#prostitute!reader

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.”

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag List: @lucien-calore, @zebralover

#ailesswhumptober2023 #fic #whumptober #the job #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #f!reader #prostitute!reader #soft smut #steamy #angst #whump #prostitution tw #steamy tw #nudity tw #vomiting tw #shock tw #language tw

[bucknastysbabe]

OKOK SO YOU WOULD WRITE FOR VISERYS THE SLUT I HAVE FOUND MY PEOPLE

THIS MAN SCREAMS MOMMY ISSUES I WANT TO PEG HIM SO MUCH THAT HE CRIES OUT OF PLEASURE BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT TO PRAISE HIM AND BABY HIM💀😭

So I def went the praise and baby route. With tears OF COURSE. I kinda liked his pathetic ass besides fucking w/ my KHALEESI. I loved writing this— thanks for the ask lovely anon. I PRESENT TO YOU 🥁🥁🥁 ANOTHER TARGARYEN WITH SEVERE MOMMY ISSUES💥

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,236

Tags: MOMMY KINK, tit sucking, pussy jobs and the like, Viserys rude ass inner dialogue, prostitution, man tears, hyperspemia, no kissing sorry he’s a weirdo

Unwind

Viserys sprawled on the plush bed, the ever present grim look on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smile. Maybe before the Golden Company laughed in his face after the Prince, King truly, feasted them in hopes of gaining allegiance to take back his birthright.

He and Daenerys were staying in Lys, under a powerful Magister. They’d throw them out before long, so Viserys would take his pleasures while possible. Maybe, just maybe, someone would see him as the King he was. The rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, not that usurper. Viserys promised the Magister the Stepstones in exchange for the crown.

He was waiting on one of the famed Lyseni whores to come to his lush quarters. Requested pale silver-gold hair and violet eyes. Certainly not a ringer for Dany. It ached his soul to think about the idiotic sister of his. But he loved her. Stupid fragile thing.

He palmed his cock, ready for some sort of release, lilac eyes flickering to the door. A soft rap echoed on the gold painted door. Viserys straightened up, sweeping loose curls behind his ear. The whore slunk in with a bow, thick curls of the beaten silver-gold cascading down. She had a sultry voice, simpering, “Your grace.”

He commanded, “Come here girl.”

“Yes, your grace,” she purred.

The pillow girl wore a gauzy purple dress, plush hips and full tits bare underneath. She swayed to the end of the bed, lifting a leg to crawl up before Viserys growled, “I didn’t say you could join me. Kneel on the floor.” Her face was placid but he could see the infuriating little smirk on glossed bee-stung lips.

“Yes my lord.”

Viserys crept to the end of the bed, spreading his long legs on each side of the kneeling whore. Her wide violet eyes peered up at him, long dark lashes framing the orbs. That little tilt of the other blonde’s lips was causing anger to flare in his chest. Viserys snapped, “What’s so entertaining little slut?”

She laughed, a melodic tinkle, eyes flashing in mirth. The Lysene crooned, “The Magister Myrmorro wanted me to relax you. Says you’re too uptight.” Before Viserys could boil over in anger she urged, “Let me take care of you. A good report back to Myrmorro could help your cause, my lord.”

The beggar prince’s jaw ticked, fighting the dragon back to sleep in his chest. He needed to make an impression. If the pretty whore in front of him could help Viserys would have to regretfully obey. He sold his fucking mother’s crown after all. What else was there besides his body, little Dany, and desperate promises.

Viserys grabbed a thick lock of tight pale curls, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. He rasped, “What do you suggest then?” Her lips widened into a grin, hands sliding up Viserys skinny thighs. He raised a brow, tugging to get a quicker answer. She hummed, “Let me take over and you’ll see stars, my king.”

King. He liked that. His cock liked that too.

“Fine then. Work your whore magic.”

She stood up, untying a pouch to her side that Viserys hadn’t seen before. He must have been too invested in her heavy tits. She husked out, a devious look in her eyes, “Would you like me to undress you, my King?” Viserys snapped, “Of course. What did you expect?”

She placed the pouch on a chest and climbed onto the bed, sliding off her gauzy excuse for a dress. Viserys eyes were drawn to her peaked pink nipples, the heavy droop of flesh, marks from growing too fast on the side. His cock throbbed painfully.

She demurred, “Want a taste? Let me get you naked first.”

Viserys somehow was pushed back, elbows cushioning his fall as the woman untied and pulled at his silks and wool, emblazoned with the red dragon of his family. All he could do was stare at her swaying breasts, mouth growing wet. The almost-king couldn’t explain his desire but wanted it so, so, so, bad.

“Lift,” she ordered.

Viserys lifted his hips for her to shuck down his woolen breeches. The boots had already been discarded earlier and his tunic must have been removed in the Valyrian’s trance on the whore’s chest. His cock lay on his pale belly, already flushed a deep red and dribbling pearls of white.

Her blonde curls shifted and shined while she climbed atop his hips. The wetness of her cunt shifted against Viserys own desire, making him whimper. He tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat but the damage was done, she chuckled at him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted snarled.

“I think you’re endearing,” she caressed his thin hip, “Would you like to suck my tits now, pretty baby?”

Pretty baby.

“Please,” he whispered.

She wrapped lean arms around his shoulders and shoved creamy tits forward. Viserys made a broken noise— overwhelmed on where to even begin. The Lysene thumbed one of his sharp cheekbones cooing, “How about the left? Poor little dragon. I’ll take care of you.”

He wanted that so bad. Viserys had to always fend for him and Dany. Couldn’t relax. If he could just get the throne and servants to indulge his every whim. This was close enough. The Targaryen sealed his lips around a pink nipple and suckled eagerly, hands coming up to paw at the abundant flesh on her chest.

She cooed and writhed against his weeping cock. “That’s so good, get your fill sweet boy.” Viserys whined, sucked, and licked eagerly. He whimpered at the soft feeling of her heavy teats.

His balls suddenly felt very full and achy, sensitive to the point that it hurt.

“M-mummy,” he whimpered, totally lost to the desire clouding his mind.

“Yes baby boy, my sweet boy, suck all you want,” she replied while carding manicured hands through his loose flaxen waves. The angel rubbed her slick pussy against his need, coating it in sweet warmth. Viserys gasped as he pulled back, both hands on her bountiful chest.

He dove onto the right nipple, neglected and ready for the taking. He thumbed at the other one, delightfully slick and puffy from his ministrations. The Lysene moaned softly, encouraging him even more. Claiming his rightful rule to the throne, how strong and smart her king was.

Viserys shuddered and cried around a peaked bud, “O-oh gods, mummy, please! Don’t stop.”

He mewled and sniveled, shoving his face between her pillowy teats. All Viserys could do was rut and chant, “Mummy, mummy, mummy, mmh!” She rolled her hips along his length in smooth glides. Viserys wailed in ecstasy, his overfull balls drawing up painfully.

She moaned, “That’s it, c’mon my baby, cum all over mommy. Make mommy proud.”

“I-I-I will! Oh fuck! Ah- mmh- cumming so hard for you mummy,” he cried. Viserys spasmed and shook with hefty sobs as he came and came and came. It almost hurt how much he painted her cunt and his lap. The beggar king clung to mu-the whore and sucked in air. Roughly, as he couldn’t be bothered to remove himself from her tits.

The woman murmured, “So good baby boy, bet you feel so good. You were full, my my. Just relax and let mommy hold you now.” With another pitiful whine, Viserys did so, just forgetting the stress of the cruel world for once.

#got smut #mommy kink #viserys iii targaryen #viserys iii targaryen x reader #prostitute!reader #asks open #anon ask #answered ask

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Job (Part 2)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 2. Exhaustion, 8. Panic Attack, 18. Vomiting, 21. Shock, Alt 6. Crying to Sleep Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: After being forced to witness the bloodbath at the stables, you are left shaken to the core. So when Tommy comes to visit you a few days later, you demand answers leading to a revolution you never expected. Word Count: 4266 TW: Steamy Situations/Soft Smut, Non-Sexual Nudity, Shock, Trauma, Vomiting, Tears, Mentions of Prostitution, Smoking, Language Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and helped me perfect this part, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

As you hurried from the stable and the nightmare within, you saw Arthur, John, and a handful of others you recognized as Peaky Blinders pulling up out front. No one looked at you directly as they climbed out of their cars—Arthur the only one to even acknowledge you with a small nod—before silently heading into the stables and drawing their pistols. You increased your pace but you were still within earshot when the cacophony of gunfire sounded behind you. Even though it was too late, you pressed your hands over your ears as you fled down the street, tears blurring your vision as you went. 

Yet no matter how quickly you ran nor how much distance you put between yourself and the bloody massacre you had just escaped from, you felt as if you were still there. Trembling behind the hay bales as the world exploded in blood around you. It was the stuff of nightmares you had heard about in whispers behind closed doors, but the reality of experiencing it first-hand was far more horrifying than you could ever have imagined.

After what seemed like an eternity, you finally stumbled up the front steps of your lodging. Your hands were trembling so badly that it took you three tries to finally get the key in the lock to open the door and, once inside, you rushed quickly to your room. 

Despite it being the middle of summer, you were shivering uncontrollably and there was a chill deep in your bones. After much trouble, you got a fire started in your fireplace and you huddled next to it as closely as you could stand. And yet, the chill persisted. 

Looking down, you saw that small flecks of blood had landed on your new dress and you immediately ripped it off and threw it into the fire. Even if it could have been cleaned, the events of the night had stained the dress in ways that could never be washed off. You would never be able to forget what you witnessed no matter how hard you tried—you didn’t need a reminder of it hanging in your wardrobe as well. 

Standing before the fireplace in only your undergarments, you watched as the once beautiful gown blackened and burned, slowly falling apart as it turned to ash. You wished there was a way to rid yourself of your memories as easily as you had the dress. The sounds of the screams, the metallic bite of blood in the air, the way Tommy’s blue eyes peered at you from a face stained red. All building up to the thunderous booms of gunfire as you fled the stable.

And it was all your fault. 

You had led those men to their deaths. Even if Tommy hadn’t explicitly told you what was to happen once you lured them to the stable, you should have realized what he planned to do. You knew his reputation for dealing with threats to his empire and yet, you had agreed to do what he wished with only the slightest of hesitations. If not for you, those men would be home with their wives or children at the moment instead of lying in a heap in an empty stable waiting for a handful of Peaky Blinders to come to dispose of their bodies.

That thought was the final straw. You dropped to your knees as you emptied the contents of your stomach across your floor. Over and over you retched, even past the point of having anything left in your stomach to expel. Every time you thought the nausea had settled, the memory of the blood-soaked stable would flash in your mind and you would gag once more.

Finally, once your body physically could not take anymore, you rolled over and curled up next to the fire. With tears streaming down your face and a weak whimpering in your burning throat, you slipped into unconsciousness only to find the horrors of the night were waiting to torment you there as well.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. At first, you tried to push what had happened to the back of your mind and move on as you attempted to continue about your days as normal. However, that was much easier said than done. The feeling of nausea failed to leave you and all you could manage to hold down was broth or a little bread. 

After the initial horror of the experience settled a little in your mind, you realized it wasn’t even the fact that all those men died that was really bothering you. Yes, the taking of any life was a tragedy but they were gang members who voluntarily chose this life. They knew the dangers involved with it and the potential consequences. And it wasn’t as if you weren’t used to witnessing violence after spending your entire life in Birmingham. It was just a way of life here.

No. What was really making you sick to your stomach was Tommy and how he had involved you in his feud. You were used to him using your body on a weekly basis—you gladly offered it up—but this? This was something completely different.  

He had made you an unwilling, unknowing accomplice to his dastardly deed. Then he had forced you to stand there and witness every last horrifying second of it. The image of his pale blue eyes boring into you from a crimson-drenched face, his outstretched finger pinning you in place from across the room, was burned into your soul. 

Why had he forced you to stay? You had done everything he had asked of you, so why did he want to punish you so? Why did he feel the need to curse you with these images that would haunt you for the rest of your life?

The dread in your chest only grew stronger with each passing day as Tommy’s scheduled visit approached. Wednesday simultaneously came too quickly and seemed to take an eternity to arrive. 

Usually just before he was set to appear, you would put on your finest dressing gown and style your hair just the way you knew he preferred. Then you would wait by the entrance with a cigarette and a glass of whiskey ready for him. However, this time when Thomas Shelby walked through your door, you were seated on the edge of your bed in a simple shift dress that laced up the front. As he entered, your shoulders folded in on themselves as you shrank slightly away from him. Hesitantly, you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eyes. 

If he noticed anything was different, Tommy did not address it. He simply strolled over to the table, took off his coat, and began unbuckling his belt as he asked, “Shall we get to it then?”

You made no move to stand or begin removing your clothes. Instead, you wrapped your arms across your chest, and with a slight quiver in your voice, you whispered, “H-how can you just walk in here as if nothing happened? As if this were just any other Wednesday and nothing has changed?"

He paused as he pursed his lips and gave a slight shrug. "Nothing has changed. I'm here for your services just as I am every week."

"Tommy, I watched you murder an entire room full of men right before my eyes. And I-I helped you do it. I mean, I know I agreed to help you but you never told me I would be leading them to you like lambs to the slaughter.”

His icy blue eyes took on an extra chill as he took a few steps towards you. With a slight bite to his words, he said, “You are neither foolish nor naive. You knew what would happen once you got to the stable.”

