommy, he had kind eyes, full lips and a lovely plump figure.

“Please, call me Thomas.”

Thomas thought (Y/n) was so fucking cute. Still, he did some research on his son’s new teacher.

It seemed that (Y/n) was a fairly normal man, he didn’t have any close family, was an only son, studied History and Philosophy at Oxford University. Again, very normal.

Tommy didn’t put must faith in (Y/n), however, he has proven himself to be a very positive influence for Charles.

The young Shelby seemed more happy, more lively, his grades also improved a lot. And he found a friend in (Y/n).

(Y/n) wasn’t only a teacher, but also a friend , he often stayed long into the night, just so he could play with Charles.

Tommy didn’t trust himself around (Y/n) the latter’s kind actions towards him conquered his heart.

He often found himself sending glances in (Y/n)’s, most of them were rather sinful.

“Oh god! Right there, Tommy! Fuck-”

“Fuck, you feel so good clenching around me like that.”

(Y/n) tried to close his legs, the sensation was too much, Thomas was fucking him so good.

This attempt made Thomas chuckle, his voice seemed darker.

“Keep your legs spread so I can fuck you properly.”

“T-Tommy, I’m gonna-”

(Y/n) spent all over his stomach, Thomas focused on his face, (Y/n) looked so beautiful.

It didn’t take long for Tommy to reach his own end, bering himself inside (Y/n), he came praising his lover.

“I fookin love you!”

Thomas woke up in a cold sweat. His cock hard as hell.

“Not this dream again…”

Do u think the young justice girls would have girl nights? Artemis seems like to type to keep it to themselves

At first, they don't. All of the Young Justice girls are a little more subtle and private, Artemis especially....they don't even know she is a yandere (which caused a few misunderstandings and awkward moments) until, one night, they find Artemis panicking and searching the city madly for her escaped darling, the girls stepping in to help her.

After "recusing" darling, there's a deeper bond between them and only them girl's nights become a tradition for them.

(also imagine being a darling and FINALLY escaping your crazy superhero yandere...only for a team of them to show up and help capture you again lmao the darlings are so unlucky)

💙 Artemis is learning how to be a better lover to her Sunfire. The others are more experienced yanderes but she's far darker, an expert at stalking, sabotage, and so much more. After your little escape attempt, you're on lockdown, watched by cameras and surrounded by booby traps. They laugh about her coming home to find you tangled in a net, Artemis dragging you home time and time again.

"I turn my back for a minuet and catch her picking locks and climbing out windows! My darling is so silly."

💙 M'gann has all kind of telepathic tricks for soothing her Moon and stars. Manipulating memories or deleting them entirely, calming an upset darling, confusing them in order to gain the upper hand. She even knows how to make a darling a little sweeter and a little more loving, something that's worked wonders with you! She's more then happy to help her friends out, if a darling needs...correcting.

"A tweak here or there, and it's all better!"

💙 Mist just adores her Dream and, in general, is such a gentle yandere. So much so that you don't even know that your sweet girlfriend and the stalker you've been so scared of are one in the same. At their encouragement, she's used the "stalker" to draw you closer and keep you there, her obsession masked as the sweetest love. They love helping her come up with new plot lines, writing an entire horror-romance novel with the two of you as the main characters.

"Sometimes I feel a little bad but it's all for the best, isn't it? We're happy and in love and that's all that ever matters!"

💙 Stephanie can be a little overprotective of her Sweetheart. Cameras all over the apartment, a thousand locks, passwords on everything. And can anyone blames her? You're a tricky little darling, something she and Artemis bond over. But you're slowly becoming everything she knew you could be, dreaming of the day you've finally stopped fighting and just love her.

"Deep down, I know my darling loves me and that makes it all worth it."

💙 Zatanna has all kinds of magic tricks and treats to help her with her Love. She's so convinced of your little love story and you are too, having been slipped small amounts of ( a somewhat diluted) love potions for years. You're so in love with her that you question nothing, allowing Zatanna to do as she pleases (also, I really like the idea of her and Dick sharing a darling, they'd be a terrible and romantic pair).

"A little magic goes a long way!"

You know what I love the idea of?

The yandere Young Justice boys having a guys night. Ordering pizza, playing video games...and talking all about their darlings. Because they are all yandere and encouraging each other in the worst of ways, falling further and further into madness together.

❤ Dick shows off his latest surveillance system, cameras hidden all over the apartment he shares with his Songbird. They watch you move from camera to camera and tease him over having such a pretty little thing for a darling 🖤 but it's all in good fun and he offers to set something up for all of them.

"We gotta keep them safe, right?"

❤ Conner vents over a creep that had been looking his Sunshine too much, talking to you too much, and how much he hates it, jealous burning in his heart. Of course, the supportive friends they are, encourage him to...take care of it. They even offer to help!

"Dick's right, no one can protect them like we can...I've gotta do something about this guy."

❤ Victor brags about how sweet his Starlight is, how you never question him or think twice about a damn thing, too in love with him to know any better. Sometimes he feels a little guilty, manipulating you like this...but it's all for the best. The world is a dangerous place, they know that better then anyone, and all he wants is to protect his true love.

"Besides, she's happy! And who am I to ruin that for her?"

❤ Tim gives stalking and manipulation tactics he uses with his Dove, he's the best at it. Most would think he's the softest yandere or barely one at all, but they'd be dead wrong. He's one of the worst but he hides it so well, even other yanderes don't pick up on it. And you certainly don't, falling deeper and deeper in love without even knowing how terrible he really is.

"Subtly is the key...that, and a little murder, maybe some kidnapping."

