Shoot First Ask Questions Later - Blog Posts

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BOTS LEAVE ME ALONE!!! I ONLY WANT ASKS ABOUT THE SHELBY BROTHERS FUCKING NASTY!! OR ANY OF THE HBOWAR BOYS FUCKING NASTY!! OR SAM AND BUCKY FUCKING NASTY!!! OR WINCEST!!! FUCK OUTTA HERE MATE

rereading and i just really really really like this part "..sure Tommy is hard as fucking stone but that can wait, yeah that can wait cause right now all he can think about is John pressed to his side, of how his little brother is finally calm in his sleep, yeah, he'll deal with that later, he'll deal with the mess of John's cum later too, can't be bothered to even wipe it away with the blanket cause that seems like the worst idea possible, to wipe away.." *cradles the image of calm + lazy + no boundaries = not wiping any of it away ever* so precious

i feel like arthur will be really ripped up when he finds out though. and not willing, very resistant, shamed. if threeway is your end game vision, what are your thoughts?

oh you're giving m thoughts- (want to preface this with that 99% of my writing is ooc and i really have no care to make it super-duper accurate to the characters, i like the characters as they are ofc but usually i'm just self-indulgant and write what i WANT to see them do, not what they actually WOULD do in canon)

Tommy would be the type to just bask in the post-nut sludge brain, breathing deep and slow, eyes nearly shut as he plays with the mix of cum on his stomach, drawing shapes in it, pushing it all into a puddle then spreading it out again, probably rubbed it into his skin with his palm once and jumped when John let out a strained "Fuck-" cause Tommy kinda forgot he was in the room too, like the slick feeling between his legs and the cum on his belly just magically appeared there, not a product of his little brother.

It becomes the standard after that- never wiping it off with a cloth, but just rubbing it in till it's just tacky on his skin and he reeks of John's spend. Sometimes John is the one to rub it into Tommy's skin, wherever he spills: belly, back, chest, thighs, ass, face... yeah he really likes smearing his cum across Tommy's pretty face, scooping most of it up with his fingers to let Tommy suck it off of them, watching his older brother's lips purse and cheeks hollow as he moans. Whatever's left -a mix of John's cum and Tommy's spit- gets rubbed in, slow and sweet and gentle, all the way down to his neck, and John can't help himself, just can't fucking stop himself from licking a wet stripe up Tommy's neck to his lips and kissing his older brother just to taste them all mixed up.

"Taste like a fucking dream, sweetheart." Tommy hates being called any sort of pet name but John knows he can get away with it while his older brother is all dazed and cum drunk.

Tommy doesn't wash up before getting dressed and going on about his day

-

ngl i have a million different trains of thought when it comes to these three (sometimes four,,,) so sometimes it's Arthur/Tommy that are the start of everything and John introduced later, sometimes all three of them falling into place like an inevitable wave and are all more than eager, sometimes it's Arthur/John with the looming threat of Tommy finding out. EVERYTHING IS ON THE TABLE HERE

in this particular story-

Once he figures it out, Arthur feels used (not a new feeling for him when it comes to Tommy) and a lot uncomfortable knowing Tommy is touching their baby brother. He had been... aware... that those two had looked at him with carnal desire for quite some time. But they'd only ever been thoughts, never actions, he could push the feeling of their eyes off him but could he push the feeling of Tommy's hands out of his mind when he knows Tommy is doing it for John to watch?

It's not like he could avoid Tommy, can't even keep out of his reach without making it a huge scene every time they're in each other's presence. What to do what to do. He doesn't do anything, doesn't even try cause he hopes it's just a little pulse of lust that will dissipate and eventually go away, Tommy will stop touching him and John will stop the fucking staring. He's tense and there's bile rising in his throat and there's that feeling of being watched by something aside from John.

It never stops, no, Tommy just gets more and more bold, placing his hands wherever he likes, moving them around with his eyes firmly fixed on John, trying to find the spot on Arthur's body that makes their baby brother's eyes go dark.

That place is usually somewhere around their big brother's hips or neck, especially likes it when Tommy brushes Arthur's hair out of his eyes before going down to wrap a loose hand around his throat, other hand trailing down his chest, tweaking the buttons of his shirt as he goes, threatening to open each and every one of them to bare Arthur to John, before reaching it's home on Arthur's sharp hip bone, squeezing and kneading the miniscule flesh of his ass.

"Why do you fight this so hard, brother? Don't you want to give Johnny what he wants? Let our baby brother see you." Tommy whispers the last part right next to Arthur's ear, drawing a shiver from him.

Every muscle in Arthur's body wants to spring himself free from Tommy's hold, every voice in his head wants to scream for... help? no, nobody would help him, they wouldn't even believe him, who would believe that his own flesh and blood wanted him in such a way?