“I thought you would talk to them! Give them a warning, maybe send a message! Yes, I knew violence would probably be involved but I didn’t expect you to massacre every single one of them!”

A cunning, almost bordering on cruel, smile spread across his face. “Oh, but I was sending a message. Now anyone else out there who thinks they can fuck with the Peaky Blinders will see what will happen if they come for us.”

“But why did you have to involve me? What did I do to displease you to the point you would—” Tommy’s face dropped as the first tears spilled from your eyes and you took a wet, shaky breath, looking to the ceiling as you blinked rapidly and tried to maintain your composure. You had to know. This question had been haunting you almost as much as what you had witnessed. “I haven't been able to eat or sleep since that night. I feel as if I’m going mad. Every time I close my eyes all I can see is blood and I hear the howls of pain as those men died. Tommy, I have to know why you made me stay. What was the point? I tried to leave but you….Why did you make me witness that?”

For a moment, the room was still as the suffocating silence filled the room. Why wasn’t he answering your question? Maybe he didn’t have an answer. Maybe it had been a spur-of-the-moment decision in the heat of battle. Maybe to him, it meant nothing at al—

“You had to stay because I needed you to see the man I truly am.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face as you looked at him directly for the first time, your brow furrowed in astonishment. “W-what?”

Reaching into his pocket, Tommy pulled out a cigarette. However, unlike usual, he didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers thoughtfully. Then he tapped the end on the table before looking back at you. “The last time I was here you spoke of the Peaky Blinders as if I was not part of them. As if I was not the one in charge of them. Just because I don’t talk about that business with you does not mean it isn’t my life. That I am not as guilty if not more of their ‘transgressions’ as you put it. And I needed to remind you of that.”

“I have never had any misconceptions of who you are or what you do. Even before the first time you came to me, I knew the name Thomas Shelby and I knew the stories. And though the man I have come to know here in this room is far different from what I expected from those stories, they were never far from my mind.”

“But knowing and seeing are two very different things, eh?” Tommy asked. “You think I haven’t noticed the way you are keeping your distance? The way you are too afraid to even look at me directly?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Tommy.”

“Is that right?” He placed his cigarette down on the table and began slowly strolling over to the bed. “Then if it isn’t fear, what is it? Disgust? Loathing? What is it that you see when you look at me now?” He stopped as he reached the foot of the bed. 

Shaking your head, you said, “Tommy, please—”

He stepped closer until he was less than an arm's length in front of you. You dropped your eyes to the floor as he towered over you. 

“Look at me.” When you continued to avoid his gaze, he firmly grabbed your chin between his fingers and forced your head up so you had no choice but to look into his startling blue eyes. “Look at me! And tell me what you see.” You opened your mouth to speak, but he added, “The truth.”

Trembling, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, “I… I see a man capable of unspeakable horrors. One who has washed in the blood of other men, and will readily do so again.”

Tommy stared back at you without the slightest reaction to your words. Then he nodded softly and released your chin. You slid closer to the head of the bed and wrapped your arms around yourself as he turned. Silently, he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and began to put it on. 

However, you weren’t ready for him to leave. Maybe it was his explanation and reasoning as to his actions or maybe it was the idea that if you let him walk out that door you may never see him again, but something deep inside you had shifted as you answered his question. What you had said was your honest answer, but the truth was so much more complicated than that. And you couldn’t let him leave without hearing the rest of your response.

Taking a deep breath, you stood off the bed, walked over to him, and placed your hand on his forearm. He paused, one brow raised as he waited for you to explain your action.

Wetting your lips, you softly said, “But I also see a man who only does these things for the sake of his family and their interests.” Tommy’s face remained emotionless, but you felt some of the tension ease out of him under your touch so you continued. 

“I don’t think I can ever support your actions that night and it still makes me sick that you made me a part of it and then forced me to watch. You should have at least warned me or let me leave because I didn’t need the lesson you tried to teach me. I hate what you did, but I understand why it was necessary. And as much as I’m loath to admit it…. There is a sort of honor in it. Those men posed a threat to the lives of every member of the Peaky Blinders as well as their loved ones. And you shed their blood so the blood of your people wouldn’t be.” 

Your hand slowly trailed up his arm and across his chest until it rested just over his heart. Feeling it drumming steadily against your palm, you softly added, “The Peaky Blinders are lucky to have someone like you watching out for them.”

As usual, Tommy maintained his mask of indifference, but not even he could control his heart. You felt it jump underneath your hand as the drumming began to pick up its tempo. He blinked, long and slow, before gazing at you once more and it seemed as if some of the ice in his eyes had melted ever so slightly. 

He placed his palm over top of where your hand still lay on his chest. “I hope you know that you are one of the people under my protection. I swore I would never let any harm befall you, even that by my own hand.” His other hand reached up to cup your face, his thumb gently tracing the dark bags that had formed this past week under your eyes. “And yet it seems that is exactly what I did. I thought by making you see me for who I really am I would be protecting you. But I was so blinded by that thought I did not see the hurt I would cause instead. I am truly sorry.”

You were utterly speechless. As long as you had known him, you had never once heard Tommy admit fault or apologize for any of his actions. He only ever brushed off these incidents and changed the subject, but for him to tell you he was sorry? He must honestly regret his poor decision.

“I-I forgive you,” you whispered, your eyes fluttering as his thumb continued to caress your face. “Just don’t ever put me in a situation like that again. Please.”

“I promise.” His hand slid down your cheek slightly until his fingers brushed against your lips. “Shall we seal it with a kiss?”

Faintly, you nodded, your head spinning with anticipation for what was to come. Tommy bent over until his lips lightly grazed yours, the feeling no more than a whisper. For a moment, your heart dropped in disappointment and you figured you had misread the situation. However, when Tommy’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck and he pulled you into him, the kiss became something else entirely. 

You sometimes kissed Tommy during your weekly appointments but even then, at the peak of pleasure, it never felt like this. Now, there was a heat, an urgency, a need behind his lips that made your knees grow weak. It was something you had never experienced with any man, let alone Tommy.  But the fact that it was him kissing you like this made everything more intense and overwhelming in the best way. You never wanted it to stop.

As you began kissing him back with the same intensity, Tommy’s hands came to rest on your hips and he guided you over to the table. Dropping into one of the chairs, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs spread on either side of his waist. You could feel him already hardening in his slacks and you wrapped your legs around his hips to draw yourself in even closer. 

He buried his face in your hair, his long eyelashes fluttering against the edge of your face for a moment until he turned his head. Slowly, his lips slipped across your jaw, breathing ghostlike kisses in their wake as his mouth traveled along the curve of your throat. When he reached your shoulder, he bit down lightly. This drew a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips and you felt him buck against you in response. 

Yet before his mouth could dip any lower, you tilted his chin so you could see his face. 

His usually pale blue eyes had darkened with lust and the hunger you saw there made you ache deep within your core. This was a different side to Tommy, a side that you had never seen before. While your time together was always pleasurable, you were providing him a service and that was always apparent in his actions. But now…it felt about you just as much as about him. It felt like something deeper than just his regular weekly appointment. Yet before you lost yourself completely to him, before you let yourself believe it could be more, you had to know for sure.

Holding your breath, you murmured, “What is this, Tommy? Business or pleasure?”

Brushing his fingers across your cheek, he responds in a low, husky whisper. “For me, it stopped being business long ago.”

A brilliant smile spread across your face as you surged forward to recapture his lips. Kissing you back with the same fervor, he stood, his strong arms supporting you so you remained wrapped around his waist, and carried you over to your bed. Without breaking your kiss, he laid you down and settled above you. 

Your eyes drifted shut and you could feel his nimble fingers begin fiddling with the laces across the front of your dress, even as his tongue slid past your lips. You arched your back to allow him easier access to the ties as the aching between your legs intensified. But after a moment, he froze and then suddenly pulled back. At first, you were worried you did something wrong, but as you opened your eyes, you saw all of his concentration had shifted to the laces still perfectly fastened in place.

As he continued his futile attempt to untie your dress, he cursed softly and muttered, “Damn you woman for wearing this infernal thing."

Leaning forward, you smiled into his neck before teasing, your lips brushing across his skin, “Come now, Tommy. One might think you’d never undressed a woman before.”

He paused, his head tilting until he locked eyes with you. Then, without breaking eye contact, he curled his fingers into the fabric of your bodice and gave a firm pull, causing the dress to rip open down to your waist. You let out a gasp of surprise but Tommy swallowed the sound as his mouth found yours once again.

With your legs still encircling his waist, you pulled him in closer until his hips were flush with yours and you could feel him straining for release against your clothed core. Slowly, you began rolling your hips to rub against him and you were rewarded with a deep rumble deep within his chest. 

“Not so fast, you little minx,” Tommy growled, nipping at your lip. “There’s no rush tonight. You wanted to know what this was between us? Well, I’m going to show you. Over and over and over, until you never again doubt that this is all about pleasure.” A soft shudder of pleasure shivered down your spine at his words and he smiled. “Now, let me watch you take off what’s left of that dress then our night can begin.”

You had serviced Thomas Shelby more times than you could count. But that night became the first time you and Tommy made love….over and over and over and over, just like he promised. 

Remarkably, you slept like a babe that night—the first real sleep you had had since the night in the stable. Even though you hadn’t opened your eyes yet, you could tell you had slept through the rest of the evening and well into the next morning by the warmth of the sun trickling in through your window onto the bed. The sunbeams felt heavenly on your bare skin and you hummed contently as you basked in the glow. 

Stretching to help wake up your sluggish limbs, you opened your eyes and found yourself staring directly into a pair of familiar glacial eyes. 

“Tommy!” You were instantly wide awake as you scrambled out of bed, dragging the bedsheet along with you to wrap around your naked body. “Wha-what are you still doing here? I mean, you don’t stay afterward. You never stay afterward.” You felt your face grow hot as you realized now that you had stolen the sheet, he was lying bare in your bed, fully on display. It took all of your willpower to keep your eyes locked on his face and not let them drift down the muscular planes of his body or linger on the hardness between his legs.

Completely unfazed by your reaction or his naked state, Tommy propped himself up on one elbow. “You said you hadn’t been sleeping this past week yet you looked so peaceful last night I didn’t want to disturb you.”

You blinked several times in quick succession as you tried to process that information. “So you stayed….for me?”

He shot you a coy grin. “Yes, I stayed for you. Though my motives may not have been as selfless as you make it seem.” His expression softened and he opened up his arms inviting you back to bed. “The truth is, I too found myself more at peace with you by my side than I have in a long time.”

You relaxed slightly, the motion causing the sheet to slip down until your breasts were almost completely uncovered. Tommy’s eyes shifted down to them and you had to bite your lip to keep from smiling. Apparently, for once you had more self-control than the great Thomas Shelby. But that feeling of superiority didn’t last long as your nerves once again gripped you as you faced the situation at hand.

“So, if that’s true….What do we do now?” you hesitantly asked as you worried the sheet between your fingers, afraid his answer might have changed now in the bright light of day. “Do we resume our business as usual or has this become something else? Something more?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?” Tommy reached over to the small side table where his pack of cigarettes and lighter were waiting and pulled one out. Once it was lit, he took a long drag, held it, and slowly let the smoke stream from his lips. “I told you last night that this has not been business to me for a long time. I’ve respected what you do but if I had my way, you’d be mine and mine alone.”

This time, you didn’t even attempt to mask the smile spreading across your face. In fact, you embraced it until it was shining almost as brightly as the dancing across the room. “And what would you do with me, Thomas Shelby? If I was yours and yours alone?” you teased, leaning forward to show off even more of your exposed breast.

“I’d give you the fucking world.”

All of your playfulness evaporated with your sharp intake of breath. You scanned Tommy’s face for any indication he was joking or teasing you back, but there was none. As you locked eyes with him, all you saw was sincerity. It was truly how he felt. 

Trying to project the same level of honesty back at him, you whispered, “I don’t need the world, Tommy. As long as I have you…that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Well, you are in luck, love,” he said as he stubbed out his cigarette on the edge of the table. His eyes swiveled back to yours and he added matter-of-factly, “Because you’ve got me.”

You nodded, tears slightly blurring your vision. “And you’ve got me too. For forever. Starting right now.”

You dropped the sheet to the floor, pausing for just a moment to let Tommy take you in. Then you climbed back on the bed and into his waiting arms. 

I am toying with an idea for a Part 3 so let me know if you would be interested!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @skydisneylover

#ailesswhumptober2023 #fic #whumptober #the job #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #f!reader #prostitute!reader #soft smut #steamy #angst #whump #prostitution tw #steamy tw #nudity tw #vomiting tw #shock tw #language tw

[pomstr4wberr]

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍓 JOB DISASTER? (Or not) ꒱♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍭 ꒰ GN reader - they/them ꒱♡ ⌎

୧ ‧₊˚ 🥛 ꒰ Fluff/kinda suggestive ꒱♡ ⌎ ˊᗜˋ

NOTE : The reader is a prostitute . Reader is of age, of course. Reader just hangs out around malleus . Reader is not Yuu . This can be seen as platonic or romantic [I think] (they just hang out and talk about stuff). The reader is impiled to wear sorta lingerie clothing but still gn

YOU had a blank look on your face as you stared dumbfounded at the tall horn man standing in front of you. He stared at you as you couldn't believe that a customer had no idea and forgotten what your whole point of your job was.