❤ Jaime shows off his "keepsakes" that he took from his Mariposa, just little things. The barrette you'd left in his room, a few lip glosses, pictures he'd taken together (and some of you walking, studying, sleeping, never knowing you were being watched).

"I just need to have little pieces of mi amor, you know? It makes me feel happy."

❤ Kaldur'ahm discusses how his Pearl's latest punishment. You're a wild little thing but that's what he loves about you...and what he loves even more is how you're slowly letting go and letting him love you, his dream come true finally coming in sight. He's a harsh yandere but that, he declares, is exactly what you needed. Someone strong and sweet to love you endlessly.

"Who knows, you might get a wedding invitation in a year or so."

They're all just men in love and madness, falling deeper into their darlings!

for anyone wondering, Mariposa means butterfly in Spanish...I really liked the idea of Jaime carrying on the insect theme in a cute little way. 🦋

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My policeman | m!reader

Date: 06.12.2022

Pairing:  Tommy Shelby x m!reader

Reader’s pronouns: he/him

Words: 4.840

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Characters: m!reader, Tommy Shelby, Polly Gray, Ada Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Esme Shelby, Harry Fenton, others

Genre: Romance

Length: Oneshot

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending

Requested: No

Prompts: No

Summary: Tommy Shelby is suddenly very interested in you and you have no idea why.

A/N: English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistake, and I would love to know what you think about it. If you like my works, please like and reblog them. REQUESTS ARE OPEN. I posted a List of prompts, so check it out! Let me know if you would like to be tagged in my works.

IF YOU LIKE MY WORKS, PLEASE REBLOG THEM

Masterlist

Ao3

You were on patrol around the city with one of your colleagues. You knew he was on the Peaky Blinders' payroll but, after all, only a handful of policemen weren't. You were one of them. It was confusing to most people in Small Heath, mainly because they knew you were John Shelby's best friend. He had offered you money to give them information and turn a blind eye to their affairs as they did with everyone, but you had made it clear that you couldn't be bought. He had respected that. The balance was fragile. The whole deal was based on your friendship. You had been able to refuse the money without losing your job because you were friends and people respected you because of your bond to the most powerful family in Birmingham, and a little because you did your job and wouldn't hesitate to throw people in jail if needed. You didn't pretend not to see what happened around you. Not even if the Peaky Blinders were involved. However, being friends with John also prevented you from trying to tear the whole business down. Everyone had learnt it pretty soon, so they had just started doing their things when you weren't on patrol, which meant your rounds were always quiet. You didn't complain. You didn't like arresting people, especially if they were Blinders.

That day seemed to be especially quiet. Well, as quiet as Small Heath could be. Your eyes observed the people going on about their lives around you while you chatted with your colleague. Many people greeted you, and you smiled back.

You turned to your partner, your eyes wide and a big smile on your face. "What?! No way. What is this, your... seventh?"

"Yeah," he replied smiling proudly under his thick moustache. "Four girls and two boys. I'm rooting for another boy."

"Congrats!" You patted his back, but you saw his face change, suddenly becoming serious.

He looked up and touched his cap, tilting his head down. "Morning, Mr Shelby."

You turned and saw Thomas Shelby on one of his horses, riding down the road. You nodded towards him as a form of greeting but didn't touch your cap or wish him a good day.

He nodded back at you, and you felt his icy blue eyes pierce through you. It wasn't anything new. You felt that way every time he looked at you and you wondered if everyone could feel it when they were under his gaze as if he could see everything that was inside. It felt as if God was scrutinizing you. You did understand why John called him Tommy the Almighty.

Even as he passed by you, you could still feel his eyes burn holes in you. You kept walking but turned to look at him and saw he was already looking. You turned back to the front.

"I don't know how you can refuse their offer. By the way he was looking at you, he really wants you on his payroll."

"Yeah, well, John knows it won't happen." You shrugged, but the feeling of his eyes on you lingered and stayed with you for the rest of the day.

When you walked into the Garrison that night and asked Harry for a glass of whiskey, he refused your money and said it had already been paid for, then nodded towards the private room next to the counter.

"Mr Shelby wishes to speak with you."

You rolled your eyes at the formality John liked to mess with when you were involved and grabbed your glass heading to the room.

"Come on, John, how many tim-" you started as you opened the door only to stop mid-sentence when you met Tommy's icy gaze instead of John's warm and playful one. "Thomas."

He was smoking alone, a glass of whiskey in front of him.

He beckoned you with a motion of his fingers. "Close the door and take a sit."

Your eyebrows raised, unimpressed by how he was treating you like one of his men. Maybe he had forgotten you didn't work for him.

"If you want to buy me, Thomas, you can save it. I'm not on sale," you said without doing any of the things he had asked of you.

He observed you for a few long seconds as if trying to read you. Then he sighed, tearing his gaze away from you and knocking the ash of his cigarette into the ashtray. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you."

When you still didn't move, he turned towards you again. "I promise. Please, come sit with me."

You hid your surprise at hearing him saying the word "please." You didn't think he even knew how to pronounce it for lack of use. You closed the door behind you and took a sit on the other side of the table from him.

You rolled the whiskey in your glass waiting for him to speak. "What did you want to talk about?" you asked when he didn't.

He offered you a cigarette but you refused. You didn't trust him outside family gatherings and that wasn't a social call.

"I would like to invite you to dinner."

You frowned. You had already been to dinner at the Shelbys plenty of times and not once had Thomas himself been the one to invite you. "Uhm... sure, tell Polly to count me in."

"I mean with me."

His reply startled a laugh out of you. "I never thought you were one for pranks. Thought you left that to Johnny."

He stared at you, his expression unchanged. There was no trace of a smile on his face. "I'm serious."