The pleaser and the soldier and the provider in him all yearn to give John and Tommy anything they ask of him though. And if this is what they so desperately want, who is he to deny them.

---

OH GROSS ARTHUR HOW DARE YOU THINK ABOUT FUCKING YOUR KIN- do it

Anonymous asked: ❤ adore thank you thank you '….vibrating at the thought of Making Tommy Do Something. Like, he's making Tommy look at his dick, it's entirely out of Tommy's control…' that's exactly it

(accidentally hit post before i was ready oops-)

Ofc 😊

I think…. i think John also likes to physically over-power Tommy at times too, ya know, cause he's clearly bigger and stronger than his older brother… and maybe (calling back to normalbrothers' answer to one of my asks) Tommy intentionally is difficult and struggles just to get John to use more force, leave marks and maybe (hopefully) smacks him around a bit, cause Tommy is a masochist to some degree.

Though for the most part John is very happy to do whatever Tommy tells him to do while they fuck around with each other, forever in awe that Tommy wants him and eagerly allows John to touch him, so the little power-trip John gets when he makes his older brother look at his cock is all the sweeter

---

when i write from John's pov: Older brother = Tommy Big brother = Arthur

Arthur's pov: Little brother = Tommy Baby brother = John

Tommy's pov is dependent on who he's speaking to so: When talking to anyone (including john and Arthur), Arthur = big brother When talking to Arthur only, John = baby brother When talking to anyone (including John), John = little brother

Finn is a whole other can of worms that I haven't opened yet... and Ada is little sister to Tommy and John, baby sister to Arthur, and older sister to Finn

:)

ahhhhh thank you so much for the ficlet ~~~

for some reason it made me think of modern john sending tommy dick pics kind of helplessly, like a convulsive sort of unthought 'i have to send my brother a pic of my raging erection right now and i just don't know why' and feeling sick and anxious in the process, and feeling worse if he deletes the pic and doesn't send it -- but as soon as it sends he gets the most intense addictive rush like an orgasm and this blissed out calm, and then they have to get through their day side by side with this unspoken dick pic between them..

it was such a pleasure to write so Thank You for the ask!! I can see that- though ngl i've never been too into modern AU fics, BUT I CAN MAKE AN EXACPTION FOR THIS.

this is just off the wall enough that i can imagine John just?? vibrating at the thought of Making Tommy Do Something. Like, he's making Tommy look at his dick, it's entirely out of Tommy's control cause for some reason (a very paternal and protective instinctive reason but lets talk about that another time) Tommy can't ignore a text or call from any of his siblings, not intentionally at least. So, John knows for a fact that Tommy will see the dick pic at 8 o'clock in the morning when he sends it, will have too look at the way John is very clearly slicked up with some type of lube, probably something Tommy left behind in his room on the way out, and can't do much about it cause John is almost 100% certain Tommy is in some sort of meeting or on some excursion which is totally innocent and doesn't involve Arthur or Finn stomping someone's skull flat to the ground, yeah, nothing that doesn't already have Tommy's blood running hot.

He took the picture shortly after Tommy got out of his bed that morning around 6am, "late" Tommy likes to say, sort of as an excuse to not get John off, leave him antsy and needy for later. It took John all that time to think of what to type with it, honestly debating if he should just send the pic with nothing else, just, here's my dick look at it you nasty fucker- but no, he has to say something otherwise Tommy can somewhat easily block it out for the day, so

"Could have sat on this this morning instead of whatever crawled up your ass and died." Because who is John to Not point out Tommy's perpetually crabby attitude? It's what brothers are for-

Thing is, they've got quite the joined schedule for the day aside from Tommy's little outing that morning. The rest of the day they have to spend together, doing whatever the fuck the Peaky Blinders do in a modern AU idk man help me out here- ANYWAYS (oh this is so not going on Ao3) they're side by side most of the day, John kinda-sorta anxious but mostly still riding that high of sending the pic to Tommy, and Tommy is... Tense. Yeah, tense is a good word for that, clipped words, reluctant to look at John, maybe balling his hands into fists because if he doesn't he'll just grab John and tear his pants down and fuck himself on John's cock, he won't be able to stop himself.

(yes i see you said unspoken but i can't help myself im a whore for dialogueeeee)

"Did you like it?" oh brother he's an idiot isn't he? Did John really just fucking say that to him with Arthur and Michael right there? really? what a fucking idio-

"Yes, John, I enjoyed the picture of your cock. Very tasteful, did you hire a professional photographer to shoot it?" Tommy deadpans cause... yeah, Arthur knows about them, sometimes likes to watch, maybe pet them a little but he's not Fully Involved (yet) so he doesn't look up from his phone other than to shoot a glance towards their cousin… but Michael? poor little Michael is red in the face as he stares down at the papers in his hands, finding them verrrryyy interesting now.