Even virgins had some ideas about your whole job. You gritted your teeth, but you sighed as you were glad that you didn't have to overwork once again. he twitted his head in confusion as you pointed at you.

"What clothes are you wearing?" He says as he turns his head away, you sighed as you walk over and sit down on the bed. His room was dark and weird. You fixed your clothing.

"Do you even have an idea of what my job is?" You say as he looks at you and shakes your head. " No, I saw this weird thing online, and it said you weren't going to be alone..."

You cock an eyebrow up as you heard him say alone, did he seriously just pay you to not make him feel lonely? You smiled as you thought this was easy money making, you had to just stay and sit still looking pretty, which is something you can do every well!

"Sooo~ you just want me here to give you some company?" You say as he gives you a small smile and nods his head, "Yes, I indeed want you to, " you just nod your head as you think about what to say next and your next actions.

"Isn't this your job to give company?" He says as you go out of your thoughts, should you just say yes and let him believe or destroy his pure thoughts?

"Yes, it is my job" you say with an smile, you cock your head to the side. "Do your clothes matter to your job?" He says as he looks at your face, taking a quick glance at your clothing.

"My clothing is for close contact, you know, so I can bring warmer hugs!" You say as you give him a smile. he gives a ":0" face as he nods his head, "So your clothing style is to five better hugs to people?".

You smile as you lean back more, and you have a smirk on your face, "Yep, you're so right!" You liked this feeling, you looked at him.

"Do you want me to do anything?" To be honest, you didn't care if it sounded suggestive. He didn't seem to catch on what you meant by doing anything.

"Hmm... do you gargoyles?" he says while putting his hand on his chin. Did he mention those stone weird looking things? You noticed that he seemed interested in talking about gargoyles.

"Yeah, I do." That was a lie. You found those things quite boring, but you couldn't say no to him he just looked so cute. You didn't care if it was a romantic or platonic when you said he looked cute.

"Well, if you are talking about it, you must have gargoyles in this area" you say as he nods his head and brings he hand towards you.

"If you don't mind, let's go." He says with a smile, you smile back and grab his hand as he wants you up, "do you have like different clothing?" You say as he looks around and nods his head.

Taking this offer as a good idea, it seems like you could make a friend.

#strawpomswriting #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #x reader #fluff #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x gn reader #twst x reader #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #prostitute!reader #platonic #romantic

[reb0rned]

No Man's Land.

Summary: Lizzie's friend happens to be too busy for the day, so she recommends that you take on the job of helping the youngest of the Shelby brothers out.

Warnings: mentions of prostitution and sex, allusions at abuse, society rooted in misoginy.

Pairings: Finn Shelby x f!Reader (platonic for now!)

Characters: Finn Shelby, Prostitute! f!Reader.

Word Count: 2306.

This is set in Season 4! <3 Hope you enjoy your reading!!

You looked at yourself in the framed mirror that hung on one of the corners of the crowded room. The image that greeted you did not at all reflect what you felt inside. Make up helped hide your sunken eyes, and gave you and the rest of the world the comfortable illusion that everything was just fine; that you didn’t loathe every single second of your day with a burning passion. 

Sleep was hard, but then again, it was that way for most women, at least in your line of work. 

Your lips looked nearly naked, swollen and numb, but it was ok. The next one wouldn’t notice, you doubted he would even care at all if he did. You covered your skin in a disguise anyway; cheeks flushed, alive, and lips fresh, eyes hungry for more, fingers willing to please. 

To please a man, you thought, a Shelby man. 

That should mean something, should make you feel nervous, scared even, but you were surprisingly calm as you brushed your hair into place. 

No matter the name before it, a man was a man, and that you knew how to handle. Even though dangerous, like any wild animal, once you learnt their language, your chances at survival increased greatly, to the point where sometimes you may even feel safe around them. 

That, you had learnt the hard way, was as much an illusion as the smile that automatically grew on your face when you heard the doorbell ring outside, signaling for you to get ready. As was the curve on your back, or the confident tilt of your head as a man made his way into the room, deciding your fate for the rest of the day.

“Mr. Shelby, is it?” the young man nodded his head, but his face was tense and hard, he closed the door behind him almost hesitantly. He waited a few seconds before he met your eyes, then hastily proceeded to avoid your gaze. A flash of wild blue was what you had expected when you were told that a Shelby would be visiting today, or even a pair of dark stones, menacing, hungry for what laid beneath your clothes.

That wasn't what you found in his face for that brief moment though, his eyes were not as dark as caves nor as cold as ice; they felt bashful, innocent, like a fawn wandering a little too far away from home for comfort.

That, you thought at that moment, must've been one of the many illusions that surrounded you these days. After all, this was one of the Shelby brothers standing in front of you, and the blood on their hands was something nearly impossible to overlook, as was their infamous reputation.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he stood at the entrance for a bit too long, which meant that you had to stand up to go and greet him first. You groaned internally as your body ached in protest, your legs sore, your skin burning in tender places, but you didn't let him see that. You offered a hand, and he took it; sweaty, and warm, but that didn't matter. You gently pulled him towards the center of the room, to the foot of the bed, where you sat and waited for him to follow suit.

He was a good looking young man indeed, but this was not enough to fool you. You had witnessed beautiful forest fires; but that never stopped them from burning everything down to ashes. 

Albeit you would've thought a Shelby man to be quite rowdier than this one was.

Once again, it was you who broke the silence.

“I know that the plan was to meet with Lizzie’s friend and not me, so I apologize if I can't reach your expectations. I promise I will try, Mr. Shelby,” as you spoke, you performed what you had memorized expertly, exposing your bare breasts to the dusty air of the room. He didn't need to talk, you knew what was expected of you, and you were sure he’d make you know otherwise, so you paid no mind to his silence.

“It’s fine.” his eyes darted towards your hands as you placed them on his leg, and he shifted in place. 

“There's no need to be nervous, sir, I will do anything you ask for,” squeezing one of your hands, you took his with the other and gently led it towards your chest, trying to show him the way, but he wriggled it out of your grasp before any contact was made, scooting away from you uncomfortably. It didn’t leave your hands any colder than before, but his body language did cause a sting at the pit of your stomach, even if for a second. You pursed your lips then, slightly shocked as you tried to decipher his behavior.

“You really don’t need to,” his face was pointing opposite from you, and you wondered what could be of more interest to him than what you had to offer. 

“I’m confused.” trying to gain his attention back, you spoke, searching for his gaze with a lean of your body. He barely glanced at your face.

“This is not right, I don’t want to… to force anything, ‘right?” you tried to make sense of his words, looking elsewhere. You were starting to feel frustrated. Was this some sort of game? Was he making fun of you? He didn’t look like he was having fun, precisely. Why was he here, then? 

“Do you find me unpleasant, Mr. Shelby?” there wasn’t as much honey tangled in your voice anymore as there was a moment ago, words coming out sharper than you intended them to. Time wasn’t something you enjoyed spending, let alone waste it. If he wished to change whores, he should be a man about it and just say it.

“Please don't call me that.” 

“Isn't that your name, though, sir?” your patience was wearing thin, but your voice remained calm.

“My name is Finn, and, I don't,” he stopped himself, seeming to think his words over before he spoke. “it's not that I find you unpleasant, believe me, I’m just… I don’t want this, not this way…”

“Right…” you busied your hands with buttoning up your blouse, concentrating on each button individually. This gave you time to think as the man paced around the room aimlessly. “but you paid for this service.” you carefully pointed out.

“Yes, I know. Look, my family just expects me to, and I thought that I could do it, but… I don't like the way I’m feeling right now.” you couldn’t stop the small frown that made its way to your face. Of course, he was one of those.

“Ashamed?” you wanted to get this over with.

“No, not ashamed!” he looked at you then, and he must’ve seen something lingering in your gaze, because his eyes opened slightly more than usual, and he rushed to say his next words. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with my family, I promise.” 

You sighed. 

‘’Why does your family expect you to?’’

‘’I thought it might be a good idea to tell them that I was, well… a virgin.’’ his last words were soft, like a shameful confession, but you heard them clearly. 

‘’Oh,’’ your gaze dropped to the floor for a second. A virgin. That concept was so far away from you, it felt strange to hear it again, to reflect on its meaning like you did once, when you were a child. You do remember the fear, though. Knowing that someday it would be taken from you, painfully, ripped away like a wobbly tooth by someone that did not understand, nor care. 

Because they couldn’t understand, not one bit.

Yet, how could you explain the fear that you could see dancing in his soft green eyes? Suddenly you felt as if you were looking at yourself, a version of yourself lost long ago, that knew no delusions; not yet. The one you would do anything to keep safely wrapped around your arms.

How could a Shelby, out of all people, feel so fragile under your eyes?

And how was he alive?

‘’Apparently they think it's time for me to become a man, so,’’

‘’You’re not a man?’’ tilting your head to the side, you questioned.

‘’Not until I’ve fucked, I’m not.’’ you exhaled a laugh at that, getting up from your seat by the bed, and walking up to the small cabinet under the mirror. Opening it, you pulled a small bottle of rum out, pouring it out into one of the glasses that sat on top. Finn Shelby observed your movements from his side of the room, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves.

‘’I mean no offense by this, but that's a weird logic to have.’’ you walked up to him then, offering the glass up. He looked at it for a moment before taking it, with a nod of his head. You went back to fill your own.

‘’You think?’’ 

‘’I know.’’ you turned to look at him again, leaning back against the cabinet and stopping to sip on your drink. ‘’I’ve met all kinds of people, and I can assure you, no matter how many times they’d visit our whorehouse, or whomever they chose to fuck each night, that didn't make them any more of a man than they were before. Not in my eyes.’’ you shrugged.

‘’So fuck, or don’t. It’s the shit that you do outside of that what will tell everyone else what sort of man you’ve chosen to be.’’

He was silent again, but pain was visibly haunting his face. This was an intense chat to have with a stranger, but somehow this room, the very same room that held countless wars each day, some of them bloody and terrifying, had become no man’s land for the both of you, the sounds of guns and screams too far away for you to hear, and a strange sense of calm filling your chests.

‘’You don’t need to worry about me, I won’t tell anyone,’’ setting your glass down, you busied yourself looking for something else, giving him time to think, since he seemed to need it.

Once you found what you were looking for, you approached him again.

‘’Here,’’ you reached out your hand again, this time holding up to him a considerable amount of money; the same amount that you had received for the job. He seemed to snap out of his small trance then, knitting both eyebrows together softly.

‘’No, no, please keep it!’’ he held your hands and pushed them back gently.

‘’You payed for the fucking, and we’re not fucking, are we?’’ he didn’t let go of your hands, stubbornly holding them close to you.

‘’Let me pay you for your time, otherwise I’ll feel awful,’’

‘’Alright, if that's what you want, I thank you.’’

‘’I should be the one to thank you, really, uh… uhm… ‘’ he stared blankly at you for a second. You noticed his ears turning red, beneath all the freckles that adorned his skin.

‘’Something the matter?’’ you quirked one eyebrow up.

‘’I just realized I never asked for your name, that’s all.’’ he shook his head with an embarrassed smile, and you turned to look at him for a moment while you put the money back in its former place.

‘’My name? And why would that matter?’’ with a light groan, you fully rose back to your feet. God, you felt like sleeping. You hadn’t felt like sleeping in weeks.

‘’How can we become friends if I don't even know what to call you, miss?’’ his smile took you off guard, you had to admit. Lips folding into themselves with a soft curve, bared teeth never seemed so harmless in your eyes. 

‘’I suppose you're right,’’ after you told him your name, you reached for your glass and took a final swig, the both of you falling into a silence that could not be described accurately, for it didn’t make you uncomfortable, but at the same time, it gave you a sense of vertigo that felt deeply unusual.

Finn, on the other hand, looked way calmer than before, and you didn’t know him enough to tell, but you could swear there was a hint of the smile before lingering at the corners of his mouth.

‘’Well, I… will be taking my leave now, I’m supposed to be making money. But I’m glad to have met a man as respectable as you’ve proven to be, Finn,’’ you figured some theatricals wouldn't hurt, so you courtly bowed at him with a smile, turning to go for the door.

You stopped when you heard him call your name, however.

‘’Will you stay? I’ve some money left to spend, and I did enjoy our chat, you’re honest.'' when you turned to look at him, he was sitting on the bed again, a light smile while he looked at you. You couldn't help but return it.

''You’re paying me to speak to me? Shouldn't that be the other way around? You’re the Shelby, I’m just…''

“You’re you, and I’m me. At least in this room,'' he didn't stop looking in your eyes whilst you approached his sitting figure, waiting for some sort of confirmation, some mutual agreement. You pursed your lips, looking around for a moment.

''No man in sight?'' he shook his head at your words, and you stepped closer to the bed, to the free spot beside him.

''No woman either,'' he dared say as you sat down finally, letting your back hit the soft bed, and stretching your arms comfortably. You agreed, silently.

''Man, woman, what in the fuck does that mean, anyway?'' you whispered back, and he followed you down onto the softness.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #finn #finn shelby #prostitute!reader #oneshot #finn x reader #finn shelby x y/n #finn shelby x reader #season 4 #s4 #female reader #fem presenting reader #platonic

[imaginedreamwrite]

And then?

does someone come for her? Does he get jealous?

“They call you Delilah? That’s not your real name though?” You feel your breath catching in your throat and you settle your hand on your stomach to ease your nerves.