You looked back at him with a newfound seriousness and slammed your glass on the table, spilling some of its content. "I really hope not."

It was your turn to observe him, trying to understand what his real intentions were. "What do you really want from me, Thomas?"

"I want to take you out for dinner."

You snorted. "You think I'm a fool?"

"No," he let out much lower than his usual tone.

"You can't buy me so you're trying to get me arrested. That's too low even for you."

He shook his head. "That's not-"

"Save your bullshit," you interrupted getting up. You leaned forward pointing a finger at him. "You try this shit again and I'll get you arrested."

Then you walked out.

You were smoking with John by the cut like you did when you were fifteen. You loved the fact that your friendship hadn't changed all that much, not after you had been to war together, nor when you had decided to join the police. With John, it had always been easy. No judgement, just two boys having fun and doing what they had to live in such a hard world.

"So, new girls?" he joked.

You looked at him unimpressed, before looking back in front of you.

John was the only person who knew you didn't like girls. You had found out thanks to him. When you were young, you had experimented with each other. There had been some kisses and a couple of hand jobs. He had soon understood he wasn't into men, but he had never judged you. To these days he still joked about it and you had never really minded until Thomas had asked you out.

"Did you tell him?"

He abruptly turned to look at you. "You know I would never."

"Then how the fuck did he know, John?" you asked, throwing your unfinished cigarette into the cut, clearly upset.

"Tommy, he always seems to know shit," he said slowly, playing with his cap and looking down at it in his lap. He looked at you. "But he means good. He isn't trying to fuck you up."

You snorted. You trusted John and you were sure he believed what he was saying, but Thomas was cunning and he could have people believe anything he wanted. Maybe he had tricked his own brother into believing he really was interested in you, knowing he would have put a good word in for him.

"Are you still coming to dinner tomorrow though?"

You had been a guest of the Shelbys every Saturday for dinner for as long as you could remember.

"Will he be there?"

"Probably."

You groaned.

"Come on. You won't even have to talk to him. How many times have you two talked at dinner?"

You frowned. "Probably more than you would expect."

Now that you thought of it, Tommy had always found a way to exchange a few words with you after dinner about the most random topics. You had always enjoyed those moments. Talking with him was nice. He didn't smile a lot, not like before the war, but he had always been kind to you. You had always thought he did that just for John's sake, so you had never considered him a friend or anything. In addition to that, the huge crush you had had on him had made it hard to be as comfortable with him as you were with the rest of the family. You had completely overcome that now, though. Still, the awkwardness was hard to shake off.

John bumped his shoulders into yours, bringing you back to the present. "The kids will be a pain if you don't come."

You rolled your eyes. "Fine."

John grinned triumphantly.

When you stepped into the Shelbys' household the following evening, you got surrounded by John's kids. They either hugged you, pulled you somewhere, or screamed at you about their day. You loved them, but they could be a lot. Finally, Ada came to save you, and you smiled gratefully at her. She hugged you and invited you to follow her to the kitchen where all the others were. Tommy was missing, and you felt relief flooding you. You hadn't even finished greeting everyone when the front door opened. Little Finn ran to welcome the newcomer. You held your breath and your eyes found John's on the other side of the room. He looked guilty. You frowned, but before you could take him aside to ask what he had done, Tommy walked into the kitchen with Finn in his arms. When you turned towards him, he was already looking at you and you couldn't bring yourself to utter a word in greeting. Your lips stayed still.

"Let's sit and eat," Polly said, setting the pot in the centre of the table.

While she served, everyone took a seat, and somehow you found yourself next to Tommy. John had taken the seat that was usually reserved for you and you had to take his. Now you understood the look you had seen in his eyes earlier. You would punch him later.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it's something." Tommy's murmur was drowned by the others chatting and you would have missed it too if you hadn't been so close to him.

You pretended you hadn't heard and instead thanked Polly for filling your plate.

For the whole dinner, you did everything you could to forget Thomas was there. You chatted with everyone, complimented Polly for her cooking, asked Esme how she could be so patient with all those troublemakers around, glared at John multiple times, joked with the kids, even taking one of them on your lap when he wanted to show you the small gap in his smile left by the tooth he had lost a couple of days earlier.

Tommy stayed silent for the most part, as usual. He commented on a thing here or there and messed with the kids for a little fun. You could always feel his gaze on you. His eyes might have been the colour of ice, but sure as hell, you could feel them burn on your skin. He saw to it so that your glass was never empty, and even if you remembered distinctly rejecting him that day at the Garrison, it seemed like he hadn't gotten the memo, although he had probably just decided to ignore it because Tommy Shelby only ever played by his rules.

After dinner, the children went off somewhere to play while Polly and Esme washed the dishes. Ada had excused herself saying she was tired and she would go to bed early, but you were pretty sure she would climb out of the window to go see Freddy. Arthur took out a bottle of rum and filled four glasses.

"I should go, actually," you announced, getting up.

"No way!"

"Oh come on, you can stay for a nightcap."

John, who was now sitting next to you, pulled on your arm and you sat back down with a sigh. Arthur grinned and a small, pleased smile appeared on Tommy's face. You wanted to slap it away. Instead, you glared at him and grabbed his cigarette case to take one in retaliation. It only caused his smile to grow.

You put the cigarette between your lips and scowled at him when he leaned in touching the end of your cigarette with yours to light it up. You hated how your heart skipped a beat and blood rushed to your cheeks. You inhaled and pulled back quickly, missing the looks Arthur and John had exchanged seconds earlier.

You exhaled the smoke and quickly downed your glass, making John snort. You pushed the glass towards Arthur, silently asking for a refill. He chuckled and shook his head but poured you another glass. Tommy was looking at the whole thing with an amused glint in his eyes. Once again you did your best to ignore him.