"Bet you did. And nah, that was all me, call it natural talent." maybe just maybe his heart is hammering out of his chest now that Tommy is speaking about it but he kind of started this (he 100% started this) so now he has to deal with it (he's not dealing with it very well) and why not with a little humor?

"Should have gone to school for it, got a little camera and earned yourself a degree taking pictures of your own genitals. M'sure the professors would have given you extra marks for your hard work."

---

RIP Michael, you will be fucked- i mean missed... and fucked eventually-

I'm so inexperienced with modern AU is was distracted thinking about Arthur and a cellphone that i couldn't focus on the brother fucking

ANYWAY THANK YOU ANON

I’ve always thought Tommy would have jerked John off at some point, very pragmatically and efficiently, sending John into quite a spiral of fantasising every time Tommy put a hand on something after: Arthur’s shoulder, between Arthur’s shoulder blades, fingers over Arthur’s when handing a glass or bottle between them…

YES YOU GET IT-

I always want to put way too much backstory to these types of things even though I know I won't ever be able to put it into words correctly. BUT.

Touch Caused the Spiral (Ao3)

Perhaps it happens directly after the war, they get home and honestly have no idea how to cope, how to be okay again if all three of them can't see each other when it's dark out, so they all end up sleeping on the floor on a rug with a couple blankets and pillows. Maybe Arthur has a fit over something, needs to be alone, so it's just Tommy and John there, clinging to each other but not allowing themselves to really cling- it's just their hands touching wherever is "appropriate" and their legs are tangled together, John wiggling closer and closer through the night and eventually ends up gently rocking against Tommy's hip, mostly asleep. Tommy is wide awake, acutely aware of the way John shuffled closer, painfully aware of the heat pressed to his hip, John's hand on Tommy's chest, his brain is spinning all sorts of things because he knows John is aware of what's happening, he knows that John is intimately accustomed to Tommy's scent and the feel of his skin through a childhood of being crammed together due to their size and just never having enough space.

"Finally going to do something about that, eh?" Tommy murmurs into the darkness, tipping his head to the side to rest his temple to John's forehead, his hand slipping off of John's flank where it had been resting, having needed to feel John's movements. He plays with the waist of John's striped boxer shorts, undoing the little buttons one by one with ease, letting the back of his hand brush against the flushed, soft skin of John's cock. A shiver runs through the both of them when Tommy wraps a loose fist around John's cock, just feeling the weight of it for a minute before finally finally tightening his grip and properly touching him.

John can't help the little gasps and moans and "Tommy, Tommy, brother, fuck- please, Tommy." he needs Tommy right now, needs to feel him, to smell him, to taste him- John lets his lips brush against his older brother's cheek, not close enough to Tommy's lips to be a kiss, but just a desperate need to know how Tommy tastes now, licking his own lips to gather the little bit of sweat there. His hips rock forwardforwordforward, picking up speed, gaining a little power but it's still hazy with sleep and fear that if he moves too much than Tommy will snap to his senses and stop this. Except all of John's panted breaths against the side Tommy's face only cements that yes this will happen again, and again and again and again

"There you go. Attaboy, John, fuck me hand like you'd fuck a tight hole. Who're you thinkin' about, hm? S'it me? Want to fuck me? Or some whore from London? Bet I know who it is, it's fuckin' Arthur, isn't it? Want to fuck our big brother, don't you. He'd like it, he likes it. I've seen the way he acts with a couple of his own fingers up his arse."

It's all too much, all too fucking much for John, he can't fucking think and he can barely breathe, gasping against the side of Tommy's neck, a little slip of fear at being found out so easily... but it shouldn't have been a surprise that Tommy would know, be able to read him, they've both looked at Arthur that way for years, and they'd seen the want in each other's eyes, caught each other.

"So fucking wet, be surprised if anythin' comes out when you spill, seems like your leakin' it all out now, thinkin' of Arthur's tight-"

That's when the dam breaks, when John shudders and whines his way through the first orgasm he's had since returning home. And oh, how wrong is Tommy- it's a mess, slick splatter of cum familiar against Tommy's hip and belly and pelvis, hot stripes of it soaking through Tommy's own pants, staining them staining him. John can't seem to catch his breath, shoving his face into the crook of Tommy's neck to muffle the needy little whines slipping past his lips, involuntarily thrusting into Tommy's once more loose fist, riding the aftershocks like he'll never experience this level of pleasure again.

They sleep like that, both of them dazed and happy, sure Tommy is hard as fucking stone but that can wait, yeah that can wait cause right now all he can think about is John pressed to his side, of how his little brother is finally calm in his sleep, yeah, he'll deal with that later, he'll deal with the mess of John's cum later too, can't be bothered to even wipe it away with the blanket cause that seems like the worst idea possible, to wipe away what John has given him. Nono he lets John's spend dry on his skin, hopes it stains him through.