He’s been following you from the saloon, the rich lawyer coming to deal with an estate sale. He tried to buy your time but like the sheriff guaranteed, your time was taken. You were locked out and given no option but to wait around for him to come calling for you.

No one else had ever shown you much interest once the sheriff had bid you off limits. Until the lawyer came off the stagecoach and you caught your eye.

“I’m not available, other women are.” You step down the steps and try to hurry toward the general store, no real purpose to your task other than to busy yourself. “You can find someone else-“

“Delilah, that’s beautiful.” He continued, a fine suit that was freshly pressed was abnormal in a place like this. “If you’re not available for your services then maybe…”

He cleared his throat and you stopped walking again, glancing back at him in a plain yet pretty dress that seemed above your station. He was insistent, he was trailing after you while trying to gain your attention for even a brief moment.

“Miss Delilah, I would love it if you could accompany me for lunch. At the cafe perhaps?” He was hopeful and you turned to face him. You weren’t secure whether your lips parted to accept or deny him and you found yourself lacking the capability to do either.

“Delilah.” A stern voice, the drawl that had whispered dirty words and affections to you a few nights ago, was now speaking your faux name with a possessive streak.

“Sheriff-” you spoke his rank, just once, and practically quivered under the tension that sparked between the two men.

“Sheriff, I’ve heard a lot about you.” The lawyer hadn’t backed down though he seemed intimidated by the set of pistols on the sheriff’s hips. “I was accompanying Miss-”

“Delilah,” he spoke your saloon given name and held out his arm for you to take, or to tug you behind him, “perhaps you should head to my door. I have something to discuss with you after I deal with our treasured guest.”

“Forgive me Sheriff but Miss Delilah and I were going to have a conversation of our own.”

He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the rich lawyer, a single glance and the purse of his lips. He was sizing the lawyer up, possibly debating whether to throw him in jail for some ridiculous reason.

“I know Miss Delilah is restricted, however its not her services I require.” The lawyer insisted and you inhaled sharply with the weight of tension reverberated.

“And what do you require of my whore?” Your eyes closed, your stomach dropped.

Your heart broke, and you couldn’t deny a tear rolling down your cheek.

What he said was true. You were, inherently, his paid whore.

“The company of a lady, sheriff.” The lawyer rest a hand in your hip and the sheriff’s jaw clicked. “For lunch, even you could allow that.”

#sheriff character #western au #wild west au #wild west #saloon girl!Reader #old west #old west au #prostitute!Reader

[silvery-orchid]

Okay but imagine: prostitute! reader x neuvillette. Do you see the vision?

Do you see how insane that power dynamic would be? Do you understand how he would hate your other clients? The medical checkups he would force you to take?

The way you would slowly start to lose customers because odd things have been happening to the bussiness that sustains their relationship to you. Maybe he knows your reason for why you choose that profession or maybe he doesn't actually even care because he needs a place and a person who doesn't rely on him or sees him as a perfect ideal. He has always been so curious about humans and he cannot help when that curiosity takes over and mixes with his dragon instincts huehue.

The way you would have to sit there and watch him sentence one of your good friends only to end up on your knees sucking on his cock because he pays good money and he brought you here and you should be thankful it wasn't you up there.

The sex would go crazy, insane that is obvious but the fact you are the ONLY thing chief justice Neuvillette cannot help but try to hold for himself? The way you would be his only dirty secret and crime???

Nobody else pays more money and he just waits until your debts are repayed so that you can stop making him jealous when he walks in and sees new jewellery from someone else. Stop servicing other men !! The rains are heavy enough already!! If he wants to pay outlandish sums of money to fuck someone else's cum out of you, you will let him !!

Seriously, just stop the masquerades to meet and let him pay off your debts so you can change your identity and be only his !!

#genshin neuvillette #genshin smut #genshin impact #Imagine if fontaine had legal prostitution tho #But illegal is sOOO MUCH JUCIER!! #neuvillette smut #Ideas. #thirsty thoughts #neuvillette x reader

[neocentral]

rating: 18+. mdni.

content: noncon, prostitution, jeno x reader, jaemin x reader

jeno is standing by the door. at least, that’s what he said he was going to do. you stopped believing him because it always seemed to take longer than it should for him to finally come to your rescue, but you still hope he is.

you imagine him standing under periodically flickering white lights that buzzed all the way down the corridor. in your head, he doesn’t even have his phone in his hand, he’s focused, standing guard and ready to react when things get too rough and violent. you know it isn’t hard to tell. the walls are paper thin and the building is almost always empty aside from one or two other couples engaging in the same business as you that always kept to themselves.

jeno tries to make up for it afterwards, flaunting stacks of cash he managed to make that night by letting you choose a single item to indulge in. it’s never an easy decision to make, having to think of something that wouldn’t anger him and risk not getting anything at all and a punishment when you finally made it back to his house. so, you always end up settling for a simple ice cream cone, hoping your favorite sugary childhood treat would distract you from the feel of your skin that always felt foreign afterwards, and soothe the ugly feelings that bubbled in your chest with no where to go, only doubling and making it feel heavier and heavier as time goes on.

but the reality is, jeno isn’t rushing to save you and you know that, only choosing to paint pictures in your mind to attempt to calm your nerves and avoid harsh reality of what you already knew.

jeno is especially happy when na jaemin comes around. your boyfriends smiles almost seem genuine when he comes to collect you long after jaemin has left just in case he wished to stay a little longer than arranged. he deserves it, jeno says, you know it’s because of the large tip he throws onto the bedside table, sometimes he throws it right at you, letting it fall onto your sweaty skin.

jaemin is angry today. the air surrounding him ice cold, his frustration laced within it, leaving a sour taste on your tongue. he wasted no time, foregoing his usual “playtime.” you were stunned, somehow the quick escalation unsettling you more than the long, drawn out game he usually played.

now, his hand is pressing on the side of your head, pushing your cheek deeper into the flat pillow that reeked of mildew. the mirror facing the bed caught your attention, jaemin’s strong arms bulging as he flexed, using more force than necessary to hold you where he wanted.

you felt gross, shuddering as you met your own eyes. you blinked quickly, vision blurring just as fast as it cleared, tears falling one after the other. jeno is standing by the door, you told yourself.

#tw noncon #tw prostitution #starring... jeno ! #starring... jaemin ! #screenplay… #[NEO] play… #jeno x reader #jeno smut #nct x reader #nct smut #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut #nct hard hours #dark nct #dark jaemin #dark jeno #nct #nct dream #jeno

[sirensea14]

Can you draw Milo? (Which is KC in your story, remember?)

I wonder what he looks like! :)

NAME: Milo Starrling

AGE: 9 years old

GENDER: Male

APPEARANCE:

Red hair, green eyes, light skin.

Wearing an oversized yellow-orange striped shirt paired with orange shorts.

PERSONALITY:

Calm and cool. Always showing off something he deems cool, especially does it to the orphans during freetime. Does well in the History subject, but he can't handle Math. Playful and quite troublesome in recess and freetime. So rowdy he managed to catch some adults tweaking something under the statue of the Smiling Critters and get to talk to some of them. Sometimes refuses to sleep and tried his best to evade the Poppy Gas. His favorite toys are KickinChicken and Huggy Wuggy. He often plays with his best friend.

HISTORY:

A product of streetwalking, he didn't know who his father was. His mother meanwhile, beated and neglected him. He was left in the streets at the age of 6, forcing himself to survive the harsh conditions of heat, rain, hunger and homelessness. Two years after his homeless state, a Playtime Co. employee found him and took him to Playcare, the underground orphanage of Playtime Co.

Arriving at Playcare, he was quiet and untrusting. But after months of hopeful interaction, the other orphans and teacher have finally made him speak. Being at Playcare, he was troublesome for the workers, often messing around with them and despite the employees' protocol to NOT interact with any of them, the child will always create ways to play with the workers. Often acts cool and strong in front of the other orphans in the Playcare. Though he is exceptionally caring and close towards a certain child, seemingly having interest on her/him. From observation, they seem to be forming a bond.

In the Home Sweet Home, he shares a double deck bed with a friend.

Then after 2 years of bond, his friend got adopted. His demeanor dropped drastically, seemingly back to his emotional state of when he first arrived. But notably worse.

He is subject to be a candidate for Experiment # [REDACTED]. Further study and testing is required for such procedure.

Oops, i accidentally made a profile info of him lol.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #kickinchicken #smiling critters #kickinchicken x reader #sirensea #fanart #headcanon #tw prostitution #tiktilaok

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

The Job (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 23. Forced to Watch, Alt 25. Stalked Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: Tommy has been hiring you for your services for a while now, but this is the first time he has asked you for help concerning his family business... Word Count: 3205 TW: Fighting, Razor Blades, Blood, Forced to Watch, Stalked, Prostitution, Reader as Bait, Smoking, Implied Death Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and supported its writing, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Mastlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

But Tommy didn’t seem amused by your joke. His piercing blue eyes stared at you for a long moment, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. Then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he placed it between his lips, he said, “A different sort of job. On Friday night, I need you to make yourself look pretty and go down to The Marquis of Lorne.”

“The Marquis of—” you turned to look at him straight on. “Why would you want me to go to that pub when The Garrison is right here? Places like that on the edge of your territory… People there don’t always take kindly to me. Not with my reputation and all that.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you asked, “And why, pray tell, is that? What are you expecting me to do once I’m there? Because I’ve told you before, I pick who I service and I won’t have you demanding–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tommy said, calmly. “Like I already told you, it’s a different sort of job. Your reputation alone is more than enough to fit my needs. Just go to The Marquis, order a few drinks ‘til you’ve created the illusion you’ve become intoxicated, and then walk out the pub, simple as that. I’ll be waiting for you after at my stables down by the canal.” 

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

Tommy tapped the end of his cigarette into the glass of water you had left out on the table. You had scolded him about doing so countless times but now did not seem like the moment to comment on it. Raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he said, “There is a new gang trying to move in on our territories. They think we haven’t noticed and we mean to put an end to it before they realize we caught on. They frequent The Marquis on Friday nights so I need you to go in, get their attention, and once you have made them believe your tongue is nice and loose, I want you to start spilling all of the Peaky Blinders’s secrets— the false ones I tell you to say, of course.”

“Ahhh…” you nodded, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You want me to make them believe you’ve let slip sensitive information when you come to me for my services. Which is why you want me for my reputation. They’ll think Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore has caught him with his pants down in more ways than one.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips. 

Walking over to where he was sitting, you plucked the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in your mouth. You inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out right in Tommy’s face. “So, that’s it? I provide these fools who are crazy enough to try and challenge you false information on the Peaky Blinders and then just go along my way?”

Tommy ignored the smoke as he reached out and took his cigarette back, his fingers lingering for a moment as they brushed against yours. “Like you said, these men are fools. They’ll believe your deception. And when you leave the pub announcing you are going to sleep it off in one of the Peaky Blinders’s empty stash houses, they will follow you. And I will be waiting.”

You had to admit, it was a clever plan. Due to the popularity of the Peaky Blinders and the constant gossip surrounding them, everyone throughout Birmingham knew who you were and about your weekly dealings with Tommy Shelby. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you and you often caught people pointing or staring. Not that you usually minded. It was actually rather good for business. After all, what man wouldn’t want to say they had bedded the same woman as the head of the Peaky Blinders?

But while you had been servicing Tommy weekly for almost a year, he had never asked you to get involved in any Peaky Blinders business before this. In fact, Tommy had made it very clear from the start that you were to have no part in that aspect of his life. You were his momentary escape, a place where he could spend an hour or so without the weight of the world on his shoulders. So for him to come to you now asking this…. He must be more concerned about the other gang than he was letting on.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

“You just get them there and leave the rest to me,” Tommy said as he dropped the remains of his cigarette butt into your glass of water. Standing, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and gave you a tight smile. “So, do we have an arrangement?”

Biting your lip, you mulled the question over for a moment. Tommy was a brilliant strategist and you had no doubt his plan would work. But his brush off of your questions about what happened afterward had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. However, it was ill-advised to say no to someone as powerful as Thomas Shelby, so somewhat reluctantly, you said, “Fine. But I expect double my usual fee.”

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.” 

His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?” 

For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

As with most of Tommy’s plans, everything that Friday night went exactly as he predicted. Polly ended up bringing you a flashy new dress to wear that Tommy had purchased and from the moment you stepped into The Marquis of Lorne, you felt the weight of dozens of eyes on you. From there, it was easy to loudly drop Tommy’s name and your connection to him as you pretended to drink—as well as your “top secret” facts about the Peaky Blinders. Your table was soon swarmed by the gang members you were targeting, each offering to buy you another drink in the hopes of loosening your tongue further.

As the night wore on, a few of the men began getting more familiar with you than you were comfortable with, but you maintained your drunken facade and smiled through it. In your line of work, you had dealt with much worse before. However after one man stuck his hand up the bottom of your dress, you decided things had gone far enough and you rose unsteadily to your feet as you announced you were taking your leave. The men tried to convince you to stay or let them walk you home, but you insisted you would be alright on your own—there was an empty Peaky Blinders stash house nearby that you could sleep in for the night. You bit your lip to hide the smile threatening to break across your face as all the men’s eyes grew wide and they exchanged telling glances. Tommy Shelby, you are one brilliant man.