"Seeing a girl tonight? Is that why you're in a hurry?" Arthur teased.

You felt Tommy tense next to you, but you couldn't be sure and you didn't dare turn to look at him, not wanting to give yourself away.

You waved a hand. "I'm leaving them all to you, Arthur."

That made him laugh. "That's wise."

"You should have it easy now that Johnny is taken," you commented. Then you turned towards Tommy. "What about you, Thomas? I bet you have all the girls falling for you. What is it? Nobody is good enough for the great Thomas Shelby?" you teased.

"You're the only person who calls him that," John commented amusedly.

"And aunt Pol when she's angry," Arthur added.

Tommy stared at you seriously.

When you had given up on waiting for a reply and went to take a sip of your rum, Tommy finally spoke. "I already have my eyes on someone," he said quietly.

You choked on the rum and coughed. John patted your back. "You alright?"

You nodded and pulled at the collar of your shirt, although it didn't really do anything to help your situation. You did your best to compose yourself while Tommy tried to hide a small amused smile behind his cigarette.

"So, who's the lucky girl?" you asked when you finally managed to breathe again.

Arthur's boisterous laugh filled the room. "That would be some change."

Tommy paid him no mind and kept his glacial eyes on you. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

Both his reply and Arthur's comment confused you. Before you could inquire further, you heard John's glass clink on the table, soon followed by Arthur's. Your eyes snapped to them as they got up.

"We're headin' to the Garrison. Are you coming?" Arthur asked.

"Uh... no. I should really go. I have work tomorrow."

John patted your back. "See you tomorrow?"

You nodded and they left. The last conversation had made you forget about John's guilty look at the beginning of the night.

You suddenly realized they had left you alone with Tommy. You cleared your throat and put out your cigarette into the ashtray, then downed the rest of your rum.

"I should really go."

You got up, but so did Tommy. He killed his cigarette. "I'll show you to the door."

You nodded stiffly and walked to the door. When you stopped at the hanger to get your coat, you found him closer than expected and your heart picked up.

"You like horses, don't you?" he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. You hated how cool he was about everything.

You nodded.

"You should come to the races once."

"Have you forgotten I go there for work sometimes?"

"Not for work."

Not again.

"It's not something I enjoy watching," you said shortly, then opened the door, anxious to leave that hallway that had never looked so small in your whole life.

"You might change your mind."

"I don't think I will," you insisted dryly, looking at him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message that you were talking about the whole situation.

You opened the door and he held it open for you. "It's not a no."

You were doing everything you could to avoid Tommy, and it was not working. On the contrary, he was everywhere. He would pass by your house every time you were leaving for work and he would offer to walk or drive you there. You refused every time. You would meet him as you were walking by the cut. You would see him at a pub he had never frequented before. You even saw him at the market a couple of times. When you saw him in church you thought you were hallucinating. It seemed like the universe was working against you, but it was only Tommy Shelby, and maybe his family.

John always found a way to mention him. He had never talked about Tommy as much as he had in the last few weeks. You pretended not to notice. You hoped Tommy would just give up at some point. How wrong you were.

You were surprised to find a little box on your desk at work on Monday. You looked around to see if any of your colleagues had noticed anything. They seemed to be minding their business as usual. You returned your attention to the box and opened it. A precious pocket watch was laid there, with a piece of paper. You picked up the note. You didn't recognize the handwriting. It read "counting the seconds to the moment you'll accept my offer."

You crushed the note in your fist and rolled your eyes, closing the box vehemently and shoving it in the only drawer in your desk that had a key. You locked it up. You thought you would deal with that later, but it was a busy day and you forgot until the next morning when something else was waiting for you on your desk.

It was your favourite book from when you were a kid. It was about horses. They were your favourite animals and obviously, Tommy somehow knew. You opened it and on the first page, with the same handwriting from yesterday's note, there was written "I think you'd really like to meet my horses. Think about it."

You heard one of your colleagues calling you, so you quickly closed the book and threw it into the drawer where you had left the watch.

That evening you went to the Shelbys, hoping to find Tommy and give him back his presents. When Ada opened the door, you walked past her hastily.

"Where is Thomas?" you asked looking for him around the house, startling the others, confused by your manners so out of character.

"He isn't back yet," Ada said, closing the door to follow you into the kitchen.

You let yourself fall down into a chair with a groan and discarded your hat on the table.

"Hello to you too," Polly piped up.

"Hi Pol, I'm sorry, but your nephew is trying to ruin me."

"Tommy?" Esme asked frowning. She wasn't a fan of him, but she was quite sure he would never do anything to ruin you.

"What are you talking about?" Polly asked taking a seat next to you.

"He is just being over dramatic." John waved a hand. You glared at him.

"Let him talk." Ada slapped his arm, making him roll his eyes. "What did Tommy do?"

You suddenly sobered up. You couldn't tell them. They wouldn't approve. You shook your head and got up. "It's nothing. I should just talk to him. I'm sure we can fix this."

"Where are you going? Stay for dinner." Polly stopped you gently.

Before you could refuse and leave, someone knocked.

Ada went to open the door.

"Hello, Ada." Thomas.

Ada was already telling him you were there looking for him when you walked up to him, hat in hand. He smiled smugly at you.

"Thought you would last longer," he commented.

You just looked at him as if you wanted to kill him.

Ada's eyes moved between the two of you.

"Would you mind leaving us, Ada?" Tommy asked, without taking his eyes away from you.

She rolled her eyes but did as she had been asked.

Once she was gone, you pulled the gifts out of your coat and shoved them into Tommy's chest. "You can take these back and leave me alone."