-

John can't get any of last nights events out of the forefront of his mind all day, eyes always darting to Tommy, fixating on his hands, perking up at ever word Tommy says, can't stop hearing "Attaboy, John" in his head. He knows Tommy can feel his eyes tracking him, he knows because every single time Tommy touches Arthur, he looks right at John, like he can see the spike of arousal that spears John right in the gut, trailing up his spine and coiling around his lungs, making it hard to breathe, and even harder to think. But he needs to think so that he doesn't do something stupid, can't fuck this up so early, the day after, not even 12 hours later.

It's intentional, it has to be intentional, Tommy is touching Arthur more today than he has in the last week, constantly has a hand on him somewhere. And it only gets more intimate, more invasive. Beginning at Arthur's shoulder at the start of the day, a good morning, then Tommy's fingers linger on the teacup he's passing to Arthur for a second too long so that Arthur is technically also touching Tommy in return- and doesn't that send a thrill of... Jealousy? Want? That sense of missed opportunity cause now John is aware that he hadn't touched Tommy much at all last night, certainly hadn't seen or heard Tommy finish. Anyway, John is violently pulled from that thought because now Tommy's hand is resting on the middle of Arthur's back, making slow circles as Arthur coughs up a lung, choking on something -John wasn't bloody paying attention- and then Tommy is fucking talking.

"You're not one to choke often, are ya?" It's said with mirth, yes, but there's a heat in Tommy's eyes that only John can see beings as Arthur is currently bent over the sink- and oh, there goes Tommy's fucking hand, down to the small of Arthur's back, splaying his fingers apart across his crisp white shirt, tips of his thumb and pinky nearly spanning the small width of Arthur's waist. Fuck. Fuck Arthur and his stupidly narrow frame, always looking breakable if not for John's personal knowledge of just how fucking strong Arthur is, how all that wiry muscle behaves exactly how Arthur wants it to, cording under his skin when he strains any.

The ways John wants to make Arthur strain...

"The fuck-" There's a wet cough, "The fuck's that supposed to mean?" Arthur snaps, eyes a little red, brows pinched together, color high on his cheeks.

-

It's almost like Tommy is mapping out a trail for John's eyes to follow, slipping 'round till it reaches the desired destination. At one point, Tommy's hand lands a playful swat to the seat of Arthur's trousers, not really connecting but it's like a fucking car crash for John, like a bomb going off in a busy bar, he just can't fucking look away. There's a whistle sounding in the room, right? It's not just John's ears ringing... Right? There's no fucking way that's made his head buzz and his eyes go a little blurry around the edges. No fucking way.

Except it did, and his face is hot, and he feels like he's about to sweat through his shirt and waist coat and jacket all in a few seconds, all from watching his big brothers horse around like a couple of teenagers in the betting shop. His cock twitches in his trousers, interested and quick to stand at attention. He's glad he's sitting down, crotch safely hidden behind Tommy's desk where it's oh so easy to place his hand on top of the rapidly forming tent, willing it to go away because how is he supposed to stand up and leave looking like he's shoved a flag pole down his pants?

Luckily for him, Tommy's phone rings, forcing Tommy to put his hands up in mock-surrender, slowly backing his way around his own desk to where John is still sitting in the large chair, eyes locked on Arthur's own. And John can't exactly move now can he? So he doesn't, stays where he is while Tommy braces a hand on the edge of the desk, bent at the hip, other hand reaching for the phone which is on it's fourth ring, and just watches with mild panic as Tommy takes a seat -his seat- directly in John's lap, somewhat-sorta crushing his cock but again what the fuck is John supposed to do here without making everything painfully obvious? Eh? What the fuck is he supposed to do?

"Thomas Shelby," Tommy answers, the picture of composure perched atop his newly conquered throne. "Yes, tomorrow, six AM."

With a little ring of the bells as Tommy places the phone back on the receiver, he says with none-too-well concealed excitement and a sneaky shift of his hips, "looks like we've got an early start tomorrow, brothers, best get to bed."

------

1,641 words of Fucked Up served hot and fresh from the Fucked Up Factory

(the boxer shorts John was wearing cause he's a playful guy)

Hi there,

I’m reaching out with a quiet hope in my heart. These days are heavy, and my family is living through a reality filled with uncertainty—but I’m still here, doing my best to hold on and keep going.

If you have a moment, please check out my pinned post.

A simple share could help it reach someone who might be able to make a difference.

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Your time, your voice, your compassion — it all matters more than you know.

With deep gratitude,

@nadinfamily

THESE STUPID FUCKING BOTS ALREADY FOUND ME WTF