As you made your way out of the pub and into the foggy night, you could hear the men following close behind you. This was the part of the plan that concerned you the most. Back in the pub, there were other patrons who would step in if one of the men went too far or you called out for help. But out here on the empty road in the middle of the night, you doubted anyone would come to your aid if the men decided to approach you. You just had to trust Tommy knew what he was talking about and they would be more interested in finding the fake stash house than harassing you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy’s stable came into view. He had promised to meet you but as you got closer, there was no sign that anyone was there. Hesitating by the door, you wondered what you should do. There was no back door that you knew of so if something had happened and Tommy wasn’t there, you would be trapped inside alone with the gang between you and the only way out. But even if you decided to leave and continue on down the road, the gang would continue following you until they eventually grew suspicious and confronted you. So there was really no choice. You said a quick, silent prayer that Tommy was waiting for you, and you stepped inside.

You continued walking until you reached the far wall of the stable, but still, no Tommy. Your heart was beating furiously in your chest as the men behind you began to call out to you—crude, drunken taunts, and horrifying descriptions of what they were going to do to you. Spinning around, you looked everywhere desperately trying to find anything you could use to protect yourself with, but there were only a few hay bales. Trembling, you sunk to the ground and waited for the worst to come.

But just as the closest man was about to reach you, a figure stepped into the doorway of the stable, eclipsing the moonlight that had been illuminating the darkened space. Relief flooded through you as you recognized that familiar silhouette. Tommy had kept his word.

The men all turned and must have recognized him a few seconds after you did because a hushed murmur rippled through their group as they looked at him. Despite the fact they very obviously outnumbered him, you could sense the air of fear emanating from them, and you couldn’t blame them. While he may only be one man, this was Tommy Fucking Shelby they were facing. And that should be enough to terrify an army of men. 

Tommy began to slowly walk forward, closing the distance between him and the men. As he slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side, he called out in a strong voice that filled the stable, “Word on the streets is that you boys are trying to move in on our territory. Take things that are ours while you think we aren’t looking.” 

He gestured to where you were still huddled on the ground. Now that he had come closer, you could just make out his face. He raised one eyebrow at you, a silent query if you were alright. You nodded shakily and rose to your feet, still pressed tightly against the wall. You felt his eyes scanning you for anything amiss, and he gave a satisfied nod when he deemed you safe. 

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I am certain you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy came to a stop—his heels clicking loudly together—just a few inches before the closest man. Though his back was to you, you could tell the man was frightened by the way his hands shook as he raised them in the air. 

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You gasped in horror and pressed your hands to your mouth as a trail of blood flew through the air and splattered on the floor. Almost in slow motion, the man dropped to his knees, a horrendous gurgling emanating from his ruined throat. Then Tommy swung his cap again, using the razorblades sewn in the brim to finish the job, and the man toppled over without another sound.

The stable burst into chaos. The rest of the men rushed at Tommy but he was ready for them. Normally, it would have been near impossible odds with Tommy outnumbered so, but the men had been drinking very heavily back in the pub and their senses were dulled considerably. Tommy was able to avoid most of their attacks while landing blow after blow on the men—his razorblades sending blood flying with every swing.

You of course knew of the Peaky Blinders’s signature weapon of choice, yet this was the first time you had seen anyone use it in action. It was a horrendously strange sight to see: Tommy swinging something so innocuous as his tweed flat cap at the other men just for a burst of crimson blood to bloom in that same spot. And the fluid manner in which Tommy ducked and dodged, weaving his way from one man to the next, was almost beautiful in a way. Like a dancer taking the stage—stage made of blood.

There was no avoiding it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, burning your nose. Somehow, it even blocked out the pungent smells from all of the horses. Even in only the pale glow from the moonlight, everywhere you looked was dripping red. You had only been spared because you had dove sideways to huddle behind the hay bales next to you once the attack began, but they had taken the full brunt of the carnage. Blood was slowly filtering through the tightly packed hay as it traveled downward toward the ground—the pool on the floor steadily creeping closer to your feet.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

You froze, unsure of your next move. Tommy had never said anything about you remaining once you had done your part. Your only job was to lure the men to the stable and he would take care of the rest. Surely he didn’t mean for you to remain here to witness this slaughter?

And yet, he remained standing there with all of his focus on you despite his remaining enemies still swarming around him, blood dripping off of the end of his outstretched finger. So you did the only thing you could. You released your dress, letting the fabric fall once more to the ground, and nodded to him even as you shrank back behind the hay bales, quivering in fear. 

Seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t attempt to bolt again, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and turned back to the melee. There were only a few men still standing—the others were left moaning on the ground as they clutched at their wounds, or worse still, some lay perfectly still in growing pools of their own blood. 

With fewer opponents charging him at once, Tommy took a new, less frantic approach to the fight. Instead of attacking with the blades sewn into his hat, he began to use his fists— the sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the open area as his knuckles slammed into noses and cheekbones. One man even dropped like a stone as Tommy drove his fist into the man’s jaw. 

And you were forced to watch it all, terrified of what Tommy might do if you even glanced away. The one saving grace that made it even slightly bearable was that the clouds had shifted to partially cover the moon, hindering the visibility inside the stable. But that did nothing to shield you from the sounds or smells surrounding you.

Finally—mercifully—Tommy struck down the last of the gang members. He stood in the middle of the stable, chest heaving, as he looked around at the carnage surrounding him. Like this, he resembled some ancient god of war reveling in his battlefield, washed in the blood of his enemies.

Satisfied the fight was over, he picked his way through the maze of bodies on the floor and stopped before your hiding place. He held out his hand to you, but you ignored it, unable to touch the blood that coated it. Instead, you stepped out from behind the hay bales on your own and stood before him, unable to meet his eye.

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

His eyes flickered over you, and even with such a slight gesture, you felt the weight of his gaze as it examined every inch of you. You had stood bare in front of Thomas Shelby more times than you could count, had him thrust into the deepest part of your core on a weekly basis, and yet, you had never felt as exposed or vulnerable as you did right now.

As his eyes settled once more on your face, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. He placed it on the hay bale beside you and you shuttered to see his bloody fingerprints stained on the top bill. 

“I included a little extra for your trouble.” Your eyes snapped back up to look at him. Despite the circumstances, Tommy’s voice was as calm and level as always. It was the sort of tone one would expect to hear him use when he visited the church or held a business meeting, not when standing there surrounded by the corpses of his enemies and dyed red with their blood. 

“Now you are free to go.” He turned and walked calmly back towards the stable entrance. Pausing only momentarily to pick up his jacket, he slid it on in one fluid motion as he added, his back still turned towards you, “I’ll be round Wednesday at my normal time.” 

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought. 

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

#ailesswhumptober2023 #fic #whumptober #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #f!reader #prostitute!reader #angst #whump #blood tw #fighting tw #razor blade tw #prostitution tw #forced to watch tw #stalking tw

[companionjones]

I Swear

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader (can be taken as platonic or romantic)

Fandom: The Hunger Games

Summary: You’re a new victor of the Hunger Games, and you’ve found out what desirable victors are forced to do after the games. A previous victor visits you and assures you that you’re not alone.

Warnings: Many vague references to forced prostitution

*******

    “I can’t believe you beat me.”

    You had been sitting up in bed with your knees pulled up to your chest when you heard a voice from the doorway. “What?” your voice was scratchy from crying.

    He kept talking. “And only a year after me, too. It’s kind of insulting.”

    Upon a further observation, you recognised the boy talking to you as the Victor of the last year’s Hunger Games. The youngest Victor before you. “You’re Finnick Odair.”

    He smiled, “In the flesh. Can I come in?”

    You weren’t used to someone asking your permission for something. You answered after a moment. “Yeah?”

    “Great.” He stepped into the room. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/n L/n. I saw you in the games. I’m sorry.”

    “Sorry?” That was another word you weren’t used to hearing.

    Finnick nodded. “I’m sorry for it all. The Reaping, the Games, what they’re making you do now...”

    You huddled into yourself. “How do you know about that?”

    “Isn’t it obvious?” he smiled, but you could see from his eyes what he was really feeling. “They’re making me do the same thing.”

    Your heart broke as your remembered what you had to do earlier that night. You started to cry.

    Finnick came across the room and sat down on your bed. He didn’t touch you.

    “I thought this would be over after the games, but this--this is our life now.”

    He apologized again. “I know. I’m sorry.”

    “You’ve had to do this for a year already.” You realized. “We’re just kids.”

    “Can I hug you?” he suddenly asked.

    It occurred to you why consent was so important to him. You nodded.

    Finnick wrapped you in his arms, and you cried.

    You felt your shoulder get wet as well from Finnick letting a few tears slip out.

    “Can you stay with me tonight?” you asked, not wanting to be alone.

    Finnick nodded. “Of course. I can sleep on the other side of the bed, if you want, and not touch you.”

    Even the hug was becoming too much physical contact for you after what you were forced to do earlier. “Thank you.” You broke from the hug and dried your eyes. “Thank you so much for this. Why are you being so nice?” you wondered.

    He shrugged. “Because no one was there for me.” He crawled to the other side of the bed.

    “Well, I swear to be there for you too, okay?”

    Finnick chuckled, “Okay,” as he got under the covers. Once he was settled, he looked at you to see that you were holding your pinkie out to him.

    “Swear that we’ll always be there for each other?” you offered.

    Finnick smiled as he hooked your pinkie in his. “I swear.”

*******

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

#finnick #finnick x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #hunger games #the hunger games #sam caflin #companion jones #i swear #tw forced prostitution #tw prostitution

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Job (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 23. Forced to Watch, Alt 25. Stalked Fandom: Peaky Blinders, Tommy Shelby, f!reader, prostitute!reader Summary: Tommy has been hiring you for your services for a while now, but this is the first time he has asked you for help concerning his family business... Word Count: 3205 TW: Fighting, Razor Blades, Blood, Forced to Watch, Stalked, Prostitution, Reader as Bait, Smoking, Implied Death Notes: A HUGE thanks to @loverhymeswith who not only sent me the ask that inspired this fic and supported its writing, but also for getting me into Peaky Blinders in the first place! Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Masterlist (coming soon)

Part 1, Part 2

“I want to hire you for a job.”

You grinned at Tommy over your shoulder as you finished buttoning up your blouse and began to pull on your skirt. “I’m pretty sure you just did.”

But Tommy didn’t seem amused by your joke. His piercing blue eyes stared at you for a long moment, his face void of emotion and completely unreadable. Then he pulled out a cigarette and lit it. As he placed it between his lips, he said, “A different sort of job. On Friday night, I need you to make yourself look pretty and go down to The Marquis of Lorne.”

“The Marquis of—” you turned to look at him straight on. “Why would you want me to go to that pub when The Garrison is right here? Places like that on the edge of your territory… People there don’t always take kindly to me. Not with my reputation and all that.”

Tommy took a long drag on his cigarette. “It’s precisely because of your reputation that I’m asking you to go.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you asked, “And why, pray tell, is that? What are you expecting me to do once I’m there? Because I’ve told you before, I pick who I service and I won’t have you demanding–”

“It’s nothing like that,” Tommy said, calmly. “Like I already told you, it’s a different sort of job. Your reputation alone is more than enough to fit my needs. Just go to The Marquis, order a few drinks ‘til you’ve created the illusion you’ve become intoxicated, and then walk out the pub, simple as that. I’ll be waiting for you after at my stables down by the canal.” 

“And why do I feel like that’s not your whole plan? It still doesn’t explain why The Marquis and not some other pub.”

Tommy tapped the end of his cigarette into the glass of water you had left out on the table. You had scolded him about doing so countless times but now did not seem like the moment to comment on it. Raising the cigarette to his lips once more, he said, “There is a new gang trying to move in on our territories. They think we haven’t noticed and we mean to put an end to it before they realize we caught on. They frequent The Marquis on Friday nights so I need you to go in, get their attention, and once you have made them believe your tongue is nice and loose, I want you to start spilling all of the Peaky Blinders’s secrets— the false ones I tell you to say, of course.”

“Ahhh…” you nodded, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. “You want me to make them believe you’ve let slip sensitive information when you come to me for my services. Which is why you want me for my reputation. They’ll think Thomas Shelby’s favorite whore has caught him with his pants down in more ways than one.”

“I’ve always said you were a clever one.” For the first time since he had gotten dressed, something akin to a smile ghosted across Tommy’s lips. 

Walking over to where he was sitting, you plucked the cigarette from his fingers and placed it in your mouth. You inhaled before slowly blowing the smoke out right in Tommy’s face. “So, that’s it? I provide these fools who are crazy enough to try and challenge you false information on the Peaky Blinders and then just go along my way?”

Tommy ignored the smoke as he reached out and took his cigarette back, his fingers lingering for a moment as they brushed against yours. “Like you said, these men are fools. They’ll believe your deception. And when you leave the pub announcing you are going to sleep it off in one of the Peaky Blinders’s empty stash houses, they will follow you. And I will be waiting.”

You had to admit, it was a clever plan. Due to the popularity of the Peaky Blinders and the constant gossip surrounding them, everyone throughout Birmingham knew who you were and about your weekly dealings with Tommy Shelby. Everywhere you went, whispers seemed to follow you and you often caught people pointing or staring. Not that you usually minded. It was actually rather good for business. After all, what man wouldn’t want to say they had bedded the same woman as the head of the Peaky Blinders?

But while you had been servicing Tommy weekly for almost a year, he had never asked you to get involved in any Peaky Blinders business before this. In fact, Tommy had made it very clear from the start that you were to have no part in that aspect of his life. You were his momentary escape, a place where he could spend an hour or so without the weight of the world on his shoulders. So for him to come to you now asking this…. He must be more concerned about the other gang than he was letting on.