His hand raised slowly to take a hold of the items and he glanced down at them. "You didn't like them?"

"That's not the point. Stop fucking trying to ruin me. If I'm such a huge problem for you, why don't you pay my superior to transfer me somewhere else? Do you really hate me so much just because I'm not on your fucking payroll?"

He shook his head. "I'm not trying to ruin you."

"Really? Because sending me gifts at work tells me otherwise."

"I really am into you."

You scoffed. "Sure."

"What do I have to do to make you believe me?" his voice, quiet as usual, seemed to fill the entire house. Only then you realized the chatter that previously came from the kitchen had stopped. You glanced that way, then looked back at Tommy.

You lowered your voice. "If you care for me, stop this."

For the first time since you knew him, Tommy looked like he didn't know what to say.

You didn't wait for a reply. You just headed to the door, stopping in your tracks when Polly's voice came from the kitchen. "You're not staying for dinner?"

It was clear the others had listened in on your conversation.

You sighed. "Maybe next time."

You opened the door and stepped outside, putting your hat on.

Polly's interjection had given Tommy enough time to come up with something to say.

"Just give me one chance," he said quickly before you could leave. "We can go out of the city with the horses tomorrow afternoon. Nobody will see us. If after that you still want me to leave you alone, I will."

You turned to look at him and you hated yourself for being so weak.

"One chance. Then you will leave me alone."

The following day was nerve-wracking. No matter how you tried to distract yourself, you couldn't stop thinking about the date. The anxiety was eating at you. Part of you didn't want that afternoon to arrive, and another part was looking forward to it.

Time would not stop flowing for your sake, and soon you were making your way to meet with him out of the city. You asked the driver to drop you off way before the meeting point and walked the rest of the way.

Tommy was waiting for you with two horses. He smiled when he saw you, and you didn't know if it was knowing that this was the last chance you had given him or if that was actually the most genuine and happiest smile you had ever seen on his lips.

You smiled back. It was a very different smile from his. It was small and it had a hint of sadness to it. You wished this was real, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.

Without a word you got on the horses and guided them through the countryside. Sometimes Tommy would stop to show you something. He told you about his love for the countryside and that he would love to live there one day. He liked the idea of being surrounded by green fields and animals, especially horses, a passion the two of you shared. When you asked why he was so in love with the countryside, he explained that it made him feel closer to his mother. That was where her people lived and where she had grown up.

You hadn't realized, but at some point, you had relaxed. You and Tommy talked, joked, laughed and raced each other. Before you noticed the sun was setting. Tommy suggested you stopped to enjoy the view before heading back.

You got off the horses and sat down on the grass. You stayed silent for a while, simply admiring the colours of the sky. When you turned to look at Tommy, he was already watching you. You stared at each other for a few long moments before he cleared his voice and looked away.

"What's the verdict, then?" he finally asked, not looking at you.

"I had a good time with you," you admitted easily.

"But?"

"Is this really what you want? This life is... not great. So if you ever liked a girl in your life I suggest you go back to her and give it one more try."

"It's always been you and I know you are scared, but I sincerely don't give a fuck if you are a policeman or if you aren't on my payroll. We made arrangements to do our things when you're not on patrol just so you wouldn't have to arrest any of us. It wasn't much trouble. You are important to me, to all of us. I would never do anything to hurt you."

Your brain had gotten stuck on the first few words. "Always?"

"What?"

"You said it's always been me."

"Yes."

"Then why now?"

"Because I found out only recently that you like boys."

You frowned. "How did you find out?"

"I saw you with a man one night, in the alley behind the Garrison," he admitted.

"Oh... Right. So John didn't tell you."

"No, not a word. He would rather cut his own arm off than betray you."

"I know," you replied relaxing.

"But you thought he had told me."

"Maybe he had mentioned when he was drunk." You shrugged.

"I promise he didn't."

You nodded.

"I've had a crush on you for a while too," you said, still looking at him. You had long forgotten about the sunset. How could you look at something as trivial as the sun when you had Tommy Shelby right beside you?

"Yes?" he asked, hopeful.

You smiled and nodded. "It's impossible not falling for you."

He leaned closer but stopped a few inches away from your face. "I really want to kiss you right now."

"What are you waiting for, then?" was all that came out of your lips before they met his.

"Fucking finally Tommy, dinner was getting cold," Polly's voice came from the kitchen as you followed him inside the house that night.

"Sorry Pol," he replied taking little Finn in his arms and putting his cap on his youngest brother.

He reached for your hand with his free one after you had hung your coat. You took it, although nervously. He had assured you that his whole family knew about him and that they would accept you but after a lifetime of being careful about everything you did and said, you couldn't just stop.

Tommy kissed your temple, hoping that would help your nerves.

You smiled at him, then winked at Finn who grinned back.

Tommy led you to the kitchen. "We have a guest," he announced. Everyone turned to look at you, and your grip tightened on Tommy's hand. They all seemed surprised.

"But it's not S-" Arthur was cut off by John shoving his elbow into his brother's ribs.

That seemed enough to shake Polly out of her surprise. "Of course!" She hugged you smiling. "You're always welcome."

You felt your nervousness melt away and hugged her back. "Thanks, Pol."

She pulled back and turned to her nephew, pointing a finger at him. "If you hurt him, Thomas Shelby, I'll make you pay for it."

"What?! Why are you telling me?" he asked putting Finn down.

"Well, because he would never do anything bad," she replied without even thinking about it.

"Wait, aunt Pol. He is my best friend, I should be the one to give Tommy the talk."

Tommy shook his head. "This is absurd."

"Come on, I'm sure he is more than capable to look after himself."

You nodded quickly, agreeing with Ada.