“And what happens once I lead them to the stables? I’m guessing you aren’t looking for a friendly chat.”

“You just get them there and leave the rest to me,” Tommy said as he dropped the remains of his cigarette butt into your glass of water. Standing, he placed his large hands on your shoulders and gave you a tight smile. “So, do we have an arrangement?”

Biting your lip, you mulled the question over for a moment. Tommy was a brilliant strategist and you had no doubt his plan would work. But his brush off of your questions about what happened afterward had a knot forming in the pit of your stomach. However, it was ill-advised to say no to someone as powerful as Thomas Shelby, so somewhat reluctantly, you said, “Fine. But I expect double my usual fee.”

“Done.” Tommy gave your shoulders a soft squeeze then turned to grab his cap off the table. “I’ll send Polly around in the morning with the details of what you should say. She can also help you find something to wear. Then head to The Marquis on Friday at seven and you know what to do.” 

His hand reached for the door, but you called out, “Tommy” – he paused and turned to face you – “I’ll do what you want this once because it’s you who’s asking, but I’m not a Peaky Blinder. And I won’t have anything else to do with their business or transgressions. I don’t want to be involved with that lot. Are we understood?” 

For a moment, Tommy didn’t move as he stared at you, save for one exaggerated blink of his icy blue eyes. You wondered if you went too far and said something you shouldn’t have. But then, he nodded, his tongue sliding across his full lips. “Understood.”

You smiled in relief and ducked your head, but before you could thank him, Tommy walked out the door.

As with most of Tommy’s plans, everything that Friday night went exactly as he predicted. Polly ended up bringing you a flashy new dress to wear that Tommy had purchased and from the moment you stepped into The Marquis of Lorne, you felt the weight of dozens of eyes on you. From there, it was easy to loudly drop Tommy’s name and your connection to him as you pretended to drink—as well as your “top secret” facts about the Peaky Blinders. Your table was soon swarmed by the gang members you were targeting, each offering to buy you another drink in the hopes of loosening your tongue further.

As the night wore on, a few of the men began getting more familiar with you than you were comfortable with, but you maintained your drunken facade and smiled through it. In your line of work, you had dealt with much worse before. However after one man stuck his hand up the bottom of your dress, you decided things had gone far enough and you rose unsteadily to your feet as you announced you were taking your leave. The men tried to convince you to stay or let them walk you home, but you insisted you would be alright on your own—there was an empty Peaky Blinders stash house nearby that you could sleep in for the night. You bit your lip to hide the smile threatening to break across your face as all the men’s eyes grew wide and they exchanged telling glances. Tommy Shelby, you are one brilliant man.

As you made your way out of the pub and into the foggy night, you could hear the men following close behind you. This was the part of the plan that concerned you the most. Back in the pub, there were other patrons who would step in if one of the men went too far or you called out for help. But out here on the empty road in the middle of the night, you doubted anyone would come to your aid if the men decided to approach you. You just had to trust Tommy knew what he was talking about and they would be more interested in finding the fake stash house than harassing you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as Tommy’s stable came into view. He had promised to meet you but as you got closer, there was no sign that anyone was there. Hesitating by the door, you wondered what you should do. There was no back door that you knew of so if something had happened and Tommy wasn’t there, you would be trapped inside alone with the gang between you and the only way out. But even if you decided to leave and continue on down the road, the gang would continue following you until they eventually grew suspicious and confronted you. So there was really no choice. You said a quick, silent prayer that Tommy was waiting for you, and you stepped inside.

You continued walking until you reached the far wall of the stable, but still, no Tommy. Your heart was beating furiously in your chest as the men behind you began to call out to you—crude, drunken taunts, and horrifying descriptions of what they were going to do to you. Spinning around, you looked everywhere desperately trying to find anything you could use to protect yourself with, but there were only a few hay bales. Trembling, you sunk to the ground and waited for the worst to come.

But just as the closest man was about to reach you, a figure stepped into the doorway of the stable, eclipsing the moonlight that had been illuminating the darkened space. Relief flooded through you as you recognized that familiar silhouette. Tommy had kept his word.

The men all turned and must have recognized him a few seconds after you did because a hushed murmur rippled through their group as they looked at him. Despite the fact they very obviously outnumbered him, you could sense the air of fear emanating from them, and you couldn’t blame them. While he may only be one man, this was Tommy Fucking Shelby they were facing. And that should be enough to terrify an army of men. 

Tommy began to slowly walk forward, closing the distance between him and the men. As he slipped his jacket off and tossed it to the side, he called out in a strong voice that filled the stable, “Word on the streets is that you boys are trying to move in on our territory. Take things that are ours while you think we aren’t looking.” 

He gestured to where you were still huddled on the ground. Now that he had come closer, you could just make out his face. He raised one eyebrow at you, a silent query if you were alright. You nodded shakily and rose to your feet, still pressed tightly against the wall. You felt his eyes scanning you for anything amiss, and he gave a satisfied nod when he deemed you safe. 

Then, addressing the men once more, he continued. “You are not the first to think you could come for the Peaky Blinders and I'll bet you won’t be the last. But I’m here to make certain that after tonight, you won’t be a problem any longer.”

Tommy came to a stop—his heels clicking loudly together—just a few inches before the closest man. Though his back was to you, you could tell the man was frightened by the way his hands shook as he raised them in the air. 

Tommy smiled at the gesture…. then ripped off his cap and slashed it across the man’s throat.

You gasped in horror and pressed your hands to your mouth as a trail of blood flew through the air and splattered on the floor. Almost in slow motion, the man dropped to his knees, a horrendous gurgling emanating from his ruined throat. Then Tommy swung his cap again, using the razorblades sewn in the brim to finish the job, and the man toppled over without another sound.

The stable burst into chaos. The rest of the men rushed at Tommy but he was ready for them. Normally, it would have been near impossible odds with Tommy outnumbered so, but the men had been drinking very heavily back in the pub and their senses were dulled considerably. Tommy was able to avoid most of their attacks while landing blow after blow on the men—his razorblades sending blood flying with every swing.

You of course knew of the Peaky Blinders’s signature weapon of choice, yet this was the first time you had seen anyone use it in action. It was a horrendously strange sight to see: Tommy swinging something so innocuous as his tweed flat cap at the other men just for a burst of crimson blood to bloom in that same spot. And the fluid manner in which Tommy ducked and dodged, weaving his way from one man to the next, was almost beautiful in a way. Like a dancer taking the stage—stage made of blood.

There was no avoiding it. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, burning your nose. Somehow, it even blocked out the pungent smells from all of the horses. Even in only the pale glow from the moonlight, everywhere you looked was dripping red. You had only been spared because you had dove sideways to huddle behind the hay bales next to you once the attack began, but they had taken the full brunt of the carnage. Blood was slowly filtering through the tightly packed hay as it traveled downward toward the ground—the pool on the floor steadily creeping closer to your feet.

You had to escape this massacre as soon as possible.

Eventually, you saw an opening but just as you gathered up your dress to make a dash to freedom, Tommy spun around and pointed one blood-soaked finger at you. “You! Stay where you are.”

You froze, unsure of your next move. Tommy had never said anything about you remaining once you had done your part. Your only job was to lure the men to the stable and he would take care of the rest. Surely he didn’t mean for you to remain here to witness this slaughter?

And yet, he remained standing there with all of his focus on you despite his remaining enemies still swarming around him, blood dripping off of the end of his outstretched finger. So you did the only thing you could. You released your dress, letting the fabric fall once more to the ground, and nodded to him even as you shrank back behind the hay bales, quivering in fear. 

Seemingly satisfied that you wouldn’t attempt to bolt again, Tommy slowly lowered his hand and turned back to the melee. There were only a few men still standing—the others were left moaning on the ground as they clutched at their wounds, or worse still, some lay perfectly still in growing pools of their own blood. 

With fewer opponents charging him at once, Tommy took a new, less frantic approach to the fight. Instead of attacking with the blades sewn into his hat, he began to use his fists— the sound of breaking bones echoing throughout the open area as his knuckles slammed into noses and cheekbones. One man even dropped like a stone as Tommy drove his fist into the man’s jaw. 

And you were forced to watch it all, terrified of what Tommy might do if you even glanced away. The one saving grace that made it even slightly bearable was that the clouds had shifted to partially cover the moon, hindering the visibility inside the stable. But that did nothing to shield you from the sounds or smells surrounding you.

Finally—mercifully—Tommy struck down the last of the gang members. He stood in the middle of the stable, chest heaving, as he looked around at the carnage surrounding him. Like this, he resembled some ancient god of war reveling in his battlefield, washed in the blood of his enemies.

Satisfied the fight was over, he picked his way through the maze of bodies on the floor and stopped before your hiding place. He held out his hand to you, but you ignored it, unable to touch the blood that coated it. Instead, you stepped out from behind the hay bales on your own and stood before him, unable to meet his eye.

He leaned in close until his face was only a breath’s distance from you and he said, “Next time I pay you for a service, you don’t leave until you are given permission. Is that understood?”

“Y-yes, Tommy,” you managed to choke out, tears stinging your eyes.

His eyes flickered over you, and even with such a slight gesture, you felt the weight of his gaze as it examined every inch of you. You had stood bare in front of Thomas Shelby more times than you could count, had him thrust into the deepest part of your core on a weekly basis, and yet, you had never felt as exposed or vulnerable as you did right now.

As his eyes settled once more on your face, he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a stack of money. He placed it on the hay bale beside you and you shuttered to see his bloody fingerprints stained on the top bill. 

“I included a little extra for your trouble.” Your eyes snapped back up to look at him. Despite the circumstances, Tommy’s voice was as calm and level as always. It was the sort of tone one would expect to hear him use when he visited the church or held a business meeting, not when standing there surrounded by the corpses of his enemies and dyed red with their blood. 

“Now you are free to go.” He turned and walked calmly back towards the stable entrance. Pausing only momentarily to pick up his jacket, he slid it on in one fluid motion as he added, his back still turned towards you, “I’ll be round Wednesday at my normal time.” 

Then he disappeared into the foggy night, leaving you alone surrounded by the ghastly horror he had wrought. 

Part 2 coming soon and it will be much more relationship-heavy (plus pretty steamy😉)!

Tag list: @loverhymeswith, @heart-0n-fire, @that-sarcastic-writer, @eternallyvenus, @writercole, @deppresseddyslexic, @confetti-cakemix, @flamingdisputes, @callsign-phoenix

#ailesswhumptober2023 #fic #whumptober #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #f!reader #prostitute!reader #angst #whump #blood tw #fighting tw #razor blade tw #prostitution tw #forced to watch tw #stalking tw

[dorkofclanlavellan]

Finnick & the Princess

Note 1: Voters wanted this series to be fem!reader, so here she is. But I'm going to try to keep her as neutral as possible in other ways. Note 2: Also I'll be using Princess in place of y/n Note 3: Because we don't know exactly how Volunteering works in Career Districts other than "it's more complicated" I just decided to make up my own hc. In Career Districts after people stop volunteering the escort goes through a process of talking with each volunteer and then picks the one they think will be more entertaining for the Capitol. Pairings: Finnick Odair x fem!Reader Warning(s): Canon typical content - Violence, death, human trafficking, blackmail. Also parental neglect & emotional abuse.

Princess volunteered at the reapings of the 68th Hunger Games, not because she actually wanted to but because her parents had made it clear that if she didn't volunteer, be selected for, and win the Games before she aged out, she would be disowned.

So for years she'd been constructing a persona she knew would not only get her selected for the Games but would get her at least a few sponsors.

She spoke at a higher pitch than usual, she giggled and hummed and frolicked. And the Capitol ate it up. She only ever dropped the facade when she was completely alone with her mentors. Finnick liked to dip back and forth between complimenting her acting skills and teasing her for the things she did and said in her false persona. Not even her District partner saw her true personality, so he fell for the act as well.

As much as the Capitol citizens were enthralled with the District 4 girl, no one expected her to actually be skilled. She didn't engage in any combative skill in training, she skimmed over the survival skills and she didn't speak with the other Careers. Between her facade and her ignoring them, the Career Pack excluded her and only took in the boy from her District.

Then came the training scores. And everyone was shocked when Princess got a 10. What could she possibly have done to land a score that high? Many speculated that the Gamemakers had merely pitied her, or were so mesmerized by her that they accidentally added a 0 after her real score.

In her interview with Caesar Flickerman, Princess batted her eyes, and sounded naively optimistic.

During the countdown for the Bloodbath, everyone was betting Princess would be dead before the day's end. Then the gong sounded and Princess was off before anyone else could react. It was clear she was by far the fastest of this year's tributes. By the time the District 2 female (Lilith Creswick) and District 1 male (Riesling Munza) caught up to Princess, she'd grabbed a decent amount of supplies including 2 bags which she had shouldered, and a sword.

In what seemed like a single flowing motion, Princess slipped around Lilith, raised her sword arm, and sliced open Riesling's throat. She then proceeded to practically twirl past other tributes, snatching up a wicker basket full of food on her way and ran off.

Everyone was in shock from the Capitol elite, to the other tributes, even Finnick and Mags who were privy to the fact that Princess was putting on a fake persona. The only people who weren't surprised were those present for her private session with the Gamemakers.

Princess continued to surprise during her games, presenting a persona of a naive but mesmerizing girl one moment and in the next efficiently killing or otherwise causing the death of other tributes. One thing became clear to everyone Princess had a sharp mind.

After her win, Princess was able to drop her facade whenever she was home in District 4 and cameras weren't on her. Otherwise, she kept up her whimsical act.

Unfortunately, this persona didn't save her from President Snow threatening her family to force her into prostitution. If anything it increased demand to have her. Too many elite pricks manifested or discovered a corruption kink for Princess.

Princess' only reprieve from her trauma was Finnick. They couldn't make their quickly developing relationship public but that was fine with the both of them. It made their relationship feel more real because it was just for them and not for the Capitol.

#finnick odair x reader #the hunger games #thg series #thg fanfiction #finnick odair #finnick odair x fem!reader #princess instead of y/n #tw: violence #tw: parental neglect #tw: emotional abuse #tw: forced prostitution #tw: death

[patheticbabie]

Hi, author, I'm the anon who requested about jason and prostitute reader👋👋

How are you doing? Do you feel alright? What happened to your upper arms? Sending hugs to you cos I won't be able to help much but I hope my blessings will reach to you🫂🥰🙏... In either ways, please take good care of yourself and always remember there's no rush in anything, your own pleasure and quality come first😘😘

And... tbh, I kinda forgotten what I requested 😅😅 so, can i have a little peak lol🤏 Bye!

hello my lovely...thank you for the hugs and reassurance 💕

I feel okay, just still in a bit of pain is the doctor gave me strong painkillers to help me out for when I sleep at night. so I had surgery on my upper arm cause the doctor noticed there was a kink in my veins so they had to cut into the area and unkink the veins (kinda complicated lol). also I wanna give you a symbol or nickname for whenever you message!!

jason todd x prostitute!reader summary: reader was a prostitute working for a greedy man who promises that she'd make a lot of money to pay for her rent, her boss is manipulative. Reader was in debt to her greedy boss, Jason 'takes care' of her boss and paid off her debts in full. Now as a sign of gratitude she serves Jason and only him.

he's watching her from the rooftop he's on. He watches as she works the corners in the shady parts of gotham, it's a cold night, but she's wearing a crop top, mini skirt that barely covers anything. She was promised that she would only have to work as a sex worker until her debt is cleared to her manipulative boss. She had to find a way to make quick money, it wasn't her first choice to be a prostitute, let alone one in gotham, but she needs a way to pay for rent, food and her college. She leans against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself as her boss 'visits' her. His sleezy self, has a smirk on his lips as he grabs her face with enough force to hurt and bruise her. Jason can faintly hear what her boss is telling her, "you're my number one girl, why would I ever let you go if you still have your debt to pay off." "you belong to me, no other man would like someone who whores themselves out to make money"

send a message and meet and talk to the muses

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd #red hood x reader smut #jason todd smut #candice writes #;babies ask #anon #answered #jason todd x prostitute!reader #ladybird!reader #babies: muses

[wallwriterstuff]

Healing Hands ||Finnick Odair x Female!Reader||

Warnings: Explicit content, 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of non-consensual knife play and blood drinking. Descriptions of trauma, a lot of angst. Talk of Finnick’s prostitution. Fluffy ending. Female Reader so she/her pronouns and body descriptions used. 

Word Count: 4280

Summary:

Finnick tries to come home to her in one piece, but when he shatters, its only her that can put him back together again. 

“Don’t talk.” He grumbled. 

In a matter of seconds since entering her apartment he had her pinned her against the wall, her wrists trapped above her head in one hand while the other tilted her mouth up to meet his in a bruising kiss. He pushed his knee between her thighs, forcing her to spread her legs for him as tongue, teeth and lips collided.

“Finni-“ he cut her off with a sharp nip of her bottom lip, eyes dark as he pulled back and shifted his hand from her cheek to her chin, gripping her jaw firmly.

“I said, don’t talk. Only time I should hear you is if you’re saying your safe word. Tell me.” He ordered. She stared at him with wide eyes, frozen for a moment as her mind raced with a thousand and one possibilities as to why Finnick could be so riled up, but they fled her head as quickly as they had come when he squeezed her jaw lightly and pressed her for an answer.

“Seasalt.” She breathed. Finnick’s eyes were not the gentle, seafoam green she was used to but more of a harder shade today. Whether it was lust or something else she wasn’t sure, as he was never usually so forceful with her, but she couldn’t deny the quiet thrill it sent through her to think about what he might do like this.

“Are you using it now?” he asked. There was her Finnick. For just a brief moment he shone through, his thumb grazing her jawbone as he intently studied her expression for any sign of discomfort or discontent with the situation he’d put her in. She swallowed, taking a deep breathe in through her nose before exhaling deeply.

“No, but…are you okay to do this?” she asked. Finnick’s expression faltered for only a moment, and she saw a storm of grief and aggravation in his eyes before he pushed it all down again, his eyes flickering to her mouth, then her forehead, anywhere but her eyes in case she saw through him.

“I need this.” He huffed, smothering her mouth once more with the sloppy heat of his desire. Whether it was driven by true passion or something else she wasn’t too sure but she let it lead her for now, the underlying hint of desperation in the way he licked into her mouth telling her just how much he really did need this. To feel her. To claim her. To know she was there and whole and his. With a groan, Finnick dropped her hands in favour of getting a firm grip on her thighs, hiking her up the wall and pulling her legs around his waist. She gasped, head thunking back against the wall as Finnick buried his mouth in the crook of her neck next, biting and sucking marks into the skin like he wanted to devour her whole and keep her safe inside him.

Finnick grunted, reaching up with one hand to forcibly tug her shirt away from her collar bone, mouthing his way along the bone before biting down on the fleshy part of her shoulder with a grunt. With a soft cry, she moved her hands from his shoulders to his hair, pulling on the carefully styled strands until they were tousled beyond saving. Heat simmered in her veins as he kissed her once more, setting her down and giving the hem of her shirt a firm tug in quick succession. Panting, she lifted her arms to oblige him, and one hand immediately went to her chest to pull and pinch her nipples stiff. With quiet pants, she kept one hand tugging at his hair while the other raked down his back, making him arch into her. She moaned, feeling his free hand push down into her pants and firmly press against her before he began to rub in harsh, quick movements.

“Fuck, Finnick!” she yelped, eyes screwing closed as she threw her head back, “Fuck, t-too much!” It was a dizzying, overwhelming experience to feel so much of him at once. His mouth was hot against her neck and collar bone, his hand warm and strong on her breasts while the rough and calloused pads of his fingers created a delicious kind of friction against her clit.

“Take it.” he growled, pulling back just enough to press his forehead to hers. There was a light sheen of sweat covering both of them know, his breath coming in harsh little pants as she floundered, desperately looking for something to cling onto and ground her. The ebb and flow of her pleasure was not gentle. It felt more like a shock, quick to come and quick to go, but it was building the all too familiar sensation in her gut all the same. She gasped, pleaded, attempted to move his hand away as her hips jerked, but it was all to no avail. Finnick didn’t move until he was ready to, his fingers dipping down and slipping in with ease. She was soaking wet and squeezing at the intruding digits, close to release and losing her mind at the overwhelming sensation of him abusing that one little rough patch that always bought her such relief.

“Finnick.” She whined, flexing her hips in time with the bruising pace he had set to try and ride his fingers. Finnick’s tongue darted out to wet his lips and she almost whimpered at the sight. He was practically ethereal in the fading light of the early evening. Bronze skin and golden hair glowing in the sunset, he was firm and lean against her, smelling of salty sweat and sea breeze and something so distinctly Finnick she could never quite name. The growl in his voice when he spoke to her was enough for her to lose all sense of rhyme and reason.

“Fucking take it!”

“F-Finnick! Oh!” the noises she was made were loud and obscene. Her thoughts scattered like dust in the wind. Her knees quivered and her body nearly folded in two, jerking and spasming as her orgasm hit her hard. Finnick’s pace didn’t let up, not until he was satisfied he had completely robbed her of the ability to walk, and when his fingers left her pants he immediately began smearing her essence over her lips in a silent demand for her to clean them off. Completely drunk on pleasure as she was, she obediently opened her mouth and began to suck the remnants of her orgasm from his fingers, her eyes locked with his as they both tried to catch their breath. Though her mind was a little hazy, relaxed and sated, she became aware of the feeling of pressure against her thigh, and her hand lazily drifted down to find it was Finnick rutting against her. It stopped when her hand found the straining material at his crotch, replaced instead by her hand massaging the outline of his arousal as his head tipped back slightly and his eyes fluttered closed.

She watched the way his mouth moved, opening and closing a little as he tried to form coherent words. His throat bobbed, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he exhaled sharply in a pant.

“Want you on your knees.” He rasped. She reached up to grasp his wrist, pulling his fingers from her mouth slowly until they came free with a quiet pop. His head slowly lifted, eyes watching her as she slithered out from between him and the wall and began to walk backwards, leading him by the hand into the living room. Finnick watched her every move with intense scrutiny, but obligingly helped her unbutton his shirt and push down his trousers before she pushed him onto the sofa. He landed with a huff, reaching for her eagerly as she bent at the waist to press a kiss to his lips. Finnick tried to chase her mouth before she pushed him back against the cushions, moving her mouth instead to his throat where a few gentle bites were left. She couldn’t mark him up, not when he had so many patrons who would become incensed if they thought their favourite toy had been played with by somebody else. It was an unfair part of their dynamic, but she had accepted that the price to pay for being with Finnick was having no claim to her lover whatsoever and wondering whose bed he was in on lonely nights.

Pushing the thoughts away, she focused on sucking the tension from his body via his cock.

The moment she sucked him into her mouth his hands flew into her hair, gripping tightly at the roots as a low moan of relief escaped him. She felt him throb against her tongue as she began to vigorously work him over, her tongue lapping at the underside of a swollen, sensitive head whenever she bobbed back up while her hand pumped synchronously at the base. He had been trimmed recently and the little pinpricks of hair stabbing into her fist were only a minor distraction compared to the symphony of noises escaping him. Finnick had always been one to enjoy quieter moments of intimacy, but the Capitol had changed even that about him – his patrons needed to know their pathetic attempts at pleasing him work ‘working’ after all. Not that he even managed to get it up for them without help. No, that was a privilege he tried to save for her and her alone, but there were days when the Capitol took even that from him to.  

“Fucking hell sweetheart,” he groaned, “Oh, oh that’s good, good fucking girl.” The rambling praise was new and it distracted her enough she wasn’t quite prepared for him to suddenly thrust up into her throat. She gagged a bit and had to pull back, taking a moment to catch her breath and clear her throat as Finnick thrust into her fist instead. His head had snapped up at the sound of her cough and he seemed tense, only relaxing again when she gave him a nod and a smile to let him know she was alright. She would have been lying if she had said that the praise hadn’t sent a bolt of need straight through her. She needed to hear it again, needed to make him feel good like that again. Closing her lips back around the leaking head of his cock, she gently tapped his hand to let him know he could control the pace, could take what he needed, and Finnick immediately set to work thrusting up into her mouth, a broken string of curses and whines escaping him.

She whimpered quietly, her jaw beginning to ache but the rest of her alight with want. When she peered up at him through her lashes, she got a halo of gold and glistening skin, and she was quite sure that nobody in this world or the next would have ever been able to say no to him. His chest heaved with every gasping breath, the toned muscles of his abdomen twitching and jumping beneath her fingers as she skated them up over his stomach. Finnick Odair was hers. No Capitolite would ever know the planes of his body better than her. No patron could ever tell him secrets he would hold as dearly as he held her own. Nobody could make him come apart like this.

Except he didn’t.

Without warning he pulled her off of him and urged her up, hands immediately shifting down to her pants.

“Don’t you want to-“

“You, need to cum in you.” He panted, his eyes pleading as her heart shot into her throat. This wasn’t the Capitol, there were no fancy injections or pills here to prevent childbirth, and she certainly wasn’t going to risk having to take those herbal teas that did terrible things to your insides just to ensure you wouldn’t add to the infant mortality rate. This wasn’t her Finnick. Her Finnick knew well how she felt about the mere thought of children in their current world and had never pushed the issue, even agreed with her.

“Seasalt.” She spoke firmly, clearly, and Finnick immediately froze, staring at her with wide, unfocused eyes. She crouched in front of him, taking her face in his hands and brushing her thumbs along his cheeks.

“I…I…”

“In another life, I’d say yes, but this is the one we live, so you do it on my back or stomach or no dice, you understand?” she said. Finnick swallowed thickly, leaning forward to press his forehead to hers and whispering an apology. She kissed the tip of his nose, then his lips, and gave him a little smile of reassurance. He reached up to cover her hands with his own, squeezing lightly.

“I understand. I’m sorry, I just…I need…I can’t…Snow…” he could barely stutter the words out, his expression more agonised than usual, and it was all the explanation she really needed. The President had threatened him many times before, and it usually resulted in some outward display of behaviour that wasn’t quite the norm for him. She pulled her hands back to push down her pants instead, letting the soft, cottony material pool at her feet so she could step out of them. Finnick kicked his pants away and was quick to welcome her into his lap, shifting so he could guide her down until she was laying beneath him. Heart fluttering at the sudden tenderness behind his gestures, she gave him an encouraging nod and smile that quickly melted away into a gasp as he pushed into her.