"And I'm sure Tommy won't do anything he might regret unless he wants to have the whole family against him," she added crossing her arms and glaring at him.

You sighed and turned to look at your boyfriend. "Don't worry, I'll protect you from them."

Tags: @one-green-frog

Things that just make sense as the Yan!Batfamily's shared Darling.

A/N: slight smutty hc's at the end but so slight, Yandere shenanigans, shared Darling NOT EDITED

Alone time simply no longer exists, someone is constantly vying for your attention, even when you think you're alone one of them is lurking nearby

All of them are terrible with boundaries but Dick! is! the! worst!! First son means first dibbs in his brain, sure he may not have spotted you first or met you first but he makes damn sure to be your first in everything else he can.

I just love the idea of you being 21-23 around Damian's age and him being the one to befriend you initially, be it as a fellow student or an intern at Wayne Tech, he would notice you immediately and always have his eye on you from that point forward.

He holds it over the others heads forever, he genuinely wants them to get smart about something with him, way too quick to pull out the "I'm the reason we have her card." Which instantly shuts all of them up including Bruce.

He'd know you were their Darling before your first conversation, and when you two inevitably do speak and hit it off, it only furthers proves his initial thought- you were the one.

When you first come home and are, understandably freaked the fucked out, Bruce is the one to come in and calm you down, undoes your restraints with a tender hand, massages the sore areas with an apology, goes on to explain that you're safe and nothing would ever hurt you again.

Tim uses his big brain to trick you into thinking he's not as bad as the others.

He'd never chain you to the bed out of possession like Dick or beat a man's skull in for looking at you too long like Jason.

He wasn't as intense as Damian or controlling as Bruce. He was perfect for you.

If anyone of them ever overwhelmed you with their love Tim was the one you'd bury your face into, lucky him, you miss the evil little smile he shoots the rest of the family every time.

Jason is s lot like a shelter dog. On guard 24/7 and always ready for a threat, the only way to calm him down when he gets like this is to pull him into your chest and let him melt into you for a few hours.

Dick takes you to the roof to watch the stars, he's a pro at this by now and always makes you feel safe. He likes to sit with his back against the wall of the roof, knees spread on the side of your huddled body as you say on his lap. You'd be in a pair of his sweats and an old hoodie, surrounded entirely by him, just the way he liked it.

Your birthday is a warzone, fistfights have broken out about who gave the best gift.

If Jason is in his city girl era he will leave a bloody heart on the wall at every one of his fights for you. A little J+(Y) in the middle to really seal the cheesy deal.

Bruce hires you as an assistant for three reasons.

1. You were complaining about being bored while they went about their day jobs and he loved the cute way you'd brighten whenever he got you what you wanted.

2. He knew he'd gain some huge brownie points

3. He got an excuse to see you more than the boys and you wore a tight little Secretary outfit while he did.

Plus he loves the idea of taking you against his desk while on the phone with some nobody shareholders, trying so so hard to keep his voice level while you're twitching and creaming around him.

Damian would read with you in the garden, your days with him would be softer than you'd imagine, comfortable silences and moonlit dancing, he's a true romantic at heart.

Tim loves everything you do, he makes it a mission to be a like you as possible, so much so now whenever you wanna indulge in one of your favorite activities he's the first person you think of, he's got you trained well.

There's a schedule made to adequately divide your time amongst them, of course you know nothing about it, but they'll hold meetings in the cave to talk about you, how you're adjusting, if they have any gripes or complaints- this is when they're aired out.

They know their love language is illegal unconventional in societies eyes so they account for it, in public you're their fathers loyal assistant, they'll allow themselves to be photographed with random women to keep suspicions off the true nature of your relationship.

And if you're thinking "hm I bet I could use that against them. Maybe say they couldn't love me as they claim if they're sleeping around" Don't. You'd be getting that poor random woman eviscerated.

I hear you asking "Surely Batman wouldn't break his sacred rule for a Darling." And you're right, he wouldn't.

But Jason would.

And all of a sudden Batman doesn't find it so hard to look the other way, so long as he gets to look at your pretty face while he does it.

You get fucked in the Batmobile at some point

Tommy Shelby wanting to get you pregnant would include...

Requested by anon

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: breeding kink, swearing, smut

It all comes out of the blue really

Some fella had tried chatting you up at the pub, not realising whose wife you were, and that night, tommy had slammed you up against the shut bedroom door, pressing needy , sloppy kisses to your lips

You loved him like this- having him utterly desperate for you made you feel so powerful, having Tommy Shelby practically on his knees for you

Such feelings of power were very quickly demolished as he pulled you away from the door and towards the bed, pushing you down on the bed, his broad thighs on either side of you as he pinned your arms above your head

“You’re fucking mine, YN,” he grumbled, his voice harsh though not with anger.

You could tell by the stormy spark in his eyes that he was brimming with protective possessiveness, feathers clearly ruffled by the stranger’s drunken flirting.

You tease him about this (of course) rolling your eyes playfully, though he quickly shut you up by pressing open mouthed kisses to your throat, tongue tracing your pulse point before he left a small but dark mark.

The first of many

Eventually he ends up on his back, shirtless and stripped down to his underwear as you straddle him, stark naked but for the string of pearls around your neck, hanging most temptingly between your breasts

Tommy can’t resist, his hands that are resting on your waist trailing up to palm your breasts and pinch your nipples, tugging you down to mark your chest. You whine, rocking your hips and- holy fuck- he can feel your arousal on his shaft even through his underwear

“‘M yours, Tom,” you breathe, fingers curled tightly in his cropped hair. “All yours. Fill me up and prove it,”

He growls, and it’s almost primal, the sound making your innermost walls flutter with anticipation as he rolls you onto your back

“Want me to fill you up, Ay?” He groaned into your neck before squeezing your cheeks together and kissing your lips. “Want me to fill you with my cum until you’re full of my child?”

Your eyes roll back under the intensity of his gaze and you nod, desperately, trying to buck your hips up for something, anything

He nods, kissing you sweetly, before lining up with you

His thrusts are slow at first, and your eyes lock as he fucks you tenderly, gasping out and grasping onto any inch of one another

When you wrap your legs tight around his waist and rock your hips up to meet his, his slow pace goes right out the window (much to your satisfaction) and he fucks you with reckless abandon, holding you up against his chest as he pounds into you, his fingers digging bruises into your flesh

The first wave of your orgasm sends him over the edge and he stills, digging his nails into your shoulders as he pumps your womb full of his come, kissing your neck and cheek as you settle down from your highs

Over the next few weeks, you and Tommy fuck a LOT, discovering that the previous incident wasn’t just a result of tommy being jealous- you both want to at least try to start your family

Several months later, Tommy is thrilled to see his wife’s body swell with his baby, and his love of watching your pregnancy progress is very convenient, especially when your hormones kick in...

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Pregnancy Headcanons: Tommy Shelby

He stares at you for a solid minute after you tell him

“Fucking say something then?” You say rolling your eyes

He sets down his pen (you definitely told him in the office, just saying) and his face just breaks out into this GRIN

He’s utterly thrilled, and insists on taking you out to a posh restaurant that night

Long after you’ve fallen asleep however, he’s staring at the ceiling, mulling over everything. How you and your baby could be used against him... what if someone hurts you? It’ll be his fault if they do, whether or not he’s there

He rolls over, tugging you close and pressing his hands protectively against your belly, silently vowing to protect you and the baby no matter what

For the first few months you go about your relationship as normal- joking, fucking, staying up and out late (though you stay off the drink for the baby)

When you start to show properly, and after the doctor’s heard the heartbeat, he becomes much more protective- much to your dismay

“Tommy, I am crawling the walls in that house! You can’t keep me bundled up there for the next five months!”

He begrudgingly agrees, though whenever you go out to the market or the cafe, you get the feeling you’re being watched, and your suspicions are confirmed each time when a different blinder tips his cap to you in the street

Tommy tries to make time, he really does, and you appreciate it, even when he is called away in the dead of night or the crack of dawn

“I’ll be back later, darling, I promise. Take care of yourself, and the little one,” he murmurs each time, kissing your cheek

You often wake in the middle of the night to him slipping into bed in just his underwear, wrapping his arms around you

When the baby first starts to kick, you squeal, and he RUNS across the house, thinking you’re hurt

“Bloody hell, YN,” he says, though he grins like a madman as you beckon him over to feel your tummy

The novelty soon wears off- at 3 in the morning.

You groan, sitting up, patting your belly gently to soothe your wriggling child.

Tommy, a light sleeper when he’s sober, sits up, thinking there’s something wrong, and grins when you explain

He then lays you down and shimmies so his mouth is level with your swollen belly

He puts on his business face, the sort he makes when sealing a massive deal or threatening to end someone’s bloodline

“Oi. Stop kicking your mother, Ay? Let her sleep. That’s my wife you’re kicking, you little rascal,”

You love moments like this

Tommy talks to the bump quite a lot, and you love it, sitting reading and stroking his cropped hair, or lolling, half asleep as he tries to get the baby to settle so you can rest

As you near your due date, he grows more and more tetchy, every uncomfortable groan or gasp making him sit bolt upright, even if you’re just moaning about your ankles

Your waters break in the middle of the night and he FREAKS OUT

Not in front of you though, never in front of you

Instead he calmly kisses your forehead and tells you he’ll be back soon while he calls for the midwife.

And Polly.

And Ada.

And his brothers.

And Johnny Dogs

And uncle Charlie

He refuses to drink while you’re upstairs with the women, screaming and cursing tommy and his balls

“If he comes near me again, Polly, I will cut his cock off! I’m never sleeping with him again!”

He pales considerably at this

While he doesn’t drink, he chain smokes, getting through far too many ciggies as your cries echoe through the house

He PACES- it’s a wonder there’s not a dip in the floorboards

When, finally, a high pitched baby’s cry is heard, he freezes, turning to his kin slowly, cigarette forgotten in his fingers

“Fuck.” He says, eyes wide. “I’m a fucking dad,”

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Kinktober Day 9: Pregnancy Sex

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

He hadn’t touched you in weeks. Months.

It was as if as soon as Polly grabbed your tit and told you you’d be having a dark haired son by Guy Fawkes Night, Tommy had taken a vow of celibacy.

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you anymore, or find you any less attractive; he held your hair back when you were sick in the mornings, hand fed you bits of fruit dipped in condensed milk that you had been craving, spent ages hugging you from behind with his hands rubbing your growing bump.

At five months pregnant, you were beginning to find the lack of intimacy extremely difficult. Once you had gotten over the worst of the morning sickness and tearfulness, your hormones were wreaking havoc on you. You had spoken to esme, who had spent a fair amount of time pregnant with John’s sprogs if she ever felt the same and she had simply smirked at you. “John gets turned on when I’m pregnant. And I can’t say I’m complaining,” she shrugged.

That night, Thomas was, of course, working in his study. You slinked in, slipping into his lap. Instantly, the glass of whiskey was down and his hand was rubbing your swollen belly. “YN, what’s wrong? Is it the baby?” He asked, looking up at you with his brows knitted together. “Should I get a doctor?” You smiled softly, putting your hand over his.