For a moment, they simply stayed that way, two people intertwined, chests pressed together, hearts ricocheting against each other. For a moment, there was no Capitol, or patrons, or Snow. For a moment, there was only their little home, the sound of waves lapping the shore outside their window, their own heavy breathing. Then, Finnick pulled his hips back and gave a firm thrust forward. Her legs tightened around his waist as he found himself a punishing rhythm, moving deep and strong inside of her like the pull of the tide, stealing her breath and giving her life anew with every careful movement. When he worshipped her with every inch of himself like this, she was certain he meant it when he told her he loved her.

“Oh baby.” She moaned, hips meeting his in perfect timing that only made that coil tighter and tighter. Finnick had been mouthing along her collar bone, muffling his own pleasured grunts and groans into her skin, but he pulled back just enough to skim his mouth along her ear, biting and tugging at her ear lobe.

“Right here sweetheart, so good,” he breathed, “Feels so good.” Temple pressed against hers, he increased his pace a little, squirming a bit to push deeper with his thrusts and be closer to her. He held her tighter, fingernails leaving little crescent moons on her skin, but she didn’t care. The gentle pulsing in her core and the sharp pin pricks against her skin mixed well together and simply pulled her that much closer to the edge. Another pant, a whine of her name, the blood in her veins roaring like an inferno as her heart enveloped the rest of her, an overwhelming adoration for Finnick and all his little idiosyncrasies as he dropped a hand to her clit and began to circle it. He was close then, closer than she was, but he’d stave off his own release until she came. It made a pleasant change and only egged her on towards her release knowing that he felt safe and good.  Finnick had been through so much physical trauma he didn’t always get to finish, no matter how desperate he was for it.

The gentle pulsing suddenly became a crescendo, her every muscle seizing and her mouth hanging open, a choked whine the only sound that escaped her as she clenched around him hard. Finnick groaned loudly in her ear, his thrust becoming a bit more erratic as he tried to push her through her high, her fingers raking down his back again. He pulled out suddenly, desperately fisting his cock until he painted her torso white, and then he almost collapsed on his side. The only sound was their shared, heavy breathing and the creaking of the sofa as he leaned against the cushions with a puff, his arm slung across the back of the seat so he could rest his chin on his bicep and watched the sun disappear over the horizon. She simply closed her eyes, basking in the pleasant buzzing in her head while her core throbbed its way through a few after shocks.

She pretended not to hear the first little sniffle. Finnick was never one to show her how hard he took it all if he could help it, only ever wanting her to be happy and safe, but he couldn’t shield her from everything, and when she opened her eyes to view him she saw the red rimmed irises staring solemnly at the moon as if it might deliver him some sort of freedom or redemption. If there was anything she knew for sure, it was that Finnick Odair did not need redeeming.

“Snow threatened me, didn’t he?” she asked quietly. Finnick tensed, and then he sniffed, wiping his eyes on his bicep briefly and nodding once. “How bad is the situation?” her question remained unanswered for a while, and she felt her frustration begin to grow when she was forced to call his name and press him for an answer.

“He was going to kill you,” he snapped, his face full of so much horror and anguish when he faced her that it broke her heart, “He was going to kill you if I didn’t…if they couldn’t…” he sucked in a deep breath, his voice wavering as he finally confessed to all that had happened to him before he got home. “They used me, Y/N. Degraded me and beat me and cut me and I just…I had to take it.”

Immediately, her eyes raked over his form, ready to spot any sign of injury and help him soothe his wounds, however he was shiny new and the only marks on him were from her own nails. The Capitol had once more scratched their cruelty into his marrow and then erased all traces of it.

“Oh baby.” She whispered, angry and hurt and sorry all at once. She wished she could protect him better, keep him far away from Snow’s clutches, but there was no chance of it when his grip on Panem was still so vice like.

“They drank my fucking blood!” Finnick raved, standing now and starting to pace as he ran a hand through his hair.

“They what?” she sounded as shocked as she felt, her stomach curdling at the thought.

“They used a knife, they cut me and they drank from the wound, but they call us fucking animals,” he scoffed, eyes wild and brimming with self-loathing, “And I couldn’t do a thing to stop them.” Reaching for her trousers, she used it to quickly wipe away the remenants of Finnick’s release from her skin, and got to her feet to gently grasp his face between her hands.

“Stop. Don’t trap yourself there.” She ordered.

“But they-“

“Stop.” She repeated. His eyes grew wet, shame painted all over his face. His hands trembled when they reached up to grasp her wrists. She hushed him, her thumbs gently scrolling over his cheekbones.

“I feel so dirty. I just want to feel like me again.” He whispered brokenly. Swallowing back the lump in her throat, she nodded in understanding and slowly leaned up on her tiptoes to kiss him. He didn’t respond, but his eyes were closed when she pulled back and took his hands instead. He sucked in a sharp breath, looking at her with so much vulnerability that she almost let the tears pricking her eyes spill.

“Let me take care of you.” She said softly. Finnick looked at her for a moment, and then he nodded, letting her lead him to the bathroom. He stood numbly, not willing to look in the mirror at his reflection as she got the shower running. Step one would be to clean all remenants of the Capitol from his skin, whisper her praises and affirmations of love into the abused flesh to replace all the filth they’d tried to fill him with. Finnick remained silent as she washed them both down, her hands running gently over his skin and her lips pressing delicate kisses to the places her hands had been. He took the shampoo from her to help her with her hair, his fingernails scratching lightly at her scalp as he massaged in the suds.

“Is this new?” he asked. She hummed in agreement. “Smells real nice.” The compliment made her smile slightly. Only as he washed the soap away down the drain did she turn to pull him into another gentle kiss.

“It smells like you, like home,” she murmured, brushing her nose against his, “I love you, Finnick. I’m glad you’re home.” Finnick sighed slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. She felt the first wave of chill crawl over her skin as the water began to lose its warmth, so she reached for the dials and turned it off. Finnick was the one to hand her a towel, but she made sure to wrap it around herself securely in favour of drying him off with a smile – she could wait. With his towel wrapped round his waist, he patiently sat on the edge of the bed while she detangled his hair with his comb, carefully styling it to coif up just as he liked.

“Don’t stop.” He murmured. She had pulled the comb from his scalp but realised he must have found the sensation quite relaxing, as his shoulders had dropped and his eyes were closed, not a wrinkle on his forehead in sight. He smiled briefly as she began to comb his hair again with a hum.

“You know, I don’t think it’s possible to make you any more handsome.” She mused, kissing his shoulder.

He snorted slightly, “They always find a way.”

“No, they don’t. You are and always have been enough as you are.” She murmured, kissing at his spine next. Finnick shivered a little. With a hum, she let the comb fall onto the bed and moved to wrap her arms around him from behind instead. He hissed and drew back from her with wide eyes, making her frown in confusion.

“You’re still damp!” he protested. Rolling her eyes, she got to her feet and made a show of towelling off, changing into her usual pyjamas as he watched her with mild intrigue.

“Those pyjamas are new to.” he noted. He’d only been gone a week, yet that was two new changes for him to discover and adapt to. Perhaps two too many given the week he’d had. The pyjamas had been necessary, but she was feeling a tad guilty to have surprised him this much. He hated missing time with her and had confessed that when he came home and found she had moved furniture or bought new things, it made him feel left behind, like a foreign object in his own home.

“My others one were beyond saving. I would have been better off wearing my birthday suit.” She sighed. Finnick smiled faintly.

“I wouldn’t mind.” He assured her. With a grin, she shook her head and pointed to the door.

“I know you wouldn’t, now get out and let’s make some cocoa to take to bed with us, okay?” she suggested. He nodded his head, keeping his hand in hers as they exited the bedroom and went to find the necessary things. He stayed close, finding any excuse to touch her, and she leaned back into him every time with a contented hum, just to remind him she really was glad he was home.

“Marshmallows?” he asked, frowning in confusion as he closed the cupboard they were supposed to be in. She bit her lip, cheeks flushing pink.

“The little table by the armchair. I got snacky.” She admitted. He chuckled and went to retrieve them, looking happier as he dumped a handful into his mug. Only when he was curled up against her, the two of them content to simply sit in silence and appreciate the other’s presence, did he really seem to come back to her.  She stroked his hair, humming a song she had sang with her mother once years ago as they baked bread in their small kitchen. With his eyes closed and his head on her stomach, he looked peaceful, like he might be able to rest for once. She knew it wouldn’t last. The nightmares always came, and she would hold him as she always did and lie once more about how he was safe now. There was only one real certainty she had. One fact that would remain constant no matter what Snow threatened or what nightmares ravaged him.

She loved Finnick Odair whole heartedly, even if she had to say goodbye so he could belong to another just three weeks later, as was their tradition. This was their cycle, the never ending loop that had become their lives, but she would endure it, for him, and one day, they would be free of this game they played. Until then…until then, she would smile, wave, and miss the man she loved while he went to love another.

#the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x female!reader #president snow #tw blood #tw knife play #writersfantasy #the hunger games fanfiction #pre-rebellion hunger games #tw prostitution

[vumming]

alice in borderland — sunato banda “house”

contents : angst, violence, suicide, implicit descriptions — non official act of banda

“He's a murderer. He killed four women, doesn't that makes him a serial killer?”

Doesn't matter.

Banda exits the game with his head held high, though the intel that he had managed to acquire was quite piss poor, it will still do for survival.

This world, borderland, is not something to be taken lightly after all—many games had already plainly stated it, like a blinking red light flashing right in front of every player's face. It seems these games are more than they show.

There's a slow drag of smoke emitting from his lips, alone in a dimly lit apartment building where he temporarily lives. Japan has become something so separately to what he had once lived in.

Freedom.

Banda wondered if this is a temporary escape, is this what they all claim to be paradise? He huffs, the light grey puff of air hooked by the wind and out the window. Life are precious or are they not? His head lightly tilt to the side, cigarette hanging inbetween his fingers as he exhaled.

This reality he lives in, makes him feel free.

Games. Adrenaline pumping every veins. The call of death and life, a tug of war in every victory is something to relish. Right, this is merely something to chase the rushing feelings.

Conquer.

A goal that he keep repeating to himself.

Without it, he has no purpose.

Power is a major thing in any worlds, it is the pillar of how it works. Banda despise it at the same time desires it. With it, you decide who lives, your happiness and create your own world.

‘I wonder, if I can correct my wrong.’

The first one was the fruit.

“Sunato” There's a voice. “Welcome home!” Familiar, who are they?

“Are you tired? You can rest for now. You're safe here.” Banda, shut close the heavy lids.

There they stand, a smile on their lips as they greet him with such enthusiasm. There's an ache that pricks him like million of needles. He knows. It hurts, to look at his spouse, the golden band you wore is now on his.

He will always recognize that beautiful and charming grin. “Yeah, I'm home.” That blazing kiss you shared back then, the heat of the intimacy is certainly something to take note of—it left a burning trail in their wake; red.

“Were you waiting too long?”

“Heh, then shall we start dinner?”

The second was a mistake.

She lay—asleep, so it seems.

Hurt is all he could cry, over and over and over. So that's what he did, bury it and let it mellow down but the opposite emerged. One night stand, let all the worries be washed away.

When did it start? That bubbling feeling of pure rage within as he starts to see the purple that paints his spouse's skin?

“Tell me.” His grip tight on your wrist, you struggle to get out of his hold as you twist and turn. Banda is persistent however.

Brows knit together, you stubbornly held on, “I told you, Banda, I just knocked a few furnitures. It's nothing serious so let go.” There was hesitation to admit—were they ashamed of him? Because he has no power in a world where social structure is a thing?

He didn't mean to!

I didn't mean to!!

The ooze; drip, drop, drip, drop, repeat—they terrorize him. He didn't mean it, rage bought it and guilt turned it. A woman, face etched in a silent horror— Sunato Banda felt his conscience scream.

The third one was intentional.

Maybe it was a grudge. Laid on the cold concrete floor, painted in beautiful rose red, a woman he has known of for years. “It's all your fault..”

“It's all your damn fault that everything fell all apart.” Banda kneeled down, grabbing the woman's hair by the crown as she howl in pain, “We could've been living.. together.” His grip tighten. “If it wasn't for you.”

“Say hello to the devil for me.”

The fourth one was an illusion.

“Why do you not leave me alone?” He cries, gripping the neck of the person dearly to him. “For what shall I do to make you be in peace?”

“Haven't I done enough?”

“Welcome home.” like a mantra, the voices chants it over and over again. “Leave me!!” He begs.

Yet the voice listens to no one, labored breathing fell from red lips and choked calls for mercy, desperately.

He sobs, looking at the woman who resemble his beloved. Tears drip down from his eyes and falling to the woman's cheeks.

“Die.”

Home.

Banda has a million of buildings he now claim as his house but none of them are home. When he close his eyes, blood pumping hot and mind clear, for once can he only call something a home.

“Why is it that whenever I don't want to see you, you come?” a whisper, his eyes open and all he could focus on was the ever so sweet and gentle gaze directed towards him. So much love, adoration—for a monster like him.

“Have you come to end me for good..” He croak with his voice failing him, broken, hoarse and tight. “my love?”

There are minute reasons to give in to the temptation of borderlands but each and every human has a hand to return to. Dead or alive.

“Welcome home, Su.”

His eyes starts to get blurry.

“I'm home.”

#spouse. prostitute. trauma. hallucination #alice in borderland x you #alice in boderland x reader #gender neutral reader #sunato banda x reader #sunato banda x you #aib x you #aib x reader