“It is something to do with that, yeah. But you don’t need to call a doctor. I don’t think he’d be able to fix what’s going on with me,” as you spoke, you ducked down to kiss at Tommy’s neck, your tongue flickering over his pulse point the way you knew sent him wild. His breath shuddered and the hand on your tummy slipped to your hip.

“YN... we can’t... it’ll hurt the baby,” he groaned lowly, though the twitching in his trousers did little to convince either of you that he wasn’t up for it.

You pulled away and looked down at him. “So that’s what this has been all about eh? I’ve been sat here flooding my knickers, wanting to jump you every time you walked in the room for five months, all because you’re scared of hurting the baby?” You grinned, kissing him gently. “Esme said it’s fine, Tom. Won’t hurt the baby unless we really overdo it,” you stroked his sharp cheekbone with your thumb, biting your lip.

Tommy shook his head fondly. “Well then, Mrs Shelby,” he grinned. “It appears I was wrong. C’mon then... let’s get you upstairs,”

“You could just fuck me in your office?” You smirked, biting your lip.

“Absolutely not. I intend to enjoy you tonight, for as long as you want,” you moaned softly, nodding eagerly.

“Come on then,” you begged, already feeling your arousal seep between your thighs. Tommy grinned, following you upstairs. As soon as the bedroom door was shut, his lips were on yours, kissing you with a heat you hadn’t felt in months. You gasped out, clutching at his hair, his neck, his arms, your entire being throbbing with need as you kissed, your breath coming in heavy pants. “Need you, Tom,” you groaned as he dragged his teeth over your throat. He grunted in response, pushing you back towards the bed, standing between your legs as he undid his waistcoat.

“Christ, YN,” he groaned. “You’ve no idea how riled up I’ve been... watching your belly grow with my baby...” your eyes fluttered shut at his words and you arched your back. “Watching your pretty tits swell with milk... shame I can’t put another baby into you... I’d happily watch you like this every day of my life...”

You whimpered, pushing your breasts into his wandering hands, biting your lip hard. “Tommy...” you sighed. “Please...” you pushed his shirt off him, yours hands rubbing over his hard chest. He rubbed your sensitive breasts and you gasped, spreading your legs wider, needing to feel him pressed between your thighs, although your growing bump made this more difficult than normal. You huffed with frustration and tommy laughed, kissing you gently.

“I bet you’re soaking,” he grinned and you moaned lewdly, already hoisting your dress up, desperate to eliminate every scrap of fabric between you and your husband. Sensing your desperation, Tommy helped, lifting your dress over your head and tossing it aside, groaning at the sight of your body in your loose underwear. “Christ,” he cursed, seeing the wet patch on the gusset of your knickers, stroking his knuckle slowly over it, circling your clit ever so lightly. You let out a little cry, already writhing. Tommy grinned and eased your knickers and stockings down as you unhooked your bra, slinging it aside. Tommy kept his eyes on you as you kneeled up, shucking off his trousers quickly, kicking them aside. “I could devour you,” he groaned. “I haven’t tasted you in so long,”

It was your turn to smirk as Tommy Shelby crumbled in front of your eyes. “Nobody’s fault but your own, tommy,” you teased. He smirked reaching a hand between you to pinch your clit. Your eyes flew open, hands gripping his biceps as you let out a little scream. “Don’t tease!” You begged and tommy tutted.

“Hypocrite,” he smirked, brushing his thumbs over your clit and nipple in tandem. You whined softly, circling your hips as you bit his shoulder and began pumping his prick. “Fucking hell...” he cursed under his breath. “YN...” he moaned, head tilting. You smirked and pushed him onto his back, biting your lip as you looked down at him. With some careful manoeuvring, you were straddling his hips, hovering above his cock. Slowly, you lowered yourself, your jaw falling open as he stretched you out. Moaning lewdly, you seated yourself fully on his cock, your innermost walls already fluttering around him as you re-familiarised yourself with him. Below you, Tommy’s eyes were locked on you as he let out a low groan. He wanted nothing more than to flip you over and pound you into the mattress, but there was still a worry in the back of his mind of hurting you or your baby. His hands roamed your thighs, your buttocks, your hips... your thickening waist, up over your swelling belly to squeeze at your nipples, making you gasp as you began rocking your hips, grinding down on him as you braced your hands on his thighs.

“Fuck... I’ve missed this,” you groaned and tommy let out a breathless laugh in agreement.

“C’mon, YN... ride my cock, love...” he coaxed and you bit your lip, leaning forward as far as you could, pressing your lips to his as you began bouncing your hips, whimpering into his mouth as you felt him stimulate you in places that hadn’t been touched in months. “So good to me, YN,” he mumbled against your mouth. “So fucking good. So beautiful like this...” you moaned out, tipping your head back as your movements became sloppy. Tommy grinned, moving to swipe his thumb over your throbbing clit. You cried out, jolting, demanding he rub your clit again and again until you were coming hard, dragging Tommy over the edge with you. He let out a harsh shout as he came, filling you up and thrusting up eagerly as your own movements slowed down.

“Christ,” you said breathlessly, dismounting him and snuggling into his side still panting as he stared at the ceiling, clearly still recovering, chest rising and falling and a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his skin. You smiled softly at him, and once you were sure you could trust your legs, you slipped from the bed to wash his seed from between your thighs and fetch some water. He sat up on his elbows, frowning.

“Where the fuck are you going?” He asked pouting. “I’m not done with you yet,”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “I’ll only be gone a minute. Your child is currently playing football with my bladder,” you said, pulling your robe around you.

Tommy smiled softly as you pottered around to the bathroom, for the first time in a long while calm and satisfied. “Best had he only a minute, Mrs Shelby. We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,”

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